“Definitely no need to go drastically younger on the first run, ya know?” Clark suggested. “Why not compete with the fourth and fifth graders?”
Nick raised a curious brow, pondering this possibility.
“Besides,” Clark continued. “It’d be maybe a little bit too weird if a 5-year-old were as smart as a 28-year-old with as much science knowledge as you.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Nick finally agreed. “I’ve really gotta test out this gun at some point, and I wouldn’t wanna be too young in case something were to happen, ya know?”
Clark examined the flier for the date of the competition. “Looks like you’ve got two days to prepare for the competition. Think you can do it?”
Nick was confident. “Of course, I can! Honestly, I won’t even need to really prepare anything. I’ve got a couple older projects from college that I can show up with. Wouldn’t even require any prep work.” Nick added pensively, “Really, the hardest part would be adjusting to being in a younger body, so I should probably spend the next couple of days doing that just so I’m not totally out of it for the competition.”
Clark was visibly excited. “Sick, dude! Okay, just lemme know if there’s anything I can do to help out for the next two days. It’s the weekend anyway, so neither of us will have anything to do, and we can both just take work off on Monday for the competition.”
“Well,” Nick started. “I’ll definitely need some clothes, and you might need to help with meals. Other than that, we can probably just chill. I’d rather not be fully on display in public until I’m feeling a bit more adjusted to the younger body.”
“Alright man, say no more.” Clark couldn’t hide his eagerness to help. “I needed to grab a few things from Target anyway, so lemme grab you some clothes while I’m at it, and I’ll meet you at home. How’s that?”
Nick asked, “Are you sure? I can definitely buy my own clothes.”
“Of course, dude; don’t worry about it!” Clark got up from his seat before adding, “Wait, how old are you gonna be again?”
“Uh, about 11? The gun isn’t perfectly calibrated yet, so it won’t be exact,” Nick replied.
“Sound good. See you at home!”
---
Back in his room at their apartment, Nick was turning the regression gun in his hands. Man, if anything goes wrong with this, I’m seriously fucked, he thought. Nick knew that his science was sound. There was little chance, if any, of something going wrong. The gun would regress him to 11, and he’d spend the weekend and Monday as a kid, come back with $1000 in hand, and finally age back up to 28. He’d gain valuable insight into the regression process, and a little extra cash certainly wouldn’t hurt.
Nick surveyed himself in the mirror. A moderately-kempt beard adorned his face. Nick mulled over the potential for disaster but was snapped out of it when he heard the apartment door open.
“Hey.” Clark threw a shopping bag in Nick’s direction as Nick exited his room. “Hope ya like what I got for ya.”
Nick caught the bag and held it out at arm’s length, eyeing it suspiciously. “Is there any reason I wouldn’t?”
Clark responded casually, “Oh ya know; I just wanted to really sell the whole, ‘being 11 again’ thing for you.”
“Uhhh, okay, I guess.” Nick set the bag down at his door. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem, dude,” Clark replied. The two stood awkwardly for a moment before Clark interrupted. “Sooo… you gonna do it now?”
Nick raised a brow at the question. “I mean I guess I don’t have any reason to wait. Why? Did you wanna watch or something?”
Clark’s eyes lit up. “Can I?! I—”
Nick interjected, “Haha, how about you just wait outside the door, and I’ll call you in when it’s done. I have to be naked for this, so it might be nice to have just a little privacy.”
Clark’s expression sunk, but he kept his optimistic demeanor. “Okay, man whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll be here.”
“Sounds good,” Nick said as he grabbed the shopping bag on his way into his room, closing the door behind him.
Nick set the bag down in front of the mirror and grabbed the regression gun. Well, here we go. He elected to remove his clothes for the regression in order to fully observe the process in action. First his t-shirt, then the jeans, and finally his boxer-briefs were stripped off and folded into a pile on the floor, and there Nick stood in front of the mirror. He found himself admiring his body for what he hoped wouldn’t be the last time.
He set the number on the digital screen of the gun to 11, held the gun aimed at himself, and pulled the trigger.
