Lunch of champions

by Cris Kane

Skinny nerd Tyler is befriended by a high-school football star and slipped some of the team's special training diet.

“I just heard nobody’s asked Kaitlyn Johnson to the prom!”

Noah glanced over the top of his plastic-framed glasses, unimpressed by his friend Tyler’s bulletin. “So?”

“So, I’m gonna ask her out!” Tyler declared.

Noah snorted, sending a trickle of chocolate milk through his nostrils. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his flannel shirt and studied Tyler across the table. “Did you wake up on the insane side of the bed today?”

Tyler became defensive. “Screw you. You don’t know that she’ll say no. I did just have a growth spurt.”

“Five-one to five-two doesn’t count as a ‘spurt’. That’s more like a trickle.” Noah lowered his head and went back to reading his X-Men comic and wolfing down his brown-bag lunch.

Finally setting down his lunch tray across from Noah and taking a seat, Tyler said, “My dad says you never get anything unless you try.”

“Yeah, well, you never get humiliated unless you try something stupid,” Noah countered, nudging his glasses back up his nose and smiling a shit-eating grin. Well, technically, peanut-butter-eating. Probably not the best choice for somebody wearing braces, but Noah wasn’t going to stop eating things he liked just because his mom thought he should have straight teeth. As evidenced by the flab hanging over the front of his pants and the edge of his seat, Noah wasn’t big on the concept of stopping eating.

By contrast, Tyler was short and painfully frail, his bones having approximately the same thickness and resiliency as uncooked spaghetti. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in self-confidence. Glorious unwarranted self-confidence. He wasn’t gifted academically, athletically or socially. He and Noah had become friends almost by default, as if they had tied for the title of “least popular” in kindergarten and their prize was each other’s company for life. Lately, though, Tyler had begun to feel that Noah was holding him back, almost literally weighing him down and preventing him from rising in the school’s social circles. Taking Kaitlyn to the prom would be a major coup for Tyler.

“Why would she go out with someone like us?” Noah asked. “Don’t cheerleaders always go out with football players?”

“Yeah, but I heard that none of the players are asking out anybody. Maybe they’re trying to stay focused on the game without any distractions.”

“Or maybe they’re all circle-jerkin’ in the locker room,” Noah snorted again, this time without a milk geyser.

“Oh my god, there she is!” Tyler whispered as Kaitlyn and some of her clique took their seats at a nearby table. “What should I say to her to make her go with me?”

Asking Noah for romantic advice was as pointless as asking a fish how to mountain climb. Noah didn’t even look up from his comic as he muttered, “Tell her you got leukemia and it’s your ‘Make-A-Wish’ request to bone her.”

Tyler sneered. “Jeez, do you hafta make everything gross?”

“I don’t have to, but it’s more fun.”

Tyler placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. He swept his black bangs off his forehead, became acutely aware of his keeping his posture erect, and strolled stiffly over to Kaitlyn’s table.

“He-eh-llo, Kaitlyn,” said Tyler, his cracking voice giving “Hello” an extra syllable that sounded like a sneaker squeaking on a basketball court. Bad start.

Kaitlyn looked up, curious. Like Tyler, she was a sophomore. Unlike Tyler, she was beautiful, with curly blonde hair, wide green eyes and glossy red lips. She had the slim androgynous body of a young female gymnast, but if you could judge by her late-blooming older sisters, she would be purchasing much larger bras in the very near future. Like Noah, Kaitlyn had known Tyler since they were in kindergarten and she had always been superficially sweet to him, but the other girls at her table were reacting as if she was talking to someone with open sores.

“Hi, Tyler. What’s up?”

“Well, I heard you weren’t going to the prom and I was just wondering if maybe you would be interested…in going…with me…at all…to it.”

The other girls at the table laughed, with the marginally nicer ones at least making an attempt to stifle it. Kaitlyn frowned at her friends, mostly for embarrassing her. She looked back at Tyler, smiled kindly and sagged her shoulders as evidence of her disappointment. “I’m so sorry, Tyler, but I’m gonna be out of town that weekend. Otherwise…” She trailed off, avoiding any specific commitment regarding what her answer would have been if she wasn’t going out of town.

Tyler nodded frantically. “Okay. Okay. Right. Just thought I should ask. You never know unless you ask, right? Okay. See ya.”

Kaitlyn continued to smile sympathetically at Tyler as he backed away, while her table mates couldn’t start mocking him quickly enough.

Tyler lowered his head, avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the lunchroom, then took a seat and started shoveling down food. “Shit, shit, shit. That was a big mistake. I am soooo stupid.”

