arthvalen

[arthvalen]

[arthvalen]

[arthvalen]

An Excellent Choice

Dedicated to my valentine, the lovely @mergeman​

———————————————–

“You still sure you want to do this?” Brad texted.  Finn had already spent most of the bus ride on his phone, so he’d already finished reading the message by the time his text notification had finished chiming.  “It’s okay if you get cold feet.  I won’t be offended. ;) I promise!”

Finn couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  “sounds like ur the one w cold feet” he shot back.  “i already told u were doin this”  Granted, he would have been lying if he’d said that he had no fear… but Finn had worked through all of that hesitation when he purchased the bus ticket.  He’d spent far too much time and money on this offer only to back out now.

Brad was offering $150,000 to a like-minded young soul who was willing to merge with him.  The man was pushing 60, and was hoping to absorb enough youth to try life over again.  For his part, Finn was sick of scraping by from paycheck to paycheck, and if that meant giving up 20 years of his life, well… at least he was being reimbursed for it.  Five years of his current job’s wages was no joke, and the funds would go a long way towards buying a reliable home, and maybe even a down payment on a house.

And anyway, it wasn’t like he was going to disappear.  Rather than opting for the type of merge that put two men into one body, this would be one of the more experimental versions where two people combine all of their traits, and each person becomes the average value.  Finn stepped off the bus and started looking around the agreed-upon meeting place to see if the other man was here.

“Guess I’ll tell my bank not to stop that money transfer.  I really didn’t think you were going to show up, but here you are.”  He watched as an older gentleman strolled up to him, looking very out of place in dark navy sweats.  More impressive was the raven black hair, which looked very out of place given his wrinkled skin and frail figure.  “What, you’ve never seen a man desperately cling to youth with hair dye before?” he asked, clearly used to the stares.  “We can’t all have vibrant hair color, Finley.”

“I’m used to your kind trying to over-compensate with fancy cars,” Finn admitted, unable to pull his eyes away from the older man’s thick beard.  “And my name is Finn.  Respect my name, and I’ll respect yours.  Bradford.”

Brad threw his head back in raucous laughter.  “Oh yes, you are an excellent choice.  Come here!”  Brad pulled him in close, and started to kiss him full on the lips.  It took Finn a few moments to realize that the odd sensation in his mouth was Brad’s tongue, and a few more moments to realize that the kiss was how Brad was planning to perform the merge.  His height was one of the first things to go– he no longer needed to bend down to maintain contact– and his skin felt a bit stiff as it tightened with age.  But it was the beard that really felt odd.

Brad’s facial hair crept onto Finn’s chin and worked its way up his sideburns like some sort of crawling ooze, while a smaller tendril grew up toward his nose to form a mustache.  The sudden itch of new hair under his nose was a bit much, and Finn briefly opened his eyes.  The man in front of him was clearly a few decades younger, which could only mean he was now a few decades older.

“Just a bit more,” Brad said, panting for breath.  “We need to even out our hair color, and I think our weight is still a bit uneven.  Once we’re done we can stop by the courthouse and file all the paperwork.”  Finn nodded in understanding, and leaned back in for another kiss.

———————————————–

“Is it normal for hair dye to completely vanish when a merge has finished?” Brad asked, as they sat in front of a mirror in the lobby of the County Recorder Clerk.  “Our hair should be a combination of the two inputs, but it’s like your red hair and my former brown hair mixed together, rather than the deep black I was dyeing it to be once it started to go gray.”

Finn just shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know why you’re asking me.  You were my first merge.  I didn’t even really register that this was a technology that existed until you reached out to me.  I’m just glad we just look like twins and not, like… cloned copies of each other.”

“I’m just glad I got to keep my piercings,” Brad said as he absent-mindedly traced the heavy stud with his finger.  “Sorry if you didn’t want to deal with jewelry.  Yours look small enough that it would probably heal shut in a few weeks.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Finn admitted, still getting used to the idea that the man with the thick beard was his new reflection and his new body.  “Do you think they would let us change our names when we register with the state?  I really don’t feel like a Finley anymore.”

“I hope so,” Brad replied, following up with another deep laugh.  “I was planning to change my name to Bradley.  It won’t change my nickname but, it just feels right somehow.  Like our names merged when our bodies did.”

Finn smiled.  “I think you’re right.  Finnegan sounds pretentious and borderline obnoxious, but… I also think that it’s my name, now.”

Brad responded by slinging an arm around his shoulder, giving Finn a supportive squeeze.  “I think it’s an excellent choice.”

[arthvalen]

Quarter back and his friend continued to disrespect the couch and their team. Showing up late to practice and when they did attend they would do their own thing. It got to the point they two young men were cornered by one of their teammates. Turns out their actions led the coach and assistant coach to quit.

"Looks like you two slackers are going to have to fill in the positions now." Their teammate smirked.

Before they could do anything they're both hit with a strange light. Shortly after the two young men undergo a metamorphosis. Both of them aging into their late 30s, hair growing all over them. Their lean muscles thicken, while their minds are wiped of their old selves. Leaving them to be molded into the two new men. In heir daze they're overcome with lust for each other.

The Quarterback, now the coach, grabs his oldmfriend and pulps him into a kiss.

[arthvalen]

White Shirt, Blue Jeans

I'm telling you man, all you need is a white tee and some blue denim and you've got that hot classic look ready to go. Alright, alright, maybe you need to have the perfect bod to really sell the package, but don't worry, the store told me it all comes with the purchase. Just watch. They even recommended me to buy a larger size since you can fill them out as much as you want. All you gotta do is flex a little. Like this! O-oh... fuck... that was quick. L-look dude my arm's blowing up... giant meaty cannons, stretching these sleeves to their limit. Yeah, shoulders and forearms are getting nice and big too. I might have to look into their sleeveless options now, heh? They said the shirts leave loads of room in the front so you have to ugh... remember to fill... them.... out...! F-fuck sorry bro, didn't mean to give you a face full of my pecs, goddamn they're like tits now, look at them jiggle. See, with the white color you really get that sexiness. Skin tight, translucent fabric - unh - brushing against my nipples. Can't forget about the jeans either, giving me a nice big bubble butt. Thighs rubbing up against each other, calves squashed tight, there's barely any room left bro. Shit, I can hardly stand, huhu. A-Ah...? Down there too? Ooo, I can feel my cock throbbing, balls getting s-so heavy... Aw fuck... I think I burst the zipper on these pants, huhu, guess they couldn't handle the beast. Fuck, why do I feel so horny...? Bro, bro you gotta help me, this feels too good. I-I should have read the warning tags. W-wait, where did you get that cap? You weren't supposed to - ugh -find that. Bro, hold on, wait wait, the store said the caps make you more- Ooooooooogh. Nooooooooo... Stoppppphh...

huhuhuhu... look at my tits bro.

