Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Steve stared at Andy’s naked body, the warmth of the bathroom not able to counteract the shiver of attraction. The casual, practical reality of the situation was a brick wall. This was happening. He was expected to strip, too. The memory of his reflection—the dense hair, the alien musculature, the monstrous cock—slammed into him. Andy had seen him at the gym, a pale, slender, underdeveloped man struggling with lightweight dumbbells. He’d seen him in swim trunks. He knew what Steve used to be. But was this all real? The discrepancy now wasn't just improvement; it was science fiction.
“I, uh…” Steve stammered, his fingers stalling on the top button of his pajamas. “Andy, man, I look… different. Since the treatment. It’s weird.”
Andy shrugged, patiently waiting for Steve, ready to support him if required. “Dude, it’s me. I’ve seen every kind of body there is. The wrestling team locker room isn’t for the modest. Guys with guts, guys with scars, guys with dicks so small you need a magnifying glass.” He grinned, a flash of white in the steam. “Point is, I won’t care. We just need to get this over with and you back to bed.”
The permission, crude and casual, gave Steve the barest push. He turned his back, as if that hid anything, and fumbled with the buttons. He let the top fall open, then shucked the pants down, stepping out of them quickly. He kept his back to Andy, facing the tiled wall. The humid air kissed his strange new skin. He took a final, shallow breath and turned around, bracing for laughter, for a shocked exclamation, for anything but the silence that followed. Andy’s eyes, previously soft with sleepy affection, were now wide and fixed, but not with surprise. His brows were drawn together, his head tilted slightly, as if trying to solve a difficult equation written in the lines of Steve’s torso.
“What?” Steve asked, the word tight in his throat. He shifted his weight, the movement making his new, heavy cock sway. “What do you see?”
Andy didn’t answer. He was staring, his gaze traveling the dense forest of Steve’s chest hair, over the newly defined slabs of his stomach, and finally resting on the thick, semi-hard weight hanging between his legs. His expression wasn’t one of horror. It was one of profound, confused recognition.
“Andy,” Steve prompted again, a knot of anxiety twisting in his gut.
Andy blinked slowly, shaking his head as if clearing water from his ears. “It’s like…” he started, his voice distant. “Hmmm. It’s like I remember how you used to look. Pale and skinny, no muscles, not much of a dick, sorry man but it was true, no shade.” His eyes flicked back up to Steve’s face, then down his body again, lingering. “And I can see that is definitely not the case now. But also… like that’s normal? Like my brain wants to accept what it’s seeing as if it hadn’t changed? I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”
Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The tension didn’t leave, but it mutated into something else, a shared, bizarre reality. “It makes a weird kind of sense,” he said, thinking of his own mirrored shock. “What do you see?”
Andy’s focus sharpened, becoming more clinical. “Your shoulders are broader. Your chest is… it’s thick, man. Like a powerlifter’s. And the hair is everywhere. And your cock…” He trailed off, swallowing. “It’s a lot bigger. Seriously bigger.” He dragged his eyes away, a faint blush rising on his neck. “What do you see?”
Steve looked down at himself, then back at Andy, gratitude for this blunt rapport warming him. “I see a massive fucking change. Muscles like I’ve been working out for a decade. My cock is more than twice the size. I feel… energized. Focused. Horny as hell, honestly.” He gestured vaguely at the air between them. “And this smell seems to be part of it.”
A slow grin spread across Andy’s face, chasing away the confusion. “Shit. I should get that treatment too. I’d love a body more like that.” His eyes darted back down, just for a second. “And the cock thing would be cool. Not that I’m unhappy with my own, just… yours looks awesome.”
The casual compliment sent a jolt straight to Steve’s groin. He cleared his throat. “They want to see me early next week. I think I should call tomorrow, bring it forward. I want answers.”
“Good idea,” Andy nodded, his practical caregiver mode returning. “But for now, pee and shower. Then back to bed, just in case you crash.” He stepped forward, reaching out to take Steve’s elbow, his touch firm and steady.
