Cheat Day

Corey was trudging home after a long day at the office. More like ANOTHER long day at the office in a seemingly interminable series of long days. He'd gotten into tech because it sounded easy – comfy chairs and air conditioning – but reality was proving more stressful.

Thank god is was Friday. He was ready to sedate himself with a hot shower, an extra large pizza, and a Star Trek marathon.

Corey felt safely anonymous, kitted out like every other techie in San Francisco. A black hoodie over a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and black converse shoes. A black backpack that held a laptop and a moleskin notebook full of startup ideas.

He waved his card and let himself into the building. Corey lived in unit 301 – just turn right out of the elevator, all the way at the end of the hall.

When you repeat the same actions day after day, you stop noticing the details. Corey walked down the hall and waved his card at the lock on autopilot. His door clicked open and he stepped aside. He dropped his backpack on the floor and was halfway to the bedroom before he noticed anything unusual.

The apartment smelled wrong.

He wrinkled his nose. It reminded him of the mens locker room in high school. For a moment Corey wondered if he forgot to do laundry again... he headed for his bedroom to try and find the source.

He flipped on the light and stopped short. Corey had never been one to decorate – he didn't have the time or the interest. At twenty-six, nobody expected any better.

Instead of four blank walls, the whole room was covered in posters. Mostly sports and movies, but a couple were just muscular guys posing in their underwear. Definitely not his style.

He wasn’t sure whose style it would be. The underwear models were clearly meant for some girl, but Corey didn’t know any girls who liked basketball and action movies too. And what kind of girl would want a Michael Jordan bedspread?

Corey narrowed his eyes. Someone had to be playing a prank on him. But who? Nobody had a spare key, and it wasn't like the landlord was going to break in for this.

Whoever redecorated his room... Whoever replaced all his stuff...

What if they were still there?

Corey's heart skipped a beat. He glanced around the room. There was nobody else here. He hadn't seen anyone on the way in.

He took a deep breath.

'It's okay,' he told himself silently. 'Calm down. This is just a stupid prank.'

He walked into the living room and shook his head. Whoever was playing the prank, it went beyond the bedroom. Corey's TV had gone from a reasonable 42” to a giant 83” monster. It was muted, but someone had left it on, tuned to ESPN.

There were more posters on the wall, but these ones were framed like art. Classic athletes in their prime. Jordan dunking. Ali and the knockout. Moments so iconic that even Corey recognized them.

He ran his hand along the back of the couch. Instead of the plush purple couch he used to own, this one was black leather. It was uncomfortably stylish, reminding Corey of a dentists waiting room. He would never buy this... he liked something you could sink into.

Corey’s bookshelves were gone, and the hundreds of fantasy books with them. He hoped whoever had setup this prank hadn't actually thrown them away or damaged anything. Some of that stuff was seriously collectable.

There was a single shelf remaining, overflowing with trophies. MVP from a high school football team. Winner of the state championships. Some alumni award from his college. It was like someone had staged an alternate version of his life, where he’d been a jock or whatever. They’d even mounted a basketball net above the kitchen garbage.

Corey breathed out slowly. He was alone in the apartment.

When Corey was a kid, he used to play pranks on people all the time. He'd hide their toys, write fake love notes, or leave a rubber snake in their bed. It was immature, but a lot of fun.

Now he was on the receiving end. Whatever this was, it was a lot more elaborate than a rubber snake.

Corey took in the decorations one more time.

Whoever did this really went all out. But why? He didn't know a single person who cared about sports or trophies or any of that stuff. The only person with a key to his apartment was Wes, a buddy from work, and Wes wasn't the guy to play a prank like this.

Wes was, to be charitable, an even bigger nerd than Corey.

Still... he hadn't seen Wes at the office. He had the ability and the opportunity. But what was the motive?

His phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and saw a new text from Wes. He probably wanted to gloat about freaking Corey out. Finally, time to get some answers.

Corey unlocked his phone and tapped on the notification.

> bro, u there??

Corey frowned. It wasn't like Wes to be so casual. Something must be up.

He typed back cautiously.

'Hey. Just got home. What's up?'

There was a long pause. The kind of pause where you know someone is thinking carefully. Wes finally replied.

> U ok?

Corey smirked. Yeah, Wes was definitely behind this. Fishing to see if Corey would freak out. He decided to play it cool instead.

'Yeah. Good prank Wes... can I have my stuff back now?'

Another long pause before Wes finally replied.

> shit dude... don't touch nothin' i'm on my way!

