A matter of perspective

by BRK   

Todd doesn’t appreciate what he has—height, beauty, a long and lanky bod. Only shortish muscle dudes are sexy in his eyes. Fortunately, his boyfriend, Jay, has a way to teach Todd how to see his blessings from an entirely new angle.

Jay walked into the Playful Dove, packed as usual on a Friday night, and scanned for his boyfriend, Todd.

“There he is,” he told his friend, pointing past the smallish dance floor and the sextet of pool tables toward the back bar against the far wall of the tavern. He didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard over a thumping sound system—the Dove wasn’t that kind of place. The random pop music was more of a backdrop as soundscapes went, and the guys grinding or slow dancing looked like they’d dance to anything.

His friend followed where Jay was pointing and immediately noticed the tall, very good-looking man in the untucked plaid shirt and jeans taking drink orders from a small coterie of very attentive men. Anyone thirsty in that part of the establishment seemed to be going to straight to him and more or less ignoring the other bartender, a grizzled but handsome enough identically-dressed older man who leaned against the well at other end of the back bar with his arms crossed, looking on with wry amusement.

Jay’s friend stroked his long ginger beard and cocked and eyebrow sidelong at Jay. “You sure about this?” he asked.

Jay just smiled and nodded toward their quarry, as if to say, You’ll see.

They slid through the dancers and around the billiardsers to end up at the butt end of the back bar. “Yo, Toddo!” Jay called.

Todd looked their way, his face breaking into a heart-meltingly sexy grin when he saw them. A few of the bargoers vying for his attentions looked Jay’s way in annoyance, no doubt wondering how it was that this bland, kinda buff but otherwise ordinary-looking guy elicited that kind of a reaction from their sigh-worthy dreamboat. Todd finished handing out a few more rum-and-Cokes, eyes on Jay the whole time, before glancing over at his veteran coworker. “Hey, Rocky, I’m on break, okay?”

Rocky gave him a sardonic smile and a salute, eyeing the crowd of admirers as though he could hear the silent groans. Reluctantly, most of the crowd drifted away toward the little round tables lining the dance floor, those who still needed drinks shifting toward Rocky’s end of the bar. Todd, meanwhile, moved in and greeted Jay with a quick kiss, clearly oblivious to all the drama he created merely by existing.

As Todd straightened, beaming at him, Jay glanced over at his friend, who was scoping his boyfriend over with obvious appreciation. And what wasn’t there to appreciate? Todd’s naturally exceptional height—he’d been just over 6-foot-5 since he was twelve—was accentuated by a long, handsome face and a lean, extremely defined physique that radiated extreme lickability even through his red buffalo-check work shirt and loose, straight-leg jeans. His chestnut-brown one-day beard perfectly framed his face and brought out his vivid, coppery eyes, even in this light. Anyone drinking in his extra-lean and lanky form, hard body, and sweet smile would guess correctly he was dusted with hair in all right places, instinctively graceful, and phenomenally hung. Todd Ryland was sex on a stick, and every could see it—everyone except him.

“You came!” Todd said, sounding almost surprised.

“Course I did!” Jay said. “Happy 25, babe!”

“Aw, thanks.”

“What’d your other boyfriends get you?” Jay teased, nodding toward the crowd of wellwishers now gloomily gathered at Rocky’s end of the bar, some of them casting longing glances Todd’s way.

Todd rolled his eyes. “They just want the good vodka,” he said dismissively. He twisted his mouth coyly. “Did you bring me a present?”

Instead of answering, Jay gestured toward his sturdily built, heavily bearded friend. “Toddo, this is my college buddy, Wiz. Wiz, this is my boyfriend, Todd Ryland.”

Todd seemed to notice Wiz for the first time. He grinned brilliantly at the man. “Nice to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand.

Wiz cast a meaningful look at Jay, as if offering him one last chance to back out. Jay nodded, and Wiz gripped Todd’s hand firmly and shook. “Hala izan, Todd Ryland,” Wiz said portentously. Then he added with a wink, “It means, ‘Happy birthday.’”

