m/m Draining my Friend (Six Chapters Total)

[GainsWorshipper]

Chapter Five

 

It was several days before I would get a chance to be alone with Cris again. Well, to be fair, I could have created a chance at any time by simply coming over unannounced. I had done so the night we went to the gym together and Cris hadn't been bothered by it - but I felt like invading his personal space to make myself feel better for having been shitty toward him was a bad move. To that end, I took to texting him asking if he wanted to work out together again. On the occasions that he responded, it was to give some excuse why he wasn't going that day. I considered driving by the gym to drop in on him there, but quickly dismissed the idea as being just as dickish as doing so at home would have been. I decided to just give him the time and space he needed, and attended my regular gym in the meantime. 

Luckily for me, Danny seemed to have stumbled to bed and passed out after our encounter. He hadn't noticed how much smaller he was after we had had sex, and hadn't really connected the dots that his loss of mass - which he noticed the next morning - was somehow connected to me. He texted me two days after we hooked up to let me know he wanted to play again soon, but would be busy at the gym "catching up on lost time". I felt a bit guilty for stealing some of his mass, but that guilt faded the Saturday morning after, when I decided to take my own measurements. 

The last time I had had measurements taken was for a suit I had worn to a friend's wedding over a year before. I had been nearly 290 pounds. My waist had been 44 inches. My biceps had been 16.  My neck was fairly solid at 18 inches. My chest had matched my waist at 44 inches, and my girth had reached its maximum at my midsection, which had been a humiliating 52 inches. It had been that experience that had started me on the long road to weight loss that ended so suddenly the night Cris and I had ditched a party early to get a drink. And, of course, I had measured in at 5' 9" since I was sixteen. 

I stepped off my scale at home having weighed in at 197 pounds. My neck was up an inch at 19. My chest had actually grown as well, to 45 inches, but instead of sagging sacks of fat, my chest was composed of hard, almost square pectorals. My biceps were a rock-hard 17 inches. My waist was back where it had been when I was 19 years old - 34 inches. As I looped the tape around my back and brought it to meet the end I held by my belly button, I felt a swoop as my heart leapt to my throat. It was 34 and a half inches. I measured my height last - while I had been sure I'd grown two inches after hooking up with Danny, I was only 5' 10" now - the extra inch had been, it seemed, temporary. Still, being an inch taller after over a decade with no change in my height was substantial. 

I spent a long time that day just admiring my hairy, muscled body in the mirror. Growing up, I had never liked the fact that I was so hairy. I had thought about doing something about the parts I wanted to see less hair on, but after gaining weight I had lost the drive to do so. Why did it matter if I felt better about having less hair on a body that I would never be proud of to begin with?

I did some googling and contacted a local parlor about getting waxed. I carried out the conversation while standing naked in front of a mirror, trying to see myself from all angles. I could manscape the areas I could see well enough not to need professional help there. In any case, I liked having a hairy chest, and with regular pubic trimming, I saw no need to get my lower body involved with wax. All that really bothered me was the hair on my shoulders and back. 

They had an opening that afternoon, so I took it. When I got back home, I stripped naked and admired myself in the mirror for another half hour or so, taking selfies all the while. I started to chub up while doing so, which prompted me to pull the ol' measuring tape back out. I had measured my cock fairly recently - in fact, I had last measured it when I had reached the goal of 40 pounds lost, when I hit 250. It had been slightly over six inches hard then, and I knew it had looked larger the more weight I lost. This was different, though - it looked over six inches now, and it wasn't even fully hard. I had always been a grower, not a show-er. I absently stroked my cock while peering at myself in the mirror, then had a better idea. I opened up Grindr. 

I put my shirt back on and took a new profile pic, cropping out the lower half so nobody could I wasn't wearing pants. After tugging the shirt back off, I scrolled through my messages until I found a point, several months old, where every message had been outgoing. They were some variation of "Hi, how's it going?" and had gone ignored. Most of these guys would probably feel too self-conscious to initiate a conversation with me now, especially in person. I starred a few profiles for further review, picking guys I had messaged apparently hoping for a miracle - these guys were still more muscular than I was now. Most of them looked like the kind of blandly handsome white guy that gets cast as a cheerleader's football-playing love interest on a sitcom. 

