Jack and Jokull have spent a month in space, lounging around and competing to see which of them can make the most "use" of the unlimited food onboard, but as their vacation comes to and end, they might have to make some preparations for landing - and some of which, they weren't quite expecting.


Commission for  doodlegabble featuring their character Jack, and including  Lonewolf13727 's character Jokull

Part One

---

The whirring noise of the teleporter drew Jack’s attention. It was about time; he’d been waiting all day for their latest order. Over the past month, the red, furred dragon and his friend had special-ordered clothing sent several times. Normally, he wouldn’t want to waste any time on his vacation just updating his wardrobe, but at this point it didn’t seem either of them had a choice.

Jack huffed as he rocked forward on the couch, excited to check on the contents of the package. The huge ball of lard on his lap practically pinned him in place, sitting heavily on his thighs and drooping past them from every angle. The layers of rolls and folds on his sides bunched up when he leaned forward, the love handles growing steadily larger until they merged with the massive globes of fat that made up his rear, stretching the seams of his current sweatpants dangerously tight. It was part of the reason for the new clothes.

The other obvious reason was his gut, which sagged as he finally got to his feet. Standing up in and of itself was an ordeal that required a great deal of shoving against the side of the couch for leverage, his muscles bulging within the sausage-shaped tubes of fat he called arms. They certainly didn’t look much like arms anymore these days, as they continued ballooning with the amount of calories stuffed into his maw around the clock.

The obese dragon ran a paw through his hair as he stopped to catch his breath, his belly bouncing. He put his paws on it, rubbing them into the softness for a moment, admiring his hard work. Neither arm could hope to reach even halfway around it anymore, but sinking his pudgy fingers into the layers upon layers of plush flab was satisfying as he felt it wobble and jiggle at the touch.

Slowly, he began his way forward, determined to get into the next room and change out of his unbearably tight clothes into something more comfortable. His gut was incredibly bloated from his most recent binge, the shirt stretched as if it might burst apart at any moment. Despite the constant pull of the fabric, it didn’t keep his belly from bouncing and quivering with the motion of each waddling step. His dimpled thighs struggled to squeeze by each other, straining to lift his feet off the ground as the tree-trunks of blubber pushed against the underside of his belly.

“Hurry up, tubby!” he heard a voice tease from behind him.

Jack snorted, the thick rolls of fat on his neck bunching as he turned his head. “You could just grab your own package!” he huffed, but he was already planning to grab the whole order anyway. Why should they both end up wasting the calories?

Truthfully, despite being shorter, Jokull was actually holding his own in their calorific competition. The purple dragon’s scaly hide had softened considerably over the course of the month, rolls of pudge spilling around his body from every direction. He grinned at his red-furred friend. “You could use the exercise.”

Jack rolled his eyes, turning back to the task at paw and taking several more slow steps forward. The main living area was getting harder to traverse these days; they could only push the furniture apart so far, and they still tended to get their heaving bodies caught between the scattered furniture from time to time. “I’ll take that as acknowledgment that I’m the larger one of us,” he scoffed. They both knew it was true anyway.

Reaching the doorway, Jack saw the teleporter lit up on the table across the room, his waddle quickening somewhat with excitement. As he took several steps through the doorway, though, he encountered a problem.

The bloating from his latest binge was pushing his belly wider than the last time he’d entered this room, and he didn’t expect how tightly the doorframe squeezed his sides. His gut entered long before he did, as usual, but as he continued to step forward, the edges dug into his bouncing rolls and ground him to a halt. The flab pancaked against the walls on the outside of the room. He twisted and turned a bit, grunting as he leaned forward to reach toward the teleporter, but just couldn’t pull the rest of himself inside.

“Need some help?”

Jack heard the amused voice from behind him. “No!” He spent another moment wriggling, his chubby backside wobbling against the sturdy doorframe, before letting out a sigh. “…Maybe…”

He heard a lot of grunting, heaving, and shuffling for a minute as Jokull got his own fat ass off the couch to come help. The much shorter dragon stopped behind him. “Suck in for a moment, I’ll push!”