From across the table came a low voice asking, “What the fuck is this?”

Tyler looked up and saw the sparkling blue eyes of Cody Reynolds staring back at him. Cody was a blond, blue-eyed senior and an all-state something-or-other on the football team. Oh, crap, Tyler realized, I sat down at the wrong table. He spotted Noah two tables down, engrossed in his comic and his Double-Stuf Oreos.

“I’m sorry, man,” Tyler said nervously and began to stand, but Cody grinned winningly and grabbed Tyler’s wrist reassuringly.

“Relax, kid, it’s okay.”

Tyler relaxed, kind of, and sat back down. He looked at the lunch tray he had been eating from, which looked a lot healthier than the gray glop on a bun he would be going back to. “What’s this?”

“That’s my buddy Tanker’s lunch, but I won’t tell him you ate any of it. He can get a little possessive.”

“But it looks and tastes like… food!”

“Coach makes sure the team gets a special diet. Wants us in peak condition at all times.”

If that was the goal, he was certainly succeeding with Cody, whose bulging shoulders and torso were encased in a skin-hugging yellow Under Armour tee which left his carved-granite biceps and vascular forearms on full display. Cody couldn’t help but notice how Tyler was scoping out his body enviously. Poor little squirt, so emaciated that his eyes were practically bugging out of his head. If it weren’t for his skin, Tyler would look like the real human skeleton in the biology classroom that everyone liked to take mock-pornographic selfies with.

“So, you really like that food?” Cody asked.

“Yeah, it’s delicious,” replied Tyler, whose typical meals at home were not much better than what was lying in wait for him back on his own tray.

“Well then, go ahead, eat up.”

Tyler looked skeptical. “You sure? What about your friend?”

“Tanker’s a big boy, he can get another tray. Coach always lets us eat as much as we want.”

Tyler smiled and dug in excitedly. It certainly wasn’t an exotic meal—grilled chicken breast, baked potato with no topping, steamed green beans—but it all tasted incredible. Tyler could get addicted to food this good. He was, however, avoiding the suspicious contents of one compartment on the meal tray, something which was the consistency of oatmeal but bright red in color. Cody noticed that Tyler was leaving it untouched, so he pointed to it.

“Why aren’t you eating the red stuff?”

“I didn’t know what it was.”

“It’s the best part. Go ahead, try it.”

Tyler cautiously dipped a spoon into the blob, picking up a few molecules of the stuff, just enough to get the tiniest taste. He winced as he slipped the spoon into his mouth, but was pleasantly surprised. He liked it, although it tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He scooped up a full spoonful and gobbled it down. A tingling rushed from his tongue downward through his nervous system. He even felt a jolt in his balls, which raised goosebumps on his skin.

Cody leaned back and smirked. “Told ya.” Tyler nodded, making yummy noises as he wolfed down the rest of the substance, scraping the tray clean.

“What the fuck is this?” Tyler asked about the red stuff, but another voice interrupted Cody’s answer.

“What the fuck is this?” said Tanker, a crew-cut musclebound giant of a senior, as he pointed to the scrawny nerd who was eating his meal.

Tyler cowered and slid down the bench to make room, but Cody gestured for him to stay. Cody calmly spoke to Tanker. “Just go get yourself another tray, okay? It’s no big deal.”

Tanker remained peeved and pointed to the now empty compartment of his food tray, lowering his voice to tell Cody, “Coach says that’s not for sharing.”

“Coach says lotsa things. Just go get yourself another tray.” He shooed away Tanker, who still looked concerned.

Tyler was still licking his lips, trying to ingest every particle of the red goop. “You think I can get seconds of that stuff?”

Cody shook his head. “Tanker’s right, that’s really supposed to be for the team only.” Tyler nodded, understanding but disappointed. A wily expression crossed Cody’s lips and he told Tyler, “Meet me after practice this afternoon. Maybe I can hook you up.” Tyler’s eyes brightened.

Tyler was so energized and satisfied from eating Tanker’s meal that, when he got back to the table with Noah, he just threw away the remainder of his own lunch.

“Hey, I woulda eaten some of that,” griped Noah.

“That crap’s bad for your body,” insisted Tyler who sat down and restlessly drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“Jeez, man, you’re shaking like a leaf. You shouldn’t take rejection so personally.”

But Tyler knew he wasn’t shaking from embarrassment at being turned down by Kaitlyn. That strange food was doing a number on his whole system. He started to get paranoid, worried that it contained crack or heroin or meth. Could the coach actually be feeding his players meth? Seemed unlikely, but a lot of them were missing teeth.

