Crossposting from Ao3. Adult SSHG. Fat kink / weight gain elements. Glorification of gluttony. Adult themes including suicidal ideation (no attempts), alcoholism, and super-size Fat with a capital F characters. Striving to be more realistic and nuanced than other fics of its ilk, but still intended to be a Kink Fic. You have been warned. Not intended for readers under age 18.

~uncomfortable~

Severus awoke the next morning and thought long and hard about what occurred with Ms. Granger. Despite everything, he didn't have a solution to the problem that satisfied him, mostly because he was quite convinced that whatever the reason for Granger's interest, the solution was not that she actually liked him. He really could not get his head wrapped around the idea that anyone would actually like extremely fat men like himself, as simple an idea as it was.

But he tolerated her nonetheless, pretending to take her attestations at face value.

The first week of term was like any other, except that Granger sometimes spent time with him in his rooms. It was oddly nice to have some company, though it did cramp his style somewhat. In front of her, he didn't feel entirely comfortable eating plate after plate of tea-cakes or sandwiches. So as a result, there was some grumpiness attendant with Granger's presence.

The first Friday of term, Granger showed up at his door with an enormous bottle of firewhiskey. Without asking to enter, she barged in and threw herself on the divan with a sigh of relief.

Severus was rather miffed, because she was later than she usually was. In fact, once she wasn't there right at five after her last class, he (erroneously) suspected she had gone out, or gone to her rooms and passed out, or something. So, as a result, he'd ordered a massive quantity of food to binge upon from the House-Elves.

He desperately didn't want her to see him at his level worst, stuffing himself to the point of tears.

"Welcome, please come in and take over my home," he snarked with somewhat more vitriol than usual.

"Sure," Hermione replied, unphased. She was barefoot now, and she'd thrown her heels under the coffee table. She uncorked the bottle with a practiced spell - wandless, he noticed - and unceremoniously took an enormous, painful drag. "Oof. What a week. I'm right knackered."

"It only gets worse from here," Severus responded in a terse manner, seating himself in his comfortable chair and trying to not think about the enormous dinner en route to his rooms.

But then again, he saw her take another long drag from the firewhiskey bottle, and he was fairly sure she wasn't sharing. Perhaps they could be miserable together in a fierce, unrepentant detente.

His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten much this day, being too busy with his classes and also mentally planning on this binge-fest tonight. Hermione chuckled and smiled, looking positively beatific and eager.

"Have you had supper yet?" she asked, eyes wide and alight with curiosity. "It sounds like not."

"Hmph." Severus tried to avoid turning pink at her scrutiny. "It will be here presently."

"That's good." She looked at the bottle in her hand, and sighed. While she seemed to want to say something, it also seemed like she didn't know what to say. As if she were contemplating some kind of excuse for her drinking behavior, but realizing there was nothing to say other than the obvious.

Severus pinned his eyes to her, waiting with bated breath. Finally she uttered, looking around, "Would you like to watch cartoons with me?"

He raised both eyebrows to express his surprise and mild confusion.

"The electronics wards..." he began, but Hermione laughed.

"I solved that in three hours my first night here," she said, and grinned. She had dimples nestled in her cheeks that were so, * so * inviting, and he felt a sudden tenseness grow in his loins.

Dimples. That was a new one for him. He didn't usually notice dimples.

Before he could get his head out of his fog of admiration to ask further questions, she grabbed her satchel and withdrew a pounded-up laptop covered in stickers and crumbs.

"I watch dumb shit but I won't apologize for my bad taste. It's mindless and it helps me relax."

"Fine." Severus waved a hand at the cleared coffee table. "Put it there."

He didn't comment, 'wouldn't you prefer to perform this ritual in the privacy of your own home,' because honestly, it was obvious that she wanted the company. And, to be fair, he did not awfully mind her company either, even if it somewhat cramped his style.

