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kinksquirrel · 2 days ago

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Repeating History

Derek smiled as he walked back to the teacher's lounge. He had just finished having a heart-to-heart with one of his students, Billy, who was again reported for bullying. The high school senior reminded him a lot of himself at that age- young, arrogant, and a total asshole. If it hadn't been for Derek's high school sweetheart helping him see there was more to him than that, who knows how he would've ended up. Derek could only hope that he could have a similar positive effect on Billy.

"Mr. Novak!" He turned to see an older woman with wild grey hair coming towards him, a concerned look on her wrinkled face.

"Hey there. Can I help you?" Derek smiled.

The woman stomped up to him, jabbing a finger against his chest. "I heard about what happened with my grandson today. Bullying, harassment, cruelty! And you… You allow this nonsense?" Her words dripped with anger and disappointment.

"I'm deeply sorry about what Tim has been going through. I've spoken with all of those involved." Derek started, "Ma'am, please let me reassure you, I'm working to address…"

Derek's words were cut off as the irate grandmother suddenly grabbed his hand, turning it over to examine his palm. Her eyes widened as she traced the lines intently.

"This palm… This fork here!" She exclaimed, pointing to a distinct V-shaped line intersecting his lifeline. "Major change, right here. A crossroads taken." Her gaze snapped up to meet his, ancient and knowing. "It seems you weren't always the saintly teacher you pretend to be now, hmm Mr. Novak?" A sardonic smile played at her lips. "Once a bully, always a bully they say. Arrogant! Narcissistic! You'd rather empathize with hooligans than those they torment!"

"Now hold on just a moment…"

"They think they come to you for help! But you can't help your true nature. You deceive them!"

In a fluid motion, the old woman pressed her thumb and forefinger together over the intersection point in Derek's palm. To his shock, he watched the lines shift and merge beneath her touch until the distinctive Y shape smoothed into a single line. A chill ran down his spine. Derek stumbled back, his mind reeling as he stared at his palm in disbelief. What the hell just happened? He looked up at the old woman, questions burning in his eyes, but she had already turned away, muttering darkly under her breath.

_____

Derek trudged into his apartment, his mind still spinning from the bizarre encounter with Tim's grandmother earlier. The place was a complete disaster - dirty laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer bottles and pizza boxes littering every surface. The air hung heavy with the musky scent of sweat and neglect. He wrinkled his nose, feeling strangely drawn to the pungent aroma despite himself.

"Jenny? Babe, you home?" He called out, expecting to hear his girlfriend's voice, "Babe is everything…"

But as the words left his mouth, a flicker of confusion passed through him. Why was he calling for Jenny? They hadn't been together in…in… Memories flashed through his mind - he asked her out, she brutally shot him down, they hadn't spoken since. He felt his stomach churn just at the thought.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. When did he start letting things go like this? Derek prided himself on being put together, both personally and professionally. But standing amidst the chaos of his once-neat living space, he barely recognized it, "I-I'll clean up tomorrow." He muttered, "I need some sleep."

______

Derek jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. Morning light filtered through unfamiliar curtains as he sat up, blinking in confusion. His eyes fell to his bare torso and he gasped - his chest hair, usually a thick patch, was nowhere to be seen. Running a hand over his jaw, he recoiled at the smoothness beneath his fingertips. Even his five o'clock shadow, a constant companion, had vanished overnight.

"Derek! Get up, you're gonna be late for school!" His mother's voice rang out, accompanied by the sound of her fist pounding on the door.

School? Derek leapt out of bed, his mind reeling. But wait… This wasn't his apartment. His eyes landed on posters of scantily clad models and sports cars plastered on the walls. A desk overflowing with textbooks and energy drink cans. It took a full minute for the realization to hit him - he was in his childhood bedroom.

Derek stumbled to the mirror, hardly recognizing the face staring back at him. Smooth skin, clear eyes, a youthful glow - he looked like he was 18 again, a high school senior. His hands shook as he gripped the sink, memories flooding back. The last thing he remembered clearly was confronting Billy about bullying Tim. Then the strange encounter with Tim's grandmother, her cryptic words, the sensation of his palm changing…

A loud bang on the door startled him, "Derek! I mean it, you'll miss first period!" His mom's voice held an edge of frustration.

"I'm up!" He called back, trying to keep his voice steady. Panic rising in his throat, he rifled through drawers, pulling on a t-shirt and jeans that felt too tight across his increasingly larger muscles, "I'll be down in a minute!"

______

Heart racing, Derek navigated the crowded hallways of the high school, memories of his teenage years washing over him. Lockers slamming, kids laughing and shouting greetings to each other. It all felt so vivid, so real. He spotted a familiar face among the sea of students - Martha, one of his colleague and good friend. Relief flooded through him and he made a beeline towards her.

