You Sunk My... (pt. 1)

(This tied as a winning option on the last round of Overcast voting, but it ended up being way too long so I'm posting it for everyone.)

Adam’s calloused hand shook as it hovered over the pile of plastic pieces. He wanted nothing more than to hurl the entire pegboard across the room, to smash it to pieces until there was nothing left but brittle shards. Normally, it would be a feat well within the realm of possibility considering the amount of muscle packed onto the brunette’s burly, six-foot frame, but the situation he and Owen found themselves in was far from normal. It was just supposed to be a night in with board games and beer. The late fall weather had finally taken a hard turn towards the autumnal, with cold winds and even colder rain hammering the city. And while Adam and Owen had maintained their Friday routine of hitting the gym, only something truly cataclysmic would interrupt their unending quest for gains, the thought of navigating the dark, damp streets just to sit in a crowded bar seemed far from appealing. The allure of getting their dicks wet was severely diminished by how soaked the rest of their athletic frames would get in the process, and it wasn’t as if either of the handsome hunks had been going through a dry spell. With his short, earthen-hued hair and bright, boy-next-door smile, Adam was magnetic even without the broad-shouldered build looming below. His laidback charm rendered his powerful arms, prominent pecs and perky bubble redundant, though no one had ever complained about the abundant beauty his body provided. The same went for Owen, whose golden hair matched his lighter complexion, and whose sharper features only served to emphasize the curvy bulk they sat upon. They were a pair of easy-going Adonises, heading into the tail-end of their twenties with barely a worry between them. They each made enough to pay their bills with a little left over, and they had the rest of their lives to worry about careers and families and settling down. For now, they just wanted to go with the flow and have a good time.

Which is what made their current circumstances all the more jarring. Stress in general was a relatively foreign concept for the pretty pair, leaving them entirely unprepared for the kind of existential threat they now faced. Though, to be fair, a cursed board game likely would have caught anyone off guard. Owen had found it in the basement of his centuried apartment building while on the way to the laundry room, sitting in the back of an empty storage unit. The door to the dusty cargo area had been left ajar and without a lock for some time, but the buff blonde had never noticed the game sitting on the back shelf before.

Owen didn’t think there’d be any harm in taking it. The game was just an old version of Battleship, well worn and not anywhere near a collectible condition. It was recent enough to be battery operated, so it wasn’t some rare first-edition, and it didn’t look any different than the thousands of others sitting on thrift store shelves around the world. They’d both been pleasantly surprised to discover that the electronics still worked, that the mechanical voice still buzzed through the speakers and the explosion sounds still responded when one of them placed a red peg in the upper board. But any pleasantries had quickly fled after a few rounds when Adam found himself unable to step away from his chair. Instead of sitting at the uncomfortable table, he and Owen had set up in opposing positions by the TV, Adam in a cushioned recliner and the blonde on the couch, each with a TV tray holding up their respective boards. Nothing had seemed at all out of the ordinary, and the dark-haired man had been able to stand, but as soon as Adam went to take a second step away from his seat his body stopped responding. Owen had obviously thought his friend was just messing with him, until the grating mechanical voice sounded from both of their boards in unison.

“Combatants are not permitted to leave until the battle is finished,” it had buzzed. “Return to your station.”

Like a passenger in his own body, Adam had found himself moving back to his seat, his eyes wide as Owen tested the same boundary and received the same result. They’d both frantically called out questions to the disembodied board but neither received a response until several minutes had elapsed without either of them taking a turn.

“Failure to take a turn will result in destruction of both fleets. Destruction of both fleets will result in all penalties for both combatants,” the voice crackled. “Forfeiting will result in destruction of both fleets. Destruction of both fleets will result in all penalties for both combatants. Resume combat.”

A beeping had followed, steadily picking up pace the longer Adam’s hand hovered over his pegs. “Fuck! I hate this!” he grunted, his heart racing to match the shrill beep. “Fine! D2!” He held his breath when the countdown stopped, letting it out a moment later when nothing seemed to happen.

