Hunter: B.F.F. (musc mc ap)
by Aardvark
Hunter's back, and it's an epic tome. This is an idea I've wanted to do forever and ever, but just couldn't get it to work - hopefully you like it (and can get to the end!). It's a little different than you might expect...
“I love it when I feel her.”
Hunter lightly traced his fingers across the bare skin of Katie’s pregnant belly, feeling the effect of a swift kick from their child within her womb. They’d decided not to find out the sex. Hunter was convinced it was a girl, because every firstborn in Katie’s family was female. Katie, however, was almost sure it was a boy, partially because of the obvious prevalence of males in the Hardy family tree, partially because the kicks were so strong, and partially because she was sure she just knew. It was inside of her, she was its mother, and she knew it was a boy.
But they had two names picked out, regardless. They’d decided early on that the “H” names were tired out and that they’d do their own thing. Family names had been kicked around, as had their own. Hunter didn’t want his firstborn son to be named Hunter Junior, but was open to it should more than one boy pop up.
They finally settled on two names that had no connection to their families whatsoever – if he was a boy, he would be Burke Neil Hardy. A girl would be christened Diana Paige. They just liked them, what else could be said?
She was five months now. Once they found out that a baby was on the way, they’d immediately bought a spacious mansion, surrounded by several acres of land in all direction, to go along with the townhouse in the City. Both wanted their kids to grow up in a beautiful house with room to play, and New York City just felt cramped. Hunter was a franchise QB now, the face of the Jets, and they knew that he would be there for the duration of his career, barring injury. It had all clicked perfectly. Really settling wasn’t as freaky a notion as it once had been. And having all that space meant Sean, Wendy and all of Hunter’s brothers – who, with the Henry and the twins all over six-feet and the younger ones all filling out, were now getting to the point of taking up a lot more space than they once had – could visit and stay for a while.
After her final photo shoot, they had flown back to New York and Katie had started nesting in a huge mansion. Her Mom came and they had decorators helping out. Hunter would visit in between training and games and obligations, whenever possible, and they would have some tender sex and relax and soak up every moment they could. They couldn’t wait to be parents. Neil and Mel, also pregnant, visited with Lachlan. Whatever babies Mel and Katie had, they hoped they would be the same sex. Best friends from the start.
“Whoa, whoa, turn it up. Who is that?”
Hunter had noticed a man being interviewed on E, which Katie had been watching absentmindedly as they snuggled. The guy appeared to be 21 or so, and was strikingly handsome in an almost militaristic fashion – superhero-strong jaw, tight lips and chiseled-out cheekbones, with a dotting of chocolate stubble that connected up through the angles of his mandible to his neatly cut hair. He had an easygoing smile; big white teeth, like all celebrities do.
“Mason Leigh. Isn’t he a cutie-pie? He’s on that new TV show, Fireball Beach, the one about a military base in Beverly Hills.”
Hunter looked at Mason Leigh on the screen, and smirked. “Sounds like shit.”
“It is. Lots of military boys and bikini girls having sex, basically. But he’s getting a lot of attention for it, because he’s just damn fine and he’s a pretty good actor. He’s able to wring some fun out of the scripts, y’know, and I think he’ll get some good work out of it. Wouldn’t be surprised to see him playing token hot guys in rom-coms, or maybe he’s even better than that. Have to see.”
“Have you met him?”
Katie smiled. “I thought you’d be asking. Yes, actually, I have. He was at the Victoria’s Fashion Show last year. Remember?”
Hunter shook his head.
“Oh, well, he was. He really loves fashion, I think he has a thing for models – actually, his Mom was one. He’s pretty mesmerizing to talk to – not as much as you, of course.” She looked up from Hunter’s lap into his eyes. “But when you talk to him, he’s almost distractingly good-looking. And you know what’s hard to miss? His eyes. They’re bi-colored.”
“Holy shit.” It was a statement of realization, not interest, from Hunter, but Katie missed the meaning. “Yeah, bi-colored, one’s blue and one’s green and they’re both beautiful. His eyebrows are like Justin Timberlake’s, kinda straight lines, and the eyes just flash out from under there. He’s a nice kid but you know that he knows how hot he is.”
“They all do.” Hunter tickled Katie’s belly. “You do.”
“As do you, sir!” She laughed and pulled away from his teasing, but noticed that his gaze was still on Mason Leigh, talking animatedly about his show. He wore a tight white t-shirt with the show’s logo in camo across his well-developed chest, and dog tags dangled from his thick neck along with a small silver cross. He really was a gorgeous guy. Very, very good body, too.
“I’m responsible for him, y’know. Kinda indirectly, which is why it took me a second to recognize him.” Hunter muttered.
“What do you…” Katie looked back and heaved a sigh. “Oh. Of course you are. Shoulda known.”
Hunter Hardy was beginning his ascent. At 17 years old and a senior in high school, the gifted QB and developing stud was already getting a media blitz the likes of which had not been seen since LeBron James’ final year in high school. Hunter, however, was unprecedented, because he still had college waiting ahead. It would be four years before he was rocking the NFL.
He couldn’t have an agent, it wasn’t allowed, but he sure had “advisors,” who weren’t technically paid but, as friends of his father, had a lot of advice to give. His image was already being polished and perfected, so that by the time he was ready to get $75 million Gatorade contracts, he would be like the second coming of Jesus Christ.
This particular day, Sean had organized a football camp for Hunter to lead at an intercity school. Although the motives behind it were image-driven, Hunter really did enjoy doing stuff like this, and Sean knew that.
They always went well. Hunter loved kids and was such a heroic figure that even the toughest little kids practically ate out of his hand. Any rowdiness was quickly dealt with by Hunter himself, and every kid always had a good time. And most of the time, he didn’t even have to manipulate them. Well, not a lot, anyway.