[arthvalen]

Break Out

"Psst! Hey! Hey, Red!"

I tossed my ginger curls out of my face, looking up at the fellow detainee across from me. ‘Red...’ such a dumb fuckin’ line, everyone drops it thinking they’re the cleverest person in the room. I have red hair, hardy har, so people call me Red, tee hee, give me a break.

He’s short, maybe a hair over 5’6”, but a fireplug of a man. Sure, darker blonde, but a fireplug. Even in his baggy clothes, I could tell that he was pretty beefy, like in a got a little too into juicing after high school kind of way.

“What’ll it be, Yellow…” I mumbled back.

He shoots me a weird look. I mime at my hair. He narrows his eyes and shakes away the confusion.

"Give me 50 pounds!"

I shot him an even weirder look than he gave me, and he just gestured back and forth to me and himself excitedly, with both of his wrists tied together with the thick, industry standard zip ties that the pigs always carry around by the dozen at protests.

“What?”

“Jss—Fuckin’ give me 50! I’ll get us outta here!”

“… Pounds.”

“Yeah, c’mon!”

I scoffed, “You can eat 50 lbs of shit.”

“Dude, just—ARGH, just say it, man! Trust me! You can spare it, you’re a big dude! Look, I promise I’ll get us out of here.”

He wasn’t wrong, I probably weighed the same as him. Sure, on a frame easily half a hoot taller than him, but I’ve paid my dues at the alter of vain size building. Anything to at least minimize the amount of ginger jokes I had to endure in school. Thanks a lot, South Park… Wait, 50 lbs of…?

“50 lbs of what then?”

“You, dude! Muscle, size! C’mon dude, we gotta be quick!”

Great, stuck in holding, again, with another horny tweaker, again. It’s like I’m a magnet for this type of shit.

“You want 50 lbs of muscle from me, huh? What, you’re gonna Superman your way outta here?”

“W—I mean, kinda,” he chuckled and shrugged as I rolled my eyes with a grin. I had to admit, Yellow was charming, in a dorky, too much adrenaline kind of way. “And ‘our’ way outta here, man!… C’mon, I’ll give it right back! Trust me, like, we were at the same protest, we’re already on the same team?”

I chuckled behind my grin, “Even you gotta admit that turned into a little more than a protest.”

He shrugged again behind a smirk, “No justice, no peace.”

I outwardly laughed this time. I scratched my knee with my wrists bound together, feeling my forearm graze against the slight chub I was forming. This guy’s clearly got a few screws loose but his charisma was undeniable. Was it because he was built to exactly my type? Whatever, may as well play along, we were likely going to be spending the next few hours together in holding.

He caught me studying him, and opened his palms upwards and raised his eyebrows in a game show host imitation.

I snorted, “Fine, Yellow. You can have 50 lbs of my muscle. Now, how a—!”

My breath caught in my throat and my jaw shot open as I sucked a whooping gasp, my fists clenching and my shoulders tensing up, my abs knotted up and my hips thrusted forward like I was yanked by lasso.

The moment the words left my mouth, I was instantly, fully, throbbingly rock hard. My dick was pulling like an iron rod towards him, making my sweats tent in a way I didn’t know the fabric was capable of handling. In my dizzy, star-spangled vision, I could see the same was true for Yellow. He was similarly tensed and flexed, but smiling widely and dumbly with droopy orgasmic eyes and seemed to be experiencing it much more relaxed way than I was.

He panted quietly, “Don’t worry, dude, it’s just the connection being made, you’re gonna love th—HOOOOOO!!”

It must have hit him the same moment it hit me—it felt like a massive, pillowy, slobbering set of lips smooched down onto my mushroom head, tightly forced itself down the length of my shaft, and began thirstily sucking me off! I continued with my shuddering gasps as he gritted his teeth and hissed with his eyes pinched shut, shushing me as he did, so as to… what? Not alert the pigs making calls and typing up reports? I felt like I was going zero to ten in seconds, on the very verge of busting!

Then as I was gonna bust, the wildest sensation imaginable hit me. It felt like thick, oozing, orgasmic energy like mound after mound of warm, lubricated meat was being sucked directly out of my shaft. I looked down at the throbbing tent in my sweats to get an eye of what was happening, but I would only see my mushroom head flaring over and over again, catching an eye of Yellow’s doing the same through the fabric of his pants.

As the energy shot out of my shaft towards him, I could feel what could only be described as levitating. It felt like my body was becoming lighter and lighter and lighter, with pulse after orgasmic pulse. I rolled my eyes back with lustful, dumb laughter, feeling like I could float away. With each pulse, I could feel my clothes breathing gusts of air out around my neck, arms, waist, and feet as they settled loosely on my smaller frame. As I felt my height shrink considerably, I looked down with a dumb giggle as I watched my cock throb, then thin, throb, then shorten, throb, throb, throb, then—

I pinched my eyes shut and yelped involuntarily as finally came. And came. Shit, and came some more! I swear to god I’d never had an orgasm last as long as it did. Plus, judging by the warm soupy feeling in my boxer briefs, I shot more than I think I ever had!

Then—and at this point I knew I had to be going insane—because then? Yellow was… changing.

He kept his breaths heavy but his volume low as I watched his entire body pulse, and pulse. With each consecutive pulse, his stature stretched taller, his frame stretch wider, and—

“Hhuurrrrrnnnnngg…” he arched his back with a gurgling, euphoric growl, clearly also involuntary, since he’d been such a nag about our volume, as he continued to pulse like a giant heart, only this time his muscles appeared to be joining in on the action. They swelled thicker and broader under his increasingly tightening clothes, the ones that were seconds ago basically hanging on him like a tent, making them audibly stretch and become deliciously tighter. I heard the leather of his boots creak and I watched as they appeared to inflate from within as his thighs and claves rounded with size. He gurgled again as his torso, chest, and abs widened and grew and his throat thickened, making each button down his henley pop, pop… pop pop pop down to reveal his chiseled cleavage.

He seemed to hurry now, his breath quickening, as he rushed his bound hands down to his buckle. As he did, his job was made more difficult by his expanding, bulging arms, each snaking with angry chords of veiny muscle, as he frantically undid his belt. He threw his too-tight zipper down, quickly dug in, and liberated his throbbing boyfriend cock. Ah, so he clearly knew what was coming—the sexy fucker could’ve at least warned me.

