Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Conventional had never been a word Sam would use to describe himself.

First of all, he was a hunter. A job, unpaid, where he hunted down all things evil that most people didn’t even think truly existed. This had been his life since he was only a few months old, back when his mother had been murdered and her gruesome death had left a fire for revenge burning inside of John Winchester. Only once had Sam taken the chance to escape that life, but he should have expected that the family business would pull him right back in. You didn’t simply leave the supernatural; that was the way it was.

Second of all, Sam had been in love with his big brother for as long as he could remember. In fact, the memories of his childhood were only slightly sunny because Dean had been there. His presence had made Sam’s youth just a tad less traumatizing.

He knew it wasn’t right to love his brother that way; incest wasn’t exactly a thing people should be getting themselves involved with. No good things could come from it; you didn’t have to look too far into history to find several examples of what could go wrong. Sam would have never acted upon his feelings if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was certain Dean felt the same way.

Okay, jealousy would still have been a thing if Dean had chosen to be with someone else. Sam wouldn’t necessarily have liked that to happen. But as long as his big brother was happy, then Sam could at least try to be happy for him. It was Dean; that guy deserved some happiness in his life, whether that meant Sam was happy too or not. Dean’s joy would be enough for him.

Sam was just glad that Dean ended up with him.

Aside from the odd fantasy of one day getting together with his brother in some romantic movie-style dream, Sam tried to never think too much about the future. The thoughts of what could be had usually been fleeting, because what he once wanted (Stanford) hadn’t ended the way he had wanted it to. Yet, still it wasn’t much of a surprise to him when one day Dean suggested they should retire.

He just hadn’t expected Dean to be the one to suggest it.

In hindsight, Sam supposed that Dean himself may have been just as surprised, if not more, to be the one to hint at his desire for a life without hunting after so many years on the job. He had been the one who always went on and on about this being their job, about how it was the family business to save people by ending the existence of monsters. They would be doing this forever, and the only way Dean was getting out was through a blaze of glory.

Sam hadn’t ever been keen on listening to Dean talking about his seemingly preferred way of dying. It reminded him a little too much of just how suicidal this life had turned his brother, and probably himself as well.

After one more (one too many) hunt where the both of them had once again barely escaped with their limbs and lives, Dean told Sam that he thought it was about damn time they quit this whole insane hunting thing. They had given enough over the years; wasn’t dying many times over and rising from said death to get right back to fighting evil more than enough? Dean figured they should enjoy what time they had left on this Godforsaken planet. Didn’t they deserve that kind of happiness by now?

Sam didn’t need all that much convincing. Even though Dean apparently had a speech prepared that he had spent days thinking of, wanting to explain all of the reasons for why they should quit and how their efforts being rewarded was long overdue, Sam had agreed with Dean before he even explained why he wanted this.

Not hunting was something Sam had wanted ever since he realized what they did wasn’t exactly normal, so why would he say no to the possibility of quitting?

And so it happened. Without a big bang or celebration or any kind of celestial announcement or anything like that, the Winchesters retired. Quietly, unlike anything they had ever done before in their lives. They became normal.

One of their first steps was to buy a house in a small town where they had never been before and thus didn’t have a horrible reputation yet, which meant they could start fresh there. They introduced themselves as ‘The Wessons’, not wanting anyone to do any research on them and stumble across the terrible things they had been accused of. Like grave robbery, breaking and entering, murder, things like that. And when introducing themselves like that had made people once again assume that they were a couple, they didn’t even try to deny it this time, not when they also were a couple and they figured that this would make it much easier for them to be romantically close in public.

Getting a house together was an adult thing Sam never imagined he would get to do, let alone with Dean. He and his brother were the legal owners of a house. Well, as legal as it could be, lying about their last names on paper.

A two-story building on the edge of a small town, which was filled with normal people, and there was no monster in sight. There had never even been a monster anywhere near this town. Most of the time this whole thing still felt completely surreal to Sam. Even though he dreamed this one day would happen, he never thought it would end up being an actual possibility. Not even in his wildest dreams could Sam have imagined his future to end up downright superb.

Sam had thankfully managed to put his skills to use and found himself a job that paid him quite a large amount of money without him having to put in a lot of effort. There were apparently a lot of people willing to pay for information about monsters, even if they didn’t believe in their existence.

Dean’s skills were put to use to turn their house into a home, into their home.

When they first moved in, the roof of their new house had been leaking. It hadn’t been a new house after all but rather had sat dormant for over ten years, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that there were several things to be taken care of. It was however rather annoying to find out about the leak on a rainy day, but thankfully Dean was pretty great with his hands, and he easily managed to fix up the crooked roof tiles.

The man had even worked to make Sam’s dreams (because he had those now) of an open floor plan a reality. He broke down the wall between the kitchen and the living room (after checking if it was a load-bearing one of course) before expanding said kitchen.

Believe it or not, the man had added a tub in the upgraded bathroom. Only because he knew how much Sam loved soaking in hot, bubbly, soapy water. It was about time for that entire room to be modernized anyways, much like the kitchen needed an upgrade.

The new appliances that Dean installed there turned out to be very necessary and useful, especially since Sam had taken up a new hobby in which the kitchen played a very important part.

Having so much free time on their hands all of a sudden made things a little awkward for the Winchester brothers at first. Whereas Dean was busy working on their house and then relaxing more and more, Sam wasn’t sure what to do with his time off. He had spent most of his time researching for their hunts, trying to survive while also trying to keep out of the sight of the law. He never realized just how much free time normal people had. So, after trying out multiple random hobbies that had seemed interesting to him, Sam found that he enjoyed hobbies that expanded on his culinary skills.

To him, it was calming to knead dough and focus on figuring out new recipes. Working with his hands, using knives to cut up vegetables instead of skinwalkers, and tweaking recipes to make them more fitting for Dean and him- it all made Sam feel grounded. He could create the meals that he had always wanted to try: homemade pasta dough and fresh pasta sauce, cakes, ice cream, dumplings and so much more. Sam wanted to try making pretty much everything he could think of, enjoying every step of the process.

It didn’t seem that Dean minded Sam’s new hobby much either, even if Sam pretty much forced him to try out everything that he made, no matter how much Dean had already eaten before.