The day had been a success. Slowly, the kids’ expression changed from annoyance of being there to expressions of respect and gratitude. Most came from broken homes, and finding a role model like Hunter could be potentially life changing.
But there were two kids who didn’t show any respect the whole day and spent most of the day goofing off by the chain-link fence. With a tip of his sunglasses, Hunter signaled his two assistants to collar the hooligans. As a game of touch football erupted between the rest of the (more willing) participants. Hunter sat down Indian-style on the grass and locked eyes with both of the kids being brought over to him.
The assistants went back to coach the game and left the two kids with Hunter. “Hey guys,” Hunter smiled congenially. “What’re your names?”
The older one – probably 13 – nudged the younger one, who looked around 11, and both stayed silent. Hunter slowly took his sunglasses off, without breaking eye contact, and furrowed his thick brow. “What was that about?”, he asked, gesturing with his finger between the two of them.
Silence.
“Gonna do it the hard way, huh?” Hunter whipped his head quickly toward the older boy and, lowering his voice, commanded: “Tell me your name.”
“Jayden,” he answered immediately, before clamping his mouth back shut and looking confused. The younger kid volunteered his name before being asked. “I’m Skyler.”
Hunter gave a big smile. “Hi Jayden and Skyler. Nice to meet you. Why aren’t you playing with the rest of the kids?”
Silence.
Hunter rolled his eyes in frustration. His mere seventeen years, on occasion, still was very obvious in his behavior. “I SAID-”
“We don’t care about them,” Skyler blurted out.
“Oh really?”
“They look fucking stupid and I think it’s dumb the way they all do whatever the fuck you say,” Jayden sneered. “I’m only four years younger than you, I ain’t scared of you. Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t make you in charge of me.”
“Big talk from a thirteen-year-old sixth-grader.”
“The fuck does that mean?” Jayden stepped forward and Hunter stood up, towering a good foot-and-a-half over the schoolyard bully.
Hunter put his sunglasses back on and looked down with contempt. “Do you wanna go home? Do you wanna leave? Then leave, kid. I’m not keeping you here.”
Skyler started laughing and Jayden shoved him to the ground. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, none of that,” Hunter said, stepping in between them. “You okay, Skyler?”
Skyler hadn’t even stopped laughing. “He can’t leave! He, like, lives here.”
Hunter spun back around and looked at Jayden. “What’s that mean?”
Jayden didn’t respond. He stared with hatred at both Skyler and Hunter. He didn’t like Skyler, Hunter could tell. He just liked controlling him. Skyler was Jayden’s little toadie, his little wingman.
Turning back to Skyler, Hunter posed the same question. “What do you mean, Skyler?”
“We both…we don’t really…”
“Shut the fuck up, Sky,” Jayden quivered.
“We both stay here until the last teacher leaves. And then we kind of wander around the neighborhood until the cops start walking around, and we go home. We live together but we’re not related, Jayden just didn’t have any place to go. But nobody’s really ever there. My grandma lives there, but she’s never home, she…”
“Sky, shut the FUCK up!” Jayden spat a stream of saliva toward his little bitch. Hunter heaved a sigh. “I’ve heard enough. I’m sorry, guys, you can play if you want, you can leave if you want. I have to go back to the game. It’s kind of my camp.”
“What the fuck ever,” Jayden glowered as he stalked back to the chain-link fence. Skyler begrudgingly followed. “I wouldn’t even come here if the cops didn’t make me.”
“Don’t let them bother you,” a teacher said as Hunter headed back to the playing kids, the kids who had put aside their home lives for a day to escape hatred and have some fun. “Those boys never do anything. Some kids are just a lost cause. It’s sad. You can usually get through to even the toughest ones, at least make them respect you. But a few just defy the odds and are really just determined to live the rough life.”
“It is sad,” Hunter said emptily as he watched the two kids by the fence. “Really sad.”
Skyler and Jayden trudged back to the old brick tenements where they lived. “God, my head fuckin’ hurts,” Jayden complained. “Do you think we have any Tylenol?”
“Maybe.”
“You never fuckin’ know anything.”
A quick search when they got home yielded no aspirin. Nevertheless, twenty minutes later, Jayden was popping two pills.
“Where’d you get those?”
Jayden chased the aspirin with water from a dirty glass. “Lifted ‘em on the corner.”
“Oh.” It kind of bothered Skyler when Jayden stole, but if he said anything, he’d get beat up. Besides, there was no money, and they still had needs like everyone else…so that made it okay. Right? “I’m gonna piss.”
Skyler was peeing when he heard a banging on the door. “Just a second.” The banging continued and he heard Jayden yelp – uncharacteriscally – and start scratching the door, like a dog. “Just a second! God! I-”
Skyler opened the door but was thrown backward by the force of Jayden bursting through it, shrieking like a speeding train. Skyler’s body crashed into the wall of the bathroom as Jayden stood in the doorway, eyes wild and mouth agape. The toilet collided with Skyler’s head, and he shook it for a second as the room came back into focus. But Jayden wasn’t quite in focus, something was wrong, he looked…different. The wily, wiry teen was shaking like a leaf and sweating buckets of sweat. His skin was pale green and as he stumbled to the bathroom counter to hold himself up, he looked like death warmed over.
“Jayden, are you okay? Do you need more Tylenol?”, Skyler asked, from a heap on the floor.
Jayden only moaned loudly, and it sounded like a cross between extreme pain and orgasmic pleasure. His fingers dug into his scalp as if he was trying to tear his hair out. “J-Jayden?”
“GRUUUH…” He pulled his fingers out of his hair and big chunks of the greasy blonde rat’s nest fell out. Jayden balled his hands into fist and pounded them into the counter. As two tears were squeezed out of his eyes, he pounded the counter again and again until the old tiles cracked and his knuckles bled, blood mixing into plaster.
