Tyrone grinned as he leaned back in Jeff’s computer chair, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The room was tense, with Mikey fidgeting nervously on the edge of Jeff’s bed, his legs swinging just above the floor. Jeff stood behind Tyrone, arms crossed and scowling.
“You better not mess this up, Ty,” Jeff muttered. “You’re barely old enough to handle yourself, let alone this crazy program.”
“Relax, Jeff,” Tyrone replied without looking up. “I know what I’m doing.” He typed in a few more adjustments, his grin widening as he read over his settings. “There! Let’s see who’s in charge now.” With a dramatic flourish, he clicked “Confirm.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Tyrone’s body began to stretch and grow. His shoulders broadened, and his frame filled out with lean muscle. His clothes shifted, morphing into a well-fitted button-up shirt and dark slacks, giving him the appearance of a sharp-dressed adult. A slight shadow of stubble appeared on his jawline, and his voice deepened as he let out a surprised laugh.
“Whoa,” he said, examining his hands and flexing his new biceps. “This is... awesome!” He turned to the mirror, giving himself an approving nod. At 40 years old, Tyrone now towered over both Jeff and Mikey.
Mikey’s mouth fell open. “T-Tyrone? What did you do?!” he squeaked, his voice cracking with the high pitch of a 10-year-old.
Tyrone turned to face them, his newfound height and confidence radiating from his posture. “It’s Mr. Davis to you, Mikey,” he teased, ruffling Mikey’s hair. “Guess who’s the man of the house now?”
Jeff narrowed his eyes. “Oh, give me a break. You’re still a kid, Ty. Just because you look older doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing.”
Tyrone raised an eyebrow, looking down at Jeff with a smirk. “Funny. You’re the one who told me to take this seriously. And now, I’m in charge. So maybe it’s time for you to listen to me, son.”
“son?!” Jeff snapped. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to call you dad or anything like that.”
“Suit yourself,” Tyrone said, shrugging. “But I think it’s pretty clear who’s calling the shots.” He turned his attention to Mikey, who shrank under his gaze. “And as for you, Mikey, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. I mean, someone has to, right?”
“I... I don’t know about this,” Mikey stammered, his small hands clutching at the hem of his Spider-Man shirt. “I was the dad! I should…”
“Should what?” Tyrone interrupted, crouching down to look Mikey in the eye. “You’re ten years old now. You don’t need to worry about grown-up stuff anymore. That’s my job.”
Jeff threw up his hands. “This is ridiculous. Ty, you’re acting like some wannabe sitcom dad. Just admit you’re doing this to mess with us.”
“Maybe I am,” Tyrone said with a grin. “But it’s still pretty fun watching you squirm.” He stood up and clapped his hands together. “Alright, enough arguing. Mikey’s looking a little worn out. I think it’s time for bed.”
Mikey’s eyes widened. “What? No! I’m not tired!”
“Oh, come on,” Tyrone said, scooping the smaller boy up into a fatherly hold with ease. “You’ve had a long day. Don’t worry; I’ll tuck you in nice and cozy.”
“Put me down!” Mikey squealed, kicking his legs in protest.
Jeff crossed his arms, glaring at Tyrone. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Tyrone gave Jeff a smug smile. “Hey, someone’s gotta step up. And since you’re clearly not ready to handle the responsibility, I guess it’s all on me.” He carried Mikey out of the room, leaving Jeff behind to fume.
As Tyrone walked down the hall, Mikey’s protests turned into tired grumbles. By the time they reached Tyrone's old kids room, the little boy’s energy had all but drained away. Tyrone set him down gently on the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.
“See? Not so bad, right?” Tyrone said, ruffling Mikey’s hair again.
Mikey frowned but didn’t pull away. “This is so weird,” he muttered. “You’re my son, Ty. You’re supposed to listen to me.”
“Well, for the next couple of days, I’m the one in charge,” Tyrone said with a chuckle. “Just relax, Mikey. You might even have fun.”
Mikey sighed, his eyelids growing heavy. “This better not last longer than 48 hours,” he mumbled.
Tyrone smiled as he stood up, turning off the light. “Goodnight, kiddo,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.
Back in the hall, Jeff was waiting, arms still crossed. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”
“What can I say?” Tyrone replied with a shrug. “It’s nice being the one in charge for once. Now, why don’t you help me clean up the kitchen before Mom gets home?”
Jeff groaned, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, ‘Dad.’” with a smirk on his face