The humans in the cage stare at him when they think he is asleep. He can feel their eyes on him, frightened and desperate. I'm not the one you should fear, Ethan thinks but doesn't say. There's no point. Even now he is but his brother's keeper. They assume what Grayson does, he will soon do too. Lying on the floor wrapped in a thick, warm blanket beside his brother, Ethan eyes the large enclosure on top of the table, watching the humans dart away from the bars as if electrocuted by his sudden gaze. Even in the firelight their eyes are dark little pinpoints of light, full of life, full of existence, an existence his slumbering brother would be more than happy to snuff out in his gurgling, acid enriched stomach. Speaking of his brother, Grayson mumbles some incoherent words under his breath in sleep, shifting obnoxiously towards Ethan, and throwing his arm over Ethan's chest. Ethan grasps his forearm and places the limp limb back against his brother's body. His eyes dart back to the cage on the table. Grayson's brow creases for a moment, before going lax again. From this angle on the floor only one fourth of the cage can be seen, but Ethan knows they are hiding just where his peering eyes cannot.
He has let other humans free before. They stood mid-calf to him, looking up with shocked gratefulness at the giant's strange act of mercy, suspicion still lurking in their eyes, ready for Ethan to grin viciously and make them run and hide so he'd have the thrill of hunting them down. But Ethan did not do anything like that. He just urged them to get going before his brother came back to the cabin to find them gone. Sometimes, Ethan wondered if the humans could not tell Grayson and he apart and confused him with his brother; however, deep down, Ethan knew they were so terrified because he was a giant and he could be the kindest giant in the world, but all they saw was a man-eating predator.
Ethan does not let the humans free anymore. At first, he would take a human at a time-so Grayson would not notice the absence-and let them free in the woods surrounding their home. But after Grayson found out that he was letting their food go on purpose, he gave Ethan the silent treatment for over a week. Ethan promised him he'd never do it again and although Grayson's trust in him was fractured, he took him up on his word.
Ethan turns his gaze back past Grayson's slumbering form to the low burning fireplace crackling in the hearth. Instead of using blocks of firewood like humans they must use whole trees. The smoldering pine needles give off a saccharine, burnt syrupy fragrance. Ethan contemplates the warm orangish glow, the hissing, crackling sparks, the sweet scent.
Ethan does not fully remember how he and his twin brother came to be. Sometimes, when the night is in full bloom and the fireplace casts flickering shadows against the far walls of their cabin, he can remember. Sometimes, when his brother is asleep beside him, his face lax and placid in the depths of his slumber, he can imagine their mother in his mind's eye: chocolate-brown eyes, long auburn hair, and her smile. Small, white teeth and a full, lush mouth, shaped into a cupid's bow.
Memory alludes him, distant and untouchable, coming in strobes of conscious thought. He thinks perhaps something must have happened to her when they were quite young. Faintly, he remembers that she used to walk with them, each at her side, rising just below her hips, their faces peering up at her adoringly. He remembers how she would hunt for them, bringing them squirming, terror-stricken humans that stood just to her mid-calf. Deep in the dark purple recesses of memory, he thinks he can remember Grayson being so eager that he nearly choked, and their mother having to soothe his throat with her long, pale fingers just so the prey would go down. The prey were big for them, but he thinks his mother called them her strong boys, and no one wants to disappoint a parent. Grayson would beam at her praise, happy that he made his mother happy, and urged to be picked up and held against her. Ethan, though, can remember his hesitancy towards humans from the very start, choking them down only when his mother would get worried, having noticed his picky eating habit. Ethan hated their panicked faces, their screams, the way they slipped down his throat, the way they bulged his stomach. The sensation was uncomfortable at best, terrifying at worst.
Then, one day, she was no more. Ethan can't quite remember what happened, only that she was gone one morning to hunt, but she never returned. Worried, Grayson and Ethan searched the woodlands for her, but couldn't find her anywhere. Distantly, when Ethan tries to think of it, he wonders if giants leave their young to defend for themselves when they reach a certain age. Or maybe, just maybe, she was somehow trapped and killed by the humans. Either way, she did not return. Seeing that both were ravenous, and Ethan was not making any effort to hunt, Grayson took it upon himself to search for humans. And find them he did. Ethan can remember Grayson urging him to eat, and how emotionally devastated he was from the sudden disappearance of their mother, that he took the crying human in his grasp, relying on his brother to help smooth the prey down if it got stuck in his esophagus.
From then on it was just Grayson and him. They were each other's world entire. As seasons passed, they grew taller and bigger, until they reached the time where nineteen summers had passed and, like their mother, humans stood mid-calf to them both. It was then they stopped growing, much like the time human men tend to do. Grayson, through violent persuasion, began demanding that the villagers give human sacrifices in exchange for one simple thing: he wouldn't destroy their village, their livestock, their lives. Maybe Grayson was tried of their nomadic life just as much as Ethan.
