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Dean opens his eyes with a groan. His head is pounding fiercely and feels too heavy for his neck. He takes a few shaky breaths and, somehow, musters up enough energy to look around.
He’s in the bunker, but his arms and legs are tied to one of the sturdy chairs in the library. His memory is a little foggy and he doesn’t quite remember what happened, but he does recall coming back from a case two towns over.
Blinking his eyes, he looks around. His stomach sinks when he doesn’t see his brother anywhere. Despite the headache, he knows that Sam had been with him.
Dean tenses when he hears footsteps approach. He balls his hands to fists and gets ready to face the asshole that has decided to break into their home.
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” a familiar voice purrs and Dean freezes. It can’t be.
When the owner of the voice walks into his field of view, it feels like he’s getting doused with ice water. “Sammy…” he whispers.
Sam smiles darkly. “Hello, big brother.”
It’s not Sam. Dean knows it’s not Sam. The smell of sulfur is burning Dean’s nostrils and he growls. “Get out of my brother, you sick fuck!”
The demon laughs loudly. Then he bends down and grips Dean’s jaw tightly. He smirks. “You’re so adorable when you’re angry.”
Dean yanks his head out of the monster’s grasp and sneers at him. He’s mad at himself for not noticing sooner that something is up with Sam. He should have seen this coming, even though he doesn't know how the demon managed to possess his brother. It should be impossible.
“Don’t blame yourself, hot stuff,” the demon chuckles, as if reading Dean’s mind. “I played the part well, didn’t I? You totally believed I was Sammy.”
“What did you do to him?” Dean growls.
The demon rolls his eyes dramatically. “I didn’t do anything to your precious baby brother. He’s still around,” he says and pats his chest. “He’s just… preoccupied right now.”
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus—”
“Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the demon interrupts. He’s holding a knife to his—or rather, Sam’s—throat. “One more word and I’m going to damage Sammy’s body beyond repair.”
Dean grits his teeth. “What do you want?”
The demon smirks and lowers the knife. He knows he’s won.
“I wanna have some fun,” he says with a casual shrug. Then he grins at Dean with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “With you.”
Dean shudders. This can’t be good.
The demon shoves the knife in the back of Sam's jeans and approaches Dean. He runs his finger down Dean’s cheek with a wistful look in his eyes. “The human body is so fragile, but at the same time so strong and durable,” he hums. He moves his finger down Dean’s throat and across his shoulders. “I love testing its limits.”
Dean doesn’t like where this is going. He tries to pull away when the hand dips even lowered to his chest, but he can’t escape the invasive touch. Bound to the chair, there’s nowhere for him to go.
“My favorite part of the human body is the stomach,” the demon continues. He slides his hand over Dean’s belly. “I love how it expands and bulges. It’s fascinating.”
“Great. Of course I get a demon with some weird-ass kink,” Dean growls. He tries to ignore the way his brother’s familiar hands are touching and fondling him.
Instead of getting angry, the demon just laughs in his face. “Don’t worry. You’re going to enjoy it just as much as I will. As soon as I saw you and that big appetite of yours, I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He gives Dean’s stomach a squeeze. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”
Dean tries not to show his unease when the demon starts to bring more and more food to the library. He puts everything on the table and Dean’s pretty sure he’s raiding their entire kitchen.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about humans, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to eat all that,” Dean says.
“We’ll see about that,” the demon replies and picks up a takeout box with leftovers. “Open up.”
Dean fights the urge to keep his mouth tightly shut. He’s not hungry and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be fed by some evil sucker from hell, but he doesn’t really have a choice. If he doesn’t comply, the demon is going to hurt Sam, and that’s something Dean is never ever going to let happen.
Reluctantly, he opens his mouth and allows the demon to put a forkful of cold noodles in his mouth.
“Good boy.”
Dean doesn’t say a word as the demon continues to feed him. He opens his mouth, chews and swallows. The demon praises and pets him like a dog and Dean tries not to growl. He avoids looking at the monster, because the fact that he’s wearing Sam’s face is making everything even worse.
Dean has finished off the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner, as well as an entire tub of ice cream, when he begins to feel full. When the next forkful nudges against his lips, he turns his head away.
The demon chuckles. “You’re not done already, are you?”
Dean glares at him.
The demon laughs, high-pitched and too loud. “I don’t think you understand how this works, hot stuff. I am the one who says when you are done. Now open your damn mouth or I’ll make your brother pay for it!”
Dean grits his teeth and parts his lips.
“That’s what I thought,” the demon grins and shoves another bite in Dean’s mouth.
The demon forces half a box of cookies, some carrots and almost an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat, before Dean stops again. His stomach is starting to feel really full and there’s a dull, cramping pain right below his sternum.
“You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?” the demon smirks. He puts down the juice and grins gleefully. Reaching out, he rubs a hand over Dean’s belly. “It’s beginning to feel tight, isn’t it?”
Dean closes his eyes. The touch feels invasive and uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to think about how his stomach is starting to bulge and swell with everything that’s being crammed into it.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m going to take care of you.”
With Sam’s large hands, the demon begins to massage Dean’s full belly. He’s not being rough and the touch isn’t painful, but it doesn’t feel right, either.
Dean’s stomach gurgles loudly and he swallows down the air that’s threatening to escape. He winces when it adds even more pressure to his already tight gut.
The demon chuckles and gives Dean’s rumbling belly a few pats. “Sounds like you’ve got some air trapped in there.”
Dean grimaces when he starts to apply more pressure. The rumbling in his stomach gets louder and Dean feels the air pockets shift. They travel up his throat and he belches loudly.