Corey sighed. Whatever dumb game Wes was playing... it'd been a long week and he didn't have the patience.

'Yeah, okay, whatever.' he texted back.

For a few long seconds Corey stared at the texts. Wes never talked like that. 'Dude' and 'bro' and text speak. It must be part of the prank.

Corey hoped it was worth it.

In the meantime, he needed a beer.

Corey walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. Instead of the messy kitchen he normally maintained, the whole place was clean and tidy, with the faint smell of cleaning products wafting off the counter. At least he could thank Wes for the maid service.

Wes hadn’t overlooked the fridge either. It was full of tupperware, each one labelled ‘meal prep’ with a date and time indicated on it. It looked like there were six different containers a day, ranging from ‘breakfast 6 AM monday’ to ‘nighttime snack 8 pm sunday’. Each container seemed to have an entire meal, though there wasn’t a lot of variety. Rice and chicken were the mainstays.

Typical Wes. Every detail had been taken care of. If only it was actually funny.

Luckily there was also a six pack of beer with a post-it note that said ‘cheat day :)’. He didn’t know what that meant, but a beer was a beer. He grabbed a bottle and twisted off the cap. He winced at the taste – an IPA. Not usually his style, but between a stressful week and Wes' stupid prank, he needed a drink.

Corey took another swing of the bitter liquid. It wasn’t so bad the second time. Either his tastebuds were going numb, or the taste was growing on him. He thought he tasted a little bit of citrus on the next sip.

With the beer half-downed, Corey slumped down on the uncomfortable leather couch.

He had so many questions, but couldn't think of any to start with. What was Wes playing at? It was weird. This was such an extreme thing to do.

Corey took another sip. He was just glad it hadn't been anything worse. He wasn't sure he could've taken any more pranks.

He reached for the remote. May as well enjoy some TV while he waited for Wes. He tried to pull up Netflix, but the remote stubbornly refused to do anything but flip between sports channels. Corey never realized there were so many.

He tried pulling up the TV guide channel. Again, the channel changed to sports. He tried punching in a channel at random, but after a few seconds, it would skip right back to sports.

This was just ridiculous.

Corey took the last sip of his beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. He tossed the remote beside it. Something must have short-circuited because the TV suddenly unmuted and started blaring the sounds of a basketball game at him.

Corey hit the mute button. It didn't work. The game just kept playing with two men commenting as it went.

"Whoa! Look at that layup," one of the men cheered. "Let's watch that again in slow motion. Pay attention – look at how he gets past the defence!"

Corey slumped back on the couch. The beer was starting to hit and the game wouldn't stop playing. He stared blankly at the TV, watching a slow motion replay of some guy weaving past the other team and scoring a goal.

It was only a game. Just a stupid game.

But he had to admit it was captivating. As the action continued Corey found himself rooting for the Warriors, for no other reason that because they were from the same city. He didn't really understand the rules, but that didn't matter too much... he could just zone out and watch.

He was halfway through the next commercial break when he snapped out of his trance. Where the hell was Wes? Corey grabbed another beer from the kitchen and cracked it open before settling down on the couch again.

The basketball announcers were talking about some lifetime stat or something. Corey let their words flow through him as he stared blankly at the screen.

Why did Wes have to mess with his Friday night? He hadn't pranked Wes at all. All he wanted was some relaxation. Instead he was forced to watch a game he barely understood, getting drunk alone in an apartment that smelled like a locker room.

Stupid Wes.

Corey took a long sip from his beer and belched. The taste was really growing on him... he'd have to find out where Wes bought the sixer from. If Wes showed up at all...

Finally he heard a sharp rap on the door.

"Bro, you in there?" he heard a deep voice call out. "Bro, c'mon, open up!"

Corey frowned. He'd never heard Wes sound like that before. Wes was more nasal and whiny. But who else could it be?

The sharp rap on the door came again. "Bro!"

Corey figured he'd better get up and answer it. He needed a fresh beer anyway.

He found Wes standing in the hallway with a grin plastered on his face. But it wasn't the Wes he knew. Instead of the nerdy computer programmer that Corey worked with, Wes was dressed like some kind of bro version of himself.

Instead of his standard hoodie and jeans combo, Wes was wearing camo cargo pants that went down to his calves, and a tight black t-shirt. His hair was gelled into spiky tufts that looked like they had been carved by a chainsaw. The new style made him look closer to 22 than 32. The tight clothes made him look far buffer than he really was.

