Bartholomew learns to relax

by Dream Big

An uptight college boy wakes up after a Halloween party with a couple of changes he wasn’t expecting.

Bartholomew knew he shouldn’t have gone to the party.

But no, he had promised his roommate Nick he would go with him.

Nick had a knack for hare-brained schemes and impulsive choices. He was a sweet guy, and never meant harm, but he rarely thought through consequences—and, annoyingly, rarely suffered them. He led a charmed life. He was cute, just athletic enough to be aesthetically pleasing without being bulky, just smart enough to maintain a solid B average without working too hard. He was chatty and friendly and got along with everyone. He’d have a beer with you, or a hit of your joint, but never really got stupid high or drunk—he seemed to produce an abundance of homegrown good vibes and chill.

Consequently, he walked around with a sort of innocent charm that he had no clue about. He was genuinely interested in everything, and was game for all of it if it meant doing something with a friend, but never to extremes. And by the end of freshman year, Nick had innocently fucked his way through about a third of the undergraduate population—without, somehow, leaving a trail of broken hearts and jilted lovers in his wake.

So, a bit of a fuck boy, but one you just couldn’t be mad at. He was just too much fun to be around, and his carefree and sweet nature meant he stayed on friendly terms with pretty much all his exes. He and Bartholomew, however, had never hooked up, despite being fast friends and roommates.

Bartholomew had arrived as uptight and in denial as any freshman, and suffered from anxiety, particularly about physical contact—which had left him with a big fat zero for a love life. But he pushed himself as much as he dared to break out of his shell, and he was good about his meds, and things got better. Maybe something about Nick’s influence started to rub off on him, or maybe it was just that Nick was the social lubricant he needed to feel comfortable meeting new people. He was still pretty shy, but he’d made real progress. He’d also begun to figure out, as he watched Nick go home with boys and girls and men and women, that he was probably at least bi-curious. And when he haltingly revealed that to Nick, he’d gotten a big warm hug and nothing but support. It was not even a shock that when he asked Nick to take him to the LGBTQ+ group meeting, they all knew Nick.

Bartholomew had gone home for the summer but he and Nick planned to room together the next year too. At home, Bartholomew had some difficult conversations—and a much more strained relationship with his family and his brothers in particular. It wasn’t mean, just uncomfortable, and his brothers just didn’t get it at all. His folks chalked it up to being a phase and his therapist was thrilled at his progress, but in the end, it was a bit of a meaningless coming out without having dated boys or girls at all. He’d been glad to return to college.

The first few weeks had been fine—classes were fine, and people had mostly not noticed him unless they already knew him, or he was with Nick (who seemed to know everyone). Physically, he had barely changed since freshman weekend—sandy hair, average height and weight, average build. But Nick, of course, had somehow gained a bit of muscle which only made him cuter. The new dorm had a bit more privacy—they shared a bathroom and a small living area—and Nick tended to wind up in other beds as often as not. And then suddenly, he seemed to pick up on Nick feeling left out, and made a point to stay home a few nights to hang with his bro. They’d agreed that they’d hang at least one night a week, but Nick also prodded him to go out and do something at least one night a week, too.

So when Halloween party season started, of course Nick wanted to hit one or two of them, and Nick was just swept along in the momentum.

The last thing Bartholomew remembered from that night was drinking the punch at a frat house mixer.

Which is why, when he woke up to a very loud noise, he grabbed his large floppy ears and pulled them closed, and rolled over into a ball.

Wait, what large floppy ears?

He sat up suddenly, and his nausea decided to really kick in. He stumbled for the bathroom and barely got into position before he barfed his brains out. When he was sure the demon had left his guts, he pulled himself to the sink and up to the mirror.

And there, atop his head, were two long white rabbit ears.

He squealed in shock and sank down to the floor.

“Bro, you okay?” That was Nick’s voice outside the bathroom door.

“Not really,” Bartholomew replied.

“Are you naked or something?”

“No!”

“Okay, man, coming in…”

Bartholomew didn’t know what to say or do—he just sat there on the commode, staring blankly at his big white bunny ears, which had begun to mirror his expression.

“What the actual fuck,” Nick said, unconsciously reaching out to touch the new appendages.

“Don’t!”

“Sorry man, I couldn’t help it. They’re ….real, aren’t they?”

“How the heck should I know?”

“Dude, they’re your ears. Wait where are your regular ears?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Bartholomew’s eyes darted wildly in sheer panic.

“Whoa, dude, focus and breathe man, it’s all good!” Nick said. This wouldn’t be the first time he had talked Bartholomew down from a spike. “Name three things you can see…”

A few minutes later, he was at least breathing easier. But he was torn between looking anywhere but the mirror, and looking at the mirror. Nick picked up on that and leaned against the sink to block his view.

“Okay. Let’s think logically.”

“I would love to know what logic could possibly explain this. Go on, try!”

“Hey man, I’m just trying to help. Gotta break it down, right? So, it’s either magic or mad science, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Bartholomew said, deadpan.

“So… did you drink anything? Or, hey, were there any pet rabbits at the party?”

“I don’t remember anything after we got there and I had a glass of punch.”

“The big bowl of that orange sherbet ginger ale stuff?”

“Pretty sure there was a gallon of vodka in it, but yeah.”

“Well, I had that too, and no bunny ears,” Nick said. “But I’m guessing you had a lot ,ore of it than I did. You hit the booze pretty hard from what I remember but it was a really good party.”

“Did I have these last night?”

“Not that I remember. Keith said you walked home early. That was around 1am.”

“Keith?”

“Goth guy? Tall, dark hair, eye makeup?”

“I think I do remember talking to him,” Bartholomew said. And then realization dawned. He’d made out with that guy!

“Ah, now you remember! You and he were getting kind of steamy and went upstairs. I was like, finally! And then later, Keith said you went home. When I got in around 3:30, your door was open and you were buried under the covers.”

“I barely remember that. Maybe he knows something?”

“Did you get his number?”

“I barely got his name,” he replied.

“Well,” Nick said, “I’m sure someone will have it, I’ll ask around.”

“Nick, what the heck am I supposed to do?”

“Hmm. They’re kind of cute, you know. Weird, but kind of adorable.”

“Nick!”

“I’m thinking! I mean, either you skip class today, or you go in. But we both have Gardner for Western cCiv, and he always asks for a note from the health center to excuse the absence. You could go to the health center, but I don’t think they can help beyond the note. You can try to hide them or make them part of a costume or something. Like those weeb hats?”

“Oh god my life is over.”

“Nah, man. We’ll figure something out. Go ahead and shower and I’ll see what I can come up with while I make coffee.”

Nodding blankly, Bartholomew began to strip and turned on the shower…only belatedly realizing that Nick was still in the room.

“You…you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not. But I’m also gross and I do need to shower.”

There may have been some aggressive scrubbing elsewhere, but Bartholomew was very careful about washing his hair, and gingerly touched his ears after some soul-searching.

They felt nice, actually. And before he realized he was doing it, he found himself gently massaging the soft fur with shampoo. It was calming, somehow.

He toweled off, drying carefully, and discovered quite by accident that he actually had a pretty good range of motion. They swiveled and bent as needed with no real thought or effort, but actively controlling them required a bit of a mental leap.

He also realized they were far more sensitive than his original ears—he could hear pretty much every noise in the house with remarkable accuracy, and even though the bathroom fan seemed inordinately loud, he could still hear Nick working in the kitchen. He turned off the fan and wrapped the towel around his waist, and darted into his room to pull on some clothes.

And then he joined Nick at the counter, pouring a bowl of cereal and an accepting the steaming cup of black coffee Nick handed him.