Speaking of Dean…

Sam turned his head to look at his brother, who was seated at their kitchen table, using a spoon to practically shovel the last few bites of ravioli into his mouth. Sam had made that pasta dough himself, filling the dough with mozzarella, which left it with an incredibly delicious and satisfying cheese pull whenever Dean took a bite. The sauce was buttery, garlicky, and cheesy, creating a soft and almost sweet-tasting dish that Dean seemed to love.

“Do you want more?”

The question had Dean looking up, his cheeks bulging with the large bite he had just taken, creamy sauce dribbling down his chin. After chewing and swallowing (and stifling a soft belch), Dean nodded his head.

“Hell yeah,” He was grinning, pushing his not even empty plate closer toward Sam. “This is really freakin’ good. You really outdid yourself this time, Sammy. Though I guess you’re constantly doing that.”

Sam may or may not have been blushing while scooping more pasta and sauce onto Dean’s plate – a hefty amount of carbs and calories, all to fill Dean up to the brim and give him that dopey, happy look that he always got when he ate until he was close to bursting.

That seemed to be happening more and more often lately, ever since they got a home together. Dean had been filled to the brim most of the time, and Sam knew that he was to blame for that. Or for most of it, what with his seemingly never-ending supply of homemade meals and snacks.

Though, what wasn’t his fault was the fact that the recipes he followed never seemed to have enough butter or heavy cream in them. That, along with cheese and other ingredients, made meals a whole lot better. Dean would most definitely agree with him on that; he might even say that there wasn’t enough cheese in his meals yet.

It also wasn’t his fault that Dean seemed to enjoy the food Sam made even more when those delicious yet unhealthy ingredients were added.

However, even before Sam had started adding more and more butter, Dean was gobbling up those meals greedily. No matter how much he had already eaten before, Dean seemed to always be willing to eat more of whatever Sam made. And that certainly showed on his figure.

Dean had never exactly been svelte. Whereas Sam kept up with his daily workout regimen even after their retirement to make sure that he stayed in shape, Dean had decided that retirement was equal to not doing much at all and instead a reason to take the time to enjoy himself. Which Sam wasn’t saying no to. Dean deserved to relax, and he never had enjoyed working out anyways. Sam was kind of sick of the complaining about how sore Dean was pretty much every single day, and this seemed like a way to give himself a break on that part as well.

Why would Sam force his brother to continue working out if Dean didn’t enjoy doing it?

Besides, it wasn’t like this new lifestyle was doing anything bad to Dean’s figure. Because it was definitely doing things to Dean’s body, none of which had gone unnoticed by his little brother. He would have to be blind not to notice those changes.

Another belch, louder this time, snapped Sam out of his thoughts. He swallowed as a hot shiver ran through his body, eyes locked on Dean as the man leaned back in his creaking seat, thighs spreading wider. Now that Sam was looking at it, he noticed that Dean’s belly was resting on those spread thighs.

It wasn’t much of a shock that it was doing that; Dean had been rounding out rather rapidly over the past few months due to Sam’s cooking. The fact that he didn’t move around nearly as much as he used to and, in fact, seemed to be making an effort to move around as little as he possibly could wasn’t exactly helping him stay at least somewhat in shape.

To put it simply, Dean was gaining weight, and he was doing so rapidly.

And Sam didn’t mind it at all.

“Are you going to keep on starin’ or are you gonna get that pie out of the oven before it burns to a crisp?” Dean asked, licking pasta sauce from his fingers. He never had the best manners when it came to eating, but lately it seemed like all he wanted was to get the food into his mouth as quickly as possible. Whether that meant he would get dirty or not didn’t seem to matter to Dean in the slightest. “The thing is beeping pretty loud, dude.”

“Sorry, didn’t hear it go off. Must’ve been distracted.” Sam put down the empty pan he had been holding in the sink, leaning down to open the oven. Steam, smelling like cinnamon and syrup, hit Sam in the face as he pulled out a deliciously sugary apple pie.

This had to be one of the best ones he had ever made, which Sam supposed had a lot to do with the insanely huge amount of sugar and butter he had put in this pie. But in the end, Dean was going to be the judge of it. If he didn’t enjoy it, Sam had to tweak the recipe again until it was perfect. Only the best for his big brother.

“You want ice cream with it?”

Sam grabbed a knife, digging it into the pie to cut a large slice, knowing from experience that this way it would cool off quicker and Dean would be able to eat it sooner. Dean still wasn’t a patient man, after all. Not even when he now had much more time on his hands.

“What kind of question is that? Of course I want ice cream with it.” Dean snorted, causing Sam to chuckle. He had taken to serving all of Dean’s pies with ice cream, which gave him an excuse to make more and more of the frozen treat. “And don’t you dare give me that store-bought crap I know you still keep in there. I want yours, with the heavy cream in it. Nothing’s better than that.”

Sam couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips, cheeks flushing with pride. His big brother liked his food more than any store-bought brand, which was pretty damn amazing. He had never felt like he excelled at anything, not until now. Cooking and baking was something he was actually pretty great at, judging by the way Dean moaned as he ate whatever Sam made. Sam put the large slice of pie on a plate, putting quite a bit of ice cream along with it before putting it on the table in front of Dean.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Dean’s stubbled cheek. “You haven’t shaved.” Sam noted, reaching to clean up some of the mess around Dean. Mostly empty plates and empty beer bottles, all of the contents now inside of Dean’s stomach. Once Dean was done eating his dessert, Sam would make sure that the kitchen would be spotless once again. Dean would sit himself down in front of the TV to watch some show or take a nap, and Sam would clean up.

Honestly, Sam found himself quite enjoying playing housewife. It made his life feel domestic, right, safe. Normal or conventional would never be words to describe their lives, but that was fine with Sam. He could create his own normal with Dean, because his brother was all he needed in life.

“I haven’t, no.” Dean shrugged. “Do I need to shave?”

Sam paused, staring at his brother for only a moment before shaking his head. “No, I like it. You look sexy like this.”

“Don’t I always?” Dean teased, making Sam snort.

“Obviously, big guy.” Sam rubbed his hand over Dean’s chest, a great excuse to feel up his softening chest. Muscles were wasting away, turning into soft peaks. Ones that Sam wanted to cup his hands over, feeling exactly how Dean’s body was changing.

God, why was this turning Sam on so much? It shouldn’t, because it was such an odd thing to get aroused by, but it did. Dean just seemed to be getting hotter and more attractive every single day, which didn’t make much sense. At the same time, Sam knew that a lot of things in their lives never made sense. So why would any of this?

