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Tumble Dry

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

The Laundromat on Center Street had been there for decades, sitting next to an equally timeless 7-Eleven. The cinder block walls were painted a dated yellow ochre color that was only enhanced at night by the yellow-pink glow of the dated fluorescent lights. The right wall was two levels of tumble dryers that looked over the long central island of back to back washers. The left wall hosted rows of old discounted office chairs and a fourteen-inch television mounted just a bit too high to be comfortable, aimed nowhere in particular. It was far from refined, but at least on a Tuesday night during a heat wave, it wasn't crowded.

Only one young man sat on one of the chairs, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at his cell phone listlessly. A week had passed, and it felt like nothing had updated - no friends, no entertainment... the same news just kept popping up on repeat, and the weather seemed intent on making everyone suffer. With a tap of his thumb, the young man locked the phone. The screen went dark, bringing him face to face with his own reflection.

Ozzy was respected by his elders in the neighborhood, touted by his grandmother to be "such a good boy". He picked up litter, he helped keep the kids from running into the street, he'd gotten alright grades, he'd even taken care of his father when he'd gotten sick... But he was still in the same neighborhood, he was still surrounded by the same people, he still felt... like nothing had changed. It all felt stale...

The twenty-year-old stood up and moved to lean against the cinderblock wall, feeling a bit of relief that they were a bit cooler than the ambient air. He'd stripped down to an old white tank top and cargo shorts, showing off his terra-cotta complexion that contrasted his stark black hair. He leaned his head back and tried to imagine a better place to be, a happy place that was miles away from listening to his laundry shake and rattle around a battered washing machine that was older than he was.

There was a deep rumble from somewhere far in the distance. A new weather front was coming in, cooler air fighting the warmer. There would be thunder and lightning for sure, but Ozzy wasn't sure about rain. The idea of it seemed nice, the idea of getting a break from the heat seemed perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment like a reverse lizard, cooling himself on the wall. It wasn't until he heard the scuffing of shoes against the sidewalk outside that he looked up. Another figure was crossing the threshold, pushing into the empty laundromat. He wasn't the tallest, coming in at a little over five foot eight, but what he lacked in height he made up for in style.

His clothes betrayed a rough and tumble lifestyle. The blue jeans were well worn, faded and stained in spots, blown out at the knees and frayed around the ankles. His black t-shirt had once had a band emblem but that had mostly faded away. There were tiny holes that speckled the shirt almost like some kind of leopard print. Even his skin seemed well worn, sun-spots and freckles, a few scars, and the dark black banding of tattoos he'd had for several years around his biceps. Even his shoes were trashed, the leather and rubber split out along the front of each shoe. To compliment it all, he had spiked bracelets with metal studs.

The clothes were wild, far enough out from the normal everyday sort of thing Ozzy saw to be interesting on their own, but Ozzy had barely registered them. He was too busy looking at the man's face and its many adornments. He seemed to be fairly young, roughly younger than thirty, but Ozzy couldn't tell how much. His reddish-brown hair was cascading down the back of his head in waves. Gold rings glinted from his ears and one ring shone from his nostril. There were some lighter highlights in his hair, roughly down the middle and a rough frame of wild hair flowed down his cheeks and jaw before blossoming into a very long, well cultivated goatee that had been lovingly and tenderly braided together. That plait had a bit of the lighter streaking to it too, the sun-bleached lighter hue spiraling down the braid until the hair hit his collar bone.

Ozzy's reaction was not what he had expected. His heart raced, his lungs filled, and his manhood quivered. He blushed a little, though it didn't exactly show up. He stayed motionless on the wall as this wild man moved in, carrying a huge duffel of dirty laundry over his shoulder. Once more the thunder rumbled outside. Ozzy was sort of lost in the moment. There was something captivating about this man, but not just that, there was something familiar... but how could he forget someone so memorable? Especially in this neighborhood... He watched as the wild man opened one of the washers and opened his duffel, emptying out its contents. A cavalcade of dirty jeans, stained t-shirts, and an ample supply of musky underwear went in before a detergent pod was casually tossed in after. The lid came down with a slam, quarters went in the slot, and soon the washer was hissing as it applied water.