“Feeling a little better?”

“A little.”

“Here, try this on,” Nick said, tossing his bro a large light grey knit beanie. “I think your ears might fit in it.”

Bartholomew considered his options, and reluctantly tried it on.

“Feels weird,” he said.

“Looks okay, though. It doesn’t hurt your ears or muffle your hearing does it?”

“No, actually. This might work. For now at least.”

“Good, bro, that’s awesome. Now let’s finish up and head over to class.”

The lecture went surprisingly well, and was interesting enough to keep Bartholomew from constantly googling for answers to his personal dilemma. In fact, he’d been so engrossed he almost forgot about his predicament for a while. He did notice that Nick, who’d sat next to him, kept staring at him, though.

As class ended, Bartholomew quickly packed his things to leave, while Nick was, as usual, cornered by three or four classmates with amiable chatter. Bartholomew left him to it, but before he reached the end of the hall, Nick had caught up.

“Where you going, man?”

“I don’t exactly want to hang out with a crowd right now,” he said.

“Me neither. I get it, bro. But I need to figure out how to get hold of Keith for you.”

Bartholomew leaned his head against a wall and waited for a moment as the rest of the hall emptied out.

“You going to the health center?”

“Please. They will have no clue what to do about this. I’m going back to the room to dig for answers online.”

“Okay. Text if you need anything, I’ve still got another class today. I’ll grab your usual lo mein on the way home, if you want.”

Nick was the best.

Almost three hours later, Nick got home and found his roommate hunched over a computer, typing away. He still had the beanie on.

“I could hear you two floors away.”

“Okayyy,” Nick said. “You gonna take that hat off? Can’t be comfortable.”

“I guess. I kinda got used to it.”

“Oh,” Nick said.

“What do you mean oh?”

“Um. You may want to check your hair in the mirror, man.”

Bartholomew dashed to the bathroom and gasped.

His sandy blond hair had gone completely white.

“What the hell!?!”

Nick sheepishly followed him into the bathroom, intending to console his friend, when they both realized something else.

Normally, both guys were 5’10”. But now, Nick was clearly a few inches taller—if you didn’t count the ears, of course…

“What the hell!?!?!!” Fuck, the panic attack again.

“Hey man, it works for you!”

“What the hell is going on?”

“No idea, man, but you are gonna be okay, I’m here, you’re safe.”

And so it was Nick to the rescue again, going through the breathing and focusing again with him, until finally Bartholomew could breathe again.

“I dunno, B, it may be weird but it is undeniably cute.”

Bartholomew didn’t even want to look at himself, but somehow Nick convinced him to take stock, so that at least they knew what had happened if not why.

Setting aside the foot long bunny ears that had somehow replaced his own, his hair had gone completely white—the same white as his new ears. His eyebrows hadn’t; they’d been sort of a darker blond than his hair before, and if anything they looked a little darker. But he’d also gone from a firm 5’11” to about 5’8”.

“I don’t want cute, I want my height back and my ears back and my hair back to normal.”

“Heh. Did you check if the carpet matched the drapes?”

“…No,” Bartholomew said. “But I have to pee anyway.”

In the bathroom, two things became clear.

The carpet definitely matched the drapes. Perfectly white, but like his head hair, otherwise the same.

But that could not be said of his cock, which felt a bit heftier in his hand as he hauled it out to take a piss. He finished, and yet still the disk remained in his hand. Was he imagining things?

“I can’t exactly go out there and say hey bro, does my dick look bigger to you,” he muttered. Though as soon as he thought it, he could imagine just that. And Nick would protest that he couldn’t know but he’d be happy to help find out, and…

“Nice cock, bro,” nick said, leaning against the door. “You should shut this thing if you don’t want company,” he laughed.

“Shut up,” Bartholomew replied, trying to tuck his cock back into his boxers.

Unfortunately, his dick decided to put up a fight, and quickly got to half mast. Which was, unaccountably, roughly the size his dick had been, hard, yesterday.

“Damn, if I didn’t know better I’d swear you just bleached everything. But I had no clue you were packing.”

“Neither did I. Pretty sure this is kind of new, too.”

“Dude, that’s kind of hot, though,” Nick said. “How big are you normally,” he asked in a somewhat husky voice.

“Like, six. Average.” Both their eyes were glued to the rising star of Bartholomew’s trousers, which was definitely bigger than that already, and clearly not yet finished.

“That,” Nick said, “is at least as big as mine, and I’m about 7 and a half.”

“Shit, this is weird.” He kept growing, throbbing and stretching.

“Fuck, bro, I’ll grab the tape,” Nick said, and darted over to the kitchenette to grab the measuring tape.

Bartholomew sat there stunned as his penis stretched into new territory, torn between mounting terror as his body did yet another weird thing, and the sheer erotic pleasure of watching your own dick get bigger.

“Move your hand,” Nick said, suddenly kneeling in front of him. “Fuck, that’s gotta be about nine inches….yeah, just a little over, actually.” He broke into a wide grin. “Hey, found the three inches you lost, man!”

Bartholomew felt like time slowed way down for a moment as his brain grappled with the latest impossibility. Nick’s lopsided grin slowly dropped, and his head slowly inched down, even as his big brown eyes lost their usual mischief and became serious and focused. He was seeking consent, and before he knew it, Bartholomew had nodded.

Nick was already gobbling his cock when reality snapped back into position. Bartholomew’s hands braced either side of the little toilet alcove as he writhed under his best friend’s ministrations. Nick was clearly no stranger to cock and it didn’t take long for him to work himself al, the way down to his friend’s thicket of shockingly white pubes. He sucked in air, deeply, Mao in, before his throat did this little half-swallow that tipped Bartholomew over the edge. Nick greedily slurped down the eight or nine shots of hot jizz and lovingly cleaned his buddy’s super sensitive penis off as he pulled back.

“Damn, bro, you come a lot. You also smell amazing down there. Did you notice?”

“All I can smell is salty bleach,” Bartholomew replied, dreamily.

“Your spunk tasted pretty good to me,” Nick said, matter of factly. “That was nice, we should do that more often.”

“I agree,” Bartholomew replied lazily.

“Maybe not in the bathroom, next time, okay bud?” Nick stood up, smiling and unconcerned as always, and did a quick mirror check before washing his hands quickly and leaving the room.

Over leftovers, they talked about how to explain Bartholomew’s changes. Nick argued for sticking with the beanie, and explaining the hair as a dye job due to a bet lost. They’d gaslight anyone who challenged the height.

“Okay, I guess it’s a plan. Better than nothing.”

“Cool,” Nick said, breezily. “Now about the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“That king-size carrot you brought to the table,” he said.

Bartholomew blushed. “How can you just say stuff like that?” He mumbled.

“Hah! But really, that’s a big one. And you probably went down a size everywhere else, so you may need to be careful managing things for a bit.”

“Oh. For a minute I thought you were offering to help next time I got a boner.”

“Sure, man. Anytime.”

“Is it because I have a big dick now?”

“What? Dude, I’ve been down to fool around since the first week freshman year. I tried everything to get your attention. I figured you were ace for like, the longest time. And then I figured you knew and weren’t into me. The big old schlong is great and all—really nice—but you were already on my list.”

Bartholomew simply didn’t know how to react to that. He’d been actively pining for a year, twisting himself into circles trying to convince himself sexy Nick was off the table.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey, hey, no, come here buddy,” Nick grabbed him in a big sweet hug. “I should have said something. Or at least guessed your anxiety was in the way.” He pulled Bartholomew’s head toward his own and gently kissed his hair, and stroked the snow-white tresses.

