Ethan parked in the driveway, the car positioned at a haphazard angle—the usual result when Ethan was behind the wheel. He stepped out, then unloaded two bags of groceries from the trunk, an extra chore his mother had assigned him in exchange for car privileges. He had begun to enjoy the trips after he discovered that one of the local markets had a particularly hunky stockboy who worked weekends—the opportunity to ogle Pascual was worth the extra drive to get to that particular store.
After unloading the groceries and stocking them in the pantry and refrigerator, Ethan headed out of the kitchen, intending to go to his room. But something caught his eye as he passed the den: a pair of feet. He poked his head in, eyes widening as he saw his stepfather lying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.
Ethan rushed in, kneeling next to the man his mother had married. “Dirk? Dirk are you okay?” he asked, worried. He reached out and shook the man’s shoulder. He was surprised by the firm lump of muscle under the shirt. In fact, looking his stepfather over, he couldn’t help but notice that Dirk’s clothes were looking a little tight—and it wasn’t a bad look at all. Ethan had always thought the man his mother married was a bit on the skinny side, much like himself, but for the first time, it seemed like there could be something hot about Dirk… and his mom…
Ethan shook his head. Yuck! He was not prepared to think about his mom and stepdad doing… anything bedroom related. Nope. Especially not imagining what Dirk must look like with his clothes off, his fit body passionately intertwined with his wife’s…
Ethan blinked a few times, driving away the straightest sexual fantasy he’d had in years.
“Are you okay, Ethan?” Dirk asked. Ethan looked down in surprise. His stepfather’s eyes were open and looked concerned. “You’re not having a fit or something, are you?” his stepfather followed up.
“N- no. Nothing like that,” Ethan stammered back. “I just saw you here and wondered if you were okay,” he explained.
“Perfectly fine!” Dirk responded, sitting up without using his arms, just relying on his abs. He grinned broadly. “Was just watching a video. Guess I fell asleep.” He stood up, moving with greater ease than he had in the last few years. He held out a hand to Ethan, who was still on his knees.
Ethan took the offered arm and allowed himself to be pulled up. He couldn’t help but notice the way that Dirk’s bicep bulged against his shirtsleeve as he helped Ethan to his feet. As his stepfather stood upright, Ethan got another shock: the man was clearly more muscled than before, his clothes taut against a more powerful body.
“Uh, glad you’re okay, Dirk,” Ethan offered. Suddenly he felt sheepish. Asleep watching a video. Why had he immediately assumed it was something more serious? He laughed. “I should worry less and think things through more, I guess.”
“A good instinct,” Dirk grinned back, “You’re young, but if you stick to it, you’ll be a wise man someday, Ethan. You’re pretty observant. Put that to use.” The older man walked past, heading for the kitchen. “I’m thinking of whipping up a protein-packed lunch. Interested?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Ethan replied. Protein-packed? Like father, like son, apparently. He turned and resumed heading for his room. But something nagged at his mind. Brad first, and now Dirk. They were… suddenly changing? No, that was ridiculous! What was that thing called again? Occam's razor? That sounded right. Simpler explanations were usually better than complex ones. Impossible changes in days? The answer to that was the word “impossible.” It was much more likely that they had both been working out for some time without Ethan really noticing. After all, the changes would be slow, and day-to-day there would be few noticeable changes. Then a few months later, bam!—suddenly the changes are noticeable. That had to be it! Anything else would be a transformation fantasy story, and while Ethan enjoyed those quite a bit, it was simply not the sort of thing that actually happened.
Ethan closed the door to his room behind him and pulled out his phone as he flopped down on his bed. Maybe it was time that he started to work out? Brad and Dirk clearly had been working on their bodies and the results were starting to show. He couldn’t deny that they were increasingly nice to look at. Then he smiled as he thought of his trip to the grocery store and a different beefcake came to mind. He wondered what gym Pascual went to…
-
Brad sauntered into the kitchen, wearing one of his new stringers. It was royal blue and covered more than some, but was also more form-fitting; the straps hugged his pecs and the danger of nip-slippage was minimal. He’d hoped that Janet would stay for lunch, but she was dead set on researching “Vertael” and had headed straight for the library after dropping Brad off at home.
“Smells good!” Brad exclaimed, approaching his father from behind as the older man stood at the stove, cooking. Unconsciously, he noted that Dirk’s shoulders seemed a bit broader, a bit fuller.
“It is good!” his father laughed, “Grilled chicken breasts, steamed broccoli, and brown rice.” Every part of the meal was seasoned to enhance flavor and complement what else was on the plate, but without adding too many “dirty” calories.
“That’s perfect, dad, I can’t wait! I’m starving!” Brad added enthusiastically, before sitting down at the table. A moment later, two meals were on the table, one for each man.
