Beached!

Bucky only noticed how hungry he was once he took a bite. Then he scarved down the sandwich in record time.

They arrived at their destination not much later. The choice for their first vacation in the future had been difficult. They agreed: no flying. Tony had jokingly suggested a theme park and here they were.

Bucky was impressed by the size and cleanliness of their hotel room and the king size bed in the middle of the room. They put away their suit cases and got ready to leave for the park.

Bucky struggled to button his shirt and ultimately decided to leave it open. It perfectly framed his growing belly.

"How about we play a little game," Steve suggested.

"A game?" Bucky was a little wary of what Steve had come up with.

"Whenever you order something, I'll give you a budget that I'll pay."

"Doesn't sound like much of a game. You just want me to eat more."

"Me? No! I'm just making sure you don't lose your math skills."

Of course, Bucky saw right through what Steve was doing, but they were on vacation, and he thought it could be a fun way to eat more.

First: waffles.

"$4.99"

"That's only enough for one!"

Bucky savoured it and then pulled Steve to the next booth. Churros.

"How much?"

"$12.49"

It didn't take long for Bucky to order a menu of different churros, mini and regular with various toppings, which came out to the exact price. The limitations helped him think less about how much they were spending.

He also wasn't keeping close track of how much he had eaten. Sweet, salty, savoury whatever looked good, Bucky would ask for a budget. And a few times Steve pointed out something he wanted Bucky to try.

They went on lots of rides too though the longer they spent in the park the more uncomfortable they became. The bar pressed against Bucky's stomach, which felt sensitive from everything he'd eaten, and his hips were wedged in the seat.

When there was only one roller coaster left for them to try Bucky had to throw in the towel. He'd been dealing well until then but just looking at this monstrosity mostly made of loop-the-loops made him nauseous.

"I think I'm gonna call it a day."

"Scared?" Steve teased.

Bucky's hands went to his belly and Steve's gaze followed.

"Just really full."

“We were…” Stiles trailed off in the middle of the sentence. He couldn’t remember what he wanted to ask.

“We were… looking for… something?”

Derek froze in the middle of taking a bite. “We went to… explore? Investigate.”

“Yes! A house appeared out of nowhere and we’re inside.”

“We have to do something—escape.” Derek looked down at his plate. “But I’m too hungry now.”

Stiles nodded and kept eating too. He couldn’t even remember what they’d planned to do after taking another bite and once he finished this plate another one was served up.

“I think you should talk to Director Fury before we continue here.” He finally said after an uncomfortably long moment of silence.

Bucky’s stomach dropped. How was everyone so certain he weighed 600lbs just by looking at him. Steve cleared his throat and jerked his head towards the back of the cabin.

“Sam is right. Director Fury would probably like to make sure that camp policy isn’t violated by us accepting a camper over the weight limit.” Steve said. Bucky could see a faint blush spreading on his cheeks, but his voice remained steady and neutral.

The walk to the back of the cabin wasn’t very far but Bucky could feel his heart rate spiking. White, hot shame was curling in his stomach. He wanted to smother that feeling with a pint or two of ice cream, but right now really wasn’t the time to think about self-soothing through food.

Bucky wanted to pull Steve back and keep him from knocking at the Director’s door, but Steve was a few steps ahead of him and already rapping his knuckles against the frosted glass.

“What now?” Director Fury shouted from inside the room. Steve adjusted his stance and leaned closer to the door.

“It’s about a camper, sir. He’s trying to sign up, but—” Steve bit his lip and searched for the right words, “—Sam told me you might want to see him first.”

For a moment everything was quiet, but then Director Fury’s chair scraping against the floor disrupted the silence.

“Why do I even employ you all if you can’t even deal—” he yanked open the door and stopped mid-sentence when he saw Bucky.

“Mr. Barnes, it looks like you are even more in need of this establishment than last year.”

Bucky tried to duck his head to hide the shameful blush on his cheeks, but when he felt the fat under his chin bunching up against his chest, he snapped his head back up. Suddenly painfully aware that he had gained a lot of weight. Maybe even enough to—

“Please come in.” Director Fury stepped back an opened the door all the way to let both Bucky and Steve inside. The office was sparsely decorated most of the space was taken up by a desk in the middle of the room. The backwall was lined with bookshelves.

“There are certain rules I have to follow, Mr. Barnes. I don’t suppose you have read up on the camp policy, have you?” Bucky shook his head, he could once again feel his chins wobbling, which only made him feel more embarrassed.

He hadn’t read any of the rules, but he was fairly certain which one the Director was referring to right now. Steve had whispered about the elusive weight limit of the fat camp many times over the past years. It had always been a far-off fantasy—an unimaginable goal.