Jack had barely drawn in the breath before he felt something incredibly heavy crash into his backside. With a yelp, he stumbled forward, just barely catching himself against the table with his bulging gut doing most of the work. Fortunately, all the padding prevented him from hitting it too hard. “More warning next time!”

Jokull laughed. “You mean because if the table weren’t there, you would have kept going like a bowling ball?”

Jack focused on pulling the special order of clothing from the machine. Everything looked perfect. The two dragons had custom-sized their clothing to be sure it would be a loose, comfy fit.

“Oh, I like it.” Jokull sounded impressed as he looked over his own outfit. “I can’t wait to change out of these straining rags into something nice for our landing!”

“Yeah.” Jack was equally excited to change into his own. He wondered if maybe he should have one last snack before changing, though, so he wouldn’t be in danger of spilling anything on them. He wanted to look nice for their landing; the two rather famous dragons were expecting a huge welcoming, maybe even some reporters on the scene. Jack wanted to look his best. Might as well wear his old ones during lunch. Well, what was more like their forth lunch, he supposed. With their around the clock snacking, it was hard to tell meals apart anymore.

He carefully started to fold the clothes back up, his rounded arms straining to reach past the pillowy pile of gut spilling out from underneath his current shirt. “I think I’ll change after we eat.”

“Oh, good idea.” Jokull made no move to fold up his own clothes, though, perhaps feeling that all of the grunting and straining wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, he lay them back on the table as carefully as possible so they wouldn’t wrinkle. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me.”

It wasn’t until after Jokull had successfully waddled out the door that Jack realized he might not have quite as much luck. “Wait for me!” he called, although he knew it would be hard to grab Jokull’s attention when he was focused on lunch. Never mind the extra exercise of walking back over.

When Jack got to the doorway, he had to begin the process of squeezing out all over again, his soft flab immediately filling the doorframe. He tried turning to the side, but was wide enough all around that it didn’t make very much of a difference. Even sucking in didn’t do much compared to the absolutely massive amount of adipose caked onto every inch of his body. His hanging gut immediately squished up against the doorframe, the other side of the doorframe digging into his back rolls. The cushy lard hanging from his arms and shoulders wobbled in response, but his belly was quickly wedged tight. “Jokull!”

The purple dragon had already disappeared into the room with the food replicator, no doubt already putting it to some hard work. If it was a lot of food, it could take a while. Which it inevitably would be, knowing Jokull. Dammit.

Jack strained against the confines of the doorway, one of his flabby arms braced on the wall as he tried to pull himself back into the main room. His gut squished tighter against the doorframe, his chubby legs pressed wide apart to make room for it to hang as it bounced with the motion of wriggling back and forth. He sucked in harder and squeeeezed another inch or two, but finally had to rest for a moment. It was probably more exercise than he’d gotten in a while.

When Jokull came back into the room, he was greeted by quite a sight. “Oh man, I forgot about the doorway,” he chuckled.

Despite his predicament, Jack eyed the massive trays he was carrying hungrily. At this point, Jokull’s rounded gut was large enough to practically use as a shelf, helping him carry several extras. “Make sure you save some of that for me,” Jack grinned wryly.

Jokull rolled his eyes as he set down the trays, his gut resting heavily on the coffee table as he bent over to do so. “Just give me a second.” When he leaned back to stand up, he was practically upright before his gut lifted off the table, continuing to hang low even while standing. “I’ll come help. Don’t go anywhere.”

It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes.

When Jokull ponderously made his way back to his stuck friend, he grabbed an arm and began to pull. Jack sucked in, using his other arm to try shoving his belly through from the other side. It took a bit of squishing and kneading, but he felt himself begin moving again.

Jokull, despite being much shorter, finally gave a huge pull by throwing all of his weight back. The full load of his weight was quite a force, and Jack’s entire body rippled as it was pulled free. Jokull poked the wobbling gut. “Sure you need another lunch, fatty?”

“You’re just jealous,” Jack retorted, following his friend to the largest couches in the room at the quickest waddle he could muster. He let out a relieved sigh as he sat down on a couch adjacent to Jokull, thankfully well within reach of the coffee table. They’d taken to sitting on separate couches as their bodies had each grown to fill a whole one by themselves. The height of the coffee table was the only thing lacking, making them bend far over the layers of pudge encircling their middles to reach the food on top, but at least it was large enough to support the copious amount of food.

