seven lbs.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Chubby Sherlock, Mutual Weight Gain, John is still a little embarrassed about his weight gain: It's Sherlock who found his family's old recipes but John who's been experiencing the most expansive effects.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Established Relationship, Proposal, Sherlock doesn't know where these 25 pounds came from, Sexual Frustration: John is into Sherlock's recent weight gain. Really into it.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Blind Date, Stuffing, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, John finally notices the softness of his once defined waistline: Sherlock had always known that bigger bellies were attractive and now he can't stop thinking about John's perfect tummy.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Weight Gain, Pining John: John tends to mindlessly snack throughout the day. If Sherlock makes sure there are plenty of snacks around, he's only being considerate, right?

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Chubby John, Out of Shape, Mutual Weight Gain, First Time, Sherlock can take a hint: They have put on a good 15 pounds each since John started culinary school and enlisted Sherlock as his taste tester.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Established Relationship, Jealous Sherlock, Accidental Weight Gain, Sherlock can't zip his coat over his belly: Since Sherlock found that new bakery and promptly went up 10 pounds, it's hard to find clothes in his closet that still fit him.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Chubby Kink: Judging by what the scale said last night, John might be enjoying Sherlock's homecooked meals a little too much.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Hooking Up, Accidental Weight Gain, PTSD: The nightmares still wake him up more nights than not. But then Sherlock realizes that being full, sometimes a little beyond full, helps a lot.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Fuck Buddies, First Time, Sherlock puts on some holiday weight, Body Confidence: Sherlock likes that he's getting fat, but he's isn't ready to flaunt it, so he still sucks in his belly whenever he sees John.

But, sooner or later, seeing as the numbers on the scale aren't exactly going down, he knows he's not going to be able to hide his significant weight gain.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Chubby Kink, being full helps John sleep, Sweet Tooth: Sherlock discovers John's sweet tooth and takes full advantage.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Button Popping, Confessions, a demon curses Sherlock to gain weight, Holidays: Sherlock opens his parents' present only to find pants in a size he's not going to be fitting into anytime soon.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Chubby John, Accidental Weight Gain, Established Relationship, Sherlock loses a button: Sherlock's waistline has taken the brunt of it but even John has put on a few pounds.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Unintentional Weight Gain, First Time, Sherlock's weight gain is obvious in the heavy curve of a belly that had been flat not all that long ago: Sherlock finally acknowledges that he's getting chubby when it takes him five minutes to get his work pants fastened.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Measurement Kink, Sherlock packs on 15 pounds when he finally learns how to relax, stress eating: Sherlock and John are getting married in 2 days and Sherlock is too chubby for his tux.

John, naturally, thinks this is hilarious.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Button Popping, John's shirt is indecently tight, John is not so oblivious: It's getting inconvenient for Sherlock, getting turned on whenever he watches John eat so much he can barely move.

The consequences of John's pigging out, which are getting all the more obvious by his growing belly lately, aren't exactly making it any easier.

John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Established Relationship, Outgrowing Clothes, Sherlock doesn't believe in not cleaning his plate: John has started to use Sherlock's tummy as a pillow.

No, his attention is perfectly occupied watching John react to his new eating habits. After Lestrade’s comments, Sherlock decided there was no need to be covert about his increased appetite. Once they were done at the Yard, Sherlock ordered takeaway and ate three portions of Pad Thai while John watched in astonishment. That was just the beginning.

Since then, Sherlock has filled his days with large breakfasts, larger lunches, and even more indulgent suppers, with plenty of lounging in between. The feeling of constant fullness was odd at first, but not entirely unpleasant. There has been something fascinating about tracking the changes of his own body: he is warmer, a bit softer everywhere. Any extra weight on his frame seems to settle on his belly, although he can tell his arse is rounding out nicely when he examines himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look half bad, even if his belly is starting to get a little bit -- well, prominent. And of course, his clothes are shamefully tight, even his new suit.

Anyway, it’s easier to remain in his pyjamas, snacking on biscuits and lazing on the sofa. From time to time he tries a new tactic: licking his fingers after finishing a biscuit, settling a hand on his stomach. John, always nearby, continues to flush, stutter, and stammer whenever Sherlock does any of these things. Truth be told, it’s driving Sherlock to distraction. And yet John continues to say nothing.

