Bro, You're Santa!
A new seasonally appropriate fic with my OCs, Chet and Jack. EDIT: Now with thumbnail. Plus a sentence change.
Chet made a mistake and now he's looking a lot like Santa Clause. And Jack finds that it's hard to take his eyes off him.
As Jack approaches the door to his apartment, the sound of muffled Christmas music reaches his ears. He groans with fatigue, but still reaches out and unlocks the door. When he opens the door, he suffers the full assault of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” to his ears. Fortunately, it’s his preferred variant, the Crystals cover.
Looking inward towards the kitchen, he spots a man shaking his wide booty to the music and putting something into the oven. To the average unaware individual, the man’s plump figure and holly-jolly spirit would have him mistaken for the Santa Clause. However, Jack knows better. The man inside his home, is none-other than his best bud Chet.
Who just happens to have been slowly transforming into Santa Clause.
“Hey, Chet! I’m back from work.” Jack greets his roommate.
Chet, suddenly springs upright in shock. He turns around, chubby cheeks extra rosy with embarrassment. “Jack! Sorry dear, ahem, Bro. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon!” He closes the oven door. He gives his beach ball of a gut a pat and chuckles, “I’ve been baking some warm treats for us to enjoy.” He reaches for a small controller on the counter top and pauses the music.
Jack approaches Chet sighs, “It’s okay if you keep the music on, Mr. Clause,” he ends his sentence with a teasing tone.
Chet strokes at his fluffy and increasingly silver beard. He responds with an unenthused, “Ho ho ho. Aren’t you a cheeky young man.”
Previously on the first of December, Chet and Jack had visited his friend Maximus, the self-proclaimed sorcerer. While Max was in another room, Chet spotted a plate of particularly appetizing Christmas sugar cookies. Overcome with a craving for sugar, he snatched one and quickly wolfed it down. Soon after, Max returned into the room dressed in fanciful robes and eagerly explained his plans to summon the spirit of Santa Clause. And that the sugar cookies were an offering for the ritual…
Neither Chet or Jack was willing to come clean about what Chet had done. Maximus carried out his ritual none the wiser. Upon the completion of his arcane chanting, the rest of the cookies dispersed into light. But in the jolly saint had not appeared. Instead, Chet was suddenly feeling incredibly stuffed and bloated.
Maximus quickly deduced what had gone awry, and immediately chewed Chet out. Chet was too busy groaning and rubbing his sore gut to listen. Jack, worried about his buddy, asked what would happen to him. Max explained, that there was a chance that santa’s spirit would manifest within Chet and that he would change accordingly.
Chet snapped out of his stupor, “Wait! Am I gonna get old and fat!? Can’t you stop it?”
Max glared with disappointment, “No. You’ll have to wait until the spirit leaves your body. Which may take until the end of the holidays.”
In response, Chet dropped to his knees and yelled at the heavens, “NOOOOOOO…”
Now, on December 17th, Chet is far along in his “Santafication.” Much of hard-earned muscular definition was smothered with fat. Chet’s six pack abs were slowly replaced with a hefty jiggly ball gut which sags like dough over his waistband and fills his lap entirely as he sits down. The sides of his previously narrow waist also expanded, he now has thick and wide-reaching love handles that help his gut complete the “muffin top” above his hips.
Of course, Chet’s hips were also vastly wider and more voluptuous. The tight cheeks of his rear, had ballooned into a voluminous- chair busting ass, with a surplus of jiggle. His thighs, which were sleek squatting machines, are now engorged thunder thighs that rub together as he walks. And make for a perfect lap to sit on.
Further up, his chest had also become fatter. Chet’s square pectorals, became round and plump with fat and sag onto the top of his gut. The sides of his chest had become a shelf a fat. When sitting down, his chest fat and love handles squeeze together in folds. His strong triceps were now hidden by a sleeve of fat. He could still sort of show the bulge of muscle by flexing his arms, but the flabby fat hanging down from them dampers such display.
