[Supernatural] Biggest Loser (Or How Dean Beat the System)
Biggest Loser (Or How Dean Beat the System)
By: Selim
Summary: For ChubWinchesters Kink-Meme. Despite John's best efforts, Dean has always been ridiculously lazy and gluttonous, eating junk food until he can't fit anymore in and desperate to avoid any exercise, preferring to watch movies and laze around. Sam has always enabled his behaviour, making sure he stops past several fast food places on his way home from school for Dean, dropping food home at lunch, and bringing anything Dean want to his older brother so Dean wont need to use the energy - even rushing to turn the channel on the television so Dean won't need to bother with the remote. As a result by the time Dean is twenty he is so fat and unfit that he can barely waddle across the room to greet his father and Bobby when they arrive back from a long hunt.
John has had enough and decides to put Dean on a exercise regime. Dean resists every moment, whining constantly about how tired he is and desperately avoiding any exercise. When he is forced, Dean does a pathetic job, not even managing one sit up, being too weak to throw a punch and too fat to do any push ups...and falling asleep for hours after due to all the unfamiliar exercise. Dean gorges even more on food (Sam telling him he needs it because of all the exercise) and John puts him on a diet, figuring that his oldest wont help but lose weight if he is exercising and eating tiny, healthy portions.
John doesn't figure on the craftiness of his youngest though. Sam hates the thought of Dean losing any weight and makes it his mission to make sure Dean balloons, so John will give up the idea of Dean losing weight for good. Sam sneaks Dean fattening food constantly, paying the local pizza place to deliver Dean pizzas and to clean up the mess in the mornings, and the burger place to do the same in the afternoon, making 'midnight binges' a regular routine, and making sure Dean doesn't do anything at all for himself when John isn't around. As a result Dean gets colossally fat, and when Dean can barely move his arms even John admits that his eldest is never going to be able to lose the weight.
Short Summery: Dean's always been a bit lazy and a bit heavy, John just didn't realize how much until the school started calling attention to it. Now it's him versus his youngest over the appropriate way to make Dean happy. Food vs. exercise, who will win?
Pairings: Implied Sam/Dean
Rating: G/PG (language)
Kinks: Obese!Dean, Lazy!Dean, implied underweight!Sam
Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural. The author is making no monetary gain for this fiction's creation.
If John could put his finger on when this all started, he would have to say the day Mary had died. Until then, Dean had always been a slender child. After the fire it was hard to keep anything edible from his oldest son's hands - not that John really tried at first. Everyone had their own grieving methods and if Dean's involved foods, more power to him. Children were supposed to be fat, they'd shed the pounds as they grew older.
Six months after the fire, John used to catch Dean helping Sam finish off jars of baby food. His youngest was like a bird, a little here and a little there. He could go hours without foods and only seemed enraptured by his brother as Dean helped himself to whatever Sam had left.
When Dean was ten, John caught him eating half of Sam's grilled cheese. The first time he thought nothing of it. The eighth time he learned Dean always ate half of Sam's sandwiches. It was how they worked.
"I'm a bit concerned with Samuel," Ms. Mullins whispered to him during a parent-teacher conference. In the corner of the room the boy in question was running around the play boxes, bringing instructed toys to his heavy brother. John had half a mind to tell his fatter son to get off his little ass and fetch his own toys instead of using Sam as his little slave. "Every lunch he only eats half of his food and request to bring the rest to Dean. We allowed him to at first because of his reasoning, I mean we've all grown up in houses where you just don't throw away food, but I don't think it's a matter of waste. I worry that he's limited his own food intake for Dean. If it is all right, we would like to keep Sam in the classroom during lunch periods to avoid...um, enabling his brother's weight problems, if that is all right with you."
John had agreed because he was concerned about Dean's weight problem and Sam's lack of one. The concern died away after a month in when he caught his youngest pulling out carefully wrapped school lunches from his book bag, feeding Dean after school.
At twelve Dean weighed five pounds more than his father. The boy had trouble breathing when he ran at school and after a claimed asthma attack during gym was suggested to sit out while the other children ran around the soccer field. Dean had seemed almost proud of this situation later that evening as he sat on his motel bed, stuffing his face with popcorn and flipping channels on the remote.