And as he pounded, his spine began to elongate. Skyler could see it happening. It was slow at first, almost unnoticeable, but then it sped up more and more. Jayden only pounded and shrieked more. His torso stretched long and thin, and then his arms and legs began to grow too, their compact teenage length increasing exponentially, until Jayden’s beater and cargos were comically revealing on his lanky body. Jayden was crouched, slamming his body into the wall and then the counter and then back again, and Skyler could only watch, dumbstruck with horror.
“Jayden, wh-what just happened…” Jayden’s face was completely contorted, his eyes shut and his eyebrows raised high, mouth agape in a silent scream. He looked at his new limbs, long and scrawny, and moaned softly.
“FUCK NNnnnnnrggghhhfffuuuuuckkkk...”
Jayden’s arms, out in front of him, began to inflate. It started in his shoulders, deltoids and traps flaring out and growing. There was no sound, in fact, it was eerily silent; the powerful muscles of his shoulders rounding into perfect delts and getting larger, then spreading like a virus down into his biceps and triceps, which shaped themselves into beautiful instruments of strength. The tricep swooped up perfectly into the swollen arc of his bicep. “Jayden, wh-what’s happening to you?”
“I, I…” Jayden’s tongue smacked around his bone-dry mouth. His eyes were as big as saucers and when he looked at Skyler, Skyler saw something in Jayden that he’d never seen before: fear. “Help. Help me, p-please.”
Skyler only responded by pressing his back harder into the wall, with his knees pulled up to his chest. “I don’t think I can. Your arms…”
“…they’re hot! They’re…” He grimaced. “They’re…ahhh…” He started to flex and his arms appeared to get bigger, veins suddenly criss-crossing across the vast expanse of his carved muscles. He began to grow outward, once he was done going upward. Shoulders distended into broad square mounds, his lats flared outward like a cobra and the v-shape of his back tightened into a taut, muscular waist. The hands clawing at his burning flesh were slowly enlarging, from the fingertips to the wrist. The knuckles popped out as the bony fingers got thicker. The hair on his arms darkened right as the forearm thickened to match the well-muscled mass of his upper arms.
Skyler couldn’t keep track of all the miniscule changes happening to Jayden. Although his new arms were obvious, he was transforming from top to bottom. The hair on his body was getting more wiry, and darker, black. The hair on his head was no longer ratty and unkempt, but straight and shiny, and growing longer. His pale, cracked skin was getting darker by the second, as if he was stuck in an accelerated tanning bed. The moans and pleas sounded like some warped version of Jayden’s voice. Every time he opened his mouth to squeal, Skyler got a glimpse of two rows of perfect, white teeth. Jayden looked healthier. In fact, he seemed to radiate.
Jayden slid his growing body down the wall and slumped on the floor, his long legs and thick arms splayed to cover almost the entire expanse of tile. “Help me!” He reached a trembling hand out to Skyler, who recoiled in fear, barely able to recognize his friend.
Jayden rolled onto his back and heaved out husky breaths. His chest was already bigger, and growing still. He slipped a hand underneath the tearing tank top and felt the mounds enlarge, muscle balling into two beautiful pectorals, wide and round as a couple of dinner plates. Jayden impatiently tore the tank top off to reveal the small, curly black hairs popping out across the expanse of his well-developed chest. The light dusting of hair spread downward toward his muscled waist, covering a suddenly visible eight-pack, leaving a T-shaped patch on his torso that beautifully accentuated the perfect curves of his new musculature.
The happy trail that had grown from his belly button led down into a thick forest of black pubes that surrounded a burgeoning bulge in his short. Jayden’s head snapped back and, with one loud roar, he felt his dick grow. Skyler heard the vocal change in that scream, a sharp crack in the voice box followed by a deep yelp, right as Jayden’s puberty accelerated. The outline of his shaft got longer and longer, obscenely, and Jayden’s large hands balled into fists right as he blew a fully adult wad into his boxers. “FUUCK. FUUUUUCKKKK.”
He collapsed into Skyler’s lap. Skyler had nowhere to go, nowhere to scramble, so he continued to panic along with Jayden, or the person who had once been Jayden. The legs kicking outward quickly packed on the muscle, swelling to adult proportions, powerful thighs leading down into football-shaped calves and a large set of feet. Jayden felt his ass swoop outward into a powerful shelf as his hips tilted forward, his pelvis widening slightly to give him a broader stance and matching the wide breadth of his shoulders.
Skyler felt the adult hands – with adult strength to match – grasp onto his legs. Looking down, he saw Jayden’s face widen slightly, the acne marks giving way to tight, tanned skin. His eyes burrowed further into his head and farther apart as tears squeezed out of them. His eyebrows appeared to be filled in with Sharpie, the way they got dark and thick, the small slope of his forehead becoming a thick, masculine ledge. Two cheekbones jutted out toward the side of his face, and the skin around his neck appeared to pull downward as a sharply square jaw grew into view. He was getting older, a lot older, no longer a teenager. The youthful beauty of his classical face slowly delved into masculine hardness, a square, stubble-dotted jaw leading into a rose-bloom mouth and a sharp nose. His stubble filled in, his eyes began to crinkle, his forehead developed slight lines of worry. This was not some kid in his early 20s, it was a man well into his 30s. A handsome man who knew life well.
When he finally opened his eyes, Skyler saw how hazel they were, like supernovas blasting from his pupils. Jayden pulled his knees up toward his chest and tried to sit up, but slumped back down onto the floor. With his large hand, he flung the beautiful mass of shiny black hair back from his forehead and heard Skyler gasp from the first uninhibited view of his face.
