m/m To Protect and Serve - Chapter 5 (Posted 5/28/2020)

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Chapters 1-4 are posted in this thread.


Chapters 5 and moving forward will be posted in this thread, since updates to the title can't be made in the old thread.  Any reference to anyone in this (or subsequent) chapter who is an actual living person in no way is an endorsement of this work by them.  Rather it is a bit of hero worship or world building to make the story a touch more real.  Beginning particularly with Chapter 6, I will include trigger warnings, as some very real world violence  that police dealing with the drug trade see and experience will be referenced or depicted in some manner that could disturb some readers.   


Chapter 5 - Predator and Prey

5.5 months after the Accident


“As best as we can determine at this point, this is the approximate flow of the drug pipeline. As you can see, there are three major trunks that parallel military posts and freeways coming out of Southern California, roughly north paralleling the coast, northeast, and east.   And, thanks in no small part to our Albuquerque and Los Angeles informants, I have been able to put together that these major lines run to at least San Antonio on the eastern branch, from San Diego to Seattle on the coastal branch, and at least as far as Omaha along the main northeast line.  


“Of course, those lines will branch further to individual bases such as Hill in Utah.  But, I am almost certain the main lines run until they come into contact with the East Coast flow coming up from Florida.  But this is what we have been able to establish for certain at this point.”  


Even in the darkened, secured briefing room at Peterson Air Force Base, it was plain to see that John towered over the assembled military officers and civilian officials.  Behind him as he slowly paced at the front of the room, was a presentation he and Colonel Daugherty had put together for the briefing.  Over the previous hour, John had walked the six law enforcement officials  - the 4 USNORCOM heads of military police of each of the service branches, the FBI Special Agent-In-Charge for California, and the DEA Special Agent-In-Charge for the El Paso DEA Intelligence Center - sitting around the conference table through the particulars of the evidence developed in his undercover investigation.


The lights came up in the room.  “Thank you gentlemen for your attention.  Colonel Dougherty and I are happy to answer any questions you have.”


Captain Richard Lehman, USN, was the first to speak up, “First, thank you Detective Declann.  This is no small amount of work. Warren, we all knew we had issues with this.  But to this extent.  The sheer scale of this.  It seems unlikely that this could be hidden from us for so long.  Are we sure about this?”


“John?” Dougherty said, fielding the question to Declann.


“It is as sure as we can make it at this point, Captain.  The flow direction and the volume is a certainty.  As for particular individuals and suspects, I have only listed those that I have direct, first hand knowledge of.  However, how it has been kept under the radar, is known.  I am sure you all noticed that those I have been able to identify are attached to law enforcement in some capacity.  Military or civilian police, JAG - the leaders of the drug ring selected these men very carefully.  While all are not consumers of the product, they all serve a function.  In one way or another, they are in positions to pay off or bury any evidence that surfaces.  That is exactly what we saw in Boulder that got my work on this started.”


“Rick, I can substantiate some of this too. Four of the individuals Detective Declann came into contact with have popped up on our radar in the last couple of years.”  DEA SAC Ron Michaelson interjected.  


“The infuriating thing has been that as soon as some sniff of evidence develops, it just disappears.  We could never trace it, but this makes all the pieces fit.  As Detective Declann said, the total volume coming in we know from street level investigations on our own.  That has never been in question.  Just how it was moving without being seen was what stumped us.  But, even I must admit this kind of operation and coordination surprises me too.  However … it just brings together a lot of pieces.  Of course, we will have to fill in the blanks.  But it makes sense.”


FBI SAC Jeff Wilson spoke up in an exaggerated “smitten like a teenage girl” tone, “First, I have to say, Detective -- where in the hell have you been hiding all my life?”  All the men around the room laughed, but then cracked up that much harder when John’s reflexive blushing made an appearance. The laughter calming, Wilson continued, “Seriously, I have about a hundred investigations I would love to let you loose on.  This is some of the best investigation and documentation on a case of this scope I have ever seen.  And for just one man to do it … when the time comes, I think we will get a shit ton of guilty pleas.  


“But, my biggest concern is why I gather it is only us here instead of a full task force.  Operational security.”


“Jeff is right,” Marine Lieutenant Colonel Jack Johnson replied.  “I have no idea how we are going to investigate this and keep it hidden.  If they are as connected into our ranks as it appears, I do not know who in my own office I can trust.  If only they looked like you Detective Declann - no offence intended - we could get everything coordinated and executed in a week.  But, these men and women are not exactly screaming ‘Please test me for steroids’ like the obvious inclination to test you would be.”


“No offense taken Colonel.” John replied as he took his seat at the table.  Even seated and in a suit, John looked like he was bigger than any two of the men in the room put together.  


“And that is the largest single issue that is in front of us.  The more I keep pressing, the more even I am going to give this away.  Too many questions from the same source.”  


Dougherty spoke up, “And that is what we need to determine now.  Because at best we have 2 months for planning, investigating, and execution of an operation.  We can hold up orders for transfers and such maybe that long without attracting attention.  And God help us, if any of the people involved get scattered around the planet.  We will not be able to touch them outside of US territory before they collapse this thing, and we will be left with nothing.  We can’t risk taking more than 60 days maximum.”


Nods and verbal affirmations sounded at once around the room.  “Well, let’s get to brass tacks.  With your OK Jeff, Ron, the easiest decision is to put John in charge of the civilian end of things in Colorado and Wyoming.”


Wilson chucked, “Wish every man we need to bring is as easy and obvious as you Detective.” 


“As long as I can hire you away later…” Michaelson assented.


“Trust me, it won’t work.  I’ve already tried.”  Dougherty quipped.


“Can’t blame a man …”  Michaelson said with a half smile.


“And Warren, I think I can speak for Bill,” said Johnson, “when I say we would both like to meet with you Detective and get our ducks in a row for Fort Carson and the marines we have stationed here who could be involved.”  


Colonel William James, USA, nodded his accent. 


John looked at both men.  “Of course, gentlemen, I am happy to help anyway I can, but how can I explain my involvement on posts that aren’t Air Force?”


James looked at Johnson and smiled as he half questioned, “The show?”


Johnson laughed, “Jesus Christ, is that not too fucking perfect?  Too bad for the others competing that the fix is in. ‘Cause I don’t see any way in hell Detective Declann isn’t going to win the whole thing.  Well, what about it John, fancy a trip to Norfolk later in the summer?”


Declann looked at Johnson confused, “Sir?”


Johnson just smiled more broadly, thinking of more than a few asses he would be happy to see John paste at this thing. “The Southern Colorado Bodybuilding Show.  It is in a month, and it is also the mountain states area qualifier for the Armed Forces Nationals later this year in Norfolk.  It is open to all active duty personnel and DOD civilian employees.  As long as Warren keeps you on the payroll, that means you.”


Dougherty laughed, “Well heaven help anyone else on that stage.  None of you have seen him in short sleeves even.”


Wilson said, “Don’t think there is much of a need.  He could be in that suit and still win.”


Declann spoke up, “But, Colonel, won’t me doing something like that compromise the investigation.  I would have to use my real name and all.”


Dougherty looked at his counterparts.  “JAG?”