Dean leaned up for another kiss, which Sam gladly provided him with, before pulling back just in time to let out a belch. “Shit, sorry Sammy.”

Sam shook his head, gently stroking his fingers through Dean’s unkempt hair. “Don’t be.” He gave Dean’s bloated belly a pat before he stepped away. “Now eat up before all of the ice cream melts, okay? And let me know what you think about it. I’ve tweaked the recipe again, so I want to know what you think of it.”

Dean reached forward to grab the plate, letting out happy moans and groans when he started to eat the pie. Sam smiled to himself, watching his big brother. This was perfect; he couldn’t imagine life to be any better than this. And yet he couldn’t wait to see what their life would be like in a few months…

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Dean frowned slightly as he eyed himself in the full-length mirror. He wasn’t able to button his jeans, even though they were the newest pair he owned. Dean had made Sam go out to purchase them two weeks ago. They were supposed to fit if he had been able to fit into them not so long ago, right? How were they already too tight for them to button up?

His green eyes took note of the rounded-out stomach, the rather obvious cause of Dean’s struggles.

Scrunching up his nose, cheeks flushing, Dean figured that only he was to blame for the pants not being able to fit him anymore. After all, he was the one who ate this much. He was the one who caused his belly to round out more and more, even starting to sag under its own weight, dark stretchmarks forming on the pale and freckled skin.

Most people would take this as the reason to lose weight, a sign to start working out again and get back in shape. However, Dean’s mind didn’t even go there. All this was to him was a reminder to himself to send Sam to the store to buy sweatpants instead of jeans. Those didn’t have buttons, and they were stretchy, which seemed like the perfect solution to all of Dean’s newfound problems.

He wouldn’t be able to grow out of those- or at least not this fast. Problem solved, right?

Dean didn’t even see it as a problem. Not right now. Not when Sam hadn’t even mentioned Dean’s weight gain, even though it was so very obvious. You couldn’t convince Dean that Sam hadn’t noticed it, not when Sam had been a hunter too. They had been trained to notice things that were barely noticeable, and Dean’s added weight was not barely noticeable. Even Dean himself could admit that.

Honestly, he couldn’t fully be blamed. Dean was bound to gain some weight after retiring. Going from working out on a daily basis and having the constant stress of nearly dying to not moving around much at all wasn’t great for his shape. Dean was relaxing, taking it easy. Sam even told him to do so; why wouldn’t Dean have gained weight with this new lifestyle?

Ah, well, some might not be the right way to describe it at this point. It was an understatement, to say the least.

Dean looked at himself again, at the reflection in the mirror. At the once-pecs that had turned into soft peaks, his used-to-be-abs were now a belly that stuck out in front of him. As Dean rubbed his fingers over it, he noted that it was soft and flabby, drooping over the waistband of his jeans. It jiggled when he moved his hand up and down, giving the softness a squeeze.

Sam hadn’t mentioned any of this, hadn’t told Dean anything about the weight he had gained. That either meant he had not yet noticed it (which was, again, highly unlikely) or that he didn’t mind it. And if Sam didn’t mind it, then why would Dean? He had only ever cared about Sam, and if Sam truly hated his newfound flab, then Dean would change.

But honestly… It seemed like quite a lot of effort to go on a diet, and the thought of working out again sounded exhausting to Dean. He enjoyed not going much at all, spending his days relaxing and eating the delicious meals his brother made for him. And it wasn’t like he was that big; he had seen a lot of people that were way fatter than he was.

He could do with a shower, though.

Dean sniffed his armpit, grimacing. It had been a day or two (he had gotten a little too busy with eating and Sam’s attention), but he should really go ahead and wash up. And he should shave off his beard; it was about damn time. And he should ask why Sam was running behind with the laundry- specifically Dean’s laundry. He couldn’t find clean boxers anywhere.

“Dean, breakfast is ready!” Sam called out, making Dean turn his head toward the opened bedroom door. “You better be getting down here; I don’t want any of this going cold!”

With a loud growl from his stomach, Dean tugged down his shirt and licked his lips. Breakfast was one of Dean’s favorite meals of the day; Sam made the best breakfasts. And ever since Sam had started making pies for breakfast, life just couldn’t seem to be able to get any better.

He knew there would be bacon, but Dean was also hoping for those breakfast burgers Sam had made first a few days ago.

Thoughts about shaving and showering long forgotten, Dean exited the bedroom to walk toward the kitchen instead. Breakfast was an important start to the day, and Dean knew he had a large amount of food waiting for him. And Sam sure wasn’t going to like it if he did let things get cold, so he better get started eating soon…

Chapter Text

The list Sam had written for the trip to the grocery store had been rather long, much unlike when they first moved into this town. Or even before that, when they only bought what was absolutely necessary for their survival.

However, now there were more items on the list for Sam to buy than he ever would have bought in a month. Which made sense, since Dean had started eating more and seemed to be more and more hungry with every passing day. Sam figured that he was partially to blame for that; one did not simply eat growing meals without their appetite also growing.

He knew enough about the workings of the human body to know the basics on how to make it gain weight. There was a certain amount of calories someone needed simply to stay alive on the daily, and going over that would make you gain weight; it was truly as simple as that. The more often you went over that necessary amount, the more likely it would be for you to gain weight. The more calories you ate on top of the necessary amount, the more weight you would gain.

And Dean was eating at least a few thousand over the necessary daily limit, courtesy of Sam’s home-cooked meals to which he added so many unnecessary extra calories.

Sweet or savory- Dean didn’t seem to have much of a preference anymore. At least that’s what Sam figured, listening to the noises Dean made while he ate. Moans, groans, all kinds of sounds of pleasure came from those plump lips. The same noises he would make whenever he was balls deep in Sam’s ass. Clearly Dean enjoyed whatever Sam made him; if the weight gain wasn’t enough of a hint for Sam, then the noises sure would be.

It took Sam several minutes to put all of the beer he had bought in their garage. After that he had to take several trips back and forth to get all of the many bags inside of the kitchen. But it was worth the effort it took because all of these ingredients would be used to fill his brother’s beautiful gut and get it all nice and round and bloated. Which would be an incredible sight, one that Sam loved to see every single day.

Besides, it was a nice workout for Sam, who seemed to slowly get more muscular himself by all the weights he carried and all the walking he did. He did try to stay in shape; he liked his own body the way it was. The newly added muscle mass was definitely not a bad thing, though.

