Bottoms Up

By Lurker16

"Here'sta another year as room-mates," Bruce said, pinging a beer open on the edge of the table.

"Heh. Yeah. Room-mates." Malu raised a plastic cup and tapped Bruce's bottle. The straw of his _Tequila Sunrise_cocktail swooned.

Bruce took a gulp and flicked through messages on his phone. "Think you'll get a girlfriend this year?" In two mouthfuls, the bottle was empty. He clattered it down with the other empties.

Ah. The girlfriend question. Malu nursed his drink and scrolled through the categories on Netflix. If he ignored it, maybe he would let it go. His whiskers twitched and his ears angled sideways.

One downside of being a hare was how visibly his emotions betrayed him. When he was sad, his ears went limp. When embarrassed, they turned away. When he thought of Bruce...

They stood tall, curling forward at the tip. His feet thumped against the laminate flooring. A glance of the stallion's pert ass as he grabbed another beer from the kitchen was enough to swell the chub between Malu's legs.

Fuck.

He wanted what he had: the confidence, the stamina, the vascular musculature of a Grade-A Alpha. He wanted to care for him. To _own_him. Bend him over the coffee table and make him beg to be bred, each thrust cementing the truth that Malu was the best lay of his life.

But Malu was a hare, and Bruce was a draft horse. Someone as built and extroverted as Bruce would never submit to a geek like Malu. Excluding his ears, Malu stood 148 centimetres tall-the exact height of Bruce's crotch--and boy did he like to tease him about it. Bruce was, what, 280 centimetres? 290? 300? Each metre multiplied the absurdity.

Malu clenched the TV remote in a paw. Even more ridiculous was the package between his legs. One of Bruce's past girlfriends had insisted it was "at least fifteen inches." Malu guessed the actual figure was somewhere around twenty. It bulged under his pyjama trousers to stop just shy of his knee. As he stumbled back into the living room, it nearly smacked the door-frame. It outranked Malu's five inches even while flaccid.

Unclothed, it was unreal. He'd seen it-mostly, anyway-four times in the past three months. When Bruce was drunk enough, he'd strip to his boxers and lay in bed exposed. Malu would watch from across the room while pretending to sleep as Bruce drifted off for the night. Bruce's balls, larger than both of Malu's fists combined, would droop. They were heavy enough to dangle from the leg of his underwear. Taunting Malu. Defying him.

You should be mine.

Malu downed the rest of his drink and frowned. His erection throbbed against his trousers: an unremarkable bump in its fabric. In his mind, he recalled the length of Bruce's cock sprawling beyond the top of his waistband. How the faint blue light from the router in the room's corner highlighted its veins. The way his flare dragged along his abs while it erected, passing his belly button and pulsating near his ribcage.

You will be mine.

"Girlfriend?" Bruce asked again, waving a hand in front of Malu's glasses.

Malu sighed. He avoided looking directly at the girth swaying before him. "It's complicated."

"You're complicated," Bruce quipped back, throwing himself face-down on the sofa. His pyjamas clung to the crack of his ass and stressed the curves of his thighs. He grumbled, wrestling a cushion against his face. "Y'already know I'm bi," he said, muffled, "So why can't you just... admit that you're-?"

Bottles rattled as Malu dropped his plastic cup. He hid behind the russet fur of his forearms, which barely concealed his shock. The lighter tones of khaki around his chin and underbelly were scarlet beneath the fur.

"Admit what?" he barked at Bruce's ass. His amber eyes were wet.

Bruce lay there, sinking into the sofa. Without the cream-coloured accents of his mane and underarms, his hazel fur would have camouflaged within it.

"I didn't hear what you said," Malu said, composing himself. He swatted the calves protruding from the back of Bruce's legs. "How many have you had?"

"More than you, lightweight," Bruce said into the pillow. He sat up, putting on a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm just getting started." He chucked his phone onto the table. "You know Melissa?"

Malu nodded, forcing his ears and whiskers into a more neutral expression.

"Says she just wants to be friends. Says being bi isn't real either." His smile drooped at the edges. He looked to Malu. "I really know how to choose 'em."

You big goofy idiot... I told you she was using you.

Malu's ears drooped toward him. He wanted to reach out, touch his shoulder and say he wanted him. He wished he could hold him, stroke his fingers through his mane and whisper that he deserved so much better, before pushing his tongue between Bruce's thick lips to claim his mouth and tell him he would love him forever.

But he couldn't. Not like this. Not while he was a nerdy twig of a hare. Not while Bruce was an Adonis.

For weeks, he had mulled over the quandaries of offering Bruce a potion. Was it ethical? The website had said so. No effect would take place unless willing participants consumed the potion, even if the consent was unspoken. Would Bruce have believed him if he told him beforehand? Maybe; though he was more likely to laugh. Every outcome had played through his mind: from success to failure, romance to tragedy, to mundanity. A large part of his conscience told him this is what he had to do-to be happy, or at least happier. Together. He had the strength to take this step, for both of them, and the heart to bear the consequence no matter what. Without further dosage, effects would only last three weeks. But if it sparked joy between them... well, they could keep drinking for as long as they desired. He already had enough to last them the first month.

