i'm Michael: Transformation: A Supernatural LGBT Romance Page 4

  “What? It’s a legitimate concern when leaving a teenager alone.”

  As Jacob stood to bring his own empty plate to the sink before snagging an extra piece of bacon from the pan to munch on.

  “Oh, you know me, dad. I’ll probably spend my whole day studying ― Senior year and all.”

  Alan folded his paper and set it down on the table, “Yes, that it is. Do try to have some safe fun this year though ― you’ll have plenty of studying to do this whole year without cramming it all in in the first couple of months.”

  Jacob laughed and walked past his dad, clapping him on the shoulder as he went, and picked his discarded bag up. “Oh, I’ll try dad. I’ll try.”

  As he headed out the door for the walk to school, all he could think about was all the possibilities with this new power of his. Among all of those possibilities, however, was the ever present self-warning to not allow anyone to see what he could do lest he get locked up in some lab somewhere to be studied like a lab rat. Thankfully, he thought as the school came into sight, I’m not an idiot, so this should be fun. Look out Gandry, you have no idea what you’re dealing with now. His smirk was cleverly hidden as he walked through the familiar doors of Treyton High and proceeded towards his locker to start the day.

  *

  It wasn’t until the break between the first and second period when Jacob was walking out of his Calculus class that he saw Tyler walking towards him. He looked furious. Probably over the way I kicked his ass yesterday. He thought as he tucked his thumbs under the straps of his backpack and waited for Tyler to storm over.

  “Hey, you! Runt! You and me’s going to have words…”Soon enough Tyler was standing over top of Jacob’s smaller form and Jacob was looking up at him ― there was no fear on his face.

  “What do you want Gandry. Can’t you see I’m on my way to class?” Jacob rolled his eyes at the taller boy, wishing his new form has stuck around suddenly.

  Tyler glared at him, looking left and right for a moment to ensure no teachers were coming before slapping a hand on either side of Jacob’s head one on the cinder block wall and one with the thumb of his hand inside an open locker. Now, Jacob had excellent peripheral vision so he knew without turning his head that the locker was open next to him and judging by his angle leering over him his hand had to at least partially be over the edge of that locker; it helped that he also knew that Tyler’s reflexes sucked.

  “I still owe you a pounding for ratting me out on that school trip, worm. And you’re gonna get one after school got it?” Jacob arched his eyebrows at him thinking, Oh, really, now. Try doing that with a broken hand? Before he blinked once, concentrating hard and caused the open locker door to suddenly slam shut right onto Tyler’s thumb and forefinger - hard. In the same moment, Jacob rolled his head to the side just enough to avoid being clipped himself.

  What happened next was a look of intense pain in Tyler’s wide eyes and then a single tear rolled down his cheek before he suddenly pulled backward cradling his hand: a large purple and red bruise was quickly blossoming from the base of his thumb up the digit and partway up the finger next to it.

  The stream of profanities that issued from Tyler’s mouth just then turned every head in the hall and made a slight smirk twitch at the corners of Jacob’s mouth for a moment. It vanished the moment Tyler was looking at him but perhaps not quick enough.

  “What are you laughing at, Runt? Think this is funny do you?” That was when Tyler’s face paled as a sudden realization and thought struck his mind - no it was impossible but… it had to be. In the space of a few seconds, Jacob could practically question how such a thing was possible before Tyler moved forward to grab a handful of his T-shirt again.

  “How did you do it, Runt. I know it was you…” Tyler growled in his ear.

  Keeping his face as plain as he could Jacob stared back up at Tyler, “Do what? That? How could I slam a locker that hard from where I was standing? Really, Tyler… you sure you didn't lose some brain cells from lack of oxygen?” He gestured with his head at Tyler's hand held aloft as he mentioned it. He had to admit he was enjoying torturing Tyler in this way for all the crap he had pulled over the years. He was, however, surprised that using his newfound powers hadn't made him suddenly change like the previous night. Perhaps little things weren't enough to effect a change… he would have to test this theory over the weekend.