It was at that moment that the wild man turned, spotting the well-meaning but quiet twenty-year-old pressed against the wall like a discarded sticker from the eighties. He paused, his brown eyes scanning Ozzy up and down for a long moment before a grin crossed the plump, glistening lips above the braided goatee. The man took a step forward, then another. Ozzy was startled and tried to press back against the wall even more, though it didn't seem that the wild man meant any harm. As he approached, Ozzy got a whiff of his unique musk. There was an element of pine needles and citrus on top of sweat and manliness.

"Oz? Ozymandias?" he asked. Ozzy was startled all over. He had tried at the very least to cultivate some sense of wonder in his name. He had always felt plain, boring, limited by his fealty to his family and his responsibilities. If he had claimed anything it would be that he had been named after the rock-star rather than a figure out of the ancient past... But this wild man knew him, and in that moment, Ozzy realized why he had looked so familiar. Casting aside the beard, the piercings, the tattoos... Imagining him with shorter hair, a cleaner face... Those brown eyes, those freckles, it all evoked the image of a nice, well-meaning boy from his middle school.

"Derek?" Ozzy whispered in hesitant shock. The wild man grinned even brighter, betraying his somewhat unusually sharp teeth.

"You remembered!" Derek said with relief.

"Shit! You certainly grew up... You look fine, I mean good!" Ozzy stammered. This time Derek gave a more subtle smile, looking him over again before his eyes settled on the tenting going on in Ozzy's pants.

"Well, I see that your tastes have developed. You like what you see?" Derek asked. Ozzy squirmed a bit more, though his erection only intensified. He huffed a bit.

"I appreciate that not everyone fell into a rut. So many of the people from our class just sort of moved on, got short haircuts, got jobs, wear polo shirts and khakis, do the same old thing." Ozzy said. Derek shuddered.

"I hate polo shirts... What are those collars even for?" he smirked, "But hey man, how far along are you? I'll buy you a soda from the vending machine. We can catch up. You still like those fruit flavors, right?" Derek asked. Ozzy froze again, his face lost somewhere between nostalgia and surprise. He nodded weakly.

"Yeah, you're right." he said. Derek grinned and moved over to the vending machine, fishing out some more quarters from the pockets of his faded jeans. Ozzy stood there, looking at this strange, exotic man that his childhood friend had grown into. He'd been so mild mannered as a kid, so innocent, and here he was like he could be on the cover of some nu-metal album. And yet, despite that, he remembered something from seven or eight years prior.

Ozzy's nostalgia turned to a pang of regret, perhaps even envy... The ache grew stronger as he started to let his imagination run wild. What would have happened if he hadn't been such a good boy? What if he'd stayed with Derek instead of going to a different high school? What if they'd grown up together? What if they'd gone wild together? What if... The vending machine rattled as the can tumbled down from its prison deep inside. Derek fed it more quarters and selected another, though having failed to remove the first from the slot, the second one landed at an awkward angle. Derek leaned over, trying to fish them out, his jeans sagging down to reveal a bit of his meaty, muscled, slightly hairy ass cheeks.

Ozzy groaned, feeling even his nipples getting hard. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself back on track, trying not to get carried away by everything. This wasn't right, this wasn't reasonable. It was too late. He'd lived his life; he'd been the good boy. There was no going back, there was no changing, there was no hope. It was a painful fantasy that he'd never be able to undo, that he'd never be able to remedy. He couldn't give in, he couldn't indulge himself, he couldn't... could he? He opened his eyes and Derek was standing there, strawberry soda outstretched, clasped with a hand boasting painted nails in a sort of gunmetal gray shade. Ozzy smiled reluctantly and took the soda, following Derek to settle down into the plastic chairs. Even if the fantasy was painful, he could at last find out what had happened to his long-lost friend. They had a lot of catching up to do.

