muscle-growth The Good Fairies

[noname]

Hey guys,

 

This is a story I wrote for http://marquis-de-rent.tumblr.com/, as a present on his fifth anniversary of - in his own words - "drawing hyper muscle porn" and publishing it "on Y."

 

Three cheers to him for sharing his awesome art with us!

 

*****

 

The Good Fairies

 

“Time to get up, lazy bum.”

 

Croissants, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Also, someone’s lips deliciously close to his ear.

 

Tom wasn’t exactly a morning person, but it was hard to resist Luke’s perennial good cheer even this early in the day. “Lazy bum, hm?” The barest hint of a smile. “I’d have thought my bum held up rather valiantly under pressure last night.”

 

Luke giggled naughtily at this: “Maybe it was just a lucky shot. We’ll have to see whether the experiment yields similar results on future occasions. Well, be that as it may, here’s a peck on the cheek and a pat on the back and… a little present on our fifth anniversary.”

 

At this, Tom felt a small lump form in his throat. He sat up and took a good look at the man who had turned what had been merely a good life into something that seemed almost embarrassingly beautiful. “You know, I’ve said this before. I don’t think I deserve to be with a guy like you.”

 

“Oh come on, you sweet-talking piece of sex on legs. It’s not like I’m making a huge sacrifice here. Besides, what’s ‘deserve’ got to do with it, anyway? I sure as hell don’t deserve to be with someone like you, either. But here we are, right?” Another kiss, this time full on the lips, then some affectionate tussling of Tom’s hair. “Breakfast is ready, love. And I do want you to open that present.” He added, with a wink: “There’s time for a shower later on, if we squeeze in there together.”

 

Tom put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and walked over to the kitchen table, which was beautifully decorated with flowers and filled with all the things he loved for breakfast: some fruit, homemade jam, different kinds of butter and cheese, pickles, some bacon, scrambled eggs. And, right next to his plate, there was a little black box tied with a white ribbon, and sprinkled with what seemed like stardust.

 

“Couldn’t resist a touch of gay, huh?”

 

Luke looked puzzled, saw the twinkling dust and frowned: “To be honest, I hadn’t noticed.” But then his frown gave way to that smile which still dazzled Tom after all this time: “Looks pretty, though – lucky me. Anyway, ’nuff said, open the damn thing already.”

 

“Charming, positively charming.” Tom knew that patience wasn’t exactly Luke’s forte. It was, he’d readily concede, one of his lover’s few weaknesses. Yet to him it had never mattered much; perhaps he loved him all the more for it. For wasn’t it Luke’s impatience in the face of injustice that had led Tom to admire him even before he had fallen in love? Luke’s fight for immigrants, exploited by ruthless profiteers and right-wing politicians alike? His outrage at those who justified their own prejudices by appealing to the authority of the almighty, whatever name they chose to give him (or ‘her,’ Luke would surely have added, even though he remained entirely agnostic about his – or her – existence).

 

So yes, Luke could be impatient, and they sometimes got into fights about it. But none of their fights had been serious, really, and Tom was willing to take the bad with the good – the good that shone through in Luke’s volunteer work at the old people’s home nearby, in his dedication as a teacher at a school that could barely afford to pay him, and in his ability somehow to forgive the guy who had been too drunk to see Luke jogging down the road that dark night, three years ago. Tom still remembered the feeling of despair that weighed him down after receiving that phone call from the hospital, the agony of not knowing whether Luke would live, the relief when, despite the loss of his left leg from the thigh down, Luke managed, somehow, to rediscover his old self. Or no, that wasn’t it, really. Luke hadn’t just gone back to his old self, but – amazingly, in Tom’s opinion – had succeeded in becoming a subtly different, better one instead.

 

*****

 

You may find it odd to learn that, at precisely the same moment, Tom wasn’t the only one thinking about that dark night three years ago. Luke watched Tom take the little black box with the white ribbon in his hand, shaking it gently, setting it down. He observed him picking up a croissant, carefully cutting it in half, bending down and taking a deep breath, savoring its smell.

 

Several of Luke’s friends had never quite understood why someone as energetic, as buoyant as he decided to settle for a guy who was as quiet and unremarkable as Tom. Oh, Tom was nice, none of them ever disputed that. He was courteous, and kind. But so were many guys, not a few of which were more handsome as well as… well, more exciting to be with as Tom, who had little sense of adventure and seemed just not quite good enough, not quite glamorous enough for Luke.

