The freshly young scientist was overtaken by another sensation.
"Oh god, I'm not going to get younger, am I?" Rick said through a gasp. He hunched over the sink, investigating his face, looking for signs of impending youth. His clothing, now baggy on his slimmer figure hid what was really going on.
Brendon didn't know what to make of it. This kid was Rick? What had he done in that lab. He tried to figure it out. As he stared at Rick, he noticed something. Something small. Subtle. Did Rick's butt look bigger?
Rick kept looking for any little change in his face, ignoring the tingling feeling spreading across his body. Beneath the billowy fabric, he was starting to grow. A thin layer of fat was growing across his body, thickening slowly at first, but the swelling was picking up with each second. Soon, Rick could feel it. A tiny wobble on his midsection as he moved about the sink. He went white. Lifted his shirt, exposing a belly growing.
Brendon looked down, seeing the slowly growing dome of Rick's stomach. His eyes widened. "Holy shit! No fucking way! You're actually changing?!" He shouted. Then it hit him "Shit man, what if you're contagious?!" He said backing up into the shower and closing the door in a panic, as if that might help.
Rick stammered a bit, unsure of what to even say as his body plumped. Now chubby, still growing. "I.. I doubt I am. I mean, it was a gas I released, not a virus." His hands fell to his stomach, feeling it's shape and size, and how it bristled past his fingertips as it grew. His chest changing too, thickening and threatening to fold over. He guessed he must have gained 40 or 50 pounds already. He was getting fat... His clothing beginning to fit again, only briefly as it started to tighten.
"Bullshit!" Brendon shouted from behind the glass door. "I know I piss you off. You were probably working on some weird ass chemical to turn me into a porker to humiliate me or something. Well, joke's on you! You're gonna be the fat ass instead!" He said in a mocking tone as he watched young Rick plumping in front of him. His clothes constricting around his growing body.
The tingling became a pressure spreading across Rick's body. He moaned silently and leaned on the sink, one hand on his growing stomach. He looked down over his now fat chest, how his shirt was conformed to it, folding under what he could only call breasts. He had love handles. He'd never had those in his life! His thighs were touching, popping seams on his slacks. A button strained and popped off, hitting a tile with enough force to chip it. The zipper straining to keep together. The force of his expanding ass pulling the fabric in front apart. A tear inched it's way up his sides, his shirt pulling open underneath his arms.
"Fu..fuck, how is this happening?" He managed to moan out. He wasn't chubby now. He could only be called fat. Then, the sensation faded. He stopped growing. Rick gulped, terrified to step on the scale and see the damage. But, he worked up the courage. He took a few steps across the room, feeling his now soft body jiggle with every footfall, and how his thighs rubbed together. He climbed up on the scale in the corner. The digital numbers whirred and flickered, until stopping. 289.7 lb.
Rick's knees felt weak. Brendon opened the shower and peered out at his newly young and freshly fattened step-dad. "Shit... you really flabbed out..."