****

The minutes had passed, creeping on to a half hour. Somewhere on the far wall, Ozzy's drying had finished. The clothing stopped spinning, settled down to the bottom and the dryer slowly popped and clocked as it cooled down and the metal returned to normal. Ozzy didn't care. It wouldn't sour in there. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. The thunder outside had gotten worse, the sky flashing a few times as lightning arced across the clouds. Still, nothing could tear him away from Derek.

Derek had been spilling out everything about their time apart. He'd fallen in with a different crowd in high school, starting as the follower, then coming out of his shell. He'd joined a band, though it hadn't really led anywhere. He'd worked for a sheet metal company for a bit, then a warehouse, then construction. He'd drifted and lived, beholden to no one and nothing. It had sounded lonely but adventurous at the same time.

"And what about you?" Derek asked finally. The words cut like a knife, stinging. Ozzy looked up with pained panic, blinking.

"Uh... I mean, it isn't really much. I just sort of took care of my family is all... Graduated, working at a supermarket..." He said softly.

"Wow, taking care of your family must be hard." Derek said. Ozzy blinked.

"I mean, sometimes. It's all I've really known. I mean, they're in a better place with it now finally, but yeah." Ozzy said. Derek nodded.

"What about your free time? Anyone special? Girlfriends? Boyfriends?" he asked. Ozzy smiled almost fitfully before shaking his head.

"Not yet. What about you?" Ozzy asked. Derek groaned.

"I tried it once... I had a thing going with one of my band mates, but he didn't like it when he saw me making out with the drummer on the side." Derek smirked. Ozzy's jaw dropped. Derek shrugged. "It was for the photo shoot, I mean, it wasn't personal." he smirked, reaching out to rub Ozzy's chin, "But you're going to make someone a very fine husband someday." he said. Ozzy let out a moan despite himself, a tiny wet spot forming in his pants. Ozzy sprung to his feet, content to flee into the night. He took a step, but a hand caught his wrist.

"I can't..." Ozzy whimpered.

"I didn't mean to-" Derek pleaded.

"I know, I just, I want- I mean, I can't, but-" Ozzy stammered. Outside there was a bright flash in a brilliant instant of pink and yellow, then sparks as a transformer erupted, flying off of the telephone pole. From that moment of light came an instant darkness.

Everything in the laundromat stopped. The dryers ceased turning, the washers stopped spinning, the old tv went dark. The neighborhood outside went black as well, though the rest of the city was alright. There was still a faint glow in the clouds broiling in above and a pearlescent shimmer from where the moon was trying to break through. Ozzy stood there in surprise at yet another unexpected turn of events. He didn't come back to reality until the hand on his wrist squeezed a bit.

"You said you wanted?" Derek asked. Ozzy turned back, seeing Derek only faintly. His rusty brown hair disappeared into the dark, but his face was there, barely lit by the ambient light. Earnest, kind, innocent, just like when they were younger. Ozzy looked at the floor, feeling somehow safer in the dark.

"I want... that kind of life, that kind of experience more than anything. More than that, I want it... in the past. I want to have lived a life where I went through that sort of adventure like you did... To become more mature, to become more interesting, and to find someone as open to things like you. I want to have lived a life where I had young love, lust, made mistakes and memories and achieved triumphs all at the same time. Instead I've just sort of... muddled through. Ozzy said. Derek didn't let go of his hand. He raised it, bringing it to his chest.

"It makes for a good story, but.... Guys like me crave a little bit of that steady life. Or at least, knowing that you've grown up to be emotionally mature and understanding. You're this rock, this dependable guy that cares and keeps on caring. That's very sexy." Derek said. Ozzy was conflicted again.

"Sexy? I'm just..." he trailed off. Derek reached down with his free hand, rubbing it against Ozzy's crotch. Ozzy gasped but then didn't pull away. Derek got a better grip, rolling his hand around before he started to massage Ozzy's cock through his pants.

"You're very nice..." Derek grinned, "And besides, it's never too late... You have the thing that all the punk boys wish their boyfriends had. You're loyal, you're dedicated... But it's never too late to get the rest. We could style your hair, get you some piercings... I could do some amazing things with you." Derek whispered. Ozzy blushed, starting to push his hips forward and back, leaning into that hand.

