Commission for  simon-moo featuring  mazaku

I came up with the idea like 10 minutes before I started writing it, haha. I needed another runner and threw Maz's character in because I know he's one of those nerds who enjoys running. Can you believe that?

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“It feels good to get back on the field again, doesn’t it, Simon?”

“Yeah.” The bull agreed, smiling at the sight before him. It had been over half a year since he and his running partner could do their weekly aerobic exercises, not surprising given it was a half year of quarantine, politics, and other horrible events. Fortunately, the gym-side field remained perfectly preserved, with nary a fur in sight. They had the entire outdoors just to themselves!

With a grin, Simon playfully nudged the murky green dragon beside him with an elbow. “Think you can still keep up with me, Maz? Wouldn’t want you to lag too far behind, what with all that quarantine weight you’ve put on.” The bull cheekily reached out, poking the dragon’s slightly-exposed belly.

Maz grunted in response, pitifully pulling his tank top down in an attempt to hide the squishy scales. “Hey, it’s only a little weight! You try living with a fatass brother who lazes around all day eating.”

Simon snorted. “I thought you had better self control than that.”

“Self cont- excuse me?!” Maz halted in his tracks, staring at the caramel-colored cow in disbelief. “Have you looked in a mirror lately, tubby?”

“Yeah, why?” The bull responded matter of factly, turning to face the astonished dragon.

“Dude, you’re huge! You can’t call me fat if you’re not gonna acknowledge the three hundred pounds you put on!”

The bull blinked, tilting his head enough to make his blond hair flop over. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude.”

“Your XL tanktop can’t even cover your belly!”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, Simon let out a snort, followed by a raccaus laugh, slapping the comparatively-skinny dragon hard on the back. Maz was right, the bull was big. Several months of staying inside, sitting on the couch, and stuffing his face with Ubereats had done wonders for his weight. What was once a potbelly was now an incredible gut that hovered just above his knees, his previously-mentioned tank top tucked into his perky moobs due to the sheer size of that tum. Similarly, the bull’s beefy thighs stretched out his sweats to the limit, thick tears forming along the seems to expose more brown pudge. His once-toned rear was now home to a pair of bouncing bubbly butterballs, engulfing most of his tiny tail. In short, this bull had enough beef on him to feed an entire neighborhood!

He obviously wasn’t afraid to flaunt his girth as well, the hefty heifer playfully bouncing his hip against the slimmer dragon. “I’m just messing with ya, Maz! Yeah, I got a little wide, but that’s not something some jogging can’t fix, right?”

The dragon grunted again, struggling to remain on his feet near the overly-affectionate bull. “W-well...I mean, it might take awhile for you to lose all...that. Did you do any physical activity these past few months?”

“Sure! I got out of bed sometimes!” Simon smiled. He had no idea what Maz was talking about. Wasn’t the point of quarantine to stay home and do as little as possible? The bull did just that; only moving to pick up his delivered food from the doorstep. Admittedly, he was a little out of shape - he was starting to pant before even making it to the field. But he was still the same powerful bull, right? That bull never left, he’s just hidden beneath a few hundred pounds of flab.

Still confident, Simon couldn’t help but jeer at the smaller dragon as they walked onto the track, taking their respective positions. “You ready to lose to a fatass like me, Maz? You’re gonna be eating dust like I eat donuts!”

Maz sneered right back at his heavy friend, noting how the bull’s hips were wider than the lane he was in. “You’re on, tubby. Just don’t get distracted and run off if you hear the ice cream truck.”

Simon snorted in response before crouching low, or at least as low as he could before his fat belly dug into his thighs. In sync, the two out-of-shape runners tapped their tails on the ground thrice, then twice, then once.

And then they were off.

Simon immediately took the lead, his longer legs giving him an advantage. The obese bull felt great! He figured Maz didn’t expect the pudgy bovine to still be in excellent shape! He pumped his thick arms back and forth, his heavy feet kicking up plenty of dust. A wide grin spread across his stubby muzzle. He was still an amazing runner! He could easily win this race backwards. He could...he...he…

Oh god, this was excruciating!

Simon’s lead lasted all of five seconds before the bull felt himself petering out, gasping and wheezing for breath. What was a strong dash soon turned into a slow and lumbering waddle, his hooves dragging along the ground. What the hell happened? One second he was doing great, the next his lungs felt ready to explode, the hefty bovine forced to take big greedy gulps of air just to stay conscious!

On his left, Simon felt Maz pass him by, the chubby dragon snickering. “I’d tell you to eat my dust, but I think you’ve done enough eating!”

