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Story / Fat Furs
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Arge's access to the storage units at the side of town make him an unfortunate target for delinquents in need of late-night favors...
Can two fat dragons sneak in and out? Or will they get caught... in more ways than one?
(Possibly left open for a part 2..?) Nevermind, I have decided to write the entire story Under Ice anyway, although it is still a work in progress at the moment
He was trying to enjoy his drink. Just one fucking drink without interruption. Was that really too much to ask?
With a frustrated growl, Arge pushed his hefty body out of the chair, moving ponderously towards the knocking on the door. The knocking stopped at the sound of the floor creaking beneath his weight. The dark gray dragon’s heaving gut bounced with the motion, the overhang pressing down on his thighs with every step, the pounds of extra lard on his body making him slow moving as he crossed the room.
Arge opened the door to see a significantly smaller dragon staring up at him, albeit the other dragon was a bit on the chubbier side himself. His scales were a significantly lighter shade of gray, the scales of his belly lightening to an almost creamy color to match his wings. His horns and claws were black as night. “Were you busy?”
Arge rolled his eyes. “At the middle of the night? No, Zag, I was just waiting for someone to come give me something to do.”
Zag blinked. “Really?”
“No.” Arge remembered the other dragon didn’t handle sarcasm well. “Why did you come to bother me?”
Arge practically towered over the other dragon, and Zag fidgeted his claws as he stared up at him. “I need your help with something.”
“That sounds tough. Goodnight.” Arge tried to shut the door, but the persistent visitor put out a paw to block him.
“Please, it’s really important.” Zag looked up at him pleadingly.
After a long moment, Arge let out the longest sigh he could muster and opened the door to allow the smaller dragon in. Zag readily entered, and Arge pulled the door shut behind him before following him through the small shop that sat beneath his own living space upstairs. He kicked some empty bottles out of his way as he walked through the room, wishing that he was adding to the pile of those right now instead of doing whatever the fuck this was.
“I don’t really see why you’d need my help with anything,” Arge grumbled as he offered Zag a seat at a nearby table covered in metal scraps and garbage. “Can’t you use your special ‘Darkal magic’ or whatever to do anything you want?” Arge himself was the Faerian species of dragon, and most Faerian dragons were not magically gifted. But Arge knew enough about magic to know that Darkals were quite good at it. “I can’t possibly imagine what I can do for you that you wouldn’t be able to do yourself.”
The chubby Darkal wriggled a little as he adjusted himself in the seat, the rolls on his sides jiggling with the motion and his potbelly sitting on his lap. He stared at the Faerian as he settled. His eyes were a soft shade of blue, but they looked brighter when they contrasted his pale gray scales. “I know you build and fix stuff. Do you have access to the storage units on the other side of town? Where you rent out tools?”
Arge stared back. “I don’t know, could you get more vague?” He shook his head at Zag’s confused look. “There’s like a dozen over there. Which one do you mean?”
“Any of them.”
Arge lifted a brow.
The Darkal shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that one has something special inside. There are just tools I need. Or, well, a particular type of tool. A type that is specifically kept locked up at night.”
Unlike Zag’s anxious squirming, Arge felt quite relaxed in his own seat, his scaly mass filling the confines of the chair. The sides of his thighs pushed over the edges, and his blubbery gut spread out before him, burying his body in soft layers of pudge. Despite the night’s interruption, he grabbed the drink he’d left behind a moment ago to resume its consumption. Mayyyybe it was true he’d already had a few drinks before the interruption, but that wouldn’t stop him from complaining and being mad about it. “Why don’t you just blow it up with magic or something and go in yourself?”
“Everyone would know someone went in. And maybe notice something’s been stolen.” He eyed Arge’s bulk from his seat, studying the dragon sitting across from him. Arge knew his scales were an unusually dark shade of gray, and his belly and wings were an even darker shade, but it wasn’t as if Zag hadn’t seen other dragons from his island before. He didn’t need to stare.
Arge didn’t like being inspected. He stared back and scowled.
Zag looked away. “If you have access, can you just let me inside? Then I’ll leave you alone.”
The larger dragon drummed his claws on the table and took a sip of his drink. “Is there something else I can do to convince you to leave me alone? Something faster?” It had already occurred to him that he could just tell the other dragon that he didn’t have access, but he remembered the other species could hear lies. He still found it unbelievable that someone with shit tons of magic would need something from him desperately enough to bother him in the middle of the night.
The other dragon flattened his ears. “What if I just—after tonight, NEVER bother you again,” he vowed.
Arge scoffed. “Uhhh that’s a bit weak.” He thought for a second. Then he came up with the perfect trade. “What if you do me a huge favor?”
Zag stared at him blankly. “Okay? What sort of favor?”
Arge chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about how to word his negotiation correctly. “It has to be any favor I want. Anything at all.”
Zag seemed uncertain. “I don’t like the way that sounds.”
“How bad do you want to get into the storage units?”
Arge watched as the pudgy Darkal visibly thought it over. Then he took a deep breath. “Alright. What’s the favor?”
Arge leaned forward slightly. “Can you ask my nephew to talk to me?”
“Huh?”
Arge’s ears flattened a bit. “I mean a real conversation. Without yelling or name-calling.”
Zag crossed his arms. “When I agreed to a favor, I meant one that was actually possible.”
“You agreed ‘any’ favor,” Arge insisted.
Zag stared for a long moment. Then he sighed. “I’ll try the best I can. Okay?”
Slowly, Arge nodded. Since he’d given Zag a near-impossible task to complete, the trade would be good enough. Serves him right. “Can I at least ask what the tool is?”
“No.”
Arge shot him a look.
Zag’s cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of gray as he blushed. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
“How the hell am I supposed to help you find it?”
“You don’t have to help me find it. You just have to let me inside the storage unit area.”
The larger dragon gave him a dubious glance, scratching the top of his bulging gut absently as his brain churned it over. “Alright. Whatever. I’ll let you inside, and then I’m leaving before I get fired. And then you owe me that favor. Yeah?”
Zag readily nodded. “Okay.”
This wasn’t at all how Arge had expected his night to go, but he reluctantly heaved himself from his seat, his belly rolling forward off his lap as he stood. Well, it was technically still on his lap, just vertically now. “I guess we’ll get going. No reason to stand around.”
Zag nodded again as he followed Arge out the door. The massive Faerian remembered to leave the other half of his drink on the table and gave it one sad, final parting glance.
Outside, the night was humid, the towering trees that surrounded the town giving the air a damp feeling. He didn’t like it.
If Zag minded their surroundings, he didn’t give any indication, padding along silently next to Arge’s much heavier pawsteps. The larger dragon still couldn’t believe he was dragging him through town in the middle of the night to open a fucking door. At least it sounded relatively easy.
The streets were empty, and they made quick progress through the town, despite leaving Arge panting somewhat. He was really out of shape. Really, really out of shape. The bulging swaddle of fat that hung from his body was evidence of that. Everything jiggled with each step, his lardy legs squeezing by each other, his fat arms resting on the large curves of his love handles. Everything was soft and well-padded. His pudgy tail lashed unhappily as they moved towards their destination.
