Through Thick and Thin - Part 1&2 / 4
Title: Through Thick and Thin 1 & 2
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~8600 (Part 1: ~2200 , Part 2: ~6400)
Beta: Wonderful job done by impalaballah, thank you so much! I twiddled with it afterwards, so all remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: The Apocalypse is over and the angels reward the Winchesters with a clean slate. Finally able to live normal, Sam and Dean settle down, go back to college and get a job. While Dean soon feels like climbing the walls and as a result busies himself with work and sports as much as he can, Sam fills the empty spot his brother left in the only way his study schedule allows him to. When the changes to Sam's body become obvious, Dean finds new ways to entertain himself and spend more time with his brother, as well.
A/N: I posted "Part 1" a while back as the response to the Pudgy!Sam prompt by Anonymous for the Chubby Winchesters Fic-Meme but I thought I'd include it here again.
If you read it already, feel free to click "Part 2" which is the sequel.
I'll post the remaining two parts in a few days.
1
“Dude. Are you wearing my shirt?”
“No,” Sam responds, frowning, the ‘duh’ hanging unspoken in the air between them.
“Huh,” Dean mumbles, watching Sam fixing himself a sandwich. “You sure the laundry didn’t get mixed up? It looks kinda small on you.”
“I’m sure. It’s an old shirt, though. Maybe it shrunk or something…” Taking the plate with his food, Sam follows his brother into the living room and sits down next to Dean on the couch.
“Uh huh,” Dean huffs, handing Sam a beer before he grabs the remote and turns on the TV. He doesn’t follow the game that’s currently on screen, though; rather he is eyeing his little brother in his peripheral vision.
‘Shrunk, my ass,’ he thinks and chuckles as Sam bends forward to reach for his sandwich and a round belly forms, straining the shirt. Dean can even see some of the spare flesh poking out where the shirt actually rides up at his sides.
“What?” Sam glances over at him, his expression somewhere between confused and annoyed.
“Nothing.” He grins and turns back to watching the Maverick’s game.
“Dean.”
“You’re coming to my game tomorrow, aren’t you?” He asks instead, not daring to call Sam on it directly.
“Yeah, sure.” The confusion takes over Sam’s features.
“Good. Maybe we can toss a few balls afterwards, what do you say?” It’s a casual offer. Even if he hadn’t just discovered the little extra bit of his brother, he’d still try to get Sam to do some sports. He’s been lacking in that department lately.
“Okay, if it doesn’t get too late. I still got some studying to do.”
“What for? You just finished your exams,” he asks disbelievingly.
“You know why, Dean,” Sam huffs. “I’m trying to shorten my time at college. If I wanna take all the exams as soon as possible, I have to spend more time learning for them.”
“But it’s the holidays, Sammy. We should go out, do stuff together. Maybe even find us a hunt.”
“I know, and I want to, believe me, I really want to, but that’s also a reason why I have to do this now.”
“What do you mean?”
“The sooner I'm done, the sooner I can help earning some money. I know you’re busting your ass off at the garage so you can pay for everything.” Sam is staring at some spot on the floor now, his voice quiet and subdued.
“Hey, you know I don’t mind. I love working at the garage,” Dean tries to soothe, not really understanding how the conversation turned out this way.
“Yeah, I know, it’s just…” Sam trails off and leans back and his shirt skits up a little further. A sudden flash of soft belly catches Dean’s eye and he has to clear his throat, forcing his gaze back up to his brother’s face before he is able to get some words out again. “Just what?”
“I think you’re overcompensating, Dean.”
He blinks in surprise, because that wasn’t what he expected. Not that he’d expected anything at all, but still, this doesn’t even make a lick of sense to him. “What do you mean?”
“The Apocalypse might be over and we’re cleared for a normal life, but I guess you were right. This isn’t your life. You’re barely home, anymore, Dean. It’s either work or basketball practice or football practice or you have a game. If it’s not one of those I’m sure I can find you at a bar,” Sam explains and locks their eyes, daring him to deny it.
“That’s…” not true, he wants to say, but even he knows his brother is right.
“Dean…”
“Yeah, okay, I’ve been a little absent lately. But I’m not like you. I can’t sit in one room for days without starting to climb the walls. Doesn’t mean I’m overcompensating, though,” he concludes but Sam just shakes his head wearily and leans forward again to finish off his sandwich.
Ten minutes later their previously ordered pizza is delivered and Dean can hear Sam mutter a faint “Finally” before his brother gets up to pay for it. Sam absent-mindedly tugs his shirt down, but when he returns, pizza-boxes in hand, it has already ridden up again.
For the rest of the night, Dean isn’t able to keep himself from returning to look at the little flab Sam seems to be sporting. It stirs something in his insides that he can’t really describe. He nods distractedly when Sam asks him if he can finish the rest of Dean’s pizza he’s let become cold and wonders if maybe Sam is the one overcompensating for something.
~*~
The next day, Sam sits on the bleachers to watch the amateur league football game, a coke in one hand, a hot dog in the other. Dean is rock hard in 2 seconds flat when he sees Sam pushing the meat between his lips, his little brother’s expression one of pure bliss.
Lucky for him, he’s seated on the bench and by the time he gets called to the field, the thoughts of rotten corpses have gotten rid of his not-so-little problem.
At some point in the game, he chances a glance over at Sam. His brother has finished his food, now leaning contently back in his seat and this time, Dean is sure that it is one of Sam’s shirts that clings tight to his middle. It’s not even an old one. He remembers them buying it a month or so ago. His hand closes tightly around the rounded ball he carries, and wonders how the swell of Sam’s belly would feel.
Suddenly he runs into something that’s not soft at all. After that everything is black.
When he comes around, it’s to his brother worriedly calling his name.
“What happened?” he croaks, looking up at Sam. There are bright lights over him and he has to squint. “Where am I?”
“The locker room,” Sam relaxes slightly. “You ran head first into the biggest guy from the other team. How are you feeling?”
“Like someone used my head as a demolition ball,” he groans and struggles to sit up. “Concussed, but I’ll live.”
“Geez, man, you scared your team, scared me, to death,” Sam huffs, annoyed and relived while he helps him up.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, willing the room to keep from spinning.
“What happened anyway? I mean why didn’t you swerve off? He was like the only guy in your way.”
“I…uh…” Dean considers lying for a moment, but eventually decides against it. “I was distracted.”
“By what?”
“You,” he says with a smile and slings an arm around Sam’s back. His hand comes to rest on his brother’s hip and he can feel the soft flesh there give way under his fingers. Resisting the urge to grip on tight, he instead leans forward to press a gentle kiss on Sam’s lips. “Seeing you there, watching me play for the first time since…in a long time, made me realize how much I’ve missed you.”
“Guess you got some sense knocked into you then,” Sam chuckles as he carefully cards a hand through Dean’s short hair, tenderly stroking his scalp.
“Guess so,” he smiles and leans into the touch.
~*~
They spend the holidays re-bonding, catching up on the missed sex, and, true to the Christmas and New Year’s time, with loads of great food and candy.
It's the second week of January when Sam is painfully made aware of the truth. A truth Dean has already accepted and now simply enjoys. If he were a better brother he would have talked to Sam, instead of leaving snacks laying around or providing tremendous amounts of food but he figured as long as his little brother felt comfortable there wasn’t really a need to, besides it was holiday season. It’s not like Sam wouldn’t notice the changes in his own body. But apparently he didn’t or rather made use of Dean’s favourite method of coping: denial. At least until it comes to bite him in the ass.
“Fuck,” Dean hears his brother mutter. When he steps into their bedroom, he almost bursts out laughing. But only almost, because even though the sight he’s presented with is utterly ridiculous, it’s also pretty hot how Sam is laying flat on his back, shirtless to Dean’s delight, struggling to get his pants zipped up, his belly even in this position slightly higher than the rest of his body.
“Need a hand?” Dean chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorframe. Sam nearly falls off the bed in shock.
“Dean, shit,” He snaps as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, his belly nice and round, but the tease is turning it away from him. “Uh, no. I’m good.”
“You sure?” Dean asks, stepping around the bed so he faces Sam again.
“Yeah, I don’t need a hand.”
“Right,” he grins. “What you need, my brother, are some new pants.”
Sam blushes and looks away for a second, but quickly pulls himself back together, shooting Dean a defiant glower. “No need. I’m gonna work it off.”
“Sure. You can come with me to practice.” He shrugs, and smirks inwardly because no matter how much ‘salad is real food’ Sam is trying to cover it up with, Dean can see that his little brother has come to like lazing around and pigging out.
“Uh, I mean after college. When I have more time…” He excuses himself lamely.
“Whatever you want, Sammy." He smiles at his brother, honestly this time, with no hidden thoughts. “I’m with you, whatever you decide to do about…” Trailing off, he waves a hand in a circling motion at Sam’s stomach. “But to be honest, I don’t mind it.”
“You don’t?” Sam peeks up at him, clearly expecting it to be another joke.
With a sigh, he admits to himself that he has to go chick-flick moment here. After all, he can show some solidarity since this is surely a very embarrassing situation for Sam. Taking a deep breath he says: “No, I don’t. Because I like you, because I love you, Sam. Which includes your belly. Not matter how much there is of it.” Now it’s his turn to look away, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, before he continues, “In fact I would like to like a little more of it.”
“You…” Sam huffs out an incredulous laugh and Dean looks back at him, afraid his admission threw Sam off, so he starts to ramble. “Of course only if you are okay with it, I wouldn’t want to force you, it’s your body after all and -“
“Dean!”
“Huh?”
“It’s okay.” Sam is smiling at him, and stands up, pants hanging open on his hips and Dean rakes his gaze over his brother’s well-rounded body, the muscles that were now padded over with softness. It’s got to be at least 20 pounds Sam has added since they settled down, probably even more, since he was a big guy.
“Really?” Dean asks, his mouth watering at the thought of how much Sam would be packing on if they were conscious of his weight gain.
“Yeah,” Sam responds, scratching sheepishly at his head.
“Great!” He exclaims, a huge smile stretching his lips while he grips his brother by the hips. “’Cause then I’ve got a present for you.”
“You do? What is it?” Sam is perking up with curiosity.
“You’ll see.” He smirks, and winks at him. “Why don’t you get out of these stupid jeans and I’ll be back in a minute?”
~*~
When Dean returns he has stripped down to nothing more than his boxers, and carries a tray with a bowl of popcorn, a sumptuous breakfast and a flat box balanced on top of it.
“Is that what I think it is?” Sam asks eagerly, sitting up a little straighter against the headboard.
