Potential

The flash of the camera left Chris blinking. He hoped his smile didn't look too forced. Jake was smashed, sloppy in fact, and he was using Chris as a crutch for his impaired balance. He was ready to leave, but he had no doubt that Jake would have him here to last call for the third time this week. He used to like this gay bar, it catered to every part of the community and people were friendly enough, but Jake's jealousy and his insistence that Chris be a DD every time made coming more a chore than a pleasure. Even though they lived two blocks away, Jake demanded that Chris drive. When the bar finally closed, Chris payed the bartender for Jake's tab and helped a very drunk Jake to the door and out into the cold. As they reached the car, Chris noticed something was wrong. The car was listing to one side, one of the tires had gone flat.

"Hey Jake, we're gonna have to walk home tonight, I'll come back tomorrow and fix it."

"What're you talkin bout," Jake slurred. "Whud you do t'th car."

"The tire's flat, we'll just walk home and I'll come back when the sun's up."

"Fuck na, fix it now n I'll ben th'car."

"Jake I don't think..." The slap cut him short. Jake grabbed the keys and fumbled to get the door open, slamming it shut behind him. A second later the engine was running and music was blaring out of the stereo. Chris stood still for a moment, holding back tears and keeping his breathing from becoming sobs. It hadn't been the first time he'd been struck, but it hadn't happened so often that he expected it when it came. Jake popped the trunk, and Chris went about getting the spare tire. Footsteps behind him had Chris turning to see a man he recognized as the owner of the bar. He was a huge bear of a man, built like a freight train. Despite the cold he was wearing jeans and a sleeveless flannel shirt open enough to show a mass of hair on his well built pecs. He had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, a neatly groomed goatee, and bright green eyes that shone with concern. Despite himself, Chris felt an immediate attraction to him.

"You alright, kid," he asked in a resonant bass voice.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine, thanks," Chris replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"Not sure I buy it," the bar owner said, walking up to the trunk and grabbing the tire iron with no prompting and going to work, "I remember seeing you in my place before that shit of a boyfriend," noticing Chris's nervous glance toward where Jake was sitting, he added, "don't worry kid, the way he was going he probably blacked out the second ass hit cushion. See, I like my bar to be a wide open place. Have twinks laughing it up with chubs, queens and leather bears buying each other rounds. You, always starting up conversations with some lonely guy in the corner, you broke down a lot of barriers and really made the place better," he said, struggling with a particularly nasty lug nut. "Don't know if you noticed, but there are a lot more cliques and a lot fewer smiles in the bar the past few months."

"I appreciate it, sir" Chris said, putting the jack in place, "but I think you might be giving me too much credit." He watched the owner struggling with the last nut, the veins in his large biceps pulsing as he pulled against the tire iron.

"I bet you do, your little blond asshole's taken a boot to your confidence. Just pisses me off that he's sucking the life outta you. You got a hell of a lot of potential kid." Chris was quiet as they continued to work. When the last of the lug nuts were snug and the jack was dropped, the bar owner stood and looked Chris in the eye. "Look, there's not a whole lot I can say to change your mind for you, just trying to give you a nudge toward coming to your senses is all, well, maybe more than a nudge," he said with a sly smile Chris didn't quite understand. "Name's Benjamin, Ben if you like" he said, extending his hand.

"Chris," he replied. As he put his hand in Ben's strong grip, something like static but much stronger ran up his arm.

"Well Chris, be seeing you, when you come to your senses, give me a holler, I'd love to see the man you'll become, see ya soon." he said, striding back toward the bar.

Standing there watching as Ben walked away, more specifically Ben's ass walking away, Chris sighed to himself. They were nice words, but who would even be interested in him besides Jake. It wasn't like there was any possibility Ben would be interested in him. Better to just put the conversation out of his mind. Getting in the car, he found Jake snoring loudly, bent over a pool of vomit. Jake certainly wasn't helping his own cause much.

When he got them both home and in bed, Jake woke just long enough to demand sex that was quick for him and unsatisfying for Chris. Jake snoring once again, Chris went about finishing himself off, the hand stroking his cut 6 inch cock motivated by the thought of Ben naked. He imagined his muscles and hair moving against his body, their lips intertwined, being taken by the larger man and, unusually for him, doing the taking. His orgasm was explosive, and he cursed as he ran to the bathroom to get a rag to wipe up the mess. Fatigue winning at last, Chris fell asleep.