Tyler could barely focus in his classes all afternoon, staring out the window, jittery with anticipation. Noah noticed how distracted Tyler was, but didn’t find it terribly out of character. Despite his air of confidence, Tyler was never the most attentive student and his grades were middling. Noah, on the other hand, was bright, excelling in math, science and English without exerting much effort. He wasn’t too concerned with being an outcast in high school. In fact, he practically reveled in it. He’d read enough about his heroes to know that most of them were misfits when they were young too. He figured he’d have earned his first billion before his tenth-year class reunion and everyone who ignored him in high school would feel like such idiots for not seeing his awesome potential. Noah was so convinced of this outcome that he had not yet put any thought into how exactly he would earn that first billion.

Noah and Tyler both hated that their final class of the day was gym. Scrawny Tyler and obese Noah were at the far ends of the fitness bell curve, so they were both mortified to undress in front of their more normally proportioned classmates, and they knew their humiliation would only escalate through the rest of the hour. Even Tyler’s upbeat attitude couldn’t compensate for the lack of muscle on his bones. He tried to shrug off every strike-out, every air-ball, every pathetic attempt at a chin-up with a self-deprecating quip that made it seem like he wasn’t bothered. Noah, on the other hand, relied on the gym teacher’s low expectations of Noah’s abilities, and Noah proudly strove to be even worse than expectations.

Today, however, as Tyler pulled off his sweater, Noah couldn’t help but stare at Tyler’s body. Tyler became aware of Noah’s eyes on him. “What are you looking at, perv?”

“Have you actually been working out?” asked Noah, incredulous.

“What? No.” But when Tyler looked down, he could see what Noah meant. While one could usually look at Tyler and wonder what was holding his bones together aside from the human-shaped bag of skin that contained them, it was now possible to distinguish small but distinct muscles on his arms and legs. His chest was still flat and his stomach concave, but…something had happened. He shrugged his small shoulder muscles. “Maybe I’m having another spurt.”

“Just don’t spurt when you’re taking a shower or you’ll never live it down.”

The phys-ed teacher was usually so worn out by the end of the day that the activities in the final hour tended to be whatever taxed him the least. So Tyler and Noah ended up playing a lot of dodgeball. Noah’s strategy was simple: stand as close to the center line as possible, make himself the easiest, largest target that he could, and sit down on the sidelines for the rest of the game.

Tyler was more agile and represented a much narrower target, especially when he faced sideways, so he generally lasted longer in the game. Today, for some reason, he was bouncing around like a maniac in his t-shirt and sweat pants. He felt wired and was taunting the opposing team, daring them to pummel his body with their big red balls. They were happy to oblige, aiming balls violently at Tyler’s head, chest and scrotum, but he kept dodging their assaults. He even knocked a few opponents out of the game, and was stunned by the speed with which he was firing the ball today. Eventually and inevitably, he was beaned and sent to the sidelines where some of his teammates actually congratulated him, slapping him on the shoulder or the butt and telling him, “Good game.”

Tyler sat down next to Noah, beaming. Noah asked, “Who are you and where is Tyler?”

Today, Tyler didn’t dread the end-of-class shower so much. The spray of the water droplets combined with the buzz he’d had been feeling since lunch to create a euphoria verging on arousal, but he was in enough command of his senses to know that this was not the place to get a hard-on. He returned to the locker room where Noah was slumped on the bench, seemingly as tired as if he had actually exerted himself. He had convinced the gym teacher at the beginning of the semester that he shouldn’t be showering after class because he would just get sweated up on his way home and have to take another shower there. Therefore, by skipping the shower at school, he was economizing water and doing his part to save the planet.

As Tyler toweled off, Noah’s eyes were drawn to Tyler’s flopping dick. “Shit, man.”

“What?” Tyler saw where Noah’s eyes were focused and looked down. He covered himself with a towel quickly, but not before he got a good peek at the size of his cock. While still modest, it must have doubled in size, and he knew it was still fully soft.

Noah asked, “What is up with you all of a sudden?”

Tyler replied, “Why are you lookin’ at me all of a sudden?”

Neither one of them provided an answer to the other’s query. Tyler hurriedly got dressed, making sure to take another look at his enlarged penis as he adjusted it to fit properly into his underpants. The rest of his clothes also felt a little tighter than they had at the start of the hour.

Noah and Tyler usually walked home together, but for some reason Tyler was lagging behind today. “I think I’m gonna stay after a while. Maybe watch the football team practice or something.”