“It is,” Dean confirms, putting down the tray on the side of the bed.
“Awesome, thank you!”
In the last second, Dean pulls the box of pralines away from Sam’s grabby fingers. “Not so fast, Sammy.”
Motioning his pouting brother to scoot forward a little, Dean squeezes himself between the headboard and Sam, both shifting around until Sam is resting comfortably between Dean’s legs, leaning with his back against his chest.
Dean pops open the carton and picks out the first piece of chocolate. “Open up,” he commands playfully and Sam happily obeys.
Feeding his brother with one hand, he spreads the other over Sam’s bulging middle, feeling the soft flesh pressing ever so slightly against his fingers with every breath his brother takes. It’s like his brother’s growing stomach is begging to be touched. Now that they have come clean and he’s finally free to caress Sam’s oh-so-soft belly, he can’t stop, so when there’s no food left and Sam is pliant, satisfied and full in his arms, Dean’s second hand joins the first. Splaying both over the swell of Sam’s middle he lets them rest there, fingers slightly digging into the warmth that presses against them. Dean contentedly relaxes under Sam’s weight and enjoys just feeling and holding his brother.
2
It’s been 4 months, a lot of clothes and approximately 80 pounds since they started to indulge their passion.
Dean quit basketball and limited himself to football, which meant only two days of practice instead of four and not two but just one game a weekend, some weeks even less. All to have more time he could spend with Sam. And they sure made good use of it. They went out for dinner, to see a movie or whatever they were in the mood for, being brothers or being lovers. What Sam enjoyed most, though, were the quiet evenings at home, when they would just hang out with the TV on and there was a big, delicious meal cooked with love by his brother for him to devour. Often he’d be so full that he had to sleep it off a little before they could even think about sex. But then, when they actually got to doing it, it was mind-blowing. Each and every time.
Everything was going great.
Or at least that’s what Sam had thought until now. His brother has apparently lost his mind.
“Look!” Dean says, smiling like a five year old, and while Sam usually finds it adorable, in moments like this it freaks him out. “Swim trunks, Sammy.”
“I can see that, Dean,” he responds, overly-calm and focused in case any sudden movement might spook his brother.
“They're a present for you. I bet your old ones don’t fit anymore.” The unspoken ‘especially after your birthday feast two days ago’ is written clearly in the smirk of Dean’s eyes.
“What would I need them for?” Yeah, he knows college education and all that should make him a little more capable in situations like these, but this is Dean and one of his crazy ideas.
“Duh, the public outdoor pools opened yesterday. We’re going.”
“Uh…no?”
“Uh…yes?” Dean retorts and takes a step towards him, placing his hands on the side of Sam’s rounded belly. “Come on, Sammy,” he pleads, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he gently caresses Sam’s engorged middle. “Wanna see you…”
“Dean…” he pants and grips his brother’s arms to stop their movements. If Dean would slip his hands just a little lower, to the underside of his belly, then they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon, except for the bed or whatever flat surface was nearest. “You see me everyday, we have a bathtub…”
“It’s not big enough,” Dean cuts him short and squeezes his love handles hard, making him gasp. “Also,” Dean continues with a smug grin. “I’ve heard the store or diner or whatever they have there makes the best and biggest fries.”
“You know I prefer a healthy salad,” he deadpans but his stomach growls eagerly at the thought of one or two helpings of tasty potato sticks and they both chuckle.
“Liar!” Dean smirks and pinches him in the side. “Think of laying in the sun, me feeding you one after another and a nice pool to cool off in.” Dean steps closer again, voice husky and suggestive and Sam can feel his brother’s ripped abs press and rub against his fleshy bump, before Dean pulls his head down for a kiss.
“Alright,” he pants out, his mind and body on sensory overload and once again Sam guesses that his belly and especially the area from his navel down, has actually become more sensitive than his cock. Besides there isn’t really any serious objection to Dean’s plan in the first place. Quite the opposite, Sam thought it was a nice idea but for Dean to bring it up had been a little out of the left field, since it was usually him who suggested that they did something other than going to a bar or to see a movie.
~*~
Once they're at the pool they find themselves a somewhat secluded spot beneath a tree and lay down their blanket. It's a bit of a walk from the three available pools but they decide it doesn't matter. They were going to eat first since it was already late noon, and then laze around in the warm sun until the place would hopefully clear somewhat of all the families by afternoon.
“Good?” Dean asks from behind him, as Sam looks over at the people buzzing around, at the kids laughing and running with ice-cream. Sam feels his brother rest his cheek between his shoulder blades and strong arms sling around his midriff, hands splaying on top of his gigantic bulge.
“Yeah,” he mumbles and leans back into Dean.
“But I’m guessing you would feel even better without this…” Sam hears his brother say and suddenly Dean’s hands stroke up, over his belly and chest until they find the first button and start to open his large, dark red button down shirt.
“You’re guessing right,” he says with a low voice and a smile, and he lets his brother undress him, Dean’s hands always dipping beneath his shirt to gently brush his knuckles over the broadening expanse of soft, bare skin before he works open the next button.
When Dean is finished, Sam turns around and enjoys how Dean takes his time moving his hands beneath the shirt, over his belly, up to his chest and shoulders, to finally push the shirt off of him.
Dean turns around to put it away and Sam uses the opportunity to adjust his pants. His big and fleshy stomach dips slightly over the waistband but despite its size it still stands out in front of him, taut and round and Sam is proud to see that it continues to seemingly defy gravity.
“Did I tell you how fucking hot you look in those trunks?”
“About a hundred times,” Sam mumbles sheepishly, trying for casual and failing as he looks up from underneath his bangs to see his brother, standing a few feet from him, gazing him up and down appraisingly.
Even if Dean hadn’t said anything, the heat in his eyes would have been enough to let Sam know that his brother more than approved of the sight he offered. He hadn’t expected it to be true to anyone but Dean when his brother first held out the pair of black trunks with the white orchid printed on one leg, but as it turns out they are really nice. He had tried them on at their apartment, fearing that Dean would want him to squeeze into a pair that was way too tight, which was maybe a delight for his brother but certainly would have been embarrassing for him if he would have let himself got caught in public.
Dean surprisingly though, had bought a pair that fit. And how it fit. Tight in all the right places, hugging his ass, accentuating the firm globes without the waistband digging painfully into his hips and also being comfortably loose around his meaty thighs, reaching down to just over his knees. If he's honest he would have jerked off to his reflection if Dean hadn’t been waiting, more than annoyed for being shut out of the bathroom. Feeling a little guilty, he decided to give his brother more credit. At least until Dean made him do something again because he thinks it is hot, not caring if it’s awfully embarrassing for Sam.
“That’s got to be the most times I’ve told the truth in one day,” Dean says with a smirk and reaches out to place a hand against his soft belly again. And their friends say he’s the insatiable one, when Dean can’t stop touching him. Not that he’s complaining.
“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” Dean informs him, chuckling after Sam’s stomach gurgles and Sam’s face heats up, sure that Dean must have felt it beneath his palm.
“You do that, but first…” he says, forcing the blush down with a smirk, “this goes off.” Grabbing the hem of Dean’s shirt, he pulls it over his brother’s head and tosses it to the side. “There, better,” he laughs and hungrily takes in the perfectly sculpted figure of his brother. Dean says Sam looks hot in his new trunks and while he won’t deny it, in his eyes Dean is the real walking sin, leading even the finest man into temptation.
“You can’t get enough, huh?” Dean says with a wink, before he wanders off. He throws a cocky glance over his shoulder, playfully wiggling his hips when he’s out of reach, because Sam would have smacked him on the ass. Sam feels the welcome, familiar warmth spread inside him that always fills him when he is reminded of how well Dean knows him.
“Never enough of you, Dean,” he mumbles under his breath and sits down on the blanket with one hand resting on his enormous gut, a black hole yearning to be filled by his brother.
~*~
When Dean comes back, Sam leans forward a little from where he’s rested against the tree, having to spread his legs a little further to make room for his gut.
“Only two?” He asks, a little disappointed, when Dean sets down the two servings of fries and the cup of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream.
“Actually, only one. The other is for me, but if you’re nice I might just let you have half of mine,” Dean says and sits down behind Sam, pulling him in against his chest. “We can grab as much as you want later and I’m gonna fill you up so good, but I want you to come into the pool with me first, so one serving it is.”
Releasing a fake annoyed sigh, Sam leans back against his brother’s broad and strong chest, amazed at how Dean still loves sitting in this position, not once complaining about Sam becoming too heavy for it. “Well, at least you brought ice-cream,” he breathes out and picks up the fries. “Feed me?”
“Bitchy, much?” Dean chuckles but takes the food from him nonetheless. He rests his forearm where Sam’s stomach starts to bulge widely outwards, holding the fries while he picks one that’s heavily covered in ketchup and nudges it against Sam’s lips.
Happily he opens up and lets his brother fill him with food, every once in a while sucking Dean’s fingers between his lips to lick them clean and get an extra taste of his brother, eliciting a pleased moan from Dean whenever he does.
This way they go through their meal, a growl escaping him when Dean teases him, pulling back the food he’s holding out just when Sam is about to close his mouth around it, only to pop it into his own. When he turns his head to glare at his brother, he sees Dean cocking an eyebrow, his mischievous smirk in place before he leans down to press an apologetic kiss on his lips and Sam can never hold a grudge after that.
In the end he’s eaten most of the fries and the ice-cream anyway; Dean wouldn’t have it any other way. Relaxing back with a content sigh and slight burp, Sam splays his hands on his stomach.
“Don’t tell me you’re full already?” Dean asks and soon his hands join Sam’s. He can’t help but push his belly out a little further, longing to feel Dean’s skilled fingers press into his fleshy globe, itching for the sensation a massage of Dean’s calloused palms provides.
“Not really, but you were right. I want to come into the water with you without getting sick.” Sam almost moans and squirms in his brother’s arms, arching his back as much as he can, intensifying the pressure Dean uses to rub his belly. Dean massages and kneads the soft flesh, pushes his bulge down and pulls it up only to stop all his movement to just cup Sam’s gut in his hands, holding its heavy weight, and it nearly drives Sam insane.
“Lower,” he pleads, cock half hard in his trunks, because Dean has apparently decided to be a tease, dipping nothing more than his pinkie fingers lower than Sam’s belly button and even then barely long enough for him to gasp, his member twitching eagerly, before it's gone again. “Dean, please, touch me.”
“Jesus, Sammy, we’re in public,” Dean says with mock indignation, squeezing the pliable love handles poking out at Sam’s side. “I’m not gonna pull your big cock out for everyone to see. To see how it strains against your fucking perfect belly.”