So, in an accepting manner, he relocated himself to the sofa. Hermione made a point of readjusting the pillows so that there was something in the small of his back, which was uncommonly sweet for a girl who acted like an American gunslinger in terms of her boldness. She also drew the coffee table closer.

It was at this precise moment - with either impeccable timing or awful timing - Kooky, one of the less judgmental house elves in the castle, arrived with a cart filled with food. She carefully arranged it right to the side of Severus, where he needed only to extend a hand to grab the next item.

"How did you know I was coming?" Hermione asked with a laugh, staring at the enormous assortment.

The uncomfortable silence between the three of them was painful. But Hermione, bless her, just said, "Oh," and went back to clicking on the computer.

"Whatever you like, Miss, I'm happy to get you," Kooky offered, beaming and curtseying.

"I... just a ham sandwich, if you please," she said, trying not to meet Severus' eyes.

Once Kooky left the area, Hermione turned a concerned eye on her friend.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"Oh. Erm. Yes." Severus' stomach felt dreadfully empty, so he went ahead and took a full bowl of mashed potatoes with a spoon. Feeling self-conscious, he added, "Would you like some?"

"Sure." Hermione closed her eyes and opened her mouth, and he realized he was expected to feed her. So, he did so, plopping a large spoonful of mash in her mouth. A curl of it landed on the corner of her lips, but otherwise it all met its mark.

Reveling in the decadence, she smiled and almost seemed to purr.

"That's right," she said after swallowing, and she opened her eyes. "I could eat that whole bowl in one go. It's very good."

"I will ," Severus said, with a subtly dangerous tone, "And more besides."

"Of course, dearheart." The affection in her voice was palpable, and she winked at him. "But you'd best get started. Wouldn't want my man to waste away to nothing."

He grunted - there was no danger to that ever happening, as far as he was concerned - but he hesitantly scooped himself some more and brought it to his lips.

He didn't notice that he closed his eyes when he tasted the mild, buttery potatoes crossing his tongue. But when he opened them again to get himself another bite, Hermione was smiling and holding her bottle up in a toast.

"To vices," she breathed, and she swigged deeply.

"And the people we share them with," Severus groused, though the only reason for his grumpiness was the fact that this first bite had activated sharp intense hunger pangs, and he needed to get this whole bowl of mash down his gullet immediately .

She began to laugh mid-draft, and alcohol spurted out her mouth and nose.

"Shit," she exclaimed, "shit. That hurts." She ran to the bathroom, clutching her nose in particular.

He chuckled at the sight, though not enough for him to pause in his task of putting food in his face. That was his primary priority for the moment.

...

She returned a bit later, looking more tired and like she'd washed up her makeup. He hadn't seen her without gunk on her face before, he realized now, at least not as an adult. She had seemed suspiciously fresh-faced, but now she had dark lines - frown lines, brow furrow lines, dark under eye circles, and even dark lines on either side of her nose.

She definitely looked older than he remembered. And it was simultaneously gratifying and depressing.

"I'm fine," she said with a high voice and a laugh. "Not dead yet."

"Keep drinking like that and you'll end up there sooner or later," Severus joked. He'd finished up the potatoes and had begun to embark on the large stack of steaks. As he took a rather large bite of meat, he brushed his outer lip with a droplet of juice.

Hermione chuckled, noticing the way the oil ran down his chin, and she leaned in to lick it away. After the tender ministration was accomplished (Severus feeling self-conscious as hell), she pressed a kiss into his chubby cheek. "Keep eating like that, and so will you ."

Her touch felt electric tonight, and she grinned at how flustered he seemed to feel. "Though hopefully you'll make a detour to land in my bed, first," she added with a smirk.

The pain of a rising erection made him quiet, and he wondered how long he could hold himself off from having her stuff his cock up various holes.

"Just... just eat something," he begged, shoving a platter of pasta and sauce into Hermione's hands.

She accepted the request, and she took a fork and twirled it cautiously. The young woman looked back up at him and seemed simultaneously cautious but also keen on seeing his reaction.

