Shepard sat as his desk in his quarters, finishing his evening meal while going through his messages at his terminal. Usually meals aboard the Normandy weren't particularly what you'd call appetising, but Shepard had noticed that something tasted different about todays meals, better even.
He stood up to stretch his legs, and began removing his uniform top to get ready for bed. He left the top on the char and opened the door to the bathroom behind him. Lost in his own thoughts, Shepard undid the zipper on his uniform pants and hooked out his cock to take a piss. Everything felt pretty normal, until he looked down.
Placing a hand on his front, he noticed his abdomen was slightly curving out at the bottom, pressing it, he realised it was a modest belly. Normally this would have been cause for alarm, as it wasn't there when he woke up that morning, but it was too late, the toxin had spread to everyone aboard the Normandy, and any man Shepard got close to would succumb to the weight gain effect too.
Curiously, the 32 year old stepped onto the scales. Shepard was 6"1 tall, and normally weighed 195 pounds of toned, athletic muscle. But the scale said 197. He stared at the number, it suddenly rounding up to 198. Suddenly Shepard let out a modest burp.
"Hmmm, guess I shouldn't have had the extra burrito" he shrugged, patting the soft bump. Flushing the toilet, Shepard washed his hands before leaving the bathroom and crossing to the authorised of his quarters to the bed.
He pulled off his uniform pants, so he was just in black boxer briefs, and climbed into bed.
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