“Why am I like this?” Bartholomew sobbed.

“You just are. No biggie.”

“I mean why am I an anxious mess, not why am I suddenly a fucking bunny,” Bartholomew sniffed.

“Same answer either way. None of it matters to me, bro.”

“Can we just…I dunno, cuddle for a bit?”

“Sure, bro. Let’s put on a movie or something.”

By the end of the evening, they’d wound up cuddled on Bartholomew’s bed watching anime. Nick found himself stroking his friend’s soft hair, and eventually, his soft ears. At first, they twitched at his caress, but eventually Bartholomew relaxed into it and Nick found it soothing, too.

Luckily, it was the weekend, and neither of them had class or campus jobs. So they opted to stay in their dorm as long as they could. Something of the cuddle vibe persisted, at least until nature demanded they address some bodily functions. There was as yet no further change, at least not physically.

Bartholomew was pretty reluctant to go out, but eventually Nick, in a bout of uncharacteristic pragmatism, pointed out that he should look for clothing, at least.

“I think you’ve gone down at least a size, dude. Maybe not in underwear, but everywhere else. And maybe pick up another hat.”

Bartholomew knew his friend was right. And so he allowed himself to be talked into wearing some sweats with a drawstring and a baggy shirt, slid into his sneakers—which somehow still fit okay—popped on the beanie, and followed Nick to the beat up Toyota Nick called Sally.

“Walmart or Target?”

“Ugh, Target. I can’t even with Walmart.”

They beelined for Men’s Clothing, and grabbed a few items to try on. Sure enough, he’d dropped a full size. But the underwear situation would likely need more thought. For now, he grabbed a pack of boxers and hoped they’d contain his enhanced package. If they fit okay, he’d get more.

It was when he started trying on a sweater when he noticed another change.

“Nick!” He hissed, in terrible sotto voce. “Nick!”

“What’s up man, I was looking at these retro tees.”

“Did I have abs this morning?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Well, I do now!”

“Lemme see,” Nick said. Bartholomew opened the door after glancing around quickly.

“Sweet!”

“I never had abs before,” Bartholomew mused, turning to face the mirror in just the sweatpants he’d tried on. “I’m not complaining.”

“Me neither,” Nick muttered, but his focus was on his friend’s pert little butt.

“You’re not even looking. How do I flex these? Oh, like this,” Bartholomew said, giggling.

“Huh? Yeah, you got it. Damn, that’s kind of not fair. I barely have abs and I hit the gym all the time!”

“Were you eyeing my butt?”

“It’s the new pants. They really show it off.”

Bartholomew found himself flexing his butt cheeks, just to see if he could. The blush that elicited from Nick confirmed that it did.

“Hey, let’s buy this stuff and go home. Meet you at the front, B,” Nick said.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be there in a minute, gotta grab something.”

Five or so minutes later, Bartholomew was in line when Nick ambled into view with a bag from the pharmacy.

“What’s that?”

“I’ll show you later.”

“Okay, be mysterious,” Bartholomew replied.

They made it all the way to the car, and inside it, before Nick’s control broke and he grabbed his friend for an enthusiastic kiss.

“What was that all about?”

“Home first. I’ll show you when we get there.”

One very fast trip later, and they were walking quickly from the car park to the dorm. Nick had longer legs now and thus a small advantage, but Nick could tell there was something wrong. He scrambled to keep up.

Finally they opened their door and Nick practically jumped his friend the moment they crossed the threshold.

“What’s going on?” Bartholomew started to say aloud, but it was obvious that his friend was unlikely to reply. Nick had a predatory look as he practically ripped the shirt off Bartholomew, revealing an unexpectedly toned torso with a rather nice four pack, and a downy white patch of hair trailing down into his sweatpants. Nick hadn’t noticed until just then—they’d interrupted their inventory of hair changes yesterday—but even Bartholomew’s pits had gone white. Though they hadn’t been all that hairy to begin with.

“Pants, please,” Nick said, hoarsely.

“What?”

“Take.” Nick said through gritted teeth. “Your pants. Off.”

Bartholomew said nothing, but began to comply. His own loins had begun to stir, stiffening at Nick’s sudden aggressiveness, which made it a little challenging to just pull the sweats off. He fell backwards into the sofa, kicking off his shoes and shrugging the pants down. His cock had shot up and out of his boxers, reaching almost straight up.

For his part, Nick was suddenly aware of both the pert ass and big dick in front of him, and could not decide which he wanted more.

This time the ass won.

“Roll over,” he barked. “I want to see something.”

“What the … don’t tell me I have a bunny tail!”

“No. Just a great ass.”

And Bartholomew, clueless, twisted himself trying to see it for himself.

“Huh, I’m pretty flexible,” the clueless bunny boy said.

Nick jumped onto the couch over him, and kissed him. “Fuck, why are you so sexy?”

“I’m not,” Bartholomew said. “You’re just like crazy horny or something.”

“Shut up and hand me that bag.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“It’s condoms and lube,” Nick said.

Bartholomew looked in the bag. There were a half dozen boxes of condoms and two large tubes of lube.

“What do you think you’re doing with this stuff?” Bartholomew asked coquettishly.

“You,” Nick replied. “And maybe me, if I can fit that huge dong in me.”

Nick was, it must be said, a considerate lover. He was clean, used protection and lube, sought consent, and was down for foreplay and aftercare. He cuddled happily. It all came naturally to him.

But tonight?

Tonight he found himself more than ready to bury his iron cock in Bartholomew as deep as he could, and it was a real effort to slow down. There was something about his friend now that he had changed—something that set off a primal instinct. He felt wild and aggressive.

Bartholomew didn’t mind in the slightest. It got him even harder, watching his buddy go almost feral. His own turgid member was already leaking, before Nick had worked in the first finger. When Nick began to pull his cheeks apart and attack Bartholomew’s hole with his tongue, he gasped and squirmed, and Nick turned up the heat fast. Soon he’d begun to work Bartholomew’s ass with two fingers and the bunny boy writhed under his ministrations, leaking like a sieve. Nick was sweating furiously as he willed himself to hold onto his self-control, but he simply couldn’t help it. His own pleasingly thick 7.5-incher was knocking on Bartholomew’s back door—and soon it was welcomed warmly.

Nick might well be ruined for other guys. His own hands gripped his friend at the waist, which neither of them had noticed had tightened up a bit since morning. But the real action was in the boy’s pert and plump rear and the miraculously satisfying depths it held. And once he was in, he was simply rutting, for all he was worth. For his part, Bartholomew felt like a wanton, empty vessel, gasping and moaning like a cheap hooker and reveling in the uncomplicated pleasure of a really, really good fuck.

And then, two condoms later, they switched gears.

Nick, still panting from his last impressive spurt, found himself mouthing Bartholomew’s huge cock, inexplicably wanting more, and reinvigorated by the spicy-sweet scent of his friend’s pubes. He needed to experience it, needed to feel it another way, and the impressively hard girder seemed more than up to the job.

Nick didn’t usually bottom, though he didn’t object in principle. He didn’t have any real hang-ups about it, but that wasn’t usually what people wanted from him, and he was happy to provide what they wanted. But now, he wanted it, more than anything, wanted that huge pale fuckstick in his ass hitting spots he only suspected he had. He hurriedly grabbed the other box of condoms, because he’d had an inkling this might come up and grabbed a box of the largest they’d had. Which he now ripped open, spilling them out all over the bed and floor. His mouth reluctantly freed Bartholomew’s cock and kissed its way up his 6-pack (wait, wasn’t it four when he saw it earlier?) until he reached his friend’s taut pecs, and nibbled gently at a nipple. Meanwhile, his hands busied themselves rolling an oversized rubber onto an oversized dick.