  Tyler, meanwhile, just growled at him in an animalistic way. It really was quite humorous to Jacob, but he knew he had to get to class soon and so he decided to hurry the whole affair on.

  “As fun as this dance is Tyler. I really do need to be getting to class and you should probably go get your hand seen to by the nurse. So if you would be so kind as to release me we can be going our separate ways.” He paused for a heartbeat or two before a smirk spread across his face. “Unless you liked what happened to you yesterday?”

  Tyler’s eyes suddenly widened at the memory of flying through the air and he quickly let go of Jacob’s shirt, backpedaling quickly at the memory. Jacob simply smoothed out his shirt, readjusted his backpacks bit and gave Tyler a jovial wave. “See ya around T!” He added cheerfully as he started walking toward his AP Physics class.

  *

  For the first half of the day Jacob’s time was split between concentrating in class, including trying to levitate small objects across the room and avoiding Tyler’s attempted sneak attacks. Even a bruised thumb didn’t seem to slow the bully down because he kept finding newer and more inventive ways which exercised Jacob’s own skill by forcing him to be just as inventive.

  On one such attempt, Tyler attempted to stuff him in a garbage can - only to find that what he had grabbed was someone else's backpack that Jacob had carefully slid on the floor as he sidestepped the grab. Smirking as he looked backward at the furious look on Tyler’s face, not to mention the kid whose backpack Tyler had just shoved in the garbage, Jacob had to suppress a laugh as he pushed his way into the lunch room finally.

  Tyler seemed to have exhausted his list of pranks and attempts to get a hold of Jacob because throughout the entire lunch hour he just sat in his seat glaring across at Jacob. Not to mention, he went the entire day without having to defend or otherwise dodge any more trash stuffing attempts.

  What Jacob was still puzzled over, was how he had been using his new powers all day and he had yet to physically transform like he had the previous night. It was definitely something that he began formulating a plan to test over the weekend as he made his way home that night.

  *

  The rest of the week was basically a montage of avoiding Tyler where possible and using his new telekinetic abilities in various ways to defend himself when avoidance was out of the question. However, he made it through the week and soon enough Friday evening dawned on him and he was leaning against the door frame to his parent's bedroom, hands stuffed in his pockets, as they prepared a small bag a piece and gave him the “no wild parties” speech. “... and I do not want to come back home to find out you’ve been staying up all night. So, do get to bed at a decent hour over the weekend will you, Jacob?”

  Jacob sighed and forced a small smile on his face, “Yes, yes, of course, Mom. No parties, don’t stay up too late - in fact, don’t stay out too late either. Just be my usual boring self - got it.” He counted off each item on a finger as he said them and gave a reassuring smile as his father strode forwards to ruffle his hair and pat him on the shoulder.

  “He’ll be fine, Katherine. Won’t you, Jacob m-boy?”

  Jacob grinned wide, and cheesily, “Of course, Dad. Never better. The weekend will be over before I know it.” Soon he was waving goodbye to his parents as they backed out of the driveway and he stood on the front step. He remained there for a few more minutes as he watched a few cars drive down the street before turning to wander back inside, clicking the lock on the door as he closed it before heading into the kitchen to fix himself a snack.

  *

  Approximately 10 minutes later he w
as walking through his bedroom door with a tuna sandwich on a plate and a glass of chocolate milk. After setting the plate and glass down he picked up the sandwich and took a bite, chewing slowly as he thought about how best to practice with his new abilities. That was when he noted the piles of dirty laundry everywhere and the conspicuously empty laundry basket. Setting the sandwich down he took a seat in his desk chair and took a deep breath.

  Then, concentrating, he focused on a T-shirt laying haphazardly off the end of his bed - willing it to lift into the air. It did so with minimal effort, hanging limply in the air as he waved his hand in the direction of the basket until it dropped inside

  “Sweet,” he said to himself triumphantly as he began to mentally pick up more and more laundry. The thing he noticed, was that the more weight he picked up - the more he felt the tug on his mental facilities. Once all of the dirty laundry was in the hamper, and he could miraculously see the floor again, Jacob had to sit as he felt the exhaustion that came with the actions. As he sat finishing his sandwich, with occasional gulps of milk, he pondered the feeling.