“MMMPFF, MMPF, MMMNuuhh…” he lightly moaned behind tight lips as I watched his dick bloom outwards and upwards, encouraged by his bucking hips, lifting higher and thicker into the air like a flower searching for sun, until he—! He gasped in a quick breath as he leaned over, making his bench groan under his new weight, as he erupted thick squirting volleys of cum onto the floor adjacent to us.

Splat, splat, splat, splat, splat… Splat. I watched each load shoot out of him in disbelief. Both obviously at the quantity and also what had just been shared—or exchanged—between us in… Well shit, now that the haze from my orgasm was clearing, it couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds since those last words left my lips to now! Now we were both left in a panting fog, the room saturated with our stink, as he finally started to tuck away his fresh donkey dick.

He glanced over at the splatters on the floor he’d made, “Sorry about that,” he muttered, struggling to zip up his pants. “Didn’t want to… y’know, soak my shorts.” He nodded at my sweats—not overtly soaked themselves but threatening to start showing signs, if my overflowing briefs were any indication—and laughed a bit, wincing as he slowly forced his zipper up, doubtlessly strangling his now-sizable package.

I huffed out a laugh along with him, “What—..” I swallowed dryly, hearing the cracks in my voice. “What did you d—?”

“No time, we gotta bounce,” he grinned with a rich, cocky baritone.

He stood up. And up, and up, towering over his former stature. Yellow’s face pinched with effort as I watched his arms flex angrily.

“RRRNNnngg,” Yellow grunted with an animalistic huff. I swear I could hear his guns tightening like rope! With a sharp “NTCCHuuuh…” and an accompanying defeated *SNIP!* the industrial strength zip tie broke like it was made of cheap plastic. He looked down at where it’d landed and glanced back up at me with another cocky grin.

“Well shit,” I remarked with a chuckle, panting out the last of my exhaustion from my sudden transformation. He popped his firm pecs with that cocky grin as he kneeled towards me.

He sniffed as he leaned in, “Woof! You really made a mess didn’t you?” He grinned up at me, slipping a finger then two under my zip ties. I must’ve blushed a little at the comment, because he chuckled back up at me, “No sweat Red,” He tilted his head back to the creamy puddle on the floor. We both huffed a laugh.

My “cuffs” had loosened from the transformation quite a bit. Still not enough to slip out of, but enough for him to slip two of his thick fingers through. He grunted again and pulled until mine snapped too. He tossed mine to the floor with his and held out a hand to help me up from the bench. I accepted and he lifted me up, making me bounce on me feet a little once

I felt… Hell, I looked pretty sick actually! Had a little bit of the look I remember when I was going straight into undergrad! Minus the nubbier but wickedly more sensitive hog I was now sporting. Used to get laid constantly back then, at least way more than now. But now with gig jobs, keeping a steady gym schedule, taking care of my siblings for my deadbeat folks… Who’s got the time? But… fuck! Yellow had really worked his magic… on both of us!

“You just gonna stare?” He snapped me out of it, “Or should we get out of here?”

“Y-you lead, I guess,” holding up my sweats and briefs (being sure to clutch the briefs tightly so none of my spunk dribbled out, couldn’t handle more embarrassment) the with one hand.

He approached the door to our holding room, grateful that it was some cheap office door with a shitty lock, and quickly but forcefully pushed outwards with his boulder-like shoulders. He and I both huffed out a satisfied laugh as it gave with little of his effort, uttering only a small *crack* as the lock gave up its measly effort inside and swung open.

We hurried it to the end of the long corridor of other holding rooms until it T-intersected with another hallway, and we looked both ways. On one end of the connecting hallway, we could hear the click-clacking of keyboards, the cacophony of calls coming through too-old landlines, and the hubbub of the chatter coming from the station’s staff. On the other end, a fire exit door, with the trademark red illuminated EXIT sign over it with the machinery connected to the door that would set off the alarm once the door was opened.

He leaned in to whisper to me, “We’re gonna have to split up once that alarm goes off. You know Francisco’s?”

“The diner?” I replied back. Good old Francisco’s Diner, always there late at night when you need a ton of carbs after a night of binging. “Waaay too well, yeah I know it.”

“Let’s meet up there. 7 o’clock? Gives you about an hour to get more, uh, decent?” He chuckled back at me.

“Fuck you,” I laughed back, “Ain’t my fault I need to clean up.”

“HEY! What the hell you think you’re doing?!”

We both looked down the other end of the hall, where some fatass pig was moving towards us. Both of our hearts jumped.

“Remember, 7 o’clock, Francisco’s!” Yellow grabbed onto me and shoved me in the direction of the door. I stumbled forwards, making my way to the fire exit, looking back behind me to see Yellow give the pig a linebacker’s shove, forcing him to the floor and knocking the wind out of him, then turning to sprint the way I was going.

I pushed out of the fire exit door, momentarily blinded by the afternoon light and deafened by the accompanying ring of the alarm and bolting to the right, out of the parking lot. I only looked back once to see Yellow sprinting out of the building too, laughing out loud as he ran away from the three cops uselessly chasing after him, tripping over themselves. Thankfully with all of their attention on him, the last thing I saw before I turned the corner was him effortlessly hopping the stone fence on the other side of the parking lot.

I continued running—gliding honestly, the lighter size feeling totally abnormal but thrilling—block after block after block, until I made it to the courtyard of my building. What spunk hadn’t dried against my crotch had spilled out of my briefs and down the leg of my sweats creating a sticky, cool sensation. I checked the time on the ornate courtyard clock. 5:45. Still plenty of time to get cleaned up!

Cleaned up, plus a little exploration. Damn, I felt the same way looked: svelte and sexy as hell. My nubby cock was already greedily throbbing before I unlocked my apartment door.

———

The bell hanging above the door of Francisco’s Diner jingled as I walked in (a fashionable 20 minutes late—what the hell, I got, uhh, distracted). Of the things that would’ve fit me in my closet, I settled on a skate brand tank top I hadn’t worn since college and a pair of gym shorts, drawstring tied extra tight. All of it still hung off me, I must’ve looked emaciated.

“Ay, Red!” Yellow waved over at me from one of the booths along the window. He sported an undershirt and vest along with his own pair of gym shorts, except all of his looked way too tight, compared to my way too loose apparel. What a pair we made!

I slid into the booth, grinning and sighing, “Sorry I’m late, I—”

“Had to give it all a test run, huh?” He chuckled into his coffee mug. I shrugged with a grin. “Don’t sweat it! Meee too, man, me too. I only got here like 5 minutes ago.”

“That was crazy how you got us out of there, man. Any trouble?”

“None! Actually, once I was over the fence around the parking lot, they’d basically given up. You?”

“Not at all. Thankfully all of their attention was on you!”