Steve let himself be guided into the shower cubicle. The porcelain was cool under his feet. Andy stood close behind him, still naked, his body heat a palpable force against Steve’s back.
“Shouldn’t we turn the water on first?” Steve asked, his voice echoing slightly in the tile enclosure.
“In a sec,” Andy said, his voice close to Steve’s ear. “Might be worth checking out what your urine looks like first. See if there’s a change there, too.”
Steve shrugged. It was logical, in its own insane way. He aimed his cock towards the drain, the weight of it unfamiliar in his hand. Andy’s arms slid around his torso from behind, linking under his armpits, holding him securely. The full, intimate contact of their naked bodies—the solid warmth of Andy’s chest against his back, the soft press of Andy’s stomach and groin against his ass—made Steve’s already swelling erection pulse.
He let go.
The release wasn’t just a stream. It was a thick, viscid rope of fluid, utterly clear and gleaming in the bathroom light. It hit the drain with a soft, wet sound. A wave of lightheadedness washed over him, followed immediately by a surge of pure, animal lust so intense his knees buckled.
“Whoa, easy!” Andy grunted, tightening his grip as Steve sagged back against him. “You okay?”
Steve was more than okay. He was grinning, a low groan of pleasure rumbling in his chest. “Fuck, yes,” he breathed, as the bizarre stream continued. The scent that filled the enclosed space was overpowering, a concentrated, pheromonal musk that smelled of fertile earth and pure, desperate sex. It wasn’t urine. It was something else entirely.
Andy glanced around Steve’s hip, looking down. “Holy shit,” he exhaled, his voice strained.
Steve looked down. The fluid pooling in the drain wasn’t yellow. It was clear as silicone lubricant, though thinner and more lightweight. The smell was intoxicating, wrapping around his brain, short-circuiting higher thought.
Without conscious decision, driven by a deep, instinctual need, Steve dipped the fingers of his free hand into the stream. The fluid was warm and slick against his skin. He brought his coated fingers to his face, inhaling deeply. The scent was even stronger, richer, a primal trigger that made his cock jerk and leak a pearly string of actual pre-cum.
He groaned, a raw, hungry sound.
From behind him, Andy echoed the noise, a helpless, wanting sigh against Steve’s shoulder.
Lost, Steve pushed his slick fingers into his own mouth.
The taste exploded on his tongue—salty, musky, subtly sweet with an electric, life-giving tang. It was the essence of the scent, amplified a thousand times. Pleasure, pure and chemical, flooded his system. He moaned around his fingers, sucking them clean, his eyes rolling back in his head.
He was only vaguely aware of Andy’s hands moving, of his wrist being captured. Before he could process it, Andy had pulled Steve’s wet hand back, bringing it to his own mouth.
Andy’s tongue, hot and desperate, swiped over Steve’s palm, lapping up the remnants of the fluid. He made a guttural, choking sound of need, his lips sealing around Steve’s index finger, sucking it deep into his mouth. His tongue worked furiously, his eyes squeezed shut in fervent concentration, a man tasting water in a desert.
Steve's head had fallen back onto Andy's shoulder and he turned it to watch, mesmerized, as Andy serviced his hand, cleaning every trace of the potent fluid. Andy’s own cock, trapped between Steve’s ass cheeks, was a rigid, leaking spike of heat. Steve could feel the wet spot of pre-cum against his skin.
When Andy finally released his fingers, they were both panting. The air in the shower was thick with the smell and with something new: a charged, frantic energy.
Andy’s voice was a ragged whisper against Steve’s ear. “What… what is that?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question seeking an answer. It was a statement of awe.
Steve couldn’t speak. He could only act. He turned in Andy’s arms, their bodies sliding together, cocks brushing. Andy’s eyes were dark, dilated, stripped of all hesitation and doubt. He looked starved.
“I don’t know,” Steve rasped, his own need a physical ache in his balls and deep in his ass. He cupped Andy’s face, his thumb stroking over Andy’s damp bottom lip. “But you want it.”
It wasn’t a question.