It’s maddening. Sherlock decides to do something about it.

While John is working one afternoon, he orders double their usual takeaway, and eats half of it himself before John even gets home. John returns to find him sprawled on the couch, sated and sleepy, with a seemingly uneaten meal waiting for them on the table. Sherlock watches John, and is gratified to see John’s eyes fix quickly on Sherlock’s belly.  

“Dinner?” Sherlock inquires innocently.

John flushes, clearing his throat. “Um. You’re -- hungry?”

“Mmm. Starving.” Sherlock stretches, feeling his t-shirt ride up over the curve of his stomach. He’s had to push down his pyjama pants an inch or two to get comfortable. 

John’s eyes widen, and he licks his lips. He can’t help chuckling a little bit. Sherlock finds he wants to hear John say something. He needs to hear John comment, acknowledge what’s becoming obvious.

“What?” Sherlock tugs at his shirt. He hopes it doesn’t look purposeful.

“You, um.” John clears his throat again. His cheeks redden. “You’ve been hungry lately, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t noticed,” Sherlock lies, pushing himself up from the couch. It takes a little more effort than he’d estimated, and he can’t help the grunt that escapes as he sits up. He really did go a bit overboard on that first supper, and he wonders for a moment if this is a terrible idea. But he has to drive John to say something, do something. 

“Have you moved from that spot today?” John steps forward, raising an eyebrow, and offers a hand.

Sherlock, much as he wants to take it, waves him off. “Fell asleep.”

“Ah.” John’s eyes fix back on Sherlock’s middle as Sherlock stands up stiffly. It really is rather round, and Sherlock feels drowsy from all the food still in it. 

John, flushed as he is, turns quickly and busies himself at the table, cracking open the bottle of beer Sherlock’s left at his place. “Thanks for ordering. I had to take two extra patients at the end of my shift.”

“I’d deduced that.”

John smiles. “Of course you did.”

Dinner is lovely, of course, but Sherlock’s appetite flags when he’s only a few bites in. Even with all his increased meals, he’s really not used to so much food at once. He looks up to find John staring at him, riveted as Sherlock takes bite after bite. That’s all it takes to spur him on, and he polishes off his entire helping of Angelo’s pasta, feeling John’s gaze on him as he eats. 

When his plate is clean, his stomach gives a mighty rumble, and Sherlock can’t help stifling a small burp. He sits back, suddenly aware of his tight, overfull stomach, now straining into his lap. He feels positively huge.

“Delicious,” he manages.

John looks as if he might pass out, though not from overindulgence. “All right, there?”

“Might have overdone it a bit,” Sherlock admits, shifting in his chair.

“I can see that,” John breathes, and then catches himself. He gives Sherlock a warm half-smile. “Maybe a bit of telly, then?”

Sherlock nods, managing to ease himself back onto the sofa as John clears their plates. His stomach sloshes dangerously, and he puts a hand on it as he sits down again, amazed at the heat of it, the taut skin. It’s positively -- carnal.

John comes in from the kitchen and nearly stops dead at the sight of Sherlock on the sofa. He blinks at him. “Sherlock. You, um. You look --”

“Full?” Sherlock supplies.

John simply nods, as if words are too much to deal with.

Sherlock’s belly churns again, proving a distraction. He really did overdo it; that wasn’t a lie. Wincing, he puts a hand on it. 

John’s medical instincts kick in. “Budge over,” he tells Sherlock, and settles onto the couch next to him. “Now lie back a bit.”

Sherlock obeys, his nerves thrilling with John’s close proximity, but finds it’s not so easy to move with his overfull stomach pinning him down. John’s eyes widen in amazement, but he cringes a bit in sympathy. “I don’t know what’s got into you lately,” he mutters. 

“Dinner,” Sherlock deadpans.

“Obviously,” John says, and their eyes meet. Something heated passes between them.