Todd smiled at him. “Thanks,” he said. “Wiz, huh? Why they call you that, did you pee a lot in college?” he joked.

Wiz’s sapphire-purple eyes seemed to twinkle. “No, that’s not the reason,” he said cryptically.

“Come dance with me!” Jay said.

Todd agreed eagerly, and, slipping out from behind the bar, he took Jay’s hand and led him out into the milling mini-throng of low-key dirty-dancers. They found a spot and started moving together, Todd’s height giving him a birds-eye view of the other patrons gyrating in twos and threes around them to a one-hit wonder from 2005 Jay had forgotten even existed.

Jay felt Todd’s attention being caught by one of the other dancers, and having already gotten a look at the crowd Jay could guess which one. He twisted to look over his shoulder—sure enough, it was the thirty-something bodybuilder—the one who barely topped out at a good six inches short of Jay’s 5-foot-11, with the boyish face, the crew-cut, and the straining Pixies tee. He was fairly noticeable, especially as he’d been dancing energetically this whole time with an equally short but more waifish-looking partner. When Jay looked knowingly back up at Todd, he saw exactly the face he expected to see—not so much lust as envy.

“Man, I wish I was like him,” Todd said as they moved to the beat, confirming what Jay already knew he’d been thinking. “Look at that bulk, those bulges, that ass! His pecs are like a shelf!” he said wistfully. “I kill myself at the gym every week and all I get is—”

“Godlike definition?” Jay suggested.

“Exactly,” Todd groused, not taking it as the praise Jay had meant it as—the king of not appreciating what he had. For now, Jay thought smugly.

“I bet he even has a normal-sized cock,” Todd muttered, still watching the short bodybuilder longingly. Jay shook his head. Todd was a very horny and very hung guy, but… well, having to deal with an oversized dick getting hard all the time and having to wrestle it into a less-painful position that still left a too-obvious bulge was one more thing he wouldn’t be complaining about much longer. Jay, with his almost absurdly average dick and only medium-high libido, had never quite had that problem. Really, this guy, Jay thought with a small smile.

Todd scratched absently at his checked shirt, as though he were finding it to be oddly tight across the chest, then smiled guilty down at his boyfriend. “Sorry,” he said. He knew Jay was sometimes frustrated by how he talked about his lack of muscle heft.

“No worries,” Jay said easily, watching him closely.

Todd’s dark brows drew together. “You, uh, wearing lifts tonight or something?” he asked, looking his shorter lover up and down.

Jay just smiled.

By the time they left the dance floor twenty minutes later, Todd was preoccupied with his top fitting him all wrong—squeezing him uncomfortably hard across the chest and shoulders and falling loose and weirdly low over his crotch and ass, like it had gotten narrower and longer at the same time. “What is up with this thing?” he grumbled as they headed toward the back, shoulder to shoulder. He kept pulling at it in frustration before finally jerking the buttons open and pulling the shirt off with difficulty, leaving him in only a thin white undershirt that showed off his spread of chest hair as well as his unexpectedly thick upper body.

“Wow, Todd, you been working out?” somebody said as they passed, eyeing Todd’s meaty pecs.

Todd, however, was too caught up in getting his shirt all the way off to reply—literally, as the cuffs were snagging on his swollen forearms and Todd had to unbutton them awkwardly, something he normally never bothered with. “What the hell?” he said, yanking the shirt off finally—only to trip on the excess length of his jeans getting caught under his heel. He pitched to the side, Jay grabbing his and steadying him just in time.

“Whoa there, hot stuff!” Jay chuckled, bracing him on both sides with a firm grip on his packed upper arms.

“What is going—” Todd started to say, only to realize he was staring Jay right in the eyes. “—on?” he finished weakly.

“How do you like the weather down here?” Jay joked.