He punched Bruce playfully on the shoulder. His teeth grit together for confidence. "I know how hard things can be. Relationships. Feelings--" his voice dipped "--Sexuality. Things will be alright. Maybe not now, but soon. Things'll get better. I promise. For both of us."

"Thanks, man."

"I wasn't sure if we should, but I got a new beer for us to try. An actual change. I'll try it too. How about we put on some shitty shows and forget about the bad stuff?"

Bruce smiled thoughtfully. He head-butted Malu's kneecaps. "Yes please."

With a hop from couch to floor, Malu helped him wobble back to his feet. He returned the favour by bopping him back on the shoulder, almost knocking him sideways. He tore away the cardboard around the crate before Malu could catch up.

Bruce turned a bottle to examine its label. The words _Vrai Moi_were printed across it, presumably the brand. A cyan-magenta gradient transitioned behind the text, decorated with a spiral of each colour that met beneath the name to form a helix. The glass was clear. So was the liquid. If Malu hadn't ordered it himself, he would have assumed the potion to be regular booze. Bruce tried to wedge it open on the table, before realizing it had a screw-top. It fizzed when opened, reminding him more of an alcopop than a beer.

He raised his brows and snickered, turning to Malu. "I thought you said beer, not lemonade."

Malu shook his head and yanked another from the box. "It is. You'll have no problem finishing the lot tonight then." He twisted it open and held it under Bruce's snout. The fragrance of mixed berries tickled his nose.

"Mmm," Bruce said, "Fruity. Just like you."

"You wish." Malu shoved him toward the living room-a gesture that displaced Malu more than him.

With two fingers, Bruce hooked the crate of booze and hauled it back to the couch. They sat beside one another, closer than before. The television played a movie about guns and tits.

It was hard being a draft horse, Bruce thought. People had expectations. He tipped back a bottle of Vrai Moi and slid his lips down its neck. They always wanted a performance from him. Felt entitled to use parts of him. But nobody ever wanted him for him.

He observed Malu, who held his beer with two hands and watched the movie with interest. The dork was probably devising theories about the movie's themes, or internally debating whether the use of nudity was in fact an intentional choice to make a political statement; something really smart, and probably right. Crucially, though, Malu was interested because it was Bruce who had chosen it.

Malu always listened. Back in college, when the football, basketball and swimming team hounded Bruce to compete, Malu took the time to hear out his problems and propose solutions. Bruce never admitted it, but all he wanted was to play netball. He couldn't tell him-or anyone. A guy like him? Playing netball? It would have been hilarious enough to make the local news.

So Bruce performed. He partied. He sent photos of his dick to chicks who bombarded him with messages because they "just had to" see it. They would tell their friends. It was easier to do than not to do: the path of least resistance. The ex-girlfriends racked up if the relationships even got that far, and all the while Malu listened.

Each Saturday, they drank and chilled. It was an opportunity to share what was on their minds, even if talking about feelings was hard. Bruce would be safe. Comfortable. They would poke fun at one another, but he would feel _close_to Malu.

There was something about the little hare that made him happy. An intensity behind his eyes. A determination and drive in everything he did made Bruce feel everything was going to be okay.

Their physiques couldn't be more different. Mentally, they were opposites. Opposites attracted though-at least that's what he hoped. For every trophy slung in the air to a cheering crowd, a sleepless night followed where Bruce clung to his pillow. For every wolf-whistle, a repressed desire. On the loneliest days, he laid in bed with his back to the wall, imagining it was Malu pressed up against him.

He would deny it with a straight face, but he thought about their beds being pushed together at night. He dreamt of the warmth he'd feel in his chest when Malu spooned him from behind. Alone, he fantasised about his best buddy pulling down his underwear, pushing him forwards and going to town on his ass.

If only.

"You're drunk. Aren't you?" Malu teased, losing balance as he spoke. His voice lightened in pitch; he was too tipsy to deepen it.

Bruce feigned disbelief. He crossed one leg to hide his erection behind a thigh. "On lemonade? Pffffah."

"Seven bottles of 'lemonade.'" He pointed to the train of empty containers leaning against the edge of the couch. "I've only had two!"

"What can I say?" He booped Malu's nose. "I'm a horse."

"Yeah," Malu said, his voice trailing off, "You are."

They sat quietly. A mini-gun whirred from the TV. Bruce grabbed two of the last three bottles of _Vrai Moi_for himself and handed the third to Malu. He guzzled them both at once, reassured by their raspberry bubbles.

I just wish I was your horse...

***

"D'you have any more of that Vraymer or whatever it's called?" Bruce yelled from inside the fridge. "The fruity stuff."

"The_Vrai Moi_?" Malu replied.

A week had passed since their heart-to-heart. Malu rubbed his feet together, thinking. The site he bought it from said additional doses may be required, especially if substantial changes were needed. He had been wondering how to offer more of it to Bruce, but it was already on his mind.

"I figured you'd come begging for more," Malu said, pacing toward his voice. Cupboards opened and closed in sequence. "I've still got a few crates. It's expensive, but it's worth it-especially if it appeals to your primitive palette. Try looking under the sink."

Bruce kneed closed the drawer he was searching and pivoted to the sink. He bent over. His buttocks spread the cartoon hay bales on his blue pyjama bottoms. Each mound pushed outwards, the product of decades of athletic performance. Glutes galore presented themselves.