"Get up, Dean." He shut the door to the motel. "You too, Sam." He watched both his son's. Sam jumped off the bed, landing with grace on the floor as if he were training to be an Olympic gymnast. Dean rolled off the bed, gripped his wobbly knees, and wheezed. "We're going out to run laps."
"What? No, dad!" Dean cried. Sam looked between his father and brother, desperation written across his face. "I did laps at school today, it was horrible."
"Practice makes perfect, let's go." He opened the door and led his boy out. Pointing to the stop sign at the end of the street he grunted, "I want you boys to run - not walk - to that sign. If you feel a burn, keep pushing don't stop." Dean's fat lip dropped, but ever a good boy he started running with Sam hot on his heels.
Going back in the motel room, he grabbed Dean's bag of popcorn and trashed it. This was followed with the chocolate PopTarts, sugary cereal, leftover fried chicken, and whole milk. It seemed endless, cleaning the junk food from their lives. These were the cheaper foods, the ones that survived the longest in the harshest of times.
These were the things killing his boy.
Grabbing the trash can, John started back out the door only to stop again. Dean hadn't even made it past the motel office door where he leaned against the pole, stuffing his face with a bagel as Sam clapped his hands excitedly until he caught sight of his father and knocked the bread from Dean's overstuffed mouth. Again the two started running, Sam at a reasonable pace and Dean with an uneven gait.
Lord, save him.
It took thirty minutes of Dean's groaning and begging his father to have mercy before he let the boy back in the motel. "On the floor, Dean."
"Dad," Sam grabbed his arm, "I think Dean's gonna die, we can do this tomorrow."
"Now raise your upper body. Damn it boy, keep your feet on the ground, and bend the torso- the torso!" He put his booted foot on his son's sneakers, trying to keep the boy's feet flat. This only seemed to encourage Dean to heave up by tugging on his neck which looked more uncomfortable than the Igor Run he'd done only a few minutes before.
He wasn't even all the way crunched up before Dean fell flat on his back, arms stretched out and little lungs breathing heavy.
Is he... inducing an asthma attack?
John watched in horror as his son panted to heavy until the air caught in his lungs and he began coughing and hacking, curling into a ball. Sam dropped next to his brother, petting Dean's back sympathetically.
Throwing his hands up, John grabbed the bag of junk food. "I'm going to throw this shit away. Starting today you're dieting and exercising Dean. If I find one fatty food in your hand, you'll do another run up the street."
He just had to remain steadfast. He'd seen fatter guys in basic drop weight in six weeks. Dean wasn't going to stand a chance.
Only, he seemed to underestimate his youngest. For all his attempts to make Dean lose weight, Sam seemed more interested in countering those methods.
"What are you eating, Dean-o?" John asked, two days later as they prepared to leave the gas station connected to a McDonalds. His oldest had been given a salad and water at the rest stop, but he'd caught sight of the half-chewed food in his son's mouth and there was no salad in the world that was brown and white.
An embarrassing ten minute fight in the parking lot came about finding seven chicken nuggets in his oldest son's pockets. Sam crudely informed him that only cows eat grass and Dean was no cow.
"He certainly looks like on-" John swallowed, shook his head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Dean." He whispered to his sulking son. "Just... Sam, you have to understand I'm trying to help Dean lose weight. We can't be sneaking him food."
"But it makes Dean happy, don't you want Dean to be happy?" Sam blinked owlishly.
"Of course I do, it's just..." He watched his oldest son, picking away at his teeth to pull pieces of chicken from his teeth. "You'll understand when you're older." He started the car and started the car and pulled back on the road.
A month later, Dean weighed in five pounds heavier than he'd been at the start of his diet. Sam denied knowing anything about the cause until CPS came to investigate why Sam was sneaking food out of school (wasn't John providing the poor boy with sustenance at home?). A quick glance at Dean had the stiff old woman apologizing profusely for suspecting abuse. She also left John with a possible therapist and nutritionist for Dean's health.