Slightly ahead of him and slightly less winded, Zag’s own potbelly bounced a little with each step, his own chubby thighs brushing. He eventually came to a stop and pointed ahead, opening his mouth to speak, but Arge hadn’t predicted his sudden halt and bowled into him from behind. Zag, the much smaller of the two dragons, was thrown forward onto the ground with the force of Arge’s gut smashing into him.
Arge looked away and sighed with exasperation. He would never admit that he was actually looking away because he was blushing a bit. As heavy as he was, he sometimes he couldn’t quite control his own momentum. “Sorry about that,” he said gruffly.
The Darkal rolled over and glanced up at him, wrinkling his snout. “I was about to say that we’re here.” He stood and brushed himself off. “These are the units I was talking about.”
Arge glanced around. “These aren’t storage units. They’re storage buildings.”
“Yeah.”
Arge shot him a look. “What do you mean, just, ‘yeah’? There’s a huge fucking difference.” He glanced back at the buildings uncertainly. Full buildings, not boxes sitting out in the night. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for.
“Well the units I need are inside the buildings.” Zag stared up at him like everything he said was easy, simple, and reasonable.
Arge groaned. Or maybe it sounded more like a growl. Maybe it was both. “I specifically said I don’t want to lose my job tonight.”
Zag flattened his ears. “Doesn’t your ID just unlock the doors? They’ll never know anything’s wrong.”
“You really think they don’t have security?”
“Why would they call security if your ID just unlocks the doors?” he pointed out. “They won’t think someone’s breaking in or anything if you already have permission to enter. We’ll just be in and out.”
The fatter dragon stared. “‘We’? What do you mean ‘we’?”
The Darkal looked away again, fidgeting a bit. “The storage units inside will need the card too.”
Arge let out a frustrated growl. “I’m done here. I quit.”
“Wait—”
Arge turned and sauntered away, his belly swaying slightly, holding up both paws to flip Zag off from behind now that his entire night had been wasted. The only thing that should have been wasted right now was himself.
He came to a sudden halt as he felt an encompassing grip on his legs, stopping him abruptly in his tracks. He strained to take another step, but he’d dealt with enough magic in his days to recognize that Zag was really, really strong. His gut shook and wobbled with the effort.
It was also really rude. “Ugh, get off!”
He craned his head around, his second chin squishing on his neck as he glanced back at the other dragon. Zag was staring back, his fists at his sides, the soft blue aura of his magic just slightly lighting up the space between them. “Please don’t go. We made a deal.”
Arge thought seriously for a moment. Let out a long sigh. It was true. And he also knew he couldn’t pass up the monumental favor Zag had promised. “Fine. Get your magic off of me. We’ll go in, and I’ll unlock one of the storage units. But THEN I’m leaving,” he warned.
Zag let go and Arge stomped back over, physically and emotionally exhausted.
His ID card was rejected when he swiped it at the door.
They stared at the door for a moment. The blubbery Faerian sighed. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m… going home… uh… now…” He trailed off distractedly as he watched the Darkal begin to poke around outside the building. He shifted a bit on his feet. “Are you coming or staying?” He wasn’t really sure why he bothered asking. He was indifferent to the idea of walking back together. He really ought to just leave his annoying visitor right here.
Zag had carefully made his way down the side of the building, pausing at a corner. He glanced back at Arge. “There’s a grate here I think we can get through.”
Arge stared back. “What is it about this situation that keeps making you say ‘we’?”
The other dragon flattened his ears. “Well once I get inside, I’ll still need your ID to open the door to one of the storage units. Remember?”
Arge crossed his arms over his expansive, pudgy chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, my ID isn’t working. It probably only works up until a certain time of night. It is the middle of the night, you know.”
“If the outside of the building is secured at night, won’t the units inside have regular scanners that aren’t locked at a certain time of night?” Zag countered.
Up until now, Arge had been repeatedly trying to get himself out of this situation as soon as possible, but he gave Zag’s question some actual thought. What he said made sense. The obvious problem being, of course, that they couldn’t get to the storage units in the first place, as intended by whoever designed this whole damn system. “I guess.”
Zag beckoned him over to the grate he found. “Let’s go in and at least try.”
Arge stifled another groan as he made his way over. At this point, he probably wouldn’t even go home and drink afterwards. He’d just go to bed.
The grate Zag was pointing at was roughly ground-level and looked a bit smaller than Arge would have liked to see. “I think this one isn’t going to work. Not for me, at least.” The Darkal was significantly shorter and narrower by comparison; even though he was a little fat, he’d probably squeeze through. Fitting Arge’s much more impressive girth through the tiny square, however, was a fantasy.
Zag seemed to think otherwise. “We can at least try.”
Arge just couldn’t win tonight. With a massive sigh, he got down on his knees in front of the grate, pulling at it to get it off. He realized very quickly that he wouldn’t be able to remove it; it was made of Eemian steel, arguably the strongest substance ever created, and also impervious to magic. Well, every type of magic except Darkal magic, although he wasn’t really sure how that worked. “You know, Zag, maybe all of these roadblocks is the universe trying to tell us that this just isn’t going to happen tonight.”
Zag frowned. “The only roadblock has been the door.”
Ah, of course. Zag wouldn’t see his own interruption as a huge roadblock to enjoying a lovely, peaceful night.
“If you move over, I can get the grate off of the door.”
With a tired sigh, Arge moved over to let the Darkal work. He’d probably done more sighing tonight alone than he had in the past thousand years.
Zag focused on the grate. The metal twisted and ripped off after only a moment, with absolutely no visible effort on the Darkal’s part. “Alright. You first.”
“What?? Me? Why,” Arge growled.
Even in the dark, he could tell Zag’s cheeks had an awkward blush. “Because if I go through first, you’ll turn around and leave.”
Oddly enough, the idea hadn’t occurred to Arge. “You’re a Darkal. You’d just outrun me,” he pointed out. Wait. Why did he feel the need to convince Zag he’d actually help? Arge figured out that at some point during the conversation, he’d finally committed himself to doing this. He sighed—again—and finally shuffled towards the grate. “Alright, whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
Arge stretched his arms forward, his shoulders following. Even in spite of being fat, he also had a naturally stocky build—the extra padding didn’t help, of course, but his broad shoulders couldn’t help but brush past the edges, fortunately his smooth scales helping them slip through. The doughy pudge that hung off his upper torso grazed the sides a bit more firmly, the flab catching the edges of the square opening.
With his front half inside the shell of the building, he could finally see the storage units they were after; the area looked a bit like a hallway, the doors to the units lining it up and down. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any security in the area, and the fact that the lights had been left dim helped cool Arge’s anxiety a little. No one was here.
“Um. Can you keep going?” Zag’s voice was muffled by the wall of Arge’s fat body blocking the opening.