The other five men nodded at once.  Dougherty continued, “John, we have a provision just for this.  If we are conducting an investigation that requires one of our men to act undercover but in a public capacity or performance of some kind, we have a JAG hearing officer sign off on allowing that agent, in this case you, to act in that public performance and everything associated with it under an assumed name.  Functions basically as a sting operation and will cover anything you may do or evidence you develop from an entrapment accusation.  I can have our JAG sign off as soon as the meeting is concluded.”


John smiled, “It will be my first bodybuilding show you know…”


“No way,”  Lehman replied in shock.  “You?  Your first?”


“Yes, Sir.  While I have worked out for most of my life, bodybuilding never really interested me until I came onto this investigation.”  John replied, telling the absolute truth no one could believe.


“Well then it will be nice to have a hand in discovering new talent.” Dougherty said.  “OK, let’s get on to the hard stuff.”




After another 2 hours of discussions, the preliminary plans had been made.  Each state along the pipeline would have one and only one military investigator and one civilian agency investigator.  John’s military pairing was one of Dougherty’s men at Peterson he had already met.  So, that was not a worry to John’s competing in the show to develop arrests for the rest of his assigned areas.


As the meeting broke up, John knew the questions would begin … and they did.  First was Lehman.  “Come on, son, fess up.  You really have never done any competition bodybuilding in your life.  Ever?  You look like the definition of the brick shithouse?”  


John couldn’t help but laugh.  “It’s the truth.  My interests are or were limited to martial arts until this.  But, I have to admit, the idea of doing more formal bodybuilding has been in my head since I started this investigation.  It was amazing just how many coaches, who I learned were of some repute in the sport, were tripping over themselves to get me to sign on with them.”


“Forgive me for speaking my mind, son, but they would have been fools not to.”  John laughed again.  “What did I say that has you so tickled?  Kind of odd to hear a man of your size giggle.”


“I’m sorry, Captain.  Just what you called me.  How old do you think I am?”  John asked, his confident smirk first starting to show itself for the first time now that the meeting was done.


“Late 20’s if I had to guess.”  Lehman said, to which John openly grinned. 


“OK.  How old?  30?”


“I’ll be 41 in the fall, Captain.”  John said.


“NOW, I am calling bullshit,” Lehman said to everyone in the room. “This man claims to be 40 years old.”  The entire room save John and Dougherty appeared to be in shocked disbelief.  “Warren, how old is Detective Declann?”


Dougherty, however,  never looked up from his briefcase.  “John, just show ‘um.  They’ll never believe it otherwise.”  John pulled out his wallet and took out the driver’s license he had just renewed when he had gotten home. He handed it to Lehman.


“Well, I’ll be fucked …” Lehman said now truly stunned.  “You really are 40?”


“Yes Sir.” John replied and both he and Dougherty laughed.  “Don’t feel bad, Captain.  It has been happening more and more lately. Including to a certain Air Force colonel, who shall remain anonymous.”


“I have no idea at all who that could be.” Dougherty said, feigning ignorance.


“Well, wherever you have stashed the fountain of youth, can you give me a bottle?” Johnson said.  “You and I are only 2 years apart, but you look more likely to be my son’s age than my brother’s.”


“Well, I will ask, but I have it on good authority, the proprietor closed up shop.”  John said jokingly.


“Well, if you see him again, send him my way, huh? You’re making me look like a slouch, and I got ribbed as a baby face even when I made captain.”  Johnson said.


“If I do, I’ll send him your way.”


“Don’t think I won’t hold you to that, kiddo.” Johnson laughed.


“My boss in Boulder is a Marine.  I know better than to doubt that you won’t.”


Everyone began to leave, and within a few minutes, Declann and Dougherty were alone.  “That went way better than I expected.” John said.


“You know your shit, and you are prepared.  Goes a long way with us.” Dougherty replied.  “I need to go to Washington and read in top brass and keep the lid on things there.  Be gone for a few days.  Should give you and the Army and Corps plenty of time to get things sorted on their ends.”


“Colonel, about the show.  Before I do it, I will need to speak to my better half to make sure it's OK.”


Dougherty looked at John’s ring finger, but he didn’t see anything.  “Didn’t realize you were married.  Lucky lady.”


John smiled thinking of his angel.  “I’m not … well yet.  But I am thinking about him a lot these days.”  Dougherty did look up at that remark but saw the expression on John’s face.


“Well … kiddo.” he laughed. “Any one at all who can make you look that smitten.  Life is too short not to be happy, John.”


“Will see.  That is a ways off either way.  Cops and doctors do not always mix.”


“You mean the British doctor I met … “  John didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have too.  Gabriel was the one subject where his ability to hide his feelings crumbled.  Dougherty reached up and patted John on the back.  “Like I said, life is too short.  And, before you even say it, I have been in combat. Before I joined the Force, I was Army special forces.  In my enlisted days. man on my team was gay.  Back during ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ but where we were and doing what we were doing ...  you get to know someone.  I never met a finer soldier in my life than him.  And now, never met a finer cop.  So, you two need something that I can help with, just ask.”


“Thank you, Colonel.  From both of us.”




Gabriel walked out of the kitchen with a medium-sized plate of grilled chicken salad.  He sat it down with his glass of wine, and in mock pouting, John quipped, “Hey? Where’s mine?  I can’t survive on that little plate.”


“What is it you love to say, ‘Hold your horses,’” Gabriel chided with a smile. As he turned back to the kitchen, he said loud enough for John to hear, “Never thought I would fall in love with a bottomless pit.”  John laughed deeply, marveling at just how lucky he was.  Whoever or whatever it was - God or fate or fairies - who had brought him Gabriel, he didn’t know how to repay if he ever could, but the brilliant little man was the answer to so many of his dreams.  John never imagined he could be this happy.  It was like he was picking the winning lotto numbers over and over.  If only what he had to bring up wasn’t even money to ruin the evening… 

John snapped himself out of that thought as Gabriel came out again, only this time with two large dinner plates filled to near overflowing with chicken, rice, and steamed veggies.  Gabriel struggled a moment with even getting them on the table, before John reached and took one of the plates from his hand.


Gabriel sat the other down and looked at the man who every moment took his breath away.  “You have abs you know.  It is scientifically impossible for you to eat all this for just one meal and do it over and over all day long and still have this.” Gabriel lifted the tank top John was wearing and lightly smacked his love’s deep 6 pack.  “I should know, I am a doctor.”


John cocked a smile. “Jealous?”


Gabriel laughed.  “Why should I be jealous?  I get ALL the benefits, and I do not have to eat like forty people.  But you know what?”  John cocked an eyebrow.  “I love you, bottomless pit and all.”  Gabriel kissed John on the cheek, which sent shivers down the great man.  Gabriel pulled back and smiled, “Now if I can do that, just think of what I could do with 20 inch arms.  You’re lucky I’m small.”  Both of them laughed like smitten teenagers, as Gabriel sat down to his salad.


They spent the first half of their meals going over their days, what they had done.  John talked a lot about a new max squat in the gym, but it wasn’t lost on Gabriel that he had skipped the meeting he was supposed to have had with Colonel Dougherty.  John tried to be normal, well as normal as circumstances permitted, but he sighed. He was unsure how to do this.  Ever since the night they had erased the computer files at the facility,  he and Gabriel and Jack had been talking about how to get more time, to extend how long John could run under the radar.  John knew this -- this request could ruin all of what they had thought of.  But it was his duty, and before anything except his love for Gabriel, John Declann was a creature of duty.    