Within a few minutes, I got a little pop-up on my screen that my new profile picture had been approved. I switched to my favorites and started scrolling through them, reading profiles and inspecting pictures. I began absently stroking my cock again. Eventually I found exactly what I was looking for: one of the guys who had ignored me months ago and was online now. I copied my previous message, pasted it, and sent it to him again unedited. 

"Hey man, how's your day going so far?" The read receipt immediately marked it as "delivered". I backed out of the chat and started looking for another who might be online, but hadn't gotten far before the message icon at the bottom of the screen notified me that I had a new message. 

It wasn't the guy I had just messaged, but ironically, one of the others I had starred as someone who had ignored me before. He was a handsome, muscled white guy with light brown hair. "Hey stud, what you up to tonight?"

I replied, "Not much, you?"

His response came so fast, I thought he must have predicted my response and pre-typed his answer to it. "Same. Kinda horny, tbh"

"Heh, same" came my answer. Then I tapped away at the keyboard again. "What are you looking for tonight?"

The conversation carried on a bit as we discussed our favored sexual activities, followed by an exchange of pictures. His were of his impressive chest, arms, and back.  I sent a shirtless one with pants on, then a nude photo where I was slightly chubbed up. His response to that was a shocked-looking emoji followed by "how big is that thing?!" I dropped my hard cock on the bathroom counter and carefully lined up the measuring tape next to it. The end of the measuring tape was only a couple millimeters away from my pubis, and the tip of my head rested right at the line that denoted 8.5 inches, 21.5 centimeters. I chuckled that having a measuring tape with both Imperial and Metric in the picture would save someone the need to google a conversion, then snapped the photo and sent it to him. 

His response to that was a full-body photo of him, naked, from behind. His back muscles were more defined than mine - hell, they looked better than Danny's had. His glutes and thighs looked large and meaty.  After that, he sent his location. I tapped out a message - "gonna shower. Send address & I'll head out ASAP." By the time I got out of the shower, he had sent his address. I pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, then grabbed my wallet from the pants I'd worn to the waxing salon and made my way to his place. 

He answered his door naked, displaying his hard 6' 2" body to his neighbors. He was bigger than me in almost every way - except his cock, which looked pretty small and explained why he hadn't shown it to me in pictures. As soon as the door was closed behind me, he was on his knees, calling me "sir" and requesting permission to touch my body. At was novel at first, and a little empowering. He explored my body slowly, over my clothes. I began to feel a little impatient, but after a moment, he asked to be allowed to take my shirt off. His cock was leaking precum as he looked up at me from his kneeling position, begging to take my clothes off. I nodded and his worship began in earnest. 

The serum Freddie had given me several days before had yet to wear off - I hadn't cum inside anyone since Arturo. It wasn't a habit for me to do so, and I had only done it with Arturo because he'd been a recurring hookup that I knew to be on PrEP and trusted to be free of other STDs. With Cris, it had been more of an intoxicated heat-of-the-moment thing than an actual decision, but I also knew him to be on PrEP and disease-free - he was my closest friend, after all. As a result of the serum still being active, it wasn't long before I started feeling warmer than was natural in the areas where this sub's attention lingered. My arms, my chest, my abs. I turned around so he could feel my back muscles. The burn began there as well. 

In time, his hands wandered farther down, squeezing my glutes over my shorts before they began to wander to the front of my body. I turned back to face him and commanded him rather than waiting for him to ask for permission. "Take them off and suck my cock."

He did so enthusiastically, although without as much skill as I brought to sucking dick. Every once in a while I'd feel teeth - not biting, but the occasional unintended, light scrape. I'd force his head down on my length every time this happened, forcing him to pull entirely off of me to catch his breath after. The respite from his teeth felt nice, but his warm mouth descending back onto my cock felt even better until his teeth rejoined the fun. 