Chris woke fairly early and fairly sore the next morning. It was a Saturday, meaning he had time to get the tire fixed and Jake would be asleep for another six hours at the least. Chris trudged to the bathroom, eyes barely open, and turned on the shower tap. He stood under the hot spray of water for a few minutes, feeling tension melt away. Grabbing the soap and a washcloth he began to lather himself up, only to stop as the cloth ran over his torso. Something felt off. Wiping the suds from his eyes, he looked down and saw something that didn't make sense. His chest hair had grown back abnormally fast. Jake demanded he keep himself shaved, and Chris had last done so the night before. Yet, there on his chest was a week's worth of hair. Chris ran his hand over his chest down to his abs where it lingered. Flexing his stomach, he was shocked to see the outline of his abs. Spurned to investigate more thoroughly, he found that his chest, his arms, legs, shoulders, even his neck was bigger, the muscles more defined. He flexed and stretched his body every way he knew how, enjoying the strength, the power he felt. Finally, the water grew cold and he hopped out and began to towel off.Stepping to the mirror he found his stubble had matched his chest and he sported a week's worth of beard. He began shaving, toying with the notion of keeping a goatee, but decided against it. He'd have to explain it to Jake. Strangely, the idea of answering to Jake didn't fill him with fear like it normally would, rather, it filled him with irritation at the inconvenience. Finishing up at the sink, he turned to use the toilet. A jolt of excitement struck him as he grabbed his dick. Looking down he couldn't tell if it was any longer, but it was definitely thicker. He had no idea what was going on, how or why these things were happening, but he liked it, hell he loved it. He decided, though, that he would wait until later that day to do any in-depth exploration, after he'd gotten his errands done.

It took Chris almost two hours to clean up the dry vomit in his car and get rid of the smell. It was late morning by the time he got to the mechanic's but an hour after he arrived there, his tire was patched and he was pulling out of the auto shop. The mechanic on duty was a good looking guy with black hair, a thick beard and a strong, if slightly pudgy build. Chris had surprised himself by striking up a conversation with him, even flirting a bit. When the mechanic finished up, he'd given Chris a big smile, a business card, and a wink. Grinning to himself as he drove down the street, Chris spotted an Indian restaurant he'd been wanting to try and realized he was starving. Jake refused to eat anything spicier than marinara, but, Chris thought, fuck Jake.

He took a seat at a table opposite a couple in their teens, the only other customers. His waitress was a beautiful young Indian woman in a sari and a mesmerizing accent. He managed to get a laugh out over her over his pronunciation of the dishes. Once she had gone, he struck up a conversation with the kids at the next table. When the waitress returned with his order, Josh and Tracy had moved to his table and they were swapping high school war stories. As the meal continued, he managed to convince Chahna, the waitress, to join him as long as business was slow. Even the cook, Chahna's brother Mohammad emerged from the kitchen to chat. Before too long, though, Josh and Tracy had to leave, but not before Tracy had the name of an Indian clothing store and Mohammad and Josh had swapped numbers and made plans to go rock climbing, a mutual passion. Chris was surprised by his own appetite, by the time he ordered his third plate of food, he was starting to get self-conscious, but Chahna was more than willing to keep his plate full, and Mohammad took his ceaseless hunger to be a compliment to his legitimately delicious food.

Finally sated, Chris, paid his bill, thanked Chahna and Mohammad and left to return home. As he drove, he began to feel strange. Different areas of his body would tingle, then flex, then relax. The experience was unusual, but not unpleasant. He had more errands to run, but he was near home and decided to put them off until he knew what was going on. With a bit of guilty excitement, he thought back to his discovery that morning and hoped this might be related. When he arrived home, the feeling had intensified, and he was itching all over. Deciding not to risk the annoyance of Jake's bitching if he were prematurely woken, Chris walked into the back yard. Hoping the source of the itching might be what he thought it was, he lifted his shirt.

What he saw was incredible. His torso was ripped and it was topped off by a thick coat of dark hair. He moved his upper body from side to side, watching the muscles shift, still needing to confirm what he was seeing. He flexed his pecs, running his hands over the thick, hard muscle, the silky hair. Just like in the morning, the changes were all over his body. His arms were thick and vascular, veins running up his defined biceps. Looking down at his shadow, he could appreciate how much winder his shoulders were, and the contrast they made with his slim waist. His cock hardened in his pants and, with a stupid grin, he had the sensation that it was making a bigger bulge than before. He'd have to go inside before he investigated any further, he'd hate for Mrs. Kim to come outside at the wrong moment. Lowering his shirt, he unlocked the door as quietly as he could, only to find Jake cock-deep in some twink he didn't recognize.

