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MMMMPH yes, so much GROWTH in this chapter. Wes’s scene was of course extremely hot (he’s getting SO damn big, fuck) and the revelation about Marcus was explosive and fun! Glad to see him size up again and experience some fast growth. Excellent work as usual!

Also: I love how damn thick everyone is getting: insane dense heavyweight muscle, Wes’s bulky belly, Marcus’s thicker, heavier frame than last time, etc. Keep that going! 

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a whim: will there be 3rd meteor? Just for Dory. since he already missed two and still finding the news about them, or what if the two meteors are actually come for Dory, but both failed lol. 😏

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Hurray!!!marcus growth again!!!

rain makes marcus growth?or water?

froy can control wes and marcus?then froy would be giant!

what is the effect of avery?

dory at 5"10" is ok,i don't want him growth anymore.

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Hey, everyone. I've been swamped with several things happening simultaneously, so I haven't been able to write the next canon part, especially since I'm not content with the way every draft is coming out. That said, here's the scrapped, unofficial Part 13. Again, nothing that happens in this part actually happens in the story. I also apologize if it's not the best. 

----------

NOT Part 13

It was Wednesday, and I’d promised Jeremy I would accompany him to his coffee date with Lisa after work. Being a professional third wheel had its privileges.

In all my years working at H&B, Blue Moon Coffee was the last place I was expecting to find myself. It was a hole-in-the-wall joint down the street, hidden up a flight of stairs adjacent to a Chinese restaurant on the bottom floor. I’d only ever heard stories from coworkers about what went on inside. For the most part, it was as unassuming as the name: black coffee blends served in a dimly-lit cafe, a bar where alcohol was present, and smooth jazz playing over the speakers. 

But I knew better. I’d heard of its secrets. It was a venue where black market transactions often took place; drugs, weapons, illegal tech—anything you can think of, and it was there. The barista employed a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. If you asked, well, you couldn’t exactly tell anyone anything with your tongue missing. 

But that’s unimportant. 

What’s important is that Jeremy decided to take us there. I didn’t even need to ask why that specific venue before Jeremy felt obliged to defend himself.

It was a short walk from the office, so we headed over together, still in our white-collar outfits. “I’ve got friends who work there now,” he said. “They said they’d give me a discount if I ever stopped by since I did a lot of their dirty work before they got released.” He’d probably seen me shifting all day. “Don’t worry,” he added. “They’re not going to risk going back to that shithole again. Not when I’m around. You’ll be fine.”

When we got there, Lisa was waiting in her car, taking a nap under a streetlight. Smart girl. Jeremy stopped us before we got too close; he asked me to help him tidy up. He wanted to look spiffy for his date. Being outshined by me was out of the question, he said; though I doubted then that I would’ve ever matched up to him in any universe. Not when he had Adamson blood flowing through his veins.

He knocked on her window and waved her awake. With a loud groan audible, even through the glass, she powered down the engine and stepped out, the scarlet hem of her dress flowing out of the seat. Despite only being 5’2”, she held the posture of a model. The stilettos did her a number of favors as well. They made her look taller than she was. She looked exquisite, expensive, like she smelled of honeyed roses and marble mansions. Standing outside Blue Moon Coffee, she stuck out like a meteor in the sky. And I couldn’t take my eyes off her arm-length gloves, with a black purse hanging on her forearm, that covered the entirety of her hands. 

“Sorry if we kept you waiting, beautiful.” Jeremy lifted her hand for a kiss. “I hope the nap was good?”

“Ah.” She pulled away instantly. “Sorry. Let’s not have any physical contact tonight. Alright?” she asked. 

His eyes darted momentarily before settling back onto her powdered face and smiled. “Yeah, yeah. No worries.”

She nodded in gratitude. “Ugh.” Without any provocation, she jumped on her tiptoes and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. “That’s all you’re getting tonight. I’d do more, but…”

The kiss left a red-hot mark on his cheek that fizzled out within seconds. I’d hoped it didn’t do anything—but the way his fingers jittered and pants shuffled, I knew that one kiss did more than either of us could’ve anticipated. Jeremy smiled bashfully, careful to avoid rubbing his coarse fingers over his cheek. “You would’ve done more?” he asked.

Lisa snorted and punched him in the chest with her gloved hand. “Oh, shut up. Come on. Let’s get inside. You can lead the way, ‘big’ brother.”