In time I pulled out and sat on his couch, telling him to follow and resume. I felt the hard muscles of his shoulders and upper back as he did so. I pulled him onto the couch, lying along it so that I could feel more of his body while he sucked me off. His technique got sloppier as his jaw grew more tired, forcing me to make him take more frequent air breaks. When his back looked less defined than mine had before coming over, I focused on making myself cum rather than enjoying the parts of him that were more muscled than I was. I tugged at my balls while he sucked me, which he took as a command to lick and suck my balls. It hadn't been my intent, but it meant his teeth were no longer prolonging my orgasm, so I stroked while he worshiped my balls. Within another minute or so, I let him know I was close to cumming. He quickly pulled both balls out of his mouth and began playing with them. 

"Feed me," he said, and closed his lips around my head while I continued stroking. And feed him, I did. I lied back onto the couch cushions, panting slightly while he sucked and squeezed my softening cock, draining every drop from me. I could feel the serum's effects stopping. The sub stopped sucking me when he was confident there was no more cum to milk out of me, then let out a silent, shuddering yawn. 

"Tired?" I asked. 

"Yeah," he said. "I don't know why, I barely did anything today."

"Probably pushed yourself hard during the week," I said. "Pass my clothes." He handed me my tank top and lifted one foot, then the other, to put my shorts on. I stood and he started sucking my cock again as I pulled my shorts up. I let him go at it for a bit. After about 15 seconds, he gave up on getting me hard again and pulled my shorts up to cover my cock. I was bulging visibly in them. The shorts and tank top were noticeably tighter, just as I could easily see that the sub was noticeably smaller. 

I told him "Gotta go," and we exchanged "see you around"s as I made my way to the door. I didn't look back, but was sure he watched me walk down to the street, where my car was parked. 

I went straight to the gym from there to build on my new gains, weathering stares from a variety of guys who all seemed to be somewhere between offended at how much of my body I was showing off, and impressed enough to want to see me show more. I hadn't brought a change of clothes, so I showered at home before eating a light dinner and going to bed early. 

Sunday, I measured myself again. Chest: 46 inches. Biceps: 17.5 inches. Neck: 19 inches. Waist and hips: 34 inches each. Cock: 8.5 inches. Height: 70.5 inches. 5' 10.5". I had taken another half an inch in height. 

I was bigger than I had ever meant to get. I loved how I looked, to be sure, but I also was a little afraid of getting too big. If I got too well-built, Cris might not find me as attractive as he had the night we worked out together. I knew he liked guys near his height, and I was about three inches taller than him now. Worse than being bigger than he would be attracted to was the possibility that I'd be too attractive to him, and he'd never feel comfortable approaching me. I made a decision: I was going to brew one batch of the serum. I had stolen the recipe from Freddie, so I had the method. I just needed the ingredients. 

They proved to be difficult. Many of the ingredients were obscure herbs I wouldn't find in a grocery store. I spent Sunday going through various herbal shops and occult stores, fending off clerks peddling crystals and thanking them for their help, or more rarely, for actually being able to sell me one of the ingredients. In time, there was only one ingredient missing. A seven-pointed moonflower. 

Again, Google was my friend here. I found online that the moonflower was native to South America but could be found in nature as far north as Florida or Mexico. I didn't live too far from the Mexican border, but a trip to Mexico would mean taking time off work, which I was loathe to do. I called a few florists to see if they might have any, but was informed that they weren't commonly used by florists - again, it was easy to find out why online. The flower was known to hallucinogenic properties. I wondered if people commonly "hallucinated" growing or shrinking while under its effects, unaware that it could cause true transformation if prepared correctly. 

I was about to give up on it when I found out that there was a massive field of flowers in a nearby town that included the moonflower as well as several related plants. I would have trouble finding what I needed after dark, so I made plans to go after work on Monday. 

Having found an ample supply of the flowers, my only struggle was finding one with seven points. After an hour of searching on Monday afternoon, all of the ones I had seen had five points. I was beginning to feel disheartened when I finally asked an employee of the flower field about it. "The flowers don't typically bloom until night falls," the elderly botanist answers. "These five-pointed ones you see are the immature ones. Most have six points when the flower is fully grown and begins to wilt, but some reach seven."

