m/m Misfit- Chapter 3

[umlerian49]

Here's chapter 3. Tomorrow is release day for Berkeley Daze #4: The Summer of Our Disconnect.

 

U.M. Lassiter

 

 

 

It was Hamish Conner’s nature to be nervous. All of his life, he felt like he was on the outside looking in, and that suited him just fine. Avoiding human interaction meant avoiding bullies, avoiding ridicule, avoiding risk. Whatever relationships he had with other human beings was either accidental or completely unavoidable.

 

The relationship Ham had with his roommate Paul was closer than any outside of his own family, which really wasn’t saying much. Still, when you’re required to share a dorm room with another individual, a certain intimacy simply can’t be avoided.

 

At least Paul had been friendly and kind, but he was most definitely the only one. Without exception, every other time he’d ever shared anything personal with anyone, he’d come to regret it. When he was nine, he made the mistake of admitting to a classmate that he’d like to be a dancer when he grew up. Even at that young age, he was widely considered effeminate, and the news traveled through the school at lightning speed, and the resulting ridicule was merciless.

 

The lesson Ham learned was to be cold and distant, and never share anything. When he finally admitted to himself that he was gay, it felt like it was the final blow and ultimately sealed the transformation of his soul to a cold, hard, lifeless piece of stone.

 

Still, he’d had crushes before; plenty of them. But in all those instances, he recognized them for what they were– purely biological responses to erotic stimuli. He went home and satisfied those responses in private and told himself that his needs were met. Sadly, they were.

 

But now, something new had happened. The faintest spark of passion had manifested deep inside his otherwise lifeless soul, and it both excited and terrified him. Somewhere in the farthest recesses of his mind the tiny germ of a thought was hiding– the idea that perhaps he was capable of a small measure of happiness.

 

Lee Prentice had ignited that tiny spark. No one had ever tried to come on to him before, and it boggled Ham’s mind. He still didn’t know why he didn’t run away in horror, considering what a flaming fag Lee was. Hard-won experience had told him to stay far, far away. Yet, Ham’s feet stayed rooted to the spot, at least for a brief, excruciating period of time. 

 

It didn’t help that Lee was damned cute. Blond, blue eyes, dimples; all on a slender, well proportioned frame.

 

Why was this situation different? Ham wrestled with that question as he got dressed. Perhaps it was because they had something in common. It wasn’t something as simple as their sexual orientation. Ham knew the answer to that question, but he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

 

Ham had just awakened from the most vivid dream of his life. He’d had muscle growth dreams before, and he’d certainly had lots of dreams about Paul. What really creeped him out about this one was the fact that he woke up naked, and all of his clothes were torn to shreds exactly the way he’d seen in his dream.

 

He finished putting on a fresh set of clothes and slipped out of the dorm. Paul was due back from lacrosse practice any minute, and he didn’t want to deal with seeing him just then.

 

It was getting cold as Ham hurried across the darkened campus, and he pulled his hoodie up over his head. He had to learn more about Professor Lofgren’s experiment. 

 

The cones and yellow caution tape had been cleared away from in front of the Science Building, and he hurried inside and down the stairs to the basement.

 

As he scurried through the office area on his way to the lab, several heads popped up from cubicles like some bizarre prairie dog town. Once the grad students saw that it was simply a lowly underclassman, they quickly withdrew back into their private warrens.

 

Unlike the night before, there were several people in the quantum lab that evening, and he studiously avoided all of them as he hurried down to the lower level.

 

The area around Professor Lofgren’s apparatus seemed surprisingly tidy. There was no residue of any kind in the vicinity, and the electronic monitoring equipment seemed perfectly intact, and powered up. The stainless steel chamber seemed intact with the exception of a slight bulge around the middle. The one detail that indicated any trouble was the chamber door. 

 

The oval door was bent and hanging from a single bolt. Ham recognized immediately that the lone fastener had likely saved his life. Had all of the bolts broken when the door failed, it would have become a lethal projectile. Ham stepped forward and ran his finger along the chamber’s twisted mounting flange as he absorbed the unsettling realization.

 

“Mr. Conner, what brings you here tonight?”

 

Ham pulled his hand back with a startled jerk.

 

“Uh, Professor, hello,” Ham said once he caught his breath. “I heard about your incident.”