"Hey bro!" Wes said, flashing Corey a thumbs-up and a wide grin. "Thank fuck, you're still you."

"What the hell are you doing?" Corey said, craning his neck to look at Wes. "What the hell happened?"

"Hey, look bro, it's still me," Wes said, laughing. "But like... some weird shit's been happening today, okay? Fuck me bro... this place fuckin' reeks."

"Forget about it. What happened?" Corey said, frowning. "Details Wes! You look completely different."

"Yeah, well," Wes said, his eyes darting around the room. "Okay, so first thing's first. I didn't mean to drag you into this bro. Or like... Brett and Noah either. But it got them bro... guess I got to you in time, right?"

"What are you talking about?" Corey said, confused. "What do you mean, it got them?”

"It's like... okay, this is super weird bro," Wes sighed with embarrassment. "So like... I kinda made a wish last night. I was feeling all old and shit, and I sorta used this uh... this is hard to explain."

"So you wished you were young again," Corey said, finishing the sentence for him. "And then you woke up looking like this?"

"Yeah," Wes said, nodding. "Sorta. I did like... this ritual thingy I found online. I wanted to be like... young and sexy and popular. So I found this spell on the internet. It had me use a picture of me and... bro, I used that pic we took last summer. The four of us playing laser tag?"

"You weren't kidding about weird shit," Corey said, shaking his head. "So you're saying magic is real? It turned you into some twenty-something bro? And Brett and Noah too?”

"Bro, I told you, it's fucked up," Wes moaned. "And like... I’m not just saying magic's real. It's real. Fact, okay? Cause I woke up and my whole apartment was different. Like seriously redecorated."

"Yeah, mine too," Corey sighed. "I came home after work and... well, you can come in and see."

"No way bro... we gotta get you outta here," Wes insisted. "Like pronto."

"I'm not leaving," Corey said, crossing his arms. "It's only halftime. I'm probably missing the game right now!"

"Wait... what?" Wes said, giving me a suspicious look. "Bro... you didn't touch nothin' right? Like I told you!"

"No," Corey said, shaking his head. "I didn't touch anything. I mean... I had a couple beers and I watched half a basketball game. It's not like I wrecked the place."

"We gotta go," Wes said, grabbing Corey’s arm and trying to pull him outside. "You don't know what's going on here."

"Oh yeah, and you do?"

"Yeah," Wes said, visibly annoyed that Corey wasn’t moving. He pulled harder. "That's why I'm gettin' you the fuck outta here."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Corey said, holding his ground.

"Bro, it's the same thing that happened to me and the boys, okay? Like I woke up or whatever... and my whole apartment was fucked. I figured the spell went wrong, right? Like maybe it just did my apartment and not me..."

"Okay," Corey said, raising an eyebrow.

"...so I figured no big deal, right? I can always try again. But then I had some food and like... I got jacked, right? I put on some clothes and now I'm like... look bro, everything you touch... it changes you, okay bro?"

"Okay," Corey said, nodding. "That's fucked up."

"It's bad," Wes said, looking really worried. "I mean... look bro, you didn't used to like sports, right? And now you wanna watch the game?"

"Hey," I said defensively. "Just cause it's my first time watching... look, basketballs awesome, okay? Don't knock it til you try it."

"Yeah, bro, this is how it happens! Like, Noah had all these books and shit, right? And like... now they're gone and he's a big-time fuckboy. And Brett... he's into music and stuff, right? Now he's some kinda DJ!"

"So? That's not so different..." Corey said.

"Yeah but bro... they're also like... seriously into each other."

"You mean they're gay?" Corey laughed. "Wes, you almost had me. Okay, good prank, let's go inside and have a beer, okay?"

"No," Wes said, shaking his head. "I'm not pranking you bro. I swear, okay?"

"And you think... what?" Corey laughed. "I stay here and I'm going to turn into some basketball loving homo? You didn't turn gay, right?"

"Nah bro," Wes sighed. "At least... not yet. But bro... here, I got the pic!"

He pulled a folded picture out of his pocket and shoved it at Corey.

"This the pic you used?" Corey said, unfolding it.

"Yeah bro," Wes said, biting his lip. "Don't get freaked out, okay? Just come with me and we'll get you clear. I think maybe we stop this here... maybe the rest of us turn back, okay?"

"What?" Corey said, taking the photo and staring at it. "You're shitting me. You photoshopped this, right?"

"I swear bro, I didn't," Wes said. He looked genuinely scared.