“Dean!” He whines. While he would like some attention on his cock, it’s not what he meant, and he knows that Dean knows it too.
“All mine,” Dean breathes seductively into his ear, splaying his hands possessively over the expanse of Sam’s stomach, pressing in, pulling him closer, fingers digging deep into the squashy flesh.
“If you don’t…” he gasps, “then stop.” Gathering all his willpower, he manages to grab Dean’s wrist and effectively still his movements, but now there are two pair of hands sunken deep into his enormous middle. He can feel his belly press against them with every breath he takes, and it feels so amazing that his further protests are forgotten. Soon his breathing becomes deeper and he holds the air in a little longer on every outward push of his abdomen.
“Fuck,” Dean huffs and lets his head fall forward on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re… Shit, Sam…” He curls in around Sam, his thighs and arms tightening their hold on him and Sam senses his fingers twitch, feeling Dean’s pulse going fast beneath the grip he still has on his wrists. “What you do to me…”
Before Sam can respond, the moment is suddenly broken when a beach ball lands on the ground a couple of feet in front of them and rolls further until it stops by the edge of their blanket. Seeing it as an opportunity to get himself back together, Sam untangles himself from Dean’s arms, ignoring the whiny protest and gets on his knees.
“Can you throw me the ball, mister? Please,” a boy calls over the small hedge that had somewhat hid them from fleeting gazes. Sam nods with a smile and picks the ball up, throwing it almost too far but to know that he’s not just a wobbly blob of meat, that he still has some strength left in him, pleases him immensely. “Thank you!” The boy shouts before he runs off, the toy safely back in his arms.
“Nice kid, don’t you think?” Sam asks and throws a soft smile over his shoulders. Dean has some predatory gleam in his eyes though, so Sam quickly drops the topic. Might not be the best opportunity to talk to Dean right now in regards to the matter he’d been thinking about for a while.
“I’m gonna…” take a shower, he wants to say instead and has already lifted to one foot, but Dean suddenly slings an arm around him and splays his hand over the underside of his belly pinning him into place just like that. “Fuck,” he groans and ‘finally’, he thinks as he falls back on his ass, his dick straining rock hard against his trunks. A guttural moan bubbles up from deep inside him when he realizes, that even through the fabric, he feels the head of his cock push against Dean’s hand. Dean’s hand, which is now pressed tightly into his lap by his heavy, rounded, fleshy globe that is bulging out eager and greedily in front of him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dean whispers in his ear, wiggling his fingers in their trap of soft, pliable flesh.
“Dean…” His brother’s name is all he can moan, not daring to move, afraid to lose the amazing sensation of his brother’s hand being completely surrounded by him. Now he really needs a cold shower. Or to get off, ASAP. And then a shower. He could get on board with that, too.
“Tell me,” Dean orders, pushing down on Sam’s gut with his other hand, pressing it even further against his other.
“Shit…” Sam gasps, his belly jiggling and his head lolls back against Dean’s shoulder. "Shower,” he finally manages to mumble.
“Not yet,” Dean says and starts to kiss down his exposed neck, nibbling and licking whatever flesh he can pull between his teeth. He begins to slowly rub his belly, stroking up and down and around it or moving in caressing circles, making it feel like his hand is everywhere, as if Dean somehow manages to cover his gigantic belly completely with one touch and Sam wishes to keep this feeling forever. Suddenly, the hand Dean’s still got under his belly moves and squeezes its way inside Sam’s shorts, pushing the fabric down enough to wrap it around his erection and pull it free.
“Thought…” Sam’s breath hitches from arousal when his cock head pokes against the underside of his belly. Dean relentlessly strokes him up and down in the confined space, his brother’s fist bumping against his stomach over and over again, causing it to rise and eventually fall back against his dick on every down stroke of his brother’s hand. “Thought you didn’t want to…” he breathes through the haze of pleasure.
“Changed my mind,” Dean retorts shortly, flicking his tongue just below Sam’s earlobe and at the same time flicks his thumb over the head of his dick on an upward stroke, fingernail scratching over his overly-sensitive lower abdomen. He barely manages to bury his head against Dean’s neck to muffle his shout as he comes hard into his brother’s hand, come splattering the underside of his belly.
Sam shakes in his brother’s arms, while Dean strokes and gently coaxes him through his orgasm, muttering affections in his ear. They stay like this until even the last ripple of his flab has ceased and only his stomach rises and falls heavily as he attempts to catch his breath.
When he’s finally coherent enough, realization of where they are comes back and he struggles to straighten up, but exhaustion and an enormous gut in his way only leave him wheezing. “Gotta… clean up…” he pants. “If some-“
“Won’t matter, Sammy,” Dean interrupts him, patting his gut adoringly. “No one will see anything.”
“Shit,” he chuckles, looking up at his brother. “I’m already that big?”
“Yeah,” Dean says and kisses him deep. “Does it bother you?”
“Not at all.” He lets out a contented sigh. “Anyway, I’d still like to clean up before it gets all sticky.”
“Alright,” Dean groans, reluctantly pulling his come-painted hand out from beneath Sam’s belly, and they both moan softly. He removes himself from his position behind Sam. “Lay down,” he advises after he casts a quick glance over his shoulder, checking that no one is around, and Sam complies, stretching himself out on their blanket while he watches Dean rummage through their bag with his clean hand until he comes up with a towel. Cleaning his hand, Dean straddles Sam’s thighs and looks down at him.
Sam finds himself automatically responding to Dean’s appraising smiles until something hits him.
“What about you?” He asks, feeling bad for only now noticing that he didn’t get his brother off.
“Oh, don’t worry, Sammy. Saving it for later,” he says with his best cocky smirk, cupping himself through his swim trunks. “I’m gonna fill you up till you burst.”
“Yeah, good, okay.” Sam breathes, and nods, mesmerized by the love he can see in Dean’s green eyes as his brother starts to work on cleaning him up. Gently Dean strokes over the underside of his belly, before softly removing the come that’s still smeared around his now flaccid cock and eventually tucks it safely away in his trunks.
“There, all good,” Dean says and lets the waistband snap back into place, making Sam’s stomach jiggle slightly.
“Hey,” he huffs annoyed and places both hands on the massive mount of flesh to stop the movement.
Dean laughs, and flops down on the blanket as well. “You should shower though. There are some stains on your trunks I can’t get out.”
“Uh huh…” he mumbles and turns his head to look at Dean, who's laying on his side next to him, propped up on his elbow. Reaching out with one hand, he picks Dean’s free arm and places it around his middle.
“So perfectly gorgeous,” Dean mutters absentmindedly, as he begins to trace idle paths with his fingers on the generous outwards curve of Sam’s belly.
Sam smiles happily. He closes his eyes and enjoys the leisured atmosphere that has settled over them.
Before long, however, Dean does nudge him in the side.
“Come on, Sammy. Time for a shower.”
He huffs at being disturbed, but sits up nonetheless. “Are you coming with me?”
“Nah. Who’s gonna watch our stuff?” Dean drawls lazily and rolls onto his back, eyes closed as he keeps on bathing in the sun.
“Fine, you lazy bastard,” he says, but his voice lacks heat. To be honest, he’s glad Dean’s resting a bit. His brother mainly limits his downtime to when he’s feeding Sam. While he’d love to go for some steamy sex in the shower, he’s content to leave Dean be for now in anticipation of the wild night of sex laying ahead of him, when they’ll return home later, both well rested and relaxed.
Dean just grins sleepily at him and Sam heads of to the showers, smiling softly to himself.
He picks one of the few shower stalls, closes the door behind himself and steps out of his shorts.
He takes his time rinsing out the wet - turning white - spots and enjoys the feeling of the little bit of belly that is now freely hanging down; just enough that its weight is like a constant, feather-light touch to the base of his cock. He felt it first about two weeks ago. The smooth, big and round globe that he is proud is still mostly standing out in front of him is growing even wider, straining towards his cock.
Sam thinks about jerking off, but then he hears someone enter the cubicle next to him and decides against it. Instead he pulls his swim trunks back on and heads back to join his brother on the blanket.
When he finds Dean sound asleep, mouth slightly opened, Sam feels a smile of affection tug on his lips. As carefully as possible he lays down next to him on the blanket.
“Sammy?” Dean murmurs and blinks. Quickly he cups Dean’s cheek, and caresses it with his thumb. It works every time, his brother's gone back to sleep before Sam can even tell him to go back to sleep.
For a while he enjoys the peaceful view - even after a year of nearly no hunting, Sam still considers it special.
At some point, he takes out one of his study books and reads the chapter he’s assigned to. Dean, closet octopus he is, is snuggled close to his side and has an arm thrown over his lap.
Not until the daylight around him starts to dim, and it’s become a lot quieter, does Sam notice how much time has passed. It’s past 5, so he puts his book away and gently cards a hand through Dean’s short hair.
Tenderly, Sam massages Dean’s scalp with his finger tips, coaxing him from sleep. His brother stirs a little and actually lets out something close to a purr. Sam really doesn’t mean to, but he just can’t help laughing. It’s just too good of ammunition and later he’ll definitely try to get this very un-manly sound from a very awake Dean.
His amusement does the trick, although a little more roughly than his original approach, when his whole body trembles in the attempt to suppress the laughter and his belly shakes, nudging Dean’s shoulder until he’s awake.
“The hell?” Dean grumbles and sits up, rubbing his eyes with a fist, adorably similar to a five year old, and Sam’s chuckles ebb away into a loving smile.
“What?” His brother says confused, voice still sleep-muffled, but Sam just shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Whatever, freak,” Dean huffs, clearly thrown off-balance, but from the way he turns his head, trying to hide a blush, Sam knows his brother has picked up on the affection in his eyes.
“Look,” he says and throws an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “It’s cleared out a little, the pool is closing in under two hours, so what do you say we grab our stuff and head over, see if there’s a free spot near the water?”
“Yeah, good idea.”
~*~
They do indeed find themselves an empty bench, right next to the pool with the high dive.
Dean stashes their stuff under the bench and throws their towels over it before they head of to the 5 foot deep pool in the middle from where they still can keep on eye on everything, just in case.
Once in the water, Sam lets himself float, relishing the weightlessness the water offers him. That is, until Dean decides to dunk his head in the water.
There are only a few people in the pool besides them, most of the other guests laying somewhere letting the last sun rays dry them off, so there’s plenty of space for him and Dean to goof around without disturbing anyone.