You tease, Malu thought.

Malu obscured his lower half behind the door frame. A hard-on thumped between his legs. He rocked his shaft against the wall, studying the circumference of Bruce's entrance.

How can an ass like that not need bred?

He huffed. It could have been the lighting, but Bruce's rear seemed different. Soft curves rose from his thighs and held to his hips. The muscle beneath them tensed, angular as always, only now a bed of jiggling tissue complemented them. The rim of his ass was plump enough to put a bagel to shame. It pushed against his pyjamas, engorging beyond its usual proportions. Every few seconds it twitched, swallowing a dimple of fabric to form a wedgie.

Malu whistled low and slow. "I knew you were a stallion, but damn. That's an ass."

The underside of the sink collided with Bruce's head as he spun around. He winced, rubbing above his mane. A hand covered the growing bulge of his front. He looked to the floor, averting eye contact.

"Are you blushing?" Malu said. He couldn't believe it. Surely not.

"No, dummy," Bruce said quietly, "I just walloped my head." He shuffled past into the living room, planting the crate on the middle sofa cushion. "So, uh. How do you pronounce it again? You're better with words than me."

"Vrai Moi," Malu said, heaving the bottles over to the table. He sat down and shuffled closer. "It means 'True Me.'"

"Ha." Bruce opened his mouth as if to add something, but stopped.

"I know it's not as heavy as the usual horse-piss you drink, but you didn't have any problem demolishing most of them last week." Malu handed him a bottle.

"They're quite refreshing, actually," Bruce said. "No hangover either. And hey, at least it's harder than the 'drinks' you sip all night."

Malu nudged his leg. He spoke between mouthfuls. "I don't know what your problem is with cocktails. They've got higher proof than most of what you drink and taste infinitely better." He scowled playfully. "I am a fan of our new stuff, though. Goes down smoother than expected."

"Yes, indeed," Bruce said, faking the falsetto of a scientist.

"You're such a bitch." My bitch, Malu thought. He tossed the television remote over and clanged their bottles together. "To meeting in the middle?"

"To meeting in the middle," Bruce said.

"Cheers."

They worked through the alcohol at their respective paces, though Malu drank faster and Bruce drank slower than the week before. Bruce shimmied through the movie categories. Malu leaned back, spreading his knees until their legs rested against one another.

They sat for a while, saying nothing and listening to the other breathe. The warmth of skin on skin was divine. It was a nebulous gesture made by such an insignificant body part, yet it meant everything.

"Hey, Malu?"

"Hm?"

"I've, uh, been thinking about changing our living sitch up a bit-if it was okay with you, I mean," Bruce said. He masked his anxiety with the bottle.

"Oh." Malu's ears lowered to half-height. "Well, if the room's too small I could probably fit in the closet, though it'd be a bit of a struggle. It should give you more space, at least. Sorry, I"-

"No, no no!" Bruce shook his head quickly, waving his arms and splashing beer on his pyjamas, "I meant we could redecorate and paint and maybe get some new furniture, so we had extra storage space for your Uni books and my clothes and stuff." His eyes were wide and damp with guilt. "I never wanna not share a room with you."

Malu looked at him. Their height difference was less pronounced when they were sitting. One ear tilted to the side. Then the other. His nose twitched, and both ears angled toward Bruce. He waited for him to retract part of his statement, or justify it with something that diminished the feeling of hope in his chest, but he didn't.

"You mean it," Malu said. His voice sunk into mid-range pitch, deepened by emotion.

Bruce rubbed his eyes with one hand, sighing. "I... Well, course I do."

They both exhaled slowly. Thoughtfully, they glugged their drinks. A trailer for a horror series played in the background. Bruce gauged Malu's expression, leg shaking nervously. Malu gazed into his eyes, seeing-for the first time-vulnerabilities that he always knew were there.

"I feel the same way," Malu said. He smiled. Some tension from Bruce's muscles loosened. "You're my best... Horse." Panic squirmed across his face as he searched for a word other than 'friend.'

"Heh. Heheh." Bruce giggled, voice higher than his usual chortles. He rubbed his eyes again and leaned back into the couch. "You're gonna make me cry like a girl, you stupid nerd. What the hell's in this, anyway?" He opened another drink. "Am I drunk already? Did you roofie me!?"

It was Malu's turn to laugh this time, shuffling in until their hips pressed together. "Something like that. These beers are literally magic; they're potions. I thought you were going to say you wanted your own room. You scared the life out of me. I mean, what if a burglar broke in, and I couldn't protect you?" Bruce rolled his eyes. "Or if there was a fire, and your shoulders were so wide you got stuck in the doorway and couldn't escape? Or if you were wasted, and didn't know where you were, and started wandering around trying to make toast in the bath."

"That was a good night."

"For you, maybe. You forgot the part where you threw up over the side of my bed and I had to rub your back and bring you water until you felt better."

"What?" Bruce said, "That can't be right."

"I kid you not." Malu rubbed his shin against Bruce's hamstring. "You took up at least 200 percent of my bed, too. My spine should sue you for damages."

"I_slept_in your bed?"

"Yup."

"And you slept in mine?"

Malu hesitated. "Nope."

"The floor?" Bruce said nervously.

"Negative."

"Damn. Wish I was sober enough to... sleep in my own bed."