“Watch the football team? What are you, turning into a fag or something?” Noah asked.

Tyler became defensive. “Me a fag? Who’s the one who was checking me out in the locker room?”

Noah kicked at the dirt, not feeling like walking home alone. “Okay, I’ll hang around too. You’ll look less like a fag if there’s two of us than if it’s just you.”

“How do you figure that?” asked Tyler.

Noah scrunched up his face, then said dismissively, “I don’t wanna explain it.”

They headed to the bleachers where Noah quickly finished his algebra homework while Tyler rubbed a hand across his stomach and kept his eyes on the field. At one point, Cody spotted him in the stands and gave him a wave and a crooked smile. Tyler waved back, nonchalant.

“Was that Cody Reynolds waving at you?” Noah asked.

“Yeah.”

Noah was shocked. “You know Cody Reynolds?”

“Yeah, we’re buds. Him and me and Tanker. Yo, Tanker!” Tyler shouted to the field where Tanker squinted into the stands. He recognized the kid who stole his lunch this noon and flipped his middle finger.

Tyler turned to Noah and explained, “That Tanker. Always joking around.”

As the team headed off the field, Tyler scrambled down the bleachers and rushed up to Cody. “So, you got some of the stuff?” Tyler asked.

Cody muttered out the side of his mouth, “Not here. Side of the building, north of the locker room, ten minutes.” Then, for the benefit of the rest of the team, Cody spoke more loudly, “Shit, kid, I don’t give autographs.” The other players laughed and teased Tyler as they jogged past.

Noah lumbered up behind Tyler. “Your bud’s kind of a dick.”

Tyler spun and lashed out at Noah. “I’m meeting him in ten minutes outside the school, okay? You don’t believe me? Come and see.” Noah shrugged. He had nothing else to do.

The wait was more than ten minutes, so Noah started a timer on his phone and announced each subsequent minute in a loud voice. “Eleven minutes!” “Twelve minutes!” He had just reached eighteen minutes when Cody rounded the corner, making sure he wasn’t seen but otherwise behaving like the king of cool until he noticed Noah.

“Who’s this guy?” Cody asked suspiciously.

“That’s my buddy, Noah. He’s cool.”

“Noah, huh? You sure he’s not the whale?” Cody laughed at the cleverness of his witticism.

“That’s Jonah, you douche,” Noah shot back.

Cody took a step toward Noah, but Tyler moved into his path and held him back. “Can I just have the stuff and we can leave?”

Cody nodded and pulled a water bottle out of his gym bag. The bottle was filled with something brown and viscous and flecked with yellow particles.

“I thought you were gonna give me some of the red stuff,” said Tyler, disappointed.

“This is way better. Trust me.”

Noah looked at Tyler in shock. “Is this guy giving you steroids?”

“No one’s talking to you, lardass,” said Cody to Noah.

Noah was getting pissed. “I know I’m fat, but at least I don’t get my body artificially.”

Cody snapped back, “Really. I didn’t realize Twinkies were natural.”

Before Noah could take a swing at Cody, Tanker popped around the corner, looking impatient and whispering loudly, “Cody, what’s taking you?”

Cody turned toward Tanker and commanded Tanker to fork over his bottle. Tanker clutched his gym bag close to his chest and shook his head.

“C’mon, if you miss one day, it’s not gonna kill you. I want to give it to my new friend Jonah here.”

Tanker was still resisting. “But Coach says…”

“‘Coach says. Coach says.’ Coach doesn’t ever hafta find out, does he? Besides,” said Cody, putting his arm around the shoulders of a cringing Noah, “maybe he’s another Tanker in the making.”

Tanker’s immense body sagged. He never could say no to Cody. He zipped open his gym bag and tossed the bottle to Cody, who caught it deftly but held it out of Noah’s reach. “You guys gotta promise me you’ll drink the whole bottle down. This is valuable stuff. I’m not giving it to you just so you can pour it down the toilet.”

Tyler nodded, looking excitedly at the elixir, while Noah would make no such promise.

“I gotta warn you, though,” said Cody. “This doesn’t taste nearly as good as the red stuff. In fact, it tastes like shit. But it’s worth it. You’ll see.” Cody winked at Tyler, then slammed the bottle into Noah’s chest. Noah wheezed, the wind knocked out of him.

Cody walked over to Tanker and, just before they rounded the corner of the building, Cody looked back and said with a smile, “See you tomorrow, boys.”