“Lube,” he said, simply but urgently.

The demand seemed to bypass Bartholomew’s brain, still swimming in pleasure, but his body moved on autopilot. He’d never done this before but it seemed simple enough to follow Nick’s lead, so he squirted a healthy dollop into his hand and stroked his cock with it, then tried to find Nick’s pucker—all the while Nick was nuzzling his neck and saying “hurry” in the space just below where his ears used to be. The vibration was delicious and scrambled his brains a bit more.

Finally Nick couldn’t wait and he reached back and began to lean onto the cock. He didn’t care that he wasn’t prepped, not really. Somehow he knew it would be okay, and if not, he’d live with it. And Bartholomew had used a lot of lube.

Nick’s prior experience was basically three times. Twice had been with smaller of average cocks, and once with a package roughly the same size as his own. Taking Bartholomew was a whole new sport.

That would have been true that morning, when the cock in question was a shade over nine inches long, but neither of them had yet noticed that it had added nearly two more inches by now. So as Nick slowly sunk down on the beast, it seemed to keep going and going. And along the way, it lit up the nerves in his chute like a Christmas tree. He had to stop three times to let his body adjust, each time marveling that there was still more of Bartholomew’s prick to take in.

Below him, more small changes were accumulating on his friend. He’d continued to tone up and slim down, and his eyes, wide with wonder, had become just a little larger, his nose slightly more upturned at the end, his lips just a little plumper, his snowy mop of hair just a little shaggier.

Nick finally bottomed out, feeling utterly full of the pale twink’s enormous cock, and very satisfied with himself that he’d taken the whole thing. It was over eleven inches now, but while it felt massive to Nick, it wasn’t painfully girthy. Wordlessly, Nick nodded and clenched his asshole, and Bartholomew instinctively began to move his narrow hips. And it was Nick’s turn to make little gasps and faint moans as Bartholomew’s lengthy moved through his deepest places. A moment later, things sped up, and the wiry bunny-eared boy was sending shockwaves through Nick. It felt like he was being cored out, but in a good way. Nick wondered if he’d been missing out, then remembered that not everyone had a cock like this.

For a full ten minutes, Bartholomew hammered away at Nick, until finally Nick rolled them over—no longer feeling the need to make a pretense of dominance. And somehow that switch lit a fire in Bartholomew, who lasted another minute in this new configuration before he finally blew, and collapsed on his friend, panting and giggling.

The rest of the day went pretty much like that. The boys spent a fair amount of time cuddling, Nick still full of cock, unwilling to let go. But practical needs won over, and, he reluctantly freed himself to go pee. Meanwhile Bartholomew pulled the bloated oversized condom off his prick and lay back, enjoying feeling sated and comfortable and happy. He felt infused with endorphins. Though by the time Nick finished in the bathroom, he was in dire need of it himself. When he joined Nick in the kitchenette, embracing him from behind, he realized he was probably an inch shorter, again, but somehow that didn’t bother him.

They ate a bit but other appetites quickly won out—especially niece neither of them had bothered to put on a scrap of clothing. Nick had just the presence of mind to down a sport drink and get his buddy to drink one as well. Hydration was key to what had clearly become the plan. And then they were back in the room, making out and headed inexorably toward more sex.

To Nick, the amazing scent he’d discovered in Bartholomew’s pubes seemed to fill the room, keeping him in a near constant state of readiness and need. And for Bartholomew himself, well, like any boy having his first proper sexual encounter, he was utterly overwhelmed and overstimulated. He got a crash course in pleasure, quickly picking up every trick his lover used on him, and repaying it in kind. But while Nick had stamina aplenty, whatever was going on with Bartholomew had gifted him with seemingly unlimited reserves. His cock was insatiable, his ass always ready, and his mouth and tongue constantly busy. When Nick passed out, finally used up after an astounding six rounds of earthshaking orgasms, his lover finally relented and snoozed as well.

Around ten that night, the boys finally conceded defeat, and ordered takeout. Both of them were pretty hungry, and they’d neglected to pick up groceries earlier. Nick almost forgot to put on a pair of boxers to collect the food at the desk downstairs.

When he got back, Bartholomew was naked and measuring his dick.

“Babe, really? How are you hard again? I’m wiped!”

“Wha? Oh, I just got curious,” Bartholomew replied.

“And?”

“I’m apparently 29.2 centimeters. Eleven and five eighths.”

“Goddam. If I grow some bunny ears, will I get a giant cock?”

“You can have mine.”

“I have had yours. Four times. It’s a lot. Donny at the desk had to notice I was walking funny.” Nick continued pulling out containers of Chinese food, but stopped. “Jesus, B, that’s almost double your old dick.”

Bartholomew just nodded, as if it was just another fact. “Yeah, and check this out,” he said, flexing his abs.

“Nice. I love the eight pack.”

“I’m like a perfect Twinkie twunk,” he giggled.

“Yeah. Aren’t you, you know, freaking out anymore?”

“Mostly I’m hungry right now,” Bartholomew replied.

Nick narrowed his eyes and frowned, but said nothing as they began tearing into the soups and dumplings and fried rice and spicy meat. It was clear that Bartholomew’s changes weren’t just physical.

After they ate, they took some more measurements. Bartholomew’s cock never fully softened, but half chubbed he was as big as Nick. He had continued to slim down and tone up, but he’d also lost some more height, resting at a perfect 5’6”—a good four inches shorter than both boys’ original height. His butt had remained perky, though, and his new proportions were classic, verging on ideal. Depending of course on what ideals you had in mind. Oddly, his feet didn’t seem to have shrunk with the rest of him, so his size 9 ½ sneakers still fit just fine. His eyes looked a little bigger and bluer, and his lips a little fuller; you could also see cheekbones and his eyelashes seemed more prominent. He was incrementally sexier than hed been just 8 hours ago.

Before, Bartholomew had been nervous about his inexplicable changes, each mounting absurdity triggering a wave of panic. But now, it was just curiosity. He’d seemingly accepted his changes as a fact he couldn’t alter, and was beginning to enjoy them. He’d let Nick fondle his ears while they cuddled, and seemed to lean into his touch at the slightest provocation, rather than instinctively pulling away.

And he still hadn’t put on pants. Or a shirt. Or underwear.

“Um…are you feeling okay? Nick asked as they settled in on the couch. Bartholomew had stripped his bed while Nick cleaned up, and was letting his room air out a bit.

“Okay?” His friend asked. “I’m feeling pretty good. I’m full of beef and veggie lo mein and cuddling with you after having lost my virginity repeatedly. It’s been a really fun day!”

“It really has,” Nick agreed. “But we still don’t know what’s going on with you. You were pretty worried about it before.”

“I guess. I don’t really want to get any shorter, but I can’t complain about the rest of whatever this is.”

“Not even the ears?”

“Heh. They’re pretty big, huh? Don’t you like them? I realized after we measured—they’re almost exactly the same size as my….” He gestured down playfully.

“What about class, though?”

“Beanie, silly. Your idea.”

“But what about—”

“Shh,” Bartholomew said, swinging around to straddle Nick and placing his finger on the boy’s lips. “For the first time in, like, my whole life, I’m not worrying about it. At least for now. Okay?”

“Okay,” Nick said, a little hesitantly. “I do want to see if Keith knows anything, though. Just to make sure.”

“Okay,” Bartholomew replied, between kisses. “Now, big guy, you want to finish watching this anime, or do you want to ruin another set of sheets?”