It took a year before John caught his youngest again. The boy had been telling every waitress between Lawrence to Phoenix that it was his birthday, earning a free cake here or a celebratory pie there. Each treat was stuffed in his backpack until John went out to the library to research. While gone Sam hand-fed his older brother, telling Dean to save his strength until they would have PT in the morning. A poorly planned exhibition to the library that came back moot let John catch him in the act.
Sam didn't understand what he was doing wrong. Dean always ate. It was John who was being a jerk and taking away Dean's only source of happiness.
By year three, Dean couldn't even bend himself to do a crunch. The boy wheezed and groaned about being stuck on the floor before purposely flailing when Sam called him a turtle.
At sixteen, Dean weighed in at almost three hundred pounds and John burst a gasket as his oldest sat on the couch of their motel and informed John he was no longer going to attempt a sit up because it wasn't going to make him lose weight. "Some people were just born to be fat, I'm one of them," Dean shrugged his shoulders. Attempting to fold himself to grab the remote from the TV stand, Dean grunted as his fingers failed to reach.
John waited to see what his oldest would do.
"Sammy?" Dean sang out.
From the bathroom the youngest stumbled in, breathing a bit heavy as if he'd run a marathon. John took note of the phone cord leading into the toilet. "Yeah Dean?"
"Can't reach the remote."
"You shouldn't be stretching to get that," Sam cried, flabbergasted, "I could get it for you, all you gotta do is ask!" He grabbed the remote and put it in Dean's hand. When the buttons failed to work due to bad batteries, Sam settled next to the television, pushing the power button. As he attempted to stand up, Dean whined.
"I don't wanna watch Springer..."
"Oh!" Sam flipped the channel.
"No."
"How about this?"
"Ugh..."
"This one?"
"Seen it."
Sitting on his bed, John stared blankly at a wall as he listened for almost an hour Sam flip each channel until Dean decided the first show he'd dismissed would be satisfactory.
"You're the best little brother in the world."
"Love ya, Dean."
"Love you more than pizza, Sam."
"That's a lot!"
"Damn straight it is."
John groaned into his hands.
By the time Dean was twenty, John knew he'd lost. If he put his phone number at the local pizza shop as a Do Not Sell client, Sam paid a local junky to get him pizza. Plain water was switched with carbonated water and chocolate syrup came in shampoo bottles. Sam's love for his brother went a different direction that John's love for his son.
It was going to hurt doing this, John realized as he slowed his vehicle to a stop outside the motel they had been staying at. Bobby's truck pulled alongside him, the other man groaning as he stretched. "Know you didn't invite me out here just to help you with a salt and burn, Winchester." Bobby shifted his hat. "The boys okay?"
"I need you to take Dean." John admitted. "I'll come back for him, it's just... I got to get the boys separated for a bit."
"What's going on, John?" Bobby followed behind him. Pulling the key from his pocket, John bit his lip before opening the motel room.
Inside was about what he expected. Sam was always up to no good when John was away for any stretch of time and today his youngest had brought a cake and was feeding Dean fork-full's as his oldest watched movies with a fixation that seemed unhealthy. Sam pierced his lips together, picking up the half eaten box of cake to put away. Dean took immediate notice to the disappearance of his snack, watching his brother with horror.
"Dude, don't throw that away, I won it fair and square!"
"I know, I know. Thirty two hot dogs, going for a record."
"Should totally go into that competition. Just need to down them a little faster." Dean pinched his fat fingers together before flashing a bright smile towards the door. "Bobby, man, what are you doing here?"
"Your father invited me over to say 'hi' to you two. You're looking good, there, Dean."
The twenty year old smiled and patted his fat belly. "I know, put on a few pounds since the last time you saw me, but it's good. Sam takes real good care of me." He craned his fat neck towards the kitchen where Sam was busy putting the cake away. "Sam, can you give Bobby and big hug for me?"
Bright eyed and bushy tailed, Sam did just that before backing up and settling right next to Dean. With a glance towards John, Bobby nodded his agreement. There wasn't much John could do while the boys were together. It was a losing battle to keep trying.
And when Sam left John again, two weeks later, it wasn't surprising when Dean also vanished a few days after. It was inevitable, Bobby murmured on the other side of his line. Dean liked who he was and Sam loved how Dean was. So was the life of a food addict and his enabler.