“Not surprised! Can you imagine what a prize it would be for them if they caught all this? I’m lookin’ like fuckin Superman now.”

He punctuated his cocky brag with a tight flex of his guns, bursting with both his and my combined strength.

“Gotta say,” I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee he’d ordered me. “Looks fucking good on you, dude.”

“Hey, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow with a grin, bouncing his pecs at me. “You’re looking pretty good yourself there, Red.”

We sat for a few moments sipping our mugs, the obvious horny mist between us simmering and the unspoken recognition of each of our hard-ons adding to our admiration of one another’s bodies. I had to admit, Yellow had one me over. Whether it was because of his charm, his solidarity, his magic, or his bod, the short time we’d come to know each other had caused some kind of spark to ignite.

At the moment I was going to quietly ask that we go somewhere more private, he piped up, stretching and arms and back behind him against the booth.

“Well, a promise is a promise. You ready to get your size back?”

I smiled, “That would be great... Wait, here??” I remembered the mess we made at the station. Surely a mom and pop diner like Francisco’s wouldn’t appreciate a display like that in their establishment.

“I think the bathroom might be a better option. After you,” he gestured his arm out of the booth.

I sauntered over to the bathroom located behind the counter of Francisco’s open kitchen, looking back to see if Yellow was following. He’d left a $10 on the table for our coffees plus a generous tip for the staff and was already close behind me. I opened the door to the single use bathroom, while he held the door, slapping my ass inside as we both chuckled.

I heard him click the lock of the door as I turned around, “So how are we gonna d—”

Yellow had me pinned against the sink before I could finish my question, his hard body pressed against me as his lips and tongue danced against mine, pausing only to shuck his vest off with his undershirt, as I lost my tank top. We grinded our bodies together, feeling our hard tools poking into each other’s hips as we made quick work of liberating them from our shorts. Once we were both completely of our clothes, we resumed our intense make out, each of our hands ravenously feeling up the others, gripping firm mounds of muscle here, sliding fingers down cascading backs there…

“I should thank you properly for helping us both out,” Yellow panted.

He forced me down onto the toilet seat by my shoulders, then slid his hands down my torso, then gingerly tugged at my raging nubby boner. I could see that his was a throbbing, eager railroad spike as he knelt down in front of me and leaned in to swirl his tongue around my mushroom head.

“Fucking hell, Yellow, where you been all my life?” I panted with an exhilarated gasp, running my hands through his stiff dirty blonde hair, feeling his head bob up and down on me.

He released me with a sucking *pop* and grinned up at me, “I’m Doug, by the way. Douglas, but call me Doug.” He continued his greedy assault on my cock while I gasped a few more orgasmic breaths.

“C-Curtis. I’m Curtis,” we both laughed, having only just exchanged names while his mouth was around my dick. His deep laughter reverberated splendidly inside of his mouth against my leaking glans, stuffing his mouth with my pre, without a doubt.

Releasing me once more, he looked up at me. “Hey?”

“Yeah what’s up?”

“You can have your 50 pounds back, Curtis,” he grinned then quickly buried his face back into my crotch.

It happened just as quickly and just as intensely as it did the first time. I felt the same electrifying jolt of energy shoot through me, making me groan and arch my back as I felt waves of pleasure crash into me. Now fully nude, I could see the transformation affect both of us with delicious clarity. I watched my perspective grow taller and taller, seeing and feeling my legs, arms, and torso stretch back to their normal size. “Fuuuuck yeeeeaaah,” I couldn’t help but moan as I watched my arms, legs, thighs, pecs, feet, hands, abs, fucking everywhere, throb and swell with dull, increasing pressure, flexing everything as my size returned to me. Then, feeling my balls pulse and sag, I dropped my hands to his head, gripping fistfuls of his hair, as I animalistically bucked into his mouth, feeling my meat throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, deeper and deeper and deeper into Doug’s throat. He gripped my rounded, swelling ass as I gripped his head, finally feeling the dam burst as I flooded his guts with another massive serving of my seed, only causing him to gag just a few times, but still swallowing it all like a champ.

Both of us gasping with exhaustion, he stood up, his cock appearing to do some king of hiccuping motion as it shrank back. He was still shrinking in intermittent spurts, his arms deflating back to their respectable size, his pecs receding back to their typically sized mounds, his arms and legs dwindling back to their normality as he shook them out. His stature had diminished back to his short king height, and I could tell my the quickening of his cock’s hiccuping motions that the last part was coming. I reached out with both hands to tug his shrinking tool and massage his balls, hearing him whine/moan as his hips bucked with my motions. Very soon after, he erupted several copious volleys at me, splattering against my arms, my pecs, and my upper chest.

He collapsed onto me with exhaustion, his thick thighs and massive ass resting on top of my thighs, both of us panting in the orgasmic fog we’d created as he leaned his smaller self against my larger. His seed squished between our heaving, panting chests as he and I wrapped arms around each other to make out again.

Doug was unlike anyone I’d ever been with… Shit, by a long shot. And it’s crazy how much, though unspoken, he and I were both into this whole size play thing. Hell, I could spend way more time yo-yo’ing with him, seeing how big we could really make him. Creating a gym schedule with him so we could both add more mass to ourselves and go even crazier with this gift of his. Tricking assholes to loan him some of their size so he could turnaround and dump it all into me.

As we made out more in the bathroom of Francisco’s Diner, the whole room reeking of our sex and humid with our effort, I knew that our unlikely but fortuitous relationship was only just beginning.

[arthvalen]

[arthvalen]

Cain Marko and Lawson James | Pantheon's The Cumback

[arthvalen]

[arthvalen]

Hi! I have to tell you right away: I am a huge fan of yours. Every time I see one of your stories, I feel like I am there, in the middle of the scene, overwhelmed by the transformations.You have a rare gift: you manage to make every muscle fiber, every tuft of hair that pops out, something alive and vibrant. I wanted to compliment you.

Aw thanks man! I’m so glad that you like my stories. Here’s a little something to say thank you. I have this potion that will make you whoever you want to be. Oh wow you’re drinking it dumb already! Ok let’s go then! It does take time so you’ll probably notice the changes over the next few days.

Next morning: Yup looks like it’s warming fur you my dude. You grew up over night and your muscles thickened a bit. Definitely looking fitter and don’t worry this is just the beginning. Feel that itch? That’s your body hair starting to grow.

Days pass: Hey dude! I see that the potion is really helping you out! You look like you’re getting very big and muscular and your skin is getting much darker than used to be. Hehe yeah your voice is getting deeper now and you look older. Like mid 40s at least. Ooh did you feel that bro? You’re just just started falling out! Yeah you’re on a ton of roids so that’s to be expected. But don’t worry, I got you a new job as a trainer in a nice gym so you’ll be with other guys like you.