What Jokull had ordered was probably the extent of what the food replicator could handle, overfilling the coffee table with plates and trays. He’d already grabbed a few towering burgers and squeezed them down enough with his paws to stretch his chubby maw around. Jack began to take some pizza for himself, only a few slices for now, although he was confident he’d finish the rest on his own shortly.

With every update to their food replicator, the food became larger, fattier, and more calorie-dense than before. Even the single slice of pizza he was quickly sliding between his own jaws was probably the size of what an entire normal pizza might be, if only he could remember what ‘normal’ food looked like by this point. As it was, his stomach stretched easily with each bite, more than used to this routine by now. When he’d devoured his first slice of pizza, the next was already in his paws, the cheese dripping onto his fingers as his teeth sank through the greasy toppings. Of course, the food wasn’t the only thing becoming larger, fattier, and more calorie-dense.

By the time he’d finished the whole pizza, Jokull had already grabbed a few more plates, but Jack was determined not to be beaten this round. He pulled a few plates closer for himself, greedily packing away some garlic bread and mozzarella sticks to go with all the pizza he’d eaten. The dense dough filled his expanding stomach, the pressure rounding it out as it weighed down on his lap. He leaned back with some more plates, using his own gut as a shelf to help hold them, eagerly stuffing himself with the contents of each. He started using one of his paws to knead the pressure beneath his layers of lard while still cramming food down with the other, an efficient system to both make room, and refill it immediately.

Most of the plates he took were stacked high with carbs, but he soon moved onto even fattier deserts, including towering cakes and piles of sugary cookies he just couldn’t get enough of no matter how many he ate. Crumbs trickled down his chin as he licked frosting off his paws, forsaking the use of a fork to shovel it in all the faster. Outside of the food-haze he could see Jokull quickening the pace, his own belly swelling, his clothing being pulled visibly taut.

Watching his competition actually made Jack more aware of his own clothes growing increasingly tight across his wide frame. He leaned back, letting his gut bulge out farther as he shoved entire desserts in his mouth, barely giving himself time to chew, knowing that this outfit had already grown too small for him a while ago. With the promise of new clothes just one room over, he suddenly realized he wouldn’t need these distressed garments anymore anyway, and proudly let his midsection expand until the inevitable happened.

Riiiiiiiip.

Jack’s sides wobbled as the back of his sweat pants gave up, folding down as more pudge spilled through them, tearing them even wider. With the surge of chub, the pressure was put on the rest of the seams, which couldn’t take the extra strain. Jack only wished he could watch the stitching literally split apart around him as his body swelled to rip the gaps wide open, but he’d lost the ability to see anything below the shelf of a gut that circled around his front a while ago.

On the other hand, Jokull had practically a front-row seat. He didn’t ease up his binging for even a second to make a comment, but did pull away one of his paws long enough to give Jack a thumbs-up.
Jack only grinned a bit in response as he took another huge bite of something that used to be a chewy pastry, although it was hard to tell with how quickly it disappeared into his jaws. He saw Jokull beginning to slow down, straining for breath beneath the weight of his gluttony, but Jack forced himself to keep going, stuffing himself as the shirt that had barely covered his moobs at this point also began to split apart, his doughy chest soon too heavy with dense, soft flab for the fabric to hold. He decided to polish off the meal with a two liter bottle of soda to wash it all down.

“You’re like a living food compactor,” Jokull panted, his tone filled with admiration.

Jack was too stuffed to reply, merely leaning back with his slick paws on his belly. The shreds of his shirt clung tightly around his biceps and neckline, but the remains of his pants had all but disappeared into his folds. He didn’t think it mattered very much; his large, soft body was so incredibly swaddled in fat that just his own gut was keeping him decent.

Jokull looked much the same, although since he wasn’t quite as stuffed as Jack, he was the one to get up first. “I’d better bring us those new clothes.”