Corey stared at the photo. He vaguely recognized the four men in the picture. Noah. Brett. Wes. None of them looked the same.

"Jesus Christ," Corey whispered.

The four men were posed with laser guns, just like he remembered. But instead of Wes being geeky, he was looked like a carefree bro. He was smiling widely, covered in sweat, and clad in a pair of board shorts and a baggy tanktop that showed off a muscular chest and a pair of thick arms.

"Weird, right?" Wes said, watching his friend stare with confusion.

Brett was there too, but rather than the mild-mannered twenty-something he remembered, this version of Brett was wearing chunky mirrored sunglasses and a neon tanktop. He was bigger and buffer than Corey remembered too. He stuck his tongue in a wild grin.

As for Noah, the black man had gotten younger too, looking no older than 25. He was shirtless, showing off a pair of muscle tits over a tight set of abs. He was wearing a tiny pair of red shorts that barely covered his junk. He was giving off seriously gay vibes – his arm was slung over Brett's shoulders, pulling the other man close.

That just left Corey... in the original picture he remembered wearing a pair of old jeans and some tech conference t-shirt. Now he towered over his friends – he was at least 6'4" in the picture – and was built like a professional athlete. A thin tanktop clung to his muscle and a tight yellow pair of basketball shorts reached midway down his beefy thighs. He had a dumb grin on his face too, and from this angle...

Corey wasn't a hundred percent sure, but it looked like he was squeezing Wes' ass.

"No way," Corey said, shaking his head. "Bro, this is a joke, right?"

"No joke," Wes said, shaking his head. "Bro, I swear..."

"Shit..." Corey said, turning and heading inside the apartment. "I need a beer."

Wes caught the door before it closed. With no other option, he followed Corey inside.

"Bro, please," Wes said, following his friend into the kitchen. "This is no joke. And I don't think..."

"Yeah?" Corey said, walking to the fridge and opening it. "Go ahead, tell me why I should listen to you."

"Because bro," Wes said. "I think if we get you outta here... maybe it breaks the spell, okay? Maybe we all wake up normal, right?"

"So what? You fucked up some magic spell, and now I've got to fix it?" Corey said, putting out two beers and a tupperware. He slid the tupperware into the microwave and started it running.

"Yeah, basically bro," Wes shrugged. "Look, I don't mean you're responsible, I just mean... you're the only one left bro!"

"Seems like you're still fighting it too," Corey pointed out. “You wanna break the spell, you go ahead.”

"I'm too far gone bro," Wes confessed. "Look, bro... I came over tonight cause I want you to stop this, right? But...”

"What?"

“Nothin’ bro, I just..."

Corey wordlessly took long drink of his beer.

"Bro, come on," Wes pleaded. "I want it... but I don't... but... I can't..."

"So what? You're too far gone?"

"Yeah bro... but you can still stop this," Wes said.

Corey shook his head and sighed.

"Maybe I don't wanna," he said. "Look... bro, the last couple hours, I've just been having some beers and watching the game, right? And it's the best I've felt in... years bro. Maybe I don't wanna snap us back into some stressful life... Maybe this is better, huh?”

Corey slammed the photo down onto the counter.

"Look at that bro. We all look pretty fuckin' happy, don't we?"

"I know," Wes said. "But... but..."

"But what?"

"But it's not us bro," Wes begged. "I mean... like... it's not us!"

"It can be," Corey grinned. The microwave beeped and he grabbed the door open. There was a full container of chicken and rice ready to eat. “You said you ate some food and got jacked, right?”

"Don't bro!" Wes begged. "C'mon, just come with me. We'll hit up a bar or somethin' bro. Drinks are on me. Let's just get outta here!"

Corey grabbed a piece of chicken with his fingers and shoved it into his mouth.

"Bro, stop!"

Corey swallowed the chicken and felt a pulse of energy run through his body. He felt a shock flow through him, making him flex hard. A layer of muscle swelled over his body, pushing out his t-shirt just a little bit. Corey cracked his neck and felt a wave of disorientation... when it finished everything was just a bit shorter.

"Bro... you just grew like... and inch," Wes said breathlessly.

Corey just grinned and grabbed another piece of chicken from the tupperware.

"You look..." Wes said, shaking his head. "You look..."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Corey laughed, shoving another piece of chicken into his mouth. As he chewed and swallowed another wave of energy ran through him. Taller. More muscular. Every bit mattered.

He grabbed a fork from the drawer and started shovelling the mixture into his mouth.