Coming up, spluttering water and curses and maybe laughter, Sam tackles Dean. He goes for the wrestling match Dean aimed at, throwing all his weight at his brother and pulls him down. In an all-but-subtle way, Dean uses every chance he gets to grab and hold onto Sam, trying to wrap his arms and legs around Sam’s body or digging his fingers for purchase into the soft flesh.
He loves it, loves how this is just about fun, about being close to each other with the potential to go further, but neither of them in a hurry to get there. So, Sam might not be all that subtle about just pretending to try and get away from Dean’s grabby hands himself.
~*~
“Gotcha,” he laughs, slightly breathless.
Sam has both his hands planted on the edge of the pool, effectively caging his brother in.
Dean just grins lazily up at him, pulling him closer until Sam’s belly rubs tightly against Dean’s firm and ripped abdomen.
It’s one of Sam’s favorite sensations, feeling their differences and from the looks of it Dean likes it as much as he does.
Enthusiastically, Sam leans forwards and slots their lips together in a passionate kiss. As he does, Dean sneaks his arms around him and Sam feels strong fingers cup the globes of his rounded ass, feels them starting to squeeze his butt in time with Dean’s tongue eagerly licking its way into Sam’s mouth.
Sam’s cock starts to take notice and he presses himself even closer to Dean, lost in their own little world. Before they get to take it anywhere though, the sound of laughter and young boys' feet running past them catapults them back in the here and now.
“Shit,” Dean chuckles and rests his forehead against Sam’s. “Damn brats… If they had at least been in their teens, I’d have said fuck it, let’s show them some good stuff.”
“Pervert,” he teases, but he knows Dean would be a great Dad, if it came down to it. His brother grins and pushes him slightly back so that he can pull himself up and out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool.
“You love it, baby,” Dean says with a smirk. “I say we get out of here. Grab some tasty dinner,” he drawls and toes Sam’s belly, making him squirm away and chuckle at the gentle tickling, “spend some quality time after this stressful day.”
Sam smiles and nods. “Yeah, sure. You go ahead, though. Gimme five more minutes, please?” The spacey pool is just too good. Their bathtub at home was already a tight fit when they moved in, and now that he’s increased in size even more there’s no way for him to take a truly relaxing bath in it. Throwing Dean his puppy eyes, Sam leans back until he’s floating in the water, moving his arms just enough to stay at the surface.
“’kay,” Dean says, licking his lips distractedly while his eyes are fixed on the peak of Sam’s belly which is proudly breeching the water's surface, reaching for the setting sun. Sam can’t help the smug smile when he sees Dean adjust himself in his trunks before he gets up. “I… uh… I’ll pack our stuff then.” Which Dean apparently forgot they hadn’t even unpacked.
Joyfully Sam watches Dean stumble his way to their bench, every few steps awkwardly throwing a glance back over his shoulder before he remembers he needs to look ahead if he doesn’t want to run into something. When Dean reaches their stuff he snatches a towel and roughly rubs it over his head.
Knowing Dean, it’s a desperate attempt to clear his head and calm his libido down, and Sam guesses Dean is calling him a tease and worse under his breath about now.
Not having it in him to torture his horny brother any longer, and himself for that matter because if he’s honest he’s not much better off, Sam makes his way out of the pool.
Doesn’t mean he can’t pull one last joke on his still distracted brother though, he thinks to himself when his eyes land on the high dive.
Stepping onto the one nearest to where Dean is still standing with his back to the pool, drying himself off, Sam runs along it and splash-dives hard into the water, hoping that at least everyone in a radius of 10 feet got hit by the water splatters.
Even muffled by the water around him, Sam can make out his brother's surprised yelp and some children’s laughter, tellling him that he’s succeeded.
Coming up with a bright grin, he sees the boys that rushed past them earlier, smiling and waving at him. “Awesome, man!” One calls and he waves back, wishing a boy of his and Dean's would be standing with them. Or maybe a girl. A girl would be nice, too, he thinks and imagines the over-protectiveness it would bring up in his big brother. Dean would deny it of course, but when she’d get older he’d probably sit awake, worrying until she’d returned safely from a party just to play it all cool in the end.
“Yeah, really awesome, Sam,” his brother’s sarcastic voice pulls him back from his thoughts and he turns around, swimming to the ladder leading out of the pool. Dean’s glaring at him, accusingly holding out the drenched towel in front of him, hair plastered against his forehead. There’s a hint of amusement in Dean’s eyes though, maybe a little pride that Sam managed to pull a prank on him, a prank Dean Winchester ‘Master-of-Disaster’ would fully approve of. Sam thinks he can even make out a tad bit of jealousy in his brother’s eyes, probably because Dean hadn’t come up with it himself.
Sam laughs heartily, as he climbs out of the pool, grabbing onto the hand his brother offers him. “Looks like you finally learned something from me,” Dean chuckles and Sam knows today is the right day to talk to Dean about getting kids. They were both in a good, a great mood, Dean is open and playful like he hasn’t been in a long time. Tonight, after they have a generous meal and some mind-blowing sex, when they lay in bed blissfully and relaxed, he'll bring it up. Not demand anything, just throw the idea into the room and let Dean wrap his head around it.
Who knows, maybe Dean will immediately be on board with it. After all, Dean is really good with kids, and no matter how hard he tries to be the no-chick-flick-moment, tough guy, Sam can see that his brother gets all gooey inside when a child is involved.
So, Sam thinks, it's a great topic to end a great day with.
“Dean?” Someone suddenly calls.
They both turn, hearing the voice just as they reach their stuff.
“Oh, hey, Luke,” Dean greets and turns to the blonde man leading the approaching group of three guys. Sam picks up a towel and starts to dry himself off, looking at the men that are all around his or Dean’s age. He’s met them before at a basketball game. They're on one of the local firefighter teams and have played one or two friendly matches against Dean’s team. This Luke guy, Dean had told him once, said it was a pity Sam wasn’t a fireman so that he could play for them. Sam had just smiled softly at that. He will never again play on a different team than his brother, even if they had the same goal.
“How nice of you,” Luke chuckles. “Doing charity work?”
“What do you mean?” Dean asks, with a confused frown that matched Sam’s own.
“Showing around your fat cousin,” the blonde man, as tall as Sam, points a thumb at him as if he weren’t even standing right there. Sam is too startled to react, but he sees the tension in Dean’s shoulders, the posture that tells Sam his brother is ready to punch the douchebag in his face. Luckily, Dean has learned that if you wanted to maintain a normal and steady life, you can’t go around knocking people out as you please.
Instead Dean clenches his teeth, calm for now, but Sam isn’t sure for how long. To be honest, even if he knows they shouldn’t pick a fight, he doesn’t care about it right now.
“Excuse me?” Dean grits.
“Shit, Luke.” A shorter guy, Carl or Kevin or something, sturdy with muscles, pulls his friend back at the shoulder to get his attention. “It’s not his cousin, man. That’s his boyfriend. That’s Sam.”
“What?” Luke’s head snaps back around and Sam feels his scrutinizing gaze sweep over his whole body. He has been looked at and stared at before by strangers, even gotten teased by his friends in college, who of course have noticed him changing, but that had been good-natured banter. Never had it felt this insulting. Feeling uncomfortably exposed, Sam grabs his shirt and starts to pull it over his body.
“No,” Dean suddenly shouts. “Don’t. Leave it off,” he says sternly and steps in front of him, pushing the fabric back down and off his shoulders. “You got nothing to be ashamed off, Sammy.”
Sam smiles thankfully at his brother, still self-conscious but there’s reassurance in Dean’s eyes. They haven’t run into a situation like this before, no one has ever cared that much about his looks. Although he didn't really expect any different, it’s good to actually know Dean is standing up for him even in this, that his brother isn’t ashamed of it now that it’s nastily dragged to the surface by some vain asshole.
“Fuck! So it’s true?” Luke gasps out.
“Shut up!” Dean yells and swirls around, fists clenched at his side.
“Yeah, man, leave them alone.” Luke’s friends advise him, but apparently he is on a roll.
“Don’t tell me you like that…all that…” Luke waves incredulously at Sam, but Dean quickly steps in front of him, shielding him as if Luke will attack any moment.
“None of your fucking business.” Dean is fuming now, and Sam is seriously considering not stopping his brother if he decides to get violent. Hell, he’ll probably throw in a punch himself.
“Shit, man…” Luke shakes his head, finally addressing him directly. “We saw each other like 9 months ago? Something like that? I can’t believe I once wished you would have been able to play on our team.” Turning back to Dean, he says, “What are you giving him to eat, dude?”
There’s an audible swallow coming from Dean. Angry and tense, he becomes an open book, it all gets laid bare and judging by the change of expression on Luke’s face, he catches on.
“Fuck, you…you’re feeding, him? Like a pig?” Disgust drips from his tone and Sam can't help the involuntary flinch at the spiteful comparison. By now even the faces of the two other guys have scrunched up into disbelieving frowns.
“He’s not, okay? Just leave us alone, dude,” Sam tries. He speaks up, for the first and for the last time. If Luke doesn’t drop it, fists will fly.
Of course, Luke doesn’t get it, instead he actually continues. “That’s sick, man. You guys are fucking sick.”
Dean is on him in a flash. It’s not the pissed-off beating Sam expected, though. Not the angry bar brawl punches Sam would have gladly let his brother execute. No, his brother is using his hunter skills and that shocks him more than the insults. He can’t let Dean do this, can’t risk Dean beating the hell out of this guy or even worse. They don’t need to have to deal with a lawsuit now that their records are clean.
Grabbing Dean by the shoulders he pulls him away, just as the other guys get a hold of Luke, but the two fighting men already landed some hits. Dean’s lower lip is split, Luke’s right eye is swelling shut already and a red line of blood gushes out of his nose.
“Fuck,” Luke snarls, brushing it away with the back of his hand. Dean just smirks, grimly satisfied, tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lip.
Sam hastily grabs their stuff and pushes Dean in the direction of the exit. “Come on, let’s just go.”
“Don’t even fucking think of calling us when you need someone to tear down your walls because your boyfriend doesn’t fit through the fucking door anymore!” Luke shouts after them.
“I’m gonna rip him apart,” Dean grits and stops walking, but in the last moment Sam manages to grab his shoulders, keeping him from turning around again. “He’s not worth it, Dean. Come on, I wanna go.”
Dean glares for a moment, but then nods and lets himself be maneuvered further to the exit. Sam has slung an arm around his shoulders, for one to prevent Dean from anymore lashing out but also to keep them both grounded.
Luke yells once more, so loud that even the last people that haven’t yet followed their fight turn their head. Beneath his hands Sam feels Dean’s already tense body stiffen further and freeze to the spot at the gruesome boding that pierces the air.