"It was no problem. Got a bit weird when you started talking in your sleep and telling me to 'text Malu to let him know I'm safe' though."

Bruce froze. "Wow. I really did that, huh." He looked to his lap, where their legs met. "I would never want you to worry."

Malu slid an arm around the middle of his back, as far as he could reach, and pulled him closer. "I don't _worry_about you Bruce. I _care_about you."

Leaning into him, Bruce sighed. He slouched down to nestle the side of his face against the top of his head. "I care about you too," he said weakly.

"Next you'll be telling me pigs are flying," Malu said, feigning a gasp.

"Heh. Actually, I did know this one gryphon-pig hybrid dude who played goalie for a soccer team I had to try out for."

"Seriously?" Malu wrinkled his nose at him, slapping a hand down on Bruce's thigh.

"Bahaha, no, I'm just messing with you." Bruce patted the back of Malu's hand, holding it against his leg.

Their fingers interlinked. Malu spun his hand around to hold Bruce's. His fingers traipsed over the firm, not-quite-calloused bumps and lines of his palm.

"For that, you can choose what movie to watch," Malu said.

"Agh!" Bruce butted his head against Malu's shoulder. "Great, we'll be here forever." He began sorting through genres and categories, edging his toes under Malu's furred soles. "Last week was such a bro one. This week we could, hmm. Yeah."

"Any time today, sweetheart."

Bruce scrolled sideways, refusing to show how flustered he had become. "There. The opposite of a bro movie."

"A rom-com?" Malu teased, "Really?"

Bruce blushed, fidgeting with his snout. "I just thought it might be nice for a change." He twirled his toes together. "It's no biggie if you don't wanna."

"What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing!" Bruce said quickly.

"Hmm." Malu narrowed his eyes at him. "You have been quite quiet lately. Going out of the house a lot. Getting early nights. Maybe I should be asking: _who's_gotten into you?"

The pinkness of Bruce's cheeks was obvious. No matter how hard he avoided eye contact, Malu realized his guess was bang-on. He peeled the label off his beer bottle.

"Whaddya mean? Nobody's been... in me..." Bruce's voice drifted off.

This time Malu blushed. Normally Bruce would've laughed the suggestion off and rhymed off the names of his ex-girlfriends and how they all rated him a solid nine-point-one out of ten in the sack. He tried to think of something to say.

"They're very kind," Bruce admitted. "Not my usual type-at least not what you'd expect, anyway."

Malu squeezed Bruce's hand without realizing, teetering between thrill and terror.

"They're good-like, really good, you know? Reliable. Smart," Bruce said. His gaze drifted to his lap, then to the hand being held by Malu. "I don't think I could imagine my future without them, I mean, I could, if they needed me to, but like I kinda... don't _want_to? Secretly?" He saw Malu nod in his periphery. Bruce's eyes grew wet. He blinked hard. "I feel like I could tell them anything. But there's some things I just can't."

Soft fingers stroked over Bruce's cheek. He clenched his eyes closed. Malu cleared a teardrop away with the back of one finger, tidied the stray hairs of his mane from his cheek, and cupped his chin. He guided Bruce to face him.

"Have you ever kissed a guy?" Malu asked.

"N-n..." Bruce shook his head, staying within Malu's touch.

Malu swallowed. He licked his own lips. As he spoke, his voice shuddered low. The question was raw. "Would you like to?"

No words. Only a nod.

They breathed heavily together, entranced by each other's eyes. Malu's irises were crystal. Their sapphire lattices promised strength. Bruce's eyes were chocolate brown. The longer they held eye contact, the softer they melted.

Malu dragged their clasped hands up Bruce's thigh. Hardness twitched against his thumb. He reached out to it, carefully, as if Bruce could break at any moment, and massaged circles on its side. Malu beckoned his snout with his fingers, tugging invisible reins.

Bruce bowed down. He bit his lip, intensely aware of the erect nub thrumming between Malu's legs, and whimpered. His arms trembled. His legs vibrated. His lips opened, just enough to surrender to gravity-to the magnetic pull of Malu's guiding fingers.

He tasted Malu's breath. It swirled inside him, fruity and intoxicating like the drinks they shared. Malu's ears angled forward with each approaching inch. His scent grew stronger, diminishing Bruce's natural musk to a muted perfume.

"Please," Bruce mouthed.

"Mine," Malu breathed back, bringing their lips together. His tongue stroked along his lower lip. He approached delicately, acclimating Bruce's mouth to the sweet taste of his saliva one lick at a time. Bruce sat dumbfounded. A hand smoothed over his jaw, up to his cheeks, and wrapped around the back of his neck. It tugged him in deeper. He tilted his head. Malu followed suit. His snout roved against Malu's lips, hungry for the angle that allowed most of him inside.

Bruce's lips were hot and hard. As Malu's brushed over them, they softened. With a playful suck, they swelled as if plumped with filler.

He growled inside Bruce. Every repressed feeling slid against his tongue, twirled between their taste buds and channelled through their lips. In unique ways, they made love with their mouths: Bruce, tenderly; Malu, passionately. Saliva traded back and forth. Words unspoken lapped inside.