John looked up and met Gabriel’s face with a look of apprehension.  “Angel.... I need to ask you something.  And with how things are, I don’t know what you are going to think.  But, it is a request from the Colonel and everyone else at the meeting today.”   


Gabriel inwardly prepared himself for something he knew he would not like.  He tried not to show it as he answered in the most cheerful voice he could muster, “What is it, handsome?”


John took a deep breath.  Better to just spit it out, he decided.  “Angel, they want me to go under cover again.”  Gabriel very nearly dropped his fork mid-bite, and a look of terror came over his face.  Setting aside everything else, all the changes and the fear of the people that John had never seen, there was something much more fundamental.  He didn’t think he could stand being away from John again.  


When John saw that look of agony, he realized how it sounded. “No, no Gabriel.  This isn’t travelling.  Not much.  This is in the Springs is all.  I’ll be home everyday.  


“Babe, they just want me to do a bodybuilding show down there next month. Can’t say everything about what they want me to do, but basically to make sure the op is ready to go after the show.  It lets me have a reason to be at the bases around here and down there, and it is an armed forces show....”


Gabriel’s face changed from a visage of panic to one not of anger, but of concern.  “John, how can we hide if you’re getting on a stage in front of the whole world in a few weeks? Jack is coming over tomorrow so we can try and start actually doing some of the things we have been talking about.  How do I tell him we have to deal with THIS of all things?  You mostly naked on a stage right in front of all of the local military.  A few low level brass is one thing.  But - a show?”


“Believe me, I asked the same thing without getting into what is really happening to me.  Warren said that they would have me working under an alias.  No one will know my name except for the six who already do and Sheriff Cooke.  You know how hard it is for people to even recognize me these days.  If Dougherty and I are careful, it should be safe…”  


John stood up and moved his chair to be next to his man.  He sat close and took Gabriel’s hand.  “I promise Angel, this is a one time thing.  It works for the investigation and, honestly, we can have a little bit of fun with this. With everything that happening, we need to have some small amount of fun with it, with me--”  


John raised a hand and pointed to his own mammoth muscles. “With this. I mean, they were busting a gut laughing thinking about ME with all of this against those cocky active duty kids.”  John lifted Gabriel’s hand to his chest, started to bounce his pecs quickly, and smiled his killer cocky smile.  Then, he became serious again resting Gabriel’s hand under his own against the plate of muscle covering his heart. “But, if you say no, then it is a no.  I won’t do this without your permission.  Anything that you think would put us in danger more than we have to be until we are ready, I will not do.  I told the Colonel not to do anything until I called him.  So, it is in your hands.”


Gabriel looked down and considered for a moment.  Then, he looked up, smiled, and said quietly, “It would be fun to see you on stage properly showing off all that stuff you have been learning about bodybuilding …”  John smiled and lifted Gabriel’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Gabriel let out a breath.  “OK.  Since it is for work, and you will be careful, go ahead, John. You can do it.”  


John reached across the table and returned Gabriel’s earlier kiss on the cheek.  Gabriel closed his eyes and sighed. He brought John’s incredibly strong, calloused hand to his other cheek, feeling so much pass between them in that simple touch.  


Gabriel opened his eyes.  “There is just one condition…” 


“What?” John asked.


Gabriel smiled mischievously.  “I think I want dessert now.”


John’s need had been amping up since he got home, and after that, he couldn’t resist anymore.  He stood up and almost ripped Gabriel up out of his chair and into his arms.  John dove into his lover, kissing him deeply.  John wrapped one arm around Gabriel’s back, while at the same time, Gabriel wrapped his legs around John’s ridiculously small waist.  Never letting up for a moment from the passion kiss, John started walking toward the bedroom, enjoying the feeling of Gabriel’s cock growing against his abs.  




Seven o’clock the next morning was greeted by John trotting up to his Jeep.  Like every morning since that first shirtless run in Phoenix, he was dressed only in a pair of running shorts and his new size 16 trainers.  He jogged in place for a moment as he felt his pulse - and was more than a little frustrated.  


Five miles just wasn’t cutting it anymore.  John had done a 30 minute early morning run for years, and it had always gotten his blood pumping and his heart rate up.  But now, he was consistently dropping under six minute miles without even trying.  And as he was again confirming from his pulse, the entire five miles had barely increased his heart rate over normal or made him break much of a sweat.  It felt like he had just finished a gentle jog rather than making a better pace than most marathon runners.  As he popped the top of the liter bottle of water he had left for himself in the passenger seat, he decided to find a secluded spot where no one would see, so that he could pick up his pace and add miles to at least challenge himself.  


John pulled on a stringer, jumped up into the Jeep, and cranked it.  Almost automatically, he reached down to slide the driver’s seat back for comfort …. And it would not move.  The seat was as far back as it would go.  John chuckled.  His growing was marching right on, no matter what the investigation or Gabriel or Jack or anyone else might want.  Strange thing was it was just a week ago that he had moved the seat out. He had never had to move it so fast before.  


Hell, he thought, at this rate, he would have to have the Jeep elongated to get some extra time in it before he outgrew it.  John smiled at the thought of needing a custom Jeep to carry his new body.  But, after their talk last night, he decided he would ask Gabriel about it later.  Sometimes, small thoughts swirled in his mind, worried about what it might be like to be so … different. Then, those thoughts were immediately squashed by some new feat of strength, some new angle he noticed at a new height, or the rush of conquest as he got a new PR in the gym.  He had never imagined this bodybuilding life could be so much fun.


John popped the stick into reverse and moved out of the parking lot.  He had two phone calls to make this morning.  The first one was easy.  Speed dial 2 and --


“Dougherty,” the clipped voice of his nominal boss sounded on the other end of the line. 


“Good morning Colonel.  Just wanted to tell you, the boss said yes to the show.”


“Excellent.  I’ll call with the presiding officer - they selected one this morning - and get all of the orders taken care of.  All we need is a name.”


John thought a minute and like a bolt from the blue inspiration struck.  He recited the name to Dougherty.  “That’s oddly specific.  Any play on words or connection to you that could unravel this?”


“None that I know of.  Just seems to fit the person I am going to be.”


“Fair enough then.  I would suggest you go to Boulder and get a set of identity documents made by your office.  I am sure the sheriff will be more than willing.   You can read him in as far as you feel necessary.  And once I have the order, I can do a verbal auth with him to keep the paper trail down. I can have the new Force credentials with my secretary by the time you get down to Colorado Springs today.”


“Will do.  After that I will head to Fort Carson.” John replied.


“I’m sure Bill James will be looking forward to being made to feel small again,” Dougherty said.  “When he was a lot younger, he competed in bodybuilding.  That’s how the idea came to him so fast.  He’s still a fan, so it would not surprise me at all if he is in the audience for your show.  Just make sure to rub it in a little bit, huh?  We have a bit of a game to “one up”  each other whenever we can since I left the army, and you’re one big ass “one up.””


Declann laughed.  “I’ll do my best to be as cocky as fuck.”


