A Little Extra: Too Fat For Furniture
Rating: Explicit Words: 1419 Pairing: None just Lee Additional Tags: Extreme Weight Gain, Mobility Struggles, Breaking Furniture, Diets (mentioned), but Lee doesn't lose any weight
[on AO3]
After getting shot and nearly bleeding out in a remote forest in the middle of nowhere Lee was less than eager to return to work. In his absence, one of his former deputies had campaigned to be elected Sheriff. Of course, he'd won.
Lee had been bitter the first few weeks, but slowly the blessing in disguise had revealed itself. Suddenly, Lee was to be pitied instead of hated. His poor sister and that terrible incident with the Russel boy.
It was like the whole town had forgotten about any of his unsavoury business from Before. Obviously, Lee took advantage of that.
It started when his neighbour brought over a pie.
"I know you boys don't cook well. I wouldn't want you starving after that tragedy!"
Lee was perfectly capable of feeding himself, but he wasn't about to decline free dessert.
"Aw, thank you, Ms Smith. You didn't have to but… yeah, you know what? I have been having some difficulty readjusting, you know?" Lee tacked on an awkward laugh for full effect, and it worked like a charm.
Ms Smith's expression softened, and she patted him on the shoulder.
"I know it's difficult. You know when my husband died…"
Listening to her blabber about her husband got on Lee's nerves quickly, but she promised to bring by some more food tomorrow.
With that, the flood gates were opened.
The whole town must've heard about what Lee said because they all came flocking to his house carrying platters and platters of food. Even after a month, a few stubborn souls stuck around to make sure he was well-fed. And it sure was showing.
He'd never been skinny or anything, but the bit of pudge around his middle blossomed into a full-on gut. A heavy ball that sat on his thighs and pushed out into his lap more with every day.
Lee made a few half-assed attempts at losing the weight.
No beer before bed or no desserts after dinner, but he rarely stuck with it longer than a week and any weight he did lose came back double or triple the week after that.
'Well-fed' quickly turned into 'fat'. Lee was slowly encroaching on a size that he hadn't ever seen on other people.
On one memorable call, he'd had to help a man weighing double what he did back then out of his tub. The guy had to have been 400lbs, maybe even closer to 450lbs.
Lee had crossed 300lbs after eight months of consistent feeding. After a year he was pushing closer to 350lbs than 300lbs, but he ended the year without crossing that boundary just yet.
Seeing that number on the scale shocked Lee back into dieting for two whole weeks. Food piled up in his fridge and freezer as he valiantly tried to stick to tiny portions. It all culminated in a two-day binge that ended with Lee pinned to his sofa.
He'd never really understood how someone could struggle to get to his feet, but he learned then. No matter how much he tried, his stomach hurt too much. His bloated belly got in the way and his puffy arms couldn't get any leverage on the battered sofa.
Lee had done a number on the sofa. A deep dent into the left side where he usually sat to watch TV (or stuff his face more frequently now). The small dining table had quickly gotten too uncomfortable for his growing gut and eventually, one of the foldable chairs had given out under his heft.
He'd struggled just to get up from the floor again. It was a humbling experience but with food still, on the table, Lee didn't think too much about it and just moved to the living room. Not like he could break his sofa, right?
Wrong.
It did take until Lee reached over 400lbs. His rickety, old sofa just wasn't made for this weight constantly torturing it. Sitting down normally had just gotten too much work and one of the supporting slats broke with a loud crack when Lee let himself fall down.
While it scared the hell out of Lee, he'd reached a sort of breaking point. There wasn't any use in losing weight now, right? And he'd surely plateau at some point. So, he still ate his breakfast.
Food deliveries had petered out a while ago. Once he'd really blown up no one wanted to keep feeding the fat (ex)-Sheriff, but his pension was good enough to keep up with his habit. He didn't need money for much else.
400lbs turned into 450lbs without him really noticing. Lee didn't think it was possible to gain 50lbs without so much as a creeping suspicion but sure enough, his (new) scale wasn't lying. His clothes were getting tighter too, but Lee had had enough foresight to get something with a bit more room.
A lot more room actually because his clothes held up until 500lbs. That's when the weight really hit him. He'd been struggling with lots of little things so far and slowly decreasing stamina, but it was like he'd crossed a magic boundary from being able to still do most things to struggling for breath while he was sitting on his ass (to eat another meal).
Things started getting really scary when Lee felt both sides of his sofa brushing his sides. No matter how he sat his wide hips and thick love handles were always brushing the sofa's arms.
Of course, that didn't slow a proper glutton down.
If anything, Lee increased his food intake. Some subconscious realisations that he was cutting his life short with every additional pound he gained, every hour he spent on his ass instead of exercising and every single, greasy bite he shoved past his lips. So, of course, he needed to make the best of the time he had left.
Lee committed to his lifestyle of hedonism, not just food-wise, but also by overindulging in his drinking, spending his pension instead of saving anything and getting even lazier. Most of his days were spent inside, but occasionally, he longed for a change of scenery and undertook the laborious trek outside.
Walking had become increasingly difficult, and his gait had turned into a shuffling waddle. The heavy bag on his shoulder didn't make it easier, but he couldn't imagine sitting outside without something to snack on and a few drinks.
Just lifting his feet exhausted him and his joints screamed at him with every lumbering step. But he made it out to the porch. It was a cool evening and Lee sighed when the breeze cooled his overheated skin.
However, that moment of relief wasn't enough to cut through the pain of walking and standing. He spotted the porch swing not too far away. He hadn't been out here in a few months, so it looked a bit run down, but the wood looked sturdy enough. Surely, it could hold him. He dropped the bag full of food right in front of the swing.
Then, Lee tried to sit down as gently as possible but at his size that wasn't really an option. He crashed down onto the wooden bench and while it groaned underneath his weight, it held.
For a moment.
Just as Lee started to trust the construction of the porch swing and started to relax one of the chains to his right creaked with an ominous tone. A second later it snapped, and Lee was dumped to the ground.
The porch shook under the impact. Lee's first instinct was to get back to his feet, but the walk outside had exhausted him so much, that he took the opportunity to finally catch his breath.
Dread set in at the realization of how fat he'd let himself get. Every meal flashed before him, but before he could dwell on it the urgent need to breathe took over his mind again. Wheezing gulps of breath that still didn't seem to fill his lungs. His chest was too heavy for them to fully expand.
It took some time before he could concentrate on anything but breathing. Lee was still wheezing a bit now, but to his delight, he spotted the bag he'd nearly crushed. It was squished against his leg and Lee actually struggled a bit to reach around to grab a package of sugar cookies.
Once he crammed his mouth full of cookies all those negative thoughts vanished, and Lee fell back into the mindless consumption that had gotten him into this situation.