Another moan, another cum. Jayden’s hands were shaking so badly that he could barely pull the uncomfortably torn short off, but he finally did, revealing soaking-wet boxer cotton pulled to translucency over his thick, cut thighs.
When Jayden finally pulled himself up, he seemed to fill the room. Skyler stared on in horrified wonder. The broad-shouldered man blocked the view of the doorway. His body was perfect, every muscle carved with sinewy care. His face was experienced, wise, firm, masculine. He looked like a cartoon forest ranger. He was so…beautiful.
“Jayden, y-you’re…hot.”
The man’s eyebrows furrowed. “Shut up, you sound like a faggot.” Skyler recoiled at the deep voice’s dangerous tone, but watched as the face lightened back up. Then, the man – Jayden – looked down at him. “Sky, I-I’m sorry, I…I just…I’m scared.” Two tears rolled down the cheekbones and mixed into the day’s whisker growth. A few wet locks of black hair laid over his forehead. Standing over Skyler, Skyler thought Jayden had become Superman.
They both heard a sharp crack, then another, then another. “What was that?” They heard what sounded like wood buckling, then another loud snap, then another. Soon, the air was filled with noises. “What’s going on?!”
The mirror blew outward, as if a hurricane was behind it, glass dangerously flying everywhere. Skyler didn’t know what hit him, but he suddenly couldn’t see anything, or hear much. He just smelled musk and sweat, and when he reached out, his hand touched a hard muscle that responded to the touch with a flex.
And then he realized, Jayden was on top of him. Jayden was protecting him. The man, this grown man, was crouched over Skyler and held Skyler’s head to his chest with his big hand, shielding Skyler from the dervish around them.
“Sky, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
He couldn’t believe Jayden was talking like that. Jayden never talked like that.
That was the last thing he remembered hearing before he blacked out.
“It’s okay. I have you. I’m here.”
“Rrrrrmph.” Skyler came to, swimming in comfort. He felt warm and cushioned; a stark contrast to the white-hot terror he had experienced moments before blacking out. “Jay, I...rrrmph.” Skyler groaned and wiped his eyes and heard a groggy groan next to him that caused him to instinctively dart out of the bed.
They’d both been asleep; Jayden – the new Jayden – still was, with his large, muscled body spread out across the king-size bed, and his handsome face still and peaceful. He wore pajama pants and a very tight tank that showcased his spectacular, Men’s Health-chest, and his left arm was laid out straight next to him, indicating that he had fallen asleep with his arm around Skyler.
Skyler looked down at the PJ pants he wore – a child’s version of Jayden’s – and a white thermal that kept him snug and warm. They were nice, quality garments, the nicest clothes he’d ever worn. It was dark in the bedroom, but his eyes darted around it nervously as he tried to absorb any information he could.
Everything looked so nice and expensive. Huge bed with silk sheets and a really, really nice comforter. The décor was contemporary, and matching: two lamps, a huge flat-screen TV, a big desk with a laptop on it that illuminated the dark room. His bare feet were cold against the clean hardwood floor. A door, slightly ajar, revealed a large walk-in closet. Where was he?
He walked into the closet and flipped on the light. It was brighter than he thought it would be and he shut the door so he wouldn’t wake Jay up. Skyler’s mouth dropped. The room was packed full of clothes of every possible nature. Rows of shoes lined the floor, from flip-flops to genuine leather dress shoes that he could see his reflection in. One side of the closet was all formalwear – suits from brands whose names he couldn’t pronounce, with dress shirts of every possible color and silk ties and leather belts. The other side had polos and t-shirts and khakis and jeans, really nice jeans. Everything in the closet looked like it had cost at least a hundred dollars.
They were in some rich guy’s house! All Skyler could think was that after he had blacked out, Jayden had somehow gotten him to a nice area of town and they’d broken into some rich guy’s house. There was no women’s clothing in sight – it was definitely a bachelor’s closet.
Skyler reached up to touch one of the beautiful suit jackets hanging – it was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. The expensive material shimmered as he ran his hand across it. The thread-count was extravagantly high. His hand looked so pale and white against the beautiful black of the-
“Skyler?”
He spun around and looked up at the adult Jayden, his broad shoulders and wide stance framed by the closet doorway. The man rubbed his eyes at the bright light of the closet. “When’d you get up?”
“I…I, uh…” Skyler didn’t know why, but he started crying again. He was just so scared, and he was still confused, and Jayden had dragged him into this stranger’s house, and he, he, he just... “Are you still Jayden?”
Jayden’s brow furrowed and he crouched down to Skyler’s level. Skyler saw the blazing hazel eyes stare right into his teary ones, and heard his friend’s new deep voice softly intone, “Yeah, it’s me. I promise.”
“You’re, you’re…different.”
Jayden slowly reached up and touched the side of Skyler’s round face. His fingers wrapped slightly around Skyler’s head, but Skyler didn’t recoil. Jayden’s eyes were kind, not cruel like they used to be. “I’m a little different, yeah.”
“What happened back there? What…happened to you?”
“I don’t know what happened to me. I just…” Jayden looked down at his muscles, proudly on display in the tight tank. He rubbed his stubble with the other hand and felt the sharp bone of his jawline with one finger. “…I just grew up. And the next thing I knew, the house was tearing itself apart. Do you remember that?”
“I think I blacked out. I remember you holding onto me.”
A flush of red filled in beneath Jayden’s cheeks. “I was just so concerned about you. That’s all I could think about, all of a sudden. I looked down on you and you were so small, so…helpless…” His eyes clouded as he stared at Skyler. “I never noticed how little you were before. I didn’t care about me. I only cared about you.”
Skyler swore he saw something happen to Jayden just then. His brow seemed to thicken slightly, his muscles grew slightly larger, almost unnoticeable. But something did happen.