Like a melting pot, their sentiments melded together. Aspects of their physical form exchanged and equalized. Malu's shirt strained, tested by the growth of pectoral muscles below. His thighs ground against the softer surface of Bruce's, bolstered by mass of unknown origin. He gripped Bruce's hand until it went limp, forced to grope over the bulge in his pyjamas at Malu's behest.

It stiffened, hardening with need. Yet it shied away from Malu's massage. Where it would normally reach down to his knee, it now thumped two inches short. Malu spied it as he broke for air. He tugged it, as sensually as he could, to make sure it wasn't just the angle they sat at. The flared bulge of Bruce's cock shivered, but rather than stretching out to its usual absurd proportions, it retreated just a little further.

No way. It couldn't... I shouldn't... But Malu had to know: was Bruce getting smaller?

He pushed him back on the sofa. Bruce slid backwards with less resistance than expected. Malu was back to making out with him, twirling his tongue inside as he'd read in romance novels. This time, his eyes leered downwards to his crotch. He squeezed the base of Bruce's endowment with five fingers, milking from him a high-pitched nicker. It was solid. It tried to slap against his hand as if it were a mare. Malu pulled his hand away, running it over his own ears. Pulse after pulse, the godly girth of Bruce's cock narrowed-just enough for him to notice. A line of pre-cum marked the retreat of its size, staining his pyjamas with a dark line that approached his crotch in reverse.

"Bruce," he panted, stroking both hands over Bruce's softening jawline, "I think something's happening."

Bruce's eyelids fluttered. It could have been moisture, but extra length adorned his eyelashes, and they hugged into thicker strands. "I," his voice cracked, returning a tone higher, "I know." His eyes were wide.

"Look between your legs," Malu said.

"Under your shirt," Bruce said, pointing.

It was hard to miss the bumps of muscle adorning Malu's chest. He patted them. Poked them. Flexed them. As he ran his hands further south, across a new face of abdominal definition, his hand bumped into something above his waistband. He groaned.

He'd always dreamed of being hung, like one of those guys in porn whose cock reached past their navel when they lay on their back. He could fantasise, slide his pecker into a more ample-sized wearable cock sleeve to masturbate, but never could he do this. With the help of a stronger pelvic floor, he flexed his cock with Kegels, curving the tight bulge of his pants upwards and outwards. No more a nub. No longer a disappointment. He palmed the underside of it, laughing giddily to himself as his fingers misjudged his thickness and he had to adjust. He brushed along it, checking he could feel it all the way. His thigh shuffled against Bruce's. His shoulder bumped into him. Just touching him, touching himself, was enough to spur more growth.

The urge to pull down his waistband and gauge his new real-estate played on his mind, but he first tugged Bruce by the hair for another kiss. As he worked a hand down his neck to his torso, the usual hardness of Bruce's oblique muscles was absent. Malu cupped his chest until he moaned into his mouth. Pectorals still lived there, beneath their usual home, but it was more of a dancer's build than bulk. It held close to his chest, swelling out to become two soft, oval pecs. Bruce tried to flex them, as he would usually do to the beat of any song he liked, but all he got was a sorry jiggle in response.

Their hands ventured over one another. Bruce's wrists slid over Malu's trapezius muscles, which connected his neck and shoulders like a tied rope. The longer he touched, the daintier his fingers became. They were the soft bristles of a paintbrush, accenting Malu's body with volume. Bruce considered him, both the old and the new, and shook his mane from side to side. Blonde hair bundled over his shoulders. The more he looked at the man he craved, the longer it grew, glossing down to his breast.

Malu combed a hand through it. He marvelled at its sleekness. The mane radiated beauty, framing Bruce's face as though it had been there all along. He stroked Bruce's temples with two fingers on each side. Spirals of relaxation eased around Bruce's scalp. Malu's palms fussed over his hair, massaging with a blacksmith's dexterity.

For every feminine tweak to Bruce's body, an equal outpouring of testosterone fired through Malu's system. The fur of his chest and underarms thickened, grizzled with outbursts of coarser hair. It spread down the back of his arms and fingertips, mirrored by his legs and toes, until completing itself with a treasure trail of khaki fur that guided Bruce's eyes from navel to crotch.

"Will it ever stop?" Bruce said.

Malu tilted an ear and tugged at a weakened seam around his arm. The body of his shirt tore clean off. Grooves of fresh muscle displayed like confectionery. "I hope not."

"Me neither. I wanna go all the way. With you, I mean, and... with this-" he waved a hand between their bodies "-as far as it lets us." Bruce squirmed, the voice of his insecurities slipping past his mental filter. "I need to."

"Shh." Malu smiled. "I'm here." Bruce loosened at his words. "I'm here with you. For you. Forever."

"I think I love you," Bruce blurted.

"I know I love you," Malu said. He approached slowly, planting a loud smooch on his cheek. "Take your shirt off."

Short of words to stumble over, Bruce crossed his arms and pulled his shirt up from the waist. "Yes, Si-.... Sir." He hid beneath his shirt as his underbelly blushed scarlet.

"Yes?"

"Sir," Bruce tried again, slowly. The word lingered on his lips. It tingled in his mouth. He didn't know where it came from, but he wanted it to stay.

"Go on, babe."

"Yessir," he repeated, more confidently this time, bundling his shirt on the floor.

"That's my girl."

Girl. The word sent a pang between Bruce's legs, stealing away another blissful half-inch.