“I’ll get hell from him for this but it will be worth it.  I’ll give you a call when I am back in Colorado.”


“Yes Sir.  And I’ll let you know if there are any major changes on the investigation front.”  John and Dougherty hung up.  


Now, for the fun call.  John pulled off the road into a parking lot, dug through a few business cards he had collected from the undercover investigation, and found the number he was looking for in Los Angeles.


“Hello” the voice on the other end answered.


“Hey man.  It’s John Declann.  How’s it going?”


“Hey Big Guy.  Going well.  Is this anything to do with the weather out here?”  The person on the other end of the line, his LA informant, did exactly as he should have.  John had given him the prearranged code should he call back unexpectedly, and if the answer was yes, that meant trouble.  This wasn’t trouble though.  John was smiling broadly on his end, just waiting for the reaction he knew would come in response to this question.


“Nah.  We are all good.  Wanted to ask a favor on a whole other subject.  Remember that show you kept after me abou--”


The guy on the other end of the phone nearly shouted, “Holy FUCK, you can’t be serious.  You are every bodybuilding coach’s wet dream.  You would win this year’s Olympia if you wanted.”


John laughed, “Think smaller.  Been asked to do a local military show for work, and I know I need help with posing and prep diet.”


The voice scoffed, “Diet help my ass.  You could have done any show,  anywhere from your conditioning 4 weeks ago.  And, if anything I’m guessing you’re even better now with summer coming on.  


“Now.  That show rings a bell…” The guy trailed off in thought for a few seconds.  Then he said. “You mean the little one that Jeff Taylor puts on near Fort Carson?  Think I remember some guys from San Diego go up there every year.”


“That’s the one.”


The guy roared in laughter.  “Oh shit -- Can you say curb stomp?  To see that, not only will I be HAPPY to coach you, but I’ll do you one better.  I’ll rearrange with my other clients, and I’ll fly up to see you do it.  


“Then you can do the Colorado State and quality for USA’s, and then win the USA’s, and win the Tampa Pro, twist Jim Manion’s arm to give you a special invite, and still make that Olympia and win. Be a damned shame to get off the train before the final destination.”


John rolled laughing.  “Down, boy, down.  I know they call you Mountaindog, but damn.  Almost having to say heel.”


“That’s not a no.  Means I have a few weeks to convince you.” the man on the other end laughed. “At the very least you have to do something for me. You’re working out at Armbrust right?”


John started to let his gym jock out by telling a truth only three people on earth knew that sounded like a cocky boast. “Ya.  If it can handle Shaw, it can handle me… for a little while.”


Both men laughed. “Just tell me you’re going when Phil is there and making sure he sees you squat.  If he thinks you’re doing the Olympia, you’ll make the man swallow his teeth.  


“Listen, when you get done for the day, hit me up.  We will set up Skype and start working on things tomorrow.  I’ll make sure Dylan helps you with getting a good poser in time and using his posing room.  And - can I send you a text?”


John replied, “This number? Go for it.”


“Got another friend there.  Young guy in his 20’s. Got his open pro card a couple of years ago.  He still has some physical development to do, but he has an incredible eye for posing.  He can help you work on what I can’t see on video and be there when I’m working with my other guys for their shows.  But, you won’t need much. I can already tell you that. From just seeing you mess around at Venice learning, you’re born to posing the way a duck is born to water.  


“All he will want is to workout with you when he sees what you can do.  And that quiet rage you get when you’re working hard - I think that will drive him to push harder when he sees it.  He needs to develop that instinct too.  That OK?”


“Fine by me, but since this is work-related, whoever you tell, you just can’t use my name.”  


“What name?  The fucking Lone Ranger is gonna take bodybuilding by storm.”  John laughed, told the other man his alias for the show, and set up a time when he thought he would be back home. He thanked his friend and pulled back onto the road to the Sheriff’s office.




By the time John reached Cook’s office, the man already had new credentials made up and ready for him.  Damn, John thought, Cook was efficient, and sneaky as fuck when he needed to be.


Cook chided Declann a bit for coming into the administrative offices in tank top and shorts though.  Cook said that he was making too many of his staff stop and stare.  He was costing the taxpayers money.  Both of them laughed as Cook said it.  John said it happened so much now, he really didn’t notice.  But he promised he would be more careful in the future. John then took a few minutes to update Cook on what was happening on the local front of the investigation, his assignment to Colorado and Wyoming, the bodybuilding show cover, and the tentative timeline to execute arrests so that Cook could have the sting within BCSO ready.  


When Cook stood up to give John the new credential cards for his local ID, he had made a comment that John seemed bigger than last time he was here.  Declann kept it to himself, but Cook seemed shorter to him too.  Not a tremendous change, mind you, but still smaller than he remembered. Cook thought for a second, but just shrugged it off as getting stooped in his old age.  John laughed at that and said he wished he would be nearly as good at 55 years old, and the issue seemed forgotten. 


Finally, Cook asked John to head to the locker room before he left for Colorado Springs.  Cook had changed everything in the BCSO computer system to reflect his new “identity.”  Cook knew it had been months since John had been in the office to even open his locker.  So it was best to clean out anything that was connected with “John Declann'' since that spot belonged to “someone else” now.  John immediately accepted Cook’s advice, as it was something he had overlooked.  With that, John stood up, shook Cook’s hand, and walked out of the office - again bringing business in the administrative area to a near halt as people stared at him.


John took a moment and went out to his Jeep for his gym bag.  It would be plenty big enough to get the things he remembered being in his locker out and away with no one seeing inside.  Maybe it was just a faster pace or his longer legs, but it took Declann less time than usual to get to his vehicle and then back inside to the locker room doors. 


John had to stoop slightly as he pulled open the metal fire doors and entered the officer’s gym and locker room.  When the door closed behind him, he paused for a moment looking around and smiling.  It wasn’t even 6 months ago when he was petrified of this place and now it was all kind of small.  Looking from station to station around the workout area, he realized he would actually be hard pressed to get much of a workout in here now. Maybe some biceps or something high rep but that’s it. John then looked at the incline chest station and chuckled.  He decided to get in a few reps, if nothing else than for nostalgia.


John crossed the gym, turned left through an open archway, and walked into the men's locker room.  His locker was clearly visible from the gym, the seventh inside the arch.  He stopped in front of it and popped the key on his key chain into the small padlock hanging there.  Cracking the lock open and pulling open the metal door revealed … things that made Declann literally laugh out loud.  It seemed like such a lifetime ago he could wear what was in here.  Well, the duty belt would still fit - just.  But fuck … he pulled out the shirt and then BDU’s and held them up. He would break every stitch and then shred the clothes themselves like the Incredible Hulk if he tried to get into them now. Even the boots were 7 sizes too small.  He held the now tiny shoe against his foot and saw that his toes were over 3 inches past the ends of the boots. He truly wondered if he could split them open if he tried to pull them on.


John pulled out all his old clothes and uniform, and after each he had a moment of astonishment, wondering how he could have ever been so small.   Then, he folded and stacked everything neatly on the end of a small bench near the door, putting the boots on top.  He decided he would grab them all after he got in his chest reps.   With the gym empty and being the middle of the morning, he thought no one would come in to see it anyway.  