 

So Luke’s friends had never quite understood – until, that is, three years ago, until that terrible night, when Luke was thrust into the abyss, and they had been too stunned to provide either comfort or good cheer. It was then that they began to see what Luke had recognized so much earlier, with the clarity of vision only granted to those who look with love: that Tom had in him some unfathomable source of strength: a quiet fortitude that had sustained Luke during his long, arduous recovery after the accident, in ways that even Tom didn’t fully comprehend. “I don’t think I deserve to be with a guy like you,” Tom had said, and, Luke knew, not just to please him.

 

Perhaps Tom’s most annoying habit was that of not really knowing his true worth, of always putting others first (except early in the morning, when his altruism knew more conventional bounds). His tendency to be overly humble –to underrate himself almost consistently, in fact – certainly wasn’t the fault of Tom’s parents, who loved their son to pieces and had immediately accepted Luke as part of the family. Perhaps it came from growing up poor and being treated like shit by his ‘friends’ in school; Tom was reluctant to talk about it, and Luke had always respected his silences.

 

Luke watched Tom lovingly arrange the food on his plate, pouring himself a glass of pineapple juice, slowly sipping a bit of coffee – and eventually couldn’t hold back any longer: “Jesus, Tom. Open the damn present!”

 

Tom smiled, as if he’d only been waiting for one of Luke’s bursts of impatience. “Alright, love.” A theatrical sigh. “If you insist.”

 

Carefully, Tom untied the white ribbon, straightening out the creases – Luke knew Tom would want to use it again; he hated waste of any kind. After several excruciating seconds, Tom proceeded to the lift the top off the box, just a little, barely enough to peek inside. His smile became broader. “It’s a ring, isn’t it?”

 

Luke rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. He knew it was Tom’s way of savoring the moment, and, maddening as it was, it was also endearing.

 

At long last, Tom had removed the lid and lifted the ring out of the box. It was very plain, and made of steel rather than of gold or silver. No precious stones or artful shapes adorned it, only four words, engraved in the most unceremonious of fonts: FOR TOM, MY LOVE.

 

Tom, still smiling, quietly wiped a tear from his eye, then pulled a slip of paper from the box.

 

“What’s that?” Luke asked, and Tom raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him: “Given that you put it in there, it’s safe to assume that you know better than I, dear.”

 

“No, seriously, honey – I have no idea.” Tom examined Luke’s face, and saw that he really had no clue what it was. “Perhaps it’s some kind of user’s manual?”

 

“Ha ha, very funny. What does it say?”

 

Tom unfolded the little slip of paper and squinted at it, trying to decipher the minuscule script: “’You’ve been very good and you have our blessing.’ – signed, The Good Fairies.”

 

Luke burst out laughing. “Come on, stop teasing me. What does it say?” But now it was Tom’s turn to shrug his shoulders and insist that this was, precisely, what it said: “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

 

For a few seconds, they kept their eyes on the mysterious piece of paper, then Luke said: “Oh well, a blessing is a blessing, right, even if it’s totally weird. We should probably be grateful, right?”

 

Tom got up and walked around the table, wrapping his arms around his lover: “You’ve definitely got that right, handsome. Plenty to be grateful for. Thank you for everything, love of my life.”

 

Luke started to reply, but then he felt something like an electric shock. He tumbled off the chair and hit the floor, hard. At first, Luke was slightly dazed, but then his head cleared and he scrambled to his feet. When he noticed that Tom was staring at him as if he’d been struck by lightning, Luke tried his best to reassure him: “What? Seen a ghost? Trust me, I’m fine.”

 

“Luke, your legs…”

 

“I told you, I’m fine.” But then suddenly something clicked, and Luke understood why Tom was turning pale. There really was nothing wrong with Luke’s legs: he had scrambled to his feet – plural, in both cases. The world started to reel, and Luke passed out.

 

*****

 

When Luke came to, he was lying in bed, and Tom – of course – was at his side. “Man, I had the weirdest dream.” Then he felt Tom’s hand on his left calf and for a moment feared he was going crazy. “Tell me I’m dreaming.”

 

Even Tom was shaken, yet somehow he managed to retain some sort of calm, steadying his lover’s sense of self as only he could, even before he spoke. “Well, if it’s a dream, then we’re clearly having the same one.” Tom swallowed hard, close to tears. “You know, since that… since that awful, awful night I wanted nothing more than to know that you were whole again.”

 

“What are you…? Are you kidding me? You’ve made me feel complete in a way I’d never felt before. Before the accident, and after. After, especially.” He put his hand on Tom’s neck and pulled him close: “Without your strength, I … I would never have made it back from that terrible darkness.”