Skyler cried more and Jayden reached up, without thinking, and cupped both his hands around the crying boy’s head. “J-Jayden, whose house are we in?”
“We’re in ours. These are my clothes, and this is my room.”
Skyler collapsed into a heap on the floor. “I knew it. I knew you’d say that. I don’t know what’s going onnnn…”
Jayden tilted Skyler’s head up. “Look at me. I don’t know what’s going on, either, okay? But I do know that I’m, I’ve…I’ve become someone who has to take care of you. Because you can’t take care of yourself. It’s Friday night, we have all weekend to figure it out before some school or some work is calling our house asking where we are.” They both laughed for a second before Jayden grew serious again. “Just know that I’m going to take care of you. I am. I promise. Now, go to bed, okay? Your bedroom’s down the hall. I found it while you were out the first time.” There was another slight pulse that Skyler noticed on Jayden, who smiled. “It’s a cool room, I checked it out. You’ll have the best sleep you’ve had in years.”
He stood, and Skyler noticed the tight tank was pulled slightly higher. It revealed a little crack of tanned skin on Jayden’s waist.
Jayden had gotten a little taller.
“Wake up.”
“Nrrgghthmpf.”
“Sky, wake up. I made breakfast.”
“You…what? You don’t cook.” But Skyler looked up to see Jayden’s broad, beautiful frame disappearing out of his door.
The Saturday morning light illuminated his bedroom and he could see it clearly for the first time. It was painted sky blue and covered with trophies, medals, pictures – the theme of every boy’s room, his accomplishments. He didn’t bother looking at them, he didn’t want to confuse himself, but in a way it excited him. It was when he caught a glimpse of himself that he panicked, slightly.
He’d changed too. “Ohhhhhh no.”
He stumbled back and stuck his hands in his hair. It was thick and shiny like Jayden’s now – chocolate brown, silky. It hung in locks around his head but when he swept it back like Jayden did, it stayed. His teeth were perfect, white and straight, like a rich kid’s. And his face didn’t seem as round – it too looked more like Jayden’s, a little longer, a little better structured: sharper cheeks, squarer chin, slightly wider jaw. He was one good-looking tween, and that was weird. Really, really weird.
“What’s happening,” he muttered out loud, as he gingerly tread down the hall of this gorgeous, unknown mansion he now inexplicably called home.
He felt like he was walking differently, as if his body had somehow reconfigured itself. Maybe he’d gotten taller, he reasoned, except his clothes still fit…then again, Jayden had a designer showcase for his wardrobe, so apparently there was something greater at work than simple biological changes. They were becoming different people, and that excited Skyler. They hadn’t really been such great guys in the past, he thought back…
“Well, look who decided to join me!,” Jay said good-naturely as Sky walked tentatively into the kitchen. “Mornin’.”
Sky sat down and looked at the Better Homes and Gardens-spread before him. White china plates with scrambled eggs, three strips of bacon and a piece of toast. Sterling silverware was neatly set on white linen napkins. The kitchen had a navy-blue and white theme, with hardwood floors and a big beautiful table. And, on the other end, Jay sat, wearing a white fluffy bathrobe (which, Sky noted, was monogrammed), clean-shaven and sipping coffee while reading the paper.
Sky sat, weirded out by the scene. Jay finally noticed and looked up. “Eat up, squirt. You’ll need the nutrients.”
Sky was almost relieved to hear Jay call him “squirt,” except he said it with such affection that it still was uncharacteristic. The younger male looked at his plate with suspicion. “Jay, why are you being so nice?”
Jay furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’re always mean to me and beating up on me, like, it’s what we do. And now we’re in this big gorgeous house and you’re, like, a model now and you’re waking me up and making me breakfast and patting my head and I just don’t know what the HELL is going on.”
“Hey, hey, language.” Jay reprimanded Sky and grimaced slightly, before the sensation passed. “I’m sorry you’re confused, bud. Uh, Sky. I’m sorry you’re confused, Sky. I am too. But I figure if we’ve been given these roles, by God or whomever, then we should maybe start acting like them. And to be honest, I’m finding it really easy.”
Sky had finally taken a bite of bacon when he froze. “Given these…roles?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean?”
Jay heaved a sigh. “You haven’t figured it out? Obviously, I’m your father.”
Sky exploded out of his seat, standing straight up. “That’s NOT true!”
Jay remained seated, his face calm. “Look at us.” He paused. “Look, Sky, just think about it. I’m not really your Dad, but I’m at least a father figure. You can’t deny it. Now, sit down and eat, okay? You’re freaking out already and it’s ten-thirty in the morning.” He flipped the paper back up and took another sip of coffee.
“Fine.” Sky slumped into his seat and pouted, but ate. He had to admit the breakfast was really good. He wasn’t even going to question why Jay was suddenly a good cook.
“You like it?” Jay set down his paper and stood, and Sky saw the big man had grown just a little more. His shoulders looked even slightly wider with his robe cinched tightly around his taut waist. He had been six-feet and buff when the whole tornado thing happened, and now he looked a good inch taller, and even more muscular, brawnier and healthier. Sky was distracted by how good looking Jay was. It didn’t make sense to him. This was what happened to hoodrats from the projects?
“Come upstairs when you’re done,” Jay said as he walked out, tousling Sky’s hair on the way. “We’ll explore the new house, ‘kay?”
The door was ajar when Sky got upstairs. Without saying a word, he peeked in.
Jay was wearing only a tight pair of white CK briefs, lost in his own world. He stared into a full-length mirror on his closet door and ran his hands over his big body, the first admission to Sky of how aware Jay really was. He pinched his own nipples, he cupped his hard dick, which was a lot bigger than the day before. God, I look good. He was so commanding. Perfect body, beautifully masculine face, confident…adult.