Adam realized he’d let it out too soon when he saw Owen’s face. “Goddamnit…hit,” the blonde said, sticking a peg into one of his obscured boats.

Adam hated the tinny, distorted explosion that rang out when he marked the strike on his end. “So what happens now? It was talking about penalties…do you, uh…feel anything?”

Owen shook his head and looked around the room, half expecting a chunk of the ceiling to fall on him as if it had been struck by a real torpedo. “No? I don’t feel anything…different…wait,” he said, trailing off.

Adam watched his friend start to squirm and absently tug at his loose t-shirt. “Are you okay? What’s happen…dude! What’re you doing?!”

“Fuck! Gotta get outta these, man,” Owen grunted, hopping to his feet and peeling out of his t-shirt. He tossed it aside before shucking his shorts, hesitating for only a moment before peeling out of the stuffed boxer-briefs that clung to his muscled thighs. “Hooooooly shit that’s better,” he sighed, his strapping frame going crimson when he realized what he’d just done.

“What…what the fuck was that?!” Adam cried, going pale where Owen went flush. “Why’d you just get naked?!”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Instead of covering himself or trying to reclaim his clothing, the blonde simply dropped back onto the couch, his fat package resting heavily on the cushion. “I couldn’t help it. It was like I was being suffocated. I just HAD to get them off.”

Adam let out a short, shocked laugh. “Can you put them back on?”

Owen shook his head. “I don’t think so…I don’t…I don’t want to?” He gasped, his square jaw dropping when he felt the truth of the words. Sitting naked in front of Adam had suddenly become far preferable to the alternative, to the point where he could barely even consider it. “Oh, fuck! Dude! I don’t…I don’t want to wear clothes anymore?!”

“What the hell does that even mean?! What is this fucking thing doing to us?!” Adam raged at the game, but the guilt he felt was directed squarely at himself. He’d called the shot, and he’d been the one who’d apparently just turned his friend into a nudist. “I’m so sorry man! I didn’t mean to…I’d never…” Adam was dizzy with panic now that they’d received their first glimpse of the “penalties” in question, a fresh layer of fear adding a sense of urgency. “Quick, take your shot! I don’t want this thing to bite both of us.”

“Uh…A10!” Owen blurted, still distracted by his own sudden exposure. He and Adam had seen each other naked more times than he could remember, but he’d never just lounged fully exposed in front of his friend before.

“Miss,” Adam said, not catching his wincing expression until it was too late. He kicked himself immediately after, disgusted that he’d even think of trying to actually compete with his friend in this situation. “Dude…what are we going to do?!”

“I don’t know, man,” Owen chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at his naked muscle. “I’m just glad it’s only the two of us right now or this would be even more awkward.”

“Game might’ve done a bunch of people a real big favor,” Adam laughed before catching himself. “Sorry…too soon?”

“Just take your shot, asshole,” Owen barked, rolling his eyes.

“D3.” Adam felt an icy pit form in his stomach when his friend’s broad shoulders fell. The boats went in a straight line, which meant its destruction, and the ensuing penalties for Owen, were now an inevitability. “Hit?”

The blonde nodded. “Lucky shoooOOOOHHHH!” Owen’s eyes went wide as he tensed, a gut-punch of arousal spreading through him. The blushing that had started to fade returned in full as his cock sprang to its full six-and-a-half inches, his plump pecs heaving from the bonfire of lust now burning at his core. Owen couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on, if ever.

“Shit! What the fuck just happened,” Adam asked, feeling invasive as he watched Owen’s cock twitch and the blonde’s pert nipples go hard.

“What’s it look like,” Owen gasped. “I’m just…super horny,” he said, dropping the “all of a sudden” he’d intended. Even before he finished the sentence he knew it wasn’t a statement of the moment, but of an enduring characteristic. Like the clothes he no longer wanted to wear, Owen was always horny.