They were near the back bar again, which was quiet at the moment. Rocky turned just then and froze at the sight of Todd in his straining tee shirt. “Holy cow, Ryland,” the bartender rasped, nodding at Todd’s dramatically protruding pecs. “Where ya been hiding those?”

Todd gaped at him, then returned his astonished coppery gaze to Jay, who still held him by the upper arms. “Wha—?” he said.

“Happy birthday,” Jay said.

Todd looked down at himself, then back up at his boyfriend. “I’m—” he started to say. Jay nodded encouragingly. “—shrinking? And—growing?”

Jay grinned at him. “Not exactly!” he said. “You’re getting shorter, but you’re keeping every single pound of muscle.” He wanted to add something like “Miss your height and beautiful lean bod yet?”, but it seemed important for Todd to develop his own reactions first and come around to things naturally.

Todd’s amazed expression grow thoughtful. “Your friend isn’t called Wiz because he pissed a lot,” he said shrewdly.

Jay finally let Todd go, straightening a little—revealing in the process that he actually had an inch or so on Todd now. He patted Todd’s stubbled cheek. “I always said you were smarter than you looked,” he teased.

“Ha, ha.” Todd went back to staring down at himself, half-forgetting the tall-guy shirt he clutched in his right hand. The music mixed into an ABBA tune, inevitably pulling people onto the dance floor. As guys streamed past, a lot of gazes lingered on Todd, and for once his pecs and arms were getting more ogling than his face. The shrinking bartender didn’t notice—he was doing a bit of Todd-ogling himself.

“Weird, huh?” Jay prompted him.

“Weirdly awesome,” Todd breathed, groping his swelling pecs with his free hand. Jay blinked at him, realizing too late the flaw in his plan—or maybe letting himself be aware of what he’d known all along: Far from gaining a new appreciation for all the things Jay thought Todd took for granted, Todd’s kink for short and muscular meant he was totally into this increasingly compact, studmuffin version of himself. And he wasn’t even all done yet. When he was finished shrinking… he would be his own personal wet dream.

Looking his boyfriend over from this new perspective of his own, Jay had to admit he didn’t blame him. Well, fuck, he thought. Improvise, adapt, and overcome, right?

Todd suddenly looked up at him with round, kid-at-Christmas eyes. Jay sucked in a breath—Todd actually was looking up at him, too. “I gotta see!” he said eagerly.

Jay blinked at him, feeling himself getting hard. Fuck, even his voice was a tone or two higher. And how did he look even more handsome at this angle? He swallowed and said, “Later. Let’s dance, stud!”

He shook his head, not in negation but grinning wonder. “I can’t! My pants—”

Jay shrugged. “Roll up your cuffs.”

“But—I’m shrinking, right?” Todd protested, still grinning. “Won’t I step right out of my boots?”

Jay’s smile went crooked. “That won’t be a problem.”

Todd tossed his head back, calling attention to an increasingly massive neck, and let out a guffaw. “Ha! You and your thing for big feet!”

“Something we have in common,” Jay said knowingly.

Todd’s eyes darkened. Jay realized his lover was a good three or four inches shorter than him now, and just the angle at which they were looking at each other was turning them both on. Then, as if as one, they looked down at Todd’s body. He was ripped, keeping all his leanness, but his compacted mass was making him look like a fucking beast. Even his stretchy undershirt was having trouble holding in his hard, heavy pecs and delts, straining across his vein-mapped upper arms and even clinging to his literally bricklike abs. Todd’s jeans, too, were pulled tight at the thighs like his insanely dense brawn might actually rip them apart at any moment.

Todd let out a shuddering breath and reached to adjust himself out of habit—only, that was the one place his pants weren’t straining to contain their contents. Todd had to be as hard as Jay was, but now all it took was a shove with the heel of his hand and his disproportionately reduced erection was dealt with.

“How do you like your new look now, little Todd?” Jay said huskily. He’d meant it as a playful taunt about his smaller package—a nudge that this shrinking thing wasn’t meant to be all peaches and cream—but when Todd looked back up at him, actual awe in his eyes, Jay knew that the whole thing was off the course and steering straight into all of Todd’s fetishes like Thelma and Louise into the Grand Canyon.