He wasn’t the only one who was growing, though. Ever since their retirement it seemed that Dean couldn’t stop getting larger. Day by day he got bigger, growing wider and rounder and heavier.

Sam enjoyed it, more than he probably should, but damn it, he couldn’t help himself. Dean was somehow getting more attractive to him with every single pound he put on that already gorgeous body.

Like said before; Sam had never thought he was conventional. Nothing about him was. Apparently not even what got him aroused was conventional. And Sam wasn’t going to take even a moment to feel ashamed or bad about that because, honestly? He couldn’t give a crap about what other people thought of him anymore.

“Hosting a party?”

Sam smiled at his neighbor, polite and sweet, like the normal person he now was. He didn’t have to suspect her of possibly being a monster; he didn’t have to wonder whether or not she was out to kill him, and that really was an improvement on his old life. Sure, he still slept with a gun underneath his pillow, and he was never without a weapon in general, but he didn’t feel as on edge anymore.

“Hey, Jane.” He greeted her, taking the last bag from the car before closing her trunk. “No party. Just me who can’t seem to stop cooking and baking.”

“Must be cooking a lot with all of those bags I seen you carry in there just now.” Jane chuckled, leaning on the rake she was using in her front yard.

“Yeah, luckily Dean doesn’t seem to mind. And whatever we don’t eat, I’ll bring to people who can use some extra meals.” It was a lie, but that didn’t matter much to Sam. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever lied before, now, had he? And no one needed to know that all of this was for Dean to eat. While Sam may not care about what people thought of what they did together, he also didn’t need unwanted attention on them. Who knows what people would try to find online?

Jane cooed. “Oh, how sweet of you to do that.” She glanced at the house. “How is Dean doing these days? I haven’t seen him around in a while.”

“Yeah,” Sam licked his lips, having known that questions like these were going to come at some point. To the entire town, they were a married couple. And while they had been seen outside together a lot, lately Dean had spent most of his time inside of their house. People were going to start wondering why Dean wasn’t seen with Sam anymore. “Dean has very sensitive skin. He’s never done well with the sun, but lately it’s just gotten worse. Besides, he works from home, so that’s even more reason to stay inside. He’s doing better now that he’s not going out as much anymore.”

“Oh dear, that’s awful!” Jane gasped, eyes wide as if this was the most shocking thing she had ever heard. “I have a friend; she has a cousin with a boyfriend who has an uncle with sensitive skin. I can ask if there are any tips for skincare.”

Sam gave her another polite smile, nodding his head. “That would be nice, Jane, thank you.” He glanced at the watch he was wearing around his wrist, noting that it was about time to get started on Dean’s lunch. “I have to go now, though; Dean’s going to get hungry soon. Great catching up with you; see you around, Jane.”

The youngest Winchester quickly entered his house, putting the last bags in the kitchen before he grabbed one of the bags, the one with takeout from the McDonalds in their town. He couldn’t let Dean go hungry while he prepared lunch, after all.

“Honey, I’m home!” Sam sing-songed as he walked over to the living room, knowing that Dean would’ve heard him walk around by now. He probably already had heard the loud noise of the Impala’s engine anyways, being so in tune with that sound. Though Dean hadn’t been in the car for a while anymore himself, now that Sam was thinking about it.

Part of him wondered if Dean would even fit behind the steering wheel at this point, with that big gut of his.

This new life was everything Sam had ever hoped for, even though he had spent many years suppressing those hopes and dreams. He hadn’t ever indulged in those thoughts because he didn’t think they would ever come true; it could only hurt his own feelings to think of them. He had never imagined that this could actually come true.

He had always wanted to have some semblance of normalcy; it was why he had left for Stanford in the first place. His family wasn’t normal, and if he stayed with his father and brother, he would never have what he wanted way deep down inside of him.

People could argue that what he had now wasn’t anywhere near being normal, seeing as that he was in a relationship with his own brother and Dean… Well, Dean didn’t currently do much more than eat, masturbate, and sleep.

For most people that would probably be a dealbreaker; however, for Sam it was perfect. He thought this was better than anything he could ever have; this was everything he could have ever wanted, and he hadn’t ever even known that he wanted this. It was something that he found out along the way, and now he didn’t want to have anything else anymore.

“Took you long enough,” Came the deep, grumbly, and grumpy voice of Sam’s brother from the direction of the couch. “Did you get anything to eat?”

Sam snorted. “Like I’d forget the most important thing.”

“Ah, no, that’d be you.” Dean pointed out. “Food’s a close second though.”

With a smile, Sam leaned down to press a kiss to Dean’s lips. “I picked up something for you at McDonald’s. Figured you’d be hungry while you’d have to wait for your lunch.”

“Ah, pre-lunch, awesome.” Dean grinned, taking the bag from Sam’s hands and putting it on the couch next to him. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Dean was seated on the couch like he was pretty much every moment of every day now, aside from the moments that he was sleeping in their bed. His legs were spread wide, his gut resting in his lap, the soft bottom of it sagging slightly between his thick thighs.

Sam remembered nearly coming in his pants like a teenager when he noticed that Dean’s belly rested in his lap, that it was big enough to do so. He had let Dean fuck him three times before his brain could focus on anything other than the fact that Dean was getting fatter. Gaining weight so rapidly that his skin could barely keep up, stretch marks forming on pale skin.

There were already a few empty plates next to Dean, which Sam knew had been filled with cookies, brownies, and other pastries before he had left for the grocery store. He could barely bite back a smile at the sight of just how insatiable his big brother had gotten these days; Dean never seemed to be able to get full anymore. And even when he was full, he still seemed to want more.

“What are you makin’ for lunch?”

As if Dean was starving, as if he wasn’t already unwrapping a burger that he had pulled from the McDonald’s bag. The paper rustled as Dean took a large bite, sauce dripping into his beard where it remained, his brother apparently not caring about cleaning it.

It wasn’t like Dean had been clean before the sauce spill.

Sam eyed his man like he was a piece of candy. Like Dean was the hottest thing Sam had ever seen. Which he was, so the look Sam gave his brother was accurate.

Dean looked like… a slob. There was no other way to describe the way Dean looked at that moment, the way he had looked for days now. And it wasn’t a bad thing at all, not to Sam. Oh God no, it was perfect. It was exactly what Dean should look like.