Andy nodded, a quick, jerky movement. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Fuck, yeah, I do.”
That was all the permission Steve needed. The last of his resistance, the final ghost of morality, evaporated in the pheromone-thick air. He kissed Andy, not with tenderness, but with a consuming hunger. Their mouths crashed together, lips grasping, tongues immediately tangling. Steve could taste himself on Andy’s tongue, that addictive, musky-sweet flavour, and it drove him wild. Their kiss was a furious, sloppy clash of need, a frantic exploration that went beyond anything either had planned. Then something shifted deep within Steve’s glands, a sudden release he couldn’t control.
His mouth flooded with a rush of thin, slippery saliva, far more than normal. It pooled behind his teeth, threatening to spill. He tried to swallow, to hide this new strangeness, but Andy made a desperate, hungry sound against his lips. Andy’s tongue pushed deeper, actively drawing the fluid out, gulping it down as fast as Steve could produce it.
Steve stopped fighting it. He let his jaw go slack, allowing the constant, slick stream to flow from him into Andy’s waiting mouth. Andy swallowed greedily, his throat working, his hands clutching at Steve’s broad, hairy back. They were sandwiched together, their cocks pressed between their stomachs, leaking and sliding in the mix of sweat and pre-cum. Steve’s own hands roamed over the smooth, cushioned muscles of Andy’s shoulders and back, feeling the youthful strength underneath the layers of flesh.
A separate, more specific need began to crystallize in Steve’s hazy mind. He had to know. He had to show him. He gently pulled back, breaking the seal of their mouths. Andy chased his lips for a second, a soft, lost whine escaping him, his eyes glazed and distant.
“Andy,” Steve murmured, his voice rough. He cupped Andy’s face, stroking his thumbs over the high cheekbones. “Hey. Come back to me for a second.”
Andy blinked, his focus slowly returning. He swallowed the last of Steve’s saliva audibly. “Fuck. Sorry, Steve, I don’t know what… I just…”
“It’s okay,” Steve said, his own pulse hammering. “Something weird is happening, and we seem to be caught up in it. Are you okay?”
Andy frowned, thinking. A slow, incredible smile spread across his face. “I feel… amazing. That stuff, man. It’s like the best shot of espresso mixed with Viagra and the cleanest high. My whole body is buzzing.” He laughed, a bright, free sound. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Steve chuckled, relief mixing with a dark, possessive pride. “That does sound pretty amazing.” He kept his hands on Andy’s shoulders, feeling the vibrant energy humming under the skin. The casual intimacy of the moment, the shared, bizarre secret, opened a door.
“On the wrestling team,” Andy said, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Steve’s again, “it’s not a big deal. There’s always at least one guy who’ll help a bro out. Hand jobs, blow jobs, occasional fucks after a tough match. It saves the hassle with girls, all the talking and the games, if you just want to focus on school, on sport, on having fun.” He shrugged, a beautiful, unselfconscious movement. “It doesn’t feel gay, you know? We’re not boyfriends. We’re just… enjoying what our bodies can do.”
Steve absorbed this, surprised yet not. It made a blunt, practical sense. The admission stripped away another layer, making what was happening between them feel less like a catastrophic line being crossed and more like a natural, if intensely amplified, progression. “On that note,” Steve said, his voice dropping, “there’s one more thing I need you to check.”
“Anything,” Andy breathed, his eyes already darkening again.
“Earlier, before you came in… I found this thick, clear liquid. In my ass. I tasted it. It was… it’s part of this, I think. Could you… look? Tell me what you see?”
Andy didn’t hesitate. “Turn around. Brace on the tiles.”
Steve obeyed, turning to face the cool, white wall. He planted his palms flat against it, spreading his feet. The position left him utterly exposed, vulnerable. He heard Andy kneel behind him on the shower floor, the sound soft and certain. He felt Andy’s strong, warm hands on his buttocks, gripping the flesh, his thumbs pressing into the cleft.
Andy pulled his cheeks apart.