Tyler and Noah went back to Noah’s house where Noah had turned the entire basement into his bedroom/game room. He spent most of his time lying on the mattress on the floor reading comics, that is when he wasn’t sitting in his gaming chair playing “Assassin’s Creed” or streaming Adult Swim. This afternoon, though, he and Tyler were seated on the floor opposite one another, staring at the strange bottles they’d been given. Noah dared to open the cap just enough to smell its foul stench.

“I’m telling you, they’re shitting us. Literally,” Noah insisted. “All the jocks probably got together and shit in a blender and now they’re laughing their asses off at the idea that they convinced us to drink it. Those yellow bits are probably undigested corn.”

“And I’m telling you, I think the coach is giving the players special food to make them bigger and stronger.”

“Yeah, but it’s probably steroids or HGH or something else that’ll turn your balls into BBs.”

“Whatever it is, it works,” Tyler said with a smile as he pulled his sweater over his head. Noah gasped. Just since gym class, Tyler had felt his chest and arms growing even more under his sweater. It was still relative, as he had started with such an anemic body, but there was no question that something was beefing up the boy. Tyler rubbed his fingers across the slight pec muscles that were starting to form. When he touched his nipples, they were so sensitive that it triggered a small jolt in his cock. Tyler smiled, popped open the bottle and, bracing himself, started to chug.

Noah reached over, trying to grab the bottle from Tyler, but Tyler pushed him away and kept drinking. Despite the sickening flavor and foul odor, he felt compelled to keep swallowing and the rush was even greater than when he ate the red goop at lunch. He became light-headed and his pulse began to gallop. Whatever was in this stuff seemed to be entering directly into his bloodstream before it could even reach his stomach. As soon as he was sure he’d gotten every drop, Tyler flung the plastic bottle to the floor, jumped to his feet and unleashed an animalistic whoop.

Noah gestured for Tyler to keep the noise down so his mother didn’t come down and ask what was happening. Tyler started to pace frenetically. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, you gotta do yours now. You’ll never…I can’t explain…you just gotta feel it!” Tyler’s bugged eyes burned with intensity and he jumped to touch the ceiling with his fingertips, missing by about a foot.

To appease Tyler, Noah said, “Okay, I’ll take one sip.” He slurped a small amount and gagged, rushing to his mini-fridge for a two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. He needed nearly half of the bottle just to wash away the aftertaste of that tiny amount of the brown crud. But slowly he had an odd realization: he wanted more. That’s what drugs do to you, right? Make you want more? Noah tried to resist, but he felt the bottle beckoning to him.

Tyler knelt down beside Noah. “Do it, man. You’re gonna love it.”

Finally, Noah brought the bottle to his lips and drained it. He didn’t even need the Mountain Dew chaser to mask the flavor this time. It felt like a low-intensity electrical current was spreading through his body, with Pop Rocks and cola interacting in his brain. He stared at Tyler and said, “Now what?”

Tyler stared blankly. “I dunno. Cody didn’t say.”

They sat on the floor, staring at each other for a few minutes, but aside from the continuation of an overall pleasant feeling, nothing really seemed to be happening to them. Finally, they decided to play a videogame for distraction, but they both became itchy with restlessness.

“Wanna shoot some hoops?” Tyler asked. Noah thought that sounded good and began to search for his NBA videogame. “No, not a videogame. Shoot hoops for real. Over at my place.”

The suggestion had never come up before, with Tyler too short, Noah too heavy and both of them too klutzy for basketball to seem like a pleasant leisure-time diversion. But they both had energy to burn right now and bounded eagerly up the basement steps and out the door, Tyler bare-chested, tying his sweater around his waist. Noah’s mother yelled out the window, asking when he would be back.

“I dunno,” he replied, and the boys raced each other down the sidewalk toward Tyler’s house. Tyler took the early lead and never relinquished it, his strides becoming longer, his breathing more effortless, while Noah chugged along, sweat cascading down his forehead.

Both of Tyler’s parents were still at work when they reached Tyler’s house. The paint on the backboard over the garage was faded and chipped, not having been used much since Tyler’s athletic older brother left for college three years ago. While Tyler tried to figure out how to reinflate the rarely-used basketball, Noah continued working up a sweat as he jogged up and down the driveway, drenching his baggy flannel shirt. It hadn’t felt baggy an hour ago. As Noah began to unbutton his shirt, he caught a glimpse of shirtless Tyler operating the manual air pump.

“Dude. Check out your guns.”

Tyler paused for a second, never having been told that he had guns before. He glanced at his arms and noticed a pronounced peak in his biceps which ebbed and flowed with each stroke of the pump. He was astonished and looked up at Noah with a wide grin.