“But you are aware that my camp has a weight limit?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do you know why there is a weight limit?” Director Fury answered his own question, “At a certain point of obesity a temporary intervention like this is not sufficient, and the underlying cause of the issue needs to be addressed.”

Bucky squirmed under the intense stare of the Director. He looked around for Steve for reassurance, but he was stood somewhere behind Bucky. He had to face this situation alone.

“Are you rejecting my application as a camper then?”

“No.” Director Fury paced through the office, “At least not until I have a reason to deny you.” He stopped behind his desk and leaned forward on his hands.

“Counsellor Rogers.” Bucky heard Steve take a step forward and saw him move into his peripheral vision.

“Yes, sir?”

“Why don’t you take Mr. Barnes to get weighed. I think that will resolve this issue quickly.”

Bucky closed his eyes for a second, he couldn’t help himself. He let utter humiliation wash over him. Everyone could see the consequences of his gluttony. No, he had never really restricted his own eating habits, but the last year he had just lived to eat. Indulging every craving. 24/7. The only exercise he had gotten over the lockdown had been the many walks to the fridge.

With sudden frightening clarity Bucky knew that if it came down to it, he didn’t think he could stop. Stop eating like this, stop enjoying it like this, stop himself from getting hard at the thought that he was so out of control they couldn’t make him lose weight—haven’t been able to even after years. Bucky had never let himself think of it but now all his thoughts circled around it: would he choose this lifestyle over everything else in his life?

A heady, flurry of lust burned through him when he realized it wasn’t his choice to make. He had fattened himself up so much he needed someone to enable him further. His family had been doing it unconsciously so far, always keeping the fridge and the pantry stocked to overflowing. Bucky craved more.

No matter how today ended, he would beg Steve to feed him, fatten him and fuck him until that was his entire life.

Bucky turned to Steve and even though he didn’t say a word Steve must have somehow seen the change in Bucky’s outlook. Instead of shrinking away from Director Fury’s gaze Steve now squared his shoulders and stood up straighter. Bucky knew he’d chosen the right person to fulfill his dream, had correctly chosen years ago. He just hadn’t dared to give in to his ultimate desire until now.

The walk to the small backroom with the industrial scale, a small table and two chairs didn’t take them long, but to Bucky it felt like an eternity. When Steve closed the door and locked it from the inside Bucky immediately crowded him against the wall. Steve gasped with the feeling of the pliable fat pressed firmly against his front. Before Bucky could say anything, Steve pulled him into a desperate kiss that was steeped in all the pent-up energy of spending one and a half years apart.

Bucky finally pulled away when Steve started grinding into Bucky’s underbelly and trying to pull his shirt off. When he pulled back Steve was flushed and panting, pupils blown wide hiding almost all the blue in his eyes. However right now Bucky needed to make sure they were on the same page and that Steve really was on board and understood what Bucky wanted.

“I know we’ve only spent a few weeks each summer together and I don’t know if you exclusively—” before Bucky could continue Steve nodded vigorously and blurted out, “Move in with me.”

Bucky took a surprised step back and then sat down heavily on one of the chairs. Steve’s expression was wide-eyed, but earnest.

“Fuck, you mean that?”

“I kind of wanted to bring this up some time over the summer and not just spring that on you the first moment we’re alone, but it’s not just those few weeks every year for me, ok?” Steve came over to stand in front of Bucky, then crouched down in front of him and propped his elbows on Bucky’s knees.

“Looks like I have to fast-track my plan get you for more than just a few weeks a year because you really outgrew this place.” Steve tried to jiggle the overhang that sagged between Bucky’s thighs when he sat down, but it was heavier than he expected and barely moved from his light touch.

“Oh, wow,” Steve gasped and tried to ruck up Bucky’s shirt again to get his hands on the bare skin. Bucky caught Steve’s wrists in one hand and held them still for a moment.

“We had a bet, didn’t we?”

“Right. If I win, you’ll move in with me?” Steve was 100% confident that Bucky was over 600 pounds, maybe not by a lot yet, but there was no way he was going to lose.

“What if I win?” Bucky still asked. Steve shook his head and shrugged.

“One more summer of secrecy and sneaking around?” He had been mostly joking, but Bucky offered his hand once more. When Steve shook Bucky’s hand he also used that to pull him back to his feet. Bucky hadn’t complained yet about having to move around this much, but Steve could see the pains and aches settling in now.

Bucky walked the two steps over to the scale, then grabbed Steve’s shoulder to steady himself and swing his leg up onto the raised platform. Steve could see him shaking with the effort of pulling himself up that small step and tried to help Bucky as best as he could. The digital display immediately started counting up rapidly, flying past 300, 400 and finally 500 pounds.