I took a break to get dinner and came back to look after the sun began sinking below the horizon, using my phone as a flashlight when it grew too dark to see otherwise. It took another hour before I found a single, highly delicate seven-pointed moonflower. I snipped it off with a pair of scissors meant for cutting loose string from clothing, then carried the flower to my car and drove cautiously home. Only when reviewing the recipe and beginning to steep the fresher herbs in gently simmering water did I notice that I had received a text message from Cris. 

"Hey, Mark. Sorry I've been distant lately. There's something I want to talk about. Can we meet up soon?" 

I began typing a response but kept deleting it. I wasn't sure I was reading his mood correctly, so I didn't know how enthusiastically to respond. I decided to do so after finishing the serum. 

The serum needed to reach a specific temperature after steeping for half an hour, so I waited until the color matched the description in the recipe and before turning up the heat and monitoring it with a laser thermometer. When it reached temperature, I began stirring in the dried herbs exactly as the recipe demanded: alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise stirs with each dry ingredient added. When that was complete, I removed it from heat. I gently raised the seven-pointed moonflower from the windowsill where I had left it to bloom fully in the light of the full moon outside, then lowered the flower so that it floated atop the serum. Lastly, I covered the saucepan and set a timer for one hour, just as the recipe said. I could already see the moonflower beginning to wilt in the heat, crumbling as it slowly sank into the serum. I decided to address Cris's text while waiting for the hour of steeping to conclude so that I could boil the serum until it was reduced by half, as the recipe called for, at which point I needed to strain the mixture and separate it into vials for use. 

Re-reading Cris's message, I tried to put myself in his shoes. He had apologized to me. I thought it was likely that he felt bad for avoiding me, and this was an indication that he didn't want to avoid me any longer. I responded, "I'm the one who owes you an apology. Want to grab dinner together tomorrow, talk then?" 

I thought he'd make me wait for an answer, but I got a smiling emoji and the words "Sure, see you tomorrow." within a few seconds. I sent back another happy emoji. 

The rest of the hour dragged by, but soon the serum had reached a slightly cloudy amber color, sort of like a weak tea with a hint of milk in it. I placed the saucepan back on the stove and turned the heat up to get it to boiling. It reached its boiling point surprisingly quickly. 

Steam almost rolled off the edge of the saucepan, sinking as it did so. In five minutes, the liquid had disappeared by half. I poured the mixture from the saucepan to a huge coffee mug through a small colander. The mixture still seemed a bit foggy as it began to cool. The herbs looked drained of life, caught in the mesh of the colander. Their power was in the serum now, so I put them aside. I had only intended to make a single serving of it. Here I had enough for four, at least. I poured a quarter of the moonflower serum into a tiny vial I had bought for this purpose and stoppered it. Then I poured the remainder into my toilet and flushed. The serum had the same smell that I remembered as the off-taste from Freddie's Old Fashioned. I had brewed it correctly. I had no more need of the recipe. I deleted it from my phone. 

I had to let the serum cool to room temperature before drinking it, so I stood the vial up on the shelf by my bed and looked at it in the dark as I tried to get to sleep, only impeded by my racing imagination as I thought of how dinner with Cris would go the next day. I eventually fell asleep with a smile on my face. 

[superkappa]

Great new chapter, now I'm curious to read what Cris has been up to! I feel like we're in for a suprise 

[Namelessbutneednames]

Well I'll stop reading from here but I should thank you for that story. Why I stop is because there is no idiot that could just delete a world changing recipe for no reason xD

[Gman]

I’ve really enjoyed this story. I’d be keen to read more,  but I kind of got the impression this was the end: he’s going to take the serum, and if he’s bigger than Chris, they’ll even out. No need for more serum because they’ve reached a balance.

[GainsWorshipper]

The Final Chapter

 

"I'm not stupid, Mark." Cris raised an eyebrow at me as he began cutting his steak. "You've lost, what, ninety pounds in six months?"

I was fidgeting with my food, pushing vegatables and steak around aimlessly like a guilty child. "Something like that."