Before that, Ethan and Grayson had traveled throughout the kingdom, mostly woodlands and rural areas of terrain. They had never come across another giant. It was difficult to even imagine that any other giants existed, but sometimes Ethan would imagine that they lived in happy homes and in family groups just like the humans; he thought maybe one day he and Grayson would find them, and they'd let them into their family with open arms. A wedge of envy would bury itself deep into his psyche when he thought about how good humans had it. They had families. They had lives, communities, and support systems. Although Ethan loved his brother more than anything, it was difficult having only one person to talk to. Whenever he'd try to talk to humans, they'd either run from him, blubber hysterically not to eat them, or plain faint in his presence. The worst was talking to a human that just agreed with everything he said while trying desperately to keep the terror from showing on their face. He didn't want them to agree with him because they were terrified he'd eat them if they didn't, he wanted to have a real conversation with someone who wasn't Grayson.
Before the cabin was built, Ethan and Grayson lived in large caves on the sides of the mountains and sometimes just made camp in wide open meadows. They mostly avoided human establishments with their neighing horses and flaming torches, their rat-infested taverns and loud brothels. The only time they neared human establishments was for Grayson to hunt. By that time, Ethan had begun abstaining from humans and consuming wild animals such as deer, bears, and mountain lions.
It wasn't like Ethan did not have any natural predatory urges. He would be lying if he said that humans weren't juicy or succulent, or that he didn't have an expected yearning for consumption. Humans certainly tasted astonishingly delectable, especially when they were plump and well-fed, but that only came with eating nobles and the morbidly obese. Grayson liked the fat ones, too, and was more than eager to gobble up a portly human when he had the chance, savoring their flavor with his mouth first, swirling his wet, pink tongue around their trembling, panicked body. Although a part of Ethan-that predatory giant in him-craved feeling a human's struggling form bulging in his throat and slipping down into his strong, carnivorous belly, a larger part of him felt undeniable sympathy for their lives. And he knew that humans had lives. They loved, they struggled, they had hopes and aspirations.
"What?" Grayson would say after having his fill, his stomach distended and full of struggling prey. "We're predators, Ethan. Why can't you understand that? We're meant to be at the top of the food chain." He'd scuff the back of Ethan's neck in affection while his brother remained silent and brooding.
So, Grayson ate the humans that were given to them and Ethan stuck to the wildlife, despite Grayson's teasing and subtle concern about his diet. The pact with the villages went so well, that they were given a dozen humans every fortnight. There were some mentally unstable-or just downright machoistic-humans that would give themselves to them willingly, some proclaiming that Ethan and Grayson were gods and that it would be their ultimate pleasure to become one with higher beings. That notion disgusted Ethan. Grayson wasn't much into it either, preferring prey that squirmed and begged, those who didn't want to end up churning in his stomach; however, he ate them anyway, even if they were happy to be a thick bulge sliding down his gullet.
Eight moon cycles had passed since the human sacrifices began before a few of the villages piled their resources and sent a trembling, half-terrified spokesperson to speak to them in the forest. Although the man was certain that he was going to be eaten-and Grayson was about to do it, too-Ethan stopped his brother from harming the herald, sensing that the man had to be there for a reason, other than leading their bi-monthly sacrifices. Ethan was sitting down with his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the human approach. Following Ethan's suddenly wandering gaze to the human, Grayson stood up from his resting place beside him.
"Don't." Ethan said, grasping onto his calf and squeezing. Grayson glanced down at him, smirking. "I'm not going to do anything."
But Ethan knew better. "He looks like a herald. He was probably sent by the villages."
Grayson scowled and glanced back at the human. There was a scroll clenched tightly in his fist as he approached the two giants in the richly flowered meadow. Grayson's face turned sour when he realized there were no humans chained in a line behind him. What was this? Ethan and Grayson had been waiting for their bi-monthly human offering since noon and it was already late afternoon, the sun dipping low into the horizon and casting the air into a crisp coolness. The wind stirred gently. It was unusual for them to be late in delivery and Grayson was getting hungry. When he got hungry, he tended to get snappy too. Ethan could see the sweat pouring in rivulets down the messenger's fair face as his eyes darted between them. Ethan could imagine that he smelled his fear from here: a deep, earthly musk. Grayson must have smelled his fear because he gave a slow Cheshire cat grin, his pink tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip. Grayson felt his mouth fill with saliva at the sight of him, awakening his appetite. His stomach growled audibly; the human's eyes widened, and he shuttered to a stop.
"Gray." A whisper.
"What?" Grayson huffed, aggravated. He glanced down at his brother, feeling Ethan's hand tighten on his shin.
"Sit down."