  It felt as if he had actually run around the room picking the clothes up - but a mental exhaustion opposed to a physical one. The idea intrigued him and he glanced around the room for something heavier to attempt to lift. His eyes settled on his desk against which he was leaning. His bed had been heavy enough, but the desk - well it was made of solid oak.

  Moving his now empty glass to his bedside table Jacob settled down in the middle of his bed cross-legged again and stared at the desk. For a moment nothing happened, and then suddenly the desk started to shudder and lifted millimeters from the ground; as if he had been trying to lift it physically. It dropped back to the floor with a loud thud that made Jacob glad he was home alone and he sat panting for a few moments and cursing his small, weaker size. Determined, however, he almost glared at the desk and tried again willing any ounce of strength he possessed into the thought of lifting the desk into the air.

  As he struggled, a bead of sweat rolling down his face, he suddenly felt an itch, a tickle in the back of his mind. He mentally scratched at it as if that would help his efforts. Strangely, the more he scratched at that itch the easier the weight of the desk seemed to get; he had also started to glow a phosphorescent yellow color. The more he urged his mind to lift the desk, and scratched the mental itch - the brighter he seemed to glow. Soon, he felt a burning, twisting sensation and even though he has his eyes frozen on the desk he could feel his limbs twisting and stretching as they grew.

  Muscles began to stretch and pull as they grew from his existing ones and stretched across his chest. He grunted with the discomfort but pushed himself to continue until suddenly the desk lifted several inches off the floor. It was then that the glow subsided, slowly, and the desk seemed to float in the air weightlessly that he was able to look down and got the shock of his life.

  He now had more muscles than he thought possible to attach to his small frame. His chest heaved as the muscles there stretched and strained, his arms twitched as he flexed them experimentally and his legs threatened to kick out with how much the muscles were spasming. The desk suddenly dropped to the floor with a much louder thud as Jacob stared down at his new body again.

  Ignoring the desk, he stretched his legs out and sat on the edge of the desk staring into the mirror for a moment before tugging the shirt over his head to look at his new physique. In addition to the expanded chest that looked as if he had been doing chest presses for months, he also now had what appeared to be a fairly well-defined six-pack in his abdomen.

  Curious, he stood up and stripped down to his boxer-briefs and inspected the rest of himself. Not only were his thighs notably much bigger around than before - in the groin area he appeared to be packing something much larger and well defined. Doing what a small child might do he pulled the underwear forwards and got an eyeful of the changes inside.

  He knew he had always been not exactly small, while not huge, but somehow now the bulge in his boxers was more pronounced. Smirking as he looked in the mirror again he flexed and changed the angle of his arms a few times.

  Damn, he thought to himself before turning back to pull a pair of lounge pants on and collect his abandoned glass and plate to return to the kitchen. As he deposited his plate and glass in the sink his mind was reeling with all of the possibilities for this new transformation, for his newfound powers. But also, it was wondering just how long this transformation would last; if he would have some explaining to do to his parents.

  With that in mind, he decided to watch a movie before working on some homework. However, as he was trying to select a movie he happened to glance up and out the side window to see Hannah, his neighbor, sunning herself on her back deck.

  Now, Hannah was one of the girls who had developed early. She had these amazing curves, flat stomach, and breasts that appeared to be the perfect size for some lucky teenager to cup in his hands. It hadn't been the first time, and he was sure it wouldn't be last, that Jacob had beat one off watching her. Today was no different as he felt a stirring in his pants and they became uncomfortably tight.

  For the next few minutes, he watched Hannah as he relieved himself onto his stomach. Once he was finished he wiped his load off his body and walked to the bathroom to flush the tissue and then collapsed down into his desk chair with a contented sigh.