The anger washed over him like a tsunami. Without saying a word, he grabbed them each by the arm and roughly threw them out the front door. Picking up the clothes they'd left strewn on the floor, he threw them at the two shocked men, told Jake to "pick up your shit in the morning" and slammed the door. Chris was seething. In a rage, he went from room to room, purging it of any of Jake's property. When he'd finished, he began to see what his relationship was. A modest pile of clothes and some toiletries was all that Jake had to his name. Everything else in the house was Chris's, and it was Chris's name on the lease and Chris's car in the driveway. Jake had just moved in and latched on to Chris's life. He was a parasite. He thought back to what Ben had said the night before and realized how right he had been.

As he calmed down, he realized his hunger had returned. Finally seeing clearly, he made the connection between his hunger and the man he was becoming. He had no idea how, but Ben had brought this on, and by god, Chris was going to make the most of it. He went to the fridge and after exorcising it of the junkfood and soda Jake demanded, set about eating everything he could. It took him a couple hours, but at long last he had consumed every bit of food in his kitchen. Jake liked twinks, so Chris had dieted and shaved. Jake wanted to be the bigger of the two, So Chris had stopped lifting at the gym. Friendships lost to jealousy, time wasted worrying, all the petty shit he had put up with for almost a year. It was all over. Feeling the tingling beginning again, Chris grabbed his keys and pulled out of the driveway, his destination clear.

It was nearly sunset when he got to the bar. The lights were off, but the door was unlocked. The bar was dark, ready for the night, , but a light was on in the back office. The light tingling Chris had been feeling earlier had become full-blown spasm and he had to steady himself against the wall. When he got to the door, he saw Ben, shirtless with his hair down working on some paperwork on his desk.

Before Chris could announce his presence, Ben set down his pen and said "glad you made it, I was hoping you'd find your way back here before we open, gives us a bit more privacy." Ben stood up and turned toward Chris, his eyes widened. "Christ, you're not done yet are you?" Chris opened his mouth to reply, but a powerful spasm hit him, sending him to the floor. He was starting to strain against his clothing and Ben was quick to get his pants off and reached toward his shirt. As he pulled up, though, the growth in Chris's arms and neck pulled the fabric tight. What Chris couldn't see, but Ben could, was a massive and growing torso covered in a pelt of thick hair. Chris's pecs had become slabs of meat with pert nipples pointed straight out. His growing lats and broadening shoulders were forcing his arms apart, adding to the constriction of his shirt and contrasting against the taper of his waist where rounded abs that could have been etched in marble lay. Finally having to tear the shirt off of Chris, Ben got his first look at Chris's face. His jaw seemed to have squared, at least as far as he could tell given the full beard that Chris now sported. His eyebrows had become heavier, but it seemed only to give his deep brown eyes a look of intensity and determination they didn't have before. As those eyes took Ben in, he felt a wave of passion he'd never experienced before and the two moved simultaneously, their mouths meeting in a hot, wet dance.

When their kiss finally broke, Ben smiled, "damn, you turned out good, most don't catch on and just put on a little muscle and some fur, you must've caught on and gone full bore to get here."

Chris's mind was whirling with questions, "you mean there's others? What happened to me?"

"It's a gift of mine, helps to bring out the best in someone, and yeah there have been others, but like I said, you caught my eye," he said, punctuating the sentence with his tongue in Chris's throat. Ben's hands roamed over the peaks and valleys of Chris's new body, squeezing his arms, tweaking his nipples, slapping his ass, but always just missing Chris's crotch. When the pressure of the big reveal was almost too much to bear, and Chris's too-small briefs had nearly reached the breaking point, Ben abruptly put his hand on either side of Chris's waist. "I think you'll like this part, tends to be a crowd pleaser," and with no further warning tore the underwear in two. Springing up between his legs was a thick, throbbing erection filled almost to bursting with Chris's arousal. Veins pulsed down its length and, as Ben slid his hand up and down the heavy shaft, Chris experienced the unfamiliar sensation of a regrown foreskin running up and down over the purple head. Chris was speechless, but soon so was Ben as he began working the tool with his mouth.

The sex lasted the rest of the night, Ben had the foresight to arrange for someone to take over at the bar. By the time the two emerged from the office the next morning, exhausted from the sex, they'd arranged some of the logistics for Chris's new life. He'd have to quit his job, given that no one he knew would recognize him anymore, but Ben had all but insisted that he come work at the bar. It was a pay cut, sure, but by the end of the first night, Chris was in love with the work and Ben hinted at other opportunities should he need a bit more spending money. Chris is still there, massive as ever, but the most approachable guy you're likely to meet.