John licks his lips, then exhales, businesslike. “Now, see if this feels better.” He rucks up Sherlock’s shirt and slips a hand underneath it, pressing gently on Sherlock’s belly, prodding the taut flesh experimentally.

Sherlock can’t help it: he groans, more from sheer pleasure than discomfort.

John pulls his hand away quickly. “Sorry --”

“No, that was -- that was good,” Sherlock manages. “Perfect.”

“Oh,” John breathes.

“I think it might -- help.”

Without a word, John slips his hand back under Sherlock’s shirt, gently prodding his belly. It feels amazing. Sherlock’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, trying not to groan again. If he had known the sheer pleasure of this sensation, he would’ve gotten fat long ago.

Sherlock also decides that this has to be the most blatant and clumsy seduction imaginable, but since John insists on remaining clueless and stubborn, Sherlock is determined to stay the course. 

“What else did you eat today?” John says wonderingly, his fingers still kneading Sherlock’s sore, tight belly.

“Mmm. Can’t remember.”

“You’re lying.” John prods his side gently. “Might be a bit more than a plate of Angelo’s in here.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

The kneading continues. Sherlock wants to melt out of sheer bliss. John gently works his fingers over Sherlock’s generous middle. “You do realise this... isn’t really like you.”

Sherlock’s eyes fly open. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, eating. You don’t usually -- I mean. You’ve been, um.” At last, at last he rests his hand on the curve of Sherlock’s stomach and gives it a soft pat. “Getting a bit bigger, haven’t you?” 

The energy between them is electric. Sherlock finds he can’t look away from John’s nervous, uncertain gaze. John looks worried Sherlock might snap at him. Time to remedy that.

Sherlock shifts on the sofa, then looks down at his belly for a moment. “Hmm. Yes.” He watches John. “I find I... rather like it.”

John’s breath catches. “Oh. I, um.”

“Do you?” Sherlock murmurs.

He waits.

They gaze at each other. John’s lips are slightly parted, as if in shock. 

“Yeah,” John whispers.

“Good,” Sherlock breathes, and before he can say anything else, John’s lips cover his in a crushing kiss.

God, finally. Finally. Sherlock can barely think. It’s scorching, too hot for words, it’s been far too long in coming and they seem in danger of bursting into flame.

Finally, they pull apart, breathing hard, Sherlock barely able to move between the weight of his gut and the deep fire of his own arousal. 

“Christ,” John breathes, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead.

“Thought you’d like it.” Sherlock tugs John closer, nosing into his neck to kiss it.

John gasps, then pulls back, looking incredulous. “Sherlock. Did you --”

“I conducted an experiment.”

“You --” John begins to chuckle, his hand roaming under Sherlock’s shirt. “You saw that I --”

“Obviously.”

John exhales sharply, shaking his head in disbelief, but his smile is fond. “You figured out a little kink of mine, and drove me mad on purpose, you mean.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

John’s laughing now. He leans in to kiss Sherlock again, then lowers himself gently so that they’re chest to chest. Sherlock hums in pleasure, but can’t help wincing.

“Christ. Sorry,” John says, still laughing.  He pats Sherlock’s gut. “God, Sherlock. You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

“Apparently not.” 

John shifts, and they gingerly rearrange themselves, John sinking down slowly so as not to jostle Sherlock’s swollen stomach. “This okay?”

“Oh, God yes.” Sherlock’s hands cover John’s, still roaming over his middle. “I didn’t intend to -- overdo it.”

“Maybe you should rest.” John pulls back to look at him. “We can continue this later.” At Sherlock’s murderous look, he laughs again. “Okay, okay. But we’ll go slowly.”

“I’ll be -- oof -- fine.”

“Will you now.” John sucks a kiss onto Sherlock’s neck. “Because this is a pretty hefty tum you’ve got.”

Sherlock’s voice drops into a low growl. He shudders happily at John’s kiss. “You think so.”

John chuckles wickedly, gently prodding the tum in question. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a bit of a kink for this too. Makes no sense, you skinny bastard. Although --” He slides lower on the couch, pushing up Sherlock’s shirt. “Not so skinny, are you?”

“Not at the moment,” Sherlock manages.

“Not anymore, if I get my way.”