Next morning: wow bro! I love how much the potion helped you. Yeah I know it’s harder to think now and you speak fluent Arabic but c’mon it’s totally worth it right? Now you’re a huge Arab muscle daddy like you always wanted to be. I hope you enjoy your new life bro. Can’t wait to see you flexing on stage with the big boys.

(This was my first time doing a progression timeline so I hope it turned out ok. 😅)

[arthvalen]

[arthvalen]

Top 3341

“Welcome to the cave, bro,” said Top 3341, gesturing you into his home gym with one perfect, tattooed arm.

He had been so perfectly flirty on the apps, but now that you were in his presence, there was an artificial quality to his perfection. His smirk at the perfect angle as he flexed perfectly, his perfect torpedo cock without a hint of a curve visible in his tights as he posed for you, both your cocks growing as a sheen of sweat oiled his muscles. Still, you were gagging for his cock, and so grateful he’d messaged you, an average Black sub bottom without a single visible ab to compete with his eight.

He seduced you perfectly, guiding you through a flirtatious workout and slowly removing more of your clothes, worshipping your body attentively if a bit stiffly. “Good form, bro,” he told you as you bench pressed, his uncannily massive bulge filling your view as its sweaty musk filled your nostrils.

The scent was just as perfect as him, and soon your head was fuzzy and your limbs were shaky from the combination of arousal and heavy lifting. It took you a few minutes to realise that, instead of finishing your hip thrust set, you had your face buried in Top 3341’s tights, sucking his balls right through the sheer fabric.

“Think you’re ready for the main event, bro,” he said, picking you up easily and laying you on your back on a bench.

“Wh-what’s your name?” you slurred as he slid the tights down his massive striated legs and let that monster cock free.

“I told you bro,” the man lined his cock up with your ass, “I’m Top 3341. You’re about to be Top 3342.”

Your muscles were too spent to let you flinch away as the man speared you, but you felt no pain. Even your confusion at his absurd statement melted away as tingling pleasure seemed to emanate through your whole body from his cock.

“But I’m a bottom,” you moaned, writhing as the cock withdrew and then bottomed out again. Somehow, the word “bottom” felt strange in your mouth, like a foreign language. What did it even mean?

Every nerve in your body seemed to be in overdrive as Top 3341 began to piston in and out of your ass. Your vision whited out as your leg muscles spasmed, growing in fits and starts from your thighs down to your feet. The skin and hair lightened to perfectly match Top 3341’s torso as you wrapped your lengthened legs around him, pulling his perfect cock deeper inside you with your newfound strength.

“You sure you’re a bottom, bro?” the top asked, his voice just as relaxed and cocky as when he demonstrated a lift. He grabbed your little cock, which usually stayed soft when you bottomed. “This guy seems to be getting pretty excited.”

You screamed in pleasure as you felt your cock grow in his hand, rocketing to steel hardness and then continuing to pulse and grow. The dark foreskin retracted as the pale pink head outgrew it, and the shaft became a perfect arch, with a torpedo bulge in the middle just like Top 3341’s. As the top began to stroke it, you felt your ass become strangely numb despite his continued pounding. Instead, sparks of pleasure began to emanate from your perfect cock.

“Oh f-fuck bro,” you gasped, the “bro” slipping out unintentionally but feeling so right on your lips. “What are you doin’ to my big top cock?”

“You’re joinin’ the brotherhood, bro.” Top 3341 continued to rhythmically pound your ass, but the sensation felt distant and unimportant compared to the barest twitch of his hand around your cock. “What did you say you were again?”

“I’m a b-“ The word slipped out of your mind. It wasn’t an important word. It was a word that didn’t describe your perfection or the hive’s perfection, and that made it unimportant. You ran your hands, growing thick and callused, across your lightly tanned abs and over your thick pecs.

“Dom top, bro,” you purred, your ragged gasps smoothing out as you felt your neck expand and your voice dropped. You and Top 3341 stared into each other’s eyes, both breathing easily and smiling with eerie perfection, as your jawline, nose, and brows grew to match his.

Your hair bounced slightly from your brother’s fucking as it uncurled and styled itself into a perfect quiff. You grinned as your brain sorted itself into perfect mechanical order, just like every other drone in the Top hive. Your previous life, with all its morals and experiences, was drowned in endorphins and walled off as you made more efficient use of your processing power.

With a slight shudder, Top 3341’s cock stiffened even more and began to unload cum into your ass. You smiled deliriously as your designation locked in and saved, allowing you to shoot a massive, creamy load all over your perfect, glistening pecs. You were Top 3342, and you and your brother were ready for another workout before finding some more—what was the word? B-something?—to assimilate.

Thanks to @idesofrevolution for the inspo pic.

If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

[arthvalen]

Hi there, I wish more then anything that I could grow a muscle gut and become a huge Bara for my husband, but I am too lazy after working to go to the gym. Anything you can do to help me grow the big body muscles and pecs my husband wants me to have, while still maintaining a taut round belly without abs?

You’re shocked to walk in your front door and see a naked bara of a genie leaning against your fridge and reading Mentaiko manga with one hand as he stroked his big bara cock with the other. “You said bara, right?” he grunts, turning a page. “Meal prep’s in the fridge.”

After you rub a frantic load out in the bathroom, you discover that all the contents of your fridge have been replaced with various takeout containers and protein shakes. In fact, any food you hold or try to eat now turns into one of the meals or shakes in these containers. After a frantic phone call from your husband, you realise that he’s found himself in the same position at his work dinner.

It’s a bit hard for a few days, but before long you both discover the benefit: growth. Hair, muscle, and fat pack onto your bodies, the growth of years occurring in a matter of weeks. Your waistline expands at the same rate as your pecs, and your husband is in much the same position.

A few months on, you two look like off-season wrestlers, and you move, sweat, and lift to match. Sure, you drip sweat onto your husband’s face just a few minutes into sex, but you can just bury his face in your hairy armpit, pick his big bara body up off the bed, and keep fucking for hours. You can’t wait to see how the genie meal prep has you looking in a year or two.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

[arthvalen]

Ian wasn't sure where the mask came from. He came home from work and found it laying there on his kitchen counter. He thinks maybe his roommate brought it home with him. It was almost October so maybe his friend got this mask for a costume. He thought nothing of it as he got settled in. But when he went to start dinner he picked the mas up. Intending to move it somewhere safe and out of the way, but he ends up looking at the mask longer than he meant to.

