Darren looked at Matt, feeling nervous and excited all at once. “You ready?” he asked.
Matt knew butterflies were fluttering in his lover’s guts, but there giddy anticipation in those mocha eyes, and his brilliant smile went straight to Darren’s heart. It was quiet in the little room, but outside the night-time waves sloshed loudly against the ship.
“Ready,” Matt said confidently, like an astronaut signalling final go for lift-off.
Darren looked down at the two unmarked gel capsules sitting pertly in the middle of the round, white table between them. Maybe not a bad analogy, he thought. Matt did kind of look the part, too, all tall and commanding and impossibly fit, more like a runner or a swimmer than a bodybuilder. Darren was trim but definitely not fit; pale to Matt’s tan and fair-haired to Matt’s near-black; hung too big compared to Matt’s beautiful but below-average, sausage-thick, curved-like-a-scythe cock. His eyes were a pallid jade that he found much less interesting than Matt’s rich chocolate eyes. He knew that Matt loved how Darren looked, but he had a million fantasies about a body not his own.
He licked his lips. This was it. This was it!
They were different colors: red for Darren, green for Matt. Darren had watched the man they’d bought them from, an assistant purser with a permanent five o’clock shadow who looked like a Greek fisherman from a romance novel, as he’d eyeballed Matt, twisted five little dials ringing this little tube-like contraption like a sonic screwdriver, and popped out a newly made green gelcap designed just for Matt. Then he’d eyed Darren up and down and done the same thing, producing a red pill that would Mod him into the ideal version of his body. “Don’t get them mixed up,” the stubbly purser had said, though he’d winked at Darren when he’d said it.
Only a few hours before Matt had been sitting at dinner on the first night of their tenth anniversary celebratory cruise mulling over how ridiculous it was for them to break free of their mundanity and come all this way, only to go back to the room and have the same vanilla sex they’d always had. Sure, it was hot, and sure, Matt still triggered his dick to a full-blown, oversized erection just from the sight of him in a snug tee shirt or a body-hugging henley (or no shirt at all). And Matt was the same, going by the way he leered at Darren’s body and his tight, round ass and groped him every chance he got. Still… they had to spice things up somehow, right? He knew they’d both been thinking about adding other guys to the mix for variety, and on a cruise like this it would definitely be possible…
Then it hit him, and he’d glanced up at Matt suddenly and blurted, “You think they have the Mod?” Matt’s eyes lit up.
A few discreet questions, a meet-up behind the laundry bays with the sultry assistant purser and a big wad of cash, and here they were. Spice, change, excitement. After ten years—hell, after thirty-five years, Darren was more than ready. In a lightning move, he plucked up the green pill and gobbled it down before he could stop himself.
Matt gaped at him. “That was—” he started to object, astonished, like Darren had snatched his aioli chicken-burger off Matt’s plate instead of eating his own.
“Go!” Darren interrupted him, his smile huge as his gut churned with expectancy. Or was it happening already? “We want to change together, right?”
Nodding quickly, Matt picked up the remaining red pill between two fingers and brought it to his mouth, his eyes fixed on Darren’s. Then, with a toothy grin, he popped it in his mouth and swallowed.
They stared at each other, waiting. “Shit, we should be naked,” Darren said. Matt’s eyes widened, and they hurriedly shucked their tropical duds—loose shirt-sleeved shirts, knee-length canvas shorts, boxer briefs—and stood facing each other naked. Darren released a nervous giggle. Then… it started. His DNA was being rewritten, and—since he’d taken the “wrong” pill—there was no telling what was going to happen. There were stories about the Mod, wild tales of things going wrong in unbelievable ways… urban legends of effects being doubled or short-circuited when people took someone else’s Mod… whispers of how sometimes there was an inexplicable reaction when two Modded people kissed after the change, resulting in a second, unpredictable round of changes…
The first thing Darren felt was a flood of oddly calming arousal, like being turned on was his natural state. It hummed through him, filling him. He was serene and sexual. His dick started to inflate, and that was eminently normal, too. He began to feel weirdly conscious of being inside his skin, like he and his outsides were two different things. Then there was a sudden wrench of discomfort—not so much a pain as an ache, only it was millions of times over, like a wrench was being slapped against every micro-girder of his body. It hit him again, more intense. He was watching Matt, their gazes still locked, and he had just enough time to be aware of Matt’s eyes widening in shock (was he feeling it too, or alarmed at what was happening to Darren?) before the world went black and he crumpled to the floor.
He came to to find Matt bending over him, stroking his cheek. He felt lightheaded and conscious of being different. He smiled weakly up at Matt. “I fainted,” he said.
“You did,” Matt said fondly, pushing Darren’s bangs back from his forehead. “How do you feel?”
Darren’s gaze caught on Matt’s hair. The deep, dark brown was gone. Instead it was blinding white, no longer short but long and lush and thick, like something supernatural. And Matt’s eyes—how had he missed it? Before they’d been that rich mocha color, but now they were blazing green. And… was he younger?
Matt saw him looking. “I got your changes,” he said with a rueful smile. “And I’m pretty sure you got mine.” Matt grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, and as Darren stood he realized he was rising up, and up, and up. He looked down at himself in stunned disbelief.
The height boost that had been meant for Matt, to make him even taller and studlier, had gone to Darren instead, only it had gone haywire… as had the muscle boost that would have made Darren’s deliciously defined physique worthy of a magazine cover. Darren was now close to scraping the ceiling, his thick, jet-black, shoulder-length hair almost brushing the shiny white surface, and his formerly nondescript muscles were blown out like he’d gotten the lifelong workouts of five gym nuts all packed onto one body, with thick pecs he could probably stack things on and shredded, bulging arms that felt bigger than his legs had been. Though he couldn’t see it his hands told him he had a chiseled eight-pack—no, a ten-pack, like extraordinary measures had been necessary to get him up to this ridiculous height. He was hairy all over, too, like neither of them had been before, a smooth, dark, wispy pelt covering him from neck to ankles. It was all wrong, not him at all, and yet somehow it was deeply right. Like he and Matt had shared something at a profound level, mixing, intertwining, merging themselves body and soul…
Then he caught sight of his wide, erect, jutting penis and groaned.
“Fuck, it was too big before,” he grumped. To distract himself he looked over at Matt, and drew in a sharp breath.
Matt was beautiful. His tall, impressive, fit presence was now compacted into a younger, shorter, more sylph-like figure, still very defined but with skin so pale only his snow-white hair showed he had any pigment at all by contrast. He looked very… flexible, Darren thought. His cock was hard, too, still short and curved but thinner now. Darren’s mouth watered. He wanted to take that cock right into his throat, but he also wanted it in his ass, and he wasn’t sure which he needed first. His own balls tightened, and his aircraft-carrier dick twitched, a drop of pre emerging boldly at the tip.
Matt, for his part, was moving around Darren, sizing him up appreciatively. “I guess I was supposed to go alpha-male,” he mused, and fuck, even his voice was sexier, like he was a goddamned incubus. He gave Darren’s round, powerful a stroke and a slap, adding, “I like it better on you.”
Unable to hold back any longer, Darren turned and snatched up his transformed husband. Holding him tight against his hairy, Colossus body with effortless strength he covered Matt’s now-smaller mouth with his own, intending to kiss him senseless. As soon as their mouths met, though, there was a spark, almost like the misused Mods were finally making contact with their intended bodies. All at once Darren felt another rush of deep, saturating arousal coursing through him like a hot river. He looked at Matt and saw that his vivid green eyes were lit up with excitement. They grinned at each other and dove in for a ferocious kiss, as the Mod hit them for a second time.
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