“You’re killing him, Dean!”
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~8600 (Part 1: ~2200 , Part 2: ~6400)
Beta: Wonderful job done by impalaballah, thank you so much! I twiddled with it afterwards, so all remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: The Apocalypse is over and the angels reward the Winchesters with a clean slate. Finally able to live normal, Sam and Dean settle down, go back to college and get a job. While Dean soon feels like climbing the walls and as a result busies himself with work and sports as much as he can, Sam fills the empty spot his brother left in the only way his study schedule allows him to. When the changes to Sam's body become obvious, Dean finds new ways to entertain himself and spend more time with his brother, as well.
A/N: I posted "Part 1" a while back as the response to the Pudgy!Sam prompt by Anonymous for the Chubby Winchesters Fic-Meme but I thought I'd include it here again.
If you read it already, feel free to click "Part 2" which is the sequel.
I'll post the remaining two parts in a few days.
1
“Dude. Are you wearing my shirt?”
“No,” Sam responds, frowning, the ‘duh’ hanging unspoken in the air between them.
“Huh,” Dean mumbles, watching Sam fixing himself a sandwich. “You sure the laundry didn’t get mixed up? It looks kinda small on you.”
“I’m sure. It’s an old shirt, though. Maybe it shrunk or something…” Taking the plate with his food, Sam follows his brother into the living room and sits down next to Dean on the couch.
“Uh huh,” Dean huffs, handing Sam a beer before he grabs the remote and turns on the TV. He doesn’t follow the game that’s currently on screen, though; rather he is eyeing his little brother in his peripheral vision.
‘Shrunk, my ass,’ he thinks and chuckles as Sam bends forward to reach for his sandwich and a round belly forms, straining the shirt. Dean can even see some of the spare flesh poking out where the shirt actually rides up at his sides.
“What?” Sam glances over at him, his expression somewhere between confused and annoyed.
“Nothing.” He grins and turns back to watching the Maverick’s game.
“Dean.”
“You’re coming to my game tomorrow, aren’t you?” He asks instead, not daring to call Sam on it directly.
“Yeah, sure.” The confusion takes over Sam’s features.
“Good. Maybe we can toss a few balls afterwards, what do you say?” It’s a casual offer. Even if he hadn’t just discovered the little extra bit of his brother, he’d still try to get Sam to do some sports. He’s been lacking in that department lately.
“Okay, if it doesn’t get too late. I still got some studying to do.”
“What for? You just finished your exams,” he asks disbelievingly.
“You know why, Dean,” Sam huffs. “I’m trying to shorten my time at college. If I wanna take all the exams as soon as possible, I have to spend more time learning for them.”
“But it’s the holidays, Sammy. We should go out, do stuff together. Maybe even find us a hunt.”
“I know, and I want to, believe me, I really want to, but that’s also a reason why I have to do this now.”
“What do you mean?”
“The sooner I'm done, the sooner I can help earning some money. I know you’re busting your ass off at the garage so you can pay for everything.” Sam is staring at some spot on the floor now, his voice quiet and subdued.
“Hey, you know I don’t mind. I love working at the garage,” Dean tries to soothe, not really understanding how the conversation turned out this way.
“Yeah, I know, it’s just…” Sam trails off and leans back and his shirt skits up a little further. A sudden flash of soft belly catches Dean’s eye and he has to clear his throat, forcing his gaze back up to his brother’s face before he is able to get some words out again. “Just what?”
“I think you’re overcompensating, Dean.”
He blinks in surprise, because that wasn’t what he expected. Not that he’d expected anything at all, but still, this doesn’t even make a lick of sense to him. “What do you mean?”
“The Apocalypse might be over and we’re cleared for a normal life, but I guess you were right. This isn’t your life. You’re barely home, anymore, Dean. It’s either work or basketball practice or football practice or you have a game. If it’s not one of those I’m sure I can find you at a bar,” Sam explains and locks their eyes, daring him to deny it.
“That’s…” not true, he wants to say, but even he knows his brother is right.
“Dean…”
“Yeah, okay, I’ve been a little absent lately. But I’m not like you. I can’t sit in one room for days without starting to climb the walls. Doesn’t mean I’m overcompensating, though,” he concludes but Sam just shakes his head wearily and leans forward again to finish off his sandwich.
Ten minutes later their previously ordered pizza is delivered and Dean can hear Sam mutter a faint “Finally” before his brother gets up to pay for it. Sam absent-mindedly tugs his shirt down, but when he returns, pizza-boxes in hand, it has already ridden up again.
For the rest of the night, Dean isn’t able to keep himself from returning to look at the little flab Sam seems to be sporting. It stirs something in his insides that he can’t really describe. He nods distractedly when Sam asks him if he can finish the rest of Dean’s pizza he’s let become cold and wonders if maybe Sam is the one overcompensating for something.
~*~
The next day, Sam sits on the bleachers to watch the amateur league football game, a coke in one hand, a hot dog in the other. Dean is rock hard in 2 seconds flat when he sees Sam pushing the meat between his lips, his little brother’s expression one of pure bliss.
Lucky for him, he’s seated on the bench and by the time he gets called to the field, the thoughts of rotten corpses have gotten rid of his not-so-little problem.
At some point in the game, he chances a glance over at Sam. His brother has finished his food, now leaning contently back in his seat and this time, Dean is sure that it is one of Sam’s shirts that clings tight to his middle. It’s not even an old one. He remembers them buying it a month or so ago. His hand closes tightly around the rounded ball he carries, and wonders how the swell of Sam’s belly would feel.
Suddenly he runs into something that’s not soft at all. After that everything is black.
When he comes around, it’s to his brother worriedly calling his name.
“What happened?” he croaks, looking up at Sam. There are bright lights over him and he has to squint. “Where am I?”
“The locker room,” Sam relaxes slightly. “You ran head first into the biggest guy from the other team. How are you feeling?”
“Like someone used my head as a demolition ball,” he groans and struggles to sit up. “Concussed, but I’ll live.”
“Geez, man, you scared your team, scared me, to death,” Sam huffs, annoyed and relived while he helps him up.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, willing the room to keep from spinning.
“What happened anyway? I mean why didn’t you swerve off? He was like the only guy in your way.”
“I…uh…” Dean considers lying for a moment, but eventually decides against it. “I was distracted.”
“By what?”
“You,” he says with a smile and slings an arm around Sam’s back. His hand comes to rest on his brother’s hip and he can feel the soft flesh there give way under his fingers. Resisting the urge to grip on tight, he instead leans forward to press a gentle kiss on Sam’s lips. “Seeing you there, watching me play for the first time since…in a long time, made me realize how much I’ve missed you.”
“Guess you got some sense knocked into you then,” Sam chuckles as he carefully cards a hand through Dean’s short hair, tenderly stroking his scalp.
“Guess so,” he smiles and leans into the touch.
~*~
They spend the holidays re-bonding, catching up on the missed sex, and, true to the Christmas and New Year’s time, with loads of great food and candy.
It's the second week of January when Sam is painfully made aware of the truth. A truth Dean has already accepted and now simply enjoys. If he were a better brother he would have talked to Sam, instead of leaving snacks laying around or providing tremendous amounts of food but he figured as long as his little brother felt comfortable there wasn’t really a need to, besides it was holiday season. It’s not like Sam wouldn’t notice the changes in his own body. But apparently he didn’t or rather made use of Dean’s favourite method of coping: denial. At least until it comes to bite him in the ass.
“Fuck,” Dean hears his brother mutter. When he steps into their bedroom, he almost bursts out laughing. But only almost, because even though the sight he’s presented with is utterly ridiculous, it’s also pretty hot how Sam is laying flat on his back, shirtless to Dean’s delight, struggling to get his pants zipped up, his belly even in this position slightly higher than the rest of his body.
“Need a hand?” Dean chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorframe. Sam nearly falls off the bed in shock.
“Dean, shit,” He snaps as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, his belly nice and round, but the tease is turning it away from him. “Uh, no. I’m good.”
“You sure?” Dean asks, stepping around the bed so he faces Sam again.
“Yeah, I don’t need a hand.”
“Right,” he grins. “What you need, my brother, are some new pants.”
Sam blushes and looks away for a second, but quickly pulls himself back together, shooting Dean a defiant glower. “No need. I’m gonna work it off.”
“Sure. You can come with me to practice.” He shrugs, and smirks inwardly because no matter how much ‘salad is real food’ Sam is trying to cover it up with, Dean can see that his little brother has come to like lazing around and pigging out.
“Uh, I mean after college. When I have more time…” He excuses himself lamely.
“Whatever you want, Sammy." He smiles at his brother, honestly this time, with no hidden thoughts. “I’m with you, whatever you decide to do about…” Trailing off, he waves a hand in a circling motion at Sam’s stomach. “But to be honest, I don’t mind it.”
“You don’t?” Sam peeks up at him, clearly expecting it to be another joke.
With a sigh, he admits to himself that he has to go chick-flick moment here. After all, he can show some solidarity since this is surely a very embarrassing situation for Sam. Taking a deep breath he says: “No, I don’t. Because I like you, because I love you, Sam. Which includes your belly. Not matter how much there is of it.” Now it’s his turn to look away, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, before he continues, “In fact I would like to like a little more of it.”
“You…” Sam huffs out an incredulous laugh and Dean looks back at him, afraid his admission threw Sam off, so he starts to ramble. “Of course only if you are okay with it, I wouldn’t want to force you, it’s your body after all and -“
“Dean!”
“Huh?”
“It’s okay.” Sam is smiling at him, and stands up, pants hanging open on his hips and Dean rakes his gaze over his brother’s well-rounded body, the muscles that were now padded over with softness. It’s got to be at least 20 pounds Sam has added since they settled down, probably even more, since he was a big guy.
“Really?” Dean asks, his mouth watering at the thought of how much Sam would be packing on if they were conscious of his weight gain.
“Yeah,” Sam responds, scratching sheepishly at his head.
“Great!” He exclaims, a huge smile stretching his lips while he grips his brother by the hips. “’Cause then I’ve got a present for you.”
“You do? What is it?” Sam is perking up with curiosity.
“You’ll see.” He smirks, and winks at him. “Why don’t you get out of these stupid jeans and I’ll be back in a minute?”
~*~
When Dean returns he has stripped down to nothing more than his boxers, and carries a tray with a bowl of popcorn, a sumptuous breakfast and a flat box balanced on top of it.
“Is that what I think it is?” Sam asks eagerly, sitting up a little straighter against the headboard.
“It is,” Dean confirms, putting down the tray on the side of the bed.