"You were... big a few months ago. Now you're... well, a better kind of big. And most of that change came in the last month." He paused to put a chunk of steak in his mouth. As he chewed, my eyes darted from my plate to him. His progress had been going slower than mine, but he was filling out his shirt nicely. He had always had nice legs and an amazing ass. Now his biceps looked like they barely fit into the sleeves of his button-up. He had the top couple of buttons undone and had removed his tie. The skin visible there was as muscled and smooth as I remembered from the time I had seen him shirtless years before, the memory I had fantasized about for so long. His sleeves were unbuttoned at the wrist as well, and rolled up to about halfway up his forearm. There was some hair there, but the reason my eyes lingered was the corded muscle visible on the underside of each. 

His face had grown leaner since I had last seen him the week before. His eyes looked stormy grey as he stared me down. "Was it surgery?" he asked, his tone almost accusatory. 

"No," I answered, "No, I wouldn't do that. I mean, I'll admit there were times I thought about it. But I didn't actually do it."

Cris had a gleam in his eye for a moment. He believed me, I was sure. He was happy that I hadn't gotten surgery. "I don't know how it could be possible. If you had put on muscle and then lost fat, that would make sense. But you leaned down a lot in a too-short time and then started putting on muscle." He paused to chew again, then swallowed. "Drugs?"

"I'm not smoking crack," I answered, a little more exasperated. "You know me. I've had less alcohol in my life than you've had in the last year. Recreational drugs aren't my thing."

"Some kind of miracle prescription then?" He leaned in. "You didn't get this way just by working out. If this whole..." He pointed his fork at me and spun it in a circle while searching for the right word. "If this transformation had been stretched out over a year, I'd believe it. But this is, what, a month?"

I didn't want to tell him the truth. He would just want the serum himself, and I didn't have the recipe anymore. I remembered most of the ingredients - I wasn't likely to forget how difficult the moonflower had been to find - but I couldn't remember all the details of the preparation. And I was fine with that. But Cris wasn't an idiot, and he'd probably assume something worse than the truth. If he thought I was on hard drugs or getting plastic surgery, I couldn't let him continue to think that about me. 

Plus, deep down, I had always intended to tell him the truth. From the morning he had stumbled out of his room thinking the sex we'd had was a dream, I had always meant to tell him it hadn't been. I had just pictured telling him after using the last of the serum I had to share my new mass with him. 

"I'll tell you everything," I whispered, resigned. "But I don't want to do it here. Let's talk about it in private. At your place." 

He nodded at this, then lowered the fork he'd been pointing at me and started stabbing at his steak as though the cow had personally insulted him. I resumed eating, and was in the middle of chewing when Cris spoke again. 

"Freddie told me about the serum."

 I choked. Cris reached across the table and slapped my back until I coughed up the chunk of steak I had accidentally inhaled. I chewed it, swallowed, waited to see if he'd continue before I spoke. 

"He told me he gave it to you." Cris's eyes reflected light from one of the fixtures behind me for a brief second, giving them the look of a storm cloud that had just released a flash of lightning. I didn't want to wait for the thunder. 

"I took it from him, actually," I said quietly. "And I deleted the recipe." Cris's eyes widened in shock. "I deleted it from Freddie's phone to be spiteful. He was drugging guys with it so he could steal muscle with it. He tried to drug your drink the night we went to the bar, but the drink he put it in was actually mine."

Cris looked even more surprised. Freddie hadn't told him that. 

I continued. "You came out of your room the next morning saying something about a dream you had the night before," I reminded him. "It wasn't a dream. We had sex that night, and you lost some mass and I burned off a ton of fat." Cris brought a hand to cover his mouth. He slumped back against his chair. I gave him a moment, then continued. He straightened up. 

"I tried to figure out what caused it, thinking it was the massage. But it didn't work when I tried to massage you again, so I tried a different guy. It started working when the massage went from being pleasurable to sexual. I got bigger from that. Almost as big as you.

"It didn't work at all the next time I hooked up with someone, so I decided to try again to find out what caused it to happen in the first place. That search led me back to Freddie."

