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Real Person Slash- A Spoonful of Sugar- Robert Downey Jr/Jude Law

For Lyvyan!

Real Person Slash- A Spoonful of Sugar- Robert Downey Jr/Jude Law

(A couple of warnings attached to this fic, especially as a charming trio unfollowed after I posted this, rather than have the good grace to read the first few lines, realise they don’t like it and stop reading… this is real person slash, gay romance fan fiction between two living persons. I’m not suggesting for a moment that any of it is real! Secondly, this fic contains the acceptance and appreciation of weight gain and feeding. I am sorry if that offends you! Just don’t read it if you don’t want to!)

It could be called, Jude supposes, a taste of his own medicine. He knew the phrase well- primary school bully goes to high school and finds himself the victim; well, it’s a taste of his own medicine. Don’t laugh at your sister for falling over; I’d like to see you scrape the skin off both your knees, that’d be a taste of your own medicine. That Jude Law, the papers shriek, He deserves a taste of his own medicine!

But the term is outdated. Medicine used to be bitter and foul and requiring a spoonful of sugar and a singing Nanny to make it bearable. Medical science has advanced now, making medicine tasty and bright and appealing to children. The seven-year-old Jude would have happily drank a bottle of strawberry calpol if the child-proof lid had allowed him. A taste of his own medicine doesn’t sound too bad to him.

Taste, Jude thinks, is the sense that’s always appealed to him the most. As a baby he carried toys around in his mouth, sucked on a blanket for comfort, learnt to say ‘milk’ before he could say ‘mama’. Jude’s memories are evoked most strongly by a taste, and to him kisses aren’t just an unidentifiable tongue and lips, each one has a unique taste that he can remember. Sienna tastes of cinamon, and butter, and lemon. Samantha tasted of wine and blackcurrant. Robert tastes of smoke, basil, dark chocolate and butterscotch. He’s probably biased, but Jude thinks Robert’s taste is the nicest one.

Jude’s childhood was a confused mixed message, a sort of ‘be who you want to be’ meets ‘do what’s expected of you’. With female family members feeling pressure to be slim, Jude noticed that enjoying taste meant enjoying eating, and enjoying eating meant gaining weight, which wasn’t acceptable. Being a naturally skinny boy made of nervous energy and high metabolism, Jude isn’t affected by his observation, and when he is older there really isn’t any pressure on him, because he is slim and stays slim, and besides, they are far too busy reporting on how terrible a man he is to give a moment’s notice to his waistline.

Despite this, he doesn’t understand the idea that thin is good, anything else is bad. He sees these size zero women and doesn’t find them attractive in the slightest. He thinks that thin just looks cold, and uncomfortable; hard and empty. Curvy bodies are soft, and warm, but he’s never been able to express this because any curvy woman he’s ever dated is looking to lose weight, and won’t eat around him, or let him appreciate them in the way he wants to. Robert is his first chance to really experiment with this ‘kink’, and he loves it. Even just the sight of Robert’s little tummy in a tight t-shirt sends butterflies to his own, and when his hands explore every curve and inch of flesh, Jude cannot get enough.

Eating is, for the two of them, like foreplay. Feeding turns Jude on as much as eating does Robert, so it’s the perfect arrangment, really. Jude doesn’t really notice the first time it happens, he’s caught up in kissing and touching, but he takes the food Robert gives him until he realises he’s eaten just as much as the man opposite him, if not more. His stomach twinges in faint protest, not accustomed to this new fullness, but he can’t help but feel vaguely aroused.

The second time Robert turns the tables, Jude pushes the food away, hesitant.

"I… I don’t know if I want to do this, Robert." he says breathlessly, scared but excited. Robert smiles.

"It’s okay. I won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, Jude. I could just tell," he grins, "That you do want to." He reaches out and pats Jude’s flat stomach. "You’ve got a lot of leway, Jude. You could stand to put on a good few pounds without anyone even noticing." The way Robert says it makes his heart thump. He swallows, and says simply,


Jude has a capacity to eat like he never realised. Robert feeds and feeds him; pizza and chips, meat and bread and cheese, choolate and cake and a customary butterscotch sundae. Robert kisses him, their lips sticky with ice cream, and his hand hovers above Jude’s belly. It’s round and hard, stuffed full, jutting out over his jeans. Robert presses against it, making Jude moan in both discomfort and pleasure. Robert rubs Jude’s swollen tummy until the groans cease to be uncomfortable. Jude yanks opn the button and the zip, sighing in relief. “These jeans,” Jude murmurs, “Have fit me for ten years.” Robert laughs.

"So isn’t it time you let them go?"

"Or let myself go, more like," Jude wriggles uncomfortably, "Christ, Robert, I can hardly move. I don’t know how you put up with me doing this to you for so long!" He pokes Robert’s tummy, "How long ‘til I’ve got pudge like you?"

"Oh, things are already in motion. Right now your body is turning a lot of that food into more lovely Jude Law for me to appreciate…"

"We’re a right pair," Jude observes casually.

"Indeed we are, Judesie, indeed we are," Robert agrees, before kissing him.