Jack chuckled, secretly grateful. He wasn’t sure he could move right now even if he wanted to. He waited patiently as he watched Jokull waddle to the doorway, noticing at the last moment that since Jokull was now even bigger than before, he looked like he might be the one slightly too broad for the doorway this time. “Hey Jokull, look out—”

Before the words were quite out of his mouth, Jokull’s huge body was brought to a sudden, quivering halt. “Oh come on…”

“Now who needs to skip a lunch?” Jack snorted as he watched Jokull slowly worm his way through. His fat, heavy tail wriggled slightly as he twisted and turned to pull his rotund body into the room, his bloated sides gripping the doorway tight. Fortunately, he still wasn’t as fat as Jack and was able to squeeze through after a bit of grunting and heaving. It still took him another minute or two to get his bulk across the room, grab the clothes, and make his way back to the doorway.

“Need any help?” Jack called over.

“I can do it,” Jokull huffed, holding the clothes out in front of him. He slowly squeezed himself through the doorway, immediately filling it again with his bulk. From the front angle, Jack could see the way that it pushed his gut out farther in front of him, the sagging rolls having nowhere else to go. They pressed down on Jokull’s thick, trunk-like thighs, jiggling whenever he tried lifting them. He leaned forward and gave his rump a wiggle, gradually pulling more of the fat through the opening, until he finally squeezed free.

Panting as he waddled carefully across the room, he finally handed off Jack’s clothes. “I’ll be back out in a sec. At least the new clothes we ordered are going to be nice and loose.”

Jack was excited too, finally hauling himself off the couch. His stuffed body felt even heavier than before, probably because it was. He was out of breath from the brief exertion, so he just nodded at Jokull, took his clothes, and waddled away to his own room. Fortunately, his room had a rather large door, so he didn’t have to put nearly as much effort into squeezing inside.

In front of the mirror, Jack was quick to pull off the last remaining shreds of his clothes; his mirror was the only place he could see the rest of himself anymore, since his expansive waistline blocked his view of the lower half of his body, the rings of fat around his neck made it more difficult to bend to see, and the pudge of his cheeks obscured the lower half of his vision. In the mirror, he was able to escape the tight confines of what remained of his last outfit and eagerly shook out his new clothes. He was looking forward to the more loose, comfortable fabric, but was a little confused as he started to pull his pants up his thick calves to his thighs. They were already starting to feel a bit tight, but that couldn’t be possible. He’d just measured his size a few days ago.

He hauled them up to his thighs, noticing the way that the jiggling, dimpled fat squeezed into each leg hole like a sausage into its casing. For a moment, he thought their ascent would end right there, but with a fair amount of wriggling, got the waistband up to his ass. Staring back at him in the mirror, however, the flaps of his pants were strained wide apart.

They were supposed to be loose. How had this happened?

Of course, the obvious answer was the grand finale of binges he and Jokull had just completed, and he smacked his forehead, the motion making his arm-fat bounce. No wonder he was bulging out of these in every direction, he’d downed dozens of courses less than fifteen minutes ago!

Prepared for a struggle, Jack now hauled on the pants harder than before, determined to pull them up in time for the big celebration they’d receive upon landing. He could barely even reach the flaps of the pants under his taut, massive gut, but he’d insisted on wearing ‘real’ pants instead of sweats in front of the cameras. He was now wondering if he’d made the wrong choice. He tried lowering himself onto his bed, his pudge pooling around his figure, as he sucked in his breath and hauled on the stubborn zipper. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt it start to slide upwards. A little… more…

When he’d pressed down enough of his lard to drag the zipper up to the top of the waistband, he finally let out his breath, wheezing with the exertion. He still hadn’t pushed the button through, so he had to suck in again to reach and force it through the hole. The closed zipper helped hold the flaps close to each other as he fought with it for a moment, but it finally went through. When he let out his breath, the full force of his gut pushed back into it, but fortunately the button held.