By: Selim
Summary: For ChubWinchesters Kink-Meme. Despite John's best efforts, Dean has always been ridiculously lazy and gluttonous, eating junk food until he can't fit anymore in and desperate to avoid any exercise, preferring to watch movies and laze around. Sam has always enabled his behaviour, making sure he stops past several fast food places on his way home from school for Dean, dropping food home at lunch, and bringing anything Dean want to his older brother so Dean wont need to use the energy - even rushing to turn the channel on the television so Dean won't need to bother with the remote. As a result by the time Dean is twenty he is so fat and unfit that he can barely waddle across the room to greet his father and Bobby when they arrive back from a long hunt.
John has had enough and decides to put Dean on a exercise regime. Dean resists every moment, whining constantly about how tired he is and desperately avoiding any exercise. When he is forced, Dean does a pathetic job, not even managing one sit up, being too weak to throw a punch and too fat to do any push ups...and falling asleep for hours after due to all the unfamiliar exercise. Dean gorges even more on food (Sam telling him he needs it because of all the exercise) and John puts him on a diet, figuring that his oldest wont help but lose weight if he is exercising and eating tiny, healthy portions.
John doesn't figure on the craftiness of his youngest though. Sam hates the thought of Dean losing any weight and makes it his mission to make sure Dean balloons, so John will give up the idea of Dean losing weight for good. Sam sneaks Dean fattening food constantly, paying the local pizza place to deliver Dean pizzas and to clean up the mess in the mornings, and the burger place to do the same in the afternoon, making 'midnight binges' a regular routine, and making sure Dean doesn't do anything at all for himself when John isn't around. As a result Dean gets colossally fat, and when Dean can barely move his arms even John admits that his eldest is never going to be able to lose the weight.
Short Summery: Dean's always been a bit lazy and a bit heavy, John just didn't realize how much until the school started calling attention to it. Now it's him versus his youngest over the appropriate way to make Dean happy. Food vs. exercise, who will win?
Pairings: Implied Sam/Dean
Rating: G/PG (language)
Kinks: Obese!Dean, Lazy!Dean, implied underweight!Sam
Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural. The author is making no monetary gain for this fiction's creation.
If John could put his finger on when this all started, he would have to say the day Mary had died. Until then, Dean had always been a slender child. After the fire it was hard to keep anything edible from his oldest son's hands - not that John really tried at first. Everyone had their own grieving methods and if Dean's involved foods, more power to him. Children were supposed to be fat, they'd shed the pounds as they grew older.
Six months after the fire, John used to catch Dean helping Sam finish off jars of baby food. His youngest was like a bird, a little here and a little there. He could go hours without foods and only seemed enraptured by his brother as Dean helped himself to whatever Sam had left.
When Dean was ten, John caught him eating half of Sam's grilled cheese. The first time he thought nothing of it. The eighth time he learned Dean always ate half of Sam's sandwiches. It was how they worked.
"I'm a bit concerned with Samuel," Ms. Mullins whispered to him during a parent-teacher conference. In the corner of the room the boy in question was running around the play boxes, bringing instructed toys to his heavy brother. John had half a mind to tell his fatter son to get off his little ass and fetch his own toys instead of using Sam as his little slave. "Every lunch he only eats half of his food and request to bring the rest to Dean. We allowed him to at first because of his reasoning, I mean we've all grown up in houses where you just don't throw away food, but I don't think it's a matter of waste. I worry that he's limited his own food intake for Dean. If it is all right, we would like to keep Sam in the classroom during lunch periods to avoid...um, enabling his brother's weight problems, if that is all right with you."
John had agreed because he was concerned about Dean's weight problem and Sam's lack of one. The concern died away after a month in when he caught his youngest pulling out carefully wrapped school lunches from his book bag, feeding Dean after school.
At twelve Dean weighed five pounds more than his father. The boy had trouble breathing when he ran at school and after a claimed asthma attack during gym was suggested to sit out while the other children ran around the soccer field. Dean had seemed almost proud of this situation later that evening as he sat on his motel bed, stuffing his face with popcorn and flipping channels on the remote.