“No way!” Steve exclaimed. Bucky turned to the side and craned his neck to look over his belly down at the raised display. Instead of displaying “ERR” like Steve had predicted, the numbers had slowed down to a snail’s pace and finally settled on 598.6 pounds.

Bucky couldn’t help himself but start laughing at the absolutely dismayed expression on Steve’s face.

“That’s not fair, I could put that bit of weight on you in a day. Hell, in one meal!” He complained. “Let’s just tell Fury you’re too fat, he probably won’t check.”

“One last summer of secrecy and sneaking around.”

“No, come one, let me change your mind.” Steve started digging under the rolls on Bucky’s hips to find his waistband and tried to maneuver Bucky back into the chair at the same time.

“Let me blow you,” he grumbled against Bucky’s lips and tried to heft his belly up again. When Steve noticed just how much strength that took, he quickly corrected himself, “Let me try to blow you.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that. He really couldn’t believe his luck that he got to share this experience with Steve and as much as he wanted to see Steve try, he knew all too well that they would not be able to do this anywhere but in a bed. He was already worn out from walking around and standing this much.

“You really have no idea just how much this thing gets in the way.” Bucky patted the top of his belly, he thought about telling Steve right here what he had all learned about being this fat but decided that he would rather let Steve see for himself.

Steve grumbled under his breath about wanting to take Bucky home right now, but finally settled on saying, “I suppose then I would actually get to feed you too fat for fat camp.”

Most of Bucky’s memories of the last summers were positive, but when he thought of not being able to satisfy every food craving as soon as he felt it, he changed his mind.

Steve thought he had prepared himself enough for seeing Bucky again. Every time Steve had seen Bucky, he had gained weight Steve was prepared for that. However, he was not prepared to see Mrs. Barnes pulling up to camp with an empty passenger seat. Confusion smothered his nerves. Where’s Bucky? He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Mrs. Barnes got out of the minivan and instead of opening the passenger side door, she went straight for the back door. Bucky couldn’t have gotten too fat to fit in the front in just a year, could he? Steve was walking over to the parked car before he had consciously decided on it. When he got close enough to see Bucky in the backseat his steps faltered.

“Bucky?” he asked in disbelief. Where Bucky’s body shape had been fairly proportionate last year, the frame of the guy in the backseat was completely overtaken by his huge belly. He was sitting in the middle of the backseat, thighs splayed out wide to accommodate his lower belly spilling in between. Yet there was still a large part of it resting on his thighs.

When Steve finally dragged his gaze up to his face, he could not believe that Bucky’s familiar eyes were looking back at him. Even his face was rounder than Steve remembered, but this guy was unmistakably Bucky.

He grinned wide but didn’t make any move yet to get out of the minivan and greet Steve properly, he just leaned over slightly and stuck his hand out the door. Steve stood frozen.

“What? You’re not gonna say hello?” Bucky’s teasing finally shook Steve out of his stupor, and he took the last few steps to get close enough to shake Bucky’s hand. Then he remembered his manners and also greeted Mrs. Barnes, but she waved him off with a: “You boys catch up while I sign James in.” Then she walked off with one last meaningful glance at Steve.

When Steve was confident that she was out of earshot, he leaned forward on his hands onto the car seat, grinning at Bucky.

“You’re huge, Buck!” He couldn’t help but point out. Bucky laughed, which made the fat on his upper body shake, but his heavy belly was almost unaffected.

“Hello to you too.” Steve rolled his eyes and fondly smiled at Bucky.

“Hey,” Steve finally said, his smile obvious in his voice. When he heard another car drive onto the parking lot Steve pulled back and tried to school his face into somewhat of a neutral expression.

“Are you going to get out, or what?” Steve hadn’t meant to sound that harsh, but he felt nervous with someone else potentially watching them. Bucky didn’t acknowledge Steve’s sudden change in behavior and started scooting towards the open car door. He was grunting with the effort of moving his larger body even the few inches over to the next seat.

The car entire car rocked back and forth with Bucky’s movements. He had really packed on the weight over lockdown, and it looked like the majority of it had settled on his belly and lower body. His huge thighs were pressing each other out of the way when Bucky tried to move one leg closer to push himself closer to Steve. Once he finally made it to the edge of the car seat, he took a short break to steady his breathing.

Steve couldn’t help the spike of arousal that shot down his spine when he saw Bucky this out of breath from just hoisting his own body one seat over. After this short break Bucky swung his leg over the edge of the seat and reached his hands out. When Steve didn’t react right away Bucky huffed an annoyed breath.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare or are you actually going to help me?”