After shoving his way back into a sitting position on the bed, the ring of rolls around his midsection quickly absorbed the waistband and the entirety of his lap, anyway. Next came the shirt, which fit over his head well enough, until he tried to squeeze his arms through and the sleeves dug deeply into his arm fat. He flexed a few times to pull them the rest of the way down, the layers of adipose bunching up around the holes, and he attempted to pull down the hem to complete the outfit. The bottom didn’t even come close. At this point, it barely even covered his moobs, let alone anything below!

“Hey Jack, I have a slight problem.” Jack heard the chuckle come from the other room. A moment later, his bedroom door gently swung open to reveal Jokull with his own new outfit. His shirt was pulled tight across his moobs too, his drooping belly on full display, also engulfing the top half of his pants. It was immediately evident that they were having the same problem. Jokull looked Jack up and down. “Oh, you too, huh?”

Before Jack could respond, he heard a ping from the other room as the automated system warned them to prepare for landing. “Aw man, it’s too late to do anything about it.”

Jokull grinned. “Don’t photographers like when celebrities show a little skin?”

Jack rolled his eyes.

Either way, they had to strap in for landing. Jack ran a his paw through his hair a few times to prepare for their welcoming as he moved into the piloting room, but immediately noticed yet another problem. He’d forgotten the size of the chairs. “Being fat and lazy sure is a lot of work.”

They shared another brief grin as they tried sitting down, the chairs close enough next to each other than their overflowing love handles were getting in each other’s way. When Jack managed to squeeze most of his ass into the seat, the armrests were pressing down firmly enough on his wide, blubbery hips that he didn’t think he needed the seatbelt to keep him firmly in place.

Fortunately, the landing was smooth, only the slight turbulence of entering the atmosphere making the mountains of lard jiggle and quiver. Jack supposed even if they were ejected from their chairs somehow, they’d have plenty of padding.

As the ship finally hit the ground, giving their jello-like bodies one more massive bounce that rippled through them even longer than that, Jack breathed a sigh of relief and went to push himself up from the seat. It was hard to find the armrests buried beneath the rolls of pudge spilling over them, but he leaned his full weight forward in an attempt to let gravity do the work of pulling him right out of the chair.

At his side, Jokull was experiencing the same problem, to a lesser extent. They were practically fighting each other for purchase on the middle armrest, although it was mostly their bellies getting in the way. Jokull jabbed a pudgy finger into Jack’s side. “Move it, fatso.”

“You first!” Jack retorted. As he tried squirming his own way out of his seat, the ship’s intercom began to pick up a live broadcast from outside. It had been so long since they’d been in range of any news stations that it startled them for a second.

“Here we are live from the scene of the return of two famous actors, back from a leisure trip through the stars. The landing is happening as we speak, the ship has touched down and the ramp is just now hitting the ground.”

“Wait, we’re gonna be late to our own welcoming!” Jokull exclaimed, wriggling harder against Jack until he popped free, all of his chub sagging as it unfolded from the tight confines of the chair.

“Wait for me!” It took a bit more heaving from Jack to stand up, his own layers of rolls wedged tight. He looked a bit like a muffin overflowing a tin as he eased himself up from the chair. Eventually, Jokull helped by grabbing both of Jack’s arms and throwing his own weight back again to forcibly remove him. Jack stumbled as he was pulled upright, planting his wide, pudgy paws firmly into the ground.

As they rushed (well, waddled) quickly toward the exit, the intercom continued to blare the scene from outside. Just as the newscast finished summarizing some of their more famous movies for reference, the two globes of portly dragon opened the door.

At first, everyone cheered as they looked toward the door of the ship, but the fanfare quickly died down as the crowd stared in surprise. Even the reporters stammered, and Jack could see that they’d been in the middle of showcasing several posters of two rather thin-looking dragons, hardly recognizable from when they’d departed over a month ago. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle a little; the two actors looked like different people now. He waved his arm at the crowd, the fat rolls practically burying half his face for a moment.

“Oh… here they are now!” The nearest reporter looked as shocked as the others, but was the first to regain her composure. She quickly took several steps up the ramp toward them. The lioness seemed slightly intimidated by their size, but held out the mic. “How does it feel to be back from vacation?”