"Bro," Wes said, staring at his friend. "You look fuckin' huge."

"Yeah?" Corey grinned. "You wanna see just how huge I am?"

He shrugged out of his hoodie, tugging on the awkwardly tight fabric. Finally he wrestled it off. His t-shirt was tight across his muscles, his lower abs exposed by the short fabric.

Corey shovelled another bite into his mouth before unbuttoning his jeans. His legs were growing too. The way his powerful ass was... he had to strip before he got too big. With each bite he got bigger and hornier.

"You still want it?" Corey asked, wriggling out of his jeans.

"What?" Wes said, staring at his friend. Corey was standing half-naked in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of strained boxers and a t-shirt that looked more like a crop top.

“C’mon bro, you know why you really came here, right?” Corey asked again, reaching down and squeezing his bulge. ”You still want it?"

"Bro, no..." Wes said, though his eyes told a different story. "If we do this bro... I don't think there's any going back..."

"I don't wanna go back," Corey grinned. His boxers were already straining against his thick body. He gave a sharp tug and laughed as they split and fell off his frame. "Go ahead bro... touch it. Touch it... and change."

Wes stared at Corey's hard cock, bobbing in the open air. A heavy set of balls hung under it. He stared in confusion. He wanted it so badly... but... wasn't there something...?

Corey reached out and grabbed Wes' hand. He guided it towards him. Wes couldn't find the will to resist.

"Bro," Wes said, touching another mans cock for the first time. He swallowed hard. "Oh fuck yeah."

Corey grinned. His chest was huge, the straining fabric of his t-shirt barely covering it. He reached for his collar and pulled as hard as he could. With all his new muscle, the fabric didn't stand a chance. He tore the shirt away and tossed it through the basketball net. It landed in the trash with a satisfying swish.

Corey grinned at Wes. Wes' eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open.

"Game's over bro," Corey said. "Lemme show you the bedroom."

He led Wes through the living room, not bothering to mute the TV. After a few beers his thoughts had gone blank, and he liked having the background noise to fill his head.

"Shit," Corey said, pausing by the bedroom door.

"What?" Wes asked.

"I gotta sweet apartment bro," Corey laughed. "Look at all this sweet shit."

"It's nice," Wes said. There wasn't really much to see. Corey's huge body made the room seem tiny, and Wes couldn't stop staring at his cock.

"Come here," Corey said, grabbing the smaller bro and pulling him onto the bed. He kissed Wes roughly, shoving his tongue into the other mans mouth. Wes moaned softly, sliding his hands up Corey's back.

Corey reached down into Wes' shorts and felt up his bubble butt. Wes shivered.

"Fuck dude," Corey grinned. "Your ass is fucking hot."

Wes laughed.

"Bro, I'm not even sure how to do this..."

"We'll figure it out," Corey grinned. "I feel like you're a natural.  That ass of yours..."

"You think so?" Wes asked nervously.

"You've gotta be one of the hottest guys I've ever met," Corey said, reaching out to stroke Wes' hair. "You're totally fucking gorgeous."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah," Corey said, grinning. "And you're a total beast."

Wes blushed.

"Are you ready?" Corey asked.

"Ready?" Wes asked.

"To be my bitch, l'il bro," Corey laughed. "That's why you came here, right?"

"I just... I..." Wes said, slowly nodding. "Yeah... that's why I came here."

"Then you better suck my dick," Corey grinned. "Get me nice and hard."

"I'm..." Wes said, feeling the panic starting to rise in him.

"You're gonna do it," Corey said, kissing Wes again. "You're gonna do it, and then I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you."

"Okay," Wes said, suddenly nervous. He slowly reached out and wrapped his fingers around Corey's thick cock. He moaned as he felt Corey's flesh under his fingertips.

"Oh fuck," Corey moaned. "This is so fucking hot..."

"Yeah," Wes said, slowly stroking Corey's cock. He closed his eyes, leaning forward and licking the underside of the shaft.

"Oh fuck dude," Corey said, his deep voice shaking with pleasure. "That feels so good..."

"I wanna..." Wes mumbled, looking up.

"You wanna what?" Corey asked.

"I wanna..." Wes said, stopping. "I wanna be your bitch."

"Awww yeah," Corey groaned. "Flip over bro."

Wes jumped to his feet and stripped off his clothing. His t-shirt landed on the floor, followed by his shorts. He jumped back onto the bed, sticking his ass up in the air for Corey.