“I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry,” Adam sputtered. “What can I do? Do you want me to tell you where to…” his voice choked off before he could finish, the mechanical narrator making a reappearance.

“Cheating will result in the penalty impacting the opposing combatant,” it interrupted.

“No need,” Owen shrugged, trying to compose himself. “A9.”

“Hit!” Adam blurted it out, his gratitude at finally sharing the load momentarily outweighing his fear of what the burden would entail. He braced himself for a strip show of his own, but after a moment it seemed like nothing happened. “Wait…did…did anything happen?”

“Well that’s some bullshit,” Owen spat, trying to ignore the sensation of his cock beginning to ooze. “You don’t get anything? Not that I want you to, but I mean…”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Adam said, blinking and shaking his head. He kept finding his eyes lingering on Owen’s naked, erect frame with increasing intensity, a sudden fluttering breaking out in his stomach. He’d always known how attractive his friend was, and while he’d admired the blonde’s body from an objective standpoint, seeing him worked up in all his glory hit very differently. Adam drank it in the way he drank in the sight of a naked woman right before she jumped in his bed. Or at least the way he used to drink in the sight of a naked woman. “Oh…oh! Fuck! Dude…you…you’re…I’m…”

Owen didn’t need his friend to finish. Though the brunette appeared oblivious, he’d watched the tent form in Adam’s shorts while his friend had ogled him. “Uh…did I just get you hard?”

It was Adam’s turn to blush. “Oh god…bro…you’re so hot right now! What the fuck?! I can’t even…just thinking about a chick is like thinking about my mom! But now when I look at you…when I think of the guys…fuuuuuck,” he groaned, years of mundane locker room memories rewiring themselves into erotic fantasies.

“I’m sorry, man! I didn’t mean to make you…you know,” he said with an awkward chuckle. “Is it weird that apologizing for that feels problematic?”

“I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me,” Adam said, realizing too late that it didn’t sound like the joke he’d intended. “D4.”

Owen sighed and shook his head. “Hit and sunk. That was inevitable, I guess. Good thing I’ve got this free hand to start jerkin’ it,” he said, letting out a gasp when he began doing exactly that. While one hand marked his board, the other grabbed his leaking rod and started pumping. “Fuuuuuuck me that feels good,” he grunted, his other hand finding its way to his chest to tweak a nipple. “Felt like I was about to pop over here if I didn’t start beating this meat. I didn’t want to do it in front of you, but fuck it. Don’t really care who watches anymore.” Owen sighed again and pursed his lips, his eyes the only thing betraying his surprise as he spoke. “Good timing on that last hit though, right? At least you can properly enjoy this now. You can do it too if you want…I don’t mind. I’m not into dudes, but it’s pretty hot how hot you are for me. Are you liking this? Wish you could take a taste, bro. Be sooo hot if you sucked me right now,” Owen said, pausing his stroking to lick his cum-slick palm.

Adam didn’t know what to say or what to do. A part of him was vicariously mortified, but a bigger part actually was enjoying the show. Like Owen said, the timing of the last hit couldn’t have been better, giving Adam an entirely different perspective on his friend’s strange actions. Before, he would have been embarrassed and maybe a little envious of his friend’s physique. Now, he desperately wanted to take Owen up on everything he offered. “Dude…dude! Look at what you’re doing!”

Owen blinked, blushing only slightly. “Oh, bro, I know,” he said, the hand that was on his chest dropping low to knead his churning balls. “Not trying to make it weird…there’s just no brakes anymore, you know? It’s like I think of something to do or say and it just happens. I know I shouldn’t be talking about how good it feels to play with my balls or how much I really like doing this in front of you or how I’m going to cum like a fucking super soaker but I can’t…can’t help..iiiuunnnhhhh…!” The buff blonde broke off in a grunt, his every ample muscle going tense before he launched ropey strand after ropey strand into the air like a geyser. “Whooooooo….goddamn,” he whistled a moment later. “That felt fucking great, dude! Did you see how big that load was? Took the edge off, at least,” he sighed, his grin finally fading as the tides of lust ebbed. “Oh…oh wow. This is…a lot,” he said, blinking down at his spent, naked body in a daze. He’d lost one boat, and with it had gone his clothes, his ability to control his arousal, and his ability to control himself.