There was something about the way Dean looked, about the way he acted, that made him the epitome of manliness and masculinity to Sam. Something about the slob his brother was becoming made Sam feel safe, protected, and even like he was loved. More so than he ever had been.

It may not make sense; Sam didn’t even really understand it himself, but that didn’t matter much. He had stopped trying to understand everything when he retired from hunting. He knew that not a lot on this planet made sense, and Sam didn’t want to put in the effort to make it make sense.

Seated on the couch, watching TV, Dean munched on his burger and his fries. He was watching some show, the loud voice droning on about cars and other things that Sam couldn’t care less about. He only cared about his brother and how attractive he currently was.

Dean was only wearing a shirt, the same one he had been wearing for at least three days by now. Judging by the stains covering the front, it should have been thrown in the laundry long ago. Or maybe by this point it couldn’t be saved anymore. Yet Dean was still wearing it, stains and all. It seemed ready to be retired anyways, with the way it strained around Dean’s middle, riding up and showing off the bottom half of his gut. The fabric even seemed too tight around his arms and his chest; soft mounds of fat pressed against the material.

Other than his shirt, Dean was wearing one single sock and a pair of boxers. Sam could barely see the latter; Dean’s belly had started sagging so much into his lap that it was starting to hide that particular item of clothing. Soon enough Dean wouldn’t even need to wear any underwear; his own gut would give him enough modesty by drooping down to cover his entire dick.

Sam couldn’t wait for that moment. That would definitely cause him to come in his pants like a teenager.

Dean had well and truly crossed the line from chubby into fat, and it was showing everywhere on his body. Even on his face, which now sported a large double chin. Although the beard did hide that very fact, it was still rather easily seen that he no longer was the in-shape and muscular hunter that he used to be. All of those muscles had been replaced with fat, jiggly and soft and incredibly delicious.

Perfect, that was the best word for it.

“Hey, Sammy? You’re kind of staring, weirdo.” Dean snapped Sam out of his thoughts with his words. “Do I have something on my face?”

Of course Dean had something on his face, which wasn’t much of a surprise with the way he was eating. He really didn’t have any manners anymore. “No, it’s nothing. I just like staring at you.” Sam smiled sweetly, and even though Dean rolled his eyes, Sam knew that his man loved his words. “I’m making tacos.”

Dean’s face lit up at that. “With extra cheese?”

“You really think I’d forget something like that?” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “I know what you like, Dean. Extra cheese, extra beans, extra sour cream. Don’t worry, I know how to take care of you.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Dean’s softening and hairy cheek before he straightened himself again. “Alright, you eat up. There’s a coke in there too to hold you over till I get you a beer.”

Dean grunted, his green eyes already focused on the TV in front of him, one hand digging deep in the bag of McDonald’s while the other continued stuffing bites of burger into his mouth.

Perfect. Dean was absolutely perfect.

Sam made his way over to the kitchen, his entire body filled with warmth and happiness. He was thrilled with what his brother was turning into as he started making him his lunch.

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Dean wasn’t stupid; he had long since figured something was up with his brother. It wasn’t all that hard to deduce after all; you really didn’t have to be a genius to do so.

The weight gain had been obvious from the start. After the first five or ten pounds, he already noticed that his pants were tighter and that his shirts didn’t fit as comfortably. During his life he had been trained to be as much in tune with his body as he could be, a way to not bring himself into any more danger in hunts. He knew his body, and he knew when it wasn’t the same anymore when he gained some weight.

His clothes not fitting anymore was also a pretty good indicator of the changes that were happening.

Gaining weight wasn’t really a surprise to Dean, seeing as quitting a very active lifestyle and replacing it with a lifestyle where he mostly sat around wouldn’t do his body shape any good. But he had also figured that at some point Sam would mention it and put Dean on a diet. Maybe Dean relied on that moment, allowing himself to lay back and eat whatever he wanted until Sam forced it to come to a stop.

While he had never been able to gain much weight as a hunter, Dean had never been against the idea. Or maybe he hadn’t ever thought of it much, though he hadn’t ever felt any disgust toward fat people. And now that he was the one who was gaining, he couldn’t bring himself to mind it. He felt like he wasn’t fully to be blamed anyways, seeing as Sam was the one doing the cooking and the baking and pushing all of that toward Dean for him to eat.

The realization that it almost seemed like Sam was trying to make Dean gain more weight hit him like a bag of bricks.

In hindsight all of the obvious signs had been there: Sam not talking about Dean’s changing body but rather buying him new clothes without saying anything, Sam continuously making him increasingly large batches of cookies and other pastries, and Sam picking up takeout so Dean could eat something while waiting for Sam to finish making his official meal- it had all been very obvious when Dean thought about it.

But it wasn’t like anyone’s mind would go there. No one would think that their partner was fattening them up. It wasn’t like that was something Dean ever thought his health nut of a brother would be capable of doing.

Maybe their lives as hunters had fucked the both of them up in ways that they didn’t even think were possible. They had never been normal, and now they were brothers in a romantic relationship. Adding a taboo kink on top of that wouldn’t make that any worse than it already was now, would it? Especially not since it was very consensual.

Dean sucked the sauce off his fingers before rubbing them dry on his shirt, letting out a loud belch, his belly bloated with gas from his coke and the unhealthy breakfast and pre-lunch that he had eaten.

The much more surprising thing to Dean (yeah, even more so than Sam liking him fat) was that Sam didn’t seem to mind his brother being a bit more… unkempt. Which was a rather nice way of putting it.

Sam had always been particular about his appearance. He worked out, kept himself in shape, and didn’t enjoy being dirty. He always had several bottles of soap and shampoo and whatnot to take care of himself. Which Dean had never understood, but he let Sam do whatever the guy wanted to do. If it made Sam happy, then Dean was happy.

Yet Sam didn’t seem to mind it at all that Dean stopped shaving himself, or that he let out the occasional fart or belch, or that he hadn’t showered for a few days in a row by now.

In fact, their sex life seemed to be getting better and better lately.

So, Dean had set out to do a bit of an experiment to understand where Sam was at with this new kink thing that they had going on.

Over the past week, Dean hadn’t taken very great care of himself. He hadn’t changed his outfit, had even stopped wearing pants at all, and stopped caring about the fact that he was now missing a sock. He couldn’t remember when or where he had lost that sock in the first place. And Dean had gone even further; he hadn’t pulled on a clean pair of boxers, hadn’t showered, and hadn’t put on any deodorant either.