Steve scrambled into action right away and pulled Bucky out and off the seat. The heavy weight of his body forced a breath out of Steve when he braced himself to use his full strength. With both of his feet finally on the ground Bucky smoothed his hair back and pulled his huge t-shirt down where it had ridden up over his swaying belly that hang low over his thighs.

He waddled two steps froward to close the car door. Steve could see the effort every single step took for Bucky. He was half-hard just from this display of Bucky’s worsening mobility, Steve tried to discreetly adjust himself, but of course Bucky noticed.

“This,” he sucked in a breath, “doing it for you?”

Steve automatically looked around to make sure no one had heard Bucky just ask that. The heat that rose to his face was enough of an answer to that question. Bucky suddenly laughed and Steve looked back at him. He hadn’t even noticed looking away. Bucky’s laugh sounded a lot less breathless than just a few moments ago.

“Wait, are you playing at being more out of breath than you actually are?”

“What can I say that blush looks good on you.” Even though Bucky wasn’t panting as over-exaggerated as he had a moment ago, Steve could hear the strain in his voice. He got in on Bucky’s good-natured teasing.

“Was you sitting in the backseat for show too?”

“Technically yes, but the passenger seat is getting pretty uncomfortable.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“I know how much you like it.” Steve really felt like kissing Bucky right now, but in that moment, Mrs. Barnes waved them over from the entrance of the counsellor’s cabin.

They slowly made their way across the parking lot. If Bucky had developed the beginnings of a waddle last summer by now it was a full body exercise just to bring one leg in front of the other. He’d gained so much weight in his legs alone that they rubbed together all the way down to his knees and Steve could even see some of the rolls that had settled on his thighs through the tight fabric of the sweatpants he was wearing.

All while Bucky was basically throwing his entire body weight from side to side just to take a step, his low-hanging gut was consistently working against him. It swayed with a slight delay always in the opposite direction Bucky was leaning, making the whole exercise of walking even harder for him. Steve could not wait to finally explore all the new pounds Bucky had added to his body.

He must be getting close to 600lbs, Steve thought as he admired Bucky while he was walking two steps behind him. They were still only halfway across the parking lot, so Steve hurried up next to Bucky to ask just that.

“How much do you weigh now?” Bucky huffed a short laugh before concentrating on his efforts to walk again.

“What do you think?”

“You have to be getting close to six hundred pounds.” Bucky hummed indecisively.

“No way. I don’t know my exact weight. The scale at my ma’s house only goes up to 440lbs, but I didn’t gain a hundred pounds in a year.” Steve couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping to Bucky’s huge swaying belly.

Last year Bucky definitely didn’t have to push his thighs up against this huge overhang. It had just sagged a couple of inches over his waistband. Now it was firmly resting against his thighs even standing up.

“You know they’d probably refer you to an actual weight loss clinic if you weighed in at 600lbs.” Bucky scoffed.

“I’m not 600lbs, Steve.” No matter how confident he was trying to sound an edge of uncertainty had snuck into his voice. Steve couldn’t resist saying, “Bet?” as they walked into the counsellor’s cabin where Bucky would be weighed to complete his sign up to this year’s fat camp.

After walking from the car all the way across the parking lot Bucky was actually red-faced and out of breath, so instead of answering he offered Steve his hand with a serious look.

“We just have to finish those three pancakes and then the food is free! Even if we can’t finish it’s 15 dollars to try and we can take the leftovers on the road.”

Stiles didn’t want to throw in the towel before the challenge had even begun, but it was probably for the best to not go into this completely blind. While waiting for their server to return Stiles looked up eating competitions online.

They did have 90 minutes in total to finish all the food, but Stiles hypothesized that eating as quickly as possible would be the best strategy. Derek argued that they should take advantage of all the time they were given. Now that Derek could focus on something else than his surroundings his hunched over posture slowly relaxed.

The banter eventually escalated into a bet that whoever finished first got to choose a punishment for the loser. Stiles was almost certain he would lose out against the werewolf metabolism, but he didn’t think Derek would go for a particularly harsh punishment. He would have never agreed to this with Scott because he always chose the most embarrassing punishments.

This was his and Derek’s very first vacation on their own after finally sorting out their mutual pining. The road trip had been planned for close to year. However, the exact date had always been pushed back by another monster of the week ruining their plans. Instead of making a round trip they had flown up to Chicago and rented a car instead of taking the Jeep like Stiles had initially planned. The old girl probably wouldn’t have made it anyway.

Another consequence of pushing their vacation back was the weather. Instead of driving in late spring or early summer, when the heat would have still been bearable, it was August—the hottest month of the year.