"Do you want to see it?" Bruce said.

"What's left of it, you mean." Malu snickered, teasing a finger under Bruce's waistband. "Same time? You do me, I do you." He slid his other hand under to join it.

"Please. Sir." Bruce leaned over, pinching both sides of Malu's strained pants. They both raised their hips.

"On three," Malu said. "One. Two. Three!"

Bruce's bottoms fell easily. It was a struggle with his improved proportions, but Malu's pants joined them soon after. They appraised each others' naked body. Disbelief and wonder held their breath. Their hands rested on each other's thighs as they bundled sideways to gawk.

"You really are smaller than you used to be," Malu said. He pushed back the rim of his glasses and blinked to refocus. "You are. Look at you. You're tiny."

Bruce's cock twitched from the attention. It throbbed at an adequate-but not so impressive-twelve inches. For an equine, he was easily below average. The medial ring hugged its middle weakly, out of place on such a petite cock.

"And you're... huge," Bruce said. His voice cracked again. He cleared his throat and rubbed the front of his Adam's apple. It receded beneath the fur of his neck. Without thinking, he traced around its remaining circumference. It was less of an apple, more of a grape. It shrunk to be flush with his skin. He shivered, cock trembling. "Oh my God, Malu," he squealed, a softness entering his tone. "I never thought... I've only ever dreamed-"

"Stand up," Malu said. A timbre of command reinforced his words. "Let me see you." His voice was coarse, as if it were dry. The more he spoke, the deeper it rumbled, rising from lower in his chest. "You're so fucking hot."

Bruce huffed. Malu had never spoken to him this way. Goose-pimples buzzed over his body. He rose gracefully, the cleft of his buttocks smooth and deep. He held an arm over his chest as if to protect his modesty. "Here I am." The usual tufts of pubic fur around his crotch softened. They faded from dark brown to a creamy blonde that matched his underbelly. His balls, so often described by ex-girlfriends with explosive sound effects and hand gestures, tucked cutely under his shaft.

"Breathtaking," Malu said. He stroked himself slowly, cock edging ever-higher. A thick vein protruded along the top of its shaft. He wore it like a medal. "This is for you. It's all for you. Always was." He spread his legs, thudding two balls against the couch.

In their slack Bruce saw no weakness; thick skin cradled them, strong like leather. Each testicle draped across the cushion like a marble paperweight. It was intimidating enough to make his balls cling to his taint. The wobble of his legs said more than his mouth could.

"Give us a twirl."

Bruce obeyed, rotating slowly while fidgeting with his hair. A permanent shade of embarrassment painted his face. Malu saw just how much his cock had receded. Although twelve inches was nothing to scoff at for most species, a stallion with a small pecker was entrancing. It drooped and swayed, accepting the gravity of its situation.

"Mm-mmm," Malu hummed. He reclined and kicked away their underwear. "I can't believe we kept this a secret." He sighed, working through another bottle of _Vrai Moi_with large gulps. The potion's effects were beyond expectation. He needed more. "You've always had a sweet ass, but how can I say no to that?"

The rough hair of Bruce's tail swept to the side. Vanilla highlights sprouted through it, one after the other. The more he showed off, the lighter it became. He leaned forward and wiggled his rear from side to side, putting on a show for Malu. By the time he finished, his tail shone like honey and Malu's glans gleamed with pre.

"Maybe you should say 'yes' to it," Bruce said. The pucker of his hole tensed and relaxed, switching between apprehension and invitation. He whined, spinning to face Malu. "I don't know if I can take being apart from you anymore. Do you know how long I've... You know, ever since I met you, and then those first nights we moved in together. God, I can't even think. I'm ruining this, aren't I?" He swatted his mane to the side and sat back down. Malu rubbed over his back. "You're the only guy... only actual person, ever, who I've felt like spending the rest of my life with, is what I mean to say. Does that make sense? My body's throbbing and I know the drinks are changing us but what I'm trying to say is I think I loved you for a long time Malu. I'm sorry I've been too much coward to say it."

Malu scritched circles up his neck. It was easier to reach than usual. He slid an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. "I've been scared too," he said. Bruce exhaled, sinking into his side. "For the longest time, I've been too afraid to ruin what we had and risk losing you. I think, more than that though, I was scared you'd get a grad job, or I'd finish my PhD and we'd move away from each other. Different states. Different countries. I don't know if I could go back to sleeping in a room by myself." He stroked through Bruce's hair. "Did you know I spoon a pillow at night?"

Bruce hugged down him until he laid across his lap. He giggled. "Yeah. It's hella cute. Especially when you're dreaming and your hips start going." Malu's cock throbbed against his side and made him laugh again.

"I imagine it's you. All I've ever wanted since I realized how I felt about you, is to hold you. Make you happy."

"You do make me happy," Bruce said, "And you're holding me right now."

"Maybe I could hold you in bed after the movie," Malu said.

Bruce nuzzled his thigh. "If you still fit in it. But I hope you'd do a load more than just hold me... _If_you still fit." His cock teetered in the air, tenting eleven and a half inches above his hips.

"There's that sense of humour," Malu chuckled, traipsing a hand down his chest. "Who's the dork now?"

"Thank you, thank you. I also do weddings."