"I'm so tired of laying down alone in bed." Ozzy whispered. Derek grinned at that and leaned forward, bringing his lips to Ozzy's. The two felt the moist embrace, of eager lips pressing in the dark. Ozzy opened his mouth and soon welcomed Derek's tongue, feeling it plunge in and wriggle around. He welcomed it and met it with his own tongue, sliding it back, the two becoming a slithering embrace as their lips spread wider, their tongues dancing.

Derek's grip shifted, wrapping around Ozzy's waist, pulling him closer until their stomachs pressed and Ozzy felt an erection grinding against his own. The two humped and pressed and kissed until they felt like they'd depleted every ounce of oxygen in their lungs and had to part. Derek gasped, Ozzy panted and then chuckled, though he shivered as he felt several sharp points scrape along the small of his back.

"Was that your bracelet?" Ozzy asked. For the first time, Derek seemed to be the one that was hesitant, slowly pulling back.

"Uh, sort of? Well, no, but... Uh, there's one last thing... I need to tell you." Derek muttered, "When I was in high school, I... Something happened. Something that set me apart from... the others." Derek murmured. Ozzy shifted a little.

"Is that when you came out?" he asked. Derek hesitated and then laughed.

"I wish... That came out right when I got to high school. I guess they figured it out when I was staying in the locker room after class ended..." Derek said, "No, this was something different. I was out in the woods, sort of camping out, trying to avoid going home. I... got bitten by something." Derek said.

"Bitten?" Ozzy questioned, a little surprised.

"Yeah, I mean you always heard stories, but this wasn't like..." Derek murmured, grunting softly. Ozzy shifted a little at that, trying to make out the silhouette in the darkness with what little starlight was coming through the start of the laundromat. The edges of Derek's hair didn't seem quite right, and there seemed to be some point near his ear.

"Derek, are you okay?" Ozzy asked. Derek grunted again softly, pressing up tighter against Ozzy, lingering until they were nearly lip to lip.

"The question is, are you alright? Are you alright with your life, or do you want something more?" he asked. His voice was a little deeper, a little more serious. Ozzy could feel the heat radiating off of him, but also an odd softness as their hands brushed.

"I-..." Ozzy hesitated. The short answer was that he was not alright with his life, not in the slightest. He felt trapped, in a rut, defined by his excellence and yet never able to live up to it. His eyes glistened softly as it all came to hit him at once.

"What can I do? I can't go back; I can't change the past... I would have gone with you if I could, even if I had to be some roadie for your band." Ozzy said. Derek grinned slightly.

"You would have been way more than a roadie... But I'm not talking about the past. We've matured, Ozymandius. You're sensitive, wise, handsome... I'm virile, powerful, and ready. I think we could be great together... Assuming you can take the leap." Derek whispered. Ozzy leaned forward and kissed his childhood friend, feeling Derek's goatee brush his chin and chest, feeling his lips, his tongue darting in, but he pulled it back, feeling oddly sharp edges... It was as if Derek's teeth were all fangs.

Ozzy was confused, his doubt lasting slightly longer than the power outage. The lights flickered back to life, flooding the laundromat with that same yellowish pink haze of fluorescent lights. The buildings outside snapped back on as well and there were murmurs from next door in the convenient store, but Ozzy was left standing inches away from a figure that was no longer fully human. Derek had changed in the years since they had last hung out, and he'd changed in more ways than one.

Derek's face was darker, the stubble creeping up his cheeks, his nose darkening at the tip. His ears had grown pointed, fur covering over them and the sun-bleached stripe down his rusty brown hair was more distinct than ever. As Ozzy started, Derek's features were becoming more animal by the moment. His shirt had grown tight, the flesh beneath expanding as his pectorals filled out, his biceps bulged, his triceps pulsed, and his wrists broadened. The shirt was stretched to the limit and the reason for the many little holes was apparent.