With a scowl Zag couldn’t see, Arge continued to pull himself forward, slowing down somewhat as he reached the largest part of his gut. As expected, the square hole was tightening its grip on his sides with every inch forward. He shook his head to himself and started to back out. This was a bad idea. This was dumb. He’d already known he wouldn’t fit.
“Hey—Keep going! You’re almost through.”
“Almost through with this night, you mean.”
Zag was quiet for a moment. Arge bumped into him as he continued to try backing out. The Darkal was sitting directly behind him. “Move out of the way,” he growled. He actually wasn’t sure that Zag would, and was surprised to feel the other dragon give him some room.
Of course, Zag needn’t have bothered. As Arge backed out, he felt the edges of the hole catching the rolls of his chest that he’d squeezed through before. The pudge didn’t fold down the same way as it had from the other direction, squishing up around the metal. He turned diagonally a bit, hoping to give his broad shoulders some more space, but secretly knew that his shoulders weren’t the real reason he was having trouble maneuvering. His fat midsection came to a quivering halt long before he got that far. “Shit.”
“What happened?”
“The hole is too small,” Arge grunted, wriggling a little. “Pull me out.”
“I can probably push you in.”
Arge sighed. “I’m, uh. Too big.” He didn’t want to say it.
“You’re too fat?”
He stifled a growl that Zag had said it. “Sure. Yeah. Now pull me out.”
“I think it would make more sense to push you in.”
Arge wriggled unhappily, the edges of the grate pressing tightly into his sides. “How so? I’m, uh, wider back there, I think.” He paused. Realization dawned. “You just want to push me inwards because you still want me to open one of those doors.”
Zag’s silence confirmed his accusation. He let out a growl. “Zag. Get me out of here.”
“You can fit if you suck in a little.”
“Zag. I. Want. To. Go. Home.”
Another pause. “Fiiiine. Can we come back another time?”
“You mean day time? When your plan may have actually worked?” Arge immediately slapped his forehead. Why was he encouraging him?
Zag sounded a bit happier when he said, “Okay, yeah. You’re right, we can come back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?? That’s not what I—” Arge paused when he finally felt small paws wrap around his ankles and tug. Finally, at least something was getting done. He tried to suck in even harder than before as he felt the smaller dragon pull. The fat that he’d already squeezed through the square bunched and spread over the edges, refusing to release its hold. Every tug made the soft, rolling adipose jiggle and shake, getting nowhere.
“Ugh.” Arge let out his breath. He was stuck pretty tight. Pulling him back out wasn’t going to work. His only other option was pushing forward. Just as Zag had said.
Zag was quiet a long moment.
Arge knew what he was thinking. “Okay, you can say I-told-you-so and get it over with.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. Just that I was right.”
“That’s the same exact sentence but with different words.”
They both waited to catch their breath for a minute. Arge couldn’t see what Zag was doing, but it occurred to him that Zag could do anything he wanted behind him. If he chose to leave, Arge wouldn’t be able to stop him. He squirmed anxiously. He wasn’t sure that he could get out of here himself. “You HAVE to get me out, okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m about to do that. What other options do we have?”
Arge had to admit there was something reassuring about the fact that leaving him here hadn’t even occurred to the other dragon.
He got ready to suck in again. When he felt chubby paws on his behind, he took that as his cue. He put his paws on either side of him and strained inwards this time, the flab on his arms hanging as he wriggled and pushed. He suddenly felt Zag’s paws move from his rump to his sides and almost let out his breath in surprise, but kept going as he felt the other dragon begin to press directly on the sides of his belly to knead it through.
The smaller dragon’s paws sank deeply into the lard, the girth of Arge’s belly enveloping each forceful shove. Arge grimaced as he switched to grabbing the rolls of his own belly that had fit through the hole so far and pulling at it, the soft layers of blubber filling his grip. He was a bit disgusted at himself, feeling the way that his fingers sank into the huge swaddle of pudgy padding on his body, a result of years of overeating and pure laziness. This was really just his own fault. And now it was everyone’s problem.
Arge was snapped back to the present by the feeling of his belly finally shifting in the hole as the kneading spread it through. He kicked and wriggled a bit with renewed strength, Zag continuing to push him, and he budged forward again. Holy shit, it was working. He was still straining to suck in, but tried to hold his breath a few moments more…
The edges of the grate caught on his hips, but the last of his belly finally squeezed through, prompting Arge to lie on the floor gasping to catch his breath. So far tonight, he’d gotten way more exercise than he was used to, even if a solid half of it including flopping around on the floor like a fat fish.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Arge wheezed. He reached down and massaged his gut for a moment, his thick knuckles disappearing into the swell of fat. He tried to stretch a little, but his hips were still wedged in the hole, which he wasn’t able to suck in, of course.
“Ready to keep going?”
Arge groaned. “I guess so?” Did he really have a choice?
He felt Zag put his paws around his hips and begin trying to wriggle the quivering blubber through the opening, then moving to applying pressure directly on the larger dragon’s rump. Arge blushed a little, and was glad Zag couldn’t see him. Then he remembered that Darkals were telepathic and Zag could sense his emotions instead, and he blushed harder. He would have considered dying of embarrassment on the spot, if it wouldn’t have been such an inconvenient time to pass away.
“You’re almost… there…” Zag grunted, and Arge thrashed and clawed his way forward a bit more frantically, ready for this to be over with. Lashing his tail outside seemed to help work some of the pudge inwards as Zag pushed on it, until finally, ever so slowly, Arge began to move again. At the fattest part of his behind, for a moment, they almost thought they’d lost the fight. By some miracle, however, with a bit more squeezing, Arge finally felt his ass wrench through the grate, followed quickly by his quivering thighs and fat tail.
He rolled over and sprawled on his back for a moment, his gut resting on top of him, breathing heavily.
“Um. Can you move over a bit?”
Arge dragged his legs out of the way as the smaller dragon wormed his way through. Zag stretched out his arms and pushed against the walls on either side of the square hole, then army-crawled the rest of the way through until the fattest part of his waistline. Fortunately, he only needed a bit of kicking and scrabbling to wriggle his own chubby body free of the grate’s unforgiving sides. Arge groaned. “After tonight, we are never talking about this again.”
Zag didn’t answer. Arge craned his neck to see that the other dragon was already on his feet and inspecting one of the storage containers, feeling the outside of the door and frowning at the handle. With a deep, exhausted breath, Arge slowly pushed himself to his feet and heavily plodded over. “Alright. In and out. And then I’m leaving.
“Uh.” Zag fidgeted anxiously while refusing to look at him. “It looks like the door doesn’t take ID cards to open.”
“What?” Arge tried to move him out of the way to see for himself. “The entire point of the ID cards is so that only people authorized to use tools from here can get in. They’re not supposed to have a normal key.”
“These storage units do.”
Arge growled wordlessly in his throat. His instinct was to start throwing things and cursing, but he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Well if it just takes a normal key, you can use magic to open it, right?”
Zag turned back to the door and stared at it a long moment.
“Right?”