“As you wish, your Majesty.”

She pulled me aside as we were entering and Jeremy rushed in headfirst to greet his old inmates. “Do you think the gloves are too much?” she asked in a whisper. “I wanted to look good for the date, but… I should’ve looked up what the place looked like first. Sheesh. I don’t want any of the men inside getting any ideas about who they’re fucking tonight.”

I took off my black coat and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on. Jeremy can’t touch you, and no one’s going to know what’s under all this fluff.”

She smiled and kissed her fingers, then pressed them against my cheek as she took my coat and slipped into it. A faux kiss. “Thanks. Froy’s lucky to have you.” The jacket almost looked too heavy on her. Thankfully, she was used to her own fair share of extra baggage. 

When we headed inside, it was a pleasant surprise: a waiter standing at the door attended to us and escorted us across the main area to a private room near the back. The venue was packed with people, and there wasn’t an empty seat in sight. Instead of replaying jazz on the speakers, they had a jazz duet performing on stage. The patrons didn’t look the type to be partaking in shady deals either, so I figured they were just there for the good coffee. And, damn, if it wasn’t some good coffee. 

The table was already set for us with a flower vase in the center, with three fresh roses, and three seats, all served with a still-steaming cup of aroma-thick café au lait. We were only separated from the main area by a sliding shutter, but the barista explained that it was essentially soundproof from the outside. 

“This is… a lot fancier than I expected, seeing it from the outside,” Lisa said. She was jittery in her seat, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. 

Jeremy took a sip of his coffee. There was an irremovable grin on his face that was filled with satisfaction. “Appearances aren’t always everything, right?” 

Lisa swirled her spoon around in her cup. “How’d you even find a place like this?”

“I know a guy. Multiple, actually. I’d introduce you, but… they’re with a client right now. Some bigwig. Apparently, he’s here for some big business. But that’s all work talk. What about you, how’d your day go?” Jeremy placed both forearms on the table, inching one closer to her hand. 

Lisa pulled her arms closer to her chest without an ounce of subtlety or hesitation. “My day was fine. Made good money today.” She chuckled, as she eyed her coffee that sparkled as if infused with diamonds. “And if this isn’t on the house, I might just end up spending it all here.”

Jeremy leaned forward, ignoring my existence. “And what do you do, anyway? You told me back at my place that you made short films. But I don’t know how you make ‘good money’ working on indie shorts. Pardon my ignorance.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder nonchalantly, as if purely for show. “Am I not just the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen? You know there’s only one real way for people like me to make money these days.”

His eyes lit up and his eyebrows leapt. “You do home porn?” he asked. I sensed no hostility in the way he spoke, no judgment, only raw curiosity.

Lisa groaned. “Ask for the mic and tell the whole cafe, why don’t you? Yeah. I take nude videos and pictures. It’s something my ex and I used to do together before we broke up.” Then she smirked, looking out the window facing the brick wall of an alley. “Turns out I didn’t need him…”—and it faded—“I never did.”

The three of us finished our coffees before Jeremy spoke up again. “Oh, and don’t worry about the tab. It’s all on the house for tonight.”

With a silent mischief tacked onto her face, Lisa pulled out the menu from behind her and started glossing through it like a woman on a mission. She ended up ordering another café au lait, an Irish coffee, a tall glass of Rosé, and two straight black cups. Thankfully, she didn’t bankrupt the cafe—not that she could’ve, anyway; at least, not before her heart burst from the caffeine overdose.

Jeremy didn’t mind her strange addiction to coffee. To him, it was probably just a quirk of hers. He hadn’t seen the way she could down cocktails like oxygen or chug wine straight from the bottle. It was what she had in common with Marcus apart from their similarly chiseled faces and wavy blonde hair: they were prone to addictions. They were susceptible to dependence.

The date went smoothly for another two hours or so. Jeremy and Lisa talked about mundane things, keeping the conversation shallow. Although his prison sentence did get brought up at some point. Then again, it’s not like she cared. I’d told her enough about him and him enough about her to get them acquainted beforehand. She even joked while drinking one of her many, many cups of coffee that if things went well, the two of us might’ve ended up as siblings-in-law. It was a weight off my shoulders to see her so rejuvenated around Jeremy; she could actually hold eye contact with him and at times even tried holding his hand, only to remember they couldn’t touch. And she’d told me as much while he had gone to the toilet that she realized: they couldn’t touch—whether it was on the couch, in the car, at the movies, or even in bed. It didn’t matter. As long as she was with him, she couldn’t take off her gloves. Or anything at all.