John went back into the gym area, ripped off his tank, and dropped it next to the incline bench.  After a moment of stretching, like the workout machine he was, John went straight through his normal warm up progression for chest.  135, 225, 315 pounds, each for 10 reps, back to back.  His only rest was the time it took to put on a new plate.  


The difference between now and when Gabriel last saw him benching flat at the facility, John had added 405 for 10 to his warm up progression.  As John stood up and added a fifth 45 to each side, he flashed back to 3 months previous. When Heath had pinned him under that light bar.  If that John Declann had seen anyone move what he just breezed through, it would have left him almost shaking with inadequacy.  And now, here it was -- doing it and it felt just slightly harder than carrying groceries into his house or picking up Gabriel.  He knew he could do these in his sleep.


John popped over to the water fountain before his first working set with 495, and pulled a deep draw of water.  As he was bent over, he was surprised to hear the door behind him open. A very familiar voice sounded, one that once caused him dread.  


“Damn it, Brenda,  Just get it fucking done….” which was followed by a short pause and then a cold tone, “Brenda, when I get home, you and I are gonna talk and I will straighten you out on where your priorities need to be.  And you damned well better be waiting on me.  Don’t make --” Heath broke off as he saw that the room was not empty like he first thought.  Someone was at the water fountain.  “We will finish this later.”  


John quickly swallowed the bile that had washed up into his mouth.  Brenda was Heath’s wife, and hearing that shit, especially from an asswipe like Heath always incensed him.  But now was not the time for confrontation.  John let go of the fountain trigger and raised up to his full height, allowing his back to spread out like a raised topographical map of the mountains that surrounded their city.  John heard a stifled “Fuck” from behind him.  John was now accustomed to quiet curses of amazement at seeing him.  But that tone, that was different.  That wasn’t upset about being overheard.  That was … what?  John could have sworn there was a hint of sexuality in that tone.  He put up his undercover cop shield before he turned around.  No one here but Cook was supposed to know who he was, but John was ALWAYS by the book.  


He turned around to reveal his immense chest and ripped abs and a face so hyper-masculine, so refined, yet perfectly chiseled that a model would lust after them.  And the man he saw - it took all of John’s well-honed discipline not to burst out laughing.  Heath had not changed one bit.  Still the well muscled guy he always was.  Still the strutting prick he always was.  Still the criminal he had always been.  He was the same; it was John who was not.  All John saw of the man who had once pinned him under a bar and threatened him was … small.  Just … small.  Tiny.  A frail thing.  Something that would break like a dropped glass if he were not careful.  The smallest flash of calculation passed though his mind, considering whether he could put Heath over his head into the ceiling tiles with one hand.  But, he didn’t finish the thought for what it might make him tempted to do.  And he could not afford those thoughts --- not yet. 


Instead, John channeled his new identity.  The intimidating, dominant jock Cop he now was.  Someone so practiced and perfected that he may as well have had a split personality.  


“Oh, Hello.  Just thought I’d take time for a quick lift while I was here, and they told me you guys are shirtless when chics aren’t in here.  Hope they told me right...” John said, not giving so much as a hint that he knew who was standing in front of him.  


John noticed Heath breathing quickly, just staring.  Eyes almost … dilating.  No way, went through John’s mind.  That’s crazy, but the signs were all there. 


John took a step forward as his resonant bass voice sounded again.  “You OK, dude?”  


“Oh … oh yeah,“ Heath replied, starting to regain his composure after his brain short-circuited when confronted by the titan in front of him.  “Just wasn’t expecting someone quite so … so tall in here.”


“Oh.  Well, I am taller than most that I have seen in the office.  Don’t think about it much to tell the truth.  Anyway, something I can help you with?”


Heath was walking around toward the locker room, but his eyes never left John, not for a second.  It was then, when he almost tripped over the bench John had left his clothes on, that Heath latched onto … “Oh, yeah.  You haven’t seen a small guy around here?  Kinda dark red hair like yours.  He is thin though.  Name is Declann.  This is his stuff here.”


John smiled inwardly, thanking fate that he had left those clothes there.  Heath had no idea who he was.  PERFECT, he thought.  Let’s run with this and see what he gives me.  John began to slowly walk toward the locker room bench and Heath.  To see John move, it felt a bit like seeing an apex predator stalking prey.  The guys at the gym called John “The Predator” when this side of him started to come out.  A small, cocky smirk began to form on his lips. 


“You know when I came in, there was a small guy here. Kind of like you describe.  Didn’t catch his name though.  Didn’t speak much, either. I think he’d been ordered to clean out his old locker cause they assigned this locker number to me. When I showed up, he just took off and left his stuff. Don’t know where he is now.”


By the time he had finished, John was within a couple of feet of Heath and right on top of his old things.  With his cocky smirk on full, John reached down and picked up his old boots. “Nice boots, good condition.  They are small though. Might fit my little brother,” John idly mused as he glanced down at Heath’s legs. “Or you.”


John put the boots back where he found them and the Predator stepped back for a moment.  “But, no I never caught his name.  And speaking of - didn’t catch your name, man. Haven’t been here long enough to meet many people.”  John said.


“Uh.  Sorry.  My name’s Jeff Heath.  I'm a senior deputy on the county SWAT team.” Heath’s voice wavered a bit, confronted by the shirtless muscle giant.


John came up just a little too close to Heath and extended his hand.  Heath was staring straight into John’s upper pecs and had to crane his neck up a bit to look John in the eyes.  John was smiling as he looked down.  His eyes bore into the smaller man.  


“I’m Brady.  Kyle Brady.  On loan from Air Force Civilian Police.  Good to meet you Jeff.”  Heath took John’s much bigger hand and tried to squeeze it in a proper firm handshake, but John squeezed back JUST hard enough to break Heath’s grip and press his knuckles together without really hurting him. And not for an instant did John’s eyes ever move from drilling a hole straight through Heath’s head.  Heath had this small feeling in his bladder, like he should wet himself.  The statement was made.  An alpha male was in the room, and Heath wasn’t it.  


John lingered for just a moment and then dropped Heath like he had not even been there.  John turned around and started walking back toward the bench.  And if he had calculated correctly … 


“I’ve sure as hell noticed you.”  Heath said, voice with just a slight tremor.  


Bingo, John thought.  


Heath continued, “You’re kind of hard to miss.  You must have been lifting since before high school.”


John never turned around as he replied. “Believe it or not, I ran track in high school.”


John heard Heath walking toward him but the voice was still shaky, unsure. “What the fuck? Track?  No offense, but I’ve never seen a track runner who wasn’t skinny as hell.”


John turned around.  “Yep,  Track.  But I was different back then for sure.  You might say I was a late bloomer.”


“Well damn, you’ve changed.”


“You would be surprised just how much.” 


Heath tried to maintain his composure and reassert himself after that weird feeling when this Kyle shook his hand.  “Yeah, I’ve seen that happen sometimes.  Guys keep just growing after high school.  Me - I got to 5’11” in tenth grade and only filled out after that.  Not taller at all.  But, maybe it was better that you did track in school.  Hitting gear too early can stunt your growth, they say.”