“Huh?”
“Zag.” Arge crossed his arms. “You’re the most powerful Darkal in the universe. Can you use magic to open a lock?”
Zag frowned. “Former most powerful Darkal in the universe,” he pointed out helpfully. “See, right now, there’s someone else who is actually—”
Arge slapped his forehead. “CAN YOU OPEN THE DOOR OR NOT.”
“What? Oh, of course I can, I was just getting to that. Before you interrupted.” Zag turned back to the door and stared at it another long moment. There was finally a small clicking noise.
Arge let out a pent-up breath. “Finally.”
The smaller chubby dragon pressed on the door. “I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”
Arge wondered why he couldn’t just stroll out of here right now and leave him to it, but didn’t have time to ask before Zag disappeared into the dark interior.
The fat Faerian tiredly sat himself down against the wall, his gut spreading over his thighs. He knew that Darkals could see in the dark, but he had no idea how well, so he didn’t know how long Zag would be—
The Darkal appeared back in the doorway. “Found it.” He frowned at Arge on the floor. “Why are you sitting?”
Arge scrambled to his feet. Or, as fast as he could beneath his own formidable bulk, making him huff and puff on the way up. “That was really fast.”
Zag was holding what looked vaguely like a small box in his paws, several protrusions on one end. Arge eyed it curiously. He didn’t recognize it, and didn’t know what it did. “That’s it? We came here for that?”
“Yeah.”
Arge stared a moment longer until Zag took a hint and elaborated, “This is the only place that stores them. It’s also the only thing we can use for… uh, what we’re planning to use it for.”
It was clear Arge wasn’t getting a further explanation than that, so he finally switched to letting his eyes scan the dim corridor for an exit. He changed the subject. “We’d best get out of here before we’re discovered.”
Zag pulled the door shut behind him as they started down the corridor, the lock resetting and the ‘tool’ clasped tightly in his paws. “Hey, um, thanks for helping me.”
Arge considered not replying, but finally grunted out, “Sure. I guess. This is never happening again though, got it?”
The shorter dragon nodded. After another moment, he glanced up sharply and pricked his ears. “Shit.”
Arge glanced down at the tool. Nothing seemed to be happening. “What?”
Zag followed his gaze and shook his head. “Oh, it’s not this thing. I can just hear someone coming.”
Arge’s Faerian senses couldn’t hear anything yet, but he trusted Zag’s stronger ones. He stifled a groan. “I guess I’ll add ‘getting fired and almost certainly arrested’ to my list of activities tonight after all.”
“Can’t you just, tell them that you came in here for a tool and got locked in or something?”
Arge pondered that a moment. “I mean, maybe, but they’d have a lot of questions about why you’re here.”
Zag flattened his ears. He glanced around quickly. His face brightened again as his gaze fell over the far wall. “What if I climb out that window?”
Arge glanced at the window. It was even smaller than the grate. Before he could start angrily yelling, Zag quickly continued, “I sort of just mean me, of course. I don’t, uh, think you’d fit.” He looked away awkwardly. “But I mean, if I leave, you could still say you’re here for tools.”
Arge wasn’t very confident in his plan. He saw the size of that window. “How much more space is there between this section of the building and the front door?”
“Um.” Zag seemed to focus for a moment, thinking. Or maybe listening for more security dragons in their vicinity. “We’d have to walk past the guy I hear in order to get to it.”
“Great. Perfect.” Arge put his paw behind his head and rubbed the base of his horns, thinking. He’d been hoping that since the doors were only locked from outside, they could make their way back to the front of the building and stroll straight out the front door. Getting caught with Zag in tow definitely wouldn’t allow him to do that. Unless Zag really did manage to escape…
He glanced back to the window. It wasn’t just too small for Arge; it looked like it could be a bit of a tight squeeze for even Zag. “You think the window is your best choice?”
“The alternative is that we stick together and try to come up with an explanation.”
The Darkal was right about that. There was no explanation.
Arge reluctantly plodded to the window, digging his claws under the bottom and lifting. It went up easily enough, but didn’t open as high as he was wanted. He grimaced. “Are you sure? Are you really sure?” Honestly, if Zag backed out of this plan, Arge wouldn’t even blame him. It would be a tight fit. Arge’s own pudgy middle was still hurting for the same reason.
The short, chubby dragon appeared to sharpen his resolve. “It’s important to not get caught just as much as it’s important to have this tool.”
Arge so, so desperately wanted to know what this thing was that they were risking everything for, but knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with more questions. He tried convincing himself to take Zag’s word for it. “Alright.” He stood aside as the smaller dragon approached.
Quite a bit shorter, Zag had to jump a bit to even get his head and shoulders through, his feet hanging off the ground. Arge quickly found himself helping the other dragon, Zag’s chubby thighs bending over the larger dragon’s heaving paws as he tried to lift the plump Darkal through the open window.
Easier said than done. Zag’s bulk almost immediately began to fill the space, as expected. Arge continued to support the other dragon’s weight as Zag placed his paws on the wall outside and heaved to squirm through. His path was blocked by his round, pudgy potbelly pressed up firmly against the window sill.
Arge began to push more earnestly. “You don’t… have… some sort of… magic… to help?” he panted.
“I could crumple and warp the wall until I fit through. It wouldn’t be very discreet, though,” Zag strained through gritted teeth. “All of this would sort of be for nothing.”
Arge groaned, but continued pushing. “Well then at least suck in a little more, yeah?”
He heard the smaller fat dragon suck in his breath. Arge tried to take advantage and push harder, the slightly smaller fatass kicking his hind legs as he squirmed. It was very inconvenient and not helping at all, but Arge just let him. He just wanted this to be over with.
Zag was panting. Arge suddenly had an idea as he recalled how he’d gotten through before, and he started trying to knead Zag’s belly through the opening the same way. He felt him jolt as he was startled, but then went back to pushing, and Arge went back to heaving as he pushed directly on the fat trying to squeeze it through. The large roll over his hips was bulging on either side, and his fingers sank in deeply there as he tried to get the overhang of fat through the narrow window.
He was elated when he felt the dragon budge a bit. “Keep pushing on the outside,” he wheezed, eager to get Zag’s ass out of his face and get out of here before security found them. He felt the other dragon twist a bit as he pushed himself forward, wriggling his fat little tail, until he budged forward another inch. And then another. And then—
He tumbled to the ground when he finally slipped through, since he was slightly too high to catch himself. Arge poked his head out the window to look down at him. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” He saw Zag grit his teeth a bit. The pudgy Darkal looked down at the ‘tool’, then turned his gaze back up to Arge. “Um… thanks a lot. For helping me tonight.”
Arge stifled his millionth sigh. “Sure. Now, get out of here before you’re seen. I’ll just tell the security guard I was lost in here and walk out the front door.” It really was their best plan now. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could work with that. “Don’t wait around or anything to get caught.”
The chubby dragon nodded. He rose and turned away. “Sure. Good luck.”