At around nine in the evening, Lisa stopped ordering for herself. Instead, Jeremy opted to fetch her a cocktail from the bar. I stood to follow him, just to make sure he didn’t try anything malicious, but Lisa pulled me back down. She wanted to talk about something in private. 

“You’d better not try to steal my date from me,” he joked as he closed the shutter wall. 

“Your brother fucks me in the ass, Jer.”

When we were sure he was gone, we pulled ourselves closer within whispering range, our ears to the other’s mouth. “What is it?” I asked.

Lisa groaned. “Do you think he’s a nice guy?” 

“Who, Jeremy?” 

She pressed her lips. “I want to know what you think about him. He’s your coworker, and you’re one of the only men I talk to nowadays.”

The question caught me off-guard. “Well, uh, he’s not a bad guy. He helped me out with my workload even if he had no business doing them. He even lent me one of his books after I told him about the meteors. Plus he’s good-looking. And smart. He looks like a bookworm-turned-model with the computer skills of a sociopath.”

She was hooked onto every word that left my mouth. There was even a glimmer of unhinged desire swimming in the pools of her eyes. “What about your boyfriend? Has he said anything about him?”

He did. “Nah.” Froy told me not to trust him. But I had no reason to doubt Jeremy’s intentions, so I tacked it onto a sticky note and left it on the dark side of my brain. “Froy’s just been… adjusting to seeing his older brother around again. You know how they are. Boys.”

Lisa sighed, staring at Jeremy ordering something at the bar. “Yeah. Boys.” Then she turned back to me. “So… I wanted to do something. But I wanted your advice first since you’re an expert on this kind of thing. Since he’s been so nice to me and all.”

Needless to say, I was worried. “What’s this ‘something’ supposed to be?”

“I, uh, kind of want to pump him up a little bit.” She started fiddling with the glove on her right hand. “I know I dumped Marcus for being too big, but… a fetish is still a fetish, you know? He’s tall, and smart, and handsome, yeah, but— a little beef wouldn’t hurt, right? What do you think?”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. What was I supposed to think? He was an impressive specimen of a man. Taller than most, fit enough to run a marathon, and had a more aged set of features compared to Froy’s. A guy like him didn’t need any more muscle to stand out in a crowd; his clothes already wrapped around his body with such modelesque ease that he could’ve been on any photoshoot spread had his record not been tainted with a sentence. Yet picturing him a little beefier, a little thicker, heavier… it made me quiver. I thought of the men we’d been growing. Marcus, Wes, and Froy. Normal people were never meant to grow to such heights and weights in days. But three people were the exception. I stirred in my seat as I figured: a fourth wouldn’t be so bad.

“How much did you have in mind?” I asked.

Lisa’s face opened up in glee, illuminating our dark corner of the cafe with her fervor. “Oh, not a lot, I promise. Trust me, I don’t want him realizing what I can do any more than you do.” She took a sip of my coffee. “Besides, I’ve been eyeing his junk for a while now. Doesn’t seem like a little booster there would be too obvious. It’s not like he’ll end up plowing me into the ground with a cock the size of Florida if I gave him a few extra inches.”

As Jeremy returned to our table, I passed a subtle nod to Lisa. Her supple lips rippled with contained excitement. 

Placing the cocktail within Lisa’s reach, Jeremy sat down with a confused look on his face, no doubt wondering what it was making his date for the night so inexplicably ecstatic. He swept his black hair back and gazed over to me, trying to make out an answer from my expression. It didn’t take him long to give up. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Did I miss a punchline?” 

Lisa shook her head and took a hefty sip of her mojito. “It’s just an inside joke. Nothing to worry your perfect, little brain about.”

Jeremy blushed and edged closer, a white grin emitting his impossible charm. “I’m so honored to hear you say that about me,” he said, maintaining strict eye contact with her.

“What, ‘little’?” Lisa asked, playfully raising her nose.

“Ha! I’m going to make you eat those words.” He raised an eyebrow in response and smirked coyly. “I guarantee you, miss, nothing about me is ‘little’.”