"You're fucking gorgeous," Corey said, reaching out and squeezing Wes' ass. "I love your sweet little ass."

Corey grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside table and smeared some against Wes’ hole.

"Oh fuck," Wes moaned. "Your cock..."

"Take it," Corey said, pushing the head of his cock inside Wes.

"Oh fuck," Wes moaned.

"Push into it," Corey ordered. "Fuck me hard."

Wes moaned, pushing himself back, burying Corey's big cock inside his ass. He pulled back, then pushed himself forward again.

"Oh fuck," Wes moaned. "I'm your bitch."

"Say it," Corey ordered.

"I'm your bitch," Wes said, repeating the words.

"Oh yeah," Corey groaned. "That's it bro."

Wes started fucking himself on Corey's dick, riding it up and down. Corey held himself above Wes, pumping his hips, fucking his bitch.

"I'm gonna cum..." Wes moaned.

"Not yet," Corey said, breathing hard. "Hold it... hold it... now!"

Corey pulled himself all the way out, then slammed back in. Wes gasped, his back arching.

"Aaaaah," Wes moaned. "Fuck yeah..."

"Say it."

"I'm your bitch," Wes said, his voice ragged.

"Fuck yeah," Corey said, pulling out of Wes again. "You're my bitch."

The two men fell asleep with their bodies intertwined.

----------

Wes woke up a few hours later, feeling Corey's body curled up against his. He rolled over, resting his head on Corey's chest.

"Hey there," Corey murmured.

"Hey," Wes mumbled.  "What time is it?"

"A little after one," Corey said. "What're you doing awake?"

"I was just..." Wes said, shrugging. "Thinking."

"Don't think too hard," Corey chuckled. "That shit's bad for you."

"Yeah?" Wes grinned. "I guess you're all about the muscle now, huh?"

"And you're all about my cock," Corey grinned back.

"Okay," Wes said, grinning. “Yeah bro, I’m all about your cock."

"Fuck yeah," Corey said, pulling Wes on top of him. "Fucking whore. Wanna go again?"

So they did.

------------------------

Corey's alarm went off at six AM. Strictly speaking, he didn't need to hit the gym before work. The gym was work now. After yesterday his old career was gone, replaced with a series of modelling gigs and personal escort sessions.

He stretched, then headed for the kitchen. A body like his required a lot of calories to keep going, and his first meal of the day was ready to microwave. Corey slipped the tupperware in to heat, then grabbed the remote and turned up ESPN. Highlights from the night before.

Wes had a great ass, but Corey hated to miss a game.

His phone buzzed, so he fished it out of his pocket. There was a text from Noah.

> missed u at the club last nite :P

Corey grinned. Brett had been playing a set somewhere, hadn't he? And Noah always tried to get them to go dancing. Brett and Noah weren't strictly boyfriends, not like Corey and Wes... but they still ended up in bed more nights than not.

His phone buzzed again. Still Noah.

> c u at the gym :)

Corey liked the message, then tossed his phone down and concentrated on eating. He glanced at the empty beer bottles on the table... lucky for him cheat day only came once a week. Otherwise his abs would be in major trouble.

He finished off the food and headed for the shower.

Wes woke up while he was getting dressed. Corey was standing in a red jockstrap, trying to decide if he wanted to wear rugby shorts or something more conservative.

"Mmmm... morning bro," Wes moaned, propping himself up on his elbows and taking in a view of Corey's athletic back. "Lookin hot."

"Thanks bro," Corey said with a smile. "You think I should wear the red shorts today? Or the blue ones?"

"Go with the red," Wes said. Corey might be dominant in bed, but Wes knew he struggled to make decisions off the boxspring. "They make your cock look huge."

"That's cause my cock is huge," Corey joked, sliding on the red rugby shorts. "And for a shirt?"

"Mmm... go with that white tank," Wes picked. "The one with the cut out sleeves."

Cored knew the one. He'd cut the holes so deep that you could see most of his torso through the openings. Technically the gym had a rule against the cut... but he was so stacked nobody cared.

"You sure you've gotta go?" Wes asked, already knowing the answer.

"Sorry bro," Corey grinned. "Cheat day's only once a week. You know that."

"I know," Wes sighed. "I guess life isn't perfect, huh?"

Corey rolled his eyes and kissed Wes on the forehead. Wes heard the front door slam as his lover headed out for his workout. He leaned back in bed and inhaled deeply. Corey’s place always smelled like sweat and sex and cum.

Life wasn’t perfect – but it was pretty damn close.