Arge turned back to the dim hallway, eager to leave the building. He hoped he didn’t need any extra luck.
He was just grateful to leave through a real fucking door.
Can two fat dragons sneak in and out? Or will they get caught... in more ways than one?
He was trying to enjoy his drink. Just one fucking drink without interruption. Was that really too much to ask?
With a frustrated growl, Arge pushed his hefty body out of the chair, moving ponderously towards the knocking on the door. The knocking stopped at the sound of the floor creaking beneath his weight. The dark gray dragon’s heaving gut bounced with the motion, the overhang pressing down on his thighs with every step, the pounds of extra lard on his body making him slow moving as he crossed the room.
Arge opened the door to see a significantly smaller dragon staring up at him, albeit the other dragon was a bit on the chubbier side himself. His scales were a significantly lighter shade of gray, the scales of his belly lightening to an almost creamy color to match his wings. His horns and claws were black as night. “Were you busy?”
Arge rolled his eyes. “At the middle of the night? No, Zag, I was just waiting for someone to come give me something to do.”
Zag blinked. “Really?”
“No.” Arge remembered the other dragon didn’t handle sarcasm well. “Why did you come to bother me?”
Arge practically towered over the other dragon, and Zag fidgeted his claws as he stared up at him. “I need your help with something.”
“That sounds tough. Goodnight.” Arge tried to shut the door, but the persistent visitor put out a paw to block him.
“Please, it’s really important.” Zag looked up at him pleadingly.
After a long moment, Arge let out the longest sigh he could muster and opened the door to allow the smaller dragon in. Zag readily entered, and Arge pulled the door shut behind him before following him through the small shop that sat beneath his own living space upstairs. He kicked some empty bottles out of his way as he walked through the room, wishing that he was adding to the pile of those right now instead of doing whatever the fuck this was.
“I don’t really see why you’d need my help with anything,” Arge grumbled as he offered Zag a seat at a nearby table covered in metal scraps and garbage. “Can’t you use your special ‘Darkal magic’ or whatever to do anything you want?” Arge himself was the Faerian species of dragon, and most Faerian dragons were not magically gifted. But Arge knew enough about magic to know that Darkals were quite good at it. “I can’t possibly imagine what I can do for you that you wouldn’t be able to do yourself.”
The chubby Darkal wriggled a little as he adjusted himself in the seat, the rolls on his sides jiggling with the motion and his potbelly sitting on his lap. He stared at the Faerian as he settled. His eyes were a soft shade of blue, but they looked brighter when they contrasted his pale gray scales. “I know you build and fix stuff. Do you have access to the storage units on the other side of town? Where you rent out tools?”
Arge stared back. “I don’t know, could you get more vague?” He shook his head at Zag’s confused look. “There’s like a dozen over there. Which one do you mean?”
“Any of them.”
Arge lifted a brow.
The Darkal shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that one has something special inside. There are just tools I need. Or, well, a particular type of tool. A type that is specifically kept locked up at night.”
Unlike Zag’s anxious squirming, Arge felt quite relaxed in his own seat, his scaly mass filling the confines of the chair. The sides of his thighs pushed over the edges, and his blubbery gut spread out before him, burying his body in soft layers of pudge. Despite the night’s interruption, he grabbed the drink he’d left behind a moment ago to resume its consumption. Mayyyybe it was true he’d already had a few drinks before the interruption, but that wouldn’t stop him from complaining and being mad about it. “Why don’t you just blow it up with magic or something and go in yourself?”
“Everyone would know someone went in. And maybe notice something’s been stolen.” He eyed Arge’s bulk from his seat, studying the dragon sitting across from him. Arge knew his scales were an unusually dark shade of gray, and his belly and wings were an even darker shade, but it wasn’t as if Zag hadn’t seen other dragons from his island before. He didn’t need to stare.
Arge didn’t like being inspected. He stared back and scowled.
Zag looked away. “If you have access, can you just let me inside? Then I’ll leave you alone.”
The larger dragon drummed his claws on the table and took a sip of his drink. “Is there something else I can do to convince you to leave me alone? Something faster?” It had already occurred to him that he could just tell the other dragon that he didn’t have access, but he remembered the other species could hear lies. He still found it unbelievable that someone with shit tons of magic would need something from him desperately enough to bother him in the middle of the night.
The other dragon flattened his ears. “What if I just—after tonight, NEVER bother you again,” he vowed.
Arge scoffed. “Uhhh that’s a bit weak.” He thought for a second. Then he came up with the perfect trade. “What if you do me a huge favor?”
Zag stared at him blankly. “Okay? What sort of favor?”
Arge chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about how to word his negotiation correctly. “It has to be any favor I want. Anything at all.”
Zag seemed uncertain. “I don’t like the way that sounds.”
“How bad do you want to get into the storage units?”
Arge watched as the pudgy Darkal visibly thought it over. Then he took a deep breath. “Alright. What’s the favor?”
Arge leaned forward slightly. “Can you ask my nephew to talk to me?”
“Huh?”
Arge’s ears flattened a bit. “I mean a real conversation. Without yelling or name-calling.”
Zag crossed his arms. “When I agreed to a favor, I meant one that was actually possible.”
“You agreed ‘any’ favor,” Arge insisted.
Zag stared for a long moment. Then he sighed. “I’ll try the best I can. Okay?”
Slowly, Arge nodded. Since he’d given Zag a near-impossible task to complete, the trade would be good enough. Serves him right. “Can I at least ask what the tool is?”
“No.”
Arge shot him a look.
Zag’s cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of gray as he blushed. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
“How the hell am I supposed to help you find it?”
“You don’t have to help me find it. You just have to let me inside the storage unit area.”
The larger dragon gave him a dubious glance, scratching the top of his bulging gut absently as his brain churned it over. “Alright. Whatever. I’ll let you inside, and then I’m leaving before I get fired. And then you owe me that favor. Yeah?”
Zag readily nodded. “Okay.”
This wasn’t at all how Arge had expected his night to go, but he reluctantly heaved himself from his seat, his belly rolling forward off his lap as he stood. Well, it was technically still on his lap, just vertically now. “I guess we’ll get going. No reason to stand around.”
Zag nodded again as he followed Arge out the door. The massive Faerian remembered to leave the other half of his drink on the table and gave it one sad, final parting glance.
Outside, the night was humid, the towering trees that surrounded the town giving the air a damp feeling. He didn’t like it.
If Zag minded their surroundings, he didn’t give any indication, padding along silently next to Arge’s much heavier pawsteps. The larger dragon still couldn’t believe he was dragging him through town in the middle of the night to open a fucking door. At least it sounded relatively easy.
The streets were empty, and they made quick progress through the town, despite leaving Arge panting somewhat. He was really out of shape. Really, really out of shape. The bulging swaddle of fat that hung from his body was evidence of that. Everything jiggled with each step, his lardy legs squeezing by each other, his fat arms resting on the large curves of his love handles. Everything was soft and well-padded. His pudgy tail lashed unhappily as they moved towards their destination.