As Lisa stripped off her gloves and shed my borrowed coat, exposing both her bare hands on the table for him to grasp, I knew—whether he was teasing or telling the truth—that no truer words would’ve been said. He didn’t hesitate to reach out and cup both her hands in his. 

“What happened to no physical contact tonight?” he asked, smiling absently.

Lisa winked back. “I can make an exception to the rule. Just this once.”

The coarse sound of his calloused fingertips running over her silk-like skin was audible even from my end of the table. There was a subtle twitch in his left eye, and I knew something was happening. Though it was invisible in the meantime. I remembered it took Lisa and I around ten hours just to get me back to a normal size. And that was full-body coverage in her bed. Jeremy and Lisa were only holding hands, and the date wouldn’t last for that long anyway. 

Over time, the gap between their seats shrank as they both shifted closer to one another. The conversations became unignorably loud. I could see through the cracks in the shutter that the other patrons were looking in our direction, moreso when Lisa or Jeremy (sometimes both at the same time) laughed just a little too hard. Their pristine appearances unravelled within an hour. The two people sitting in their seats were different from the calm, cool, and collected Lisa and Jeremy I knew. Their styled hair had frayed from all the action. Even when the jazz duet had called it quits for the night, their talks of political humor, mindless celebrity rumors, and Marcus-related gossip kept the Blue Moon Cafe alive. 

The speakers had come to life with the same overplayed Jazz playlist they kept on loop. 

It was an hour or so later—roughly 10pm at night—when I first noticed Lisa’s power taking effect in Jeremy’s body. The shirt he was wearing was starting to chafe around his armpits and pull around his chest. To anyone else, it was negligible. But to someone like me, who spent most of my days ogling the Adamson brothers, I could picture exactly what was happening under that fabric. He was growing wider. There was some struggle moving his arms around as well; I could see the swelling biceps and triceps poke out from under the sheer polyester. Whether he was growing taller, I couldn’t say. We were all still seated, and I couldn’t see any higher than the emerging shade from the underside of his pecs.

“God, I must’ve gained some weight,” Jeremy said, rolling his left shoulder back in a vain attempt to loosen the sleeve. “It’s like I can’t move in this damn thing.” 

“In a few days? I doubt it,” Lisa said. “But either way, the extra pounds suit you.”

He raised an eyebrow and, for an instant, bit his lower lip. “You think so? I doubt I could ever match up to the tyke, but I guess all those workouts in prison are finally catching up to me.”

“Then maybe we should throw you back in there,” Lisa said. 

Jeremy’s eyes went wide; he couldn’t help but scoff and grin at the remark. “Wow, you really don’t pull your punches. Is a regular gym membership too vanilla for you? What would you want me to do?”

Without hesitation, Lisa lunged forward, gripped him by the jaw, and eyed him seductively. “Question is: what is it you want to do to me?” She planted his lips against his, and he to hers. I blinked for a second, and her hands were all over his torso, digging under his shirt, rubbing him in places I figured were her favorite spots on a man—which, needless to say, was all over.

None of us stopped it. Lisa and I both know what she was doing. She was fast-forwarding the transformation. The woman wanted him in bed, and she wanted him big. Her mind was lost in impulsive ecstasy, and neither of us knew what the consequences would be. But we didn’t care. In a way, I also wanted to see just how big he could get. I wanted to know how Lisa’s growth worked, how fast it happened, what it needed to work. When I heard the first telltale signs of tearing under his right armpit, I knew everything I needed to. 

Men grew a hell of a lot faster when drunk and horny. It was a common factor when I thought about it: Froy’s and Marcus’ biggest spurts were when they were under the influence. It just made sense.

The make-out session lasted for upward of a minute before it finally ended. Jeremy was constantly shuffling in his seat, trying valiantly to adjust something in his lower region without looking too obvious. And he was failing—miserably. Lisa didn’t seem to care. She enjoyed seeing him flustered around her; she was enjoying the attention, the lust, the power her beauty held, and the power she could bestow.

Alas, just as Lisa finished the last of her cocktail and reached a hand over to fondle Jeremy some more, the door to the cafe swung wide open. The hinges were rusted over years of use, so they slowed down before slamming into the wall. Not this time. Whoever came in was considerably stronger than the average jazz man. That, or they were plain intoxicated.

“I didn’t know this place was a hub for drunks too,” Lisa mumbled.