By morning, Nick was utterly drained and a little sore. He had managed two more decidedly less impressive orgasms before he tapped out. Bartholomew seemed ready for another round, but when he realized how exhausted Nick was, he relented and happily snuggled up as the little spoon. Eventually his unstoppable dick got the hint and deflated, and the boys slept a good nine hours before they woke up.

Nick was relieved that he didn’t notice any new changes in his lover, but said nothing. He said nothing when Bartholomew lounged around naked while Nick took his shower, either.

“Hey, put some clothes on,” Nick said. “I’m starving and I don’t want cereal. I want greasy diner food.”

“Okay,” Bartholomew said, and quickly returned from his bedroom pulling on the sweatpants he’d just bought. It was obvious he’d gone commando.

“Babe, you need some undies.”

“I tried! They just don’t fit right. I think I may have to change things up a bit.”

“Hmm. That thing swinging around in there might cause a riot. I have some blue speedos in my top drawer, you wanna try them?”

“How have I never seen you Speedo?”

“You never wanted to join swim club. Lots of guys wear them, not just me. But they’re a bit small for me, and even with the stretchy fabric, I don’t wear them a lot. They might keep Mr Bart Jr there contained, and mostly decent.”

“If you say so.” He pranced in a moment later in nothing but the speedos. “They do fit. I think I like them.”

“Yeah, you’ll need the sweats too, B. They’re not going to let us in with you wearing nothing but that overstuffed swimsuit.”

“I know, I just wanted to see your face.” A moment later, he returned wearing sweats and a cropped t-shirt that showed off his lean abs.

“Really?”

“What?!”

“I’ve never seen you wear a crop top before,” Nick said.

“Never had abs to show off before,” Bartholomew shrugged, grinning cheekily in response.

“Beanie,” Nick reminded him softly. “And hurry or we will get stuck here.”

“Fine, dad,” his friend sassed back. “Though a crop top and beanie seem like a weird combo.”

Nick shook his head, trying to reconcile with his friend’s shift in personality. Was this something new, or was he always meant to act like this if it weren’t for his anxiety?

“Let’s go, I’m hungry too,” Bartholomew said, grabbing Nick’s hand and bounding down the hall.

Nick hoped they’d avoid causing a riot, but it was a close call. Because when two extremely hot guys enter a room, people take notice. And Nick was already at least one hot guy. He hadn’t meant to dress provocatively, but his clothing generally fit him well and showed off his taut physique. He was pretty well known on campus to begin with.

But now he had Bartholomew in tow, and instead of the shy and awkward average guy trying not to be noticed, B was a walking Bundle of sex appeal, assuming you weren’t into bears. His bright white hair poked out of an oversized beanie, his cropped top showed off enviable abs and cum gutters, his butt demanded attention in thin charcoal sweats, and if you made it that far without having found something you like, he had an impressive bulge up front to entice.

And while Nick didn’t realize it, his buddy was a walking pheromone battery. Nick had gotten used to it, but nobody else had been marinating in that scent for the past day or so, and just a whiff was enough to cause spoons to drop from a few hands, distract speakers mid word, and make a few straight boys wonder why they suddenly got impressively hard.

Bartholomew seemed oblivious to the havoc he was causing; he was practically glued to Nick’s side as they worked their way toward the buffet. He didn’t notice the eyes fixed on him, nor the nostrils flaring as he passed. He just loaded up a tray full of breakfast and claimed an empty table where Nick joined him immediately. Their trays were both heavy with proteins and carbs, and they tucked in like they’d spent a month in solitary.

Nick looked up and found his friend had a large sausage link on the end of his fork. Bartholomew met his eyes, grinned, and deep-throated the thing, before pulling it back out and biting a chunk off the end.

Nick blushed, then hissed “Really?!” under his breath. Bartholomew broke into giggles.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking of you,” he said.

“What is with you? A week ago you’d never have——”

“That was a week ago, when I was a lonely average virgin wrestling with whether I was into boys or just you.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m an average boy with abs and a big ol cock, and I’ve been into you almost as often as you’ve been into me.”

“I can’t believe you said that.”

“I guess I’m feeling the sass. And after we finish eating you can grab this sass all you—”

“Dude, just eat your brunch,” Nick said fondly.

“Okay.”

“Excuse me, guys?”

The boys looked up from their plates, almost as one, and saw a lanky goth staring at them.

“Keith?”

“Yeah, Ash said you were looking for me?”

“Oh…Hi….” Bartholomew said awkwardly. Definitely the guy he’d made out with all too briefly at the party.

“Um, hi. Nick, right? And… Bart?”

“Bartholomew,” Nick corrected.

“Wow, that’s kind of a mouthful,” Keith said, which elicited an involuntary giggle from Bartholomew, and a blush from Nick.

Way more than a mouthful, Nick thought.

“Anyway, what did you want?”

“Um… let’s talk someplace more private, all right?”

“Sure,” Keith said. “What did you have in mind?”

A few minutes later they were in the elevator headed up to the boys’ dorm room. “No offense, man, but you kinda changed your look, didn’t you?” Keith said, looking down at Bartholomew.

“You could say that,” he replied. “It’s kind of what we wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, wait, I didn’t know you guys were an item. I didn’t mean to—”

“Huh? Oh, no, we’re cool,” Nick said.

Confused, Keith followed them back to the room. The minute the door opened, however, he squinted and sniffed.

“What’s that smell? I thought I smelled it before but it’s really strong in here…”

“Have a seat, I’ll open a window.” Nick hadn’t even realized how potent the scent was in here.

“If you guys are trying to sell me some new strain of pot or something…”

“Nah. Nothing like that,” Nick replied. “We need your help because something happened the other night and you’re our only lead.”

“Remember how you asked if I’d changed my look?” Bartholomew asked.

“Yeah, you dyed your hair, right?”

“It’s a bit more than that. See, I woke up after the party and …the white hair is just part of it.”

“I’m confused. Is this like a gay thing? Because I’m more questioning and curious and well, you seemed nice. I didn’t realize you were high or whatever. If I overstepped, I’m sorry.”

The boys were being really squirrelly, exchanging wordless glances. Finally, Nick asked: “Can you think of anything you might have seen after you and B kissed?”

Keith looked confused. “I mean we kissed, and it was nice. And then you tensed up and looked like you were going to freak out….”

***

At the party

“Hey new guy, just FYI, that’s spiked,” Keith said to the brown-haired guy who had just downed his first cup of Spooky Orange Punch.

“I figured,” Bartholomew replied. “But it tastes pretty good.”

“You a Delta guy?”

“Nah, I’m just here for the party.”

“It’s pretty loud, huh?”

“Yeah. I was gonna go see if it was a little quieter upstairs.”

“It’s not, I just came from up there. Maybe out back?”

And so the two made their way, red cups in hand (full of what must have been three parts vodka to one part ginger ale and one part sherbet—aka liquid courage), made their way to the slightly less loud screened-in patio.

“I’m Keith.”

“Bartholomew.”

“So how’d you swing an invite? My cousin is a Delta, but I’m not in any frat. The guys are nice enough but it’s not my style really,” Keith laughed, gesturing at his goth fit.

“I came here with my roommate. Nick. He seems to know everyone and thinks I need to be more social.”

“Heh. Well, you can tell him you talked to me. Do I need to sign a form or something so you get the lab credit?”

“Heh, not a bad idea.”

“Nick, as in Nick Castrano?”

“Yup.”

“You’re right, I think everyone knows him. Like, carnally.”

Bartholomew sighed. “He does seem to get around.”

