Work Text:
Hinata is becoming more aware.
He’s noticing changes. His brother is changing, and it’s making him feel…different.
He feels a numbness running through his blood, like a thick, saccharine dose of molasses injected into his veins, that seems almost non-existent, until he sees his brother, until he catches the smallest glimpse of his thickening waist, his taut, pale stomach that seems slightly larger than it was yesterday, his round cheeks and large behind, connected to a pair of thick,meaty thighs, thighs that he wants to prod and run his hands over and caress and….
No. He’s his brother, and he’s supposed to hate him. Kamukura has always been the better sibling, the one that’s praised by parents and teachers for his intelligence, his endless talent. Compared to him, the prince, high up on a throne, Hinata is at the bottom, a servant, his only purpose being to serve his brother .
That’s the way it’s always been, ever since they both opened their eyes, learnt how to talk, to walk, their first day of school, Hinata knew that he had to hate his brother.
But…it’s getting harder.
When he unlocks the door after school, when Hinata will discard his bags and text books onto the faded carpet, kicking his shoes off, before he can do any of that, Kamukura will run to the kitchen and lock himself in his bedroom, arms full of food.
Hinata will sit outside his younger brother’s door, listening to packets tare open, almost seeing crumbs and icing sugar dust his fingers as he shoves the food into his mouth, letting out a few belches, unbuttoning his trousers and sighing with relief.
And Hinata sits there for a good hour or so, and Kamukura will exit the confinement of his bedroom, rubbing and patting his round, full stomach, skin taut across his bloated balloon of a belly, licking his lips.
Hinata stares, eyes wide at Izuru’s belly. It was so flat earlier, now rounded out and bulging over his waistband.
Fuck. This shouldn’t be turning him on.
"What are you staring at, Hajime?" he asks, glancing down at Hinata with his usual un-emotive, glazed expression.
"N-nothing…don’t flatter yourself. As if I’d waste my time staring at you."
Kamukura smirks. He smirks. Usually, when he pulls that face, Hinata wants to yell at him, but not today.
He just sits there, simpering and turning into a gooey puddle of affection and warmth.
“Disgusting. You appear even more vile than usual.”
Ouch. He should be used to Izuru’s harshness, after 16 years of living with him, but, for some reason, it hurts.
Hinata stands up with shaking legs, warm palms,red cheeks.
"Ok…I’m going to do my homework…"
Hinata turns away and shuts himself behind the confinement of his plastered walls, only just noticing his erection.
*
Another few weeks pass, and Kamukura has shut himself in his bedroom yet again.
Hinata breathes in, and knocks on the door, knuckles white as a few splinters of wood ply into his skin.
"Leave me alone." is all he hears his brother say.
"I’m coming in anyway."
Hinata opens the door, and his jaw drops.
Izuru is halfway through buttoning up his shirt which is tight and riding up his doughy, large belly. Rolls of fat gather by his sides, soft chub spilling over his waistband. His thighs are wide and enclosed in trousers with splitting seams, the zip undone to make room for his wide torso. His arms are soft and jiggle slightly, his buttocks large and plump.
In less tactful words, Kamukura Izuru has gotten fat.
"Stop staring at me. I suppose you’re disgusted by my physique, but I don’t care about your boring, worthless opinion."
Hinata continues to gawk at Kamukura’s drastically different body. Just a few weeks ago, he was so slim, as tall and skinny as physically possible.
"How have you gotten so…?"
Kamukura scoffs, raising an eyebrow.
"You really are stupid, aren’t you? I decided to put on weight, it was my choice."
A long pause hangs in the room.
"So, aren’t you going to make yourself useful?"
Hinata shifts awkwardly, staring at his feet, face flushing blotchy red.
"What do you mean?" he asks, nervously adjusting his tie.
"Pick up that cake. Feed me."
By now, Hinata is squirming and fidgeting uncontrollably.
"Hurry up, I haven’t got all day."
Kamukura lies on his back, resting his head on a pillow and tapping his fingers impatiently.
Hinata notices how the bed sinks slightly where he lies, where his shirt rides up to reveal a soft, round stomach that will soon expand and tighten, filled with sugary, nauseatingly sweet snacks. It groans loudly, and he pats it.
"Can you be any slower?”
Hinata finishes cutting the cake with his shaking fingers, and walks over, resting on the bed.
"S-sorry. Here…"
The brunet’s hands are tremorous as he places a large slice of cake into his brother’s mouth. Thick cream and dense sponge enters his mouth, where he chews and gulps down hastily.
"More." Kamukura commands, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Hinata grabs a larger slice, gently pushing it into Izuru’s parted lips. He continues to feed him, the slices getting thicker, more clumsily cut, wider.
As the portions get bigger, so does Izuru’s stomach. It rounds out even more, his shirt buttons straining, so close to popping off. He unbuckles his belt and zips his trousers right down, his gut expanding further. He whimpers with relief, staring down at the red ridges in his pale skin.
"Rub it." he says. Hinata stares at his stomach with wide, childlike eyes; eyes filled with awe and eagerness.
"What…? Do I rub your stomach…?"
"What do you think I’m referring to?”
Hinata keeps his eyes on his brother’s belly, rubbing in circles, then up and down. In the silent room, he can hear the food digesting, loud gurgling and elongated groans ringing in his ears. He rests his head on Kamukura’s stomach, substituting belly rubs for gentle pats.
"T-that feels-" his words are interrupted by a small belch. "That feels really nice…"