Jeremy glared at the slip in the shutters. “It isn’t.”

Curious, I moved to see who it was that got Jeremy’s balls in a handlock. I recognized that wavy blonde hair anywhere. 

Jeremy turned to me, his face cracking with maddening fury. “What is Marcus doing here?” he grunted at me. “Did you invite him?”

I shook my head. Both of us returned to staring at him. Lisa joined in as well, peeking through her own gap in the shutter. She gasped and found herself speechless.

“Then what the hell is he doing here?” Jeremy asked.

We all watched as Marcus, fresh from his own growth last Monday, passed something over to the barista. A paper slip. It was subtle—no one would have noticed his sleight of hand had they not been noting down his every move. Thankfully, we were. Our eyes trailed him as he followed one of the baristas to the kitchen. There, Jeremy had told me earlier, was where the black market deals were made. Then I understood why he’d come. It was only something he said in passing last Monday: “I’ve even been taking these new hormone shots on the black market.”

Jeremy ground his teeth, maintaining his red-hot stare at the kitchen door, despite Marcus being well out of sight. “He’s going to ruin everything.” His fist was already bunching up on the table, balling into a white fist. 

I mustered up the courage to placate him with a hand on his rigidly tense shoulder. “Relax. He doesn’t know we’re here. He’ll probably just get what he came for and leave,” I said.

“Don’t… hurt him, Jeremy.” Lisa did her best to hide her concern, but her quivering lips and sharp eyes were louder than she could’ve ever been. “Marcus is harmless.”

“You should probably go hide in the ladies’ room for now, Lisa. In case something ends up happening. I don’t want you to see it,” I said. 

She didn’t argue, because I knew she agreed with me, though with heavy reluctance. “Alright. You have my number. Just call me when the coast is clear.”

Jeremy didn’t even notice her leave; that, or he didn’t care whether she was around. He was laser-focused on the door Marcus had gone through, like a guard dog ready to pounce on the first blonde man who walked out. I heard something crash deep in the kitchen after five minutes. The last few patrons enjoying their late-night coffees were rattled and left after leaving their paid tabs on the bar. They didn’t want to stick around for something their only role in was collateral damage.

Marcus eventually emerged. Empty-handed. His hair had been ruffled, and, even from our table, I could hear his angered grunting as he stormed out. The barista he’d gone in with didn’t follow. 

When he left through the front door, Jeremy turned to me and scowled. “Do you think he’s coming back?” 

“No. He doesn’t double-dip into trouble he’s part of.” 

And, for the most part, I was right. Since that night at the gym with Fonz, Marcus had abandoned it for a different venue at the opposite end of the district. He’d stopped trying to feed Wes any more of his home-made experiments. Worst of all, he’d stopped coming over to greet me if he saw either of the Adamson brothers anywhere nearby—which was all the time.

But this time was an exception to the rule. Because only a minute after Marcus left the cafe, my phone on the table started ringing. I couldn’t breathe seeing the caller’s name. It was Marcus. Jeremy and I panicked. Picking it up was risky, and leaving it to ring was even worse if he were still standing outside. And if I dropped the call? Was I really okay with getting on the bad side of someone like Marcus? 

Jeremy was pulling out hairs. “Fuck!” he yelled in a whisper.

I didn’t know what to do; so I did the only right thing to do, and I picked up the phone. “Hey, Marcus, uh, what’s with the late-night call?” It was silent on his end for a moment, letting me hear the sound of him growling. My phone wasn’t high-tech or anything, so anyone close by could hear what the other end was saying without much difficulty. 

He was trying so hard not to sound furious. “Hey, Dory, I— uh, do you think I could… sleep over tonight?” he asked.

“What? Why?”

“Because… you know how I told you I was taking some hormone shots from some guys? I just cut the deal a few minutes ago, and it got a bit messy, so I was looking for a place to cool off. I thought since you’re like my best friend now and you’ve got a place nearby that I could stay for the night.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Why can’t he just go home,” he whispered. 

Marcus replied before I could block Jeremy’s mouth with my hand. “Who said that?” he asked. “Is someone listening? Dory?”

Both of us bit our tongues and stared wide-eyed. “It’s just Jeremy,” I said. 