Grayson glowered. "No."
"You're scaring him half to death. Sit down. I want to hear what he has to say."
Grayson sighed. "Fine." He crouched down, squatting.
"Better?" He said, glancing back at his brother. No, not really, Ethan thought.
"Yeah," Ethan huffed and turned his eyes back to the human.
"We're not going to hurt you," Ethan said in a gentle voice which to his ears sounded reassuring but to a petite human sounded more like a deep, throaty cavern of words. The herald flinched, even though he'd heard the giants speak before. No, that wasn't particularly true. He'd heard one of them speak, the one that was looking at him like he himself would look at a juicy, hot steak, but that giant usually gave some sadistic laments about how tasty they looked, how much he was going to enjoy eating them, and would openly contemplate how long they'd last in his acid enriched stomach. He couldn't remember the other one saying anything before; however, the messenger couldn't be quite sure since the giants looked identical, and it was hard to say if they'd both spoken, and he'd just mixed them up. Nevertheless, the herald found his voice and purposefully looked away from the giant who was squatted intimidatingly before him.
"Please, tell us what you need. We're not going to hurt you," the giant repeated and gave him a smile. The man couldn't look away from the giant's large, white rows of teeth. Seeing his eyes widen, the giant's smile faded.
"He might not, but I would love to. Aren't you a plump little thing?" Came the whiskey rough voice of the other giant. The herald swallowed thickly as the giant smirked hungerly at him. He watched, mesmerized, as the sitting giant slapped the smirking one on the back of the head.
"Gray, shut up." He hissed lowly.
"Ow," the giant glowered and rubbed the back of his head. "I was just joking."
"I have come with an offering." The herald stuttered. Both giants glanced back at him in unison.
"What kind of offering?" The crouching giant-Gray-sneered. "It better be good. If not, well, I'm hungry…and you're the only human around so…"
The other giant sighed, exasperated.
The herald nervously licked his lips and unwound the parchment paper, barely giving a glance to the words written before him. He'd memorized everything on it before he'd left. He hadn't wanted to risk looking away from the monsters for a second.
"The villages of Ellyce, Astra, Charlton, Reuben, and Torrance have piled together their resources to make a fresh pact with you both today. In exchange for the bi-monthly human sacrifices we have partaken in since last April, we offer to build you a sustainable home, fashion you suitable clothing, proposition you services, and give you items that would be suitable for your, uh, particular size."
Ethan stared at the man. Clothes? He had never given much thought to wearing clothes, mostly because no human clothes could ever fit him. He didn't have any materials suited for his size -or the skill-to sew up his own. He and Grayson had always been naked. Ethan could imagine wearing clothes and he liked the idea, mostly because that meant he didn't have to snuggle up to Grayson on cold nights to preserve body heat. And the humans would build them a home? How many people would it take for them to have a home, and how much wood? Although these thoughts were foreign and overwhelming, Ethan could imagine what it would be like to live in a home. He had peered into vacant human establishments before and had fantasized about fitting into such a warm, comfortable space. He smiled at the idea of getting to live outside the harsh elements.
Grayson sniffed, looking disgusted. The herald quickly continued. "A handful of experts would teach you skills. Skills I think you may find interesting. Like how to sew and how to boil water on a fire. We have seamstresses working on articles of clothing to fit your size. Of course, exact measurements would be helpful." He glanced timidly at the two of them. "It has been a great community effort, but we feel that it is worth it. We have also fashioned the following items to be made for your size." The herald quickly glanced down at the parchment paper.
"A thumb tac and needle. Thread. Two pillows stuffed with geese feathers. Two blankets. A bar of lye soap. An iron pot to hang over a fireplace. A fireplace poker. A bowl and a plate. Two cups. A serving spoon." The herald licked his lips and glanced at them. "Also, a sufficient amount of coffee grounds and tea. We also have a set of ladies that would be more than happy to cut your hair."
Ethan subconsciously felt his long hair that he tied up in a loose ponytail threading down his back. He'd never thought about that before. He could imagine how nice he'd look with short hair. Grayson, too.
"You would choose what location you would want your home to be and what you would want it to look like. We have artists that would be more than happy to draw up a plan per your suggestions. We will give you all the supplies listed and with your permission, we will take your measurements to create proper clothing for the both of you. We estimate the house will take about sixteen months to build. In exchange for all this, the human sacrifices will stop, and we ask that you do not eat anyone from Ellyce, Astra, Charlton, Reuben, or T-"
The man's voice cut off with a gasp as Grayson snatched him up much like a child would snatch up a doll. Grayson pulled the human forward to his mouth with a speed that sent the man's arms flailing. Grayson could feel the succulent fat underneath the man's stupid clothes. The man's double chin flapped comically, and his portly, thick arms jiggled with the delicious fat underneath the thin material of his sleeves. Grayson's cavernous belly lurched in primal hunger at the familiar weight in his hand, grumbling audibly. Grayson stood up.
