Zach woke with the sudden need to go to the bathroom, just not for the normal reasons. Unless one normally wakes up with a raging hangover. He got to his feet and stumbled across the room, banging into the door frame and taking a few minutes to get the door open before stumbling through into the tiled bathroom. He didn't even bother flipping on the lights as he bent over the toilet and purged himself of what remained from last night's revelry. It wasn't something new to him, he and Ron often drank themselves sick, but Zach didn't usually have hangovers this bad.
He grasped for the lever to flush the toilet and only then did he really see his arm through his likely blood shot eyes and the dim light filtering from the other room. Something was distinctly wrong with it, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He patted along the wall until he found the light switch and flicked it on, squinting against the sudden harsh glare off the white tiles.
As soon as his eyes adjusted and he felt he could stand without a wave of dizziness he got himself in front of the mirror. Looking at his reflection it was suddenly very clear what was wrong. His shirt, previously tight around his midsection where he never got rid of that freshmen fifteen, was now tight around his chest and a bit looser at his stomach. He could even see the line of pecs through the fabric, he lifted his shirt and exposed a set of taught abs with a line of dark hair going up the middle. A few more inches of his shirt lifted and he saw where the dark hair spread out in a light dusting across his chest, something else he didn't have when he fell asleep last night. The sudden increase in muscle had also gone into his arms and legs, even his hands seemed larger, what has tipped him off something was wrong.
Even his face was different, it was still him. It wasn't a stranger looking back a him in the mirror, it was just a more idealized him. If genetics had been a little kinder. And he had to admit, the dark stubble across his jaw, something that had only come to him in patches before, looked hot. He suddenly realized what he thought, even felt the stirring in his pants. He was turning himself on. And if the bulge pushing out from his jeans was any indication his muscles weren't the only thing to get bigger.
A retching noise in the other room brought him back to reality and he peaked his head out of the bathroom. Ron was sitting on the bed, cradling a trashcan between his hands. It looked like the same changes had come over Ron, except instead of Zach's dark hair it was in Ron's blond. And it still looked like Ron, but as with Zach, he just looked like a sexier Ron. There was that thought again, and he felt his cock pushing even harder against the fabric of his jeans.
Was he really thinking about his friend that way? Though as Ron finally looked up and over to Zach there was a moment of confusion on his friends face, then a small realization, then even scarier a return look of what must be on his own. The same look he had seen on Ron's face when they checked out hot women at bars. Not when they checked out each other. Part of Zach wanted to run over to his friend, another wanted to run out of the room, now. Go back to the bar and find out what the hell happened.