Slightly ahead of him and slightly less winded, Zag’s own potbelly bounced a little with each step, his own chubby thighs brushing. He eventually came to a stop and pointed ahead, opening his mouth to speak, but Arge hadn’t predicted his sudden halt and bowled into him from behind. Zag, the much smaller of the two dragons, was thrown forward onto the ground with the force of Arge’s gut smashing into him.
Arge looked away and sighed with exasperation. He would never admit that he was actually looking away because he was blushing a bit. As heavy as he was, he sometimes he couldn’t quite control his own momentum. “Sorry about that,” he said gruffly.
The Darkal rolled over and glanced up at him, wrinkling his snout. “I was about to say that we’re here.” He stood and brushed himself off. “These are the units I was talking about.”
Arge glanced around. “These aren’t storage units. They’re storage buildings.”
“Yeah.”
Arge shot him a look. “What do you mean, just, ‘yeah’? There’s a huge fucking difference.” He glanced back at the buildings uncertainly. Full buildings, not boxes sitting out in the night. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for.
“Well the units I need are inside the buildings.” Zag stared up at him like everything he said was easy, simple, and reasonable.
Arge groaned. Or maybe it sounded more like a growl. Maybe it was both. “I specifically said I don’t want to lose my job tonight.”
Zag flattened his ears. “Doesn’t your ID just unlock the doors? They’ll never know anything’s wrong.”
“You really think they don’t have security?”
“Why would they call security if your ID just unlocks the doors?” he pointed out. “They won’t think someone’s breaking in or anything if you already have permission to enter. We’ll just be in and out.”
The fatter dragon stared. “‘We’? What do you mean ‘we’?”
The Darkal looked away again, fidgeting a bit. “The storage units inside will need the card too.”
Arge let out a frustrated growl. “I’m done here. I quit.”
“Wait—”
Arge turned and sauntered away, his belly swaying slightly, holding up both paws to flip Zag off from behind now that his entire night had been wasted. The only thing that should have been wasted right now was himself.
He came to a sudden halt as he felt an encompassing grip on his legs, stopping him abruptly in his tracks. He strained to take another step, but he’d dealt with enough magic in his days to recognize that Zag was really, really strong. His gut shook and wobbled with the effort.
It was also really rude. “Ugh, get off!”
He craned his head around, his second chin squishing on his neck as he glanced back at the other dragon. Zag was staring back, his fists at his sides, the soft blue aura of his magic just slightly lighting up the space between them. “Please don’t go. We made a deal.”
Arge thought seriously for a moment. Let out a long sigh. It was true. And he also knew he couldn’t pass up the monumental favor Zag had promised. “Fine. Get your magic off of me. We’ll go in, and I’ll unlock one of the storage units. But THEN I’m leaving,” he warned.
Zag let go and Arge stomped back over, physically and emotionally exhausted.
His ID card was rejected when he swiped it at the door.
They stared at the door for a moment. The blubbery Faerian sighed. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m… going home… uh… now…” He trailed off distractedly as he watched the Darkal begin to poke around outside the building. He shifted a bit on his feet. “Are you coming or staying?” He wasn’t really sure why he bothered asking. He was indifferent to the idea of walking back together. He really ought to just leave his annoying visitor right here.
Zag had carefully made his way down the side of the building, pausing at a corner. He glanced back at Arge. “There’s a grate here I think we can get through.”
Arge stared back. “What is it about this situation that keeps making you say ‘we’?”
The other dragon flattened his ears. “Well once I get inside, I’ll still need your ID to open the door to one of the storage units. Remember?”
Arge crossed his arms over his expansive, pudgy chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, my ID isn’t working. It probably only works up until a certain time of night. It is the middle of the night, you know.”
“If the outside of the building is secured at night, won’t the units inside have regular scanners that aren’t locked at a certain time of night?” Zag countered.
Up until now, Arge had been repeatedly trying to get himself out of this situation as soon as possible, but he gave Zag’s question some actual thought. What he said made sense. The obvious problem being, of course, that they couldn’t get to the storage units in the first place, as intended by whoever designed this whole damn system. “I guess.”
Zag beckoned him over to the grate he found. “Let’s go in and at least try.”
Arge stifled another groan as he made his way over. At this point, he probably wouldn’t even go home and drink afterwards. He’d just go to bed.
The grate Zag was pointing at was roughly ground-level and looked a bit smaller than Arge would have liked to see. “I think this one isn’t going to work. Not for me, at least.” The Darkal was significantly shorter and narrower by comparison; even though he was a little fat, he’d probably squeeze through. Fitting Arge’s much more impressive girth through the tiny square, however, was a fantasy.
Zag seemed to think otherwise. “We can at least try.”
Arge just couldn’t win tonight. With a massive sigh, he got down on his knees in front of the grate, pulling at it to get it off. He realized very quickly that he wouldn’t be able to remove it; it was made of Eemian steel, arguably the strongest substance ever created, and also impervious to magic. Well, every type of magic except Darkal magic, although he wasn’t really sure how that worked. “You know, Zag, maybe all of these roadblocks is the universe trying to tell us that this just isn’t going to happen tonight.”
Zag frowned. “The only roadblock has been the door.”
Ah, of course. Zag wouldn’t see his own interruption as a huge roadblock to enjoying a lovely, peaceful night.
“If you move over, I can get the grate off of the door.”
With a tired sigh, Arge moved over to let the Darkal work. He’d probably done more sighing tonight alone than he had in the past thousand years.
Zag focused on the grate. The metal twisted and ripped off after only a moment, with absolutely no visible effort on the Darkal’s part. “Alright. You first.”
“What?? Me? Why,” Arge growled.
Even in the dark, he could tell Zag’s cheeks had an awkward blush. “Because if I go through first, you’ll turn around and leave.”
Oddly enough, the idea hadn’t occurred to Arge. “You’re a Darkal. You’d just outrun me,” he pointed out. Wait. Why did he feel the need to convince Zag he’d actually help? Arge figured out that at some point during the conversation, he’d finally committed himself to doing this. He sighed—again—and finally shuffled towards the grate. “Alright, whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
Arge stretched his arms forward, his shoulders following. Even in spite of being fat, he also had a naturally stocky build—the extra padding didn’t help, of course, but his broad shoulders couldn’t help but brush past the edges, fortunately his smooth scales helping them slip through. The doughy pudge that hung off his upper torso grazed the sides a bit more firmly, the flab catching the edges of the square opening.
With his front half inside the shell of the building, he could finally see the storage units they were after; the area looked a bit like a hallway, the doors to the units lining it up and down. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any security in the area, and the fact that the lights had been left dim helped cool Arge’s anxiety a little. No one was here.
“Um. Can you keep going?” Zag’s voice was muffled by the wall of Arge’s fat body blocking the opening.
With a scowl Zag couldn’t see, Arge continued to pull himself forward, slowing down somewhat as he reached the largest part of his gut. As expected, the square hole was tightening its grip on his sides with every inch forward. He shook his head to himself and started to back out. This was a bad idea. This was dumb. He’d already known he wouldn’t fit.