There was no thought in his mind that told him this would last long anyways. Dean figured that Sam was going to comment on him soon enough, after a day or two at most. He’d tell Dean that he smelled and needed a shower, but yet nothing like that happened.

Here Dean was: on day seven. Smelling pretty damn bad, like sweat and whatever other body odors that had collected on him.

And yet Sam hadn’t even mentioned anything about his slobby appearance and had in fact been around Dean more than usual. Sucking him off multiple times a day, cuddling close enough that he was almost inside of Dean, kissing him more and more, and just generally loving on Dean more than Sam ever had done before.

Now, Dean didn’t want to jump to conclusions because he didn’t particularly enjoy jumping, but he was going to do so anyways and say that Sam liked him like this. Dirty. Gross. Slobby. And honestly? Dean was more than okay with that. He enjoyed being dirty; he didn’t mind not showering and just letting himself go like this. And since Sam didn’t mind either, there was no reason for Dean to change himself.

“Here you go, big guy, your tacos.” Sam was holding a large plate, tacos stacked on top of it. “And your beer.”

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean breathed out, grabbing the plate and resting it on top of his belly. Yeah, he discovered that he could do that earlier that day. When he ate enough and became bloated with gas, his belly was large enough to have a plate steady on top of it.

And seeing Sam’s reaction to it, those flushed cheeks and the seemingly sudden dry mouth, made it all the more clear to Dean that this was doing it for his little brother. Him getting fat and acting like a slob was apparently Sam’s wet dream.

“Are you ever gonna admit to it?” Dean asked, grabbing the first taco and taking a large bite, beans and sour cream spilling from said taco.

Sam blinked, confused, looking at his brother. “Admit? To what?”

Dean didn’t put in the effort to resist rolling his eyes. “To fattening me up, dude.”

Sam’s face turned pale for just a moment before it flushed a dark red, and he started stammering, eyes everywhere but on Dean. “What? No, no, I didn’t- it wasn’t- I didn’t mean to- I-“

For as much as Dean enjoyed seeing Sam flustered like this, he didn’t think torturing him for any longer was really all that fair. After all, Dean liked what was happening to him as well. So why blame Sam for it? “Oh come on, Sammy, it’s not like it hasn’t been obvious. Sure, it took me a while to figure out what was going on, but it wasn’t exactly hard to see after that.”

He paused for a moment to belch, finishing his first taco and automatically reaching out for another.

“I’ve gotten fat, Sammy, and it’s not one hundred percent my own fault.”

Sam was silent for a few moments before speaking up. “Dean, I’m sorry.” He quietly said, looking absolutely miserable with those big puppy eyes of his. “I can start cooking healthy again, support you through a diet and weight loss, and-“

“When did I say I’d want that?” Dean interrupted Sam again, raising a brow at him. “I’m just asking you if you’re ever going to admit to doing this. I’m not telling you to stop doing what you’re doing.”

“You’re not?” Sam seemed surprised now, his eyes wide and filling with hope, probably wondering if Dean could be feeling the same way about this as he was.

Dean shrugged. “I’m doin’ great this way, you know? And you’re clearly enjoying it too, so I don’t see anything wrong with this.”

Sam blinked again, biting his lip before starting to smile. A careful, small smile. Still afraid that perhaps Dean was only messing with him. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.” Dean took a bite of his next taco, chewing loudly before swallowing. “Are you gonna get on your knees yet? Cause I’m going to need some encouragement to get through this meal. I already ate way too much, and I can’t waste any of these tacos, can I?”

His little brother couldn’t possibly look any happier than he was now, a huge smile on his face as he dropped to his knees. “Don’t worry, De, I’ll make sure you can eat everything and get even bigger for me.”

Dean had no doubt about that. He knew that this was the start of an even more rapid and slobby kind of gain. And honestly? He couldn’t wait for it.

Chapter Text

In the end of it all, Sam couldn’t remember why he had been so afraid of confessing his kink to his brother.

He had been terrified of judgment, worried that perhaps Dean would laugh at him or make fun of him in any other way. However, that was something Sam could still live with. It wasn’t all that bad; they had made fun of each other many more times before. They were brothers after all; making fun of each other was something siblings did.

If Dean wanted to lose all of the weight and get back in shape, go back to his old self, then Sam would help him. Sam could live with that, too. No matter how much Sam enjoyed Dean this way, he wasn’t nearly selfish enough to force Dean to stay a way he didn’t want to be. He couldn’t allow his brother to feel bad about himself in any way, to feel bad in his own skin, not more than Dean already did. If Dean wanted to change, Sam would help him.

What he couldn’t live with was the possibility of Dean thinking of him as disgusting after his confession. The worst thing that could have happened was Dean leaving him. Sam may not exactly need many people around him in his life; he was fine without family or friends, but he did need his brother. Not having Dean in his life was Sam’s absolute worst nightmare.

He would much rather end up in the cage with Lucifer again than know that Dean left him because he thought of Sam as sickening. Dean needed to stay by his side; otherwise, there was no reason for Sam to stay on this planet as a living, breathing being.

Thinking about it, Sam supposed that what he had been terrified of was Dean’s judgment, all because he had no clue whether it would be good or bad. The kink he had, the body type and behavior that he was attracted to, wasn’t exactly shared by many people out there in the world. Sam knew that it was highly unlikely that his own brother would share the same. It would be far too coincidental, would it not?

Sam had always been a nerd and always would be. Being as such, Sam had done research on the things he was attracted to in Dean. He needed to know if there were other people like him, if there was an explanation or reason for this attraction. Eventually he met people online who enjoyed it too, but never had they seemed to live anywhere near his town. They were few and far between, and most seemed ashamed to talk about it outside of the online world.

All of that was okay, though. Sam wasn’t exactly looking to meet any kink-sharing friends or anything such as that, but at the same time it was nice to know there were real people sharing the same odd attraction.

Within the small group of people he connected with online, none of them had ever truly asked their partner to go full slob. They had not confided in their partner about their likes because they all figured that this wasn’t exactly a normal thing. Asking your partner to basically become a pig wasn’t exactly a green flag in a relationship.

It had been all the more reason for Sam to not tell Dean about any of this and to just enjoy what was naturally happening to his brother when Sam started cooking and baking more and more. Sneakily making his brother gain weight wasn’t something that would land him in heaven, but Sam hadn’t been able to resist doing so.

