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Roommate, The (by Xyggurat)
Just a brief preface. There's no muscle growth in this chapter. I was really wary of putting it out without at least some physical transformation, but because of the whole writer's block situation I can't, in good conscience, hold off completed work. Besides, this particular chapter should make clear a turning point in the tale. (Viva la resistance!)
I'm still searching for some inspiration as we move toward the conclusion of The Roommate. I must admit, O'Melissokomos and Jockmorphr did a fantastic job in the sequel to "Brett's Un-Lucky Jock." That's actually one of my favorite stories, as you might realize from the theme of The Roommate thus far.
(However, I like happy endings.)
|"I believe you."
I wasn't sure I believed myself. Somehow, I had managed to tell him all about Phil and this entire affair. I wondered at the time whether Phil's command had lost its hold over me. The thought did not hold in the heat of the moment.
Christian was looking up at me from his seat on one of the locker room benches; his plain grey eyes surprised me with their piercing gaze. I wondered if I had done that to him or if they had always possessed such a striking quality. They had seemed so dull and grey in the haze of my need. Everything else had changed. His voice was a burnished baritone where before it had been a light tenor. If his skin had been flawless marble before, now it had transcended the worldly beauty of stone. My seed had washed the femininity away from his features, leaving behind solidity and gorgeous angles. His face was a glory of hard planes and sharp definition, from the faint blue-black misting of stubble along his cheeks up to his brow, whose pallid perfection was broken only by the black juttings of his dark hair.
Looking at him was turning me into a poet. It was also giving me a major erection.
Despite my inspired vocabulary, 'hard' was the only word that could describe his body. His skin left not a ripple, not a striation, to the imagination. No fat marred his eight-pack abdominals. I could see the blue of veins pulsing through his Apollo's belt even as he leaned forward, unconsciously mimicking a thinker's pose. His biceps occasionally flexed as if of their own accord, showcasing a baseball peak. His arms and chest were a bit overdeveloped, but those small flaws only contributed to his beauty.
Feeling perilously close to cumming again just at being in his presence, I forced myself to look away from him. Staring at the linoleum tiles underfoot, I could almost think. Was it my imagination, or could I feel the heat coming off his body? Was his oversized tool even now inflating in anticipation of—
Desperate to contain myself, I forced myself to ask, "You do? Believe me, that is."
He let out a soft laugh, and I looked back at him. He said, "The way I see it, I'm either hallucinating or living proof that something weird is happening here. But... I mean, sure. Evil roommates. Everyone thinks their college roommate is evil. You just had the misfortune to find one that actually is.
"And I really want to help you." Christian cupped his chest and flexed it. The muscled globe expanded so much that he needed to widen his grip. "I mean, you've helped me. I don't think anyone will ever call me little again. You're a god, Dane." With that, Christian hefted his enormous cock and grinned a sultry grin.
I almost burst.
"Er, I guess," I breathed. My face was heating, but whether from the offhanded praise from this paragon of manhood or because of my body's reaction, I didn't know.
Christian's smile fell away from his face. He shook his head and spoke as if to himself. "Doesn't make it right, though."
"What do you mean?" I asked. In order to keep myself from watching him further and inadvertently forcing more growth upon him, I walked over to my towel and pulled it off of its hook.
His voice did not move from its original location, settled on the bench he'd taken to hear my earlier confession. In one way, I was glad he stayed there. I wasn't gay. But a part of me wanted to fall into his arms and be safe for the first time since Phil had begun to change.
"I'm built. All of a sudden. I've exceeded my genetic potential. There's no way I should be... what, 5'9? Maybe 5'10. My parents were shorter than I was. And the biggest workout I've ever done was for swim team. In the course of five minutes, I went from ninety-eight pounds of solid wimp to the stud every man wants to be.
"And I'm grateful for that, but it's still not right or fair. I feel like I've leeched off of you, like you've gone through the pain and I got the gain."
I shook my head fervently, but kept my back to Christian so he wouldn't see the agreement written across my face. "It's not like that," I told him.
"Phil did this stuff to me. He's still doing it to me. I don't even know how to fight him, but some part of me is beginning to think I can. And things are getting better. You haven't tried to shrink me or humiliate me yet," I deadpanned.
He didn't laugh, but rejoined, "I guess I forgot to read the 'Evil Villainy' chapters during my 'Introduction to Bizarro World' classes, sorry."
"Look, Christian. Some subconscious part of me wanted to give you this." I turned to look at him. The boyish smile of gratitude on that faultless face was almost painful to see. "And you seem like a really nice guy, for all that you sneak up on random guys in the showers." I stepped over to my locker and started putting my clothes back on.
He laughed. The mellifluous sound echoed through the bathroom. "You came on me, Dane. I think you definitely take the weirdness prize here."
"I'll give you that. As Phil changes me, I... I seem to be losing control. I'm not the sort of guy that—that does that sort of stuff. I'm not even gay," I added quietly. I was having trouble putting on my boxer shorts because my dick was disagreeing with my comments about my sexuality.
He sighed. "I figured you weren't. The hot ones never are. Okay. Well, maybe once. Or twice."
I found myself grinning again in spite of myself. Smiling like my life wasn't falling apart, like I had nothing to face. And then, in his ignorance, Christian brought the world back to me.
"The only thing we can do is try to stop him before he does more to you," he said, like it was a triumph of logic. "You may never get back what you were, but at least you can stop shrink—"
"No," I blurted. Then, a moment later, I repeated, "No. Definitely not."
"What?" His question was sharp, as if he had not expected the vehemence of my answer. I looked at him as I finished putting my shirt on. He looked crestfallen, and a little stung. The natural pout on his lips made me melt.
"It's not that I don't want your help, Christian. It's just... I told you about Phil's powers. I might be learning to fight the mind control, but I can't guarantee that you'd be able to do the same. The one thing that would kill me right now is having the only other person who knows turn against me."
It didn't take him long to think. "All right, then," he offered, sounding more confident. "What can I do to help you?"
"Pretend like this didn't happen. Wear some bulkier clothes, stoop a bit, and if anyone asks tell them that you've been working out. And... help keep me sane. We'll have to talk in secret, just so Phil doesn't suspect anything."
Christian nodded. "You know I'll be there for you. You may not be gay, but... well. I think I like you."
My face flushed again, but I answered genuinely. "I think I like you, too." I tried to fish for something else to say, but finished lamely, "I've got to go."
It was getting late, and Phil would expect me back soon. Talk of fighting Phil had pushed an appointment back into the forefront of my mind. Brief companionship, however genuine, had made me realize what I'd been feeling for awhile. I was alone.
He nodded again, then asked, "Where to?"
I smiled as I said, "Oh, to a professor's for some tutoring." I patted Christian on the shoulder. Holy moly, his shoulders were hard. And big. Like there were boulders underneath his skin. Rather than dwell on those dangerous thoughts any more, I left the bathroom.
I hadn't told him a lie, specifically. I just couldn't risk Phil finding out somehow. Christian could not help but be a weak link, and I would not see him get involved in this. I needed to see Professor McTague. I had to start fighting for real, because no one else could do it for me.
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