“Now I understand why I’m so big,” said Tom as Beto led him down a hallway and into a small apartment. Beto peeled off his shirt and rummaged in a cabinet for two towels.
“He definitely took after his mom’s side,” said Beto. “His mom is 6’3” on her own.”
Tom stared at the enormously muscular middle-aged man in front of him. Beto’s body had started to soften a bit with age, but you could tell that beneath the slight fat (and the enormous quantity of chest hair) was muscle that had provided for a family for decades.
“What did Nick like to do besides football?” asked Tom. “I’m asking because I seem to have inherited some of his skills and likes and dislikes.”
“He used to come work with me, especially if we were working drywall, because he—you—he—uh… was so tall, we didn’t need a ladder. And he used to hang around with his friends, play video games. He used to go mountain biking but he outgrew his bike and we couldn’t afford a new one. The life of a business owner and a construction worker I guess,” said Beto, lowering his jeans. Tom tried not to stare, but realized that maybe he took after Beto in some ways as well.
“You know I’m an attorney. Or I was. I built a big career with a fancy office in Manhattan. If I can help in some way, help Rita get her business expanding or help you with connections for work…” he continued as he shucked off his own shirt.
“I appreciate it,” said Beto as he disappeared into the shower, “but we’re just happy that Nicolás’ body was able to be useful. While you wait for the shower, Nick’s dresser is over in the corner and he has some things hanging in the closet. Pick something for today, but you can take it all.”
Tom walked over to the closet and picked a pair of jeans from a hanger. On the floor were shoes, including a huge pair of Dan Post steel toe work boots. He picked a random t-shirt from a drawer, more underwear, boot socks, and a soft, slightly torn hoodie with “Martínez Construction” in faded letters written on it.
When he heard the shower turn off, he headed toward the bathroom with the clothes. Beto had left him a towel and washcloth. Tom climbed into the shower and immediately hit his head hard on the sloped ceiling. “Chit!” he yelled.
“Careful of the ceiling,” called Beto. “You’re taller than you used to be. Good thing you can finish growing in a place where you fit!”
Tom, meanwhile, was discovering that squats and deadlifts spike a man’s testosterone. His cock demanded attention. So as quietly as he could, he soaped up his hand and started jerking off as only a teenager can. His huge brown hand was no match for the length of his cock, and he thought, if I’m still growing… am I still growing everywhere? Just then, he came with a series of soft grunts. Cleaning up his splatter, he washed his body until his cock went soft, then dried off, ran a hand through his hair, and got dressed.
Beto was waiting for him at the stairs.
“You know,” said Beto, “if you want something to do this summer besides workout and play football, we could use some extra hands. And you look the part. I’ll pay you the same as I would pay anyone else on my crew and you can learn the trade, or access Nick’s memories.”
“That sounds great,” said Tom. “But can I ask you a question? Was Nick… involved with anyone?”
“He said he had a girlfriend but we never met her. I don’t think he had one. I think maybe he liked boys. But he would never tell me. I think he thought I would not accept it,” said Beto. “He spent a lot of time with a kid from school named José.”
“That explains a lot,” said Tom as they carried bags of clothing and shoes down the stairs.