 

Professor Lofgren was a tall, slim man in his fifties. He was wearing his usual white lab coat and holding a plastic spray bottle and a white, fluffy rag.

 

“Who hasn’t, by now,” he said with a half-smile. “You must have just missed it.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“That’s a very good question. For some reason, the reaction chamber suffered an intense over-pressure event. It was much more than the safety systems could handle. More than should be possible, as a matter of fact.”

 

“What was the experiment for?” Ham asked. The professor put down the rag and sprayer and started to pull off his rubber gloves.

 

“We’re trying to come up with a completely new way to construct extremely complex molecular structures,” he said. “We start with fairly complex carbon molecules, and under intense heat and pressure and a variety of different kinds of radiation, we build an extremely reactive compound. Kind of a super-nanite.”

 

“Nanotechnology?”

 

“Yes, but on a much finer level than anything yet achieved,” Lofgren explained. “Nanites that are being developed today are similar in size to a human cell, or larger, and since they’re really just tiny robots, they’re limited to a single task or two.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“The main thing that those researchers want to do is build what amounts to an artificial antibody. It’ll travel around the body on seek-and-destroy missions against damaged or diseased cells, like cancer. Our super-nanites are much smaller, and will be able to enter the diseased cells and repair them instead of destroy them. This would open up a whole new range of possibilities,.up to and including tissue and organ regeneration. We could actually program the super-nanites to rebuild or replace diseased, damaged, or even missing organs.”

 

“That’s amazing,” Ham said.

 

“It is, isn’t it?” Lofgren said. “But that’s years off. At this point, I’d just settle for a nanite that was stable outside the reaction chamber. Clearly it’s not even stable inside.” The professor looked at his damaged equipment with mild disgust.

 

Ham looked at the apparatus appraisingly.

 

“It looks like you got things pretty well cleaned up,” Ham said.

 

“Actually, there wasn’t that much to do,” Lofgren answered. “The nanites break down almost instantly once they’re outside the rarefied environment. At least it makes them harmless.”

 

Ham breathed a huge inward sigh of relief at the utterance of the word ‘harmless.’

 

“Good luck, professor,” he said. Ham’s heart was considerably lightened as he hurried back upstairs and out of the building.

 

 

So a few questions were answered at least, Ham thought as he climbed the stairs of the dormitory building.

 

The black sparkly material was a new kind of nanite that didn’t yet do anything, and dissolved almost instantly. That fit what he saw when he shook out his ragged clothes.

 

The shock of the explosion must have dazed him, and he wandered back to the dorm, took off all his clothes and got in bed. Ham recalled stories of people being in car crashes and not remembering what happened. It all made perfect sense.

 

Except, not quite. How did his clothes get shredded while he was napping? Maybe he’d been sleepwalking. Maybe he’d developed a sleep disorder. That was all he needed to add to his list of neuroses.

Ham felt his stomach rumble as he opened the door to his room.

 

“Hey, Hammie,” Paul said without looking up. He was sitting at his side of the desk, the soft, cool glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face.

 

“Hey,” Ham said softly, and closed the door behind him.

 

Paul was wearing an old pair of sweat pants and a school tee with the sleeves cut off and the openings cut back to expose his firm lats and rippled serratus muscles running down the side of his powerful torso. Ham swallowed hard at the sight, felt a tingle run up his spine and wondered if he’d ever get used to his roommate’s virile good looks. 

 

“Feeling better?” Paul asked.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Ham breathed deeply the fresh, clean scent of deodorant soap, noting that Paul’s hair was still slightly wet. “How was practice?”

 

Paul turned away from his computer screen for the first time and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Fine,” he answered. Ham didn’t usually ask about Paul’s activities, not even in passing.

 

“Good,” Ham said awkwardly. He always sucked at small talk. “Nothing, um, unusual?”

 

Paul looked down and stuck out his lower lip.

 

“Nope, not really.”

 

“Good, I mean, is that so?”

 

“Yeah,” Paul said after a short pause.

 

Ham was relieved to learn that his dream didn’t really happen, regardless of how ridiculously unlikely it was. As he stood there in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next, his stomach growled again, only louder.

 

“Whoa, buddy, you must be pretty hungry,” Paul said. Ham hoped his angry gut wouldn’t betray him again.

 

“I should go grab some dinner,” he said.

 

“I haven’t eaten either,” Paul said. “You want to order pizza?”