“Are you…” Adam started to ask if his friend was okay, then realized how foolish the question was. “You should probably take your shot,” he said instead, his guilt growing over how much he was enjoying at least the visual elements of the other man’s predicament.

Owen took a deep breath and shook his head. “B9,” he said, jumping in his seat at Adam’s sharp, sudden gasp.

The words spilled from the brunette’s mouth before he could stop them. “Ugh. Hit, bitch,” Adam sighed, waving a hand and rolling his eyes as he marked his board. “Sunk, too. She just went down faster than me once I can move again,” he purred, batting his eyes at Owen.

“What…uh…is happening, exactly,” the blonde asked with a short laugh. Like a switch had been flipped, the burly brunette’s body language had shifted noticeably, as had both the words and way he spoke.

Adam didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to acknowledge the mental shift, how all the things he’d been programmed to enjoy as a straight man had suddenly lost all interest. Sports, women, beer, performative masculinity; all of them now struck him as repellent. He was still interested in the gym, but that was just to ogle the guys and get pumped and pretty. His new priorities revolved around fashion and skin care and music and dancing, completing his transition from straight jock to flamboyant femme. Adam knew he’d just become a stereotype, but it wasn’t as if the game dealt in subtlety. “Omigod! Girl, I’m, like, sooooo fucking gay. Like, gay. Like, dick-sucking, purse-buying, brunch-with-the-girls GAY,” he cried, suddenly feeling like a stranger in his own skin. He squirmed in his seat, wanting to peel out of his clothes the way Owen had. Not because they were suffocating, but because the loose t-shirt, mesh shorts and boxers felt frumpy and ugly. He wanted tight, bright and colorful, not drab and generic.

“Woooowwww,” Owen laughed. The reaction was borne more out of surprise than at his friend’s expense as he struggled to wrap his head around the caricature that Adam had become. The other man had never been the most macho guy in a room, but even Adam in his least masculine moments was nowhere near the muscle queen pouting across the room. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

The brunette flapped a hand onto his chest, biting at his lower lip. “It was, like, weird enough wanting a dick up my ass. But, like, feeling naked without my foundation and concealer? What the fuck?!”

“Bro, don’t talk to me about feeling naked,” Owen sighed, his cock steadily twitching back to life. “I’m about to start jerkin’ it again over here.”

Adam couldn’t believe how odd, and wrong, it suddenly seemed for his friend to refer to him as “bro.” The label felt as if it no longer applied, as if he was no longer part of the same group despite his outward appearance. “Sorry…I know I shouldn’t be complaining, I just…”

“I’m not mad at you, man,” Owen grinned, absently toying with his cock as promised. “This is actually kinda hot. You being all buff and queeny and shit while I’m sitting here tugging on this straight jock meat? Fuck, dude…we’d make so much money on OnlyFriends,” he chuckled. It was becoming clear that Owen’s lack of a filter intensified in time with his arousal, as was proven when he started tugging on himself again in full. “Bro, for real…do it with me. Whip that shit out!”

It took every ounce of Adam’s self control not to comply. “I don’t think we have time for that right now,” he sighed, painfully aware of the damp spot forming at the crest of his tented shorts. “Owen…for real…like…what do we do? We can’t just keep this up,” he huffed, still jarred by his altered tone.

“What CAN we do,” Owen shrugged. “I’m open to ideas, dude. But either hurry up and figure out a plan or take your shot...I think this thing is starting to vibrate over here.”