Brotherly Love Ch. 3

[deedwithoutname]

The water was really freaking cold. I had been under it for five minutes already, and my toes were going blue, as were a couple other key parts of my anatomy. But I stayed where I was, head bowed and hands clenched into fists. I tried not to even shiver.

I'd gotten up before Sam on purpose. I didn't want to look at him. I was still too weirded out by what had happened last night, and the effect he'd had on me. Not to mention the fact that I wanted, more than anything, to stuff him again. This wasn't normal. Okay, maybe the kink itself could be considered kind of normal, but the maybe-attraction to my brother definitely wasn't. Where had that even come from? I knew I wasn't gay. I'd always been into girls, and I'd only ever had sex with girls. And I'd never been into the whole incest thing.

My teeth were chattering, and my feet had gone numb. I turned off the water.

Someone knocked on the door as I was wrapping a towel around my waist. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply.

"Go away, Sam," I yelled without turning around.

I heard tools clicking in the lock on the bathroom door, and then it swung open. Goddamn it. I never should have taught him to pick locks.

"We need to talk."

"Damn right, we need to talk," I muttered, turning around with my head lowered. So I wouldn't have to look him in the eye. "But not right now. I've gotta go...away."

I tried to brush past him, but he grabbed my arm. Sam's hand was warm against my skin after the ice water of the shower, and you better believe I hated myself for noticing that.

"No, you don't." He pulled me out of the bathroom, and made me face him. I focused on the collar of his shirt-it was about eye level. Wow, that made me feel better.

"Okay, so, what's up?" I tried to sound upbeat.

"What's up is that last night you basically-"

Somebody knocked on the door, and Sam immediately shut up. I glanced at it, then back to him.

"Dude, you gotta get that. I'm naked."

"Fine. Wait here." He shoved an open hand in my face in the universal "stay" signal. I rolled my eyes.

Where did he think I was gonna go? Out the window?

Speaking of which, I drew the curtains and made myself decent while Sam talked to whoever was at the door. I tuned in to their conversation while I pulled a T-shirt on.

"There's gotta be some mistake. We didn't order anything."

A pause. I couldn't make out the reply, just a low murmur.

"But he's not my-wait, what? Why on earth would they do that?"

More murmuring.

"Well...I guess tell them thank you. From me and my..." He shot a look at me over his shoulder. "...boyfriend."

I winced.

There was a rattle of cutlery, and Sam stepped back from the door with a pretty big tray in his hands. There were four domes on it, as well as two pitchers, a pot, and several mugs and glasses. He set it down heavily on the table. Last night's tray was gone, weirdly enough.

"Uh..." I gestured to it, and looked at him questioningly.

"Somebody paid for a small breakfast to be sent to our room. They wanted to remain anonymous." He shook his head. "That's a small breakfast?"

"Well, what's under there?" I asked, reaching for one of the domes.

"Wait." Sam put a hand on my shoulder, and I had to look at him. "Last night..."

"Oh, God..." I complained, starting to turn away.

"No. Look at me," he commanded, shaking me a little. I did. "What happened-"

"Do we have to talk about this now?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, Dean, we do," he snapped, starting to get pissed. "I don't even know how to classify what you did to me, but it felt way too much like ra-"

"Hey, I distinctly remember you asking for it," I snapped back, pushing Sam's hand off of me.

"Yeah, I know. I wasn't-I wasn't thinking clearly." He pushed his fingers up through his hair.

"Drugs in the food?" I suggested.

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain you," he replied pointedly.

I pressed my lips together, exhaling loudly through my nose.

"Okay," I said, mostly to myself. "Okay. Let's test this."

"Excuse me?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Take a bite of whatever's under one of those." I nodded towards the domes. "I wanna test a theory."

"Are you nuts?" he exclaimed. "I'm not eating in front of you after what happened last time."

"Just do it, Sam," I said quietly.

He glared at me, glanced away, and glanced back. His mouth hardened, and he turned to the tray.

He whipped one of the domes off, to reveal a stack of assorted donuts. I shrugged when he looked at me, and jerked my chin towards them. He picked one up and took a big bite out of it, keeping an eye on me while he chewed. I shook my head.

"You're really paranoid."

"I think I have a right to be, considering that you practically assaulted me."

"Okay, again, you asked for it, and you're twenty-three. It was consensual."

"Please. Just...stop talking." Sam shoved the rest of the donut in his mouth, holding up his hands. "There. Did whatever magical thing you were waiting for happen?" He jerked out a chair and sat in it backwards, folding one arm on the back as he reached for another donut.

"No, not really-whoa. Sam, what are you doing?"