John’s eyes flashed cold for just an instant, locking onto and catching the little man again. “Seen that with kids sometimes.”  John’s deep voice dropped slightly lower, making Heath flinch in spite of himself.  “Fucking shame too…”


Heath backpedaled a bit, “Yeah, I used to look down on skinny runts, but some of them sprouted, and if they got into the weight room, they ended up fucking huge --- Like you.”


John pulled back slightly in response to Heath's compliment.  John decided it was time to play, and time to see if he really was right about what the signs in Heath’s responses to him showed.  The Predator started to come forward again.  


“Thanks man.  I certainly do try.  Can’t claim any credit for getting tall though.  Just kind of happened.  The muscle though --” John walked back to within a pace or two of Heath.  “That I had to earn.  Still came on pretty quick.  Guess you could say I have a talent for it.”


Smirking down, John bounced his mountainous pecs in Heath’s face.  His grin grew a little more as he saw a few beads of sweat break out on Heath, and his eyes definitely bugged out being so close to a man who literally dwarfed him.  


“But,“ John said as he stopped the display and took a step back, “was gonna say that you do not look like you’re a stranger to the gym.  Great build for sure”  He paused and then added, almost as an afterthought “…. for a little guy.”


“Thank you,” Health said, almost - flattered, John thought.  “But, you… you’re just damned impressive.  And I am not a man that is easily impressed.”  Heath tried to hide what happened then, but John caught it.  A quick glance at his cock and a breath.  Too quick of a breath.  It was then that all the pieces came together.  


John knew EXACTLY what was happening.  The scrawny little fuck is hot for me, John thought. He wants ... John almost lost it, but then something else came to mind. The Predator came on in full force.  He was going to either reel Heath in or put him in his place.  Either way, this was going to be fun…


John stepped back toward the water fountain.  With his back toward Heath, John held a barely contained laugh under his voice.  “Impressive, huh?  Well  I can appreciate that.  But, you know.  I always found what you can do with mass even more impressive.”  John got a quick sip of water before turning around and “mindlessly” rippling his pecs as his devastating sexy smile cracked on his lips.  He cocked his head in the direction of the incline he was on.  


“So, let me ask the gym noob question.  What’s your bench, man?”


Heath became almost sheepish under the mental onslaught of MAN John was dishing out on him. “Ahhh… 4 …. 425.”


John said in reply as he came back toward the bench, “425.  That’s respectable for just about anybody.  How about what’s on the bar now?”


Heath questioned. “10 plates….ah 495?”  


John cocked his head again, inviting Heath to come closer, as he sat down on the bench’s seat.  “Bet I know what you’re thinking when you look at this much weight.”  John’s voice lowered as the Predator came out even more.  


“You stand alone, ten plates in the hole. It’s you versus the weight.”  John popped his neck back and forth, loosening up.  His voice drops lower again, softer.  Bringing Heath in closer.  John locked eyes with Heath.  “You're thinking, ‘I'm going to get fucking crushed.’ You're thinking, ‘I am not gonna get up.’ 


“You'll puke. You will feel like your gonna die, and it will be hell getting off the shitter the next few days.’ 


“But, I’m here to tell you, it will all be worth it. ‘Cause when there’s chalk on your hands and sweat running down you, there's no better place in the world.” John leaned back as he grasped the bar. He looked up one last time at Heath with eyes that seemed to drill straight into Heath’s brain.  “Can you handle it?”


John lifted the bar off of the rack, and then, slowly, methodically, without so much as a groan or stress at all started, lowered the bar to his chest and then started pressing.




John seemingly effortlessly racked the bar and then stood up.  His pecs were already pumped, deep red with blood, fine veins starting to cross the muscles of his pecs and delts.


Heath was breathing like he was watching a porn.  “Oh my GOD.  You made that look easy…”


John looked at him, his voice switching subtly to the command tone he took in the gym.  He flexed his pecs a few times as he walked almost into Heath’s face he was so close.  But John never slowed, just walked to the weight rack and grabbed a pair of 25 pound plates in one hand.  


“Let’s see what I’ve got.  Here. Toss a quarter on there.”  John said, putting the weights he was carrying in into Heath’s hand.  


Heath’s grip broke immediately under the width of the plates. He was barely able to bring his other hand around to keep them from falling.  Heath almost ran to put on another 50 lbs on the bar as John sat down to a 545 lb press.  Heath stood back slightly, like he was going to spot the giant, but the question was humble, something akin to a little boy. “Do… do you need a liftoff?”


This time, John couldn’t hold it back anymore.  The chuckle that came from his mouth was nearly derisive.  The look he gave was as if he were looking at a specimen in a petri dish.  


“What do you think?” John replied.  He sat under the bar.  The bar flexed, warped under the strain, as John brought it to his chest again and pressed smoothly.  




John re-racked with a crash as the entire apparatus under him shook with the forceful impact of a quarter ton of steel.  


John sat up, veins popping over his forearms, chest and delts even thicker, bigger.  John lowered the pretense now and simply commanded Heath.  “Pull ‘um off.  Put on another 45.”  


Heath walked almost zombie-like, removing the 25 plates.  He walked to the squat rack to get more weights, the closest place with another pair of 45’s.  When he turned around, he saw John, eyes locked on him, the Predator was fully out now.  Heath didn’t even notice the small wet spot on his groin growing.


Heath finished preparing the bar, 585 lbs on it making the bar bend before John ever touched it.  Heath was nearly incredulous now, as he simply said, “But that’s …”


The Predator replied with contempt, “That’s what...?”  


John slid back down, set himself, and grasped the bar.  The bar distorted as it slowly rose again.  The Predator let out a low primal growl now as the bar moved 




The bar looked like it would almost snap as it racked, and John’s chest looked like it would burst through his skin it was so red and full.  Heath was nearly drooling, mind more than blown, overloaded by what he was seeing.


The Predator commanded, “Put the quarters back.  That will be...635.  That’s what --- 3 of you, little man?”  


Heath obeyed without thinking, and John’s cock began to fill slightly.  Dominance poured out of him, so strong it was as if he were born to control all human life.  When the collar locks were back in place, the Predator’s eyes gleamed into Heath.  “Hop up on the step.”


Heath moved to stand in place behind and above John where one would normally give a spot.  John leaned back onto the back pad.  Heath began to move his hands as if to help in a liftoff when the Predator stopped him with a word, a growl that made Heath’s balls feel like they should shrivel and pull back into his body.  “LOOK.  DON’T TOUCH.”  John commanded.


Heath’s hands backed away and dropped, and he turned his head down to watch the mountain below him.  Heath’s eyes consumed the vision, John’s semi-hard cock peeking out of the bottom of his shorts, contrasting with the living rock under his command.  The bar looked like it would snap as it bent …. And John lifted it off….






A roar erupted as the Predator forced the bar through the sticking point. 




Heath’s eyes were wide as plates, his mouth agape at the raw power he was seeing.  The bar slowly lowered again.  


John paused as it touched his chest.  The Predator’s eyes locked onto the crumbling once-a-man that was Jeff Heath.  John killed any momentum, any hint of mechanical advantage that might aid him in the lift.  1...2...3 seconds he waited.  Then the Predator let out a near primal scream as he poured power into the bar, and it moved slowly, but relentlessly up.  Quarter way, then to the sticking point, then to three-quarters, then his arms locked.  John moved the bar back and racked, making everything, Heath included, shake.