Cris nodded. "I went back to that bar trying to figure things out too, and Freddie tried to run for it when he saw me. Started babbling that he 'didn't have it' when I caught up to him. That little twink can't run to save his life. Told me my friend had already taken the serum. Described you pretty well."

"Well, he drugged me with it again that evening," I said. "Except I recognized how it felt, and I pieced together that he had slipped something into my drink. When he wanted to have sex, I figured that was part of what caused the transfer. And he wanted me to cum in him so badly, I figured that must be part of it too. So I let him start doing what he wanted while I pushed for more answers. I put two and two together and guessed that if I came inside him, the serum's effects would end." I paused so Cris could process everything I'd said. "Then he confirmed it. Since he had used to try to steal other guys' mass, I took it from him and deleted it from his phone. He should have had a backup."

Cris nodded at that. "Seriously. It's not like backing up your phone is difficult."

"Then I left, but I couldn't really drive, so I took an Uber. I forgot to change my drop-off location, so instead of home, it sent me to the only destination I'd used on the app. Your place." 

"That's when we went to the gym together?" Cris asked. 

"Yeah," I answered. "And you started to, uh, really enjoy watching me work out."

"How could you know?"

I chuckled at him. "You were getting off on it. The serum started working. I could feel it. So I got the hell away from you, only to stumble right into Danny in the shower. And I was so horny I went home with him and stole even more mass from him. I started feeling guilty about it then."

Cris tilted his head and crinkled his eyebrows together. "Why would you feel guilty?"

"When I stole your mass," I said, "you busted your ass in the gym to catch back up. You put in so much effort and then lost it all because of one drunken, passionate fuck. I took way more from Danny." 

Cris looked me up and down in the restaurant booth. "You're taller. I thought you had just stopped slouching or something. Freddie didn't say the serum can do that."

"After that I got the serum out of my system so I could think clearly. The only way to do that was to steal even more from another guy, and to cum inside him. I didn't want to fuck bareback with a stranger, so I just came in the guy's mouth. It's what Freddie wanted from me, so I figured it would do the trick."

"So it's out of your system now?" Cris asked, disappointed. 

"Yeah. And I deleted the recipe from my phone, too. Then I deleted my backups and made a new backup without it on my phone."

Disappointment turned to anger. "That's the dumbest fucking thing I ever heard. You didn't think of sharing that?" His voice got a little louder. Someone at a nearby table looked over at us, scandalized. I gestured for Cris to lower his voice. 

"It's dangerous. It was fucking with me. Making me too aggressive. Changing more than just my build. I think it was just in my system too long. But I knew you would want it, too, if you knew it existed. And I always meant to tell you the truth. Especially about... that night." 

"And you decided to make the decision for me, that I couldn't handle that?" 

I gave him an unhappy sort of smile. "Actually, I had made the decision and then thought about how you'd react. So I didn't want to make the decision for you. If you weren't gonna take the serum, I wanted that to be your choice. And if you chose it, well, I wanted you to be able to live with that choice without my guilt, too."

Cris paused. I knew him so well, I could tell he was thinking about how frustrated he was when he had found the body he had worked so hard to improve, inexplicably backsliding. How much more effort he put in, how much he had beaten himself up, on the path to correcting that backsliding. How that was at the root of his anger now. 

"But?" He finally asked. "You deleted the recipe anyways."

"Yeah... but there's no 'but'. I made a batch for you before I got rid of the recipe. I just didn't want either of us to spend the rest of our lives dependent on some voodoo serum to be happy with ourselves."

Cris waved down a passing waiter. "Can we get the check?" The waiter nodded and bustled off. When the waiter was out of earshot, Cris whispered, "You have it now?"

"It's in my car," I told him. "If you really want it, you can have it."

Cris looked introspective for a moment. "You felt bad for draining me."

"Well, yeah," I said. "You're my friend. You busted your ass to get into the shape you're in. You didn't deserve to have someone steal it from you. Much less me."