“Awesome, thank you!”
In the last second, Dean pulls the box of pralines away from Sam’s grabby fingers. “Not so fast, Sammy.”
Motioning his pouting brother to scoot forward a little, Dean squeezes himself between the headboard and Sam, both shifting around until Sam is resting comfortably between Dean’s legs, leaning with his back against his chest.
Dean pops open the carton and picks out the first piece of chocolate. “Open up,” he commands playfully and Sam happily obeys.
Feeding his brother with one hand, he spreads the other over Sam’s bulging middle, feeling the soft flesh pressing ever so slightly against his fingers with every breath his brother takes. It’s like his brother’s growing stomach is begging to be touched. Now that they have come clean and he’s finally free to caress Sam’s oh-so-soft belly, he can’t stop, so when there’s no food left and Sam is pliant, satisfied and full in his arms, Dean’s second hand joins the first. Splaying both over the swell of Sam’s middle he lets them rest there, fingers slightly digging into the warmth that presses against them. Dean contentedly relaxes under Sam’s weight and enjoys just feeling and holding his brother.
2
It’s been 4 months, a lot of clothes and approximately 80 pounds since they started to indulge their passion.
Dean quit basketball and limited himself to football, which meant only two days of practice instead of four and not two but just one game a weekend, some weeks even less. All to have more time he could spend with Sam. And they sure made good use of it. They went out for dinner, to see a movie or whatever they were in the mood for, being brothers or being lovers. What Sam enjoyed most, though, were the quiet evenings at home, when they would just hang out with the TV on and there was a big, delicious meal cooked with love by his brother for him to devour. Often he’d be so full that he had to sleep it off a little before they could even think about sex. But then, when they actually got to doing it, it was mind-blowing. Each and every time.
Everything was going great.
Or at least that’s what Sam had thought until now. His brother has apparently lost his mind.
“Look!” Dean says, smiling like a five year old, and while Sam usually finds it adorable, in moments like this it freaks him out. “Swim trunks, Sammy.”
“I can see that, Dean,” he responds, overly-calm and focused in case any sudden movement might spook his brother.
“They're a present for you. I bet your old ones don’t fit anymore.” The unspoken ‘especially after your birthday feast two days ago’ is written clearly in the smirk of Dean’s eyes.
“What would I need them for?” Yeah, he knows college education and all that should make him a little more capable in situations like these, but this is Dean and one of his crazy ideas.
“Duh, the public outdoor pools opened yesterday. We’re going.”
“Uh…no?”
“Uh…yes?” Dean retorts and takes a step towards him, placing his hands on the side of Sam’s rounded belly. “Come on, Sammy,” he pleads, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he gently caresses Sam’s engorged middle. “Wanna see you…”
“Dean…” he pants and grips his brother’s arms to stop their movements. If Dean would slip his hands just a little lower, to the underside of his belly, then they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon, except for the bed or whatever flat surface was nearest. “You see me everyday, we have a bathtub…”
“It’s not big enough,” Dean cuts him short and squeezes his love handles hard, making him gasp. “Also,” Dean continues with a smug grin. “I’ve heard the store or diner or whatever they have there makes the best and biggest fries.”
“You know I prefer a healthy salad,” he deadpans but his stomach growls eagerly at the thought of one or two helpings of tasty potato sticks and they both chuckle.
“Liar!” Dean smirks and pinches him in the side. “Think of laying in the sun, me feeding you one after another and a nice pool to cool off in.” Dean steps closer again, voice husky and suggestive and Sam can feel his brother’s ripped abs press and rub against his fleshy bump, before Dean pulls his head down for a kiss.
“Alright,” he pants out, his mind and body on sensory overload and once again Sam guesses that his belly and especially the area from his navel down, has actually become more sensitive than his cock. Besides there isn’t really any serious objection to Dean’s plan in the first place. Quite the opposite, Sam thought it was a nice idea but for Dean to bring it up had been a little out of the left field, since it was usually him who suggested that they did something other than going to a bar or to see a movie.
~*~
Once they're at the pool they find themselves a somewhat secluded spot beneath a tree and lay down their blanket. It's a bit of a walk from the three available pools but they decide it doesn't matter. They were going to eat first since it was already late noon, and then laze around in the warm sun until the place would hopefully clear somewhat of all the families by afternoon.
“Good?” Dean asks from behind him, as Sam looks over at the people buzzing around, at the kids laughing and running with ice-cream. Sam feels his brother rest his cheek between his shoulder blades and strong arms sling around his midriff, hands splaying on top of his gigantic bulge.
“Yeah,” he mumbles and leans back into Dean.
“But I’m guessing you would feel even better without this…” Sam hears his brother say and suddenly Dean’s hands stroke up, over his belly and chest until they find the first button and start to open his large, dark red button down shirt.
“You’re guessing right,” he says with a low voice and a smile, and he lets his brother undress him, Dean’s hands always dipping beneath his shirt to gently brush his knuckles over the broadening expanse of soft, bare skin before he works open the next button.
When Dean is finished, Sam turns around and enjoys how Dean takes his time moving his hands beneath the shirt, over his belly, up to his chest and shoulders, to finally push the shirt off of him.
Dean turns around to put it away and Sam uses the opportunity to adjust his pants. His big and fleshy stomach dips slightly over the waistband but despite its size it still stands out in front of him, taut and round and Sam is proud to see that it continues to seemingly defy gravity.
“Did I tell you how fucking hot you look in those trunks?”
“About a hundred times,” Sam mumbles sheepishly, trying for casual and failing as he looks up from underneath his bangs to see his brother, standing a few feet from him, gazing him up and down appraisingly.
Even if Dean hadn’t said anything, the heat in his eyes would have been enough to let Sam know that his brother more than approved of the sight he offered. He hadn’t expected it to be true to anyone but Dean when his brother first held out the pair of black trunks with the white orchid printed on one leg, but as it turns out they are really nice. He had tried them on at their apartment, fearing that Dean would want him to squeeze into a pair that was way too tight, which was maybe a delight for his brother but certainly would have been embarrassing for him if he would have let himself got caught in public.
Dean surprisingly though, had bought a pair that fit. And how it fit. Tight in all the right places, hugging his ass, accentuating the firm globes without the waistband digging painfully into his hips and also being comfortably loose around his meaty thighs, reaching down to just over his knees. If he's honest he would have jerked off to his reflection if Dean hadn’t been waiting, more than annoyed for being shut out of the bathroom. Feeling a little guilty, he decided to give his brother more credit. At least until Dean made him do something again because he thinks it is hot, not caring if it’s awfully embarrassing for Sam.
“That’s got to be the most times I’ve told the truth in one day,” Dean says with a smirk and reaches out to place a hand against his soft belly again. And their friends say he’s the insatiable one, when Dean can’t stop touching him. Not that he’s complaining.
“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” Dean informs him, chuckling after Sam’s stomach gurgles and Sam’s face heats up, sure that Dean must have felt it beneath his palm.
“You do that, but first…” he says, forcing the blush down with a smirk, “this goes off.” Grabbing the hem of Dean’s shirt, he pulls it over his brother’s head and tosses it to the side. “There, better,” he laughs and hungrily takes in the perfectly sculpted figure of his brother. Dean says Sam looks hot in his new trunks and while he won’t deny it, in his eyes Dean is the real walking sin, leading even the finest man into temptation.
“You can’t get enough, huh?” Dean says with a wink, before he wanders off. He throws a cocky glance over his shoulder, playfully wiggling his hips when he’s out of reach, because Sam would have smacked him on the ass. Sam feels the welcome, familiar warmth spread inside him that always fills him when he is reminded of how well Dean knows him.
“Never enough of you, Dean,” he mumbles under his breath and sits down on the blanket with one hand resting on his enormous gut, a black hole yearning to be filled by his brother.
~*~
When Dean comes back, Sam leans forward a little from where he’s rested against the tree, having to spread his legs a little further to make room for his gut.
“Only two?” He asks, a little disappointed, when Dean sets down the two servings of fries and the cup of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream.
“Actually, only one. The other is for me, but if you’re nice I might just let you have half of mine,” Dean says and sits down behind Sam, pulling him in against his chest. “We can grab as much as you want later and I’m gonna fill you up so good, but I want you to come into the pool with me first, so one serving it is.”
Releasing a fake annoyed sigh, Sam leans back against his brother’s broad and strong chest, amazed at how Dean still loves sitting in this position, not once complaining about Sam becoming too heavy for it. “Well, at least you brought ice-cream,” he breathes out and picks up the fries. “Feed me?”
“Bitchy, much?” Dean chuckles but takes the food from him nonetheless. He rests his forearm where Sam’s stomach starts to bulge widely outwards, holding the fries while he picks one that’s heavily covered in ketchup and nudges it against Sam’s lips.
Happily he opens up and lets his brother fill him with food, every once in a while sucking Dean’s fingers between his lips to lick them clean and get an extra taste of his brother, eliciting a pleased moan from Dean whenever he does.
This way they go through their meal, a growl escaping him when Dean teases him, pulling back the food he’s holding out just when Sam is about to close his mouth around it, only to pop it into his own. When he turns his head to glare at his brother, he sees Dean cocking an eyebrow, his mischievous smirk in place before he leans down to press an apologetic kiss on his lips and Sam can never hold a grudge after that.
In the end he’s eaten most of the fries and the ice-cream anyway; Dean wouldn’t have it any other way. Relaxing back with a content sigh and slight burp, Sam splays his hands on his stomach.
“Don’t tell me you’re full already?” Dean asks and soon his hands join Sam’s. He can’t help but push his belly out a little further, longing to feel Dean’s skilled fingers press into his fleshy globe, itching for the sensation a massage of Dean’s calloused palms provides.
“Not really, but you were right. I want to come into the water with you without getting sick.” Sam almost moans and squirms in his brother’s arms, arching his back as much as he can, intensifying the pressure Dean uses to rub his belly. Dean massages and kneads the soft flesh, pushes his bulge down and pulls it up only to stop all his movement to just cup Sam’s gut in his hands, holding its heavy weight, and it nearly drives Sam insane.
“Lower,” he pleads, cock half hard in his trunks, because Dean has apparently decided to be a tease, dipping nothing more than his pinkie fingers lower than Sam’s belly button and even then barely long enough for him to gasp, his member twitching eagerly, before it's gone again. “Dean, please, touch me.”
“Jesus, Sammy, we’re in public,” Dean says with mock indignation, squeezing the pliable love handles poking out at Sam’s side. “I’m not gonna pull your big cock out for everyone to see. To see how it strains against your fucking perfect belly.”
