Dean stared at the slave, his instincts overrun with the urge to consume. There was a painful hunger beating at his insides with each pulse of his racing heart. Saliva pooled in his mouth, his teeth aching to bite. It was more exciting if his prey were alive: tendons snapping with movement, blood coursing through his veins, panic making his tender flesh taste all the sweeter. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and it wasn't like Dean could leave the body down there to rot. That went against any logical thought process, any base instinct. To leave rotting meat in his burrow? That was a recipe for illness. To his left, Sam was staring at him. His arms were crossed over his chest, his face pale and nauseous.

"You don't have to watch," Dean said, caressing the meat's rapidly chilling belly and thighs.

"No," Sam shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I want to watch."

Dean huffed. "This isn't some masochistic crap, is it?"

Sam didn't say a word. Instead, he leaned against the cage's rusted metal bars.

"You're not trying to make me an even bigger monster in your head?"

"You are a monster."

Dean hummed, nodding. "Never said I wasn't."

Sam's eyes flickered to the corpse. "Do it."

Dean sighed, "Fine. Just don't puke on me."

Sam clenched his jaw, the muscle popping in his cheek. Dean rolled his eyes and eased down. Dean wrenched down his jaw, broadening his mouth. He gripped the slave's feet, easing his flesh passed his lips. His throat expanded and he gulped, moaning in ecstasy. He sucked his legs, dragging the bloody limbs down. Soon, Dean was up to the waist. He gulped hastily, heaving his prey down his throat until only his cold, bloody fingers were left. Dean slurped his fingers in. With one massive gulp, his prey was wedged down to his stomach. Dean panted, gripping the plump ball that was once smooth abs. He felt blood smeared on his face. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. He rubbed his tight, bloated gut, overwhelmed with the heaviness of his latest victim. Although the slave hadn't been as plump as the security guard, he was tall and broad, and Dean felt unbearably bloated.

Dean glanced up, smirking. Sam, pale and shaky, stared at the enormous ball of his stomach. Dean patted his belly and stifled a burp into his closed fist. Sam didn't say anything. He seemed frozen in horror. He asked for this, Dean reminded himself. Dean picked his teeth with his claws.

"Is this what you wanted to see?" Dean purred.

Sam didn't respond.

"Seeing me feed? Yeah, it's not pretty, is it?"

Just then, Dean groaned, his eyes slamming shut. His prey was dragged between his human stomach and down to his snake belly. Dean felt the shift, the uncurling of the corpse, the slow strain inside him. He grimaced, uncomfortable. Gradually, the pain melted away, leaving only satisfaction behind. Dean peered down his snake length, noticing the large knot in the middle of his tail. He sighed, rising from the floor.

"Fuck. I feel like I could pop." Dean licked the trace of blood from his plump bottom lip.

Sam sprung away from the cage and bolted towards the exit. Viper quick, Dean seized Sam by the waist and heaved him off the ground. Sam's weight was a mild inconvenience.

"Let go!" Sam shouted, squirming and kicking. Dean tightened his grip and rose higher on his serpentine bottom, his exotic red and orange pattern gleaming iridescent in the soft candlelight, a splash of a California sunset.

"Gotcha," Dean chuckled, slithering to the bed. Sam clawed at Dean's arms, leaving shallow scratches behind.

"No!" Sam shouted. "Put me down!"

"Now, now, now, Sammy." Dean purred. "Did you really think I wouldn't catch you?"

Sam grunted, punching Dean's arms, leaving deep red marks that healed seconds after. Dean winced but did not let go. In fact, Sam's resistance was making Dean excited, especially when Sam's delicious aroma was made amplified by the sweat pooling down his temple. Sam's body heat was like a physical creature pressed against Dean. Sam's heartbeat, a sensual finger coiling forward, aching for closeness.

"What was your idea? Did you want me fat and slow after a big meal?"