The mask was simplistic. Just one that covered one’s face. It felt like it was made of cheap plastic , but the painted detail on it was well done. The facial hair along the lip and chin didn't have any streaks or chips. Nor did the painted on hair that cheap masks like this tended to have. He turns the mask over to look behind it. Frowning he swore he saw this blue iridescent like shimmer move along the back.

‘How strange.’ He thought.

Surely it must have been some trick of the light. Right? Ian brings the mask closer to his face to better inspect it. Unaware of the mistake he just made. To his surprise, the mask lunged from his hands like it had a mind of his own. Latching into his face in an iron grip. Ian shouts, staggering backwards and knocks into the wall.

He grips a hold of the mask and pulls, desperate to get it off. With it having been a cheap plastic it should have been easy. Yet with the mask suctioned into his face he felt it hardening. Shifting into this slippery leather-like material. The mask extends, inching itself to be longer to envelop more of Ian’s face.

“Get off! Get off!” He yells, pulling harder and harder.

The mask now being made of this strange leather, Ian is able to tug it so it stretches somewhat off his face. Only for his grip on it to slip and the mask snaps back over his face like a rubberband. The force knocked the small man into the wall with a thud. Ian groans and freezes up when he swore he heard a deep voice laughing at him. Panicked, he becomes more adamant in trying to remove the mask from his face.

However the mask stretches itself out more, until fully wrapping around Ian’s head. Ian frantically touches the back of his head as he feels the seam along it seal up. Trapping the mask on him.

The young man feels a cold sensation creep over him. His body aching that distracts him. Looking himself over to see his thin lean body frame steadily start to expand. He pulls his shirt up. Watching through the eye holes of the mask that he was gaining muscle. Things got stranger there, the muscle growth rapidly spread over Ian. His arms doubled in size, his legs throbbed while stretching outwards to push Ian’s height up significantly.

The young man was left in a daze, his torso ballooning outwards into this powerful broad wall of muscle. He licked his lips, feeling his tongue tickling along facial hair. This prompted Ian to stumble to the wall mirror in his apartment. Gazing at his reflection, Ian sees the mask looked like it wasn't just stuck around his head, but that it was fusing itself to him.

Instead of it looking like he was wearing an obvious cheap mask, Ian seemed like he was wearing one of those expensive hyper realistic ones. He makes a distressed noise from the back of his thickening throat. Hands resting on his head. Under his touch he feels the leathery feeling of the mask shift. Now starting to feel like soft human skin. His head tingles under the mask with it continuing to infuse itself to become Ian’s new face.

He felt helpless to do anything but stand there. Watching as the painted on hair grows out into this long dark brown mane of hair that reaches past Ian's shoulders. The peach fuzz of a mustache and goatee lengthen. Growing thicker as they connect and spread along Ian’s chiseled jawline. Giving the larger man a dense beard. It wasn't long before the mask had fully bonded itself to Ian. Leaving the former small man in a daze.

He stares with glazed over eyes, his hand reaching up and touching his new face. His old self and memories fleeting from his mind as Ian becomes a distant memory for the brute he has been turned into.

Duncan turns to the front door as it opens to see a guy walking in. The guy was half of Duncan's size and despite not knowing the guy. He feels this familiarity with him.

The smaller man sees Duncan and does a double take.

“W-Who the hell are you?” he stammers.

“Hey bro.” Duncan greets. Smiling widely when he sees the other man checking him out.

He can't help flexing his impressive sized bicep for his new admirer.

“Like what you see bro?” Duncan asks before he stalks towards the smaller man. Eager to now have a little fun.

[arthvalen]

Barbearcue

Trevor doubts his boyfriend can host a real barbecue for their friends. After ordering the grill, both men find themselves gaining more than experience as their summer shindig draws near.

Age Progression/Bear TF! Who knew grilling could be so transformative? Hope you enjoy this tale of boyfriends becoming the old married couple they were always to be in time! -Occam

Charlie always prided himself on his abilities as a host. Usually it was game nights or Sex and The City rewatches, y’know stuff his crew of queens and nerdy twinks are expected to do. As the days quickly soared past warm and into searing, their little ragtag bunch started tossing around ideas for a proper summer shindig. 

He wasn’t sure which among their bitchy friends suggested a barbecue, but as soon as it was floated everyone hopped on the idea. Charlie was sure they were trying to get a rise out of him or otherwise push his buttons, but the young man was already rising to the occasion. 

“What do you think babe? Gas or charcoal grill?”

His boyfriend Trevor sighs as Charlie settles into his lap, knowing it’s already far too late to convince Trev to reneg on this idea. Weeks into his campaign on convincing Charlie to do something more sensible, Trevor has thrown in the towel and hopped onboard. Pointing at a random grill he offers his clear grilling expertise, “I mean what’s the difference right? Just do that one?”

Following Trevor’s haphazard finger, Charlie has half a mind to suggest his boyfriend isn’t taking this seriously enough. But then he sees the grill, and he can bring himself to look away. Trev’s saying something but Charlie can’t quite make it out as the sound of sizzling meat fills his ears, vision clouded by imaginary smoke that he can almost smell. His face reddens from heat that isn’t there. It’s perfect.

Eventually he comes to as his boyfriend shakes his shoulder, “All good babe?” He slowly nods as Trev continues, “Good, good- I was just thinking, don’t you think someone with a pool should probably host? I mean, it’s hot right? What kinda-” he’s stunned to silence as Charlie grabs his jaw in more brusque a manner than he intended. 

Turning to him with his expression bordering on a scowl, he releases his grip and responds, “We’ve already decided this babe, we’re hosting. Besides, I already ordered the thing.” Even as he says it he realizes it’s not true- he hadn’t placed the order yet. Or he would’ve sworn he hadn’t? Before he even had a chance to double take his laptop pings with both an order confirmation and shipping date. 

By Friday the pair were to be brand new owners of their new Grill-Master. Charlie awaits some retort from his boyfriend, but Trevor’s still stuck on how out of character it was for Charlie to grab his face like that. He wasn’t bothered by it, not in the expected way at least.

Really it was way hotter than it had any right to be. Trevor smirks as he jokes silently to himself that maybe this whole mess’ll man his boyfriend up a bit. Playing coy and hiding just how suddenly needy he is, Trevor learn in close for kiss, “Well, In for a penny I guess-”

While he’s in for a pound, it’s clear the stress of this impending shindig is affecting Charlie far more than it should. As soon as the grill arrives, Charlie sets to setting it up like a bat out of hell. By the time Trevor prepares some espresso and half thinks-up a bit, he wanders to the backyard to find Charlie’s grease covered hands already lighting the thing up, “Hah Hah! Oh ye of little faith, those bitches are gonna have the best burgers of their lives!”