 

Tom groaned, and at first Luke thought he wanted to voice some objection – always true, always humble – but then Luke realized that wasn’t it at all. For some reason, Tom was sweating quite heavily, and Luke grabbed him by the shoulders to ask what was wrong. Tom shook his head, as if to say “nothing,” but Luke could feel how tense his boyfriend was; Tom’s shoulders felt like rock or steel or…

 

Luke shook his head, as if to clear it from some idea that was just too bizarre to entertain. And yet, it was difficult to uphold any semblance of disbelief, given what both his eyes and his hands told his brain to be true: Tom’s muscles were slowly, but surely growing.

 

Luke tried to say something, but the words seemed stuck and just wouldn’t come; all he managed was a groan that sounded almost comically similar to Tom’s. He saw his lover’s pecs – quite shapely to begin with – slowly filling out, nipples deliciously, provocatively erect. And not just that: his shoulders, his arms: Tom’s whole body was swelling bigger, and Luke realized that his hands had strayed from Tom’s shoulders, exploring his traps, his neck, his pecs, down towards his abs and further down, towards another body part that stood erect – and of course Luke’s own cock was hard by now, too, harder in fact than he could ever remember, and suddenly he knew that it was growing, too, growing like Tom’s, straining against the fabric of his jeans.

 

Luke forced his attention back on his boyfriend, who was staring at his right arm, flexing and unflexing it, watching his biceps rise higher each time, swelling bigger and bigger, slowly but surely filling the sleeves of the t-shirt. Luke’s hands kept exploring Tom’s body: his abs, his butt. Tom was beginning to look like a junior bodybuilder, and Luke wondered, briefly, whether his body could ever become as powerful as his spirit.

 

As if in reaction to a silent challenge, the pace of Tom’s growth increased, and Luke could hear the seams of his lover’s shorts begin to tear, loosing their fight against his increasingly massive quads. Luke’s hands traced the shape of Tom’s flaring lats – the wings of his very own muscular angel, who now looked as if he could easily win any bodybuilding contest, even Mr. Olympia.

 

Luke was only dimly aware of the sound of his growing cock bursting through his pants as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on Tom’s lips, and he moaned in pleasure when his lover wrapped his now thickly muscled arms around him. The essence of everything seemed to flow into that kiss, as their tongues caressed each other for minutes and minutes on end, the pitch of their passion soaring higher and higher, their hips moving to the rhythm of their hearts.

 

Their kiss remained unbroken even as Tom’s muscles started tearing through his shirt, his upper body too massive to remain contained any longer, bulging and thickening with incredible strength. Luke felt Tom’s body pressed against his, hands discovering what seemed a new country that was turning, slowly, into a continent, a vast expanse with mountains of muscle, rivers of sweat and the sweet, scented herbage of Tom’s breast, Luke’s fingers exploring the nooks and crannies of this body which was so familiar yet which had always also felt startlingly new, and which was now becoming what it had always symbolized to him: the epitome of a power that had nothing to do with violence or intimidation and that he would have called pure masculinity if he hadn’t known that it was beyond gender, too. It was that sense of ultimate humanity that, for Luke, was embodied in this gentle behemoth who kept growing underneath him, muscles inflating, swelling, thickening, pound after pound after pound after pound, so vast that Luke knew he’d never be able fully to understand it, amazed that he didn’t even need to possess it because Tom was giving it to him, had been giving it to him, for all these years, freely and happily, as if he deserved it, and he felt himself being pulled even closer to him, wrapped in the most muscular embrace he or anyone else could imagine, his tongue still caressing and being caressed, their sweat mingling as they started to come, come together, come forever, forever it seemed, in love forever and forever strong.

[BigCubNY]

good lord! the feels! so much sexy yet touching stuff going on! *sniffle*

[noname]

good lord! the feels! so much sexy yet touching stuff going on! *sniffle*

 

Thank you!

[AlexDrake]

Oh man. True, deep love getting rewarded by physical augmentation. The perfect man is transformed to be even more perfecter. 

You'd wish all the best for these two kind, loving people who'll be there for each other no matter what, and then that's exactly what happens. No matter where The Good Fairies came from, but you can only wish it to happen to anybody you love (and yourself, let's be honest  ).

 

A great read, would love to see who else The Good Fairies might pay a visit to.

[superkappa]

This. Was. Awesome.

[noname]

Oh man. True, deep love getting rewarded by physical augmentation. The perfect man is transformed to be even more perfecter. 

You'd wish all the best for these two kind, loving people who'll be there for each other no matter what, and then that's exactly what happens. No matter where The Good Fairies came from, but you can only wish it to happen to anybody you love (and yourself, let's be honest  ).

 

A great read, would love to see who else The Good Fairies might pay a visit to.

 

 

This. Was. Awesome.

 

 

Oh dear - I just realized I haven't said thank you for your two comments yet! Well, here we go: thanks!