While during his life as a hunter, Sam had never seemed to be able to get what truly could make him happy (aside from Dean, of course); now his luck seemed to have turned. Dean’s weight gain and Sam’s eventual, slightly shameful, kink confession turned out better than Sam could have ever wished for. Everything he had been worried about was in the past now, and the two brothers were content. They were doing great, better than ever. Stronger together than ever.

Apparently such things as coincidences did exist. After all, the brothers shared their slightly immoral kink, and whether that had a familial reason or if that too was just a coincidence didn’t matter to Sam. He wasn’t sure if something about their traumatizing hunting lives had anything to do with it, and he didn’t want to dive into that either. They were happy now, and nothing aside from that should matter to either of them. It wasn’t always a necessity to have reasons for everything.

Sam flipped over the pancake, whistling a soft tune as he checked if it was done. It had a nice light brown touch to both sides by now. Satisfied with it, Sam let the last one slide on top of the large stack of pancakes that were already waiting to be eaten. Chocolate chip, with extra chocolate chips, just the way Dean liked them. With whipped cream, of course. And perhaps a bit of ice cream on the side.

No fruits, not like Sam had on his already prepared plate. Dean didn’t eat fruits or vegetables anymore. The only reason why there were any in the house was because Sam did still tend to eat healthily.

While Dean did eat a lot of different food, he seemed to have his preferences. Like the extra greasy bacon and sausages he had every morning. Dean would only eat his hash browns with cheese and garlic butter, had to have his donuts dipped in either melting ice cream or heavy cream, and loved to eat his fries extra salty. So yeah, Dean had his preferences. And Sam indulged them, because he did enjoy watching Dean eat whatever he wanted to eat.

And Dean’s preferences were doing wonders on his waistline, too. So Sam wasn’t going to protest nor try to change anything about this.

The serving cart was a new addition to the home. Sam might have first felt like a damn butler using it, but at the same time he was doing it for his own back. After all, carrying all of those plates stacked with food to the bedroom multiple times every day wasn’t exactly great on his back.

Dean did eat a lot of food. A lot.

This wasn’t a bad thing at all; it was exactly what Sam wanted his brother to do. By eating as much as Dean did, his tummy was always full and growing. That was what should be happening.

But, since Dean didn’t move from the bed unless he absolutely had to, it was a bit tiring for Sam to continuously move all of that food over to his brother. Of course Sam did it happily because it was for his brother, but he did want to be careful with his back. He was going to have to do this for many more years to come, so he needed to take care of himself too. Hence the serving cart, which was an incredible invention and an absolute necessity for Sam to be able to stack plates of food on it and bring it over to Dean. That way he could sit back, relax, and watch Dean gobble it all up.

“Good morning, big guy.” Sam practically purred, letting go of the cart after parking it next to the bed and leaning down to press a soft kiss to Dean’s chapped lips. The older male groaned as he was awoken, eyes fluttering open slowly. “Hey there, sleepyhead, I’ve got breakfast ready.”

Dean yawned, reaching up to scratch at his thick beard, several gray hairs peeking through. He gave another grunt, hand pushing into the multiple empty bags of potato chips Dean had eaten for his midnight snack. No one really got full on those, which made them the perfect way to get some extra calories in. And Sam had found that Dean enjoyed having an entire bottle of ranch poured into the bag before he ate the chips.

Even though Dean’s midnight snack would count for enough calories for the rest of the entire day, the man always woke up like he was starving. At least he made it seem like that with the way he dug into his breakfast like a pig.

Bacon and sausages first; Sam knew that from experience. Dean liked them most when they were warm, though he would still eat them if they weren’t. While he had his preferences, Dean also wasn’t all that picky at the same time when it came to the food Sam made. But Sam wanted Dean to live a hedonistic life; he wanted Dean’s days to be filled with pleasure. And if that meant keeping those sausages and bacon warm, then so be it.

The jelly donuts and everything else could wait for a bit longer. With the rate Dean ate at, they wouldn’t have to hang on for long anyways before he would munch on them.

“Mornin’ Sammy.” Dean’s sleep-laced voice spoke up, hand rubbing at his eyes. “Something smells incredible.”

Sam couldn’t help but smirk a little at that, his fingers running through Dean’s greasy hair. “I know something else that smells incredible.” He flirted teasingly, winking at his brother, who rolled his eyes in amusement, knowing just how much Sam loved his brother dirty like this. “How long has it been since you took a shower?”

Dean shrugged, grunting (again) as he started pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Dunno. A few days? A week, maybe?”

The blanket fell from Dean’s upper body, sliding down his gut, showing off just how much weight Dean had gained since they discovered their mutual attraction to this kink. Because, oh dear, he had put on a lot of pounds.

Dean had a proper double chin now, though the beard he had been growing covered it entirely. While the man had always been clean-shaven before, Sam now had discovered just how great it felt between his thighs whenever he would ride his brother’s face. That beard, along with the longer, greasy hair that Dean was sporting, made Dean look like a very attractive (and fat) lumberjack.

His once perfectly flat chest had formed into two mounds of fat that Dean liked to call ‘moobs’. They were soft, fatty, and sagging down on top of his gut. Said gut was a bloated ball, always full of gas and, more importantly, food. Covered in many stretch marks, the pale skin was usually tinted red when he got himself all filled up with calories.

Sam absolutely loved touching that belly, loved rubbing it and massaging it. He enjoyed how it was soft, yet hard if he pressed down enough. That specific action always caused Dean to let out some gas from either or both ends, which only made Sam do it more often.

A line of coarse hair led down from his belly button to his groin. That part of Dean’s thick body wasn’t even visible anymore, covered instead by his sagging belly. Whenever he sat (which was almost all of the time because Dean hated standing), Dean’s belly covered half of his thick thighs by now. Whenever he did stand, which Dean tried not to do, it pulled on Dean’s back and forced him to waddle around.

He was truly sexier to Sam than he ever had been. Lazy, out of shape, and very fat. He couldn’t possibly get any hotter.

Sam chuckled. “You know, I think weeks would be a better guess, De.” He handed his brother the plate of sausages and bacon, shiny with grease. Dean didn’t waste any time to dig in, using his hands to bring sausages and slices of bacon to his mouth.

Cutlery had stopped being something Dean used, telling Sam that it was a waste of his energy to cut things up and think about his manners. And once again, Sam didn’t bother with telling Dean that he needed to try and stay clean. Everything about Dean was hot as fuck right now anyways, even him eating like a damn pig. Or maybe especially him eating like a damn pig.