"No! P-please don't eat me! P-plea-"
He opened his mouth wide, shoving the human in headfirst. Grayson's breath was sickly hot, and saliva slung from his upper teeth, slipping against the man's back and soaking into his finely tailored clothes. Usually, Grayson liked teasing his prey, sucking on their bodies, pulling them into his mouth with an agonizing slowness by their feet, allowing them to see just where they were going to end up. He loved to taste and to tease. Always had. But now he slurped the human in swiftly. The man flailed as Grayson's tongue slipped between his legs, curling around his groin and against his buttocks. He leaned his head back and gulped. His powerful throat muscles moved the wailing human to the back of his throat, and he swallowed abruptly again, reaching his hand up to feel the large bulge in his gullet making its way down to his aching belly. He could feel the human slip into his stomach, and he smiled at the fullness he felt. That was one of the best feelings: the feeling of ampleness after prolonged hunger.
Grayson licked his lips and let his hand settle on the visible bulge shifting helplessly underneath his palm. It was comical to think that there was, what? Muscle, fat, and flesh between the human and freedom?
"Grayson! What did you do that for!?" Came Ethan's enraged yell. He glanced at his brother as Ethan got up off the ground.
"What? He said he wasn't going to bring us anymore food, so he became food," Grayson said, as though it was the most obvious reasoning in the world.
"Did you listen to anything he said?!" Ethan exclaimed, grasping his bicep. Grayson grabbed his hand and shoved him off.
"Yeah. The humans decided to break the deal. Now they are going to pay the consequences."
Ethan shook his head. "I can't believe you, Gray. No. I want to make the deal! I want to live in a home! Throw him back up."
"No," Grayson scowled, taking a step back. Ethan seized his forearm.
"Grayson, throw him up! Right now!"
"No." Grayson rested his free hand on his stomach in a possessive gesture. His stomach was already gurgling, content with the meal he'd given it, eager to work the meat down for nutrients.
"If you don't, I'm leaving and not coming back."
"You wouldn't dare." Grayson's voice was so cold it could freeze hell.
Ethan gave him a leveled stare. "If you don't throw him back up, I'm going to leave. I won't come back, Grayson. I swear this time. You'll be all alone."
Ethan released his arm and stepped away.
Grayson looked at him and thumbed gently at the skin right below his belly button, feeling the meat's frantic kicks and smacks against his tight stomach walls. His stomach groaned lowly, and Grayson stifled a burp in his clenched fist. Ethan's glare turned fiercer, and he took another step back.
Grayson's shoulders slumped.
"Fine."
Ethan's expression lightened.
Grayson dropped down to his knees and braced one hand against the ground. With his other hand, he slipped his fingers down the back of his throat, triggering his gag reflex. His stomach lurched unwillingly, and the human bulged his throat as he upchucked. The human landed with an umph! back on the sweet bed of flowers. Grayson coughed, hating the burn of stomach acid at the back of his throat. White faced and trembling, the human stared up at them. He smelled absolutely foul, soaking wet with gastrointestinal fluid. Grayson stood back up, rubbing at his throat in irritation.
"You're the reason I have abandonment issues." Grayson growled.
"No, Mother is the reason you have abandonment issues." Ethan retorted.
Grayson's face flushed and his jaw tightened. He grew silent and to Ethan that would normally be a relief-for his brother to finally shut up and stop talking-but he felt a pang of sympathy for him. He hadn't meant it. Not really. Well, maybe he had. The messenger managed to stand.
"Are you okay?" Ethan asked the human sympathetically. He crouched down before the man. He didn't reach out to touch him, seeing as that might cause the human to faint or, worse, have a heart attack.
"H-he ate me." The herald stuttered, falling back over. Small petals sprayed up in the air after he landed, bringing yellow pollen dancing through the air.
"I know. He is very sorry. Aren't you, Gray?"
Grayson glared, crossing his arms. "No. Not really."
"He ate me!" The messenger repeated hysterically.
"Yeah, and you're lucky I threw you back up or you'd be churning in my stomach right now." Grayson sneered.
Ethan glared up at him.
"I-I was, I was-" the messenger jabbered incoherently.
"I really want a home, Gray," Ethan admitted. "If they can build us a home, then we won't have to live out in the elements anymore. I want clothes, too."
"Like the humans," Grayson scoffed. Ethan shook his head.
"No, I want clothes for me. For you. For us. I just want to be comfortable."
"It's not my fault you're weird. I'm comfortable right here, just like this. If they cut off the food supply, then what am I going to eat? I'm not going to start eating deer like you. It's just unnatural." Grayson wrinkled up his nose in disgust. "We'll have to become nomadic again."