 

“Well... okay,” Ham said as he sat down on his bed. His stomach gave another growl, causing Paul to chuckle.

 

“I guess we’d better hurry,” he said as he picked up his phone and dialed.

 

While Paul was ordering, Ham became more and more entranced by his studly roommates’ body. He sat slackjawed as he watched Paul’s delicious torso ripple and twist through the extra-large openings in the flimsy fabric, sometimes allowing a glimpse of a wondrously well-formed pec. When Paul put the phone to his ear and his shredded, veiny bicep popped out, Ham had to struggle not to blow his load for an unprecedented third time that day. How could he suddenly be so horny?

 

“They said about forty minutes,” Paul said as he set down the phone.

 

“I’ll be right back,” Ham said nervously, trying to hide his boner as he stood to flee. As he was reaching for the doorknob, something extraordinary happened.

 

Ham stopped dead in his tracks, and all the anxiety drained away in an instant. It was as if someone had pulled the drainplug of an over-filled sink. He suddenly knew that he could will his rampant erection to relax, and so it did. He took a deep breath and turned back around.

 

“I should get some homework out of the way,” he said.

 

“Huh?” Paul looked up at Ham with a furrowed brow. “I thought you had to run to the little boy’s room or something.”

 

“It can wait.” Ham said. Paul shook his head and went back to his computer, while Ham sat down and pulled out his calculus homework.

 

Ham didn’t know where this sudden feeling of well-being came from, but he felt so relaxed and comfortable that he decided not to question it. As he went about solving the problems on his worksheet, he couldn’t help noticing that Paul kept stealing little looks across the desk from behind his computer screen. Instead of feeling self-conscious, Ham felt like it was natural that Paul would be responding this way. 

 

As they waited for their pizza to be delivered and played this odd little game of hide-and-seek, every once and a while a tiny particle of doubt would surface in Ham’s mind. This isn’t right, the little particle would say, it doesn’t work this way; but just as quickly, the odd feeling of ease would rise like some underwater creature and pull the doubt back down beneath the surface.

 

Ham was sitting closer to the door, so when the knock came, he rose to answer.

 

Another chill ran up his spine when he opened the door. The pizza guy was a bonafide hunk, and Ham was suddenly once more in danger of losing control. Then, just as quickly, the well-being washed back over him.

 

“You order pizza?” the man asked. He must have been a football player, because he was wearing a letterman jacket over his pizzeria tee shirt and was built like a linebacker.

 

“I, uh...”

 

“How much is it?” Paul called from behind.

 

“Fourteen-fifty,” the hunk answered.

 

Ham thought his knees would buckle at the sound of the magnificent stud’s voice, but then, almost like someone had thrown a switch, Ham was solidly back in control. He cleared his throat and looked the big man squarely in the eye.

 

“You have change for a twenty?” Ham asked.

 

The studly delivery guy started to open his mouth to reply, but then for a moment, his expression went oddly blank. After a few seconds, he came out of his trance-like state.

 

“This one’s on me,” he said, and slowly held out the pizza box.

 

“Thanks,” Ham answered, like this sort of thing happened to him all the time.

 

The man broke into a grin like a child receiving a compliment for a much-admired parent. Ham smiled, took the pizza and gently closed the door. He wasn’t sure, but Ham thought the man leaned over slightly as the door was closing, as if to get the last possible glimpse. 

 

“Let’s hope they got it right this time,” Paul said as Ham set the box between them. “What do I owe you?”

 

“It was... free...” Ham said as he realized how bizarre the transaction had been.

 

“You’re shittin’ me,” Paul said. Ham sat down as he tried to figure out what just happened.

 

“I’m not,” he said with disbelief. “He said it was on him.”

 

“Huh. Must of been a contest or something.”

 

“Yeah,” Ham answered, still feeling confused. “A contest.”

 

 

The pair was just finishing the last of the pizza before either spoke again.

 

“You got a hollow leg or something?” Paul asked as he wiped his fingers.

 

Whenever they’d split a jumbo pizza in the past, Paul had eaten the lion’s share. Ham didn’t mind because he usually ate like a bird. Even so, there was usually a slice or two to stash in their mini-fridge.

 

This time, Ham had wolfed down nearly two-thirds of the pie before he finally came up for air.

 

“I was hungry,” he replied with his mouth still full. There would be no leftovers that night.