The hair on the rocker's arms had grown so thick that it was almost like a pelt, obscuring his skin. His hands were tipped with claws, and there was even a bit of a tail hanging out of the back of his pants over his studded belt. His knees were furry, claws poked through his shoes... It was the stuff of legends - almost. Derek huffed, his mouth growing outward, filling with teeth too large and numerous to be contained. As his face contorted into the start of a muzzle, it brought his nose with it, reshaping... but it wasn't the shape of a wolf. None of it added up as Ozzy quite expected. His fear and confusion began to shift to curiosity. He looked at the shape of the claws, the details of the ears, the coloring, his eyes widened.

"You're... a badger?" Ozzy whispered. A grin crossed Derek's transforming face.

"Fuck yeah, I knew you were a genius..." He whispered before leaning in, kissing Ozzy again. Ozzy moaned, finding it odd and wonderful to kiss someone with a muzzle.

"A were badger?" he asked. Derek nodded.

"Don't believe what they say, we DO give fucks... if anyone's interested." Derek grinned. Ozzy laughed and groaned at the same time from how bad the joke was.

"Did you practice that or come up with it on the fly?" he asked.

Derek smirked softly and moved to nuzzle Ozzy's neck. Ozzy reached up and tangled his fingers in the thickening mane of his friend, feeling how soft and full it was. He could feel more as well, like the thick bulge pushing against his, their erections still raging. Next door there were a series of beeps as the registers came back online and somewhere behind them the television startled to crackle with static as it warmed back up.

"We... we can't stay here. What if someone sees you?" Ozzy asked.

"Make them think they have hysteria from the blackout?" Derek growled, reaching to grope and squeeze Ozzy's ass cheek. Ozzy moaned at that and started to pant before he reached down, looped his fingers into Derek's belt and started to pull him by that. Derek's eyes went wide with glee and then surprise as he stumbled forward, being dragged out of the laundromat even as his face popped and contorted, extending outward. His nose grew dark and moist, fur spreading across the rest of it, even surrounding his eyes. His ears started to shift, wriggling up his head through his hair.

Ozzy led his friend around the cinderblock walls of the laundromat, creeping down the side of the building. They were exposed, but it was late, and everyone was confused with the outage. He just had to go down the side, past the dumpsters, across the grass... Their destination was in sight. Ozzy stepped off the asphalt and onto the crabgrass, though the terrain was uneven and poorly maintained. As he started to slip, Derek grabbed him with a powerful paw and righted him. The two exchanged a look as if they were getting away with something before they made a break for the ragged fence that bordered the grass and the strip of wilderness beyond.

Despite being connected to nature, Derek still broke through the branches like a man. Twigs snapped, leaves crunched, but he didn't care. He made it no more than three feet past the cover of the trees before he grabbed Ozzy with both hands, swung him around off his feet and the two tumbled to the ground. Derek came down, his muzzle spreading wide, grazing Ozzy's cheeks as his tongue plunged into the mouth of his companion.

Ozzy grunted but then cooed, feeling the increasing weight of Derek against him. He was hot, silky, fuzzy, strong... and beefy. Werewolves were always shown getting taller, but Derek was getting BUILT. His arms were thicker than Ozzy's waist, his shoulders almost as broad as a table. As much as his shirt tried to hang on, it split out, snapping into tatters to reveal a chest covered in fur with quarter sized nipples poking out.

Derek reached down, having practiced a lot to save his belt. He got it off just in time, whipping it out of the loops before his jeans popped. Ozzy felt the hot, thick slab of cock land across his stomach - his entire stomach - before being followed by Ozzy's plump, full balls. They had to be the size of oranges, maybe bigger. Derek wriggled and shifted, kicking off his underwear, his pants, and what was left of his shoes. His clothes were mostly destroyed and the ones that weren't were back at the laundromat, sitting idle after the machines fell silent in the outage.

"You said you were bitten?" Ozzy whispered. Derek grinned at that and nodded, carefully pulling Ozzy's shirt off over his head, revealing his lithe, supple torso. He reached down to tug his pants down next, running a paw over the bulge in his underwear.