  He sat staring across the room for a few moments before realizing just how warm he was and tugged his shirt off up over his head; throwing it in the hamper like a free throw shot. Exhaling, he pushed himself back to a standing position and after a moment's pause decided to go play some video games in the living room. As he turned the flat screen on he had to chase his head at the conversation he was remembered having with his parents about why he couldn't have his gaming system up in his room. They had said that they would never see him if everything he used for entertainment was in his room. Although he had privately agreed, that hadn't stopped him from attempting to argue the point to eventual defeat.

  However, after all, that he rarely used the system except when he was home alone; irony at its finest he chuckled to himself as the system powered up with the insertion of the game disc and slipped the headset over his ear. He sat back in his seat, leaning against the padded back of the couch, as he joined a random team and helped to pick their way across the map.

  *

  It wasn't long before he was leaning forward, arms on his legs and shouting into the mike. “Come on, man! Get with the program or we’re going to fuckin’ lose!” There was a crackling in response before his teammate from somewhere across the Atlantic's voice came through.

  “Then give me some support, dude.”

  “Dude, I'm taking all the hits for you! Wasting my freakin’ shield power over here! Get around the damn co-.” He let out a growl of frustration and hung his head, “Annnnnnd… I'm dead… Thanks…” There came a crackling response that sounded like some sort of swearing or perhaps something said in another language and his teammate disconnected. Jacob rolled his eyes and tugged the headset off of his ear and cast it down on the coffee table along with his game controller - running his hand down his face and then through his hair before looking up at the clock.

  As usual, he had lost track of time and played through lunch as it was now 2 pm. He reached for the controller and after shutting the game system off followed by the TV, he stood, stretched and walked into the kitchen rumpling the back of his hair as he yawned slightly. As he set out making himself some mac and cheese on the stove, he saw Hannah wander out her back door again clad only in the bikini top; she was carrying a bottle of sunscreen, however. When she looked over at him, on instinct Jacob smiled and she softly smiled back.

  This surprised Jacob because he had never gotten such a smile from Hannah before. It had always been an ‘I'll smile to be polite but I'm out of here’ type of smile. Perhaps it was the dark clothes he generally wore or his general darker attitude - Jacob didn't know, but the smile she gave him just t
hen was different. In addition to the different smile, she also paused and chewed her lip as if deciding something before she suddenly sped around the corner out of sight only for Jacob to hear the doorbell ringing. “What the-”

  He began before looking at himself with wide eyes and realizing she likely thought him to be someone else. This gave Jacob an idea and he quickly hid the smile on his face as he opened the door with an appropriately puzzled expression on his face to find her standing there looking a little shy.

  “May I help you?” Jacob asked, his voice coming out completely unrecognizable as it was quite a bit deeper than normal.

  Blushing lightly, Hannah chewed her lip for a moment before answering. “H-Hi, my names Hannah. I live next door and I was just wondering if you could help me put some sunscreen on my back.”

  Jacob smiled kindly at her, “Well, that's a bold request. You don't even know me.” He smirked ever so slightly before adding, “But I suppose I could. For such a beautiful young woman. I'm Michael, by the way.” His voice and his speech seemed to roll out of his mouth in a persuasive, yet charming tone.

  She seemed to blush deeper and held out the sunscreen. He accepted it before offering her the house to come in while he applied the lotion. “Would you like to come in? I'm making some lunch so I'd rather not leave the stove.”

  “Alright, I could do that.” She replied before walking in, her bare feet slapping against the cold tiles.

  After she was seated at the small island on a bar stool he quickly checked on his cooking macaroni - giving it a quick stir before moving around behind her again as he grabbed the bottle of sunscreen. Once he had squirted a fair amount on his hand he started to rub and massage it into her shoulders and back. Soon it had turned into a light back massage under the subtext of sun screening and she had hung her head to rest her forehead on the countertop and was moaning pleasurably and softly.

  Having long since rubbed in all the sunscreen she could possibly need “Michael” was just massaging her shoulders now. One thing he had always been good at was giving massages - in fact, his mom often requested one after a particularly long day. As he massaged Hannah’s back, his mind was racing.