“I love it!” Todd whispered honestly, throwing his arms around him and crushing his head against Jay’s chest. Jay’s cock throbbed hard against Todd’s stone-hard abs, and suddenly Jay wanted to see, too. He wanted to see, and touch, and lick, and fuck. He wanted to nail this studmuffin into the ground. He wrapped his own arms around Todd and held him, hard, as the crowd around them moved and laughed.

“Can I keep it?” Todd said into Jay’s firm chest, only just audible over the song currently filling up the place (which, for some reason, was “Barbie Girl” by Aqua). Everyone was dancing now, not just on the dance floor but in the space by the bar where they now stood as well, so that without meaning to Todd and Jay had ended up surrounded by the whole Friday night bar crowd.

Todd looked up at him. He had to be his destination height of 5-foot-5 now, exactly a foot shorter and so jacked with super-dense muscle he could go on a bodybuilder stage tomorrow. His vivid coppery eyes were the same, though, and they were filled with love—love for the man who’d managed to stumble on exactly the perfect birthday gift. “Is it just for tonight, or—?”

Jay swallowed and looked over to the far end of the bar where he’d left Wiz. All his friend had to do was utter the counter-spell and Todd would go back to his original tall, lean, extra-hung bod, having gained a new perspective on his towering beauty. Wiz, however, was nowhere to be seen, and Jay knew instinctively that the bearded man had guessed this would be the outcome all along. This, it seemed, was their normal now.

Jay turned back and smiled down at Todd. That was all the answer his guy needed. Eagerly, he pulled Jay down into a fierce, passionate kiss that brought them both to the brink. Who’d have thought the best kiss of his life would be with a shorter, thicker version of his sweet, beautiful, forever-sexy man?

Jay smiled to himself as he settled in at his souped-up, double-monitored coding workstation at Wexler Animation Studios, his happy smirk momentarily visible in the black of the two screens before he jiggled the mouse, waking the machine up so he could log in for a new week of making pigs fly and chickens fall in love. He couldn’t get Friday night or the ensuing weekend out of his head, and he doubted he ever would. He had his dream job, dream employers, and now, unexpectedly, the man of his dreams—only these were dreams he hadn’t even known he’d been having.

It was supposed to be a gift of perspective, the kind you could only get if your college buddy had quietly revealed himself to be a wizard way back when. A wizard who owed you a favor or two thanks to a long-ago night of puerile post-finals excess involving a gang of rowdy celebrants, a few cases of Pabst, an unexpected ralph in the walk-in closet of Jay’s one-percenter parents’ hilltop McMansion, and Jay taking the heat for said ralph despite the stinking mess belonging to a certain ginger-bearded, secretly magical bestie. After that had come the big reveal, along with the unexpected, slightly awkward secondary disclosure that inebriation via cheap beer tended to blunt one’s magical abilities, should you have any (explaining Wiz’s failed attempts to obviate the steaming pile of puke via sorcery). With that had come to promise of a favor, one that Jay hadn’t really thought about until years later, when he’d started to understand just how unhappy his boyfriend was being tall, lean, massively hung, and the constant focus of male fascination at his place of employment, a low-intensity gay club full of hot guys looking for hotter guys.

Jay keyed in his login and watched his email come up, his mind still on the Friday before. It was supposed to be temporary. It was a simple plan: Toddo loses his height and monster dick and swaps “lanky” for “swole,” causing him to have a sweet little epiphany over just how good he had it; whereupon he’d get his height and dick back, and Toddo would have a new perspective and finally be relaxed and happy. Like an animated Christmas special, only dirty. Then Toddo had thrown a wrench in things by absolutely loving his foot-shorter, thick-muscled, stubby-cocked fireplug form. His one-night-only, lesson-in-appreciation body was actually Toddo’s deepest fantasy. When his lover had looked up at him then, his eyes shining with excitement and adoration, Jay had clued in that he’d completely misunderstood Jay’s minor but persistent melancholy.