“Oh I’m not judging, but he kind of has a little bit of a reputation. He’s supposed to be hot.”

“That he is. But he’s nice.”

“Are you his usual wingman?”

“He doesn’t need a wingman. He’s just nice, and he’s hot, and people like him,” Bartholomew said, and took a long swig from the solo cup. “So of course, people show up to ask him out, or to thank him for a nice date, or whatever. He is usually pretty considerate about not rubbing his conquests in my face, though. No wait, that’s not fair. He would never do something so gross.”

“It must get tiresome.”

“Meh. Not like it’s a competition. I’d lose if it was.”

“I dunno, man, you’re pretty cute yourself.”

Bartholomew gave him a very perplexed look. “Why would you say that?”

“I dunno, because you are? Not everybody is into the same kind of guy, you know.”

“Oh, um, thanks?”

Annnnnd there it was, the awkwardness.

“I’m serious. I think you’re handsome. And you have a wholesome vibe. I mean, you showed up to a frat house Halloween party dressed as Luigi.”

“Yeah, Nick got the costumes on sale as a pair, but the mustache is driving me crazy.” He tore it off and stuck it in his pocket. “Ow.”

“So, um…dumb question, but didn’t I see you at the Lambda Alliance thing?”

“Oh, yeah, probably.”

“So…you’re gay?”

“Yeah.”

“When did you figure out you liked dudes?”

“Probably high school. At least that’s when I started to worry about getting caught looking. Then I wound up rooming with Nick. That kind of sealed the deal. Are you, um….”

“Bi, I think. I had a girlfriend and we did stuff. My mom asked me after senior prom whether I’d gotten laid. I told her I had, but what really happened is me and my supposed girlfriend got drunk, and I ended up fooling around with her brother. And then he blabbed about it to her, and we broke up. I was a dumb kid. Trying to be better now. “

“I’ve never really….you know, dated.”

“What, really?”

“Yup. I have pretty bad anxiety. For a long time, the idea of holding hands or hugging or kissing was just too much.”

“And now?”

“I dunno, maybe? I have better meds now, at least. But I haven’t tried anything with anyone.”

“Do you maybe want to?”

Bartholomew didn’t reply, but he did finish his drink, staring into the empty cup.

“Do you want to maybe see if you’d be okay with it?”

The boy turned to him, and it was obvious that he was in turmoil. He badly wanted to make the leap, but he was terrified. Keith smiled warmly.

“Because you’re pretty cute, and if you’re okay with it, I would like to try kissing you. You can say no, or pull away, and I won’t be mad….”

And with that, Keith leaned in and gave him a quick test kiss, barely one that counted.

“Was that okay?” Keith whispered.

“Yeah,” Bartholomew replied.

“I’m going to try again…”

“Okay.”

This time it was a real kiss, and then another, and then it was like a little switch got flipped. Bartholomew’s mouth had been starved for touch, and Keith was pleased to find that his lips were sweet and moist and even if his new friend had little experience, he seemed to have pretty good instincts. After a moment or two, Keith pulled gently away.

“That was nice, huh?”

Bartholomew nodded, and started to lean in again. This time they met in the middle, and Keith drew back so Bartholomew could come to him. He didn’t disappoint, his hand reaching up to the taller goth’s neck. They made out in earnest now, and Keith could tell he’d struck a nerve someplace. The boy was hungry.

And then, suddenly, he pulled back.

“What’s the matter?”

“Fuck I’m sorry, I didn’t, I mean…”

“Bartholomew, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know why I’m like this! It’s just me, I’m so stupid…”

“No you’re not. Hey, it’s okay.”

“I just wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I could just fucking relax and, I dunno, let myself enjoy sort of thing.”

“Me too. You’ll get there.”

“I’ve been wishing the same thing since I was about fifteen.”

“Yeah, well, you did pretty good tonight, right?”

“That’s mostly because I’ve had four of these things. Liquid courage, yay.”

“I was hoping it was because you liked me.”

“I do! I mean, I think you’re kind of handsome and you’re nice. And I liked kissing you.”

“I did too,” Keith replied.

“But I think I should probably go now.”

“You don’t have to,” Keith said. “But I get it. Want me to walk you home, or find your friend or something?”

“No thanks. I appreciate it but I think I can use the walk and the air.”

“Okay, I guess….see you around?”

“I kind of remember that now,” Bartholomew said. “You were nice!”

“What does our little moment have to do with your hair?”

“Oh, right. I was hoping you might know why I woke up with these,” Bartholomew replied, pulling the beanie off his head and revealing his bunny ears.

Nick hadn’t expected that impulsive reveal. But if he hadn’t, then certainly Keith hadn’t. If the goth had been a cartoon character, his jaw would have literally dislodged from his face and clattered to the floor.

“What the hell?”

“I woke up like this. Well, with the ears, I mean. And I kind of freaked out until Nick calmed me down. He’s awesome.”

“Those are real?” And before he knew it, Keith had reached out to touch them.

“They’re real. You can touch them.”

Keith’s hand moved on its own, and his brain caught up as his fingertip brushed the softest white fuzz imaginable. The ear twitched and Bartholomew giggled.

The goth’s mind was reeling. Here was a dude with actual fucking bunny ears.

“You can stop now,” Nick said. “They’re real. We just don’t know why.”

“Wait, that’s not the only thing is it?” Keith said. “Is that why your hair is like that?”

“Yup. I also shrunk a few inches, but my cock got way bigger, so it’s okay!”

Wait, what?

“I can vouch for that last one,” Nick said. “And he got all toned up, too.”

“I got sexy abs now!” Bartholomew sang happily, lifting his shirt to show off.

They were, indeed, pretty damned sexy abs. And below, that…that was a big bulge.

“Also, he has this scent thing. We think it’s some kind of pheromones—you mentioned it in the hallway.”

Without thinking, Keith took a sniff, and sure enough, he could detect that spicy-sweet odor. He’d smelled it faintly before in the cafeteria, and again in the elevator, and a third time when they walked into the boys’ room.

“You opened the window so I wouldn’t notice?”

“No, I opened it because it can get overwhelming. It almost smells too good. And I think it messes with your mind a bit.”

Keith could believe that, because now he was sitting four feet from the guy, he could smell it, and what he really wanted was to find the source of that scent and sniff it some more.

“Hey man, I know it’s a lot to take in, but imagine what my friend here is going through!”

Funny, Bartholomew didn’t look worried or upset.

“He doesn’t seem too bothered.”

“I’m not,” Bartholomew said. “I mean, it’s weird, and I was freaked out at first. The ears?” He flexed them and grinned. “They’re actually kind of cool. And my hearing is really good. I’ve never been in such good shape and my cock is lots of fun. And Nick is so sweet to me. So it’s kind of hard to be too upset, you know?”

“Wait, so you cured your anxiety by turning into a bunny boy?”

“Heh, bunny boy.”

“You were freaked out so badly by kissing me that you ran home. And now you’re okay with being some kind of furry? You’re not worried about people finding out?”

“I mean, if I think about it, yeah, I guess. But whatever this is, it’s kind of …liberating, I guess.”

Nick was now on his back foot—he hadn’t really been able to think too much about how Bartholomew really felt about this, between trying to figure it out and manage it, and then being distracted by all the sex. Sure, at first, B had reacted normally. He’d freaked out , understandably, but once they’d started fooling around, it was like something changed inside his friend. Nick had always been good at talking B down from his panic attacks, but in retrospect, the sudden acceptance wasn’t normal for anyone, much less someone with anxiety issues. It was like endorphins had flooded his friend’s brain.