"No," Ethan shook his head. "You just can't hunt the humans in the five villages. You can search elsewhere for food and come back home with them."
Grayson glanced back down at the human. He licked his lips. "If I agree with you, can I eat him?"
"No!" Ethan cried, reaching his limit.
Grayson huffed. "Okay, fine. We'll do it. But I'm still hungry."
Ethan sighed. "You can go hunting in a little bit. I'll go with you."
Ethan smiled at the human. "Okay, we except the offer."
The messenger nodded numbly, wiping the digestive fluid off his face with the back of his hand.
It took more than sixteen months to build the cottage. It was more like two years. But Ethan did not hold it against them. After all, if the humans were going to build it, they were going to build it right. It didn't help that they had Grayson's hungry persuasion to contend with. Surprisingly, Grayson did not eat any of the builders, the artists, the seamstresses, or the foremen. He didn't touch anyone in the five villages listed in the contract. Not once. In fact, he kept his promise to Ethan not to sabotage the shaky pact, something that Ethan himself was honestly shocked about, seeing that they had never been in such close proximity with so many humans before, much less having full conversations with them close to every day. Ethan and Grayson chose a spot in the woods that wasn't too close to humans but not near, either. They made sure the cabin was close to a river so that they'd be able to get water easier.
It became quite obvious that the humans preferred Ethan over his brother on any given day, mostly because Ethan didn't look at them like they were simply something to eat. Ethan was delighted when the ladies came by two months into the project to cut his hair. When they timidly asked if they could keep the long, braided rope, he said yes. When Grayson saw him with his short hair, he laughed hysterically; however, Grayson did not refuse when the ladies asked if they could cut his hair next.
Ethan was pleased when nine months into the project, the seamstresses presented them both with three shirts, two pairs of trousers, socks, and two pairs of shoes made of cow hide sew together. Although Ethan instantly took to the clothes, Grayson was slower to become used to them. When Grayson finally chose to wear them every day, all the humans were relieved. Ethan could imagine they were sick and tired of seeing an enormous penis and set of testicles every day. He couldn't blame them. The seamstress taught Ethan how to sew with his own giant-sized instruments and while he enjoyed it, Grayson refused to learn. He was more interested in watching the builders build. A burly man taught them how to boil water over the fireplace to make warm bath water. A pair of women taught them how to lather up lye soap and clean with it. A slim man with a mustache showed them how to use a filter to make coffee-a surprisingly bitter drink-and tea.
By the time the cottage was finished, the structure looked gigantic to any human. But to Ethan and Grayson, the cabin was a perfect size. Since giants liked sleeping on the ground, the humans had created a thick, plush rug that settled in front of a hearth. In the hearth they could start a fire. Above the fire, there was a round, black kettle that they could warm water in for tea or baths. They gave them pillows and blankets for sleeping. The cabin did not contain any individual rooms but was one long room. The room had a kitchen with a giant-sized bathtub in the center. To the right of the kitchen area was a table with two chairs. To the left of that was the living room which contained a rocking chair, a chest that contained the few precious items that were given to them, their sleeping place, and the hearth. There were two windows in the house, one facing the east and another in the west, right above the arrangements of unused bowls and plates. Ethan did not know why the humans had given them the kitchen instruments, perhaps they'd hope they'd go vegan? Perhaps they didn't know giants could only consume meat and only consume that meat whole. That's how they were built.
One year later, Ethan lies on the rug with his brother sleeping soundly beside him, glancing periodically at the caged humans on the table. The firelight dances rhythmically on the cabin's walls. Unfortunately, Grayson did not keep his promise after all. Two months after the cabin was finished and they had moved in, Grayson had gotten tired of traveling miles upon miles in search of humans when Ellyce, Astra, Charlton, Reuben, and Torrance were so close in comparison. He crashed a wedding party in Charlton in broad daylight, snatching up the terrorized humans left and right, and shoving them into his mouth.
Ethan was infuriated when Grayson came home that night, his belly swollen and distended with digestion in full swing. Thankfully, the humans were all dead by then, suffocated by his gassy, foul stomach and being churned into a coagulated pile of meat sludge, his body attempting to extract precious nutrients from their bodies. His stomach groaned and gurgled all night as he lay beside him; the noise kept Ethan awake. By the morning, Ethan felt like hitting Grayson in the face for his lack of consideration not only for him, but of all the humans he'd eaten.
Ethan expected retribution. He expected something. But nothing came. Nothing except a messenger. Grayson demanded that the human sacrifice be reinstated. When Grayson necessitated twenty humans a fortnight instead of the original twelve, the man nodded solemnly. Although the messenger agreed with his new demand, Grayson gobbled him up anyway.