Steve heard a sharp intake of breath, a light gasp that caught in Andy’s throat. Then a low, reverent moan. “Fuck, Steve…”
Before Steve could ask what was wrong, he felt it. The hot, wet, insistent press of Andy’s tongue against his hole. Not a tentative lick, but a firm, flat stroke from his taint to the top of his crack. The jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure that shot up Steve’s spine was seismic. His knees nearly gave way. A ragged groan tore from his throat.
Andy didn’t pause. He dove in, his mouth sealing over Steve’s hole, his tongue spearing inside with a hungry desperation. The sensation was unbearable and perfect. Steve could feel the slick, cool tile against his forehead, the steam in the air, and the obscene, wet sounds of Andy eating his ass like a starved man. Andy’s nose was buried between his cheeks, his moans vibrating against Steve’s most intimate flesh. Each slurp, each probing thrust of Andy’s tongue, sent waves of electric pleasure radiating through Steve’s groin, making his huge cock ache and drip.
He’d never felt sexier, more desired, more powerful in his life. This beautiful young athlete was on his knees, worshipping him, lost in the taste of him.
After long, drowning moments, Steve reached back, his fingers tangling in Andy’s damp hair. He gently pulled him away. “Up,” he commanded, his voice thick. “Come here.”
Andy rose, his face gleaming with Steve’s slick. Steve turned and drew him close, capturing Andy’s mouth with his own. He licked across Andy’s lips, tasting his own essence, then plunged his tongue deep into Andy’s mouth, mimicking what Andy had just done to him. Andy whimpered, surrendering completely, his body melting against Steve’s.
It was Andy who finally pulled back, breathless. “Your ass,” he panted, his eyes shining with a kind of awe. “It’s… fuck, Steve, it’s beautiful. I’ve eaten ass before. This wasn’t like that.”
Steve waited, hypnotized by the raw honesty on Andy’s face.
“It’s like the perfect mix of everything,” Andy continued, his words tumbling out. “Pink and so inviting, man. It tasted like… I don’t know. Like nothing I’ve ever had. Clean, but not like soap. Sweet, but not like candy. There’s no ass smell, no shit taste at all. It’s just… perfect. Loose enough to get my tongue in there so deep, but tight, too. I could eat it all day.” He said it with a devastatingly earnest twinkle in his eye.
Moved by an instinct deeper than thought, Steve reached behind himself. His fingers found his own hole, slick and open from Andy’s attention. He gathered a thick, clear glob of the lubricating fluid onto his fingertips. He watched Andy’s face as he brought his hand around, sliding it down between Andy’s buttocks.
Andy tensed initially, a small jolt of surprise. “Wh—?”
Steve’s finger found Andy’s tight, hidden pucker. He smeared the slick fluid over it, circling the clenched ring of muscle.
Andy’s reaction was immediate and visceral. A full-body tremor wracked him, a shiver that started at his shoulders and shot down to his toes. A high, needy whine escaped his clenched teeth. His eyes rolled back slightly, his cock jumping against Steve’s thigh. “Oh, God,” he choked out. “What is that? It’s… it’s going right through me.”
Steve knew. The understanding was absolute, bypassing his brain and settling in his bones, in the urgent throb of his cock. Something deep inside him wanted this. He had to be inside him. He had to fuck Andy, to fill him, to feed whatever was happening to them both.
“Turn around,” Steve growled, his voice barely recognizable. “Brace against the wall.”
Andy understood. He turned with a fluid, wrestler’s grace, presenting himself, his broad back and round, muscular ass a breathtaking invitation. He placed his palms high on the tiles, widening his stance, offering himself up. Steve spat into his own hand, slicking his enormous, throbbing cock, though the pre-cum and the strange fluid leaking from him were more than enough.
He stepped close, the head of his cock nudging against Andy’s slippery entrance. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against Andy’s sweaty back, his mouth near Andy’s ear. “You want this?”
“Yes,” Andy hissed, pushing back against him. “Please, Steve. Fuck me. Do it.”