“Oh shit,” Nick said. “No, it’s too ridiculous.”

“What?” the other two pressed.

“Just….this all happened after you guys kissed and B freaked out a bit. And then wished he was able to relax.”

“Dude. Big difference between ‘I wish I could relax’ and ‘turn me into a chill twink bunny guy’, ain’t there?” Keith said.

“Around what time did this happen?”

“Maybe midnight-ish?”

“Midnight wish on Halloween.”

“But magic isn’t real, dude.”

“Explain the ears and all the other changes, then.”

They had nothing.

“It is kind of a weird way to answer that wish, though,” Bartholomew said, thoughtfully. “Honestly I should probably have just got some CBD gummies or something.”

They all sat silently for a moment, trying to wrap their brains around it all.

“Dude, magic is real. That’s like, huge.” Keith said

“I don’t see how it helps, though. It doesn’t tell us how to stop it, or fix it. What if it gets worse, or weirder?”

“Bummer, though,” Bartholomew said. “You were pretty much my only lead.”

“Sorry. I know I look kinda witchy, but this is mostly a style thing,” Keith said.

“So we’re back to square one?”

“Maybe not,” Keith said. “I can check with some friends who claim they know stuff.”

Nick suddenly felt very protective. “I don’t know. This is kind of big if it gets out.”

“I can be discreet and keep your names out of it. Ooh, and maybe ask my cousin in the frat about anything weird.”

“I guess that would be okay.” They quickly shared contact info.

“Hey Keith? I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

“It’s cool.”

“No, it isn’t. I was a mess and I left you high and dry,” Bartholomew said. And suddenly he was sitting very close, and the scent of him was much stronger. He leaned in innocently on the chair and adjusted something in his trousers.

Nick was suddenly on alert. Was Bartholomew hitting on Keith? And was Nick himself jealous or aroused by the idea? Or was this all hormonal and pheromone related?

“Uhhh,” Keith said, one hand dropping to cover his own arousal. “Is this some kind of setup?”

“What do you mean? I just figured I kind of owe you for the other night.”

“But Nick is right there,” Keith said.

“It’s just kissing. Nick does it all the time. It’s kind of new for me.”

Nick’s hackles raised despite himself. But then, it wasn’t quite fair was it? He’d had all the fooling around he wanted from day one. Bartholomew had been so repressed. He’d never really done anything, no kissing or hugging or hanky-panky. It didn’t feel right to be hypocritical about this, but…but he also wanted the boy to himself. He sighed.

“I can leave for a bit,” Nick offered. “While you guys settle things.”

“You don’t have to go,” Bartholomew said. “And I won’t do anything you’re not okay with. Just tell me.”

Keith sat there like a deer in the headlights, caught between the two of them.

Nick finally said “I think it’s probably healthy for you to…test the waters, if you want to. I don’t have anything exclusive. Not yet at least.”

“You sure? I was just going to kiss him, because that’s what we were doing before.”

That was almost worse. And Nick suspected it wouldn’t stop there, but that should be up to his friend, not him.

“I need to clear my head anyway. I’m not mad, or anything. But I should go out for a bit and you two can figure things out.”

“Okay,” Bartholomew said, lightly hopping to his feet and reaching up to grab Nick’s face. “I love you, stupid. Take a little time, and come back soon.” Nick kissed him, very thoroughly, as if to mark him, and the bunny boy returned the kiss with passion.

And then Nick grabbed his keys and left.

Keith was frozen. What the heck was going on?

“Shit, I actually said it,” Bartholomew said softly. “It slipped out.”

“Said what?”

“I said the L word. To Nick.” He giggled nervously. “I don’t think he even noticed.”

“Hey, I don’t want to get between you two.”

“What? No, don’t worry. It’s just been a lot the past few days. Lots of changes,” Bartholomew said, settling back into the couch a little too close to Keith.

“I bet,” Keith replied. “I’m kind of worried for you.”

“I’ll manage. Somehow I’m not worried. Nick needs a little moment and I need to figure some stuff out too. Stuff that isn’t about these,” he said, and his ears twitched.

“I still can’t believe they’re real.”

Bartholomew shrugged. “I’m getting used to them. Wish I didn’t have to wear the stupid beanie out though. I feel like I should get tattoos and work in a coffee shop.”

“It’s kind of a cute look, though. And it hides the ears.”

“I guess. People might freak out. But you took it pretty well.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Keith replied. “Are you okay otherwise?”

“Yeah. I don’t mind any of this now, but a few days ago I was a sobbing wreck.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m apparently a chill twink bunny guy. My brain stopped undermining me. I mean, this kind of thing has to change your brain chemicals. I haven’t taken any of my meds in a day or two and I haven’t panicked in a while. Every day there seems to be some little thing different, but none of it’s really bad once I get used to it.” Bartholomew leaned back as he said this, his posture backing up his claim. He certainly seemed unbothered.

“It’s your business, but shouldn’t you check with your doc or something?”

“Probably, but what do I say? Hey doc, I’m apparently over the whole anxiety stuff I’ve had for years and I think it’s because I magically grew bunny ears?” Bartholomew chuckled. “I don’t think that would go well.”

“No, I guess not.”

“Anyway, what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You haven’t had anything weird happen to you, have you?”

“Aside from this? Not really.” God, that scent. It was starting to permeate the room, even with the window open. Probably because of the way Bartholomew was leaning back on the couch, exposing his white tufted pits.

“Well, this is pretty weird all by itself. Anyway, I wanted to say I really enjoyed kissing you. It was nice, and I think it helped me. But I feel bad that I left like that,” he said. “I was kind of afraid I overstepped or was, y’know, bad at kissing.”

“I was worried I’d pushed you too far,” Keith replied. “But the kissing itself was pretty good.”

“I wonder,” Bartholomew said, leaning forward again as he subtly adjusted his junk. “You were actually only the second guy I ever kissed.”

“Really? I guess Nick was your first, huh.”

“Third, actually. First was a guy at a high school party and I freaked out the minute his lips touched me. And then we never spoke again. I suppose he was wrestling with his sexuality like I was, but it still sucked.”

“And you and Nick?”

“I don’t know what I would do without him. Besides, have you seen him? He is so hot…and he is so good to me. Even before we kissed or fucked, he watched out for me.”

“Oh,” Keith replied.

“Yeah. But I still want to kiss you again, if you are cool with it.”

“I mean, if Keith—”

“Keith left so I could kiss you. You know that, right? He is giving me space to see what I’ve been missing out on.”

Keith knew that. He’d seen it happen. But he hadn’t quite accepted it yet, and he genuinely didn’t want to mess things up between these two guys.

All of which should have mattered more than it did, in fact, in practice. Because Bartholomew was suddenly right there, his face inches away, his scent intoxicating, and his big blue eyes sparkling with desire, his lips parted just a little….

The goth boy found himself nodding, and then they were kissing. A tentative peck, first, and then—almost the same as before, he realized—it was like once Bartholomew had confirmed Keith was willing, he gave himself permission to cut loose. Their lips seemed unwilling to part, and their tongues danced and played passionately. The bunny boy’s soft hands were on Keith’s neck, and he swung his legs over to straddle Keith on the couch.

Now it was Keith’s turn to feel overwhelmed. Fuck, that was a kiss! Years of pent up passion seemed to flow directly from Bartholomew right into him, lighting up his nerves and flushing his face. Keith found himself reaching to mirror his friend’s actions, his hands finding the fluffy hair and soft fur of Bartholomew’s ears, and gently stroked them.