“Dean!” He whines. While he would like some attention on his cock, it’s not what he meant, and he knows that Dean knows it too.
“All mine,” Dean breathes seductively into his ear, splaying his hands possessively over the expanse of Sam’s stomach, pressing in, pulling him closer, fingers digging deep into the squashy flesh.
“If you don’t…” he gasps, “then stop.” Gathering all his willpower, he manages to grab Dean’s wrist and effectively still his movements, but now there are two pair of hands sunken deep into his enormous middle. He can feel his belly press against them with every breath he takes, and it feels so amazing that his further protests are forgotten. Soon his breathing becomes deeper and he holds the air in a little longer on every outward push of his abdomen.
“Fuck,” Dean huffs and lets his head fall forward on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re… Shit, Sam…” He curls in around Sam, his thighs and arms tightening their hold on him and Sam senses his fingers twitch, feeling Dean’s pulse going fast beneath the grip he still has on his wrists. “What you do to me…”
Before Sam can respond, the moment is suddenly broken when a beach ball lands on the ground a couple of feet in front of them and rolls further until it stops by the edge of their blanket. Seeing it as an opportunity to get himself back together, Sam untangles himself from Dean’s arms, ignoring the whiny protest and gets on his knees.
“Can you throw me the ball, mister? Please,” a boy calls over the small hedge that had somewhat hid them from fleeting gazes. Sam nods with a smile and picks the ball up, throwing it almost too far but to know that he’s not just a wobbly blob of meat, that he still has some strength left in him, pleases him immensely. “Thank you!” The boy shouts before he runs off, the toy safely back in his arms.
“Nice kid, don’t you think?” Sam asks and throws a soft smile over his shoulders. Dean has some predatory gleam in his eyes though, so Sam quickly drops the topic. Might not be the best opportunity to talk to Dean right now in regards to the matter he’d been thinking about for a while.
“I’m gonna…” take a shower, he wants to say instead and has already lifted to one foot, but Dean suddenly slings an arm around him and splays his hand over the underside of his belly pinning him into place just like that. “Fuck,” he groans and ‘finally’, he thinks as he falls back on his ass, his dick straining rock hard against his trunks. A guttural moan bubbles up from deep inside him when he realizes, that even through the fabric, he feels the head of his cock push against Dean’s hand. Dean’s hand, which is now pressed tightly into his lap by his heavy, rounded, fleshy globe that is bulging out eager and greedily in front of him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dean whispers in his ear, wiggling his fingers in their trap of soft, pliable flesh.
“Dean…” His brother’s name is all he can moan, not daring to move, afraid to lose the amazing sensation of his brother’s hand being completely surrounded by him. Now he really needs a cold shower. Or to get off, ASAP. And then a shower. He could get on board with that, too.
“Tell me,” Dean orders, pushing down on Sam’s gut with his other hand, pressing it even further against his other.
“Shit…” Sam gasps, his belly jiggling and his head lolls back against Dean’s shoulder. "Shower,” he finally manages to mumble.
“Not yet,” Dean says and starts to kiss down his exposed neck, nibbling and licking whatever flesh he can pull between his teeth. He begins to slowly rub his belly, stroking up and down and around it or moving in caressing circles, making it feel like his hand is everywhere, as if Dean somehow manages to cover his gigantic belly completely with one touch and Sam wishes to keep this feeling forever. Suddenly, the hand Dean’s still got under his belly moves and squeezes its way inside Sam’s shorts, pushing the fabric down enough to wrap it around his erection and pull it free.
“Thought…” Sam’s breath hitches from arousal when his cock head pokes against the underside of his belly. Dean relentlessly strokes him up and down in the confined space, his brother’s fist bumping against his stomach over and over again, causing it to rise and eventually fall back against his dick on every down stroke of his brother’s hand. “Thought you didn’t want to…” he breathes through the haze of pleasure.
“Changed my mind,” Dean retorts shortly, flicking his tongue just below Sam’s earlobe and at the same time flicks his thumb over the head of his dick on an upward stroke, fingernail scratching over his overly-sensitive lower abdomen. He barely manages to bury his head against Dean’s neck to muffle his shout as he comes hard into his brother’s hand, come splattering the underside of his belly.
Sam shakes in his brother’s arms, while Dean strokes and gently coaxes him through his orgasm, muttering affections in his ear. They stay like this until even the last ripple of his flab has ceased and only his stomach rises and falls heavily as he attempts to catch his breath.
When he’s finally coherent enough, realization of where they are comes back and he struggles to straighten up, but exhaustion and an enormous gut in his way only leave him wheezing. “Gotta… clean up…” he pants. “If some-“
“Won’t matter, Sammy,” Dean interrupts him, patting his gut adoringly. “No one will see anything.”
“Shit,” he chuckles, looking up at his brother. “I’m already that big?”
“Yeah,” Dean says and kisses him deep. “Does it bother you?”
“Not at all.” He lets out a contented sigh. “Anyway, I’d still like to clean up before it gets all sticky.”
“Alright,” Dean groans, reluctantly pulling his come-painted hand out from beneath Sam’s belly, and they both moan softly. He removes himself from his position behind Sam. “Lay down,” he advises after he casts a quick glance over his shoulder, checking that no one is around, and Sam complies, stretching himself out on their blanket while he watches Dean rummage through their bag with his clean hand until he comes up with a towel. Cleaning his hand, Dean straddles Sam’s thighs and looks down at him.
Sam finds himself automatically responding to Dean’s appraising smiles until something hits him.
“What about you?” He asks, feeling bad for only now noticing that he didn’t get his brother off.
“Oh, don’t worry, Sammy. Saving it for later,” he says with his best cocky smirk, cupping himself through his swim trunks. “I’m gonna fill you up till you burst.”
“Yeah, good, okay.” Sam breathes, and nods, mesmerized by the love he can see in Dean’s green eyes as his brother starts to work on cleaning him up. Gently Dean strokes over the underside of his belly, before softly removing the come that’s still smeared around his now flaccid cock and eventually tucks it safely away in his trunks.
“There, all good,” Dean says and lets the waistband snap back into place, making Sam’s stomach jiggle slightly.
“Hey,” he huffs annoyed and places both hands on the massive mount of flesh to stop the movement.
Dean laughs, and flops down on the blanket as well. “You should shower though. There are some stains on your trunks I can’t get out.”
“Uh huh…” he mumbles and turns his head to look at Dean, who's laying on his side next to him, propped up on his elbow. Reaching out with one hand, he picks Dean’s free arm and places it around his middle.
“So perfectly gorgeous,” Dean mutters absentmindedly, as he begins to trace idle paths with his fingers on the generous outwards curve of Sam’s belly.
Sam smiles happily. He closes his eyes and enjoys the leisured atmosphere that has settled over them.
Before long, however, Dean does nudge him in the side.
“Come on, Sammy. Time for a shower.”
He huffs at being disturbed, but sits up nonetheless. “Are you coming with me?”
“Nah. Who’s gonna watch our stuff?” Dean drawls lazily and rolls onto his back, eyes closed as he keeps on bathing in the sun.
“Fine, you lazy bastard,” he says, but his voice lacks heat. To be honest, he’s glad Dean’s resting a bit. His brother mainly limits his downtime to when he’s feeding Sam. While he’d love to go for some steamy sex in the shower, he’s content to leave Dean be for now in anticipation of the wild night of sex laying ahead of him, when they’ll return home later, both well rested and relaxed.
Dean just grins sleepily at him and Sam heads of to the showers, smiling softly to himself.
He picks one of the few shower stalls, closes the door behind himself and steps out of his shorts.
He takes his time rinsing out the wet - turning white - spots and enjoys the feeling of the little bit of belly that is now freely hanging down; just enough that its weight is like a constant, feather-light touch to the base of his cock. He felt it first about two weeks ago. The smooth, big and round globe that he is proud is still mostly standing out in front of him is growing even wider, straining towards his cock.
Sam thinks about jerking off, but then he hears someone enter the cubicle next to him and decides against it. Instead he pulls his swim trunks back on and heads back to join his brother on the blanket.
When he finds Dean sound asleep, mouth slightly opened, Sam feels a smile of affection tug on his lips. As carefully as possible he lays down next to him on the blanket.
“Sammy?” Dean murmurs and blinks. Quickly he cups Dean’s cheek, and caresses it with his thumb. It works every time, his brother's gone back to sleep before Sam can even tell him to go back to sleep.
For a while he enjoys the peaceful view - even after a year of nearly no hunting, Sam still considers it special.
At some point, he takes out one of his study books and reads the chapter he’s assigned to. Dean, closet octopus he is, is snuggled close to his side and has an arm thrown over his lap.
Not until the daylight around him starts to dim, and it’s become a lot quieter, does Sam notice how much time has passed. It’s past 5, so he puts his book away and gently cards a hand through Dean’s short hair.
Tenderly, Sam massages Dean’s scalp with his finger tips, coaxing him from sleep. His brother stirs a little and actually lets out something close to a purr. Sam really doesn’t mean to, but he just can’t help laughing. It’s just too good of ammunition and later he’ll definitely try to get this very un-manly sound from a very awake Dean.
His amusement does the trick, although a little more roughly than his original approach, when his whole body trembles in the attempt to suppress the laughter and his belly shakes, nudging Dean’s shoulder until he’s awake.
“The hell?” Dean grumbles and sits up, rubbing his eyes with a fist, adorably similar to a five year old, and Sam’s chuckles ebb away into a loving smile.
“What?” His brother says confused, voice still sleep-muffled, but Sam just shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Whatever, freak,” Dean huffs, clearly thrown off-balance, but from the way he turns his head, trying to hide a blush, Sam knows his brother has picked up on the affection in his eyes.
“Look,” he says and throws an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “It’s cleared out a little, the pool is closing in under two hours, so what do you say we grab our stuff and head over, see if there’s a free spot near the water?”
“Yeah, good idea.”
~*~
They do indeed find themselves an empty bench, right next to the pool with the high dive.
Dean stashes their stuff under the bench and throws their towels over it before they head of to the 5 foot deep pool in the middle from where they still can keep on eye on everything, just in case.
Once in the water, Sam lets himself float, relishing the weightlessness the water offers him. That is, until Dean decides to dunk his head in the water.
There are only a few people in the pool besides them, most of the other guests laying somewhere letting the last sun rays dry them off, so there’s plenty of space for him and Dean to goof around without disturbing anyone.
Coming up, spluttering water and curses and maybe laughter, Sam tackles Dean. He goes for the wrestling match Dean aimed at, throwing all his weight at his brother and pulls him down. In an all-but-subtle way, Dean uses every chance he gets to grab and hold onto Sam, trying to wrap his arms and legs around Sam’s body or digging his fingers for purchase into the soft flesh.