Immediately, what Nick noticed was that he didn’t really feel much of anything, at least nothing as drastic as he’d expected. He was losing inches off his height quite rapidly, but nothing about it felt especially disorienting. Just in the same way that you never really notice yourself growing up incrementally day by day, Nick suspected that the brain compensated in a similar fashion here but in an observable real time.
He moved his hands to his face as he reached what he assumed was bout 16-years-old, and his beard thinned before it finally receded. He’d lost most of his body hair by now and ample muscle mass, but he was never especially toned to begin with. What struck him was the dwindling of his manhood as he gazed down in the mirror, having reversed past 13. Of course, he’d expected it, but the anticipation didn’t do much to ease his disappointment at finding himself on the less enticing side of puberty, finally having reached 11, where he wouldn’t be participating in his favorite pastime for at least another year or so.
“Well, I guess that’s it.” Nick said to himself, thrown off for just a moment by how clearly prepubescent he now sounded.
Before he could further react to his new body, the door to Nick’s room opened suddenly. “So you’re all done?!” Clark exclaimed.
Nick, not quite ready for Clark to see him like this, quickly threw his hands down, shielding his boyhood. “Dude! I’m not even dressed yet!” Nick barked angrily.
Clark moved his head behind the door but kept it open. “Oh, shit! Sorry. I heard you say something and thought you were ready,” Clark apologized. “Anyway, everything go okay?”
Nick inspected his body once more in the mirror, turning a bit to fully observe his reduced form. “Umm, I guess? I’m not really sure what could’ve gone wrong, but I’m definitely 11.”
“How does it feel? Or how did it feel while it was happening?!” Clark questioned through the crack of narrowly open door.
Nick grabbed the shopping bag from in front of the mirror. “At least let me get dressed, dude. One sec.”
“Haha sure,” Clark replied.
Nick reached into the bag to find several graphic tees depicting superheroes, as well as characters from video games that he wasn’t familiar with. Accompanying the shirts were shorts and jeans that looked way too small, but Nick chalked it up to not being fully adjusted to his new size. Finally, Nick pulled out a pack of white socks and the underwear.
He held the pack of underwear up for inspection before opening it. A mildly dissatisfied look spread across his face, one that Clark could hear in his voice, “Mannn, reallyyyy?”
“What’s up?” Clark asked.
Desperate to cover up, Nick stepped into the boy’s white briefs that Clark had selected for him. Nick laughed a bit, easing up on his disappointed tone, “Dude you know I wear boxer-briefs. Why’d you get me tighty whities?”
Clark replied, with a laugh, “Haha, sorry, man. I’ve known you since we were kids, and that’s what you wore back then. We both did.”
Nick pulled the underwear all the way up, the waistband snapping against his smaller tummy. The boy’s briefs fit snugly around his 11-year-old reduced form and diminished manhood.
“Besides,” Clark continued, “I thought all the clothes in there would really get you into the 11-year-old mindset. Why not have fun with it for the weekend?”
Clark pushed the door open a bit to peer in. “See, you’re adorable,” Clark tried but failed to stifle a giggle.
Nick and Clark had been more than comfortable seeing each other in their underwear over the years; Clark seldom bothered to wear more than just his boxers even with guests coming over. But Nick felt especially vulnerable in his boyish body, and standing there in nothing but white briefs, Nick felt every inch the boy that he had become. Nonetheless, he tried to conceal his discomfort to rob Clark of the pleasure of embarrassing him.
“Ha! You wish you were half the man that I am, even now!” Nick retorted, playfully flexing his shrunken biceps to really sell the façade.
Clark countered, “Oh yeah? Well since you’re so confident...” He pulled out his phone before Nick could really react and snapped a quick picture of his reduced friend in nothing but his underwear. “Guess you wouldn’t mind this uploaded anywhere, huh?!”
Nick understood that the threat was probably empty. Clark wasn’t that kind of person. But to spare himself further embarrassment, Nick began to dress himself in the other childish apparel he’d been stuck with.
“Yeah, yeah, you won’t,” Nick stuck his tongue out at Clark as he pulled on a pair of shorts, his briefs finally out of view.
“Yeah,” Clark said, “probably not.” He put his phone away in his pocket before adding, “So what are we doing for the rest of the night?”
“Hmmm…” Nick replied as he pulled a superhero-emblazoned shirt over his head, “how about…”