Steve applied steady, insistent pressure. Andy’s body resisted for a heart-stopping second, the tight ring of muscle gripping the broad crown. Then, looking down at his cock, Steve watched it begin to deflate and shrink, not losing his erection, but adapting to Andy's capacity. With this restructuring and with the help of Steve's anal slick, Steve’s cockhead breached him. Andy cried out, a sharp sound of stretch and surrender. Steve froze, buried just an inch deep, overwhelmed by the heat, the incredible tightness, feeling his cock start to produce large amounts of precum, easing the way in.
“More,” Andy begged, his voice ragged. “Give me all of it. I can take it.”
Steve obeyed. He pushed forward, a slow, relentless invasion. He watched, mesmerized, as his thick, veined shaft disappeared into Andy’s body, inch by impossible inch. Andy was panting, groaning with each fractional advance, his knuckles white against the tiles. Finally, Steve’s pelvis met the firm, rounded flesh of Andy’s ass. He was buried to the hilt, his balls pressed tight against Andy’s skin. They were joined. Fully.
“Fuck,” Steve breathed, the word a prayer. He was inside another man. The feeling was untenable, a blazing feedback loop of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. The tight, clutching heat surrounding his cock was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.
He began to move. A slow, deep withdrawal, then a driving thrust back in. Andy’s moan was long and low, vibrating through Steve’s chest. Steve set a rhythm, his hips snapping forward, each thrust punching a wet, slapping sound from their connected bodies. He gripped Andy’s hips, his fingers digging into the firm flesh, holding him in place as he pistoned into him.
“Is this… is this what you do?” Steve grunted, his mind fraying at the edges, consumed by sensation. “With the guys on the team?”
“Not like this,” Andy gasped, pushing back onto each thrust. “Never… never like this. It’s never felt… this full… oh, fuck, Steve!”
Steve began to kiss Andy's neck, his salivatory glands again releasing thick waves of fluid. Steve watched it pour over Andy's shoulder, glistening on his skin, before it ran down over his chest and down his back. Andy let one hand travel over the flow, smearing it as far as he could reach, Steve doing the same on Andy's back, somehow knowing that the touch of his fluids would only make this better.
Steve’s pace increased, becoming harder, more frantic. The sound was filthy, the squelch of his cock plunging into Andy’s well-lubricated hole, the slap of skin on skin. Andy was babbling, a stream of broken, profane praise. “Yes! God, yes! Your cock… it’s so fucking big… it’s splitting me open… don’t stop!”
Steve wasn’t going to stop. A pressure was building at the base of his spine, a tidal wave gathering force. His balls drew up tight, a deep, primal ache. He was going to cum. He was going to flood this boy, fill him up with whatever this new, monstrous load inside him had become. The thought tipped him over the edge.
“I’m gonna cum,” he roared, his thrusts becoming short, brutal, and uncontrolled. “Gonna fill you up!”
“Do it!” Andy screamed, his body clenching around Steve’s cock in rhythmic pulses. “Breed me! Pump it full!”
The orgasm tore through Steve like a detonation. It was a physical convulsion that locked his spine and blurred his vision. He not only felt his cock pulse, but a sensation up behind his balls seemed to release and travel along his cock and into Andy. As he felt the first violent jet of his release erupt deep inside Andy’s body, he felt like more than cum was passing through him. And it wasn’t a trickle. It was a geyser. Rope after hot, thick rope of semen pumped into Andy’s churning channel, each spurt accompanied by a guttural groan ripped from Steve’s chest. He kept fucking through it, grinding deep as he emptied himself, feeling Andy’s own climax shake through him, wet heat spurting against the tiles.
When it was over, Steve slumped forward, his weight pressing Andy into the wall, still buried inside him. They were both slick with sweat, steam, and other fluids. Their ragged breaths were the only sound in the tiled room. Steve could feel his own cum, a shocking, warm excess of it, already beginning to leak out around where they were joined. He knew, with a certainty that chilled and thrilled him, that this was only the beginning. The two men slowly collapsed onto the tiled floor and fell into unconsciousness.