Noah couldn’t tear off his flannel shirt quickly enough to see if anything had happened to him. Sure enough, he must have lost twenty pounds of fat from his arms and his belly already. His soggy white undershirt clung to his skin and his roomy pants had slid down to reveal his sagging boxer shorts.

The boys looked at each other with bright eyes that screamed “It works!” without either of them having to say a word. Suddenly, Tyler got an idea. He dropped the semi-inflated ball to the garage’s cement floor where it landed with a thud, and dashed inside. Noah sprinted close behind with remarkable swiftness.

Once inside, Tyler kicked off his shoes, which suddenly felt tight around his feet, and ran upstairs to his brother’s old room, its walls and shelves decorated with athletic awards, plaques and ribbons. Noah arrived at the room shortly thereafter, leaning against the door frame and panting, his lungs still having some catching up to do with the rest of his body.

Tyler lay down on his brother’s bed and started wriggling out of what had suddenly become skinny jeans, the hem of the legs now tight against his skin and several inches up his calves. He was having trouble getting his waistband past his newly expanded rear end, until he felt strong hands grabbing his pant cuffs and yanking forcefully. He looked up and saw Noah holding Tyler’s pants aloft like a trophy.

Tyler stood up and rushed to his brother’s dresser where some of his old clothes remained. Tyler rummaged around until he found something that interested him: skimpy blue briefs with a large waistband screaming “Calvin Klein”. He tugged off his old constricting white underpants, shredding the fabric in the process, and revealing that his cock had undergone further changes since gym class. It was now six inches long, semi-soft but getting harder. He pulled the Calvins up his long smooth legs and somehow wedged his cock inside them. He ran his hands over the pronounced curves of his new ass and turned toward Noah. “Whattaya think?”

He got his answer non-verbally, as Noah was staring at him lustily. Noah’s oversized pants and underwear had dropped to the floor, leaving him only in his white undershirt. His dick was now at full mast, longer, thicker and harder than Tyler’s. He wanted to see himself in some of that sexy underwear too, so he searched until he found a turquoise thong. Tyler had never realized how adventurous his brother was in the underwear department. Noah loved the silky feel of the thong and squirmed excitedly as he felt the strip of fabric lodging itself in the crack between his perky new butt cheeks.

Noah noticed Tyler’s brother’s old clothes hanging in the closet and, with his own fat melting away, he desperately wanted to see how sexy his ass looked in a pair of tight jeans. All the pants had 32-inch waists, a size which Noah probably hadn’t worn since third grade, but he pulled on a pair and was amazed to discover he could get them all the way up, although he couldn’t quite get the top button to close. Noah inspired Tyler to grab a pair of navy pants, which slid easily up his sleek-muscled legs and hung loosely, exposing the waistband of his briefs.

The two boys smiled at each other, awestruck. They faced the large mirror on the wall, in front of which Tyler’s brother used to lift weights, and began to pose. Their transformations were incredible and thorough. Tyler must have gained six inches of height and thirty pounds of muscle, and his face had evolved to match with dark heavy eyebrows, a long jaw and a firm chin. The flesh beneath his eyes had filled in, bringing the focus up to his deep mysterious eyes. He could pop impressive biceps and a deep cleft ran from his chest to his belly button.

The changes to Noah were even more remarkable. He removed his glasses to get a better look and discovered they were no longer necessary. His height hadn’t changed, but Tyler had grown so they were now eye-to-eye. The body fat that used to cover and define Noah had somehow been sucked into the ether, leaving him with a lean and cut torso. He peeled up his tee, clutching the shirt tail between his teeth so he could cast a loving, lingering gaze on his perfectly delineated six-pack, the dark line of hair from his navel to his thong, and the enviably muscular V above his hips. Grapefruit-sized biceps had grown—or emerged—from his formerly flabby arms, and the loss of his puffy cheeks and double-chin had unearthed a strikingly handsome face.

Noah reached his arms behind his head and pulled off his t-shirt. He turned and smiled at Tyler, whose eyes roamed Noah’s new body before landing on his adorable new face. Tyler felt an unfamiliar urge, but a surge of confidence made him act upon it spontaneously. He leaned forward and placed his narrow lips gently on Noah’s. To his surprise, Noah didn’t flinch, didn’t gripe, didn’t make a sarcastic remark. Instead, he opened his soft lips and sent his tongue exploring. Tyler’s lips parted to let him in.

Tyler slowly took a seat on the edge of his brother’s bed and Noah sat beside him as their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Tyler lay back and Noah straddled him, unbuttoning his pants to unleash his still-growing cock. Tyler shook his head with confusion. “What are we doing?” Tyler wondered aloud. “This must be a side effect of the stuff.”