“That’s it,” the demon approves and keeps massaging.
Dean feels humiliated.
“W-Wait…” Dean grunts what feels like an eternity later.
By now, the table is littered with mostly empty containers, boxes and wrapping paper. There are only a few edible items left.
Dean takes a shaky breath. He’s covered in cold sweat and his head feels muddled. Without meaning to, he looks down at himself. What he sees is making him feel sick.
His normally flat stomach is grotesquely distended. It’s stretching the material of his grey shirt and the waistband of his jeans is digging painfully into his abdomen. Horrible cramps are clawing at his insides and he feels sicker than even before in his life.
“I-I can’t eat anymore…” he groans.
The demon hums. He chucks away the loaf of bread he was holding and crouches down in front of him. He frames his swollen belly with both hands and smiles. “I like this.”
Dean moans quietly and squeezes his eyes shut. Nausea is hitting him in powerful waves and he burps wetly. He’s not feeling well.
“You’re okay,” the demon shushes him and gives his belly a good rub. “You’re not going to throw up, because then we would have to start all over again, and I’m sure you don’t want that?”
Dean’s stomach gurgles sickly. No, he definitely does not want that.
“Let’s make you a little more comfortable, shall we?”
Dean tenses when the demon’s hands tug on his belt. He swallows thickly. “N-No,” he stammers.
The demon rolls his eyes. “Quit whining. It doesn’t suit you,” he huffs as he unbuckles Dean’s belt. "I'm not going to do anything inappropriate to you."
Despite feeling like he’s about to fall into a food coma, Dean catches the glint of the knife the demon still carries around in the back of Sam’s jeans. Dean grits his teeth. He has to put an end to this before his stomach bursts.
The demon is still tugging on his belt, when Dean goes completely limp. His head falls forward and he slumps as far down as the ties around his limbs allow.
He hears the demon curse, before he slaps his cheek. Dean doesn’t react. Leaning in, the demon presses two fingers against the side of Dean’s throat. His hip brushes against Dean’s arm and, in a move that could go very badly, Dean snatches the knife and hides it under his arm. It’s awkward and he winces when the blade slices into his own skin. Then he lurches forward with a strangled gasp.
The demon jumps back, startled. “What the hell was that?!” he yells.
Dean blinks. “I-I think I passed out…”
“Don’t you dare die on me, hot stuff. We’re not done yet.”
Dean’s stomach quivers. There’s no way he’s going to be able to eat just one more bite.
“Can you at least get me a glass of water?” Dean begs, and he knows that he doesn’t have to put much effort into sounding pathetic.
“Fine,” the demon huffs and stalks away.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Dean begins to saw on the ropes that are looped around his wrists. The first one snaps and he blows out a breath. He makes quick work of the one on his other hand and then bends down to cut off the others. The pain in his stomach instantly worsens when he bends down and he feels like he’s going to puke. He burps sickly and presses the back of his hand to his mouth.
When the ties around his ankles fall away, Dean pushes himself to his feet. His center of gravity is off and a headrush makes him stumble. His stomach cramps and he feels like he’s going to pass out for real. He doesn’t have time for this right now.
Hunched over, he shuffles toward the archway that leads down the hallway to the kitchen. He presses his back against it and waits.
When he hears the familiar footsteps approach again, he holds his breath.
The moment the demon walks around the corner, Dean slams into him from the side and knocks him off his feet. The demon falls with a surprised gasp and Dean doesn’t hesitate a second before he starts to recite the demon exorcism.
The demon hisses and rages when black smoke starts to pour from Sam’s mouth. Dean doesn’t stop until the demon has completely dissipated, leaving behind his limp brother.
Dean wants to check on Sam, but with the demon gone, so is his adrenaline. His knees buckle and he falls. His full stomach cramps agonizingly and Dean barely manages to turn away before vomit is pouring out of him. Wave after wave of nausea is crashing over him and he’s barely able to suck in a breath in between heaves.
A pair of hands grab him around the shoulders and haul him upright. Completely out of it, Dean doesn’t know what’s happening until he’s lowered to his knees in one of the bathroom stalls.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry,” Sam mutters over and over again, while Dean throws up everything the demon has forced him to choke down. His stomach rumbles and whines and he feels as if he’s dying. Pain, nausea and exhaustion are fighting for dominance and he barely manages to keep himself upright.
A feeling like he’s been stabbed in the gut is the last thing he's aware of before he loses consciousness.
When Dean comes to, he’s lying on his side on a soft surface. A blanket is covering him up to his shoulders and a warm body is pressed up against his back. He doesn’t have to check to know it’s his brother.
Taking stock of himself, he notices the uncomfortable heaviness in his belly. He flinches when he remembers what he went through with that sick fucker.
Dean’s stomach gurgles sickly and, even though he hasn’t said a word yet, Sam’s hand rubs over it protectively. It feels nice.
“Dean? Are you awake?”
Dean swallows. “Yeah.”
Sam shifts and Dean feels his brother’s eyes on him.
“How are you feeling? How’s your stomach?” he asks.
Dean doesn’t know how to answer that. He still feels a little out of it. There’s still an underlying feeling of nausea and his belly feels full and tight. He sighs and mumbles, “Been better.”
“I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to—”
“Sam, it’s alright,” Dean interrupts the apology. He puts his hand on top of his brother’s and moves it to where the cramps are the worst. “Just keep rubbing my belly and we’re even.”
Sam kisses his shoulder. “Deal.”
With Sam’s warm palm soothing the ache in his stomach, Dean manages to doze off again. He’s never going to look at food the same…