"Gray, how is anyone going to know you reinstated the sacrifices if you ate him?" Ethan said, scowling.
Grayson glanced guilty at his distended, rumbling belly. Man, this one was a fighter, something he usually liked. But he was pretty sure he was giving him indigestion.
"I'll think of something."
"Throw him up."
"No."
"Throw him up, dumbass."
Grayson did.
Grayson rumbles something incoherent in his sleep and turns over to face Ethan, his expression peaceful and lax in this unconscious state. Ethan glances up at the table holding the cage-holding the captive humans-before turning over to face his brother. He runs a palm through Grayson's hair-the ladies agreed to keep cutting their hair for them, despite what Grayson has done to their communities-and Grayson's thick, black eyebrows crease for a moment before smoothing out again. Miserably, Ethan thinks: Is this it? Day after day? Me eating the wildlife, Grayson hunting down innocent humans? Is this all there is? Me sewing blankets and taking strolls into the woods, Grayson carving little statues to place on the mantel over the hearth? Is this all there is? Me and him. These four walls.
Grayson is chiseling a smiling man out of wood. His knife slips delicately across the hard bark, shaping the slight ridge of a nose. He smooths his thumb against the blade's edge and pulls back a strip of bark near the throat of the man, attempting to smooth out the neckline. The slivers of wood drop down to the wooden floor between his bare feet, adding to the already growing pile. The sculpture is for Ethan. Ethan always likes when he carves something out of wood for him; he says he always does a great job, even when he doesn't. Typically, Ethan places his creations on top of the hearth's slim mantel. He always places the new one after his previous one. He thinks it's to see the progression of his skill. Grayson hears a small cough and his eyes dart towards the table. He rocks gently back on the rocking chair before settling again. The fireplace's heat chases the cold of winter raging outside, not that Grayson would even need that. He's still used to years of being out in the elements and the clothing he has on-shirt and trousers-is more than enough. He eyes the humans again.
Usually, Grayson limits himself to three humans a day. One in the morning, one at lunch time, and one at dinner. Usually. After all, he really isn't a glutton. But tonight, well, tonight is different. Tonight is different because Ethan decided to take a walk in the forest. Grayson isn't so sure how much animal prey Ethan consumes, but he's damn sure worried about what Ethan's unnatural diet may be doing to his body. Nevertheless, Ethan is not here, which means Grayson is left all alone. It's worse that he skipped lunch today. It's worse because the humans won't even look at him. They're all huddled together in the cage, pressed to the far-left side, desperate to get out from under his unsettling gaze. Grayson can't help licking his lips as his eyes wander over their scrumptious bodies. They are portlier than usual, the supple curves of fat edging around their waists, their thighs, hell, even their bloated faces. The mouthwatering fat enveloping them makes their bodies look more like sausage rolls. That is, they are nearly busting out of their clothes.
As a part of the new pact with the villages, Grayson not only asked for twenty humans every two weeks, but for rich food. Sweets. Buttery sweet potatoes and mounts of crispy fried bacon. Fluffy cakes and plumping hamburger meat. Grayson has been eating twelve every two weeks but has also been saving some back. It's a little experiment of his, to see how stupidly fat he can make them. It turns out that humans eat when stressed. Grayson isn't surprised. He likes to eat when he's stressed too. Except unlike him, they don't have a quick metabolism. With all his malicious teasing, these humans won't hesitate to stuff themselves, seeking relief in the delectable foods he provides for them, many foods these peasants have never even seen before.
Grayson can't help but stare at them in the low light of the fire. He smirks as one of the portly women glances at him, huddled against an equally appetizing man. He glances back at his carving and nicks a smile into the wood, slowly carving out the individual teeth. The near silence stretches on for a while. There's just the low, deep sound of Grayson's calm breathing, the howling wind outside, and the crackling fireplace.
"You know, I'm kind of getting lonely," he sighs dramatically. The whole group visibly finches, twitching uncomfortably at the sound of his voice. "I mean, I think I could eat."
He smirks devilishly as he gets up from the rocking chair, gently sitting the finished sculpture down in his place.
Grayson is lying on his back on the rug, staring at the ceiling. He has been lying here for close to five minutes. A human male stands beside his arm, trying very hard not to piss his pants. He's pretty sure if he did, this monster would tear him apart in retribution.
"Are you f-full?" He ventures to ask.
Grayson glances at him, like he forgot he was there. He turns over on his side, propping up on his elbow. The movement hikes up his shirt, revealing his belly.
"Aw," Grayson mocks. "You think I'm just gonna let you go?" Despite his size, Grayson can be gentle when he wants to. He lightly strokes the man's trembling chest with his pointer finger, all the way to his belly. This one is slim compared to the others he grabbed out of the cage. He's either new to the stock or has resisted the temptation of food from the get-go. Grayson doesn't care either way, really.