Dean gently placed Sam on the bed. Although his body yearned for contact, Dean severed the connection, drawing back. The second he let go, Sam crawled up the mattress and pressed against the headboard, glaring.

"Well, there ain't much that can slow me down. Sorry, dude."

Dean crept onto the bed, plunged onto his stomach, and folded his elbows. He rested his chin in his hand. He nonchalantly picked at the comforter, claws tearing small fissures into the material. Behind him, his Naga half stretched across the room. He flickered the tip of his tail up and down. His snake stomach gurgled in digestion.

"Get away from me." Sam said through clenched teeth.

Dean huffed. "I'm not doing anything."

"Stop staring at me."

"Me? Staring? No way. I'm just admiring you."

Sam pulled his knees up to his chest. The movement was both child-like and strangely adult. It was as if Sam was yanking up a barrier between the two of them. Sam wrapped his arms around his legs. "Stop it, Dean."

"Watch your tone," Dean sighed.

"Or what?" Sam retorted.

"You don't want me to come up there and spank you?" Dean teased. "Now, would you?"

"You wouldn't dare," Sam scowled.

"Really? Because if you keep acting naughty, you'll leave me no choice." Dean purred, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam's scowl deepened. "I have to piss."

"Really?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, follow me." Dean pushed off the bed.

"I can go by myself."

Dean snorted. "You just tried to run, Sam. How stupid do you think I am? Come on, let's go."

Dean slithered off the bed. Dean felt sluggish and slow, heavy from his meal. He hadn't eaten so much since becoming a Naga and the effect was startling. He couldn't let Sam see his lethargic state, however, so Dean moved with confidence, leading his brother out of the room and into the long, damp tunnel.

They stopped. Dean peered down at his sibling. Sam walked over to the wall, unzipped his fly, and whipped out his dick.

Silence.

"Are you going to watch me take a shit, too?" Sam said over his shoulder.

Dean laughed humorlessly, "You ain't got anything I haven't seen before. You know when you were a toddler, Dad made me change your diapers?"

Sam wrinkled his nose. He didn't want to think about that. About a time when they were just a couple of kids, just brothers, instead of the snarled, debauched affiliation that now lay between them. Sam knew Dad would be turning in his grave if he knew what his sons had gotten up to.

"Don't look, okay? I can't piss if I can feel you staring."

"Fine," Dean sighed and turned away.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Dean said dryly.

Seconds later, Dean heard the steady stream of piss. Once finished, Sam shoved his cock back inside his pants and turned around. Dean stirred towards the entrance; his stare trailed on his brother. Once inside the room, Dean corralled Sam back onto the bed. Sam crawled to the headboard, staring at Dean with a look of distrust.

Dean yawned, exhaustion beating hard at his temples. He had everything he wanted: Sam in his bed, the slaves out fetching supplies, and a big meal gurgling away in his belly. He could just drift off, it would be so easy.

"You tired?" Sam asked.

"Don't get any ideas," Dean murmured.

"I'm not. You just look like you're about to pass out."

At that, Dean crawled up the bed. Sam tensed, helpless to avoid his approach. Dean grabbed his waist and pulled him down. He wrapped his arms around his torso. It didn't take a rocket scientist for Sam to realize Dean was cuddling him. Dean's body, which had been practically screaming for him to press against Sam, went slack against the youngest Winchester.

"Let's take a nap," Dean whispered, pressing a kiss underneath Sam's ear. Sam shivered at the touch. Dean smirked against his flesh. "Go to sleep, baby."

"Don't call me 'baby,'" Sam snapped. "I'm not your 'baby."

"Okay," Dean smiled drowsily, "baby."

Sam sighed, exasperated.

Dean closed his eyes, falling into that delicious dark. When he woke sometime later, Sam was trying to break out of his grasp. He tensed, holding him down.

"Dean, let go. They're back." Sam said.

Who are they? Dean thought, eyes fluttering open. He followed Sam's line of sight.

The three slaves stood at the end of the bed, carrying several plastic bags.