“Eat up,” Dirk said, smiling as he sat down to his own plate. “Got to keep the muscles fed, right? No point in killing ourselves at the gym just to let nutrition slide.”
“Damn straight, dad,” Brad replied through a mouthful of chicken breast. “Well, until ‘cheat meal’ time, anyway,” he added, grinning.
Dirk laughed as he ate his own healthy repast. “Enjoy your youth, son. Cheat meals aren’t nearly as easily forgiven at my age.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brad laughed.
Father and son continued their banter as they ate, discussing gym routines, supplements, recovery time, and more. It all felt so familiar, even though they’d never had such a discussion before.
After they finished the meal and put the dishes away, Dirk commented, “I have to say, Brad, that new tank top really shows off your upper body. Clearly you’ve been making some gains!”
“You bet!” Brad replied spiritedly. After a moment’s pause, he lifted the hem up to show his abs, then decided to keep going, pulling the shirt off entirely. “Been really growing, lately!”
“Clearly!” Dirk replied. He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and removed his own shirt, revealing an athletic torso with noticeable mounds of lean muscle.
-
Ethan stopped short as he approached the kitchen. He could hear Brad and Dirk’s voices inside, as well as the occasional grunt. The wordless sounds were enough to give Ethan pause. He cautiously peeked around the corner, worried that he might be dragooned into helping clean up some huge mess that he had no part in creating!
What Ethan saw instead was his stepbrother and stepfather, each shirtless, flexing and comparing their muscled torsos, commenting on each other’s physiques, and generally being very unlike what Ethan would recognize as the family his mother had married into. He watched for a bit, from the shadows, taking in the surreal scene of the father-son flex-off.
The moment he felt his dick begin to stir Ethan backed away. He retreated on silent feet, confused by what he was feeling. The disorientation he had experienced at the beginning of breakfast returned—who was this hunky thing and what had he done with Ethan’s stepbrother?!
There had to be more going on. Ethan’s mind whirled, his suspicion level dialed up to eleven. He remembered when Billy Watson from the senior class at school started juicing—although Billy’s gains were impressive, they were not overnight. Not like Dirk and Brad. What was happening to the other men in the house? Why them and not him? Was the cause related to their shared home, or was it from a separate source? Was it genetic? Viral? Bacterial? Alien abduction and replacement???
Ethan closed the door to his room and sat down at his computer. He could not afford flights of fancy. He had to be rational, logical. That morning, he had noticed changes in Brad—his stepbrother had been flirtier, more willing to show off. The elephant in the room was that Brad suddenly had so much more to show. None of it should be possible. None of it made sense. Cross country runners did not suddenly become bodybuilders between Friday and Sunday.
He would get to the bottom of this, Ethan resolved. Occam’s razor be damned! Impossible things were happening all around him and he would not rest until he knew what they were and why they were happening.
Ethan brought up a browser and commenced his new research project. He began with internet searches. “Sudden muscle growth” and “overnight bodybuilder” led to results about myostatin mutations and overnight oats recipes. More searching led to workout plans that promised seemingly impossible “gains,” ads for gyms, and more. But none of it was what Ethan was looking for. Frustrated, his searches began to veer into more familiar territory: transformation stories. Maybe there would be a clue in there? Some piece of fiction that might hold more than a grain of truth?
But the only thing that Ethan found in those erotic tales was arousal. Stories of men becoming hunkier and hotter? Yes, please! The fact that stepdad Dirk and stepbro Brad seemed to be living out one of those stories certainly didn’t help. Ethan’s cock throbbed insistently in his pants.
He stood up and walked over to the long mirror that hung off of his closet door. He looked good, Ethan thought. Lean and slender, sure. But still, a nice package overall. Sweat was trickling down from one temple. Frustrated, he pulled off his shirt, the mirror showing him his bare torso, faint muscle under thin skin, his low bodyfat hiding little. He wasn’t muscular, he knew. Just somewhat fit. And rather lean. Almost skinny.
Looking at his abs, Ethan felt a twinge of dissatisfaction. They were subtly visible, sure. But they were so… flat. Thinking of Brad’s midsection, Ethan couldn’t help but be envious of his stepbrother’s more rounded abs, which definitely had a bit more muscle mass under the skin. A finger traced down Ethan’s stomach, feeling the ridges and valleys created by his anatomy. Even though it was his own digit, Ethan felt a bit of a thrill from the touch; his dick, which had been quieting as he pondered his reflection, sprung back to life.
Ethan didn’t worry about the physical reaction he had to his own touch. His concerns were elsewhere: Dirk and Brad. Why were they changing so dramatically? And then there was the question that troubled Ethan even more.
“Why not me?” he queried under his breath. His reflection offered no answers. He would have to find them some other way.