"Yeah... It hurt for a moment, but kind of in a good way? Like pain that pleases... It wasn't like anything I'd ever felt, and then I realized I wanted more than just the pain and pleasure. I wanted to be able to share it with someone, to share myself with someone. But the guys in the band were idiots. They were so immature. Not like you, not like you could be... with me..." Derek whispered, leaning in, licking Ozzy's chin slowly. Ozzy shivered.

"I want it, I just don't know about the rest of my life, I've got responsibilities." Ozzy whispered. Derek purred softly, nuzzling Ozzy's neck again.

"I know... and it's a fantasy to imagine taking you away from all that, giving you a wild life. What I offer you is something else... Life might be tough, it might throw us for a tumble, but we can get through it together. You can still take care of people and be kind, but why not have fun doing it? Why not be the kind of man, the kind of badger, you want to be while doing it?" Derek grinned, "Let me make you my mate... and then let me make you very happy." Derek whispered.

Ozzy was there, pinned by several hundred pounds of were badger... a werebadger with a long-braided beard and piercings... a werebadger with tattoos beneath his fur... and beneath that, a heart of gold. He was hot, he was sweet, he was wild, he was romantic. Ozzy didn't realize that those elements could exist together, and if they could... if they could exist in the same body, in a long-lost friend... maybe he could have the best of both worlds too. Ozzy reached up, running his hand along Derek's muzzle, appreciating its shape and texture.

"Fuck me up, badger boy." Ozzy whispered. Derek shivered with anticipation before he removed the last of Ozzy's garments, his underwear, bringing them together until they were cock to cock. As hot as it was outside, and as warm as Derek was, it still felt cozy to have them touching, almost like a weighted furry blanket. Derek gave him a few good humps, sliding back and forth, grinding and growling, feeling Ozzy grow hotter, sweatier and harder.

The two pressed together, Ozzy wrapping his arms around as much of Derek's midsection as he could... He had abs for days, even the space under his arms felt jacked. He was a tank... Ozzy moaned, holding on for dear life, groaning. Derek leaned down, nuzzling Ozzy's neck, smelling his friend - his true scent, taking it in. It was precious, it was perfect... but it was about to change. Derek spread his muzzle wide and came down, his fangs sinking into Ozzy's virgin shoulder. Ozzy gasped in shock, but his eyes slowly widened. It was just like Derek had said.

There was the pain of having so many badger teeth pierce his skin, shock from being injured, but a strange euphoria combined with a tingling heat. Derek slowly pulled his maw back and began to lick at the wound, keeping it clean, coaxing the skin. Ever so gently, the flesh started to close as the blood clotted with unusual speed. The ring of bite marks remained dark and bruised on his shoulder, scabbing over but not disappearing yet. His metabolism was changing, but it wasn't fast enough to heal the wound instantly.

Ozzy wasn't sure what he was feeling at first as the pain fizzed and faded. He felt... warm. He felt like he had adrenaline coursing through his body... but that could have just been because he as in the woods behind a laundromat with a handsome badger boy... He kept moving against Derek, rubbing and grinding and holding, but with each passing moment, it felt like he was getting a better grip. His fingers clung tighter, his arms squeezed more, his legs got more traction.

Derek was peppering Ozzy with kisses and licks, nuzzling him all over. He knew more what to expect, and he could feel that Ozzy's body was getting tighter and thicker beneath him. At first his chest was soft to the touch, but the skin was spread over hardening slabs of meat, slowly firming like cement setting in the afternoon sun. The flat chest began to push outward, rounding a little at first before the definition took hold.

"Fuck..." Ozzy whispered, moaning, his nipples aching and throbbing. He looked down, watching his pecs start to balloon outward, getting bigger and thicker. For a moment he was worried they looked almost like breasts in comparison to everything else, but he realized that the arm that was slipped under Derek's arm was trying its best to catch up. He'd always had arms like noodles, like green beans, straight and smooth without definition. The contours of his elbows were more visible now, and his forearms were thickening... but none of that compared to the change to the curves and bulges of his upper arms.