Malu kissed him to shut him up, before turning Bruce's face to the screen.

They cuddled for what felt like forever, yet it could never be enough. Tugs and strokes made the perfect treat to indulge in throughout the movie. As the credits rolled, Malu lifted Bruce to his feet and hugged him from behind.

40 centimetres of complementary height offered greater access to Bruce's narrow back. Malu smooched from his new vantage point. His nine-inch cock, almost twice the size of a normal hare's, nestled between Bruce's cheeks. They waddled to the bedroom.

Despite swinging free and hard, Bruce's cock came nowhere close to slapping the door-frame. Malu gripped around his waist, kneading a layer of fat above his abs. He nickered softly. For the first time since he was seventeen, Bruce's head was over half a metre clear from the top of a door. His legs, his neck-maybe even his back and face-had contracted a cumulative 60 centimetres. He still stood taller than Malu, but the difference was less an obstacle, more an enticement.

"I think it's about time I put you in your place," Malu said. He twirled a finger around Bruce's ear.

"Rrnhh. Yes." Bruce reached for a lamp but fumbled the switch. It toppled sideways.

Malu threw his glasses beside it. With a push, Bruce bent over the side of his bed, gripping the edge of the mattress. The underside of Malu's shaft rode against his hole.

"I used the last of my condoms wanking over you while you slept last week," Malu bragged.

Bruce huffed, arcing his rear for better access. "Doubt you'd even fit in them, anyway. I don't even know if you'll fit in me, but-"

"Butt." Malu slapped both of his ass-cheeks, gripping around them roughly.

He stuttered, eventually forming a coherent sentence. "I want you to... finish in me." He shuddered at his confession, leaking pre-cum over Malu's bed covers. "I need you to breed me. More than anything. Make me yours and fill me with your foals-your hares-fuck, please Sir, just break me." He thrust back and forth, desperate to slide himself onto Malu's dick. Throbbing veins and a swollen cock-head teased against his hole. "Impregnate me like the" - he whimpered the word, so ashamed yet so sure - "_bottom_bitch I am."

"You'll never need another man again," Malu declared. He spread his rear, glossing his entrance with pre-cum.

"Never," Bruce moaned.

"Never want a woman," Malu said, "Or a toy, or your hand. Only me." His glans circled the inner rim of Bruce's hole, dipping closer to the centre with each rotation.

"It wouldn't be the same. Wouldn't be you," Bruce confessed. He tensed, desperate to secure his stud in place. "I don't think I can cum without you anymore."

"And I'll save every drop of seed for my pretty little breeding pony."

Malu took the position, swirling one last time over Bruce's rear. His cock pressed against its bullseye. He gripped it with one hand. The other pinned down the back of Bruce's neck.

"I can feel..." Bruce groaned, silenced by the wet slurp of Malu's tip beyond his rim. "Fff-uuhhh." His face sunk into the bed and his ass raised higher. He was putty. The primal up-twitch of Malu's length responded to his tightness, hosing down its path with natural lubricant. "All of it," he squeaked, "I need it all."

"I need you too, babe," Malu said. Despite his gruffness, the affection in his words was clear. "You're my best friend." He slid forwards. "My bro." Deeper. "Honestly, if I hadn't met you that day, I don't know how things would have turned out." Each confession brought him closer to uniting with Bruce's prostate. Bruce's walls hugged around him. "I've never loved anyone like I love you. I always thought I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance. But this..." He closed his eyes, caressing Bruce's pre-slicked buttocks. He breathed, focusing on the embrace of his lover's rump. Trembles and throbs exchanged like dynamite. "Now we can... Well... Will you be my boyfriend?" He opened his eyes. Ten inches sheathed inside Bruce. The muscles of his groin pressed flush against his ass. His balls draped over his taint to kiss against the back of their previous home, five times the circumference of their lesser counterparts. The further their love-making advanced, the more size Malu siphoned away.

"Yes! Yes. Yes yes yes," Bruce said, wobbling. Malu steadied his hips. "I'll be your boyfriend. I'm yours. Always was, even if I didn't realize it." Pelvic floor muscles flexed in tandem to suck on his cock. "Malu. It's okay. I can take it." He swayed a couple of inches forwards, before swallowing the length back inside. A pang of bliss made him crumple. He clasped a hand over his mouth. "Mmh-Go wild, Sir. Show me what a-hh real stallion is made of."

A stallion. Malu truly felt like a stallion at heart, even if his hare feet thumped against the floor. And Bruce, his boyfriend, had the heart and soul of a bimbo breeding bunny, even if his exterior was equine.

Malu retreated half of himself, dripping from Bruce's heat, before bucking back into place.

"A-ahhrrr."

"Rrrrngh."

It was too good to stop. Tight like a condom, yet softer than a sponge, tugging and milking with all the force peristalsis would permit. He pulled back, savouring Bruce's squirms as the head of his cock met with his ass from the inside. His glans bulged underneath, testing the glossy black ring for uncertainty. It held tight, save for a hungry tremble.

Malu's hips slammed harder than intended. Bruce's head bumped against the wall, buffered by a pillow. He grasped it in his teeth, tearing and mewling. Pleasure rippled through his ass. His eyes rolled and settled into a bed of heavy-lidded lust.

