DC : Crisis of infinite hunger : Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Wally’s New Normal

Wally West lay sprawled out on the worn couch in Titans Tower, a half-empty pizza box balancing on his gut. He sank deeper into the cushions, letting out a lazy sigh, surrounded by the wreckage of his recent indulgences. Wrappers, empty cans, crumpled napkins, and pizza boxes littered the floor. His red speedster suit, once a sleek second skin, now struggled to contain his growing bulk. His belly rose and fell with every breath, spilling over his waistband and pressing into his thighs.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stifled a belch. His stomach groaned, not in protest, but in hunger. No matter how much he ate, the gnawing hunger never left—it was constant, like a black hole inside him, demanding more. He reached lazily for another slice, his fingers greasy from the pizza he'd already inhaled.

His once-athletic frame had morphed significantly over the past few days. Where lean muscle used to stretch over his abs and legs, now soft rolls of fat had taken up residence. His thighs had thickened into heavy trunks, rubbing together beneath the tight material of his suit, and his rear had grown fuller, making every seat feel smaller. Even his face had softened, the sharp angles of his cheekbones blunted by a rounding fullness that made him look far too relaxed for a man with super-speed.

He was halfway through demolishing another slice when Nightwing strolled in. As always, the former Boy Wonder moved with an effortless grace, hands on his hips, a playful smirk already tugging at the corner of his lips.

“West! Geez, what the hell happened to you?” Nightwing quipped, eyeing the mess and Wally’s swollen frame. “Did you race into a bakery and just... never leave?”

Wally grinned around a mouthful of pizza, swallowing it down with a loud gulp. “What can I say? I’ve developed a... new hobby.”

Nightwing shook his head, amused, and without skipping a beat, extended his fist. “Well, if you're still alive enough to joke about it, I guess you're doing alright.”

With some effort, Wally leaned forward, his belly folding as he reached to return the gesture. Their fists met with a dull smack, the simple camaraderie shared between old friends—but what neither of them noticed was the unseen, subtle exchange. The moment their hands touched, the insatiable hunger that had plagued Wally for days latched onto Nightwing, the virus transferring to its next victim.

Nightwing let his hand linger for a second, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the grease-covered glove now pressed against his own. "You know, you might wanna try washing up every now and then."

“Yeah, yeah. Just keeping it authentic,” Wally shot back, easing himself back into the couch with a heavy sigh, the effort causing the pizza box balanced on his stomach to tilt dangerously to the side.

Nightwing gave the room another once-over, taking in the clutter and the sheer amount of food Wally must’ve gone through. “Seriously though, you’ve really let yourself go. When was the last time you even went for a run?”

“Yesterday,” Wally said defensively, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his laziness. “To the fridge and back.”

Nightwing snorted. “Right. Well, if you're this far gone, I gotta at least stick around and make sure you don’t pass out from a food coma.” He gave the pizza box a nudge with his boot. “Y'know im actually feeling kinda hungry myself. You got anything left in there, or should we order some more?”

Wally’s eyes lit up, and he pushed himself up slightly—enough to grab his phone from between the couch cushions. “More. Definitely more.”

“Good call,” Nightwing said, plopping down on the opposite side of the couch, his lean frame looking out of place beside Wally’s increasingly bloated one.

Wally snickered as he navigated the delivery app. “You eating junk food? I thought you lived off protein shakes and crime-fighting adrenaline.”

Nightwing leaned back, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, well... I guess hanging out with you has me in the mood to indulge.” His stomach gave a low grumble, almost as if on cue, and he rubbed it absentmindedly. “Man, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.”

They placed an order big enough to feed a small party—several pizzas, wings, fries, burgers, and even a couple of milkshakes. Wally had become something of an expert on takeout recently and knew exactly what to get.

While they waited for the food, Nightwing with hunger growing more prevalent, reached for a leftover crust sitting atop a greasy napkin. “You gonna finish this?” he asked casually.

Wally gave a lazy shrug. “All yours, man.”

Nightwing popped the crust into his mouth without hesitation. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to spark something inside him. The moment the food hit his stomach, the hunger intensified—a need that hadn’t been there before. His appetite was usually pretty controlled, but now it felt like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, *everything* sounded good.

Just as the doorbell rang, the two heroes exchanged glances. They could already taste the food, and the excitement of diving into the next meal washed away any lingering concerns.

When the delivery guy left, the two friends tore into the food like ravenous beasts. Wings were devoured, burgers disappeared within moments, and fries vanished by the handful.

Wally, wiping sauce off his chin, nudged Nightwing with his elbow. “Man. This is the life.”

Nightwing, chewing on a slice of pizza, gave a lazy smirk. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Nightwing shifted on the couch, tugging at the fabric of his suit. It felt... tighter than usual, especially around his thighs. At first, he thought it was just the usual discomfort that came with sitting down after a long day, but as he adjusted, he realized that wasn’t it. The material was pressing against him differently, clinging to his legs and rear like it was a size too small.

Nightwing stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles as he gave himself a quick once-over. His thighs definitely looked thicker, filling out the sleek black material of his suit in a way that hadn’t been there earlier. His backside, too, felt heavier against the couch—his glutes softening slightly as they began to press more against the cushion. But the thought drifted out of his mind just as quickly as it had entered, overtaken by the growing rumble of hunger gnawing at his insides.

Nightwing, normally so disciplined, ate with reckless abandon. Now joining Wally stuck in an endless cycle of hunger and gluttony.