"You took mass from a bunch of other guys, too. Do you feel guilty about them?" He looked up at the approaching waiter, who brought two small trays with our bills on them. "Thanks." We passed them back with our cards and he took them away. 

"I do feel guilty, but I can't give everything back. Most of those guys are still bigger than me. I could only take." I drained the last of my drink. "But I can give back to you now."

Cris chuckled. "You're propositioning me?"

I shrugged. "Call it that if you want. You just said I should have shared. And if I'm willing to give some of this up..." I shrugged and flexed a little bit. My biceps stretched my sleeves nearly to their breaking point. This was one of the largest shirts I owned, from when I was pushing 300 pounds. It was ample around my midsection - I used shirt stays to keep it tucked in tight - but it was tight around my shoulders, chest, and arms. "...then you won't have to feel like you're stealing it. Because I'm giving it to you." 

I took a deep breath before I continued. "And I really care about you. I'm not just asking you for sex. I want more than that, if you..." I looked back up at Cris from my hands. I trailed off. Normally I could read his expression to figure out what he was thinking. I wasn't getting much from him now. 

I opened my mouth to speak again, but the waiter returned with our cards. We signed our receipts in silence and made our way out of the restaurant. When we were outside, I turned back to speak to Cris again, but he started speaking before I had a chance. 

"I care about you a lot too. Y'know, there have been times in the last few months where I thought... well, I thought we'd be a pretty good couple if I was attracted to you at all."

"Ouch," I said. "Don't spare my feelings, just be honest."

Cris chuckled. "I don't know if it's just because you changed or if I have. Hopefully both. But you've definitely become exactly the kind of guy I wished you were."

We stopped on either side of my car. I unlocked it; we got in. I opened the glove compartment and pulled out the vial containing the last of the serum. "I don't really want to rush things if you think we have a chance," I said mischievously, waving the bottle in front of his face. "We could wait a while to use this."

Cris leaned in and kissed me, fiercely. When we broke apart, I was breathless and he had the vial. "Or," he countered, "we can get a hell of a lot of use out of it tonight."

He uncorked the vial and tossed back the serum. I put on my seatbelt and started backing out of my parking spot when I felt part of my body, warm and growing. I looked down at it. Cris did too. 

"You're already excited, huh?" He reached over and gave my package a squeeze through my pants. "I didn't mean road head, Mark. I'll take care of that when you get me home."

While driving, I thought about everything that had happened since Freddie had first dosed me with the serum. I was glad he didn't have it anymore - preying on unsuspecting guys was wrong. Maybe, in the end, taking that power from him and giving it up myself was enough to absolve me for doing the same thing. But I had been pretty miserable before - depressed, unassertive, and living for the brief chance to touch a guy I was really into. The serum had turned my life around. It had made me happy. I was using the last of it to make Cris - to make us happy. Was that really something to feel guilty about?

And it wasn't like I had destroyed it forever - Freddie had bought the recipe from somewhere. The serum was still out there. I wouldn't need it anymore, and nor would Cris, but someone out there would, and they'd be able to find it as easily as Freddie had. 

I parked my car. Cris and I walked to his front door, tension building. He turned the key, then opened the door. I followed him through it, and closed it behind me. One door was closing, but as Cris walked down the hallway and led me to his bedroom door, it just felt like a new beginning. 

[Namelessbutneednames]

Sorry I thought it wasn't going to be like that. So it's good that he deleted it for his character development

[fratboy123]

Amazing story. I am curious how much mass he stole from him though! 

[GainsWorshipper]

6 hours ago, Namelessbutneednames said:

it's good that he deleted it for his character development

I'm glad that you came back to finish it! I wanted to show that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to have/use the serum, but that it made Mark feel like he could lose control. I also feel like he would still remember how to make it, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself he forgot it. 

2 hours ago, fratboy123 said:

Amazing story. I am curious how much mass he stole from him though! 

I would say that by the time they wear out the serum (and each other) Mark is at about a halfway stage between where he was before hooking up with Danny and after. Cris would be slightly shorter than Mark but would have a bulkier, more defined build. And they'd keep working out together... And working each other out, besides.