The AC could barely keep up and all the people that had just eaten breakfast here had heated the small diner up even more. Stiles poured himself another glass of ice water.

He was looking forward to when they would get far enough south to where diners started serving real sweet tea. Boyd had shared a few stories with the pack about the summers he had spent on his uncle’s farm in Georgia. How the only thing that could chase the sweltering heat away for a moment was the ice-cold sweet tea his auntie always kept in the fridge.

When their food finally arrived at the table the server could barely fit both plates on the small table for two. Each pancake was twelve inches in diameter, the stack was piled high with maple syrup, banana, and whipped cream.

“Wow, these are huge!” Derek stifled a laugh.

“There was a picture in the menu.” The server cleared his throat to get their attention before they could dig in.

“When this,” he held a tomato shaped kitchen timer up, “goes off and you have not finished the challenge you will be—” he sighed and made an unenthusiastic buzzer noise “—disqualified.”

“Thanks, pal.” Stiles grinned back. The server glared at him for a second before he wound up the timer and left the table.

“Man, that guy is in a bad mood.” Stiles tried joking around with Derek before they got serious about this challenge.

“You haven’t worked in hospitality before.”

“And you have?” He took another sip of water and waved the glass around threatening to spill all over.

“Summer job.” Derek shrugged and finally picked up his fork.

“Wait, you can’t just drop something like that and not tell me more details.”

“If you don’t want to pay for this mountain of food you better dig in.”

Stiles whined Derek’s name annoyed, but also picked up his fork.

“On three,” Stiles said, but Derek was already chewing the first bite.

“Cheater,” Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of pancake.

These were a lot flatter than the standard-sized pancakes. Probably deflated by their own weight, but the mixture of flour, sugar and oil tasted great all the same. Stiles hadn’t had banana pancakes before, but he welcomed the fruity sweetness in contrast with the straight up sugar of the rest of the meal.

Stiles surprised himself when he managed to keep up with Derek all through the first pancake. When he got started on that second one, he even pulled ahead for a bit, but he hit a wall as soon as half of it was gone. It felt like his stomach had suddenly closed down shop and he felt almost nauseous when he thought of eating even more sugar.

However, when Derek pulled ahead and finished off his second pancake without any trouble Stiles doubled down. He knew it was a loosing battle, but he wasn’t about to give up this easily. Yet, as willing as his mind was, his body failed him. With about three quarters of the last pancake left his determination flagged.

The food weighed heavily in his stomach. The vague nausea from eating way too much sugar curled up into his throat and had him sipping water to try and wash it down, which only made him feel even fuller.

Stiles could picture exactly what he looked like right now. He’d done this in front of his bedroom mirror. His stomach rounding out, like half a beach ball taped to his front. The curve of a belly looking out of place on his thin frame.

He had always loved to eat, not only for the sake of taste, but also because of how it made him feel. Sated. Heavy. Tethered down and not constantly in danger of floating away in his own mind. That moment when his thoughts finally ground to a halt and all he could do was to be overwhelmed by that feeling—almost on the wrong side of too much to handle.

However, he wasn’t at that point yet. This was more of a mental block. Unlike Derek, he didn't really have a sweet tooth. Stiles preferred salty, greasy substantial meals over dessert any day.

Stiles had been sat staring at his plate before Derek leaned against him to whisper, “You ok?”

Stiles groaned but picked up his fork again. Derek didn’t seem affected by the amount of food at all. Then again, the wolves always had to eat a lot just to keep their mass up. They leaned out quickly without enough food, preserving energy.

“Just taking a break.” Stiles could see Derek shifting in his seat, the wolf always craving closeness. They’d talked about this, whatever it was, after Derek had accidentally seen Stiles once afterwards. Stiles had tried his best to explain while still caught in that blissed out state. He didn’t know how but Derek had somehow understood.

Derek finally put that last bite in his mouth and then moved closer to Stiles. The entire side of his body was pressed up against Stiles. He was carefully draped over Stiles shoulders offering support, but not crowding him in. Stiles was still steeling himself for the next bite when Derek’s hand slipped under his shirt. Knuckles dragging against bare skin.

Stiles yelped and grabbed at Derek’s wrist. “What are you doing?” he whispered urgently.

“Helping,” Derek answered and furrowed his brows. Like always. Except they were in the middle of a restaurant and not locked in Stiles’ bedroom.

“Stop. Someone is going to see you,” he paused to search for the right word but then just flicked his eyes to where he was still holding Derek’s wrist.

“We’re not coming back here. You wanted to do the challenge.” Stiles wanted to whine and complain at Derek, but he was right. Stiles had suggested doing the food challenge. He’d honestly just thought about getting free food, only when they had already ordered, did he even think of this possibility.

