"I can't believe Logan, of all people, is going to the gym," Rob snickers after the wolverine squeezes out from the booth. His yellow eyes are dancing with glee as Logan waddles out the door. "Hey B, maybe you should follow him, make sure there aren't any buffets along the way."
Emma cocks a scaly brow. "Behave, Rob." Corey peers over his girlfriend's shoulder as Logan heads in the direction of Corey's gym. "Batsy, when are you gonna finally start a gym routine? It's a new year, man."
You flinch your wings. "Well, I'd like to, but time's tight. I got that session I'm working on at the studio tomorrow." One of the reasons you were back before class started was that you work as a freelance session musician to make ends meet. It wasn't glamorous work, it could be grueling, and some people were an outright pain in the ass to work with, but it was money, connections, and time in the recording room.
Rob reaches over and slaps your shoulder. "Aw, c'mon B, do it! Get swole!"
You role your eyes. "When's the last time you ever saw a swole bat, Rob?"
Corey instantly whips out his phone, typing something in. "Er...here we go! Check it. Could be you Batsy." He turns his phone to you, and a muscular hunk of fruit bat smiles back, smile curled alluringly over modest fangs. You have to admit, he's a fine specimen - big, well-proportioned and vascular. "He must have some awesome genetics."
Corey waves it off. "C'mon, it's more than genes. You could get pretty big, I bet. You'd be irresistible to the ladies."
"Yeah, then I can play hard to get like Rob over here," you quip. Truth is, as a musician who was good enough to be a fill-in at small live shows, you didn't have too much trouble, especially for a guy as physically uninspiring as thou. You weren't sought after, but you knew your way around a body.
Corey turns his attention to his roommate. "Speaking of which, Rob, you need to be more open-minded! All you ever say is 'she's not the right one','no thanks', 'not my type'."
Rob snorts. "Emma, bring one of your model friends over and I'll think about it." She shoots him a dirty look. "A little full of yourself, aren't you?"
The cougar flexes an arm, the muscles bulging nicely. "In the words of Sir Mix-A-Lot, 'Cause I'm long, and I'm strong, and I'm down to get the friction on'". You and Corey suppress a chuckle. Rob was an interesting guy. Off the cuff, he was a total bro-douche and looked the part. But he was actually a sweet and rather sensitive guy when you got past the facade.
He was also rumored to be well-endowed. The gay frilled lizard down the hall said so after seeing Rob sneak back to the room naked, a victim of a Logan's towel thievery.
Corey turns his attention back to you. "Still, I'm serious Batsy. Look, my brother's sending me some of the really premium supps he uses, I'm happy to share. C'mon, I know you can set aside some time for the gym." Ugh, this again. This was what bothered you about Corey. He was something of an overachiever - a bodybuilder, great grades, held down a job at a coffee shop, won video game tournaments - but he had this passive-aggressive way of condescending to others who didn't perform at his level. Logan was the only one who seemed able to knock him off his high horse. You know he means well, but it can be really obnoxious at times. Emma gives you a sympathetic look. She knows what it's like.
"Whoa, I just got this image of a huge Logan in my head," Rob muses jovially. Corey lights up as he swings his head, glasses nearly flying off. "Hey yeah! Wolverines make terrific powerlifters Rob. They're naturally muscular, they've been known to have intense bursts of strength...who knows man, could be the start of something."
Emma lays down her money and moves from the seat, blue scales shimmering in the fluorescent light. "You wish every one of your friends were huge, Corey," the skink says flatly. "I dunno if I could put up with Logan if he were a musclebound asshole. I mean, I can only tolerate him now because he's a short, chubby asshole."
You pull on your coat and pay your share, giggling at her sharp tongue. Despite her scales, she was snappier during winter. You figured it was irritation of the cold, and lethargy was held off by the new constant flow of hot fluid into her system. She liked to say the best part about Corey was that he made an awesome cup of joe.
As you walk back to the dorm, Rob's tail flicks, he wants something. "Cor, if you're sharing supps-"
"Bro, I totally got you covered," the musk deer replies in full-on douche dialect. The two high five. It's good they only did this with each other. They said "no homo" at least twice a day. Logan said "so homo" at least as much.
Which kinda brings you to another truth - your after-show flings were equal opportunity. You like chicks and dicks, always have. You've debated telling the guys, but there hasn't been a compelling reason.
You guys head into the hall, head up to the suite, and Corey pops in the Godfather. You throw some pillows down on the floor, giving your wings a chance to stretch as you lay atop them. For a little while, you forget about Logan and focus on the film - the colors, the foods, Marlon Brando's top-notch acting. You're at Vito Corleone's final scene in the garden when Logan gets back - if he was at the gym that whole time, it's been at least a few hours, there's no way.
But you smell him enter, body odor and the undeniable scent of his juice. You know it's those pills. "Take a shower!" You shout from the living room.
"Fuck you, B", Logan snarls, returning with a towel and set of clothes. In the bluish light of the TV, his body looks different. Not overly so, but he's rocking a pretty good pump, there really is muscle under all that fat. Hi gut and arm fur glisten with sweat, and even his moobs are starting to look a little like pecs.
By the time Logan gets back, the movie has wrapped up and you're retired to your shared bedroom. Rob's out, and Corey and Emma are just starting to do their thing, a few muffled groans and moans that will only get louder from here. You look up from your laptop as he enters the room, he looks thoroughly wiped.
"Batsy, bud, I dunno what got into me," Logan groans. "I did everything I could think of. Twice. I've never, ever done that before."
"It's those pills, Logan. You guys said Corey's brother and his boyfriend were huge, right? Well, the stuff must be some hormone shit. I didn't know they came in pill form, but it must be formulated to make you bust your ass at the gym."
"And bust my nuts," Logan growls. "Three times B. Shit had me hornier than Corey on rut. Speaking of which, hang on a sec." Logan turns around. "Will the blue-tailed skank please keep the moaning down!"
As the couple angrily shout back, he closes your door and turns back to you. "Anyway, I think it's outta my system now, but fuck man, I can see why those guys were so huge if that's what they were using. Do you know I spent twenty bucks on like, five protein shakes? And I drank them all, I was starving," he says while tearing into a chocolate granola bar.
"You shouldn't have lied to Corey, man. What if that stuff's not safe? You don't know what's in it, what side effects there are," you squeak.
"I'm fine, squeaks, calm the fuck down. Anyway, I'm tired. We'll talk about it in the morning." Logan turns in, and it has you thinking of doing the same, grabbing your bed cloak and heading to your pole in the closet. You could sleep in beds, but they weren't comfortable because your wings were easily pinched or bent the wrong way. Thankfully, you were able to get the closet, and a wardrobe in what the school called a "special accommodation".
But as you change into your night clothes, you look at the bottle of pills tucked away on the dresser, right above Logan's triple-bagged semen-soaked khakis. To say you're a little concerned is a bit of an understatement at this point. You'd like to make sure they're safe, especially if Logan decides to use them again.
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