The younger Winchester sat down on the bed next to his brother, breathing in his increasingly musky scent. The body odor that came from his brother was almost intoxicating, a mix of sweat and gas and whatever else was going on that had Sam hard in an instant.

Sam reached to grab his mug of coffee, taking sips from it while replacing Dean’s empty plate with a full one whenever he needed to. This was their new morning routine. In fact, most of their time was spent in their bedroom by now, and Sam was really glad that he had made Dean knock down the wall between two bedrooms to make one very large way back when Dean could still do things like that. The large windows that Dean had installed made it possible for Dean to get some fresh air whenever he wanted to; all Sam had to do was open them.

It was the perfect place for Dean to be comfortable, especially after Sam had moved their TV into the room. Sam wouldn’t have to move from it ever again.

“De?”

Dean looked up, jelly from the donuts he had been eating stuck in his beard. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” Sam smiled, leaning in to kiss his brother’s hairy and chubby cheek. “My big, strong man.”

Dean grinned at that, swallowing his bite and releasing a loud fart. “I love you too, Sammy.”

_________________________________

Dean let out loud grunts of effort as he tried to move. He had barely moved an inch, and yet he was already exhausted, huffing and puffing and only managing to get himself into a seated position. To do so, he had to scoop up his belly, pushing it out of the way from right to left and the other way again as he slowly scooted himself upward.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He wheezed out to himself, moaning as he wiped his sweaty forehead, greasy hair sticking to his pale skin.

He couldn’t believe how tiring it was; couldn’t remember sitting up being this much of a struggle for him. And while he would rather stop doing what he was doing and instead relax again, there were rather important reasons for his urge to move.

“Okay, Dean,” Even his words were breathless, his chest and belly still jiggling even now. “You can do this. You need to do this. Sam won’t be back for a while, so you’re gonna have to man up and do this one on your own.”

It had been a long time since Dean had done this on his own. He really didn’t currently believe that he could do it, even though he had been confident about his ability to sit up before. He now realized just how much Sam had been helping him lately with simple actions such as this one.

He couldn’t yet give up, though, because Dean had to go to the bathroom rather urgently. But as he moved, or tried to, he found it becoming more and more obvious that this was impossible; he was just too heavy and out of shape to move on his own. He could just about sit up; there was no way he could get himself to stand and walk (waddle) all the way to the bathroom, no matter how close it was.

Dean’s weight gain hadn’t slowed down at all. In fact, he seemed to have exploded over the past few months, and he sure felt the newly added weight. Even moving his thick arms to feed himself was starting to feel exhausting.

It appeared that Dean was rapidly becoming immobile without Sam’s help.

The realization that Dean was now too heavy to get himself up to the bathroom, which meant that he was going to soil himself, weighed heavy on his heart. He swallowed, closing his eyes as though that would help with the embarrassment. As though this would help hide the reality.

Nothing could do that, though, because before Dean could figure out a way to stop it, it had already happened. The pressure in his mammoth of a gut let up a bit as warmth spread out underneath him, the scent of his own urine and feces filling the already rank air in their bedroom. Dean simply sat there, unable to do anything else.

He wasn’t quite sure how long it took for Sam to get back home, but by that time Dean was still sitting there with his eyes closed, feeling absolutely horrible. How was he ever going to face Sam after what had happened? Sure, Sam may be into Dean being an absolute slob, but this was taking it all to a whole new level. There was no way Sam was into this.

“Look what I got. They started triple frying the donuts at-“ Sam paused in the doorway of the bedroom, sniffing the air with a deep frown on his face. “Dean? What happened?”

Sam looked so genuinely worried, and Dean almost wanted to cry. But he didn’t. He just closed his eyes again, not wanting to see Sam’s disgusted expression when he confessed the truth of what had transpired to him.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered, his voice rough and yet quiet. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I tried to get up; I really did. But I just- I couldn’t move, could barely even sit up. It was too exhausting. I tried for about twenty minutes, you know? Can you believe it? It was just too fucking exhausting for me to do it. Couldn’t even move a damn inch after sitting up; you have no idea how sore I am right now.”

Sam was silent.

Nothing came from him. Not a single sound.

The thought that Sam may have just straight up left the room terrified Dean enough that he forced his eyes to open, afraid that he would somehow have to manage life on his own. But Sam was still standing there, staring at Dean with the dopiest, most in-love grin on his lips that Dean had ever seen on there.

“Really? You soiled yourself?”

“Jesus, Sam- yes, yeah, I really fuckin’ shit myself. I shat and pissed myself, and I made a huge mess.” Dean got up, throwing his arms up in frustration- an action that caused his entire body to jiggle while a loud, long belch escaped his lips. But he was used to the belches; he was always so gassy that he let out a belch every few minutes, it seemed. “Are you happy now?”

Sam was still grinning. “Yeah, I am.” He nodded, walking over to Dean and dropping the bag with those precious triple-fried donuts onto the floor. “You actually got yourself fat enough to be unable to get up from the bed on your own. You have no idea how hot that is, do you?”

Dean blinked, confused. “Did you forget about the part where I admitted to shitting myself?”

“Oh, trust me, big boy, that’s all that’s on my mind.” Sam pushed his fingers into Dean’s long hair, tugging on the strands to tilt his head back, kissing his lips deeply. “You’re so hot,” Sam muttered against them, nipping at Dean’s bottom lip. “You’re so hot for doing this.”

Dean was rather confused now. Did Sam actually like this? Did he enjoy the fact that Dean shit himself because he was too fat and out of shape to get up on his own? Oh, yeah, maybe Dean could understand it. It probably wasn’t so much the shit that was doing it for Sam, but the fact that Dean had let himself go so much that he was incapable of stopping himself from doing this.

“I’ll help clean you up; don’t worry about that.” Sam breathed out, kissing Dean again, heated and deep. “But just so you know, I don’t mind this at all.”

“Of course you don’t.” Dean chuckled, because they were both fucked up and nothing seemed to go too far for either of them. “Now, uh, you said something about triple-fried donuts?”

Sam laughed at that, pulling back. “I’ll get you filled right back up big boy. Just lay back and relax.”

Dean let out a big breath, putting both his hands on his gut to massage the stretch-marked skin with a smug grin. “Like I’d ever do anything else.”