Art looked up, a look of confusion on his face, "What was that about?"

"I knew your eyes were blue. But I didn't realize what a beautiful shade they were until now without your glasses. They're like Elijah Woods', but deeper. And in firelight they really sparkle."

Art absentmindedly traced an invisible circle in the center of Michael's left pec, "Yeah? Too bad I can't see wihout'em." He leaned in, laying his head on Michael's chest, and sighed contentment. "God, I love your chest. Your pecs are like two big, gorgeous pillows. Sometimes I wish I could just make'em grow. Did you ever wish you could skip all the lifting and just make yourself grow?"

"Sometimes. Ya know, it's funny you should mention that. I had a dream the other night like that."

Art's voice was muffled from the thick slabs his face was buried in, "Like what...?"

"Well, it was really vivid. I dreamt that I actually grew."

Art's eyes popped open, and he removed his face from Michael's chest. "Grew....in what way?"

Michael shrugged, making his pecs bounce a bit. "In every way. I got taller, my shoulders got wider, and I pumped up really huge. It was freaky, even my dick got bigger! Everything got, like, three times...."

The mixed look of shock and wonder on Art's face made him pause.

"What night, exactly...?"

"Why?"

Art swallowed hard at the thought that had just struck him. How badly he'd wished he could see Michael with a body like that. It couldn't be. He spoke very slowly.

"A few nights ago, I drew a picture just before I went to bed. It was a sketch of you. I drew it to look like that. Then, I erased it. I only drew it in fun, but..."

Michael laughed, "So, you think you made me grow? Arty, that's ridiculous! Besides it was only a dr-...." He stopped, suddenly remembering his clothes laying on the bed around him in tatters. "...No, it's not possible."

Art looked at him searchingly, his voice barely above a whisper, "What's not possible?"

Michael swallowed now, gazing into the fireplace as if the answer were there. He spoke the words slowly, "I...remember waking up....and my clothes were torn to shreds on the bed around me."

Art's eyes twinkled, "There's only one way to be sure..." He got up from the couch and ran upstairs, "I'll be right back....!"

Michael looked on as Art bounded back into the Living Room with something in his hands. It was his sketchbook, and pencils. He sat on the chair across from him, flipped enthusiastically open to a blank sheet and looked at Michael with wide eyed giddiness.

"Ya wanna put this to the test?"

"Be serious, Art. You can't really believe that this could work, do you?"

Art was serious and almost manic at the same time, "What else could it have been, Michael...? I told you how you've affected my work. How you've become my inspiration! And who knows what the human mind is truly capable of? Maybe I hit some sort of...", he flailed his hands in a circular motion, emphasizing his zeal, "I don't know...psycho-artistry or something!"

Michael was swayed by Arthur's sudden fervor, "Ya really think...?"

"Only one way to find out. And ya admitted sometimes you wish you could just grow..."

Michael shrugged, "Okay, why not? What do you need me to do?"

Nothin'. Just stand there so I can get a good look at you from head to toe."

Art stood up, straightened his shirt. "Don't you need to draw my back...?"

Art smiled sheepishly with a blush. "To be honest, I have every inch of your body memorized. I just need you to model for occasional reference."

"But...what if you draw things too big for my frame?"

Art looked at him sicerely, "Trust me?"

Michael's heart melted at the look in Arthur's eyes, "Yeah, I trust ya. Go for it."

Arthur set his pencil to work, quickly rendering Michael's basic form.

Michael was suddenly overcome with the sensation that someone or something was litterally tracing the lines of his body. It felt as if some force were thoroughly examining by touch every outline, curve, and contour of his physique. Like someone using the tip of a feather, it almost lovingly caressed each line of muscle. Every striation. every masculine curve, every bulge, nook and cranny. And the wierdest part was it felt most certainly like it was happeneing between his skin and clothing.

He looked to Art who was lost in his work, only glancing up every ten seconds or so. "How, exactly, are you drawing me, Arty...?"

Art answered without even looking up, "Naked."

"Why?"

"Detail, Michael. I'm drawing you in the buff like I did before."

The sensation stopped. "Done already?"

Art looked up finally, pushing his glasses up and wiggling his nose to situate them comfortably. "No. I've just lightly sketched you in as you are now."

"Okay, what then?"

Art smiled broadly. "Now? Now I draw the dark lines of the change, using them to render what I want you to loo like. Any requests...?"

Michael shook his head. "Nah. Go for it, do what ya wanna do. Go wild."

Art set to work without another word. Michael could see that he was erasing, and redrawing as his pencil flipped from one end to the other repeatedly. He marvelled as he watched the nimbleness of Art's fingers. It was almost like watching a dance, and perhaps for the first time really appreciated the effort that went onto Arthur's work.

"Done."

"Done...?"

"Yep."

They waited for a long moment as nothing happened.

"I don't feel anyth-"

Michael's voice cut off with a gasp as that strange sensation washed over his body once more. Heat, tingling, a sudden feeling of expansion from the inside like an erection but all consuming of his entire being. Art's eyes went wide as they beheld the beginning of the transformation.

His voice was a cross between a whisper and a sigh, "...michael...."

Michael grunted, deep and gutteral as joints popped and bones lengthened. His shoulders widened immensely as his torso elongated along with his arms and legs. His muscles seemed to deflate as they stretched over the expanse of his new frame and his clothes slackened from their usual snugness. His shirt rode up slightly to reveal the third row of his abs while the cuffs of his jeans revealed his ankles. With his petit waist still intact, he had increased two whole feet in height.

Michael observed the change, and looked down at Art, "Ummm, is this what you were going for? A basketball player...?"

Art smiled, and shook his head. The answer came quiet, simple, and bemused. "No. I had to make room."

Michael's face registered confusion, "Room for wha-...?" He never got to finish the question as he was overcome with the sensation once more in earnest. An odd sound, like a stretching noise filled the room as the metamorphosis took hold.

Michael's neck began to get wider as the cords of muscle thickened and swallowed his adams apple. It spead further to his traps which rose to bunch up around his swelling neck and push their way above the neckline of his collar. His delts began to expand, first the frontal head, then the medial, then the posterior; each muscle swelling individually causing his shoulders to inflate outward.

His biceps and triceps began next as they swelled outward from eachother and once again began to fill the upper halves of the shirt's long sleeves. Michael felt the growth tear into the multitude of muscles in his back while it simultaneously struck his chest. His pecs began the adventure as they inflated outward and increased the breadth of his chest, rapidly filling the space between his now wider shoulders.

His lats and abs joined in the fun. His abs, row by row, popping out from beneath his ribcage: Two, four, six, eight, then proceeding to swell back to their former size to match the new amount of room they had to inhabit. His lats, on the other hand, pushed the sides of his shirt outward as they flaired and returned the broad v-shape to his torso.

Art watched as Michael's thighs began to inflate at the same time as the bulge at his crotch became noticeable again. His quads blew up like balloons, causing his jeans to regain their tantalizing snugness as his cock and balls swelled prominently into view through the denim. The change slowed as Michael looked down at his new old body. He had become a much taller version of what he looked like at the beginning of the change.

"This is awesome, Arty! Ican't believe this actually worked."

Art looked over Michael's bod, and smiled slowly as he looked at Michael's face. "Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet..."

Michael frowned, uncomprenensive. "What do you mean?"

Art only smiled, and Michael gasped as a feeling more intense than anything before washed over him. The stretching noise returned louder and Michael's neck began to swell once again.... •