Even further up, his neck and head also aren’t spared. His neck is thicker with fat, particularly the underside of his chin, where a meaty second chin has formed. Although it’s difficult for others to see past his beard. Chet is distinctly aware of the sensation of it bunching up when he tilts his head down. Finally, his cheeks have a gentle roundness to them that gives the impression they are full even while empty.
Aside from the girth changes, Chet also gained other appropriately Santa-esque characteristics. Chet’s red-orange hair has been changing to a silvery-white hue. By now much of the original color has been replaced. Only a few spots retain their original color. Such as the edges of his beard and the hair atop his scalp.
Chet’s hair is also far more abundant now. Chet wasn’t a particularly hairy person before, and he had a habit of keeping himself trimmed down all over. But now, long curly white hairs cover his body. Before he only had a bit of scruff on his chin. Now, he has a magnificent handle-bar mustache and a full and curly beard.
The Santafication gave Chet a few other more aged features. The sides of his eyes wrinkled into “crow’s feet”. His forehead now has pronounced creases, plus his hairline had receded slightly. His voice is deeper now and has a gentle rasp to it.
Chet’s current form was such a sharp contrast to his original youthful and jacked body. And yet, despite his initial distress, Chet has been quite comfortable with the changes. No, it isn’t just that. He actually seems to be enjoying looking like Santa!
Jack frowns and starts to fret, “Bro, it’s not just your body that’s gotten more Santa-like!”
Chet sighs and shakes his head. “You’re worrying to much, Jack.” Chet picks up a glass of eggnog, and begins guzzling it like water. He used to dislike the stuff…
Reflexively, Jack gazes up and down Chet’s body with a focused gaze. Chet’s current outfit, is suitably off-the-clock Santa. A white t-shirt that clung to his curves, and only barely reached past his navel. Seeing as it could stretch that far, it’s probably Jack’s shirt that he borrowed. On his legs, he’s wearing a pair of dark red plaid sweatpants. Which cling to his fat legs and ass like sausage casings. On top of it all, he was wearing a “kiss the cook” apron (which coincidently was gifted to him last Christmas by his sister.) which fit snug around his round belly. Jack was curious how Chet managed to tie it together, a cursory glance at his back provided an answer; the two strings were tied with a repurposed shoelace between them.
Chet finishes his eggnog. He bumps his chest with his fist and lets out a burp. Jack bites his lip as he feels his face get warm.
“Excuse me!” Chet blushes as he apologizes. “Now back to the topic at hand… I just figured that if I’m going to be Santa, I might as well get into the spirit of things and enjoy myself.” He proudly strokes his beard.
“But Bro…” Jack hesitates to argue as his eyes drift towards the words on the apron. “Wh-what about your gains Bro? You haven’t been to the gym in almost 2 weeks!” Chet grumbles, “Only because I was tired of the judgmental glares.” He squishes the sides of his gut and gives it a jiggle. “And it would probably be a lot worse now that I’ve almost packed on 200lbs.”
Jack’s inner-voice screams, “200! 2- fucking Hundred!”
“Besides! I haven’t totally stopped working out!” Chet steps out of the kitchen for more space. He stretches out his wiggles his arms and legs to loosen up. He reaches his arms straight in front of him, and then begins to descend into a squat.
Jack holds his breath as he watches Chet’s body rapidly drop. However, Chet maintains his form and balance. Holding his pose, Chet says, “See? I’ve been keeping up my squat reps.” He stands up easily, and as opposed to simply stopping there, he continues to do squats.
Jack is utterly entranced by the motions of Chet’s body. His gut, tits, ass, and even beard all bounced with a hypnotizing rhythm. Jack starts to feel lightheaded, yet his “other head” is feeling heavier.
Chet finished his reps, and stood up straight with a bit of wobble. “Woof…” He’s sweating like a pig. “Still the champion of squats! Ho ho…” He pauses for a deep breath, “Ho.” He walks back to the counter and grabs a towel to wipe off his brow.
Jack takes this moment to gather his thoughts. “What is wrong with me?” He thinks to himself.