“Plus,” Derek almost purred into Stiles’ ear, “winner gets to choose a punishment, right?”

Stiles’ “not really a punishment” died in his throat when Derek pulled him almost into his lap and his knuckles started digging into the roundest part of his stomach. They probably just looked like an overly affectionate couple, but that didn’t keep that searing hot shame from bubbling up. Stiles wanted to hide his burning face against Derek’s shoulder. He wanted to push Derek away. Stiles wanted to cram the rest of the pancake into his mouth to keep himself from thanking Derek out loud for getting his hands on his stuffed belly.

Derek hadn’t seemed interested in participating in Stiles’ peculiar activities but every time they had somehow ended up in that situation again, he had gotten more and more affectionate towards Stiles and his bloated middle.

“You’re gonna finish that, aren’t you?” Stiles shook his head, but he stabbed his fork into the pancake, nonetheless.

“Are you?” Derek asked again, a teasing edge to it. Stiles didn’t trust his voice and just nodded.

“Yes, look at yourself. The first chance you get to stuff yourself full of some food and you run headfirst into it.” Derek cupped his bloated stomach and lifted it up a bit.

“Look at that. All the food you stuffed in there making a nice little belly. Do you want to eat like this every day?” Stiles pushed another bite past his lips almost all whipped cream.

“Do you?” Derek prompted him. A whine caught in Stile’s throat, and he pushed it down with another forkful of food. He nodded and hummed agreeably.

“You’re just so greedy to be stuffed full.” Stiles was burning up but instead of reaching for his glass of water he gathered the last bits and pieces on his plate.

“You know what’s gonna happen if I let you eat like this every day?” Stiles was fast approaching the simple state of mind he was craving. He couldn’t decide whether to nod or shake his head. The motion of Derek’s hand on his stomach softened. Rubbing large circles into the stretched skin.

“You’re gonna get fat if you eat like this every day.” With that last mouthful Stiles had finished the challenge, but all he could think about was what Derek had just said.

“Feels so good,” Stiles said. Words slurred and a dopey smile on his face while he turned further into Derek’s body.

“Feels too good to stop, huh? Never had all that food just for free. That’s why you dragged me out here, off the highway. Not because you cared about what you’d eat, but because of how much. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered. “Every day.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’ve got four weeks on the road and me to take care of you.”

So, when the situation had calmed down enough that Stiles didn’t feel like he was defusing a bomb, he’d grabbed a bag of chips. The crunch was satisfying after the intensity of the situation, but the small indulgence had been over way too soon.

The package had fit in the palm of his hand, barely snack-sized. Derek had handed him another flavour when he’d asked for it—salt and pepper, full-sized. The pepper burned his lips slightly, but that only made him crave something sweet and when he’d indulged in that (and another swig from the bottle in his pocket) he’d craved something salty again.

The evening had blurred into a continuous loop of eating, drinking and mediating between two to three werewolves at any time. The feeling of all that food in his stomach had only hit Stiles once he’d made his way back to the Jeep and heaved himself up into the passenger seat.

Scott had silently flashed his puppy-dog eyes at Stiles to get him to sit in the back, so he could have Allison upfront, but Stiles felt way too sluggish to get up again. They were half-way home when Stiles slurred out: “Only reason you’re driving at all is ‘cause I’m drunk.”

+++

When the air conditioning at the Stilinski residence breaks in the middle of a heat wave Stiles feels like he’s melting. When he’s looking down at his body, he kinda looks like he’s melting too. Expect that has got nothing to do with the heat and more with the tub of ice cream beside him.

The creamy soft expanse of his upper body resembled the Stracciatella ice cream a lot more than it had last summer. His diet had been ineffectual at best and contributing to his weight gain at worst.

Even though he wasn’t a freshman, those famous 15 pounds had definitely caught up to him. He actually had a bit of a pooch sticking out under his belly button and the tiniest traces of love handles on his hips.

The heat must’ve been boiling his brain because instead of recoiling from the sweet calories Stiles put another spoonful in his mouth. Closing his eyes at the cold taste in his mouth. Still thinking about all those calories, but he was only indulging because he had to cool down.

What else was he supposed to do? Just drink plain water? One day of indulgence wouldn’t ruin his diet anyway.

For a wild moment the image of Derek handing him another carton of ice cream flooded his brain. Instead of threatening him, Derek’s gruff voice ordered, Eat.

+++

Stiles wasn’t sure how, but apparently that first pack barbecue hadn’t been a complete failure. He’d received Derek’s short invitation text at 4:03 pm, two whole minutes before Scott’s phone chimed. Not that Stiles was counting.