This innocent action elicited such a wanton moan from the boy that Keith shivered. And then, he felt the movement of Bartholomew’s cock against his leg as it sought to shove its way free of the mundane constraints of his sweatpants.

His conscious reactions seemed to sputter and stall, and Keith switched to pure instinct, now that he’d been marinating in the raw essence of his friend’s scent. He welcomed the sexy wriggling as Bartholomew pressed closer; one hand remained still on the bunny ear, while the other worked its way down his back, to his pert butt cheek. Fuck, that was a firm little tush!

Bartholomew deftly rolled to the side, his face still glued to Keith’s and then pulled him so the goth was now straddling him. The change in position lit some internal fire, making Keith feel more aggressive and sexy himself. His own cock throbbed to life, a modest six inches with slightly more girth than you might expect given his lanky build.

Still they kissed, and while Keith’s member grew harder and harder, it was well overmatched. Because the bunny boy had not been exaggerating when he said his cock grew. Keith had believed him in general, but having a nearly foot long iron girder suddenly poking him was another thing altogether.

A heady scent of arousal filled the room, but Keith barely noticed. His own hormones were firmly in control now, and he was game for anything, but both excited by and daunted by the idea of doing anything beyond kissing.

And then, Bartholomew pulled his lips from Keith’s. His breathing was steady but heady, and he was smiling.

“Fuck,” he said, “now that was a kiss.”

Keith nodded.

“I think I need more than a kiss.” His voice was soft and hesitant, as if he had just realized something.

Keith nodded, his worries about Nick a faded memory.

And then Bartholomew’s hands were pulling at Keith’s clothes, so Keith helped by removing his shirt while Bartholomew unbuttoned his trousers. He was shrugging out of them before his mind registered that. Off went the shoes (soooo glad he’d worn the sneakers rather than the boots today!) and he stepped nimbly out of the pants.

“Now mine,” Bartholomew demanded. Keith nodded and pulled at the loose sweats while Bartholomew pulled off the shirt. Goddamn, he had at least a six or eight pack and firm little pecs and Keith had to know where those cum gutters ended, so he yanked the pants down.

Well that was obvious, wasn’t it? Those grooves led to the biggest dick Keith had ever seen in person. Nearly a foot of cock, above some tight but impressive balls dusted with white downy hair, sprang up at him, and a spurt of pre was already slicking the shaft. And now the scent was truly overpowering, a lightly musky, spicy sweet odor that Keith’s nose sucked in deeply.

He could almost imagine that scent rewriting him on a cellular level. But he knew it was more mundane than that. It was making his body react with need and passion, making him want Bartholomew to do unspeakable things to him.

And Bartholomew? He was all too happy to participate.

The only decision to be made was what to do first.

Keith considered himself verse. He’d bottomed slightly more often, but he’d never faced a challenge like the one in front of him now, so he leaned forward and decided a little oral might be worth attempting, just to see what he was capable of.

If he thought the scent was enticing, it was nothing compared to the taste of Bartholomew’s cock. The pre made his tongue tingle, and he licked it quickly off the side of Bartholomew’s shaft with unabashed pleasure, causing the boy to thrust toward him slowly, like he was trying to save a little time. Keith licked his lips, then leaned up to kiss some B’s lips some more, knowing they likely retained a bit of the salty tang of the dick juice he’d just tasted. Bartholomew seemed to like that, so he reached down and stroked the boy’s cock again a few times—god that was a lot of dick!—and brought up a hand sticky with pre. He placed a wet finger on Bartholomew’s lips and soon the boy was greedily slurping it off his fingers.

Fuck, that was hot.

He went in for more, but this time for himself, and once his hand was slick again, he reached back and jammed a finger in his own hole, just brushing the pucker. As his mouth opened in response, he found Bartholomew’s hand gently guiding it to his cock, and Keith happily took that direction.

For a good five minutes, this continued, and Keith found himself going deeper both on the massive cock in his mouth, and the slick fingers in his own ass. He began to feel a determination, mad though it was, to get fucked on that huge cock. He saw no other outcome, and bent his will toward that.

For a fleeting moment, he felt a twinge of guilt. But even though Nick had to know, or suspect at least, what would happen, he’d explicitly left it up to Bartholomew how to proceed.

How could you not, when faced with, well, all this? Maybe if you were into bears or something, but even then, there was something primal about whatever the boy had become. Keith had little say in the outcome, and maybe Bartholomew didn’t either.

And none of that mattered because the boy’s huge dick was making itself known and Keith hoped he was ready for it. Bartholomew’s eyes were closed and his mouth was open, with his teeth biting his own bottom lip. He looked so peaceful, and yet so wantonly sexual. And Keith finally let his control slip, and he sunk inexorably down on the biggest cock he had ever attempted.

“Oh fuck, holy fuck holy fuck that’s so big,” he whispered frantically, almost a mantra as his guts adjusted to the intrusion.

“Are you okay?” Bartholomew asked calmly. “I’m not hurting you?”

“It’s kind of a lot, but no, it’s good. It’s sooooo good,” he whined. “I just need a minute.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bartholomew said, mischievously. “I wasn’t done kissing you.”

The toned arms reached up, around Keith’s neck, and pulled him closer for a smooch—but that just drove Keith down on the steel rod currently probing his guts. It hit something and Keith shuddered and seemed to lose his ability to hold himself in position. And that, in turn, flipped a switch in the bunny eared boy, who began to slowly thrust into Keith’s ass.

“I can’t reach you,” Bartholomew said, plaintively.

“Fuck first, kiss after,” Keith said, and his partner smiled and shrugged, as if to say “Okay, if you really want me to”.

A full fifteen minutes of fervent plowing later, Keith was spraying cum like a geyser. He’d lost any sense of time or place. And for his part, Bartholomew had few conscious thoughts either, lost in the pleasure of the fuck. He felt something big building up, and finally let it go.

“Oh shit!!!!” Cried Keith, whose insides were suddenly feeling even fuller. And then, Bartholomew grabbed him and pulled him in for a lengthy kiss.

“Okay, now I feel like we got that kiss sorted out,” he said.

Finally, they collapsed in a heap on the abused couch, giggling.

Nick was pretty sure he knew how things were going. And if he hadn’t left, he’d probably have been part of it, which didn’t sound so bad. But he was also past his own limit, sexually speaking, and if Bartholomew needed more to satisfy himself, that was okay.

Or it should have been.

Nick had always seen sex as a fun thing you did with other people. And he liked the people he had sex with, but he didn’t really have serious feelings for them.

Except that didn’t seem to be true now. He was feeling protective of his roommate, as usual, but also reluctant to share him. Was he….was he actually jealous?

This was a new thing for him. He wasn’t sure he understood how he was feeling, and then it occurred to him that it might just be a chemical and hormonal thing.

For the first time in a while he wasn’t hopped up on bunny boy pheromones. No longer directly stimulated by his presence. And yet… he felt connected to Bartholomew in a way he couldn’t explain. He wished he could somehow divorce the emotions he was wrestling with from the powerful lure of his roommate’s adorable body and his intense pheromones.

He suddenly remembered reading that humans probably didn’t produce or pick up on pheromones the same way animals did, but that really didn’t help, because Bartholomew wasn’t exactly human anymore. Or was he? Shit, was he? He barely seemed real now that Nick was out in the green space near the dorm. An insane fantasy where his uptight but cute roommate was suddenly some kind of fey sex twink…

But despite the surrealism of it all, he knew that it was true. His drained balls and sore ass were plenty of proof of what had been going on in their suite.

What was likely still going on. Just without him. And just after Bartholomew had slipped up and said the L word.

Oh shit, he’d said it.

The convenience store could wait.

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