We finished recording after a few hours, but I found myself being a bit more subdued and quiet than either Dan and Kent, letting them lead the way. I was just so worried about watching what I said, especially after seeing what Jeff had become when I'd tried to fix things for him. At the very least I managed to get through the session without any more errant words--or really any words at all, and I signed off, figuring I needed to try and put Jeff right, at the very least, before going to bed.
It was weird being fat--and something else, even though I knew I had been muscular earlier, I was having a hard time remembering anything about how I'd looked. It seemed like all my memories had slowly shifted to match this new reality, and when he went back out into the living room, where Jeff was still on the couch, it looked like he was perfectly content as well, stuffing his face with more snacks, and flipping through the channels, wearing just a pair of boxers and a tank top stretched over his massive gut. It wasn't a pretty sight, but I also couldn't imagine Jeff being any other way.
"Hey, how'd the nerd stuff go?"
"It went...well...like it..." I wasn't sure what to say--I was suddenly so paranoid that I might change something if I wasn't careful.
"You ok?" Jeff asked.
"Look, we...I want to talk about this curse stuff. I think we...should try and figure out what to do about this curse stuff."
"What do you mean? It's not like it's a big deal. Hell, has anything really changed? As long as I stay like this, I'll be happy."
"Seriously? This? I mean, look at yourself Jeff, don't you remember how you were? How we were? I mean, it looks like you haven't showered in weeks!"
I quickly learned, however, that he must have had a shower more recently than that, because the rank, musky smell in the room suddenly intensified, and I could see the filth crusted all over Jeff's face and chest from his weeks being unwashed. "It doesn't bother me--I'll shower when I feel like it."
"You never fucking feel like it!" I said, but tried to collect myself. "I'm sorry, I need to try and be more careful."
"Look, it's not a big deal--you worry too much. Why don't you relax for a while, and stop stressing so much about this curse? AMC has a horror movie marathon on with the Walking Dead--I know you love binging horror flicks."
I had to admit, that sounded like fun. In fact, as soon as he'd said it, I felt better already. Why was I so worried anyway? It was all going to be alright. It wasn't until I plopped down next to him on the couch that I realized the reason I was feeling that way was because of what he'd said...but try as I might, I suddenly couldn't make myself that concerned about any of it.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"Yeah...I am sorry I turned you into such a slob though. You really could use a shower though..."
"Man, I'm never going to take another shower for the rest of my life, if I can help it."
"Jeff, that's gross."
"Heh, well you're the one who lives with me, so you can't hate it that much, right?"
It was true, I didn't really mind his stink or his mess that much, now that I thought about it. "I guess you're right."
"Hell, to live with someone as slobby as I am," Jeff said, "You'd probably have to be at least as nasty and lazy as me, and like it just as much."
My fat body suddenly ballooned outward in every direction, my clothes becoming a tank and boxers just like Jeff had on. I could feel the thick layer of sweat and grease all over my body...and Jeff was right, I did like it. I expanded even more, sinking into my now familiar and comfortable divot in the couch, and felt my fat collide with his beside me, both of us rolling in towards the middle of the now sagging seat, well worn and battered, the apartment around us falling into even more disrepair and filth, but I didn't care. Hell, I liked it, the smell of our sweat and musk and stale air. I knew, of course, that I shouldn't like it, but fuck, I couldn't deny it now, and I had no interest in changing back. "Did you really have to say that?"
"Sorry, but it's true."
"Well it is now, yeah."
"Look, I keep telling you, everything's fine. Hell, it could be worse, right? At least I didn't say that you're a dumbass faggot or something."
"Heh, yeah..." I said, feeling my head become...lighter, somehow. Simpler. I leaned in, feeling Jeff's flab pressing against mine, my cock shuddering under my fat, "Fuck, yer stink's makin' me horny, Jeff."
"Heh, nothing turns you on like my filthy body man, I know," Jeff smiled, put his flabby arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his rank armpit. I couldn't stop myself--I started licking and chewing at his flesh, grinding my cock up into my sticky, greasy flab. Should I say something? I decided to just focus on cleaning his nasty body. After all, I needed to watch what I was saying--if I wasn't careful, I might screw up this really good thing I had going for us. Jeff, however, couldn't be happier--everything was going just as he'd planned, while I'd been off in the next room earlier. "Time for stage two," he muttered, and said...