The chagrin of that realization could easily have turned to heartbreak when the spell wore off, Jay knew. Fortunately, and even more unexpectedly, it had turned out that his buddy Wiz, whether out of third-party objectivity or some kind of eldritch empathic sensitivity, had correctly divined Jay’s lover’s feelings better than Jay had, and had given Toddo what he needed instead of what Jay had actually asked for. Jay was sure he was the one that owed Wiz a favor now. Thanks to him Todd and Jay’s happiness had ratcheted up a couple notches to something like bliss, in a way neither of them could never have anticipated being real.

Jay smiled, feeling a trickle of heat run through him as he stared at a stack of new bolded emails without really seeing them. Dancing with Toddo, sharing his uncomplicated joy at his new compact form as they’d rocked out with a hundred other guys to the muted nineties pop-techno mixes the Playful Dove’s Friday night DJ specialized in, had been amazing. Then they’d gone home…

Jay’s back itched, and he shifted in his sturdy gaming-quality chair, his cock swelling in his lose, dark-khaki chinos as he remembered what had happened then. He shifted his shoulders without really thinking, trying to get his loose strawberry broadcloth polo to resettle itself across his back, while his attention stayed almost completely fixed on the cab ride home after the Dove had finally closed, and what had happened behind closed doors. Toddo had been a pistol, unstoppable and full of energy, and that had sparked an equal exuberance in Jay. They’d made love like they were inventing new worlds of pleasure. In a way they were, for them. Tall-’n’-hung Todd had never wanted to top, too afraid he’d hurt someone with his ginormo-dick—plus Jay had suspected he also resented the expectation he’d be the top because of his size and the dominating intensity of his charisma, and elected to bottom because of it. Jay had gone along with this; he didn’t mind topping and he certainly liked the opportunity it gave him to ogle Todd from above. Then, that revelatory night, short-’n’-beefy Todd had used his increased strength to take control, slamming his now-bigger lover against the walls before tossing him onto the bed, tearing his clothes off, and fucking him senseless… and Jay had loved it. They had both loved it.

Then Todd had rolled him over for a second round and let Jay top him that time, only now it was slow and passionate… lovemaking at a level of intensity they hadn’t known before. There’d even been a third time, a half-delirious, very sloppy sixty-nine session that somehow produced yet another huge mutual orgasm just as potent and brain-melting as the first two. They’d melted into sleep wrapped up in each other’s naked forms before they’d even finished their post-ejaculation cum-sharing kiss, falling into dreams of more intertwined pleasure and more heartfelt lovemaking.

Jay had been sure all that sex was born of the pure excitement of the night, stoked by the transformation and their shared discovery of Todd’s truest desires. Except… well, Toddo’s stamina and libido seemed to have grown in proportion to his loss of height, because he had been ready to go and needing to make love to Jay all the damn weekend. Not only that, this aspect of Todd’s upgrade was also apparently oddly infectious, because Jay, never before a three-climaxes-a-night libertine like he had been Friday night, was now keeping up with Toddo fuck for fuck and orgasm for orgasm. That lusty grin and those twinkling eyes from his shorter, brawnier lover had turned into insta-viagra for him, forcing him to sprout the latest in an apparently endless supply of indefatigable stone-hard erections every time he saw them. The result was a lost weekend of tireless, rapturous lovemaking interrupted only by brief meals, occasional exhausted sleep-cuddling, and maybe a couple of giddy, laughing online shopping binges for wacky new clothes to fit Todd’s revised physique.

Fuck, Jay was getting hard now at his desk just thinking about Toddo’s face, and his spirit, and his boundless lust. He shifted uneasily in his chair again, his whole body feeling flushed and strange, the way it had all weekend. In bed with Todd it had seemed eminently natural, but experiencing these sensations at work, with fluorescents overhead and the noise of the city filtering through the plate-glass sixth-story windows, was making him feel like a bit of a horndog. He glanced around and shifted his chair slightly closer to his desk. His workspace wasn’t exactly in a high-traffic area where passing gofers and bathroom-breakers might spot the bulge of his lengthening chubby, but it was safer in the shadows nonetheless.