Derek and Ozzy both watched in the dim evening light as Ozzy's cinnamon skin spread outward like a canvas being unfurled, making way for his arms to get beefier and beefier. It was mesmerizing to watch, but a gurgling from Ozzy's stomach - or rather just over it - drew both of their attention back down. Ozzy gasped, his back arching. New muscles spread through his system like snakes beneath the skin. His stomach grew tight, then full, then rounder. It pushed up and out, the flesh and tissue reshaping and reorganizing. It grew broader and wider before it clenched and spasmed. Ozzy called out; eyes wide before he gasped.

What had, for a moment, been a barrel gut redefined itself as it settled into a ten pack of perfectly segmented muscles. They wrapped around his ribs and connected with the muscles in his back, fortifying. Ozzy groaned and moaned, looking at Derek, wanting to speak but not finding the words. The rusty red badger slipped back slowly, rubbing Ozzy's legs as they got hotter and hotter by the second before he lifted them up. Ozzy wasn't sure what was going on at first until Derek put one of his legs on each shoulder.

Ozzy moaned in pleasure and discomfort at the same time, feeling the burn coursing through his veins, reaching every centimeter of his body. His eyes clenched shut as his thighs started to bloat and then a strange popping came from his feet. Ozzy had no idea how many bones were in a foot, but he could feel each one as they started to expand and grow, pushing outward, his feet swelling to compensate for his expanding body mass.

Derek licked his lips as he brought the fat, plump head of his badger cock to Ozzy's ass... but it wasn't time yet. He watched as the human's cheeks swelled thicker and rounder, inflating like a balloon, pushing apart, growing wider still. He had a bubble butt that porn stars would die for, pushing out a good six inches, then eight from his waist... all sitting beneath the widening V of his back.

Ozzy rolled shoulder to shoulder, huffing and sweating as he felt his body get heavier and heavier. His shoulders spread outward from his head, adding on inches, his huge arms pushed away as well. The muscles crept up his neck, tapering toward his head, anchoring on his collar bone. It was almost like all that muscle and all that meat was starting to seep into his brain, the adrenaline mixing with a potent venom of ego... He was ripped, he was stacked, he was huge... He was every phrase he'd heard around the jocks, so many he'd forgotten them all. He was a god, a terracotta sculpture of physical perfection... His feet looked so big resting on Derek's shoulders...

"Do it..." Ozzy begged. Derek blinked, eager but wanting to be careful.

"You're sure?" Derek asked. Ozzy hissed, betraying that his teeth were growing sharper in his mouth, coming to points.

"Fuck me!" Ozzy begged. Derek growled with delight before he surged forward, his huge cock piercing between Ozzy's meaty globes. He hit that sphincter and pushed right through, sliding into his partner's depths.

Ozzy howled in pleasure, his fingers digging into Derek's fur. His fingers kneaded the flesh there, but he started to feel a throbbing in his fingertips. His nails had gotten thicker, heavier, sinking down into the flesh a bit more. As the keratin thickened, it got longer too, growing out past the tips of his digits, growing more dangerous and deadly. The flesh closed up over the top of it, locking in each claw as they settled.

Derek had started slow, but it was hard to keep the beast back. His movements were picking up the pace and the speed, moving forward and back, faster and harder, deeper and deeper. He grunted and growled and bore his fangs, getting into it, but it wasn't just about fucking. He appreciated Ozzy, appreciated his friend that had opened himself up in this way. He reached down to tweak and pinch one of Ozzy's swollen nipples, making his whole pec twitch and his partner to moan again.

"Fuck yeah... Derek... Yes!" Ozzy hissed before throwing his head back, eyes half lidded, gazing up at the trees. His head was swimming in a soup of sensations. His ears burned as they stretched into points, bristling with black fur across the back. His nose darkened at the tip, his jaw grew dark as stubble bristled through the skin, following the contours of his features.

With every thrust and every passing second, Ozzy began to develop like a time lapse video about the evolution and the maturation of man. Hair sprouted from under his arms, across his chest, thickening across his groin and a downy coating of fuzz covered his ass cheeks... His legs and arms got darker and darker, the hair coating them... but then hair started to grow places few humans ever sported. His elbows and knees got patches of fur, it wrapped around his collarbone and shoulders like a wreath.