Trev feels tension leave his shoulders hearing Charlie celebrate. He does seem quite the natural at this whole grilling thing, he tosses around the idea of ordering some novelty apron for him as he sneaks up behind his boyfriend for a hug. Throwing his arms around Charlie as he messes with fobs on the Grill-Master, he notices that his arms don’t reach as far around his boyfriend’s waist as they should, as they always have.  

Before he can pay too much attention to the man’s slightly altered figure however, Charlie nuzzles into the cheek on his shoulder. Trevor recoils in shock as the face rubbing against his own scratches like sandpaper. Falling back a couple steps he balks as Charlie turns to reveal patchy stubble decorating his jaw, “Everything alright Trev?” 

For their whole time together he’s never known Charlie to sport peach fuzz let alone stubble that must’ve taken a few days to grow. Racking his mind as he tries to understand how a face he sees more than his has grown such dense stubble without his notice. On the note of his inattention, lost to distraction Trevor doesn’t notice as Charlie closes the distance between them.

Now pulling Trev into a hug, allowing him to feel the new weight on his midsection, firm muscle between a barely present new layer of fat. Arms more muscular than he knows them to be, thicker biceps that threw together a grill in record time yank him close as he leans down to whisper into Trevor’s ear, once more scratching his face with new prickly stubble, “So babe, whaddya want for dinner?”

Biting his lip, Trevor tries to maintain his focus, but hearing his lover’s performatively raspy voice leaves him with little recourse but to melt in his arms. Worries fade away as he retires to an outdoor sectional. He may as well be kicking his feet and giggling as he watches Charlie work masterfully at the grill.

When dinner is served he is shocked at just how good a job Charlie did. I mean he’s no chef but he thought most of grilling was prep work and he didn’t remember his boyfriend doing anything of the sort. Before he can offer compliments to the chef, he’s interrupted by Charlie slamming a filthy hand into the table and, after a barely muted burp, exclaiming “Man! That’s a damn good burger huh, hun?” 

The words are like a freight train to Trev’s psyche, Charlie simply wouldn’t act like that. His eyes flicker from the greasy burger in his hands to the ever so slightly strained shirt Charlie has on. Something’s not right, something’s different. Unfortunately, after taking a thoughtless bite of the burger, his senses are swayed from pursuit as the intense flavor dulls any sense of concern.

The next few days leading up to the party continue like this. Trevor notices something strange shifting in his lover, some new hair in the drain, a beard growing thicker, more muscle decorating his upper body. His voice and mindset edging coarser, gruffer. He tries to question how his lover has stopped shaving, how a few curls have begun to peek up from Charlie’s neckline, but every query is waved off.

Trevor sees smile lines etching deeper near Charlie’s eyes as he prepares the grill for another dinner. Since it arrived he’s used every chance he gets to use the grill, easily pointing to the party as an excuse to hone his culinary expertise. And each time the meals he produces are all the better, Charlie’s talents progress far more than should be possible, almost directly correlating with every other impossible change that Trev can barely bring himself to notice.

Finally the morning of their little summer barbecue arrives. Trevor awakens to find Charlie stretching at the edge of the bed, grunting and complaining that his back feels worse for wear. Blearily rubbing his eyes, Trevor gasps as he finally takes in just how much his lover has changed. Somehow built more than he ever has been despite spending less time at the gym in the leadup to today. All over his form new copses of hair have sprouted, a jungle covers his chest while forests surge across his thicker waist and up from his burlier mitts.

Trev only stirs as the man he can barely recognize calls out to him in a huskier voice, “Alright there hun? Look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Beneath the thick mustache, Trevor sees the same tilted smile his lover has always had. Seeing it now puts his racing heart at ease. It almost reminds him of their wedding, uh, day?

Turning to look at the ring on Charlie’s ring finger, Trevor almost faints out from shock. Charlie races to his side before he can start to fall, “Hey hey hey honey!? It’s just a party, you know you can take it easy yeah?” Searching his face to find some semblance of reality, Trevor’s mouth tries to point out that Charlie didn’t use to call him honey.

Feeling a cold ring wrap around his own finger he resigns himself to whatever is going on, he’ll just play along. This is a dream, as soon as it ends he’ll wake up. And he’ll absolutely refuse to let his husb- boyfriend buy a grill, “Ugh- yeah, yeah I’m good, enough. So what’s the move for getting ready then?” 

Lurching to his feet, he pays no mind as his own body has slowly begun to change. Slowly creeping up from wider, thicker soled feet his legs begin to coat with furry curls. Hidden underneath a blanket clutched to keep warm as he wanders to a pot of coffee in the kitchen, his own chest is patterned with a jungle of hair that already begins to rival Charlie’s.

He’s never really liked black coffee, but as his uh- husband pours two cups and immediately starts drinking he hasn’t the will to do anything but do the same. Scratching his jaw, Trev is uncomfortable with the sound of scratchy stubble as it creeps across his face. He’s always wanted a real beard. Refusing to acknowledge it any further, he turns to appreciate the profile of the steaming dark roast in his hand. 

Watching Trevor stare off into the middle distance, with every sip of his own cup a joe Charlie’s stubble thickens and fills into a proper beard. With each taste he lets loose some grunt of satisfaction that Trevor feels should irk him, but instead he feels only affection. Such is the way after so many years of marriage he supposes, for a second that is. Then he rolls his eyes at himself for playing along a little too well. This does nothing to stay the muscle beginning to creep its way onto his form as years and experience continue to pile on him.

“Well Trev, I was thinkin’ I’ll probably get started grilling so it’s ready when the boys get in. And you can go ‘head and make sure the pool’s good to go.”

Trevor almost does a spit take before quickly swallowing and landing on laughter instead. “The pool huh? Guess I’ll prep the valet as well” Rather than latching on or continuing what must be a bit, Charlie treats the statement as real, “Oh you hired a valet? I don’t think any of the boys are gonna be driving y’know?”

Hearing Charlie refer to their friends as the boys twice in such short order for some reason sets him on edge. “Why are you saying that, the boys- like they’re so much younger than us?” Charlie puffs up his cheeks and scratches the back of his head. As he stands there his hair and beard begin to prickle with some greying hairs as across his muscular form, his initially defined muscle almost begins to readjust with age.

Feeling he’s stepped in it somehow he tiptoes around the subject, “Well Trev, I guess- I’m certainly no spring chicken, and you’re not that much younger y’know?” His eye twitches, they were always the same age. But looking at the man in front of him, scouring his memories, he does not find what age that is. Whatever. He gets back to the actual sticking point, “Sure. Fine, we’re decrepit hags- why are you bringing up a pool we don’t have.”