With a deep breath, he puffed his two big pecs up and out, and placed his hand across the deep crevice between them. The sensation was too much. Sky didn’t know it, but Jay came just then, a breathless moan as his briefs filled with cum, even as he tried to hold it back. Masturbating as a thirteen-year-old kid was a whole lot different from cumming as a grown man after touching your own perfect body. It was the best he had ever felt.
And then he noticed Sky’s face in the doorway. “WhhoOAAA, whoa, hey, hey bud. Sky. Not bud. Sky. I, uh, didn’t see you-how long were you standing there?”
He could feel cum dribbling down his leg, so he blasted into the closet without waiting for Sky’s answer. “Do you wanna look around the house?” Sky innocently followed Jay into the closet before being shooed out. “I gotta change, just a sec, kiddo!” Sheesh, kids.
Jay slammed the door and was greeted by another full-length mirror on the back of the door, displaying his beautiful reflection. “Shiiiiit.” He came again – all over the mirror.
Gonna have to reign in these emotions… Pants. Need pants. Need underwear…
No boxers in this house, just briefs and jocks. Oh, right, because he had such a big dick. He peeled off the wet briefs and looked down at the rockhard hot-dog between his legs, desperately trying to not cum once more. Man, he was gorgeous. He would have been in a much bigger hurry to grow up before, if he knew this dick was waiting for him at the other end of puberty.
“Jay? You getting dressed?”
“Mmm, just a sec, Sky! Just one red-hot second.” Silk briefs shimmied up his tones legs and snapped around his crescent-moon ass and excited package. As he got dressed, he thought about the way Sky called him ‘Jay.’ Never really liked being called Jay. Jayden was a little kid’s name, there was no way he’d get respect at a job with a name like that. But he really didn’t like Jay…come to think of it, he didn’t much care for ‘Skyler’ either. If he really DID have a son, he sure as hell wouldn’t name him Skyler. It sounded kind of, well, lower-class to him.
He slipped on a pair of perfectly fitting designer jeans and looked in the mirror. Damn. Long legs, muscular ass, tight abs popping out of the jean waist, an enticingly shaped bulge…he looked godly. He picked up the old briefs by their waist and dropped them into the laundry hamper, sparking a train of thought: Good thing we do laundry on Mondays, because we have to wash Sky’s soccer stuff, because he plays on Saturdays…and today is Saturday… “SHIT. Shit!”
The door blasted open. “Put your soccer stuff on! I forgot you have a game! What time’s your game today?”
“I, uh, I saw a schedule downstairs stuck to the fridge. And I saw shin guards in my closet! I’ll go get ready.” Sky bolted out of the room.
That was easier than I thought. He remembers, too. Jay grabbed a white Ralph Lauren Oxford, rolled the sleeves up and buttoned only the first three buttons. An expensive pair of aviators completed the exotic/casual look. One look in the mirror was enough to make him want to cum again. The tightness of the fabric over his eight abs, the round perfection of his pecs and the way the shirt pulled itself open to show them, the vasculature of his forearms with the sleeves rolled up over his big biceps. He looked like a model. Hell, maybe he was a model. “Ahhh…” A quick burn shot through his body as he pulled on a pair of shoes, but it quickly passed and he ran downstairs.
“You ready, pal?”
Sky was already in the kitchen, scoping out the schedule. “My team’s not until noon. We have time.”
“We can take the Cayenne.” Jay grabbed the keys and headed down to the garage. It was so easy being in this tall, muscled body – he knew where everything was, he could reach everything, and he was getting so used to it so fast that he was starting to not even think about it. He was the adult, and Sky was the kid. Physically, it was obvious, so mentally it had to be as well. He could just go on autopilot.
Sky stood at the top of the stairs, looking down into the three-car garage that held a Porsche Cayenne, a Jaguar XK and a ruby-red Mercedes. Jay turned back and looked up at the boy, once he didn’t hear steps behind him. “C’mon, kiddo.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not going anywhere with you, you don’t know how to drive.”
A chortle. “Of course I know how to drive.”
Sky shook his head and Jay rolled his eyes. “I knew how to cook your breakfast, didn’t I? I knew we had three cars and a motorcycle, didn’t I? I know you’re in a soccer league, and your team is the Silver Dragons, and I know where I’m taking you to play. It’s obvious that I’m pretty good at being an adult, and I know how to drive, okay? Now get down here, young man, before I drag you down here by your shin guards.”
Sky stood, dazed by the commanding outburst, as Jay advanced onto the first step and peered over the rims of his aviator sunglasses, cocking an eyebrow.
With a huff, Sky clomped down the stairs. “That’s more like it,” Jay smiled, swatting Sky’s butt as he walked past.
“Whoa, a motorcycle…BMW! Cool!” Sky looked up at Jay and smirked. “Do you know how to ride this?”
“No, that’s yours.”
“REALLY?!”
“Of course not,” Jay laughed. “You’re far, far, farrrrrr too young to ride one of those. Sorry, bud.”
Sky heaved a sigh and got into the passenger side of the Cayenne. “Wowww, this is nice.”
“Isn’t it though?” Jay smiled a Colgate smile and rubbed Sky’s mop of brown hair. “Your hair got darker, didn’t it? Look at me.” Sky turned and locked eyes with Jay, and both registered the changes in the other.
Sky had adopted many elements of Jay’s beautiful physicality. Jay’s hair was black, but Sky’s was lighter, a shimmering brown. They both had high cheekbones, although Jay, as a grown man, had a much more pronounced bone structure, while Sky’s face was just beginning to thin out. There was tension as they each stared into the other’s eyes, breathing heavily, registering that instead of malnourished street kids, they were now a gorgeous man and a beautiful boy.