“Hey—Keep going! You’re almost through.”
“Almost through with this night, you mean.”
Zag was quiet for a moment. Arge bumped into him as he continued to try backing out. The Darkal was sitting directly behind him. “Move out of the way,” he growled. He actually wasn’t sure that Zag would, and was surprised to feel the other dragon give him some room.
Of course, Zag needn’t have bothered. As Arge backed out, he felt the edges of the hole catching the rolls of his chest that he’d squeezed through before. The pudge didn’t fold down the same way as it had from the other direction, squishing up around the metal. He turned diagonally a bit, hoping to give his broad shoulders some more space, but secretly knew that his shoulders weren’t the real reason he was having trouble maneuvering. His fat midsection came to a quivering halt long before he got that far. “Shit.”
“What happened?”
“The hole is too small,” Arge grunted, wriggling a little. “Pull me out.”
“I can probably push you in.”
Arge sighed. “I’m, uh. Too big.” He didn’t want to say it.
“You’re too fat?”
He stifled a growl that Zag had said it. “Sure. Yeah. Now pull me out.”
“I think it would make more sense to push you in.”
Arge wriggled unhappily, the edges of the grate pressing tightly into his sides. “How so? I’m, uh, wider back there, I think.” He paused. Realization dawned. “You just want to push me inwards because you still want me to open one of those doors.”
Zag’s silence confirmed his accusation. He let out a growl. “Zag. Get me out of here.”
“You can fit if you suck in a little.”
“Zag. I. Want. To. Go. Home.”
Another pause. “Fiiiine. Can we come back another time?”
“You mean day time? When your plan may have actually worked?” Arge immediately slapped his forehead. Why was he encouraging him?
Zag sounded a bit happier when he said, “Okay, yeah. You’re right, we can come back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?? That’s not what I—” Arge paused when he finally felt small paws wrap around his ankles and tug. Finally, at least something was getting done. He tried to suck in even harder than before as he felt the smaller dragon pull. The fat that he’d already squeezed through the square bunched and spread over the edges, refusing to release its hold. Every tug made the soft, rolling adipose jiggle and shake, getting nowhere.
“Ugh.” Arge let out his breath. He was stuck pretty tight. Pulling him back out wasn’t going to work. His only other option was pushing forward. Just as Zag had said.
Zag was quiet a long moment.
Arge knew what he was thinking. “Okay, you can say I-told-you-so and get it over with.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. Just that I was right.”
“That’s the same exact sentence but with different words.”
They both waited to catch their breath for a minute. Arge couldn’t see what Zag was doing, but it occurred to him that Zag could do anything he wanted behind him. If he chose to leave, Arge wouldn’t be able to stop him. He squirmed anxiously. He wasn’t sure that he could get out of here himself. “You HAVE to get me out, okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m about to do that. What other options do we have?”
Arge had to admit there was something reassuring about the fact that leaving him here hadn’t even occurred to the other dragon.
He got ready to suck in again. When he felt chubby paws on his behind, he took that as his cue. He put his paws on either side of him and strained inwards this time, the flab on his arms hanging as he wriggled and pushed. He suddenly felt Zag’s paws move from his rump to his sides and almost let out his breath in surprise, but kept going as he felt the other dragon begin to press directly on the sides of his belly to knead it through.
The smaller dragon’s paws sank deeply into the lard, the girth of Arge’s belly enveloping each forceful shove. Arge grimaced as he switched to grabbing the rolls of his own belly that had fit through the hole so far and pulling at it, the soft layers of blubber filling his grip. He was a bit disgusted at himself, feeling the way that his fingers sank into the huge swaddle of pudgy padding on his body, a result of years of overeating and pure laziness. This was really just his own fault. And now it was everyone’s problem.
Arge was snapped back to the present by the feeling of his belly finally shifting in the hole as the kneading spread it through. He kicked and wriggled a bit with renewed strength, Zag continuing to push him, and he budged forward again. Holy shit, it was working. He was still straining to suck in, but tried to hold his breath a few moments more…
The edges of the grate caught on his hips, but the last of his belly finally squeezed through, prompting Arge to lie on the floor gasping to catch his breath. So far tonight, he’d gotten way more exercise than he was used to, even if a solid half of it including flopping around on the floor like a fat fish.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Arge wheezed. He reached down and massaged his gut for a moment, his thick knuckles disappearing into the swell of fat. He tried to stretch a little, but his hips were still wedged in the hole, which he wasn’t able to suck in, of course.
“Ready to keep going?”
Arge groaned. “I guess so?” Did he really have a choice?
He felt Zag put his paws around his hips and begin trying to wriggle the quivering blubber through the opening, then moving to applying pressure directly on the larger dragon’s rump. Arge blushed a little, and was glad Zag couldn’t see him. Then he remembered that Darkals were telepathic and Zag could sense his emotions instead, and he blushed harder. He would have considered dying of embarrassment on the spot, if it wouldn’t have been such an inconvenient time to pass away.
“You’re almost… there…” Zag grunted, and Arge thrashed and clawed his way forward a bit more frantically, ready for this to be over with. Lashing his tail outside seemed to help work some of the pudge inwards as Zag pushed on it, until finally, ever so slowly, Arge began to move again. At the fattest part of his behind, for a moment, they almost thought they’d lost the fight. By some miracle, however, with a bit more squeezing, Arge finally felt his ass wrench through the grate, followed quickly by his quivering thighs and fat tail.
He rolled over and sprawled on his back for a moment, his gut resting on top of him, breathing heavily.
“Um. Can you move over a bit?”
Arge dragged his legs out of the way as the smaller dragon wormed his way through. Zag stretched out his arms and pushed against the walls on either side of the square hole, then army-crawled the rest of the way through until the fattest part of his waistline. Fortunately, he only needed a bit of kicking and scrabbling to wriggle his own chubby body free of the grate’s unforgiving sides. Arge groaned. “After tonight, we are never talking about this again.”
Zag didn’t answer. Arge craned his neck to see that the other dragon was already on his feet and inspecting one of the storage containers, feeling the outside of the door and frowning at the handle. With a deep, exhausted breath, Arge slowly pushed himself to his feet and heavily plodded over. “Alright. In and out. And then I’m leaving.
“Uh.” Zag fidgeted anxiously while refusing to look at him. “It looks like the door doesn’t take ID cards to open.”
“What?” Arge tried to move him out of the way to see for himself. “The entire point of the ID cards is so that only people authorized to use tools from here can get in. They’re not supposed to have a normal key.”
“These storage units do.”
Arge growled wordlessly in his throat. His instinct was to start throwing things and cursing, but he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Well if it just takes a normal key, you can use magic to open it, right?”
Zag turned back to the door and stared at it a long moment.
“Right?”
“Huh?”
“Zag.” Arge crossed his arms. “You’re the most powerful Darkal in the universe. Can you use magic to open a lock?”