Another retreat. This one with a tug of Bruce's mane. His ass tried to hold him inside, but Malu's cock parted from it. A wire of pre-cum connected them, barely thinning before he shunted back inside.

By now, Malu figured he had acclimated Bruce to his girth, but he moaned louder. He felt it too: the tightness. The power in his throbs. He reached around Bruce's crotch, patting. It took a few seconds to find, but when he did, he scoffed. It must have been a mistake. Some other body part, maybe. A finger. A thumb. Malu squeezed it, and it pulsed weakly back.

No. Way.

Enough liquid drenched it to make a pussy jealous. It was hard, probably, if Bruce's warbling was anything to go by. Malu cradled its seven inches in a hand, balls resting at his wrist, flare poking just beyond his fingertips.

Hah. Hahahah. You are... adorable.

But if Bruce had shrunk this much, then Malu must have grown in response. His loins gyrated, rallying in tempo. Out and in. Out and in. On the forward stroke, his ears towered over Bruce. He was still far from being anywhere near his height, but he could bite down on Bruce's shoulder with the angle and momentum of their rut, marking him as his own. He indulged every new centimetre of sex organ, pulling out a shaft as hard as his abs.

"I don't think I can last much longer," Bruce whimpered into a pillow.

Malu glided his tip in, jolting him upright. "Already? You haven't even touched yourself."

"I_know_," Bruce shouted before quieting, "Nothing's felt like this before. If we keep going, I don't even know if I'll ever change back."

"And your point is?" Malu said, smirking. Although slower, he nailed Bruce's g-spot, knocking the breath from him. "You'll finally get to feel your belly swell for me. Feel your dick just... slip away. One orgasm, then another, pumping you full of the finest seed on the planet." The struggle of Bruce's ass to contain him was a thrill by itself. When would he hit his limit? How close could he get him to the edge?

Bruce's heart rate thumped through his rear. His cock tweaked between his legs like the straw of a juice box. It spurted precum over their bed. The musk of impending release thickened in the air until they both panted. Malu's pre overflowed from his rear, splashing against the back of his thighs to remind him that, yes, he was being ploughed like a bitch in heat, and there was only one way this night was going to end.

"I'm... Uhhh'm cumming... Malu, breed me! Pleeaauhhhse."

Like a clam clutching its pearl, his hole clamped around Malu. The approach of release condensed, titillating back and forth, and slammed toward its destination. Fourteen inches of dream come true surged behind it. Bruce scratched at the mattress, nickering. Their bed frame galloped into the wall.

Malu's head threw back. His hips were a blur. Instead of mounting like a hare, he climbed onto Bruce's back to penetrate deep, the way a draft horse would. "The first litter of many, sissy," he announced, "Now thank me for-rrgh my offspring." His balls raised halfway up his sack. The left hung lower than the right. They slapped against Bruce's rump, accelerating before pulling taut. "Ah... I'm... Mmhha... Bruce."

Too far gone to reply, Bruce inhaled through his teeth. Malu hilted inside him. The absence of muscle made his body bulge. His mouth hung open, grasping for expletives. Warmth flooded his lower belly. It rose from his hips to his navel, rallying around Malu's length before gushing backwards to glue their legs together. One pump. Another. Malu gripped his hips, holding him in place to deliver his load.

Two globs of spunk fell from Bruce's dick. A third rolled from his flare to the bed, disappearing as quietly as it appeared. It was a pitiful excuse for a cum-shot, and he loved each of its four seconds.

Behind him, Malu roared. His core hardened, compiling its strength into bursts of semen. Riptides of sperm flushed through Bruce's ass, searching for something to fertilise. Despite being of the male sex, Bruce's rear spasmed, channelling it to where it needed to be.

Even if there was only a one percent chance of Bruce ever bearing his offspring-a fraction of a decimal of a percentage of their wish coming true-Malu would make it happen. There would be more potions. More confessions. Change after change, night after night, their bodies would evolve until they were perfect. He was built for this. Bruce had _begged_for this. He came as deep and as hard as he could muster.

Malu's cock protruded from Bruce's underbelly. He cupped it, using Bruce like a cock sleeve to stroke himself off while unloading. The cum-slicked curves of Bruce's body swelled with momentous glugs. Each spurt became more visible the longer Malu came, torquing through Bruce to warm Malu's palm.

"Mmm-lu," Bruce said, struggling to get the air out.

Sensing it was too much, Malu pulled half out, a back-flow of seed sloshing around. It wasn't a flare, but the girth of his cock-head plugged his sperm inside, securing it where it belonged. Every exhale was a sigh. Malu's release slowed. His balls dropped, lounging over Bruce's ass. Cum trickled between them.

"I love you," whispered Bruce.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Bruce lay in his arms, committing every throb to memory. They entwined, breaths steadying, until the sun slept and the tremors of ejaculation subsided. Malu's length softened enough to uncork the cum from his ass, glazing Bruce's legs all the way to the knee. They nestled together, united by a bed of muscle that felt better worn by Malu than it ever did Bruce.

Malu groaned.

"What's up, babe?" Bruce said.

"Mmm. 'Babe.'"

"Yeahuh?"

"I think we'll need to change my sheets," Malu said, chuckling.

"Oh," Bruce said, continuing to leak semen directly onto the bed. "Is there a potion for that?"