He loves it, loves how this is just about fun, about being close to each other with the potential to go further, but neither of them in a hurry to get there. So, Sam might not be all that subtle about just pretending to try and get away from Dean’s grabby hands himself.
~*~
“Gotcha,” he laughs, slightly breathless.
Sam has both his hands planted on the edge of the pool, effectively caging his brother in.
Dean just grins lazily up at him, pulling him closer until Sam’s belly rubs tightly against Dean’s firm and ripped abdomen.
It’s one of Sam’s favorite sensations, feeling their differences and from the looks of it Dean likes it as much as he does.
Enthusiastically, Sam leans forwards and slots their lips together in a passionate kiss. As he does, Dean sneaks his arms around him and Sam feels strong fingers cup the globes of his rounded ass, feels them starting to squeeze his butt in time with Dean’s tongue eagerly licking its way into Sam’s mouth.
Sam’s cock starts to take notice and he presses himself even closer to Dean, lost in their own little world. Before they get to take it anywhere though, the sound of laughter and young boys' feet running past them catapults them back in the here and now.
“Shit,” Dean chuckles and rests his forehead against Sam’s. “Damn brats… If they had at least been in their teens, I’d have said fuck it, let’s show them some good stuff.”
“Pervert,” he teases, but he knows Dean would be a great Dad, if it came down to it. His brother grins and pushes him slightly back so that he can pull himself up and out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool.
“You love it, baby,” Dean says with a smirk. “I say we get out of here. Grab some tasty dinner,” he drawls and toes Sam’s belly, making him squirm away and chuckle at the gentle tickling, “spend some quality time after this stressful day.”
Sam smiles and nods. “Yeah, sure. You go ahead, though. Gimme five more minutes, please?” The spacey pool is just too good. Their bathtub at home was already a tight fit when they moved in, and now that he’s increased in size even more there’s no way for him to take a truly relaxing bath in it. Throwing Dean his puppy eyes, Sam leans back until he’s floating in the water, moving his arms just enough to stay at the surface.
“’kay,” Dean says, licking his lips distractedly while his eyes are fixed on the peak of Sam’s belly which is proudly breeching the water's surface, reaching for the setting sun. Sam can’t help the smug smile when he sees Dean adjust himself in his trunks before he gets up. “I… uh… I’ll pack our stuff then.” Which Dean apparently forgot they hadn’t even unpacked.
Joyfully Sam watches Dean stumble his way to their bench, every few steps awkwardly throwing a glance back over his shoulder before he remembers he needs to look ahead if he doesn’t want to run into something. When Dean reaches their stuff he snatches a towel and roughly rubs it over his head.
Knowing Dean, it’s a desperate attempt to clear his head and calm his libido down, and Sam guesses Dean is calling him a tease and worse under his breath about now.
Not having it in him to torture his horny brother any longer, and himself for that matter because if he’s honest he’s not much better off, Sam makes his way out of the pool.
Doesn’t mean he can’t pull one last joke on his still distracted brother though, he thinks to himself when his eyes land on the high dive.
Stepping onto the one nearest to where Dean is still standing with his back to the pool, drying himself off, Sam runs along it and splash-dives hard into the water, hoping that at least everyone in a radius of 10 feet got hit by the water splatters.
Even muffled by the water around him, Sam can make out his brother's surprised yelp and some children’s laughter, tellling him that he’s succeeded.
Coming up with a bright grin, he sees the boys that rushed past them earlier, smiling and waving at him. “Awesome, man!” One calls and he waves back, wishing a boy of his and Dean's would be standing with them. Or maybe a girl. A girl would be nice, too, he thinks and imagines the over-protectiveness it would bring up in his big brother. Dean would deny it of course, but when she’d get older he’d probably sit awake, worrying until she’d returned safely from a party just to play it all cool in the end.
“Yeah, really awesome, Sam,” his brother’s sarcastic voice pulls him back from his thoughts and he turns around, swimming to the ladder leading out of the pool. Dean’s glaring at him, accusingly holding out the drenched towel in front of him, hair plastered against his forehead. There’s a hint of amusement in Dean’s eyes though, maybe a little pride that Sam managed to pull a prank on him, a prank Dean Winchester ‘Master-of-Disaster’ would fully approve of. Sam thinks he can even make out a tad bit of jealousy in his brother’s eyes, probably because Dean hadn’t come up with it himself.
Sam laughs heartily, as he climbs out of the pool, grabbing onto the hand his brother offers him. “Looks like you finally learned something from me,” Dean chuckles and Sam knows today is the right day to talk to Dean about getting kids. They were both in a good, a great mood, Dean is open and playful like he hasn’t been in a long time. Tonight, after they have a generous meal and some mind-blowing sex, when they lay in bed blissfully and relaxed, he'll bring it up. Not demand anything, just throw the idea into the room and let Dean wrap his head around it.
Who knows, maybe Dean will immediately be on board with it. After all, Dean is really good with kids, and no matter how hard he tries to be the no-chick-flick-moment, tough guy, Sam can see that his brother gets all gooey inside when a child is involved.
So, Sam thinks, it's a great topic to end a great day with.
“Dean?” Someone suddenly calls.
They both turn, hearing the voice just as they reach their stuff.
“Oh, hey, Luke,” Dean greets and turns to the blonde man leading the approaching group of three guys. Sam picks up a towel and starts to dry himself off, looking at the men that are all around his or Dean’s age. He’s met them before at a basketball game. They're on one of the local firefighter teams and have played one or two friendly matches against Dean’s team. This Luke guy, Dean had told him once, said it was a pity Sam wasn’t a fireman so that he could play for them. Sam had just smiled softly at that. He will never again play on a different team than his brother, even if they had the same goal.
“How nice of you,” Luke chuckles. “Doing charity work?”
“What do you mean?” Dean asks, with a confused frown that matched Sam’s own.
“Showing around your fat cousin,” the blonde man, as tall as Sam, points a thumb at him as if he weren’t even standing right there. Sam is too startled to react, but he sees the tension in Dean’s shoulders, the posture that tells Sam his brother is ready to punch the douchebag in his face. Luckily, Dean has learned that if you wanted to maintain a normal and steady life, you can’t go around knocking people out as you please.
Instead Dean clenches his teeth, calm for now, but Sam isn’t sure for how long. To be honest, even if he knows they shouldn’t pick a fight, he doesn’t care about it right now.
“Excuse me?” Dean grits.
“Shit, Luke.” A shorter guy, Carl or Kevin or something, sturdy with muscles, pulls his friend back at the shoulder to get his attention. “It’s not his cousin, man. That’s his boyfriend. That’s Sam.”
“What?” Luke’s head snaps back around and Sam feels his scrutinizing gaze sweep over his whole body. He has been looked at and stared at before by strangers, even gotten teased by his friends in college, who of course have noticed him changing, but that had been good-natured banter. Never had it felt this insulting. Feeling uncomfortably exposed, Sam grabs his shirt and starts to pull it over his body.
“No,” Dean suddenly shouts. “Don’t. Leave it off,” he says sternly and steps in front of him, pushing the fabric back down and off his shoulders. “You got nothing to be ashamed off, Sammy.”
Sam smiles thankfully at his brother, still self-conscious but there’s reassurance in Dean’s eyes. They haven’t run into a situation like this before, no one has ever cared that much about his looks. Although he didn't really expect any different, it’s good to actually know Dean is standing up for him even in this, that his brother isn’t ashamed of it now that it’s nastily dragged to the surface by some vain asshole.
“Fuck! So it’s true?” Luke gasps out.
“Shut up!” Dean yells and swirls around, fists clenched at his side.
“Yeah, man, leave them alone.” Luke’s friends advise him, but apparently he is on a roll.
“Don’t tell me you like that…all that…” Luke waves incredulously at Sam, but Dean quickly steps in front of him, shielding him as if Luke will attack any moment.
“None of your fucking business.” Dean is fuming now, and Sam is seriously considering not stopping his brother if he decides to get violent. Hell, he’ll probably throw in a punch himself.
“Shit, man…” Luke shakes his head, finally addressing him directly. “We saw each other like 9 months ago? Something like that? I can’t believe I once wished you would have been able to play on our team.” Turning back to Dean, he says, “What are you giving him to eat, dude?”
There’s an audible swallow coming from Dean. Angry and tense, he becomes an open book, it all gets laid bare and judging by the change of expression on Luke’s face, he catches on.
“Fuck, you…you’re feeding, him? Like a pig?” Disgust drips from his tone and Sam can't help the involuntary flinch at the spiteful comparison. By now even the faces of the two other guys have scrunched up into disbelieving frowns.
“He’s not, okay? Just leave us alone, dude,” Sam tries. He speaks up, for the first and for the last time. If Luke doesn’t drop it, fists will fly.
Of course, Luke doesn’t get it, instead he actually continues. “That’s sick, man. You guys are fucking sick.”
Dean is on him in a flash. It’s not the pissed-off beating Sam expected, though. Not the angry bar brawl punches Sam would have gladly let his brother execute. No, his brother is using his hunter skills and that shocks him more than the insults. He can’t let Dean do this, can’t risk Dean beating the hell out of this guy or even worse. They don’t need to have to deal with a lawsuit now that their records are clean.
Grabbing Dean by the shoulders he pulls him away, just as the other guys get a hold of Luke, but the two fighting men already landed some hits. Dean’s lower lip is split, Luke’s right eye is swelling shut already and a red line of blood gushes out of his nose.
“Fuck,” Luke snarls, brushing it away with the back of his hand. Dean just smirks, grimly satisfied, tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lip.
Sam hastily grabs their stuff and pushes Dean in the direction of the exit. “Come on, let’s just go.”
“Don’t even fucking think of calling us when you need someone to tear down your walls because your boyfriend doesn’t fit through the fucking door anymore!” Luke shouts after them.
“I’m gonna rip him apart,” Dean grits and stops walking, but in the last moment Sam manages to grab his shoulders, keeping him from turning around again. “He’s not worth it, Dean. Come on, I wanna go.”
Dean glares for a moment, but then nods and lets himself be maneuvered further to the exit. Sam has slung an arm around his shoulders, for one to prevent Dean from anymore lashing out but also to keep them both grounded.
Luke yells once more, so loud that even the last people that haven’t yet followed their fight turn their head. Beneath his hands Sam feels Dean’s already tense body stiffen further and freeze to the spot at the gruesome boding that pierces the air.
“You’re killing him, Dean!”