We waited for a reply from the other end, but instead got the sound of storming feet. Picking up speed. Jeremy gulped, wondering if Marcus had somehow discovered where we were. What was going to happen if he did? The world around me began to swirl and fade into a bleached white. It was an all-consuming fear that enveloped me, and all my ears could do was listen for any sound coming from the cafe’s front door. Then I heard it: the same forceful footsteps coming from my phone. And I looked up, and I realized… the speakers. There was no other jazz bar in town with the same terrible playlist. Marcus had heard it in our moments of silence through my phone.

“Fuck.”

The next moment, Marcus reappeared in the door. Jeremy and I were frozen stiff behind our shutter, hoping he didn’t know where to look. Sadly, there was really only one place left to look since every other customer had already evacuated before things got hairy. He cut the call and made a beeline to our table. 

I looked over at Jeremy, and he looked at me, and we both watched in stupefied horror as the shutter wall was pulled aside in one swift motion. Standing menacingly, with flaming anger in his eyes, was Marcus. We all looked at one another, wondering what it was we were meant to say in a situation like this. I was hoping that whatever happened in the kitchen wouldn’t carry over out here. Making a scene was the last thing any of us wanted to do, especially not when we had no one to back us up. It was okay in the office, and it was okay at the resort. It was not okay at a public cafe owned by ex-inmates.

“What are you doing here?” Marcus asked me, the faintest twitch at the tip of his lips. 

“I was just enjoying a coffee with Jeremy. Is there something wrong?”

He nodded. “Yeah. What’re you doing having a coffee with him?” Then he looked past us, past Jeremy and I, and settled on Lisa’s seat. Her seat. Where her black purse was left behind. “...And what is Lisa’s bag doing here?” Marcus’ downcast eyes landed back on me, a shadow of betrayal streaming across his face.

Jeremy raised his shaking head and revealed a devilish grin. “Fuck it.” He turned to face Marcus, and cockily lifted his chin. “Look, Marcus, I was on a date. I just had Dory here as a third wheel since I didn’t want things getting awkward. Is that all you wanted to know?”

This, of course, did nothing to calm Marcus down. “Fuck, no, you rat!” With ease, he scooped Jeremy’s collar with a hand and lifted him up off his seat by a few inches. His regained muscle made it trivial. I could see the bicep peak poking out from under his button-down’s sleeve. “What made you think you could date her? She doesn’t even like jazz!” 

With an unbothered scoff, Jeremy gripped Marcus’ hand, releasing some of the tension in the stronger man’s grip. “And what would you know? She broke up with you, right? I should be asking you what made you think you of all people could date a catch like her.”

“Jeremy, I—“

Marcus barked at me. “Not right now, Dory! I don’t want to hurt you as much as I want to pulverize this motherfucker into the ground.”

Despite the situation he was in, Jeremy pulled his lips into a smirk and stood up, careful not to let Marcus’ grip tighten to the point of suffocation around his neck. “You think I’m scared just because you grew a few inches? I’ve dealt with people thirty pounds heavier than you’ve ever been.” Jeremy blew a puff of air into my friend’s nose. “Now, are you going to let go, or are you going to show me how weak your bite is?”

With a grunt, Marcus pulled his fist back. I saw it clench at the side of his face, pale-white, tense as granite, more than willing to blow a hole through Jeremy’s ribs if it meant getting him out of the picture. 

I couldn’t stop him. The punch moved too fast for my eyes to follow, and I blinked. Jeremy didn’t utter a word; not that he could when he was flying through the air and crashing onto the fake wooden floor behind him. A drop of blood dripped down his red nose, and Marcus was starting to hyperventilate. I could see it written on his face: the instantaneous regret from that one act of violence. The unmistakable sound of a whimper trailing his every wheeze-like grunt. He’d never done anything like that before, not in the years I knew him. This was the first time he’d ever punched anyone—or anything for that matter, and I could tell it was getting to him. There were people he’d hurt before, but never like this. There was never any blood.

Everything was happening so fast. I didn’t know what to do. I stood up to try and mitigate the fight before things got too ugly, but I couldn’t move; my feet were cemented onto the ground in placid fear. I was praying for a miracle that Lisa couldn’t hear anything from the women’s room. Not when both men pining for her attention were hell-bent on hospitalizing the other. 

Jeremy stood up with the grace of a new-born moose, shaky and in desperate need of support. There was blood covering his nose, his cleft, his lips. He looked crazed, insane. I thought it would end there. I thought wrong. 