Tilting his head in confusion, Charlie halts preparing his grilling accoutrement and instead opens the blinds to their backyard. Trevor forgets even the wedding ring on his finger as he sees their backyard transformed entirely, surrounded by a few tables and an even more professional grilling set up than he remembered, there is a pristine swimming pool. He can scarcely find his tongue in his mouth as he stares at the glistening wind tossed waves splashing. 

Not aware of the mental strain his husband is currently struggling through, Charlie simply laughs as he watches his lover sprint to the water and begin splashing it on his face. For half a second he recognizes it as a desperate attempt to wake oneself up, but such a thought is easy to make sense of. Trev’s just sleepy, yeah.

 With a grunt Charlie hoists up as much meat as he can handle and wanders into the backyard too, humming to himself as Trev continues with whatever he’s doing. Lighting his grill and setting out his tools, Charlie feels content as he begins his favorite thing in the world. Trev playfully calling him a grill dad echoes through his mind, but as he stands at the helm of the barbecue, he can’t help but agree.

A beer materializes in his hands as he begins his joyous work. Words of caution from a doctor echo through his head as he takes his first sip, awfully early start to the day but shittt- he’s grilling! He’s gonna take it easy, besides if he chills maybe Trev’ll follow in his footsteps.

Setting the first meats on the tray, he continues daydrinking with every laid dog and placed patty. And as he does so something other than age begins to creep onto Charlie’s form. His tanned torso begins to expand as a few extra pounds begin to hang over his waistband. Trev always did say he wanted a bigger boy. Charlie grins as he pats his stomach as his gut slowly creeps larger.

Abs he only had for a few days in real time are promptly covered and then buried as he becomes the prototypical grill dad. No one wants a thin chef of course. Smoke and steam rising from the grill act as fertilizer to his new form, sending even more hair cascading across his burgeoning belly as his hairline begins to creep upward, more strands disappearing with every gained pound and indulgent drink.

Seconds standing there, stomach in hand patting its amassing mass, turn to minutes as he debates whether to go for his blase ‘kiss the chef’ or ‘I cook bear naked’ apron just thinking of them sends the man into a laughing fit. His uproarious guffaws made even louder and deeper by his heavier form finally stir his husband from his pathetic mumblings. 

Still poolside, Trevor looks up with wild eyes to find that his husband has continued to change even in spite of his pitiable attempts to wake. Mouth drier than dry as he looks up to find the man of his dreams standing behind the grill, hair growing greyer as his torso expands into a perfect, hair covered beer gut. Of course, that’s nothing new, Chuck- er Charlie’s always been the man of his dreams.

He said as much in his wedding vows? He’s pretty sure? Perhaps thankfully, seeing the man at peace preparing for the festivities, Trevor can’t help but begin to give into the new lives apparently thrust upon them. Just as Chuck had hoped. Feeling something dance in his stomach, and something more concretely rise in his shorts, Trevor stares at his husband of oh so many years and smiles.

Memories of their extended time together lengthen and blur in Trevor’s mind as his form races to catch up to Chuck’s. Hair pushes out from every square inch available on his form. While staring at Chuck’s grabbable gut does more than ignite passion in himself, Trev has always taken care to spend more time on his physique as the years crept by. Age a prime concern for any once twink, as smile lines began to show on his bearded face he only took that as a sign to hit the gym harder.

He did always try not to let aging bother him too much, after all he always wanted to set a good example for the younger generation. And the years have been quite kind, for himself and for Chuck. As a few grey curls begin to join the garden of fur that coats him from head to toe, Trevor stands and wanders to his husband’s side, only groaning a bit as he does so- fair enough, it feels as if he’d sat there on concrete for decades.

Scratching his new beard on his husband’s shoulder, he whines in a voice rougher, “Ughh- no one ever said being so- distinguished would make you feel so tired all the time~”  Chuck offers that half-bit a snort, “Think that’s just about all they say about bein’ old hun.” 

Huffing to himself, Trevor asks if his husband needs any help around the grill. Chuck reminds him he’s lucky that he’s even being allowed this close to his perfectly ordered set-up, “Nah, you just go relax and make sure the pool’s all ready to go.” He could tell something was bothering Trev earlier, but looking into his husband’s eyes, even as he made his meek little appeal, it’s clear that some weight had been lifted from him.

As the hour of the party proper approaches, both men settle into their new selves. The perfect host finishes his preparation and grills more food than their guests would ever possibly eat, though he’s already prepared to-go containers for them all- these kids, never eating enough! Relaxing as commanded, Trevor’s mind being allowed peace finally adjusts to the new world, his hair growing grey as his husband’s hairline thins in rapidity. 

And then the time finally arrives. In the end the pair do a wonderful job making sure that every twink, cub, butch, and doll in attendance cools off and feels safe. Chuck always strives to make sure his guests feel at home, and never is there a person he welcomes into his home that would be anything short of ecstatic to return. His new grill centric strengths having done nothing to dull his perfect host’s instincts.

Watching his husband do as good a job as ever from the pool, Trev can’t help but join in on the hosting fun. While the headline is of course his husband’s truly Michelin star cooking, should they offer those to home chefs, Trevor similarly enthralls their guests in a way only a gay old queen can. The younger folk find themselves drifting over to the man in the pool, waiting on bated breath as stories drip like honey from Trevor’s mouth.

The gaps in his memory fill in as he finishes his transformation into the perfect partner for Chuck, and his husband does the same in turn. By the time their guests leave, the two men who began the week as twenty something twinks shift into their final form of furry queer elders. Decorated with wrinkles and enough fur to clog their pool drain. 

Trevor apologizes for pressing his husband so hard at the start of this little operation, for the life of him he can’t even recall why he’d ever discourage his husband from grilling! As in literally, it doesn’t make sense. But hey, all things change in time. The pair do a wonderful job doting on their guests and making sure their gayborhood block should be well fed for the next few days.

Finally when the guests leave do the husbands get a moment to enjoy the summer day themselves. No party pressing down on them or strange confusing episodes rising up. No, now the two halves of one whole simply get to enjoy the lives in which they find themselves. 

Trevor sips on his drink as he watches Chuck finally step away from his grill and float on the pool. Truly the best host- the best husband anyone could ask for. Trev’d clean the grill for him as he dozes but he’s sure he’d get chewed out for messing with such a prized possession. No, for now he’ll just repose, and wait for whatever life sees fit to bestow upon them next.

[arthvalen]

So, you think the cigar is necessary?

Yes, look good for the photo, believe me.

Uhm, okay

Yes, smile for the camera, very nice!

Yes! Show me your teeth! Fantastic!

Right, hold it in front of your face, perfect picture, great!

PERFECTION

[arthvalen]