“Not for me,” said Noah with a wicked grin, revealing a secret that he had kept even—or especially—from his best friend. “I was afraid I was doomed to be your lonely gay buddy who sat around and watched while you turned into a hottie like your big brother and started hooking up with every chick in school.”

“You think I’m a hottie?” asked Tyler.

“Dude, you’re the second hottest guy in this room,” declared Noah with a devilish look as he pulled down his thong and unbuttoned Tyler’s pants. But hearing Tyler’s mom enter the garage, they frantically scrambled to neaten up Tyler’s brother’s room, then ran into Tyler’s room and slammed the door.

When his mom knocked on Tyler’s door and asked what he wanted for supper, Tyler lied and said he had already eaten at Noah’s house. She accepted his excuse and told him there would be leftovers if he changed his mind. The only thing worse than his mom’s cooking was his mom’s leftovers.

In fact, Tyler and Noah’s new bodies were both starving, but too many things about the boys had changed for Tyler to explain to his mother quickly and easily. Better to sneak out of the house and grab some food at a restaurant. They ducked quietly back into Tyler’s brother’s room to get some appropriate clothes and got so carried away trying on new outfits that they nearly forgot about leaving. Once they’d finally found clothes that fit, they tiptoed to the patio door, gently closing it behind them to avoid alerting Tyler’s parents.

They strolled through town, Tyler in a magenta-and-cyan-striped tank, Noah shirtless but carrying a sweatshirt for later if it got cold. It gave them each a thrill to be walking around town, looking so hot and also so anonymous. It would be hard to imagine anyone, even their own parents, recognizing Tyler and Noah the way they looked now, although Tyler’s folks might have noticed that one of them bore a strong resemblance to their older son.

Their initial plan was to chow down on some garbage food at Taco Bell, but they both suddenly felt a desire for something healthier, something that would keep these bodies in better shape. Neither of them could think of such a place, since that had never been a consideration for either of them before, but a quick Google search suggested a health-food restaurant neither of them had heard of it or even seen. The map on Tyler’s phone showed that it was not far from school, so they headed that direction.

No wonder they had never come across it, as the entrance was down a dim alley with no exit, and there was no sign on the door. Noah pulled on his sweatshirt as they entered and was surprised to see the place nearly packed. Even stranger, everyone seemed to be guys from high school. Practically all of the football team, as well as wrestlers, hockey players and a couple of basketball players.

The hostess greeted Tyler and Noah and led them to a table. As they looked around, they noticed additional details which hadn’t been so obvious when they first entered: nearly everyone was seated at tables for two, and many of those couples were holding hands. Noah smiled, slid his hand across the table timidly and asked, “Can I?”

Tyler still felt funny about it, since he hadn’t had a single gay impulse in his life until tonight, but he really wanted to be wanted by Noah right now. He extended his hand and Noah grasped it. Tyler spotted a familiar couple two tables over. He removed one end from the paper on a drinking straw and shot the paper across the room until it hit one of them in the ear. The injured party turned around, pissed off. It was Cody Reynolds.

“Sorry to bug you,” Tyler asked, “but what would you recommend? Maybe some red goo?”

Cody abruptly said, “Yeah, the red goo is delicious here, asshole,” then turned back to face his companion, Tanker. Suddenly Cody had a realization and turned back to look at Tyler and Noah. “Holy shit, look at you guys!” He smiled at Noah and said, “And you thought I was trying to fuck with you.”

Noah responded, “I should be so lucky.” Cody smiled back, and neither Tyler nor Tanker was very happy with this flirting.

Cody asked a waitress to bring over two more chairs so Tyler and Noah could join him and Tanker, again displeasing Tanker who had hoped for a night alone with Cody. Tyler and Noah both expressed their appreciation for what Cody had done and wanted to know what would happen next.

“Well, here comes the bad news, guys,” Cody informed them. “By tomorrow morning, the dosage you drank this afternoon will have worn off and passed out of your systems. When you wake up, you’ll be back to your same old bodies.”

Both Tyler and Noah slumped in their chairs. This was indeed disheartening. They would rather have stayed their sad old selves than get a glimpse of what their bodies could be, only to have it snatched away in the morning.

But Cody was still smiling. “Here’s the good news. All of these supplements have a cumulative effect. Eventually you’ll look like this all the time, but you still have to keep on the regimen pretty strictly so you don’t lose your gains. That’s why the coach has us drinking a bottle of that brown stuff every night, a serving of the red stuff every noon and a pint of bull semen every morning.”