"P-please." The human whimpers, hands feebly grasping at the giant's fingers. "P-please don't eat me."
Grayson smirks. "Why not? You're just food." He pokes the human's stomach.
"I-I have a wife a-and kids at home."
"Mmmm," Grayson hums. "And I bet they'd taste great too."
The human blanches. Grayson laughs and rubs a hand across the smooth, hot skin of his distended belly. Underneath his palm, his preys' frantic last acts of survival play out as they push and jab at his thick stomach walls. Distantly, he wonders if his prevailing stomach acids will start working soon, and he's quickly given his answer as a burp rises from his throat.
Grayson burps into his closed fist, savoring the lingering taste of human on his tongue. He licks his lips and smirks at the terrified human staring at him, running fingers in a slow circular pattern below his belly button. Inside, the humans' scuffles become more frantic. He wonders if they can feel the sting of his stomach acid yet, if the gassy, chokingly vile air of his abdominal cavity is what they are really struggling against. But it doesn't matter. Food is food.
"Excuse me." He says to the human as he stifles another burp, feigning decency. The human swallows thickly, staring at the giant's distended stomach. Grayson rubs at a sore spot on his belly as one human inside the hot, gassy sac continuously kicks him in that one area below his navel. Usually, he'd ask Ethan to knead his belly for him, hands rubbing moderately over any particularly sore spots, to help soothe digestion. Usually if he overindulged himself like this, Ethan would have to. But Ethan has gone out again, and it looks like he's going to have to do it himself.
Grayson's eyes turn back to the human and he smiles. To another giant, the smile might seem friendly. To the petite human, the smile showcases his rows of white, monstrously large teeth. Grayson swipes his tongue over his top teeth slowly, just to see the human's eyes widen. A pang of pleasure beats against him. Fear makes them taste even better. He teases his prey, running one fingertip down his tear-stained face before pulling away.
"You know what I like most about being a pred?"
The human shakes his head. It's a sharp, quick motion.
Grayson sniffs. "Well, it's this idea that your hopes, your dreams, your aspirations, they're nothing to me. To others, you're a person, yeah?"
The human nods, contemplating playing this game with the giant instead of trying to run away and hide. He's full, that's obvious. Maybe he's full enough not to want to indulge in him.
"But to me, you're just food. Your hopes, your dreams, hell, your life, that is nothing to me. Food is just food."
The human shifts his weight from his left leg to his right and stiffens when Grayson gently touches the top of his head.
"Don't you agree?"
"Yes," the human chokes out. Grayson removes his fingers.
"Hell, it doesn't matter what you think." Grayson says absently, glancing up at the ceiling. He rolls back onto his back and kneads his tight belly with one hand. He wishes they'd stop struggling and succumb to him already. The movement is getting annoying. All he wants to do is surrender to a food coma, maybe have Ethan here to lie next to him, so he doesn't feel so lonely.
"Food doesn't get an opinion." Grayson says casually to the ceiling, like he's talking about the weather.
"Please, p-please don't eat me-" the human whimpers, starting to beg again. Grayson scowls, turning his head to the side to look at him. The human instantly shuts up, going rigid at the giant's annoyed expression.
"You know what's funny?"
The human quickly shakes his head.
Grayson scoffs, "That was a rhetorical question. What I'm saying is that it's funny because if I gave you to Ethan, he wouldn't even eat you. He'd probably start crying like a little bitch and let you go."
The human blinks, understanding that the giant is talking about his brother. He'd heard them speak to one another in the confines of this horrible cabin, but he can't remember either speaking each other's names. The only way that anyone could tell the difference between the two was that this giant had a constant ravenous look in his eyes when he'd glance over at them, while the other looked both distant and apathetic.
The giant shakes his head, exasperated. "I know Ethan likes the taste of you all." He pokes the human's belly with his fingertip. "What giant wouldn't? But he's such a masochistic bastard. He'd rather starve eating the wildlife than give into the natural order of things."
The human does not know how to respond. He had no idea that giants had complex feelings and a higher moral thought process. In the village, he had been raised to believe that every giant was a ravenous, man-eating predator, sadistic and dominating in nature, without an ounce of mercy in their bones. If what this giant was saying was true, that meant he could tell the others about his brother's leniency. Perhaps they could convince Ethan to let them go. That is, if he ever got away from this one.
Grayson fingers his stomach gently, belching into his closed fist. With his stomach so tight and full, drowsiness sets in, but the frantic movement of prey surging against his impenetrable stomach walls keeps his mind alert. That, plus the fact Ethan is not home yet. Grayson raises one thick, black eyebrow, running his other hand through his dark brown hair, as though in silent contemplation. He rests his hand back on his distended abdomen, the tight strings of muscles in his brawny bicep jumping with the motion. He belches again and the human flinches in terror, watching the skin of his belly move sharply outward here and there from the jabs of prey. How long does digestion take? Do they succumb to asphyxiation long before his body breaks down theirs for nutrients?