A light sheen of sweat covered John’s body now, just like what he told Heath when he started.  John stood towering over Heath.  Even with the smaller man elevated several inches on the spot platform, John was STILL more than a head taller.  He stepped forward grasping the bar. He pressed his arms into an insane triceps flex and leaned over it. The smell of musk and sweat pouring over Heath, his eyes only seeing someone, something beyond a man in front of him.  The Predator softly growled.  “Well…  Can.  You.  Handle.  It?”


Heath’s dick was clearly outlined in his BDU’s, the spot of pre so large it was starting to actually make a trail down his leg from his groin.  Heath’s face and eyes were no longer those of a cocky prick.  Instead what was looking back at John was shock, fear, submission, and pure lust.  Heath seemed to tremble as a leaf in a very mild wind.  


The Predator took in the entirety of the tiny man but not giving away even a hint that he was doing so.  He was right, and he knew it.  The Predator knew the shitstain had tasted the bait.  Now it was time to set the hook and reel him in.  


After what felt like hours, but was really perhaps three seconds, John stood, took a couple of steps back, and turned around.  As he bent to pick up his stringer from the floor, he said, as if nothing at all had happened, “I don’t know.”  


He raised back to standing with the tank dangling from his fist at his side, “I don’t think that bar can handle much more weight without flexing too much.  I don’t want to permanently warp it.   Not much use to you then.  But, you really need to get some stiffer power bars in here to handle proper weight.  Clear that off for me, will you?”  John’s tone sounded like he was asking a favor, but both men knew it was an order.


Heath instantly hopped down and began to take the plates off the bar, much to the bar’s relief as it raised back up into place.  Heath removed a plate on one side and then the other, replacing them on the plate tree.  Even through unloading the bar, Heath kept glancing up at John, his breath haggard as he watched the giant get a big gulp of water from the fountain, wipe his brow with his stringer, and walk into the locker room.  


Heath mumbled as he was finishing clearing plates, “You’re the only one who would need it…”


John replied again, as if nothing had happened, “What was that?”  John was now in front of the mirror at the sinks, flexing his pecs and pulling a side chest pose.


Heath, finishing his task, said, “Nothing.  Just that you’re the only one who would need it.”  Heath moved into the locker room but stopped dead as he saw John posing.  


“Oh really?  I supposed that’s true.  Sometimes I forget that most guys are weaker than me.  Gonna do the armed forces show in the Springs in a few weeks.  What do you think?”  John said as he pulled back and SLOWLY, flexed his titanic arms, bringing them forward and squeezing his pecs in an open hug, dropping into a most muscular.


Heath’s eyes nearly exploded out of his skull.  He briefly wondered what it would be like to be inside that crushing pinser, if he would even survive it.  “Ahhhhhh ……. Ahhhh….. I don’t think they stand a chance.”


John smiled, “Think so?  Kind of you.  And you haven’t even seen my best pose.  Been told my double bi’s my money shot.”  John set his feet, put his arms above his head, and then pulled them down into the biggest double biceps Heath thought had ever been seen on earth.  Heath’s eyes could not stop moving - first it was biceps the size of Heath’s head, then it was lats that looked like he could outspan a 747, to two veins that looked as thick as his index finger running across the peak with branches upon branches smaller and smaller veins crossing everywhere, to the reflection of absolutely perfect abs and obliques clearly visible in the mirror, to the delts staring him in the face from his rear vantage that seemed to have bowling balls stuffed inside.  


“Holy shit….” Heath let out, barely above a whisper.


John’s smile began to gain the faintest hint of the Predator’s gleam.  “Come on, take a closer look.  Really like your opinion.  And put yours up while you’re at it.  I’m showing mine….”  


Heath couldn’t refuse, but a knot formed in the pit of his stomach behind his abs.  He knew what was coming, but … he couldn’t or didn’t want to stop it.  He walked almost robotically toward John. When he was within a foot of the cop muscle god, Heath stopped.  John relaxed for just a moment and took a step back, putting Heath just in front of him.  John set again and pulled the pose even HARDER.  Heath didn’t think it could be any bigger, but everything about the Predator behind him was larger now.  Heath had no choice but adopt the same pose.


It was striking.  Heath’s own, large for most men, 19 inch biceps were totally dwarfed. John’s FOREARMS were larger than the fattest part of Heath’s peaks. In the mirror, the top of John’s split peak was perfectly visible, rising higher than the back of Heath’s head.  It looked like a pro bodybuilder in his prime posing with a noobie young teen looking for inspiration.  


John noticed and this time, he could not hold the laughter back.  John could see it in Heath’s eyes looking back in the mirror.  The little man was not only defeated, but totally crushed.  The tiniest sound of a whimper escaped Heath’s mouth.  It could not be clearer who was the MAN … and who was the boy.  


John had made the exact impression he had wanted, but the laugher sounded totally good natured … almost.  John dropped the pose, allowing his right arm to just brush down Heath’s back.  Heath gasped almost in fear.  “Oh Shit.  Sorry, man.  Like I said, sometimes I just forget how short people are.  So, what do you think?”


“I don’t think anyone has a prayer against you, Kyle.  I mean it.  Not a hope in hell.”  Heath said, still looking at the reflection of the arm that had sent shivers through him.  Heath didn’t even realize it when his thoughts accidentally poured out of his mouth.  “Kyle, you have to tell me.  What supps do you take to look like… THIS?”


John looked at Heath via the mirror.  “Well you know, usual stuff.  What about you?”  


“Mostly natural stuff, but sometimes.  Sometimes I need a little help, you know?”


John took a step up to the counter in front of the mirror and picked up his tank.  “Yeah…. Happens to us all sometimes.  Needing that little extra kick.”


John started to pull the stringer over top of his head.  Heath took the moment to stare dead into the reflection of John’s bulge in the mirror. He thought he had been fast enough to avoid detection as that mass of XXXXL cloth that made up the tank obscured John’s view…. He hadn’t been.  John knew it almost the moment it happened.  


Gotcha, John thought. Hook set.  Reel him in.


Heath replied, finally turning around.  “Forgive me, but you sure don’t look like you need any help.”


“Well, some things you need help with.  Others … not so much.”  John smirked.  “Some things are just genetic gifts.  You know that.”


“I wish I had your gifts.”  Heath said, so close to total defeat that the last few inches wouldn’t have mattered.    


John turned around and walked to grab a folded towel from the rack near the lockers.  “Looks like you have some gifts yourself.  That little ass of yours looks like it has had a lot of heavy squats put into it.”


Heath blushed immediately.  The way Kyle said it, he couldn’t be sure if Kyle just hit on him, or if he were making an actual comment about his glutes. But he had to be sure.  He HAD to.  “Uh, so Kyle.  After you finish up and take a shower, you wanna grab some food? You’re new here, so it’s on me.”


John seems to totally ignore the man talking to him as he turned on the water inside a shower stall.  But after a pregnant moment, he replied, “Thanks for the offer man, but I have to go and talk to the boss.  But…. I'll tell you what.”  John tossed his towel down onto a bench closest to his shower and walked back to where his locker contents were folded on the edge of the bench closest to the gym door.  One of his own old notepads was just barely visible, poking out of his old uniform shirt.  He looked back at Heath, while cocking his head toward the small pile.  “Think he would mind?”