Zag frowned. “Former most powerful Darkal in the universe,” he pointed out helpfully. “See, right now, there’s someone else who is actually—”
Arge slapped his forehead. “CAN YOU OPEN THE DOOR OR NOT.”
“What? Oh, of course I can, I was just getting to that. Before you interrupted.” Zag turned back to the door and stared at it another long moment. There was finally a small clicking noise.
Arge let out a pent-up breath. “Finally.”
The smaller chubby dragon pressed on the door. “I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”
Arge wondered why he couldn’t just stroll out of here right now and leave him to it, but didn’t have time to ask before Zag disappeared into the dark interior.
The fat Faerian tiredly sat himself down against the wall, his gut spreading over his thighs. He knew that Darkals could see in the dark, but he had no idea how well, so he didn’t know how long Zag would be—
The Darkal appeared back in the doorway. “Found it.” He frowned at Arge on the floor. “Why are you sitting?”
Arge scrambled to his feet. Or, as fast as he could beneath his own formidable bulk, making him huff and puff on the way up. “That was really fast.”
Zag was holding what looked vaguely like a small box in his paws, several protrusions on one end. Arge eyed it curiously. He didn’t recognize it, and didn’t know what it did. “That’s it? We came here for that?”
“Yeah.”
Arge stared a moment longer until Zag took a hint and elaborated, “This is the only place that stores them. It’s also the only thing we can use for… uh, what we’re planning to use it for.”
It was clear Arge wasn’t getting a further explanation than that, so he finally switched to letting his eyes scan the dim corridor for an exit. He changed the subject. “We’d best get out of here before we’re discovered.”
Zag pulled the door shut behind him as they started down the corridor, the lock resetting and the ‘tool’ clasped tightly in his paws. “Hey, um, thanks for helping me.”
Arge considered not replying, but finally grunted out, “Sure. I guess. This is never happening again though, got it?”
The shorter dragon nodded. After another moment, he glanced up sharply and pricked his ears. “Shit.”
Arge glanced down at the tool. Nothing seemed to be happening. “What?”
Zag followed his gaze and shook his head. “Oh, it’s not this thing. I can just hear someone coming.”
Arge’s Faerian senses couldn’t hear anything yet, but he trusted Zag’s stronger ones. He stifled a groan. “I guess I’ll add ‘getting fired and almost certainly arrested’ to my list of activities tonight after all.”
“Can’t you just, tell them that you came in here for a tool and got locked in or something?”
Arge pondered that a moment. “I mean, maybe, but they’d have a lot of questions about why you’re here.”
Zag flattened his ears. He glanced around quickly. His face brightened again as his gaze fell over the far wall. “What if I climb out that window?”
Arge glanced at the window. It was even smaller than the grate. Before he could start angrily yelling, Zag quickly continued, “I sort of just mean me, of course. I don’t, uh, think you’d fit.” He looked away awkwardly. “But I mean, if I leave, you could still say you’re here for tools.”
Arge wasn’t very confident in his plan. He saw the size of that window. “How much more space is there between this section of the building and the front door?”
“Um.” Zag seemed to focus for a moment, thinking. Or maybe listening for more security dragons in their vicinity. “We’d have to walk past the guy I hear in order to get to it.”
“Great. Perfect.” Arge put his paw behind his head and rubbed the base of his horns, thinking. He’d been hoping that since the doors were only locked from outside, they could make their way back to the front of the building and stroll straight out the front door. Getting caught with Zag in tow definitely wouldn’t allow him to do that. Unless Zag really did manage to escape…
He glanced back to the window. It wasn’t just too small for Arge; it looked like it could be a bit of a tight squeeze for even Zag. “You think the window is your best choice?”
“The alternative is that we stick together and try to come up with an explanation.”
The Darkal was right about that. There was no explanation.
Arge reluctantly plodded to the window, digging his claws under the bottom and lifting. It went up easily enough, but didn’t open as high as he was wanted. He grimaced. “Are you sure? Are you really sure?” Honestly, if Zag backed out of this plan, Arge wouldn’t even blame him. It would be a tight fit. Arge’s own pudgy middle was still hurting for the same reason.
The short, chubby dragon appeared to sharpen his resolve. “It’s important to not get caught just as much as it’s important to have this tool.”
Arge so, so desperately wanted to know what this thing was that they were risking everything for, but knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with more questions. He tried convincing himself to take Zag’s word for it. “Alright.” He stood aside as the smaller dragon approached.
Quite a bit shorter, Zag had to jump a bit to even get his head and shoulders through, his feet hanging off the ground. Arge quickly found himself helping the other dragon, Zag’s chubby thighs bending over the larger dragon’s heaving paws as he tried to lift the plump Darkal through the open window.
Easier said than done. Zag’s bulk almost immediately began to fill the space, as expected. Arge continued to support the other dragon’s weight as Zag placed his paws on the wall outside and heaved to squirm through. His path was blocked by his round, pudgy potbelly pressed up firmly against the window sill.
Arge began to push more earnestly. “You don’t… have… some sort of… magic… to help?” he panted.
“I could crumple and warp the wall until I fit through. It wouldn’t be very discreet, though,” Zag strained through gritted teeth. “All of this would sort of be for nothing.”
Arge groaned, but continued pushing. “Well then at least suck in a little more, yeah?”
He heard the smaller fat dragon suck in his breath. Arge tried to take advantage and push harder, the slightly smaller fatass kicking his hind legs as he squirmed. It was very inconvenient and not helping at all, but Arge just let him. He just wanted this to be over with.
Zag was panting. Arge suddenly had an idea as he recalled how he’d gotten through before, and he started trying to knead Zag’s belly through the opening the same way. He felt him jolt as he was startled, but then went back to pushing, and Arge went back to heaving as he pushed directly on the fat trying to squeeze it through. The large roll over his hips was bulging on either side, and his fingers sank in deeply there as he tried to get the overhang of fat through the narrow window.
He was elated when he felt the dragon budge a bit. “Keep pushing on the outside,” he wheezed, eager to get Zag’s ass out of his face and get out of here before security found them. He felt the other dragon twist a bit as he pushed himself forward, wriggling his fat little tail, until he budged forward another inch. And then another. And then—
He tumbled to the ground when he finally slipped through, since he was slightly too high to catch himself. Arge poked his head out the window to look down at him. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” He saw Zag grit his teeth a bit. The pudgy Darkal looked down at the ‘tool’, then turned his gaze back up to Arge. “Um… thanks a lot. For helping me tonight.”
Arge stifled his millionth sigh. “Sure. Now, get out of here before you’re seen. I’ll just tell the security guard I was lost in here and walk out the front door.” It really was their best plan now. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could work with that. “Don’t wait around or anything to get caught.”
The chubby dragon nodded. He rose and turned away. “Sure. Good luck.”
Arge turned back to the dim hallway, eager to leave the building. He hoped he didn’t need any extra luck.
He was just grateful to leave through a real fucking door.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Size 105 x 120px
File Size 60.9 kB
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