And the slight changes in Jay’s appearance since the night before were really starting to add up. His jaw was perfectly defined, the two mandibles swooping out from a square chin and hooking into ninety-degree angles. His face had slight crags in all the right places, making him look mature but not at all old. He now had two neatly trimmed sideburns, like lightning bolts pointed into the carved-out cheeks. His shiny black hair now met at an enticing triangular peak at the top of his forehead and was swept back perfectly. His face, clean-shaven this morning, had just the smallest amount of tantalizing black shadow. He looked so comfortable in his skin, Sky thought. Jay had become the romance-novel coverboy, the supermodel superhero, the leading man. And Sky was the confident All-American boy, the easygoing tween who would try anything once and always be good at it, and look good doing it to boot.
“Did you always have that cleft in your chin?” Jay whispered, pressing his finger into the slight dimple on Sky’s chin. Sky reached up to touch the matching feature on Jay’s face. “Did you?”
“I don’t think so,” they said in unison.
There was a prolonged, awkward silence. Jay cleared his throat and backed out of the garage, with precision, and then took off down the road.
“You’re going to have to call me Dad, y’know.”
“That’s not happening.”
“We’re going to be in public, and obviously, I’m your Dad. You can’t just call me Jack in front of all the parents.”
Sky got a chill. “Jack?”
The tips of Jack’s lips curled into a sexy smirk. “Didn’t I tell you? I hate being called Jay, and Jayden’s a thirteen-year-old’s name. I’m telling you - just look at me.” He unconsciously stole a quick glance at the large bicep straining within his rolled-up shirt sleeve. “I’m a Jack. Yessir, Jack Leigh.”
Sky stared vacantly out the window. “Good name. Well, whatever you say, Dad.” And as soon as he said, it felt both extremely wrong and extremely comforting. When he turned back to look at Jack, he noticed the way Jack was driving: casually, one hand on the wheel, sunglasses to the road. His chest looked slightly larger than it had at the start, the edges of the shirt pushed out by the round middle muscles of his pecs. The button was now underneath their shelf-like overhang, instead of on top of it, and the Oxford opened up to show the bronze skin and muscle striation of a well-trained chest and broadly muscled shoulders.
Sky decided that he liked this man. This man, this Jack, was his hero. Jack took care of him. Jack was kind and articulate and beautiful, not like mean, ugly Jayden. Jayden had just grown up and made something of himself, Sky reasoned. It had just happened…faster than normal.
Jack’s free hand rested on the ledge in between the seats, and Sky gingerly slipped his much tinier hand into it. He saw Jack smile, and felt the adult’s hand grip back, and such a tiny gesture answered a multitude of questions.
When they finally arrived, Sky bounded out of the car and ran over to his team. Jack walked over and sat with the parents, who all watched their kids warm up and prepare for the game ahead. He could feel all eyes fix on him as he walked to the bleachers. The lust, the envy. Jack loved the feeling of his tall, muscled body and his handsome face, on view for everyone to drool over. The way people looked at him, though, it was as if he was famous. They all clearly knew who he was. Then again, the hunky single Dad was at all the soccer games, why wouldn’t they know him? When he sat, with his perfect posture and massively broad shoulders, he felt he could block out the sun. Good thing he had his aviators on…
“Jack, how are you, sweetie?” A leggy blonde sat down next to him and kissed his cheek. Before Jack even thought, he reciprocated the gesture, called the woman Shelby – which he hoped was right – and began conversation. His voice sounded a lot deeper than it had in the car, he noticed. Shelby asked him what she should be buying for the next season, he was shocked to hear what was pouring out of his mouth. “Bright colors are big, black is classic. But the brighter the better! Avoid beiges and browns. I’m not familiar with your views on fur, but it’s big this season…and don’t be afraid to show off your shape. You have a beautiful shape.”
The last sentence left his mouth and Jack wondered if he should have said it, but Shelby smiled with approval and Jack realized how gorgeous she was. A quick glance at her hand showed no wedding ring, and he smiled back. “Anything I shouldn’t be doing, Mr. Style? You must have grown up around this stuff, was your Dad the snappy dresser?”
“I've never met my Dad," Jack said. Shelby looked embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I..."
"No, no, it's okay! I grew up really poor. Desperately. Really, not to sound conceited, but I realized, I could make something of myself with my body and with my face. So I did. And by the way, your jeans are perfect,” he said, obviously taking in every inch of her frame, “…but Christian Audigier is out,” Jack said as he fingered her form-fitting Ed Hardy tee. She grabbed his hand and laughed, then stole a glance away. “Oh my, I think we’ve been caught. Mason’s looking at us.”
Jack gulped. “Mason?” He figured she meant her husband. He looked up with urgency, expecting to see a pissed off man, but he just saw Sky staring at him from the field. The boy broke a quick smile, and Jack smiled back, then Sky ran back to his coach for a final talk before the game began. And as he ran, Jack saw the name across the back of his jersey: “MASON,” all caps. Huh. Mason Leigh? Good name. Sounded like a name Jack would name his son.
“Marissa thinks Mason is the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen,” Shelby said of her daughter, smiling flirtatiously. “I’d agree. He looks just like his Daddy.”
Boy, she’s laying it on thick.
“Look at them out there,” Jack said, as he watched Marissa and Mason share a high-five before running onto the fields. “Like a little Posh and Becks, huh?”
Mason took position for offense. Jack got suddenly nervous. The whistle blew, the other team kicked off…and before Jack had time to blink, Mason had deftly taken the ball, zigzagged all the way down the field, and plowed a shot right into the back of the net.