With a forward lunge, despite Marcus’ increased weight, Jeremy grabbed him by the shirt and threw him further into the cafe like a ragdoll. The few moments in Lisa’s touch had given Jeremy more than enough strength to accommodate Marcus’ bulk. The poor guy didn’t even notice what had happened until he crashed on the ground with a thud. His dress shirt’s buttons had been torn off in the process, leaving his bare chest—and meteorite necklace—exposed. 

“You asked for it,” Jeremy muttered, raising a fist. There was bloodlust in his eyes, the adrenaline from the pain coursing through his veins like a drug. 

I tried to stop them. “Jeremy! Stop!” But I was trapped in a vacuum. No one could hear me. No one was listening. Only the three of us populated the bar. 

Marcus was tearing up. He was staring at the fist hovering over his face, a shallow fear etched on his face, as if waiting for it to come down. 

I wanted to stop them; I did. Yet there was still a pained effort to be made in finding the right limbs to move. It was embarrassing, unseemly, and I could do nothing but take my first step and watch as the first swing connected with Marcus’ jaw. One step, one punch. It was a rhythm I found to push me forward and get between both men. Everything had blurred around me: the sounds, the sights, the smells—every little thing but Marcus. He was staring at me as the blood dripped from his nose, his lips. 

I moved without thinking.

Jeremy caught me in the corner of his eye bending over to pry them away. But all I’d managed was Marcus’ necklace firmly in my hands—then Jeremy shoved me away, taking the meteorite with me. I knew it was the only way for me to help. 

I crashed to the ground and took a hit in the back by a chair. A loud crash echoed, and both Jeremy and Marcus’ eyes turned to me. They both cried out simultaneously, “Dory!” 

I was lucky it wasn’t too hard of a hit. A bruise at most. There was still a tingling sensation in my fingers, and I could still open my eyes. And they grew wide. Because while Jeremy was worried, Marcus’ pained frown was slowly fading away. The tan in his cheeks returned, and the blood on his face was drying to a solid rust in an instant. It was as if the wounds had closed and cut off the blood that had just escaped. His breathing stabilized, and before Jeremy could blink, Marcus began to chuckle.

“What the fuck’s so funny?” Jeremy asked.

Marcus rubbed a hand across his face, and with it came the dried crusts of his blood. He grinned, menacingly, and reached for Jeremy’s wrists, holding him in place with a vice-like grip. “Oh, fuck…” he moaned, chewing his lip, juggling something in his crotch. “What’s funny is you don’t know what’s about to happen to me.”

There was worry in his eyes when Jeremy looked to me over his shoulder. “What’s he talking about?”

“I’m about to show you just how weak my bite is.”

Then, there, without any warning or preamble, both Jeremy and I were fixed in place as we watched in helpless fascination as Marcus began to expand. 

It wasn’t gradual; like his most recent growth spurt, this was a visible surge, as though his body, still pinned under Jeremy’s, was stretching upwards and outwards as a balloon would. A moment’s breath later, and the remaining buttons holding down his dress shirt popped off. The fabric fell to the floor at his sides, exposing the ridges of muscle under his enlarging pecs. His chest was becoming rounder, more bulbous as they were making room and almost forcing Jeremy to move. 

His arms weren’t left behind either. Though Monday had pushed his once-athletic arms to gym rat territory, they were quickly blowing past that as they too rounded out. His biceps and triceps were visibly growing apart, turning his upper arms into meaty footballs. 

“Mmph!” Marcus moaned, biting his lip. Despite his upper body widening, his waist remained largely the same size. This only accentuated the rate at which his shoulders, growing globes in their own right, were pushing apart, sliding across the wood floor, making him even wider than he already was. The extreme V-taper had returned to Marcus’ body, and he laughed.

Marcus moaned, almost in a roar, as he brought up both his growing arms and flexed. Pressing both against the floor caused the swelling muscles to bunch up and appear even bigger than moments before. “Fuuuck! Look at me. I haven’t felt this fucking strong in weeks! I’m so huuuge.”

Jeremy’s voice cracked. “What the hell?!”

“You can’t hurt me now, ya’ dick.”

And Marcus only continued to grow. His legs burst out of his pants and joined the rags that had been left behind in the wake of Marcus’ embiggening. There was an impressive distance his body had traveled along the floor from the point he first tore out of his dress shirt. He’d gotten tall enough to close the gap between him and Jeremy. 