She took a single bite and chewed, then swallowed. But there was something in her eyes that told him, something new was coming.

Hermione leaned over and opened up the computer, which was already queued up to what we Muggles would think of as a sketchy website even by 2008 standards. But Severus didn't know anything about the internet, having been successfully isolated from the greater world outside Hogwarts for the best part of his life.

"I think you'll like this, if you're open to it," she said, and smiled apologetically. "If not, well, hopefully it's mindless enough you won't be bothered by it."

"Hmph." Severus hadn't watched any form of television in years . It was something that he'd done of a Saturday morning with Lily Evans, and thus had a strong association for him.

But there were several key differences in this viewing, he noticed: he was grown up in more ways than one, and Hermione Granger was already an accomplished witch who did not need his assistance in navigating the complicated norms and mores of the wizarding world. Also unlike his relationship with Lily, he really had nowhere to go in Hermione's estimation but up, because she'd already seen him at his worst. He didn't have the pressure of needing to impress her eclipsing his ability to be honest and open.

Also, Lily had this bright-eyed bushy-tailed demeanor. Granger, despite her youth relative to his age, was tired and spent and in a completely different frame of mind.

(Notably, as well, Granger was far more sexually expressive than the hear-no-evil Lily. And in this way, Severus was more captivated by the young professor than he'd ever been by his childhood friend.)

So reflecting, Severus tried to regulate his breath and simultaneously inhale his meal. The flavors of pepper and Worcestershire, ever so slightly tart and warm, inspired a dark and painful amount of arousal on his tongue - and also below his belt.

This was abruptly discontinued by the sight of her first cartoon - a trio of anthropomorphic fast food items in a suburban setting. The story made barely any sense to Severus as he watched, and he frowned and "hmph"ed and winced at the crass language and unsubtle characters.

"I take it you're not a fan," Hermione said as the first show came to an end. "I should have guessed."

"I do think it's… terrible," he admitted, and he extended a hand for the tray of pasta that lay on the coffee table out of his reach. Hermione obtained it for him without comment. "Also, I want to know what they do next."

" Perfect ," Hermione chittered, and she settled back and poured herself her next glass.

She was drinking like a man who'd been wandering the desert for days, and it was somewhat terrifying to see. At the same time, as Severus methodically destroyed one plate, then another, he recognized he also was a sight to see. His face was a perfectly-calibrated machine of consumption, where he'd accept large, wolfish bites that then were passed to the back of his mouth to further masticate while his front tongue and teeth were engaged in getting his next victual into his mouth.

Indeed, Hermione knew that Severus was likely going to finish almost all of what was brought to him from the kitchens, and Hermione did not seem to have any significant problem with that. It was simultaneously refreshing and unnerving, to know that she was going to keep quiet on the topic… aside from her unexpectedly erotic teasing.

After another episode, Hermione shrugged her way onto another website. Severus was done with his meat and potatoes, and his pasta, and now he was rather groggily digging into his mincemeat pie. His fork was slower than it had been, but still making rounds between vanilla custard and fruit tart as well. When it came to sweet things, he liked to distribute the flavors evenly across his dining experience, which was different than the utilitarian approach he had towards his mains and sides.

Hermione was eating her ham sandwich, and simultaneously nibbling at his custard with a spare spoon. There really was plenty, but it piqued his hunger to see food disappearing off his plate when it hadn't been admitted into his digestive system.

"Stop," he muttered lowly after one too many times, and Hermione put down the spoon. She smelled so sweet and lovely, and the way her face had aged made her look so tired and wise.

Then before he could say anything else, her face was pressed against his own, her tongue curling inside his mouth with cool, fresh custard flavor. He felt her transfer the creamy goodness to his own tongue, and he accepted it like a greedy piglet suckling at its mother's teat. He accepted that assertive mouth of hers, and blithely complied with every needy flick and twist. She felt so hungry for him, and he almost could believe that she genuinely fancied him.