“YEAHHH!” Jack exploded onto his feet. “That’s it, bud, yeah!” Mason ran past the sideline in preparation to take position again, and he stopped briefly to smile at Jack. And, once again, before they could think, Jack had shouted “Love you, son!” and Mason had replied “Love you too, Dad.”
They shared a knowing glance, then Mason ran off again.
Jack only half-heard Shelby behind him. “I love how studliness is genetic.”
Mason couldn’t stop talking about the game on the drive home. “That was so COOL, I love just going BAM BAM BAM down the field. They try to get to me, but they can’t, I’m so fast!”
“The best, bud.”
Mason grinned. “The very best.”
There was a long pause and Jack drew in a deep breath. “Mace, you know Marissa’s Mom?”
“Mrs. Thorne?”
“Yeah, Mrs. Thorne. I’m going out with her for coffee tonight. Just coffee, not really even a date at all,” he said nervously.
Mason shrugged. “Okay.”
“You’re okay with it?”
“Yeah, I’m okay with it. I like Marissa, and Mrs. Thorne’s pretty.”
You can say that again. “You alright by yourself for a couple of hours?”
“Duhhhh. If the alarm doesn’t keep me safe enough, I can outrun anything.” Mason flexed his little arm. “Or I’ll just sock ‘em.”
“I’d say run first, sock later, sport.” Jack tousled Mason’s hair.
Coffee turned into sex really fast. Mason was already asleep when Jack and Shelby stumbled and clawed their way into bed. Her manicured fingers unrolled the white t-shirt off of his sculpted body, then yanked down his designer jeans. Hers were off even faster – Jack was so strong, so masculine. She could smell his scent. The mood was primal, and he barely had the condom on before he took her, holding her up against the wall as he fucked her, in and out, in and out. They shoved their mouths together to dull the noise, but she was panting so hard, and he was so excited. Jack felt almost like he was doing this for the first time, but that didn’t make sense – he had a kid, right? Mason had to have come from somewhere.
And it hit him like a train. Memories of dates, of sex, of weddings, of childbirth, of death. He had to really concentrate to be able to stand. His knees began to buckle, and he suddenly was choking back tears, but he had to finish with Shelby. Shelby was so hot. With precision, he finally came, and she held her head against the wall and loved every minute of it.
“Daaaaad?” He heard a small voice from the bedroom across the hall. Shelby dismounted and walked over to the bed, and Jack began to remove the condom. “I gotta…”
“Of course! He’s your son. My God, I’d be horrified if you didn’t go in there.” Shelby smiled and handed Jack his jeans. “Mind if I turn on the TV?”
“Go for it. I’ll be back in once I see what Mason needs.”
Jack felt his way through the hall and walked into Mason’s room. He could see the whites of Mason’s eyes in the darkness. “What was going on in there?”
“I brought Mrs. Thorne home. We were, uh…we were doing grown-up things.”
“You were having sex.”
“Someone’s been talking with their buddies about the birds and the bees, huh?” Jack sat next to Mason and pulled the little boy’s head near his bare chest. Mason didn’t respond, but Jack practically felt his blush.
“Mace, I…when I was with Shelby, Mrs. Thorne I mean…I remembered it all. It all came rushing back, and now I remember…I remember…” Jack wiped a tear away and Mason curled up into a ball next to his Dad. “I remember holding you when you were a baby, and how little you were. Your momma loved you so much. I loved you so much - we wanted you so badly. And when she died, oh God, I was so messed up. She just looked at me and said she didn’t feel good, and then she fell, and there were doctors all around me and then, she was gone. She got to hold you once, and then she was gone. I didn’t know what to do, and I had you, I had this little baby I had to take care of, and I hope...” Jack trailed off and kissed Mason’s forehead. “I hope you’re proud of me. Because I am so proud of you. You’re the one piece of me on this Earth. I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad.” They sat on Mason’s bed and hugged for a long, long time, neither one noticing the final changes they took on. They both grew. Jack finally achieved his full height of six-three and filled out to the rock-solid coverboy body, 220 pounds without an ounce of fat. Mason got slightly taller, as well, with a body and face that puberty would obviously be kind to. He was Jack’s mini-me, but he was into sports and film, like his Mom, not fashion and newscasting like his Dad – who they now both knew was a former model and now fashion consultant for nearly every program on TV that needed one. Nobody had better taste than Jack Leigh, and nobody looked better in a suit, or jeans, or anything. He was tall and handsome and had developed his body into a masculine ideal once the modeling world, with its thin boys, was done with him, and he had moved onto fitness and fashion.
Jack held Mason’s face in his hands and looked into his son’s eyes. “Your Mom had the most gorgeous eyes in the world. They were bright blue but in the center they were this blazing emerald green, and they changed color in different lights, like mine do. In the dark, like over a romantic dinner, she had these gorgeous blues staring at you. But in the light, like when she was kicking my butt in soccer or hiking, she would turn around and laugh and her eyes would be so, so green. The one time she modeled, for a charity thing, I was there and I remember her eyes. And I told her she had beautiful ones.”
Mason smiled. “So, when you were about one,” Jack continued, “I had just finished feeding you and I held you in the crook of my arm, and I looked at our wedding picture and saw your Mom’s eyes staring at me, and I knew she was there in the room, and I looked down at you and you stared up at me with those big peepers of yours – one blue, one green.” Jack kissed Mason on each of his eyes. “And that’s your Mom, in all of her moods, in all of the places she went, when her eyes were blue and when they were green. But your eyes don’t have to decide like hers did. You always have the perfect balance of darkness and light.”
“She was really something, wasn’t she?”
“Just like you,” Jack smiled and brushed Mason’s hair out of his face. “Did you need anything? Water? NyQuil?” Jack whispered as he got one final clench out of the hug.
“No. I just wanted to say good night.”
“Good night, son.”
“’Night, Dad.”