Jack rested his arms on his overflowing gut for a moment, and the feeling of soft fur suddenly reminded him that beneath the tight shirt stretched like more of a crop top, the entire girth of his bare belly was on display. He absently smoothed his paws over it, feeling the doughy blubber compress at the light touch. “Well, I’m definitely ready for my next role, along with Jokull here.” He tried to gesture toward the purple pile of lard, but they were both too large to stand quite side-by-side, and he couldn’t move his arm back far enough as the fat bunched up on his shoulder. “We’re certainly well-rested enough. Our vacation was very… relaxing.” When he chuckled, his entire belly bounced up and down, putting some strain on the waistband of his pants. He had no idea what the people toward the bottom of the ramp could see, although with how deeply his gut obscured most of his frontside, fortunately it probably wasn’t a lot.

“Well, I’m sure producers will be excited to have you back!” She sounded slightly unsure, and Jack realized at the same time that he and Jokull would be suited for very different roles now that they had such different body types.

If anyone expected them to be disappointed, though, they were wrong. Jack grinned a bit. “And we’re excited to see what new projects await us!”

Jokull seemed to have the same idea. “I can’t wait to see how they cast me next!” He hefted his own giant belly as he spoke, although seemingly unaware of the habit.

The crowd gave a couple of excited cheers, happy to see their favorite actors regardless.

Reporters tried to swarm them as they exited the ramp, but they happily obliged most of the questions. Fortunately, Jack’s massive shelf of a gut seemed to keep most from getting too close, lest they be bowled over. He could hardly see anything past the upper curve, after all. He found the crowd easily parting for him whenever he chose to wade through it, Jokull following closely behind despite his shorter stature.

There was a car waiting to pick them up, but Jack slowed his ponderous waddle as an upcoming problem suddenly occurred to him. “Oh boy…”

The low, sleek limousine had its doors open and waiting, although Jack was pretty sure he saw the driver’s face blanch despite the tinted window.

“Well, after you.” Jokull poked one of his pudgy fingers into Jack’s back rolls. It practically disappeared into them. “Hopefully you’re not too… tall.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he sidled up to the door and tried to swing his way inside. He did have to duck, ironically, although the expected problem came a moment later when his entire body corked itself in the car door. He jerked himself inward a few times, the entire car dipping and straining with the force of his weight. He suddenly yelped as he felt Jokull’s familiar paws on his ass trying to force him inside. “Suck in!”

Jack drew in his breath, pulling and kneading at his own flab as he finally flopped inside. The layers of blubber immediately obscured all of the seats around him, practically filling the abnormally long car usually meant for multiple people.

“How about you go back to our apartment, and I’ll catch the next ride,” Jokull chuckled behind him. “I wouldn’t want to cramp you in there.”

Jack was more worried about the car’s suspension, and probably the integrity of the tires, but just gave his friend a breathless thumbs-up. “See you there!”

~

It felt good to sit on a real couch, on a real floor, in a real room that wasn’t hurtling through space. The familiar surroundings did seem slightly smaller than they remembered, though, as Jack and Jokull worked hard to push the furniture far apart to make up for it. When their asses were finally planted on their own respective couches, they could finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Dealing with fans is tough,” said Jokull tiredly.

Jack felt worn out too. “They seem excited that we’ve returned.” He’d been well aware of how his and Jokull’s bodies would affect their careers, but was even more encouraged by their fans’ support. After the surprise, of course. “I can’t wait to hit the stage again and see what new roles we’ll play.”

Jokull grinned. “Roles? Or rolls,” he said in two different tones.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Oh, hush.” Despite the teasing, he was feeling good about their future. Whether there were more roles in their future—or rolls, of course—he was excited to see where it led.
“I wonder what’ll happen if we get even bigger.” Jokull slid his paws under his belly, nowhere near reaching halfway around.

Watching him prompted Jack to do the same, although he could barely get his paws past all the flab, the soft adipose engulfing his paws when he tried. There was too much to grab, too much to hold, all of it flowing through his chubby arms like an ocean. The way his sagging moobs rested on the various rolls of his belly and sides looked like a rolling mountain, the thunderous thighs buried underneath supporting the overhanging edge of his fat. He felt massive, and he knew it was true. He smiled faintly. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”