“Shut it, pipsqueak!” Simon barked back, too tired to even think of a proper insult. So much for showing up the dragon. Gulping down the buildup of saliva in his throat, the bulky bull leaned forward and continued his jog, albeit at a much more leisurely pace.

Thump thump thump. His knees dug into the underside of his wobbling belly as he moved, making it difficult for the fat bovine to get a single breath in. His tank-top dug deep into his wobbly moobs, sticking to his sweaty chest. He felt a similar dilemma occur with his sweatpants, the fabric ripping and tearing ever so slightly whenever Simon tried stretching his legs.

Wheezing for air, the bull desperately scrambled to recall his knowledge of jogging from months ago. Take deep breaths in a pattern, always pump your arms, keep your head up and your shoulders square. Yeah, he can still do this! He’s a little slower and heavier, but he could still jog just fine! Sure, it was annoying feeling his moobs flop about, or his cheeks wobble with every heavy step. Heck, the bull had to wipe his messy bangs out of his eyes every other step, feeling the sweat build up on his forehead. But at least he was making progress, right?

Simon looked around, before letting out a groan. He wasn’t even halfway done!

“In and out. In and out.” Simon mentally told himself to keep his breathing steady, yet all that accomplished was making the bull crave In-N-Out. He winced when he noticed his pits feeling sweaty, rubbing against his arms and sides while he jogged. His sweatpants were now appropriately named, the bull groaning at the feeling of his sweaty thighs rubbing against each other. It was October, yet the obese heifer was practically burning up!

Simon’s ears flickered as he heard a pair of jogging footsteps beside him, followed by a familiar sneering voice. “If I tied a Twinkie to a string and waved it in front of your face, would it help you move faster?”

The bull groaned, too busy gasping for air to even bother trying to speak. Maz had completely lapped him! The dragon hardly looked more than a bit winded, even temporarily jogging backwards just to watch the butterball bull bounce and jiggle before continuing his jog. Simon’s cheeks grew even hotter, not out of shame, but out of the realization that chasing after food probably would make him go faster!

His eyes started to sting, sweat from his messy hair dripping across his entire face. Simon was on life support, his breathing now hagged and raspy, his jog now a half-hearted shuffle. Sweat poured off his body, leaving behind a trail as he stammered and staggered along. Every muscle in his body ached, not just his legs. His heart pounded furiously, his lungs dry and scratchy.

He was done.

Not even bothering to check where he was, the bull decided enough was enough. He barely had the stamina to waddle towards the grassy field before collapsing onto his back, staring up at the early-morning sky. Even looking straight up, the bovine could see his bulbous belly in his peripheral vision, rising and falling rapidly with his shallow breathing, the brown fur completely drenched in sweat.

He didn’t even hear Maz come over, the fat bull deafened by his own heavy breathing and pounding heart. Soon, his vision focused, and he could see the smaller dragon looking over him, concerned on his chubby face. “You alright, big guy? I heard you falling all the way on the other side!”

“Yeah...I’m fine,” Simon huffed. The cool grass felt incredible on his overheated back. He didn’t want to move from his spot.

The dragon’s snout wrinkled. “Phew. You smell like moldy hamburgers, dude!”

“You’re such a good friend, Maz.” Simon rolled his eyes. He knew he was sweaty and smelly, his clothes were practically caked onto his greasy body. Even raising and lowering his eyebrows felt sticky and gross. It was gonna take more than a single shower to clean himself off.

With a smirk, Maz lowered himself onto his rump, carefully patting the bull’s big belly. “You did pretty good, all things considering.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m serious! I don’t think I could have done a single lap with all that extra flab, and you did a lap and a half!”

Simon looked up at his draconic friend, and saw that he was completely serious. The bull smiled, feeling his spirits lift. “I...didn’t think I finished a single lap.”

Maz chuckled. “Sorry for showing you up like that. I couldn’t just let you smack talk like that and get away with it.”

“It’s fine.” Simon huffed, propping himself up slightly, bunching his thick chins up. “You can make up for it by letting me sit on you.”

“Shower first, then I’ll consider it.” Maz smirked, playfully shoving that jiggling gut. “I told you, I have a fatass brother who lazes around all day. I’m used to it by this point.”

“Pip squeak.”

“Fat ass.” Maz chuckled. “You know, I could make it up to you another way. I hear Krispy Kreme is doing a “buy a dozen, get a dozen free’ deal.”

Simon perked up. “Now you’re speaking my language!”