“That,” Dean said as he struggled to get air into his lungs. “Is how you do Thanksgiving, Sammy.”
“Well we certainly got our money’s worth you can’t argue that,” Sam stated as he surveyed the empty plates on the table. There were a few sides left but no turkey, gravy or dessert, Dean had made sure of that. The elder Winchester had plowed through the meal eating his portion as well as the bulk of what the restaurant had intended for two others.
Sam tossed a generous tip onto the table as the waitress had been kind enough to indulge Dean making sure that his three slices of pie were extra large. He then got out of the booth and grabbed his jacket. “Come on,” he continued. “We should get back and look into that case in Iowa.”
Dean didn’t move. Instead he rested his hand along the top of his belly. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” he said with a grunt.
“It’s been a half hour...” Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on Dean’s stomach and the way that the table was cutting into it. Dean had taken his time getting into the booth but Sam had thought nothing of it at the time. “You’re stuck aren’t you?”
“No!” Dean shouted defensively. He groaned for a moment and the dishes clanged on the table as Dean’s belly pushed harder into it. “Yes.”
Sam covered his mouth not sure if he wanted to laugh or gasp or shake his head. His big brother had stuffed himself so much he was wedged in the booth. “Do you need help?”
Dean shot Sam an annoyed look and wiggled unsuccessfully a bit more before he nodded with a loud huff.
Sam rearranged some of the dishes on the table so that they were farther away from Dean’s gut not wanting any sudden movements to send them flying. He reached for Dean’s arm and gave him a few tugs which barely made him budge. “Can you suck it in,” Sam asked trying to help.
“I am sucking it in,” Dean nearly snapped as he grunted in discomfort. He really was getting so fat.
Sam took a step back to assess the situation. “Okay,” he said. “You’re not going to like this but I think it’ll get you out.”
Dean nodded at Sam in silent approval and the younger Winchester made his move. He ran his hand over the bulge of Dean’s belly almost comfortingly at first like he was preparing it for what to come. He then pushed his palm into Dean’s fleshy middle with one hand. Dean really was stuffed to capacity and tight like a drum causing Sam to meet more resistance than he thought he would but it created just enough space to allow one good pull and soon Dean was stumbling out of the booth almost knocking Sam over in the process.
“Next year,” Dean gasped while rubbing his poor abused belly. “We’re sitting at a table.”
“That,” Dean said as he struggled to get air into his lungs. “Is how you do Thanksgiving, Sammy.”
“Well we certainly got our money’s worth you can’t argue that,” Sam stated as he surveyed the empty plates on the table. There were a few sides left but no turkey, gravy or dessert, Dean had made sure of that. The elder Winchester had plowed through the meal eating his portion as well as the bulk of what the restaurant had intended for two others.
Sam tossed a generous tip onto the table as the waitress had been kind enough to indulge Dean making sure that his three slices of pie were extra large. He then got out of the booth and grabbed his jacket. “Come on,” he continued. “We should get back and look into that case in Iowa.”
Dean didn’t move. Instead he rested his hand along the top of his belly. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” he said with a grunt.
“It’s been a half hour...” Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on Dean’s stomach and the way that the table was cutting into it. Dean had taken his time getting into the booth but Sam had thought nothing of it at the time. “You’re stuck aren’t you?”
“No!” Dean shouted defensively. He groaned for a moment and the dishes clanged on the table as Dean’s belly pushed harder into it. “Yes.”
Sam covered his mouth not sure if he wanted to laugh or gasp or shake his head. His big brother had stuffed himself so much he was wedged in the booth. “Do you need help?”
Dean shot Sam an annoyed look and wiggled unsuccessfully a bit more before he nodded with a loud huff.
Sam rearranged some of the dishes on the table so that they were farther away from Dean’s gut not wanting any sudden movements to send them flying. He reached for Dean’s arm and gave him a few tugs which barely made him budge. “Can you suck it in,” Sam asked trying to help.
“I am sucking it in,” Dean nearly snapped as he grunted in discomfort. He really was getting so fat.
Sam took a step back to assess the situation. “Okay,” he said. “You’re not going to like this but I think it’ll get you out.”
Dean nodded at Sam in silent approval and the younger Winchester made his move. He ran his hand over the bulge of Dean’s belly almost comfortingly at first like he was preparing it for what to come. He then pushed his palm into Dean’s fleshy middle with one hand. Dean really was stuffed to capacity and tight like a drum causing Sam to meet more resistance than he thought he would but it created just enough space to allow one good pull and soon Dean was stumbling out of the booth almost knocking Sam over in the process.
“Next year,” Dean gasped while rubbing his poor abused belly. “We’re sitting at a table.”
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