Chapter 1 - 1

Deeana worked tirelessly at the local clinic. Known to her patients for her gentle bed side manner and her soothing voice, Deeana offered her patients a beacon of comfort in their most trying moments. Her long blonde hair tied back in a neat bun while on the clock, her scrubs never a wrinkle out of place. Her eyes, while tired often from long shifts, held a spark of empathy that never dimmed.

Scanning the charts on calendar for the morning, Deeana found Eric assigned to her. A new patient admitted to the Clinic after a nasty injury during an intramural baseball league match. A tall, well-groomed man in his mid-thirties, Eric's body typically stood as a testament to athleticism. Now, though, a thick cast encased his right shin and foot, marring his otherwise muscular body.

Deeana opened the door with a muted squeak. Glancing up from his phone, Deeana felt a pang of sympathy at the mask of pain and frustration spread across her patient’s face. As she looked closely, her eyes drifted to the faintest hint of a round bulge outlining the edges of a once slender frame. Had he put on weight?

“Good morning, Eric, I'm Deeana. I’ll be managing your rehab and nutrition plan over the next several months," she said, her voice deliberately erring to the side of professionalism.

Eric welcomed her with a half-smile, as his green eyes lit up slightly at the sight of her. “So, you’re the one who’s going to make sure I don’t turn into a couch potato?”

Deeana dipped her head affirmatively. “Something like that.”

She kept matters strictly on task, doing all she could to ensure her secret...preferences didn't interfere with her work. The image in her mind of those muscles obscured by excess flesh sent shivers down Deeana's spine that she strove to ignore.

She explained the rehab process in detail, avoiding any mention of the word ‘diet,’ for now. Eric listened intently. His eyes never left hers, the heat of his gaze beading down as she jotted down notes. Deeana feared he could see through her facade and into the deepest recesses of her mind.

"Okay, Eric, let's start with a proper assessment," she said, her voice betraying none of the internal conflict.

With a sigh, Eric sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. His biceps flexed as he slid the fabric off his shoulders, revealing the beginnings of a small but unmistakable layer of chub forming over once chiseled abs. Deeana knew better than to let her eyes loiter. She wheeled the scale closer to the bed and helped Eric maneuver his injured leg onto it. Once in position, the numbers climbed steadily, finally stopping a few pounds higher than his last recorded weight in the file.

Next, Deeana produced a tape measurer from a nearby drawer. The white plastic felt cold as it slithered around Eric’s warm skin. She measured his waist, chest, and hips, noting the subtle changes in their circumference. He watched her work with curiosity and a hint of excitement. She could feel his breath on her neck as she read his measurements. Deeana disregarded the urge to lean back into it.

“From my review of your charts, you’ve put on some weight since you were first admitted,” she observed, her voice as neutral as possible. Deeana didn’t dare reveal the feelings the extra weight stirred.

Eric’s smile faltered. He glanced down at his stomach, the layer of fat now more pronounced. “Yeah, I guess being stuck on your butt’ll do that,” he accepted, trying to make light of the situation.

Deeana made no reaction, maintaining a practiced and polished demeanor. "It's perfectly normal," she assured. "But we'll need to keep an eye on it to prevent further weight gain during your recovery. I'll tailor your meals and exercise plan to help you keep your strength without adding unnecessary pounds."

Although Deeana secretly liked the gain, she assumed Eric would want to work back down to a thinner form. The cravings within grew stronger, but she beat them back down as best she could. This was her job, to help him, not explore her personal fantasies.

"Alright, let's get to it," Eric said, a hint of determination in his voice as he sat up.

The sterile smell of antiseptic predominated the room, but she couldn’t help noticing the faint scent of Eric's cologne. She tried to ignore the changes to his body. The fullness of his chest and the softness sprouting atop his midsection.

With each measurement, Deeana perceived an energy between them. The tape measure whispered over Eric’s skin as she detailed the circumference of his chest, forcing her mind back to the task at hand. "Good," she murmured, scribbling notes in Eric’s file. "Ideally, we’ll keep you strong but lean."

As Eric carefully maneuvered his injured leg to adjust his stance, Deeana noticed the way his added weight shifted his balance. Deeana reviewed her patient’s records, who seemed unexpectedly heavier. She felt a strange thrill at the sight of how his powerful muscles now supported a softer form.

"Deeana, can I ask you something?" Eric's voice uncertain. "Do you think it's okay that I've...indulged a little during my recovery?"

Deeana's eyes rose up from her clipboard. She could see Eric’s uncertainty. She hesitated. "It's...completely natural to want comfort food during times of stress and inactivity," she consoled in a reassuring tone. "I'm sure we'll get you back on track."

In reality, she found Eric's weight gain incredibly alluring. The way his muscles stretched under the emerging film of plump flesh, how his body started to fill out his clothes. Deeana knew the inappropriate nature of those feelings, though. Instead, she focused on her job, her pen moving quickly over the chart as she outlined a rehabilitation schedule.

"We'll open with some moderate exercises. As your leg heals, we'll strengthen your upper body and lats to keep your overall fitness levels up. And I'll make sure you eat all the cal...err... NUTRIENTS you need."

"I've been away from the gym lately," he admitted while patting his stomach, oblivious to Deeana's slip. "I guess it's time to get back to work."

"I guess so." Deeana concurred with an inviting smile.