He had crammed the second donut in his mouth, and was reaching for a third. I watched as he ate both of them, then grabbed a fourth. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"What? I'm hungry."

The back of the chair had a hole cut in it, for decoration or something, and I could see his stomach. Was it just me, or was his shirt looking a little tighter?

I abruptly turned and strode towards the door, before anything freaky could happen. "I'm leaving."

"Dean, wait." Sam's voice was muffled with food."

I glanced back at him, one hand on the doorknob. "So five minutes ago you didn't want me anywhere near you and now you can't bear the thought of me leaving?"

"Look. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. But please. Stay."

Against my better judgement, I took my hand off the knob and, slowly, walked back to him.

I must have been thrown head-first through one-too-many walls.

I pulled out a chair and sat down next to him as he ate. I wanted to hate him for the thoughts that were going through my head, but I couldn't. I couldn't even hate myself-my feelings had gotten too primal for that. I just wanted release.

So I watched my brother stuff himself, and I didn't even try to hide that I liked it. He switched his position on the chair, so that he was sitting normally, halfway through the donuts. He didn't even stop eating to do it. I watched his belly grow, to a slight bulge that lifted his shirt up. He popped the last donut in his mouth and leaned back with a small burp.

I swallowed hard. Telling myself that Sam was another guy, that he was my brother and I'd held him when he was a newborn and changed his diapers and fought with him over girls, did zip to calm me down. Hell, maybe I didn't even want to calm down anymore. Maybe I just wanted to stuff Sam to his limits and watch him grow.

"Hey, Sammy. Are you full?" I asked quietly, looking over at him.

"Yeah, you could say that." He watched me warily, but also...eagerly.

"Nah, I think you could eat a little more." I stood up, and lifted the dome off a second plate. Pancakes. Perfect.

"I don't-"

I cut him off by shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. His eyes widened. I leaned forward, and kept feeding him, barely giving him time to breathe. He got fuller and fuller, his shirt riding up and his jeans down. I put a hand on his stuffed stomach, and smiled, feeling it tremble with every bite I forced on him.

But I wasn't forcing it all the way. He ate every forkful I put in his mouth, obedient and willing.

I stood up and stepped back once the pancakes were gone, taking a look at what I'd done. Sam was slumped and panting in his chair, his belly completely uncovered. It was round and bulging, maybe even bigger than it had been last night, and packed with rich foods. He almost looked weighed down by it.

I crouched in front of him, unable to keep myself from grinning. He was just so stuffed. So heavy with food.

"Do you want more?" I asked in a low voice.

"No," he gasped. "God, no. No more, Dean."

I stood up, and stroked his swollen belly. He shuddered. I couldn't tell if it was with pain or pleasure.

"You're lying," I said, looking at the remaining plates, which were still covered.

"No, I'm not, I seriously don't want-"

"I know what you want. I'm your brother." Saying that put a bit of a damper on my fun, but I shook it off. I tapped my fingers on Sam's tight drum of a stomach. "You want me to stuff you until your belly's so full and heavy you can't even stand up. You want me to force you to eat until you honestly can't cram anything else in. And then you want me to do it again...and again...and again."

He didn't say anything. I lifted the third dome, revealing a platter of hash browns.

"Well, it's your lucky day, Sammy, 'cause that's what I want, too."

He started protesting, but I shut him up by shoveling food into him. There wasn't a lot he could do, besides let me tend to his growing belly. Maybe he was taller, but I was stronger. Something I proved as Sam's stomach got bigger and bigger, spilling over the waistband of his jeans. I was sure those had to be cutting into him something awful, but he made no move to unbutton them, and neither did I.

"Man, you just eat whatever I give you, don't you?" I shook my head, smirking, after he finished the hash browns. "Gotta be careful, Sam, that's how you gain weight."

He looked over at me with slightly glazed eyes, breathing shallowly. "Dean..."

"What?"

He obviously had to force himself to say what he did next. "M-more."

I couldn't help it-I threw my head back and laughed.

"If you say so." I revealed the last plate. Twelve strips of bacon.

I fed them all to Sam, ignoring his groans and belches. When he was finally done, this belly nearly rested on his thighs. I gave it a playful slap. He whimpered.

"Aw, c'mon, don't go soft on me." I helped him to his feet. He had to cradle his stomach in his hands. "Figuratively, I mean. I don't think you can help it literally."

I stayed next to him as he waddled-yeah, actually waddled-to his bed, and laid down, curling around his overfed stomach. He was asleep within minutes.

I watched him for awhile, until the high of stuffing him faded and the guilt came back. Then I left.