God, this crush was getting pathetic.

The texts all said the same, just a time, a place and Bring food if you don’t want to starve. Stiles wanted to roll his eyes—Derek had such a way with words—but when he felt a familiar fond smile tugging at his lips, he bit down on it.

Stiles was actually pleasantly surprised when he was the last person to arrive, and no blood had been spilled yet. Sure, everyone stuck to their little groups and didn’t mingle, but at least no one was shouting.

When Stiles finally found Derek sitting in the shade of the porch, he stupidly waved the huge bowl of pasta salad he’d brought along—with actual real mayonnaise, not the stuff he kept in the fridge for his dad.

Derek’s frown deepened further when Stiles came walking towards the porch, so he turned 90° and headed over to the flimsy outdoor table that was set up for food. There were three identical Walmart cakes, two casseroles with unidentifiable contents and a huge stack of paper plates and solo cups. Right, still gotta work on the pack’s organisation skills.

Stiles honestly tried to stick to his resolution of eating healthier. He’d gained another ten pounds without noticing it. Well, until he couldn’t button his favourite shorts, that used to make his ass look great—now it looked like sausage casing.

So, he’d piled some of the unidentifiable food on his plate that looked like it had some green pieces in it. It tasted… fine. Stiles didn’t immediately retch at the taste which was more than he had expected.

Everything was going fine. Great even. No shouting matches on the front lawn. No one stormed out after an argument and even some tentative conversations between different groups.

Stiles could relax. Actually relax since Derek had apparently set up a hammock. Only his useless stomach betrayed him, growling loud enough for the werewolf congregation to hear, which got him a snide remark from Jackson. As of course that asshole had zeroed right in on Stiles’ growing insecurity.

But it was fine, because Stiles’ clever retort made everyone laugh and then they actually talked to each other instead of standing around making small talk. The entire atmosphere changed. Stiles felt like he’d swallowed all that previous tension up.

He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, trying to adjust it in a way that would hide the small curve of his belly. And then 6’ of brooding werewolf were taking over his field of view. Derek Hale was shuffling his feet and pushing a plate with three pieces of cake at him.

“It’s good cake.” It’s Walmart cake, Stiles wanted to say, but that answer died on his tongue when, while reaching forward, he brushed against his belly.

“I really shouldn’t.”

“You gain weight before a growth spurt. Don’t worry about it. It looks good.”

Stiles took the cake from Derek, slightly dazed from just being told by Derek freaking Hale that he looked good? His mind was reeling with it, and he didn’t even notice that he’d already pushed the first fork of cake into his mouth. Only when the overwhelming sweetness hit him did Stiles come back into himself.

He let the fork fall to the plate but swallowed the piece he’d already put in his mouth. Stiles scanned the backyard for Derek and found him sitting back on the porch. When their eyes met instead of his normally annoyed stare Derek’s expression was open and wide-eyed. His eyes flicked down to the cake, then up to Stiles face and back down to the cake. Finally, Derek turned away like he’d been caught doing something forbidden.

Stiles ate all three pieces of cake while trying very hard not to think of Derek bringing him more. It’s ok to break your diet if it’s a gift, right? What’s one more indulgence, not like he had had any chance with Derek before.

+++

For some godforsaken reason, Stiles had declared after the last pack meeting that his crush on Derek couldn't get any worse. The universe had taken that as a challenge.

It had started with Derek scolding Jackson for making fun of Stiles' weight gain. Then gentler to Erica for talking about how she didn’t want to leave the house without makeup. It had progressed to Derek encouraging Isaac when he managed to track down Derek by scent alone.

The final straw for Stiles had been today after a training session with all of the pack—humans included. Everything had gone well. Minimal maiming and bruising. Today Derek had given Boyd special attention, praising him whenever he recognised and countered an attack pattern instead of relying on his fast reflexes and strength.

Afterwards, while Stiles had gotten a glass of water from the kitchen, he’d heard them have a talk through the open window. He hadn’t meant to listen in, but his heart about melted into a puddle when he heard Derek say, “You did good.”

Boyd had chuckled and tried to end their talk right there with a friendly clap on Derek’s shoulder, but Derek had pressed on.

“You always give your best. You’re fast and strong and you have an incredible strategic mind. Trust your instincts. Don’t wait to block an attack when it’s coming at you, get out of there before the situation gets that far.”

“I’m not that—”

“When Erica built up all that momentum to knock you off your feet and you used that against her before she even saw you moving your feet. That was luck then?”

Stiles could hear a low chuckle bubble out of Boyd at that.

“That was pretty clever.”