 

“Yeah, boy!” Paul said with a smirk.

 

In fact, Ham was still hungry.

 

“I had a huge lunch, too,” he said.

 

“Maybe you can finally put some meat on those bones,” Paul said playfully. “You might even attract one of those muscle men you’re always drooling over.”

 

Normally, that would have been enough to make Ham turn three shades of red and bolt from the room. This time, however, he found himself oddly agreeing with his roommate.

 

“I wish,” he answered. 

 

Paul leaned over, put his elbow on the desk and propped his head in his hand.

 

“You never know,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

 

The pair locked eyes and Ham felt that strange tingle in his spine again. Ham realized that all this time he’d spent ogling his roommate’s body, he’d never noticed what a handsome face he had; his bone structure was simply exquisite.

 

“I guess you don’t,” Ham said, mesmerized by Paul’s handsome face.

 

The tingling in Ham’s spine grew as Paul slowly started to rise from his chair and leaned across the desk. Ham could feel Paul’s warm breath on his face when they were just inches apart.

 

“No, never,” Paul murmured.

 

Ham’s heart was racing as their lips came together and he closed his eyes as he savored their touch. This was better than he’d ever dared hope. As they broke their kiss, Ham reached up and placed a gentle hand alongside Paul’s face. He smiled as he slowly opened his eyes, but instead of seeing Paul smiling back as he expected, he saw a face wide-eyed with surprise.

 

“Jesus Christ!” Paul blurted as he jumped back.

 

Ham panicked and leaped to his feet, becoming entangled in his polymer molecule model that hung over the desk from the ceiling from a string.

 

“Oh, man!” Paul said as he was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

Ham was verging on a full-blown panic attack and turned, opened the door and dashed from the room, cracking his head on the door frame as he went. Holding his head, he ran down the stairs as fast as he could and out into the night.

 

 

“God damn it all to hell,” Ham swore as he sat on a bench on the far side of campus. 

 

Not only couldn’t he go back to the library, he couldn’t go back to his room. At least his head had stopped bleeding. As he clutched his bloody handkerchief, he started to wonder if throwing himself off a bridge was a viable option, after all.

 

“Hey sailor.”

 

Ham looked up to see Lee leaning against the nearby lamppost with his arms across his chest.

 

“Oh. Hi.”

 

Lee sat down on the bench next to Ham.

 

“Are you okay?” Lee asked.

 

“Yeah. I just hit my head, that’s all.”

 

“You sure that’s all? I mean, did someone do this to you?”

 

“Nah, I was just clumsy.”

 

Lee wasn’t completely convinced, but he decided not to push it.

 

“Let me see,” he said. Ham tilted his head forward. “That doesn’t look too bad. You don’t look like you’ll need any stitches or anything.”

 

“I’ll be okay.”

 

Lee rose to his feet and held out his hand.

 

“C’mon. You need to get that cleaned up.”

 

Ham took Lee’s hand and allowed himself to be led away to safety.

 

 

“I’ve got a little nephew that I swear is accident prone,” Lee said as he dabbed at the cut on Ham’s scalp. “They’re forever patching him up. Three weeks ago, he got himself hit in the head with a baseball.”

 

Ham was sitting in a chair in Lee’s dorm room with the young man clucking over him like a mother hen.

 

“I see,” Ham said.

 

“It stopped bleeding, so I’m not going to try to put any kind of a bandage on it. It’d just get all stuck up in your beautiful hair,” Lee continued.

 

“Thank you for doing this,” Ham said.

 

“No problemo,” Lee answered. “I’ll just put a little Neosporin on it. How did you say you did this happened again?”

 

“On the doorway in my room.”

 

Lee wiped the last of the ointment off his finger tip with a tissue, then stepped back. He crossed his arms and tapped one finger against his lips as he looked at Ham with a puzzled expression.

 

“Stand up,” he said.

 

Ham was expecting his head to throb as he stood, but strangely, it didn’t.

 

“The top of the doorway?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Lee furrowed his brow.

 

“It must be a pretty small door.”

 

“Well, no, it’s just like...” Ham started to point toward the nearby door, when he realized the impossibility of his statement. Lee sat down on the bed and gestured to Ham to sit next to him.

 

“Why don’t you tell Uncle Lee what really happened,” he said.