Try as he might to keep Marcus pinned on the ground in-between his legs, Marcus’ enormous torso and horse-wide thighs were pulling Jeremy into a split. He didn’t have a choice but to get off and stand up. His hands clipped onto the table’s lip behind him as he watched Marcus continue growing along the fake wood floor. If the tables weren’t bolted down, he would’ve toppled backwards.

The blonde man’s erection had snaked its way out of his white briefs and stood tall, pointing at the ceiling fan like an obelisk of meat, topped by a bulbous head.

Marcus then planted a hand on the floor and stood to his full height. “God, I’ve missed how great it feels to be big!” he cried.

Jeremy couldn’t believe his eyes as Marcus finally stopped growing and waddled over. And he was looking down at his assaulter. Not up. Down, by at least two inches. 6’4” or 5”, I figured, since the now-smaller man was 6’2”. He didn’t grow any taller past that point, as if it stopped just to prove that he was the biggest man in the room. Even with Jeremy’s own respectable build, toned to the bone with fibrous muscle, Marcus’ formidable physique made him look like he hadn’t eaten a day in his life, bulging in all the right places with smooth, perfect meat.

Marcus cracked his knuckles and his neck as he raised himself even higher by standing on his tip-toes, looming dangerously high, and close, over Jeremy’s pale face. “So you still want to see how ‘weak’ I am, or are you going to get out of my sight, you miserable twink.” He then raised both his arms again and flexed triumphantly. The overhead lighting cast dark shadows all over his back and arms, making him look even more menacing. 

“Wh-what the fuck! Just because you can grow doesn’t mean any of that muscle is real.” Jeremy’s confident facade was cracked. 

Marcus sniggered and reached past him. I didn’t know what it was he was going for, since the table behind Jeremy was empty. But then he dug his hand under the table and grabbed it by the stand. 

“You don’t think I’m as strong as I look? Is that a challenge? Your final answer?” With a guttural yell, not giving Jeremy a moment to think, Marcus tore the table straight off its bolts and threw it across the cafe, straight over Jeremy’s head, crashing it into the stage. All with the strength in a single hand. And it wasn’t the dominant one. “Now say it again. Let’s see you try to hurt me now. If you’re up for a game or Mercy, we—“

“Marcus?! Stop!”

All three of us turned to the women’s room where Lisa emerged from hiding. I never called her. She’d likely heard the crash of the table flying across the room. I doubt she had any idea what had just transpired—though, one look at the big Marcus would’ve told her everything she needed to know about what happened in her absence. And it wasn’t pretty.

“What did you do?” she asked, suppressing her fury.

“Babe, I—“

Jeremy interrupted with a cough. He walked back over to Lisa with a fake limp and rubbed his head. “Lisa! You’ve got to get your ex under control. He just started growing and tore the place apart!”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop acting. I’ve been with enough men to know a fake limp from a real one.” She then sighed and lowered her head, folding her arms across her chest in surrender. “And I know Marcus. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not if he didn’t want to fuck it.”

Marcus smiled at the remark, and I saw his lips quiver and his face soften. His shoulders relaxed and drooped somewhat, though it was hard to tell when his neck muscles were propping his entire torso up.

“Just go home, Jeremy,” Lisa said. “I don’t think we’re going to work out, after all.” She continued, turning to Marcus who was eyeing her curiously, “And I meant what I said. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry. I just need a break from men for a while.”

Marcus maintained a smile, though pitiful. “I get it.” Then, as if he didn’t, he raised his right arm and slapped the mountainous bicep peak. “But even when I’m so damn—“

“I said ‘no’, Marcus. And please cover up that fire hydrant you call a cock. It’s bringing back bad memories.”

He did as he was told, and even bothered to clean up. It was never going to be usable without its base, but Marcus placed the table he’d torn off back in its spot on the floor. Lisa even offeredN to drive him home, on the condition that he didn’t talk to her, look at her, or offer her ‘some good, good sex like old times.’
N
I thought that was the end of Marcus’ growing for a while. I still had to fix his necklace and return it without attracting too much suspicion. There were still so many things I didn’t understand about the way the meteors affected his body. (Un)fortunately for me, Wes’ birthday held more surprises than a stripper bound to be hiding in the cake.

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