Chet walks over to Jack and gives him a gentle nudge on the arm, “I’m grateful that you are looking out for me Dear.” He gives a great big smile, with a gentle gleam in his eyes. “But I know I’ll be just fine.”
Jack sighs, “Maybe…” He then finally asks an important question, “But what’s with calling me Dear? It’s so… flirty…”
Santa Chet’s rosy cheeks become a whole lot rosier. He scratches the back of his head and makes a nervous cough. “Well… I’m not entirely sure about it myself… I guess… Perhaps the extra age is getting to me? I mean… you really are dear to me…”
Feeling like his face has caught on fire, Jack hides it behind his hands. “Chet. Dude. You can’t…”
“Wait, wait, wait. I didn’t mean it like that,” says Chet. He is frantically waving his arms around.
As he watches his best friend panic, Jack starts to laugh. He laughs and laughs as Chet looks on in distress.
When tears well up in the corner of his eyes Jack takes a second to breath. “Ha. You’re definitely still goofy old Chester.”
Chet crosses his arms and pouts. Jack smirks “I can’t believe I’m going to say this… but this whole time I’ve been super conflicted about this. Cause the whole Santa thing is kind of… hot on you.”
Chet staggers back in surprise, “WHAT!?” He notices Jack wince in discomfort. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude.” He proudly strokes his beard, “Actually, lots of folks would love to have a piece of ol’ Kris Kringle.” A fact he had only learned this morning. “I’m just surprised that you specifically think this is hot.”
Jack groans, “Yeah. Me to buddy.”
“Ho ho hooo!” Chet stretches his arms wide, “Come here big guy!” He approaches Jack for a hug. “Wait, not ye-…” before Jack can finish Chet grabs him tight in in his embrace. “Heh. Why not?” Jack wraps his arms around Chet as well and holds him close.
Chet looks up into Jack’s eyes. “Feeling better, Dear?”
“Y-yeah…” Jack’s gaze lingers on Chet’s lips. “… Can I… kiss you?”
“Please do.”
The two men unite their lips in flaming passion. As they drink deep of each other’s taste, the both eagerly take the opportunity to get handfuls of one another. Chet reaches up and squeezes Jack’s left pec with one hand, and grasps at his firm ass with the other. Jack slides his hands down Chet’s curves along the way to his enormous rear. He clutches and gropes at Chet’s prodigious posterior with fervent desire.
In response, Chet moans and leans his whole weight onto Jack. The two stumble, until Jack’s back lands on the fridge. Chet’s massive, round doughy gut presses into Jack’s trim and tight abs. Jack groans with shock mixed pleasure and begins to grind into Chet’s flab. Chet does his best to return the favor and grind up against Jack. Which further smother’s Jack’s lower waist and groin in all the Santa blubber.
As both men begin to feel themselves reach their boiling points, the obnoxious ring of alarm abruptly ends their carnal reverie. Chet lifts his weight off Jack and loosens his grasp of him, “Oh. The stew is done.”
Feeling a bit boneless, Jack holds onto Chet’s shoulders and tries to steady himself. “Stew? I didn’t even notice…”
“I figured you would be starving after work today, so I cooked some beef stew for us,” says Chet. “One moment, I’ll turn off the alarm.”
Jack sighs and tugs at his collar to cool off. Which causes him to realize, “Shit. I’m still in my work clothes.” He certainly didn’t want to be getting frisky in the polo and khaki pants he saves for work hours. “Can I take a minute to go change?”
“Of course, Dear.”
“Cool.” Jack’s stomach growls. “Oh, um… Can we eat first? I’m actually super hungry.”
Chet smiles from ear to ear, “Sounds good!” His voice drops even lower as he says, “We can save the lovemaking for an after-dinner treat.”
Although he tries to hold it back, a squeak of excitement escapes from Jack. “Sure thing!” he responds half an octave higher.
“Ho ho hooo,” Chet bellows as he begins setting the table. Before leaving for his room, Jack longingly watches Chet and admires his jiggling curves. He turns around with a smile and heads for his room. All the while humming “Santa Baby.”