 

Ham turned and looked in Lee’s eyes, and the strange calmness started to once again wash over him.

 

“I’m not sure where to begin,” he said.

 

“The beginning is nice,” Lee answered. He scooted ever so slightly closer to Ham and cocked his head to one side as he looked into Ham’s eyes.

 

Ham told him about the explosion, not knowing how he got back to his bed, waking up naked– twice– his weird dream (although he didn’t go into all the kinky detail), everything short of blasting his man-juice all over the dorm in unprecedented quantities.

 

Then– and he didn’t know where he got the courage to reveal it– The Kiss.

 

“So you’re saying, he kissed you?” Lee asked.

 

“I couldn’t believe it,” Ham said. “He just leaned right over.”

 

“You mean, like this?”

 

Lee tilted his head a little bit further, leaned in and delivered a gentle kiss.

 

“Um, yeah.” Ham flushed slightly and couldn’t help grinning just a little.

 

Ham wondered why didn’t he bolt from the room. The kiss earlier, as much as he had yearned for it, was a disaster. This one felt natural; comfortable, even. Maybe it was the fact Lee already knew so much about him through the muscle growth chat room.

 

Lee took Ham’s hand.

 

“I think you’re totally hot, and I’m surprised there aren’t more boys that want to kiss you.”

 

Ham started to feel the tingle. It ran from the base of his spine up to his head, but this time it was much stronger.

 

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” Ham said softly.

 

Lee kissed Ham again, but much deeper, much longer this time. Ham had never experienced anything like this. It was like an orgasm, but more in his head and in his heart than in his groin. Lee broke the kiss and leaned back slightly and gave a coy little grin.

 

“Is it working?” he asked.

 

“Um... kinda...”

 

Before he could say anymore, Ham felt a stabbing pain through his midsection.

 

“Arrrg...” he said as he doubled over and fell to the floor.

 

“Ham!” Lee dropped to his knees next to Ham’s writhing form. He’d seen someone have a seizure, and this looked far worse. Ham had rolled himself into a ball and was shaking violently while Lee desperately tried to remember his first aid training.

 

Lee was about to dial 911 when Ham suddenly straightened his body out, his arms and legs stretched out like some bizarre gingerbread man. Lee jumped back, dropping his phone.

 

Trying not to panic, Lee groped under the bed for the phone, while Ham’s back arched slightly and he stared at the ceiling, his teeth clenched and his face in a painful grimace. As he was turned away from Ham reaching for the phone, Lee heard an unexpected sound.

 

The tearing of fabric.

 

Lee turned back and couldn’t believe his eyes. Ham was growing. His legs and arms were getting longer. Sleeves were tearing from Ham’s shirt as his shoulders broadened. Buttons started popping as the shirt split down his expanding chest. Ham’s neck thickened and his lats grew until the top seams of the shirt split.

 

Meanwhile, the seams of Ham’s jeans popped open along the side as his thighs and calves started blowing up like balloons. His shoes split open as his feet outgrew them. 

 

Lee had to pinch himself as he watched, spellbound by the impossible growth of the figure in front of him.

 

As quickly as it started, it stopped. The giant figure on the floor suddenly relaxed, and its great chest started heaving and drawing in air. Lee was frozen to the spot as the figure slowly sat up and got to its feet.

It had to be nearly seven and a half feet tall and four feet wide. As it stood, scraps of remaining cloth fell away. Still breathing heavily, the creature that used to be Hamish Conner held up it’s huge hands and slowly turned them over to examine them. It’s face still resembled Ham, but now it was strong and angular and incredibly masculine.

 

The creature was Lee’s wildest muscle fantasy made real; from the impossibly wide shoulders, to the massive chest, to the gigantic arms, to the oak tree legs to the incredibly narrow, powerful waist.

 

But most impressive of all was the giant that grew from the creature’s loins. It’s cock was at least sixteen inches long, and nearly as thick as Lee’s forearm. It jutted upward above a pair of balls the size of small oranges.

 

Still on his knees, Lee looked up at the creature in wonder and amazement.

 

“My god,” he whispered.

 

In the blink of an eye, the creature reached down with one massive hand and hoisted Lee in the air by his throat.

 

“Yes,” it said with a deep rumble, “I am.”

[arpeejay]

Thanks! I needed that!

[Aronymous]

Those last 3 sentences. Daaaayym.