The man lets out a yelp as Grayson picks him up and places him on his chest. The surface is soft-that's the shirt-and surprisingly warm. He clings onto the shirt for a second before daring to kneel on his hands and knees. Grayson tilts his head down and smirks. The man shivers as he feels the giant's finger trail slowly down his back, feather light. The sound of his gurgling, glopping, contracting, squeezing prey-filled stomach is even louder when he is on his chest. The human can't help but feel the rhythmic thumpthumpthump of the giant's pounding heartbeat right under him.
"To eat or not to eat, that is the question." Grayson mocks. The man whimpers softly in fear. Grayson's smirk grows. "Do you want me to eat you?"
"N-no." He stutters.
"But food doesn't get an opinion, remember?"
The human squeezes his eyes shut. "Please." Grayson continues to tentatively stroke his back. The man thinks, if this were anyone else, the motion would be relaxing.
Grayson laughs. "Nah, I'm gonna save you for Ethan. If I can get him to eat you."
All the air rushes out of the human's lungs in relief but he still opens his eyes in case this is some twisted joke. The final punch line. The last cruel act before the giant swallows him whole. But the giant lifts him up and sits up, taking him over to the cage on the table and placing him back in before locking it back. Grayson turns around and goes back to the rug. He lies down and stretches out like a cat, his hands folded at the back of his head. Only a minute later, the door swings open. A rush of cold and small snowflakes flicker around the air before melting on the hardwood floor. Ethan walks in, snow clinging in his dark hair. His cheeks are rosy with cold and his stomach is a bit bloated beneath his shirt. So he has eaten. Good. Ethan closes the door and takes a couple steps into the cottage. He instantly catches sight of Grayson lying on the floor; he yanks off his socks and boots. He makes his way to the rug and begins to lie down beside him.
Grayson sits up and reaches for the back of Ethan's neck, drawing him close; he presses his lips against Ethan's plush mouth. Ever since Ethan could remember, he and Grayson have done this simple act of affection, of connectedness, having no prior inclination that the act would be considered taboo by human standards. Having no sense of arbitrary human rules and constraints since they are giants, Ethan usually gives in and lets Grayson kiss him, hug him, and cuddle him.
But he jerks his head back tonight. He can't help but think of the horror those lips have caused, what suffering that mouth has inflicted on the human population. Grayson's belly is extended, bloated, and Ethan can see the struggling prey bulging frantically from beneath his skin here and there. Grayson's eyes are drowsy, and he has a content, blissful expression on his face that only usually comes from stuffing himself. Pig.
"Did you overeat?" Ethan finally finds the words.
"Yeah, bro." Grayson shrugs. "I was hungry."
Ethan frowns. "How many?"
Grayson scoffs. "Does it really matter?" He lies back on the pillow, watching his brother with half-lidden eyes. When Ethan doesn't move, he reaches for his hand and taking it, presses it against his distended belly. Ethan feels the movement of prey underneath the soft, warm skin.
"Can you massage my stomach? I don't feel so well." Grayson admits. "I'm sore."
Ethan rubs his belly, letting Grayson's hand guide him. His stomach gurgles and Grayson stifles a burp. "Excuse me." Ethan kneads the tough sore spots, feeling the struggling prey underneath become more frantic.
"How many?"
Grayson sighs. "Five, I think. No, six."
Ethan scowls. "Gray."
Grayson scowls back. "What? You should be lucky I didn't eat the whole stock."
"Don't call them a stock. They're people."
Grayson doesn't feel like arguing with him. He's too content. Too full. Ethan's hands are soothing against his stomach, aiding in digestion. He tenderly rubs the skin underneath his belly button and then slips them upward over his ribcage. He can feel the prey thrashing wildly inside him, probably due to the stomach acids. When Ethan is like this, he's fully in the moment, completely concentrated on the task at hand.
"Feel better?" Ethan murmurs as he gives him a thorough belly rub.
Grayson's eyes are squeezed shut in bliss. "Yeah," he breathes. He opens his eyes as Ethan slips his hands away. "Thanks. I feel a lot better."
Ethan lies down next to him, turning over onto his side. Grayson glances at him. "Where were you?"
Ethan raises an eyebrow, "Not being a glutton like you."
"Very funny." Grayson deadpans.
"I was just walking."
Grayson lets out a breath, sleep threatening to pull him under. "That's nice."
"Yeah." Ethan breathes.
"Goodnight E." Grayson says as he succumbs to his food coma, his body going lax in sleep.
"Goodnight, Gray." Ethan whispers and pulls the blanket over them both.