“He wouldn’t say fuck if you burned it all.”  Heath replied.  John cracked a half smile as he removed the pad and then pretended to rummage for a pen.  Pulling out the pen exactly where he knew it was, John wrote the number of his Air Force burner phone on a piece of paper.  He ripped it out, and then just dropped the pad and pen back onto the bench as if the man who owned them was beneath his contempt - exactly the way Heath would have dropped them before today.


John held the piece of paper JUST out of Heath’s reach, while still looking like he was offering it.  “If you’re willing, I might just take you up on that a little later.  Shoot me a text and when I find out what the boss wants and when, we can set up a time.”  Heath almost fell over himself to grab the paper out of John’s hand.  


“No problem, Kyle.  Looking forward to it.” Heath said.


“So am I.  Catch you later, Jeff,” John replied.  John turned around and started for the shower.  He lingered just long enough for Heath to leave - or at least appear to.  John slipped off his shoes and socks, his tank and shorts and walked with the confidence of any gym jock cop into the shower.  But John knew Heath was still there.  He hadn’t heard the metal fire door to the hallway outside open or close.  John cracked a smile and turned just enough to show what he wanted as he soaped himself.


Trying to stay hidden, Heath was able to catch John’s reflection in the mirror.  Heath nearly swallowed his tongue as he finally got to see the cock and balls John was packing … and they were every bit as enormous as Heath expected.  He stared entranced for a good thirty seconds before John turned to wash his face.  Heath wondered just how long he would need to wait to text so he didn’t look too desperate to feel that cock inside him, as he opened the door and went into the hall.


John heard the door close and snickered.  Snickered at how truly EASY that was.  The tiny man really was pathetic.  Finishing his shower just a bit sooner than he normally would have, John slipped his gym clothes back on and laced his shoes.  That little display was just an appetizer for what his real workout would be later.  But now, the wheels were turning.  He knew that Heath was hooking up with men on the side, probably using the steroids as some way to meet men.  Whether his wife knew or not had to be determined but … how he spoke to her on the phone.  That tone.  The tone of a coward.  The tone of an abuser.  IF that were true.  John unconsciously pumped his fist, making his forearm writhe.  IF that were true, he knew what he wanted to do.  He just … damn it.  Gabriel.  


No, John thought, before I cross that bridge I have to know first.  And, Gabriel also needed to know that everything looked a little smaller.  Jack was supposed to be at his place with Gabriel still.  He would call and have them both wait until he got home from the Springs.  They would both want to know.  After Jack had gone, he could talk to his angel about the scrawny prick and what he wanted to do.  Though he was sure Gabriel would not like it.




John burst through the door of his apartment.  “Angel, Jack?  Where are you two?”


Gabriel’s accented half shout came in reply.  “In the kitchen, John.”  John dropped his gym bag beside the door in its usual spot, made his way through the dining room, and around an L corner to the kitchen.  John couldn’t help but laugh at the sight -- Gabriel making tea.  “Do you EVER not drink tea, Gabriel?”


Gabriel looked up and scoffed.  “I’m English.  I can’t move without tea.  It's just not done, and it's too bad American’s have lost this little bit of civilization.”  John walked up, bent down and kissed Gabriel on the cheek.  John then turned around to see Jack, his back turned to John and Gabriel, rummaging the cabinets for a snack.


“John, do you have anything here that isn’t macro friendly?  I need something nasty and sweet and --”.  Jack turned around and then stopped in mid word.  “John, are you taller?  Already? And you’ve gotten more muscle mass too.”


John became less jovial for a moment as he touched Gabriel’s shoulder, a message to turn around.  “I was actually wanting to talk to you two, since you’re both here.  At work today, people, rooms, all felt a little smaller.  I mean smaller than when I was there a week ago.  And Jack… you look smaller too.”


Jack turned and had to take a couple of steps to actually see both men at once.  “Gabriel?”


Gabriel looked quizzical. “I hadn’t noticed.  But then again, I do see John everyday.  Daily changes are not going to register to either of us as much.”


“Grab your tape measure John.  We need to measure now.”  Jack said.  


John went to his gym bag and removed a 10-foot cloth tailor’s measuring tape.  “Gabriel, bring the step stool.  I think you both will need it.”  John said, both matter-of-factly, but also with a hint of gym jock pride.  After his run-in with Heath earlier, he had been rather cocky all day long, and it just happened to fit in with Warren wanting him to “one up” his colleague.


“Wipe that smirk off your face, you gorilla.”  Gabriel said, already bringing the small step that John had once used to change lightbulbs.  John hadn’t needed anything like that in a while now.  


John lightly tossed the measuring tape to Jack, who caught the lob easily.  Gabriel handed him the folding step, and John lined himself up on a flat, floor to ceiling wall.  “Slip those shoes off,” Jack reminded John, who complied.  Once set, Jack climbed to the top step, and found himself just barely at the top of John’s head.  He let the tape measure end go until it hit the ground and examined the measurement closely.


Jack took a deep breath and let out a low whistle.  He stepped down and looked at John.  “How long did it take you to grow your first two inches?”


“Assuming I began inside the facility, two months.” John said, “Why?”


“John, you are 202 centimeters tall.” 


Gabriel instantly said, almost incredulously, “WHAT!?!  Jack --”


“I can take a measurement Gabriel.” Jack snapped, showing his concern.  “John, you are now just shy of 6’8” tall. You’ve gained over 2 inches in 10 days.  Not 2 months, 10 days.”


“John, we need to do everything.  Where is your pad that you used to keep measurements in for me?” Gabriel asked.


“In the bedroom in my nightstand, “John replied.  Jack was already moving around, struggling to maneuver around John’s muscle mass to get accurate measurements.  Meanwhile, Gabriel brought in John’s bathroom scale.  The measurements were not as accurate as the lab body scanner, and John was dangerously close to maxing his bathroom scale.  But what was happening was obvious once they saw it all in black and white.


Height: 6’7.5”

Weight: 343.9 lbs 

Neck: 24.25 inches

Chest: 64.125 inches

Waist: 34.125 inches

Forearms: 21.75 inches

Upper Arms:  25.125 inches

Thighs: 35.5 inches

Calves: 24.75 inches 


Gabriel collapsed onto a soft oversized chair, and put his hand to his mouth. John knew this mannerism, Gabriel was afraid.  “Oh my God.  I am such a fucking idiot,” Gabriel mumbled.  “The more you challenge your body the more it grows.  I just didn’t think.  But it's obvious.  John, it’s not linear growth, it's exponential.’  Gabriel stopped, his lip almost trembling “We do not have a lot of time.  John…. John, its accelerating.”  


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This is AWESOME!!! Many, many more chapters please 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻

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Wow, welcome back!  Your writing was sorely missed.  So happy to see more of your contributions.  You stories are so well written, vibrant and detailed.  

...and HOT, lol.  Grow John, grow!

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That was incredible! Welcome back!

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Thanks guys for the welcome and the praise for the story.  Intensity goes up from here.  So I hope you like what's coming.

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