Tyler and Noah laughed. “Bull semen. Good one,” Noah said, chuckling, until he noticed Cody’s sincere expression and Tanker’s confirming nod.

Tyler looked around at all the couples openly showing their affection and whispered, “So does it make everyone turn…ya know…gay?”

“Everyone who wasn’t already,” Tanker chimed in, seemingly speaking from experience. Noah nodded at him.

“Yeah, coach isn’t sure why that is. Must be something in the way it affects the hormones or something. But we’re six-and-O so far this season and I think we might win state, so nobody seems to mind. Nobody except our ex-girlfriends. But I gotta tell ya, it sure does limit the outside distractions, so we can keep our focus on the game and bonding as a team.”

No wonder none of the jocks had asked out Kaitlyn Johnson, Tyler thought. You’d think she would have been delighted to discover that there was still one straight boy left in the school who wanted to take her to the prom.

“So how long do we have to wait before we look like this all the time?” Tyler asked.

“A week. Ten days max. Your folks will think you started taking steroids, but all this stuff is perfectly safe and undetectable. I know that’s pretty fast, but it’s just gradual enough that people won’t wonder how you exploded with muscle in a single night. They’ll just think it’s a…”

“Growth spurt,” said Tyler with a smile. “How long has this been going on?”

“About five years or so. Your brother was the first guy Coach tested it on and, man, did it work. So, what do you say, boys? You want me to tell Coach to bring you into the program? Me and Tanker graduate this year. He’s gonna need some new meat.”

“But we both totally suck at sports,” Noah informed him.

“That’s the beauty of it,” said Cody, arms clasped behind his head to more perfectly display his bulging biceps. “So did I.”

Tyler and Noah looked at each other, grins growing slowly on their faces.

Ten days later, Tyler and Noah walked into school side-by-side. It was pretty obvious to everyone that they had undergone massive changes to their bodies in the past week or so since they joined the junior varsity football squad, to the point where they were nearly unrecognizable. But folks around the school had gotten used to that kind of thing happening since the football coach initiated his healthy nutrition plan for the athletes. And hey, the football team was still undefeated this year, so whatever he was doing must be working.

Noah leaned against the neighboring lockers while Tyler retrieved his backpack and textbooks. Last week, Noah had his braces removed, as the orthodontist said his teeth had straightened out much sooner than he expected. Over the weekend, Noah had gotten blond highlights in his hair and the “X-Men” logo tattooed on his upper right arm. He loved how it poked out from under the sleeve of his form-fitting black t-shirt. His black jeans were similarly snug, molding to the sensuous curves of his butt, thighs and calves. He raised his right leg and pressed his foot against the lockers, feeling the strain of his quads. He loved that soreness in his muscles the day after a heavy workout, and could hardly wait until the end of the day for gym class and football practice. His academic courses weren’t the breeze they used to be, but Noah finally had something to feel excited about at school and was actually making friends with other guys on the team.

Tyler had begun gelling his thick black hair into artfully messy spikes and had three days of stubble on his cheeks. He was regularly raiding his brother’s closet, grateful that his bro had been so style-conscious when he was Tyler’s size. Today’s wardrobe was black gabardine slacks and a paisley vest over a white button-down, sleeves rolled high to display his constantly-flexing biceps and triceps. Two simple silver hoops hung from his right earlobe, and a random collection of vintage bracelets wrapped around his left wrist halfway to the elbow. His old self-confidence now bordered on cockiness, seeming to radiate from his every look, move and gesture. His already meager interest in his studies had plummeted as his focus was now solely on football, partying with the other jocks and hanging out with Noah. True, hanging out with Noah wasn’t exactly a new thing, but they were definitely doing new and different activities together now.

When Tyler closed his locker door, he leaped with surprise as he discovered Kaitlyn Johnson waiting for him two feet away. She smiled and said “Hiya, Tyler” in an affected sing-song that made it clear she had practiced her delivery for maximum effect. Her hair was brushed forward onto her shoulders, and gold eyeshadow was really making her green eyes pop today.

“Hey, Kaitlyn. What’s up?”

“Well, it looks like my plans for prom weekend fell through, and I will be in town after all. Soooo…” She rested her head against the lockers and looked out of the corner of her eyes at the handsome hunk Tyler had so recently become.

Tyler glanced at Noah. They shared a grin, then Tyler turned back to Kaitlyn with a sad expression to let her down easy.

“Sorry, Kaitlyn, but I’m gonna be busy that night.”

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