Colin Michaels hated waiting.
He hated being outsped by someone with an obvious advantage even more. Both he and his best friend Tom Walton had gotten into bodybuilding at roughly the same time. Colin had been the runningback on the high school football team before he took a hit that made him leave the team in 9th grade. He was a lean built, six foot tall guy, handsome, with dark brown eyes and black hair. Whereas Tom was more or less the nice guy next door - blond, slate gray-blue eyed, boyish and thin though not too unimpressive. By all rights, Colin thought, he should have maintained something of an edge over Tom. He looked forward to guiding the guy through the motions throughout their time in the fitness community.
That was not what ended up happening, Colin mused distastefully as he splashed some water in his face. The gym was pretty empty tonight. They were due to workout. It was about three years since they started, and both were taking an off year before they went off to college. Colin had put on a decent amount of muscle, that was clear. He had strong, broad shoulders, muscular pectorals, a decently wide back, but slightly lacking rear delts. His abs were more thin boy abs rather than the beefy, built abs he saw on instagram. And he wasn't sure about his legs.
That was all in contrast to the absolute monster that Tom had become.
In the course of those same three years, Tom had somehow massively increased his size. The formerly gangly six foot three inch 140 lbs boy most people only remembered for his kindly temperament had become an overmuscled behemoth. Tom would show up to the gym, and everybody'd know it. People wanted selfies with Tom. His blond hair was still bushy, dorky, and disorderly, but his face seemed much more masculine.
His deltoids looked like boulders, and his arms easily pushed past eighteen inches, biceps and triceps fighting for room.
Even his forearms seemed so much more beefy, hands calloused and rough.
Tom's back was insane, striated and pocked from treatment for something that laid bare exactly what Tom used to get there quite so fast. What made it even easier to see was the developments in Tom's chest. Broad, powerfully built and yet, his nipples were quite pronounced - and whenever he benched, Tom was careful not to have the bar touch his chest. As far as could be told, they were quite sensitive. Gyno. Another sign of steroid use.
And yet, for the sake of Tom's burgeoning audience on his YouTube and his Instagram, which functioned as vital sources of his income now, @TommyBoyLifts had to be absolutely natural. So he was very guarded whenever the subject came up. He couldn't afford to display honesty. Even to an old friend.
"Hey man, glad to see you in here!" And there was the man the myth the infuriating legend. Tom entered wearing a red bomber jacket over a tight new black tank-top, tight black shorts that flattered his well muscled ass, and sneaker shoes. "Thought you might be busy with your job over at...uh, Lucille's, right? You do restaurant deliveries, right? Sorry if I'm prying or forgetting here."
"Yeah, not everyone can be a YouTuber." Colin answered tersely. And on top of everything, Tom still acted every bit nice. He either had the self control of a sage to not show his roid rage so easy, or it was all just a myth to console people.
"Hey, you could! You're putting in a lot of hard work, and you're looking great, man!" Tom answered, as always trying to be mr. nice guy. Colin had to believe it was a front. That deep down, Tom had anger issues now from basically dosing like a fiend. And honestly, Colin hoped he could prove or see decisively that Tom wasn't Mr. Dreamboat all the time.
"Uhh, thanks. Let's get ready for the lifts today. Honestly, with as big as you are..." Colin said, "I'm surprised you're still lifting with me."
"Dude, you're my best friend. You got me into the gym in the first place. I don't have any room for ANY other person as my workout partner." Tom answered as he peeled off his bomber jacket, tossed it in a locker, and started stretching. Fuck, Colin thought, I'm straight as can be...I think. But the steroids really, really agree with this fucking guy. ...Could I really go queer for Tom? Nah. Nah!
Colin shook his head, and before long the two of them went out to go hit the gym.
-------------------
Well, that could've gone better.
Tom had crushed him as usual. In every single lift, it seemed like Tom outclassed him. And even when it looked like he might get to see roid raging Tom - when some guy cut in front to get on the bench press for a set - it seemed like Tom just...took a minute, and said, "Oh, just a set? It's fine. Go ahead!" Yet again, no hint of Tommy-boy's aggression. What's more, it turned out as the two talked through their workout that Tom had been busy. The exact right kind of busy.
With a blush and a smile, Tom regaled an increasingly jealous Colin about the romantic misadventures he'd been on.
How he went on a date with a beautiful, assertive woman who made him flex his muscles while she touched, slapped and pinched each one before giving him oral sex.
How he went to a bar, and hit it off with a quiet woman who brightened up and became more involved in the back of Tom's car. According to Tom, he had to really be careful back there when the two of them rolled around trying to sort out who'd ride who. Ultimately, Tom let her push his cock into her pussy, and ride him till his emission.
And so on and so forth. So on top of everything else, while Colin got action, Tom just got so much more action! His jealousy simmered into a sexual dimension that Colin had never really explored before. He could not stop himself, during the workout, from looking at Tom and thinking how this even-tempered, good young guy had no right to be as sexually powerful as he was. Surely there'd be some hint of the roids in the act! Surely Tom'd show his aggression THERE!
