Jared stood on his tiptoes to see over the throng. He was supposed to be meeting his boyfriend Travis down at the Fourth of July parade, but it was more crowded than he had anticipated.
He cursed his height. Travis said he made up for his shortness with cuteness, but he wasn’t so sure about that. Underneath his shock of curly auburn hair lay a straight, quizzical brow and mud-brown eyes above a button nose and a too-thin mouth. He was slim, but not athletic, and he couldn’t help but feel like his short stature was a liability. Especially now, when it was impossible to see anyone in the teeming crowd outside his apartment.
He cursed his parents. If they weren’t so religious and conservative, he wouldn’t even need to sneak out to meet his beloved. At least they were gullible. Anyone who knew Jared would be aware that he was the least patriotic person ever put on this planet, but they ate up his lie about wanting to go out and see the parade. He scowled at the crowd, who were merrily waving their plastic stars and stripes. Men and women walked along the concrete, holding hands and sharing snow cones.
Sometimes he wished he was straight, if only because he wanted to date someone without a Mission Impossible level of intrigue. But now was not one of those times. Travis was a great guy. He was understanding of the parental situation and also super sweet. Not to mention hot. Jared couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. If only he could find him…
He opened his phone, checking to see if Travis had texted him. An icon alerted him that he had a message. Thinking it might be from Travis, he clicked it, but the caller ID told him it was from his friend Thomas. Well, not friend, exactly. More of an acquaintance. Thomas was a chubby boy who had taken algebra with Jared two semesters ago and had developed a king of creepy crush on him. He constantly called and texted Jared, asking if he could hang out. It was bordering on stalking, but Jared didn’t mind. He just prayed Thomas would take the hint that he already had a boyfriend.
He pressed play.
“Ay, bro, it’s Tommy.” Thomas’ voice sounded slurred and oddly deep. Jared assumed he must have been very drunk last night. He checked the time stamp on the message: 3:27 AM. No wonder he hadn’t received the call. He was fast asleep.
“Jared… Jared…” the message continued. “Why I got you in my favorites, bro? Don’t pretend. I know you’re a fag. You slip your number in my phone? Leave me – urp – alone, fairy boy.” The message concluded with a fuzzy murmur and a click. What the hell?
The man on the other end sounded nothing like the Thomas he knew… And those things he was saying… He tried to push them out of his mind. Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight last night, or he never would have said those things. Still, it was a bit hurtful.
He turned his attention back to the parade. Wait, no. Travis. He was here for Travis. He got up on his tippy toes again to look around, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Strangely, when Jared put his heels down, he could still see over the heads of the crowd. Confused, he looked down. While he was craning his neck, he seemed to have grown several inches. His slender midriff peeked out at the bottom of his shirt, which no longer fit.
The summer sun beat down. Sweating, Jared began to overheat as his shirt seemed to grow tighter and tighter. Shyly, he slipped it off. He looked down to see that his muscles seemed maybe a bit more toned than they had before. He was scared of his body’s abrupt changes, but he couldn’t help but think that Travis might view it as an improvement. Only… Who was Travis? His boyfriend’s handsome face blurred and shifted in his memory. He strained to remember the details of his freckles and those eyes he loved so much, but he was distracted by the noise of the parade. He looked up. A marching band made its way down the street, led by a girl twirling an American flag.
Jared stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t seen anything more beautiful in his life. He watched as the dancer’s lithe body heaved with graceful movement, entranced by the bouncing of her blonde hair – and those D-cup breasts. Now, those he couldn’t pry his eyes away from. They jiggled as she marched and he sighed contentedly. He felt himself growing hard. Suddenly, as if drawn by a magnet, his gaze shifted t the flag twirling in her hands. His chest swelled with love for his country and tears welled in his eyes.
He clasped his hand over his heart and joined the crowd in a rousing rendition of the national anthem, belting the lyrics at the top of his lungs. As he sang, his voice cracked as it dropped several octaves from a squeaky alto to a deep, booming baritone. As he sang, his muscles bean to inflate with every deep breath. He quickly became lean and toned, nothing too showy, but definitely strong and masculine. His pecs solidified, tapering down to pointed tan nipples, and his abs tightened, forming a trim six pack above his now very clear V-line. His quads doubled in size, bursting above his swollen calves and perfectly round glutes, shaped to perfection by his gym shorts, which constricted into form-fitting Lycra biker shorts.
The curly hair on his head began to loosen its ringlets and recede halfway into his scalp, rippling with bright energy as they faded into blonde, forming a slight wavy, short men’s cut. His cheekbones rose, emerging prominently above their former position, highlighting his eyes, which were swirling from brown into a dazzling baby blue. He blinked as his lashes thickened, fully framing his beautiful eyes. His nose twitched as it grew thin and strong, and his jaw grew more angular, shifting with a slight pop to form a cleft chin. His lips inflated, becoming pouty and full. He smiled an easy, winning smile, exposing two rows of perfect, brilliantly white teeth.
As he sang, delicate golden stubble emerged from his follicles, sprouting profusely on his neck, face, and chin, highlighting the firm valley of his chin with their prickly, golden glow. Light blonde hair trickled down from his neck, dusting his abs and forming a soft, downy trail between his abs. A scar stretched across his ribs, mottled and pink, but somehow even more attractive for it. Golden hairs cascaded down his prodigious thighs, outlining his masculine shins with tickling fuzz. His toes wiggled as new hairs sprouted around the straps of his sandals.
Pinpricks speckled his back as a large, intricate cross tattoo adorned hits broad, smooth surface. His face grew suddenly cool as red, white, and blue face paint dripped across it. The song ended and his meaty hands clapped with loud, delirious applause. He wolf-whistled and winked as the majorette looked his way.
The band moved on, and on the next float, the local high school cheerleading team was showing off their skills in tight uniforms and tiny skirts. Jared grinned.
God bless America.