“Right on. Now let’s get inside, dinner’s almost here.”

The pack had decided on pizza tonight. They’d ordered so often in the past few months that the delivery driver knew the address right away when Derek called. Stiles had decided on a small Pizza Margherita. Least calories out of anything on the menu and Stiles could really afford to cut back.

Those few pounds too much had settled into a spare tire around his waist. Yesterday he’d even found some stretch marks on the bit of pudge that always hung over his waistband. That discovery had renewed his resolve to stick to his diet. Plus, he was sitting right next to Derek.

He tried to slow down to make the tiny pizza last as long as possible, but he was still the first one that finished eating. Of course, he wasn’t full or satisfied, but the worst of Stiles’ hunger had been soothed. Even the humans had trained today, running around, hiding from the wolves. It was normal for him to still feel hungry, but he was determined to keep from eating any more unnecessary calories.

His resolve began to waver when Derek nudged his pizza boy towards Stiles.

“It’s four-cheese.” Stiles' mouth watered at the thought, but he tried to be strict.

“I already ate an entire pizza.”

“Small one. No toppings. You look hungry.” Derek shrugged and nudged the box in Stiles’ direction again.

“I’ve been eating a lot lately. I should really be cutting down.” Derek’s expression hardened like he wanted to argue with Stiles, but after a quick look around, he just put the rest of the pizza in Stiles’ lap.

“Eat.” Of course, Stiles had eaten the pizza. Who wouldn’t listen to their crush telling them to eat?

+++

Stiles had severely underestimated the filling effect four cheeses would have on his stomach. He felt bloated and achy and wanted nothing more than to rub over the heated skin of his stomach. On the other hand, he also felt absolutely stuffed, no gnawing hunger making him cranky.

Blissed out after finally eating enough to satisfy his cravings, Stiles didn’t notice the pack heading out until he was the last one still at Derek’s place. Stiles could hear someone shuffling around in the kitchen, ripping apart pizza boxes, then opening the fridge. The loud pop of a bottle of beer startled Stiles out of his almost nap.

Derek was padding back into the living room, barely making a sound apart from taking a long sip of his beer. Stiles made a move to get up, but Derek motioned him to stay.

“You can’t even get drunk. What’s the point?” Stiles had teased Derek about his habit of keeping various types of beer stocked, but today Derek didn’t take the bait.

“Everyone’s already gone home.”

“You should’ve woken me up. What time is it?” Stiles could feel this conversation steering into a very uneasy direction and tried to distract from it. Derek did not stray from his course of questions.

“Why did you order so little food, Stiles? You gotta eat after training.” Derek asked so earnestly that Stiles couldn’t help, but tell the truth.

“I’ve just been gaining weight. Don’t think that growth spurt is coming.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

Stiles was dreaming. He must absolutely have fallen asleep and this was a dream.

“What?”

“You don’t look like you’re running for your life all the damn time. Sturdy, settled.” Stiles laughed high and shrill, even to his own ears, when Derek sat down next to him, leaning in.

“You sound like my dad talking like that.” Derek frowned but didn’t pull back. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be talking about my dad right now.”

“Why’s that?” Stiles was going to die of embarrassment, but he couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

“I like you.”

“Ok.” Derek nodded slowly, “I like you, too.” Why did this have to be so difficult? Couldn’t Derek just get it and throw him out already?

“No, I really like you. Like,” Stiles paused, “a crush,” he added quietly. Stiles could see the corner of Derek’s mouth quirk up.

“Like I said, me too.”

Stiles must’ve died and gone to heaven in the last few minutes. There was no way Derek Hale was— Oh, no definitely way, because that chiseled jaw was coming closer and closer to Stiles' own face. The kiss lasted for all of two seconds before Derek pulled back with a wide-eyed stare.

“Sorry, I thought—”

“No. Yes. Oh, my God. Keep kissing me. I can’t believe you— I’ve had a crush on you for ages!” Stiles flung himself forward and planted a very enthusiastic kiss on Derek’s lips.

“Didn’t want your dad arresting me for dating his underaged son.”

“I’ve been eighteen for months?” Stiles tilted his head in confusion. Derek chuckled and looked down.

“You seem to be the only one that thinks I’m some smooth-talking guy.”

“And you’re ok with—” Stiles gestured at his body, mainly hovering around the stomach section.

“You’re nice to look at. Were before, but now? Just more of you to—” Derek shrugged and looked down again.

“Yeah, yeah, smooth-talking.” Stiles smiled and put his hand on Derek’s leg to get his attention. “That sounds pretty nice. More of me. It’s probably gonna stay that way until we have to run from something again. So, you better be sure about this.”