He didn't even think of the homoerotic implications of his fixation upon Tom's sex life. He just saw it as yet again Tom trying to assert which of the two was more successful.
Thus leaving the ruminating, quiet and simmering Colin to not see the woman on his way back to his place. She had been it seemed heading back from the flea market just downtown. There was always a flea market there on the weekend. A curio place, open for those looking to find some odds and ends. He'd heard strange stories about it. About things people could find there that didn't exist elsewhere... but he hadn't paid heed to it.
"Ah, sorry about that. Didn't see you there." He apologized.
She seemed old, withered, like the crone sort of witch. Less the vivacious young witch or the ugly wart-strewn creature, but more the elder. The coven maven. She walked with the aid of a gnarled stick, her skin leathery and tanned, thin as a set of twigs. He was actually worried running into her might hurt her! She had a bag swaying over her shoulder, which looked to contain some sort of little tokens and items that likely came from the flea market.
But it didn't. She instead just chuckled, "Oh, I was so concentrated on something else, I barely saw you too, sonny...oh. Oh my. You do look bright, young and healthy. Very nice work done!"
"Thanks..." It swelled Colin's confidence to hear anyone - even this old woman - compliment him. "...I'm nothing compared to my friend though."
"...Is that so?" She quizzically tilted her head, and shook her head, "It does not do to have such a perspective, dear boy. Such a sad thing, that you can't see your own gifts over the seized benefits of your comrade."
"Hard not to," Colin stuffed his hands in his pockets, "He's enormous, he's successful, he's got everything he needs and I'm---I'm just not anywhere near---"
"Now, I won't hear you beat yourself up any more, do you hear me?" She said in a strangely authoritative voice, "You owned up to our meeting, and tolerate this old woman's banter. Perhaps...you too deserve something of a helping hand. It is only fair."
"If you're gonna offer me steroids, somehow, someway..." Colin started, only for her to chuckle.
"No, no, no little vials and needles, like what dear Tommy boy uses," she easily hoisted her bag and started looking through the esoteric belongings within it. Rustling and looking for something that applied to the current situation. She then whistled, "Ahh yes, here it is!" She pulled out a wristband, silvery in color, with a red jewel inlaid at the middle. This just made Colin tilt his head in response.
"...A...wristband...?" Colin examined it, leaning forward. "What do you---? And how did you---?"
"Oh, do I need to fully explain everything?" She chuckled mirthfully, tapping her walking stick on the ground, "I...am a witch, dear boy. An old one. How else did I know your friend's name?"
Colin wondered if he hit his head at some point, or if the old lady was just insane. "A...witch...?"
"Oh yes, fly on my broom...well, I did, before I got a little too old for it. Hell on the hips, I'll tell you!" She chuckled darkly before sighing, "This is about as old as I get, but it doesn't get any easier. So...if you believe me, excellent..." She shrugged, "And if you don't, fine. Why not just humor a rambling old dame and try out her lucky charm?"
Colin figured he did have remarkably little to lose. So he nodded and said, "Uh, thanks. Yeah...I'll just, I'll just go with it." He took the wristband from her, and tried it on. He found that with some adjustment it fit him remarkably well. No hint of any old magic, or witchcraft, or any sign of something strange going on. Just...a really nice, gem-inlaid wide wristband.
The old witch nodded, "Now, I must warn you. My magic is potent, and while this stands to give you much, you should also respect it. Once you have what you need, take off the band. As long as it rests on your arm, its effect will continue. Do not test it's capacities beyond your comfort."
"Whatever you say, I'll remember to not test it." Colin figured he'd humor her - but not much beyond that. "Thanks for the band, Miss...?"
"Doris. Doris Creedy." And with that, she happily spun on her feet and continued on her way. And Colin continued on home. Eager to get back, have his protein shake post-workout, and see if there was any truth to that old lady's rambling. Honestly, if so much as wearing a little wristband could catch him up to Tom, he would be fine with it. There was not much to lose here just by humoring her and wearing it, and a lot to prospectively gain if she was telling the truth - as implausibly as it seemed.
By the time Colin got home, he checked his phone and saw a new photo from Tom on instagram...
And of course, beautiful Instagram Influencer chicks were getting thirsty over his barechested glory pumping iron at the gym. Sure he'd play the good boy, chaste and smiling and nice on camera, but that only seemed to fuel his fans. Colin just couldn't wait - he looked down at the wristband. He hoped whatever it did, it'd do that tonight. Already, ten minutes after the post, Tom's post had something like 4000 likes, and so, so many thirsty comments from women and men alike.
If I was the queer type of guy, Colin told himself, I'd have bent Tommy boy over by now.
As Colin went about his nightly routine, still none the wiser about the nature of his musings and how deep he dwelled within the closet, he didn't even see the gem on his new accessory glimmering brightly. Even as he went to bed, he kept it on. Eager to see, in the morning, if there was some sort of effect...