"Martha, thank god," he started, lowering his voice, "Something really weird is happening to me. I woke up and-"

Martha cut him off with a sharp look, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him out of earshot of nearby students. "Derek, enough with the informalities. You know better than to call me by my first name."

Her tone was stern, almost parental. Derek blinked, taken aback.

Derek's jaw dropped open, a wave of confusion and humiliation washing over him. "What do you mean? Martha, it's me, Derek. Your friend, your colleague…"

Martha's expression softened slightly, but her posture remained rigid. "Derek, I don't know what game you're playing at, but it needs to stop. Your behavior lately has been completely unacceptable. Skipping classes, showing up disheveled, making inappropriate comments to the other students…" She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And for heaven's sake, when was the last time you showered or applied deodorant?"

A pungent odor seemed to emanate from Derek, a mix of stale sweat and Axe. Martha wrinkled her nose, stepping back slightly.

Derek lifted his arm, sniffing his armpit experimentally. An amused chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Y'know, that actually doesn't smell half bad…" The words left his mouth before he could censor himself. Horror dawned on his face as he realized what he'd said, "I'm fine, Ms. Johnson. Thanks for your concern."

Before turning to leave. But in his haste, he failed to watch where he was going. His shoulder collided with another student's chest, sending them both stumbling.

"For fucks sake! Watch it, loser!" Derek snarled, shoving the smaller boy roughly. It took a moment for recognition to set in. Timmy, "Tch, typical fuckin' loser. Always in the way." He sneered, looking Timmy up and down with contempt, "I…" He froze, "I… I'm so sorry, Timmy. That was…" He swallowed hard, fighting back tears, "I didn't mean it. Please forgive me."

Derek reached out a hand, but Timmy flinched away, eyeing him warily. Around them, other students began to take notice, whispers and stares piercing the sudden tension. And Derek fled. Left the building and ran down the street, only stopping when he caught a glimpse of himself in a car mirror.

Derek stood frozen, staring at his reflection in shock and revulsion. The person looking back at him was a stranger, yet achingly familiar. It was like gazing into a twisted mirror, seeing the worst version of himself magnified tenfold. Young, cocky, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Muscles rippling beneath his thin t-shirt as he flexed unconsciously. Blonde hair artfully tousled, blue eyes glinting with mischief and barely concealed arrogance. He looked like a caricature of himself at 18- all of his features emphasizing arrogance and cockiness.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Shouldn't you be at school, Mr. Novak?" Derek turned to see Timmy's grandmother, wearing a satisfied smirk. "Or perhaps you prefer to skip class these days, just like old times?"

Derek's blood ran cold, a chill running down his spine. "What did you do to me? Why am I like this?" He demanded, his voice cracking with desperation and fear.

The old woman threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, you naive little boy. I simply removed the catalyst that set you on a different path."

Derek shook his head vehemently, backing away from the old woman. "No, no, no. This isn't me anymore. I'm not that person!" He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. "I don't want to be this arrogant, selfish prick. I fuckin' hate this!" He grabbed his head, "I can feel it... fuck... Please..." Despite his words, he couldn't help but flex his bicep, admiring the way it popped. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The old woman's eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "Look at yourself, Derek. You're already slipping back into old habits. Enjoying the scent of your own musk, aren't you? Appreciating the way your body responds to your newfound strength."

"Shut the fuck up." He snapped, "You don't know shit about me or what I want."

He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled blonde hair, preening slightly. The urge to post a shirtless selfie was suddenly overwhelming. Maybe he'd hit the gym later, really show off his gains. Derek shook his head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts, but they kept creeping back in, tempting him with the promise of validation and admiration.

"You had a choice once upon a time." The old lady said, "But I've set you on a new path. You want to empathize with those hooligans? With those that bully others? You're no better than them."

Derek went to protest. To say something clever. But as he tried to think, he found... nothing. What was there to protest?

"You got a problem with me?" His eyes narrowed, "I don't need to listen to this shit. This is who I am." He cracked his knuckles, relishing the sound. "And if you ask me, I'm pretty fucking awesome like this."

"Yes, yes you are." She smiled, "Enjoy your life Derek."

And with that, she was gone. Leaving Derek to revel in his new life. He looked down at his muscular arms, flexing them instinctively. A slow grin spread across his face as he breathed in his own pungent scent, reveling in it.

"I fuckin' will." He chuckled.

_______

Grinning widely, Derek strode into his old childhood bedroom, leaving the door wide open. He stripped off his shirt without hesitation, tossing it aside carelessly. Staring at his muscular reflection in the full-length mirror, he flexed and posed shamelessly, admiring every inch of his sculpted physique. His hands roaming his abs. He gave his flexed bicep an appreciate squeeze.

"Not bad, bro. Not bad at all," he murmured approvingly, enjoying the musk emanating from his pits. Picking up his phone, he snapped a series of provocative selfies, "Now that's the shit."

This felt right. Like it was always meant to be. And Derek couldn't have been any happier.

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