"Get up, Dean." He shut the door to the motel. "You too, Sam." He watched both his son's. Sam jumped off the bed, landing with grace on the floor as if he were training to be an Olympic gymnast. Dean rolled off the bed, gripped his wobbly knees, and wheezed. "We're going out to run laps."
"What? No, dad!" Dean cried. Sam looked between his father and brother, desperation written across his face. "I did laps at school today, it was horrible."
"Practice makes perfect, let's go." He opened the door and led his boy out. Pointing to the stop sign at the end of the street he grunted, "I want you boys to run - not walk - to that sign. If you feel a burn, keep pushing don't stop." Dean's fat lip dropped, but ever a good boy he started running with Sam hot on his heels.
Going back in the motel room, he grabbed Dean's bag of popcorn and trashed it. This was followed with the chocolate PopTarts, sugary cereal, leftover fried chicken, and whole milk. It seemed endless, cleaning the junk food from their lives. These were the cheaper foods, the ones that survived the longest in the harshest of times.
These were the things killing his boy.
Grabbing the trash can, John started back out the door only to stop again. Dean hadn't even made it past the motel office door where he leaned against the pole, stuffing his face with a bagel as Sam clapped his hands excitedly until he caught sight of his father and knocked the bread from Dean's overstuffed mouth. Again the two started running, Sam at a reasonable pace and Dean with an uneven gait.
Lord, save him.
It took thirty minutes of Dean's groaning and begging his father to have mercy before he let the boy back in the motel. "On the floor, Dean."
"Dad," Sam grabbed his arm, "I think Dean's gonna die, we can do this tomorrow."
"Now raise your upper body. Damn it boy, keep your feet on the ground, and bend the torso- the torso!" He put his booted foot on his son's sneakers, trying to keep the boy's feet flat. This only seemed to encourage Dean to heave up by tugging on his neck which looked more uncomfortable than the Igor Run he'd done only a few minutes before.
He wasn't even all the way crunched up before Dean fell flat on his back, arms stretched out and little lungs breathing heavy.
Is he... inducing an asthma attack?
John watched in horror as his son panted to heavy until the air caught in his lungs and he began coughing and hacking, curling into a ball. Sam dropped next to his brother, petting Dean's back sympathetically.
Throwing his hands up, John grabbed the bag of junk food. "I'm going to throw this shit away. Starting today you're dieting and exercising Dean. If I find one fatty food in your hand, you'll do another run up the street."
He just had to remain steadfast. He'd seen fatter guys in basic drop weight in six weeks. Dean wasn't going to stand a chance.
Only, he seemed to underestimate his youngest. For all his attempts to make Dean lose weight, Sam seemed more interested in countering those methods.
"What are you eating, Dean-o?" John asked, two days later as they prepared to leave the gas station connected to a McDonalds. His oldest had been given a salad and water at the rest stop, but he'd caught sight of the half-chewed food in his son's mouth and there was no salad in the world that was brown and white.
An embarrassing ten minute fight in the parking lot came about finding seven chicken nuggets in his oldest son's pockets. Sam crudely informed him that only cows eat grass and Dean was no cow.
"He certainly looks like on-" John swallowed, shook his head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Dean." He whispered to his sulking son. "Just... Sam, you have to understand I'm trying to help Dean lose weight. We can't be sneaking him food."
"But it makes Dean happy, don't you want Dean to be happy?" Sam blinked owlishly.
"Of course I do, it's just..." He watched his oldest son, picking away at his teeth to pull pieces of chicken from his teeth. "You'll understand when you're older." He started the car and started the car and pulled back on the road.
A month later, Dean weighed in five pounds heavier than he'd been at the start of his diet. Sam denied knowing anything about the cause until CPS came to investigate why Sam was sneaking food out of school (wasn't John providing the poor boy with sustenance at home?). A quick glance at Dean had the stiff old woman apologizing profusely for suspecting abuse. She also left John with a possible therapist and nutritionist for Dean's health.