Was he experiencing a side effect of Wiz’s spell on Todd? Had there been some kind of magical… blowback? Wiz had casually mentioned something along these lines—how magic was difficult to control, even for an adept like himself, and it didn’t always all go where it was intended to. It was one of the reasons why wizards didn’t use their magic as often as you’d expect: there were always side effects.

Jay smirked to himself. If increased horniness and the ability to make love to Toddo whenever he wanted it was a lateral contingency of the all-changing birthday wish, he could deal with that.

He squirmed again in his chair, genuinely uncomfortable now. What was the deal with his polo and chinos today? It was like everything was the wrong size. He was just about to get up and head for the restroom to check things out when a video chat popped up on his screen and his GQ cover-model boss, Pete, was staring up at him from the little square window.

“Morning Jay!” he said cheerily, then frowned slightly. “Uh, can you tilt up your webcam a little? I don’t need to be looking at your chest—nice though it is,” he added drolly.

Jay felt his brows draw together. Sure enough, the little side window showing what his camera was transmitting showed only an expanse of strawberry fabric, gently shaped by his defined swimmer’s pecs. Confused, he reached over and tilted the high-end webcam unit attached to his monitor upward a few degrees, bringing his face into view.

“That’s better,” Pete said. “Decided to go blond over the weekend, huh? Works for you. Kinda makes you look like Ryan Gosling, actually. Only tall, I guess,” he joked.

Jay blinked and nodded. A lot like, he thought absently. Another side-effect? Suddenly his lips twitched. Fuck, was that his fantasy, or Toddo’s? Where did the magical bleedover go when it bled, and whose desires did it fulfill?

Pete finally got to the topic at hand—the gay chicken romance short had a new scene to be storyboarded, evidently. After a bit of discussion Pete closed the window, leaving Jay alone with his thoughts.

Having an inkling of what was going on now, Jay slowly rose from his chair, staring down at himself in anticipation. As he stood his loose polo seemed to ride up ridiculously on his long torso, so that by the time he’d straightened it exposed a good four inches of firm, defined abs. He lifted the shirt, exposing more abs, and still more—that had to be a ten-pack, he thought. Stooping to look at his legs he saw they they were similarly compromised: his chinos were also showing a good several inches of sock and even a bit of tanned, lightly hairy shin. Thank goodness he’d dressed comfortably this morning in his baggiest clothes! He’d thought it was just a desire to be as slouchy as possible after such a louche, carnal weekend, but maybe there had been a bit of presentiment there as well.

He gazed down at himself with a kind of effervescent awe. Given the overlap of shirt and trousers and trousers and shoe beforehand, the gaps he was looking at probably constituted nearly a whole foot of growth. A thought struck him, and his pulse quickened. What if it was exactly a foot—the same twelve inches of height Todd had lost? It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that had happened this weekend to find out it had had to go somewhere.

His mind reeled. He’d already been 5-foot-11. Another foot taller meant… fuck, it meant he was in for a lot of ducking under doorways from now on. He realized the thought turned him on intensely, and he was aware again of his already half-hard dick, which was now making a much larger bulge down the leg of his khakis than he was used to seeing. He’d been pretty substantial before, but Toddo had lost a fair amount in that department as well, and all those inches had now apparently come home to roost in his own, now-oversized junk.

He bit his lip and made a quick decision. Pulling out his phone, he texted Pete that he had had a sudden clothing emergency and would start on the new storyboards after some lunchtime shopping for replacement duds. And if he decided to stop home and wake his hot studmuffin boyfriend for a new round of breaking in the new body? Well, he thought with a very specific movie-star grin as he tucked his phone away and headed for the exit, Pete didn’t need to know about that part.

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