"I assumed you wanted it back," she chirped once she pulled away, flushing and starry-eyed.

The taste of her combined with the custard made for a very uncomfortable situation in Severus' trousers at the moment, and those words were the cherry on top of the erotic sundae. The warmth at his groin alerted him to the painful reality of his overactive imagination, and with a sense of discomfort, he staggered to standing.

"Thank you for that," he said carefully, and offered, "I'll just be a moment."

He heard her say, "Of course, dearheart," again, and it made him tingle up and down his spine. Hurrying for dear life, Severus thrust himself into the loo and settled heavily on that velvet vanity stool. Sucking in his gut to better get at his crotch, he undid his fly and withdrew his aching member. With a practiced gesture, he grasped himself, but he could not close his eyes and allow release.

Strangely, it felt like more than just taboo to have a casual wank in the loo. It practically felt like a betrayal , and realizing this made him profoundly uncomfortable.

He sat there, staring at himself in the mirror, the sadness clouding his eyes second by second.

What was this girl doing to him? He hadn't been this unrepentantly horny since he was a teenager, a feature of his highly volatile mood swings. It was damn uncomfortable and he hated it. And moreover, she was already attaching herself to him like a barnacle to a boulder. It was infuriating how casual she was about the whole thing - like she just got in bed with whatever pathetic fool came into her orbit. And yet this casualness was also part of her allure…

Severus sighed, glaring at his bleak reflection. He filled up the mirror so completely. It was disgusting - he took up so much fucking space . How could he even get inside her if they did manage to wind up in bed together? Would he even be able to get… what was the phrase… 'balls deep' in her? He was so round and there was so much of him in the fore. He couldn't imagine any situation where she wouldn't be repulsed at the sight of him disrobed.

She simply had to go. This would never work.

So thinking, he put his cock back where he kept it, and he wandered out of the loo with a face that stung with emotions he couldn't identify.

Imagine his shock when he found her in nothing more than a negligee, sprawled across his couch like a spider woman.

"Mm, come here, love," she slurred, budging her legs over and curling them beneath her. "You look so sad. What's got you down, hm?"

He thought about responding, but his stomach answered for him of its own accord. The belch rose from deep in his gut and rumbled out of his mouth. He had just enough warning to capture it in his sleeve.

Maybe he was wrong about the mood swings - he felt depressed enough that he wanted to break down in tears right then and there.

"It's nothing," he lied, sitting down next to her despite all his misgivings. "Just a bit of indigestion."

"Oh, you poor darling," Hermione drawled, and she swigged from her half-empty bottle. "You'd better have some more custard."

He opened his mouth to protest, but in a flash Hermione was spoon-feeding him with such zeal and tenderness that he couldn't help but accept the sweet dollops of kindness.

"Taste it," she implored, and his cock tightened again in a surge of energy. "I'm sure it's delectable . And so easy on the stomach, too."

"Mmmph," he responded emphatically, his eyes drifting closed despite his better judgment. He knew he shouldn't be allowing this kind of intimacy… it wasn't what a man did with a woman who he intended to send away. But with every bite, he felt himself lose bit by bit of resolve that he'd had regarding his plans to send her packing.

He wasn't going to be able to deal with this as easily as he'd hoped. Maybe he would just have to accept the terror of uncertainty. Maybe he'd have to learn to live with this woman for as long as she wanted to swirl around him, an unstoppable vortex of confusing erotic energies.

With this spirit, he took several deep inhales of custard, then opened his eyes to shyly smile at her.

"It's better now," he admitted, looking into her bright and shining hazel eyes. "It's better than I ever remember."

"That's the spirit!" chortled Hermione, laughing and giddy. She was all smiles at this point, and clearly she was enjoying herself a great deal. "Finally, fucking finally , Snape, you get it. You do!" With that, she pressed a drunken, passionate kiss on his lips.

He felt his heart melting as certainly as custard on hot summer concrete. Whatever was happening, he was doomed to fall in line with whatever she desired of him.