It took a year before John caught his youngest again. The boy had been telling every waitress between Lawrence to Phoenix that it was his birthday, earning a free cake here or a celebratory pie there. Each treat was stuffed in his backpack until John went out to the library to research. While gone Sam hand-fed his older brother, telling Dean to save his strength until they would have PT in the morning. A poorly planned exhibition to the library that came back moot let John catch him in the act.
Sam didn't understand what he was doing wrong. Dean always ate. It was John who was being a jerk and taking away Dean's only source of happiness.
By year three, Dean couldn't even bend himself to do a crunch. The boy wheezed and groaned about being stuck on the floor before purposely flailing when Sam called him a turtle.
At sixteen, Dean weighed in at almost three hundred pounds and John burst a gasket as his oldest sat on the couch of their motel and informed John he was no longer going to attempt a sit up because it wasn't going to make him lose weight. "Some people were just born to be fat, I'm one of them," Dean shrugged his shoulders. Attempting to fold himself to grab the remote from the TV stand, Dean grunted as his fingers failed to reach.
John waited to see what his oldest would do.
"Sammy?" Dean sang out.
From the bathroom the youngest stumbled in, breathing a bit heavy as if he'd run a marathon. John took note of the phone cord leading into the toilet. "Yeah Dean?"
"Can't reach the remote."
"You shouldn't be stretching to get that," Sam cried, flabbergasted, "I could get it for you, all you gotta do is ask!" He grabbed the remote and put it in Dean's hand. When the buttons failed to work due to bad batteries, Sam settled next to the television, pushing the power button. As he attempted to stand up, Dean whined.
"I don't wanna watch Springer..."
"Oh!" Sam flipped the channel.
"No."
"How about this?"
"Ugh..."
"This one?"
"Seen it."
Sitting on his bed, John stared blankly at a wall as he listened for almost an hour Sam flip each channel until Dean decided the first show he'd dismissed would be satisfactory.
"You're the best little brother in the world."
"Love ya, Dean."
"Love you more than pizza, Sam."
"That's a lot!"
"Damn straight it is."
John groaned into his hands.
By the time Dean was twenty, John knew he'd lost. If he put his phone number at the local pizza shop as a Do Not Sell client, Sam paid a local junky to get him pizza. Plain water was switched with carbonated water and chocolate syrup came in shampoo bottles. Sam's love for his brother went a different direction that John's love for his son.
It was going to hurt doing this, John realized as he slowed his vehicle to a stop outside the motel they had been staying at. Bobby's truck pulled alongside him, the other man groaning as he stretched. "Know you didn't invite me out here just to help you with a salt and burn, Winchester." Bobby shifted his hat. "The boys okay?"
"I need you to take Dean." John admitted. "I'll come back for him, it's just... I got to get the boys separated for a bit."
"What's going on, John?" Bobby followed behind him. Pulling the key from his pocket, John bit his lip before opening the motel room.
Inside was about what he expected. Sam was always up to no good when John was away for any stretch of time and today his youngest had brought a cake and was feeding Dean fork-full's as his oldest watched movies with a fixation that seemed unhealthy. Sam pierced his lips together, picking up the half eaten box of cake to put away. Dean took immediate notice to the disappearance of his snack, watching his brother with horror.
"Dude, don't throw that away, I won it fair and square!"
"I know, I know. Thirty two hot dogs, going for a record."
"Should totally go into that competition. Just need to down them a little faster." Dean pinched his fat fingers together before flashing a bright smile towards the door. "Bobby, man, what are you doing here?"
"Your father invited me over to say 'hi' to you two. You're looking good, there, Dean."
The twenty year old smiled and patted his fat belly. "I know, put on a few pounds since the last time you saw me, but it's good. Sam takes real good care of me." He craned his fat neck towards the kitchen where Sam was busy putting the cake away. "Sam, can you give Bobby and big hug for me?"
Bright eyed and bushy tailed, Sam did just that before backing up and settling right next to Dean. With a glance towards John, Bobby nodded his agreement. There wasn't much John could do while the boys were together. It was a losing battle to keep trying.
And when Sam left John again, two weeks later, it wasn't surprising when Dean also vanished a few days after. It was inevitable, Bobby murmured on the other side of his line. Dean liked who he was and Sam loved how Dean was. So was the life of a food addict and his enabler.