Derek knew better than to take all the credit, but to him it looked almost like he was fucking the badger into his friend, and that fantasy encouraged him to thrust deeper, harder, faster. He tried to speed it up, feeling his meaty lover's body getting fuzzy beneath him. He kept going, not holding back, his heavy balls starting to slap against Ozzy's taint. Ozzy shivered with each thwack, but he felt something else wriggling between his bubble butt beyond just Derek's cock... He felt his tailbone ache and throb, feeling as if he'd fallen on it wrong until finally it began to wriggle and move on its own. Even the small appendage had been wrapped in muscle and as new bones formed, it freed itself from his pelvis, becoming independent, filling out into a badger tail.

Ozzy's heart raced even as it grew larger. His lungs expanded; his stomach swelled. His anatomy was shifting to support such a large, dense creature. Ozzy slowly experimented with manipulating his big, fury legs, watching as his toenails stretched into claws and the fur covered his reformed paws. He coiled his legs around Derek's head, holding him captive, his fuck pet. Derek hissed, feeling the pressure around his head, loving it. He fucked Ozzy all the harder to their mutual pleasure.

Heat, friction, fur, pressure - every sense was in deep rapture. Ozzy felt like he was a teapot near whistling, everything pushing up and up and up... and eventually... into his head. His mouth had already grown too full from the fangs, but it seemed that all that pressure had to go somewhere. Ozzy was a little disoriented as he went deaf, feeling the vibrations that should have produced sounds traveling through his skull, but getting no sense back. He could feel his black hair rifle and shift as something moved up through them, and in an almost stunning moment of surprise, his hearing came back twice as strong as before.

Furry, pointed ears twitched atop his head, shifting ever so slightly before the most intense ache spread through Ozzy's entire skull. He tried to stay in rhythm with Derek, but it was hard as his entire face began to remold itself. His jaw pushed forward, his nose stretched out, his eye sockets protected his eyes even as the rest of his face began to extend and expand, pushing forward. The stubble that had started on his face pushed outward, not as hair but as fur. It swept up his cheeks, past where his ears had been, crossing his nose and surrounding his eyes. His brows disappeared into it and his forehead was subsumed until, in one precious moment, Ozzy had become a werebadger.

Seeing his friend transformed before his eyes, mutated while riding his cock, Derek threw his head back and let out a roar, thrusting as deep as he could get into Ozzy before his mighty balls unleashed their load and began to pour forth their bounty. Squirt after squirt delivered his virile seed deep into Ozzy's ass, and in return, Ozzy's body accepted the gift and was nourished by it. Ozzy's own cock had been rock hard, but it began to stretch outward in girth and length. Each heartbeat pushed more blood and in turn the cells divided, becoming more numerous, allowing his cock to push out to new lengths and heights, rising up to meet the prowess of his partner.

Ozzy gasped, moaned, and then howled, letting out a shockingly deep noise from his newly minted muzzle. His balls throbbed and grew, but even as they did, they offered forth what Ozzy had to offer. His pillar of meat began to shoot and spray his spunky seed, each jet thicker and longer than the last. As he arched his back and came, hosing Derek down with his sperm even as he was filled, his dark black fur began to fade in spots, streaks of gold and then white working their way down from his hair, down his back and to his tail.

The two muscled behemoths were locked in their shared orgasm, unleashing their cum, their musky scent on the wind to inspire the animal kingdom around them. Ozzy was the first to subside, collapsing back onto the dirt and leaves, panting. Derek lasted a bit longer, his stamina trained more, but he too was soon spent. He gently lowered Ozzy's legs down to his hips, then leaned forward, collapsing onto his partner's now rather ample chest. Derek's head rose and fell with each of Ozzy's breaths, listening to his powerful heart thumping and relaxing.

Both were breathless, both were elated, both were drenched with sweat and cum... and both were happier than they'd ever been. Ozzy felt powerful and strong and healthy and virile, there was no denying that, but he also felt... accepted, wanted, loved, even that he was enough. Derek wanted him and he wanted him for the qualities that made him who he was. It was amazing... And Derek finally felt like he'd found what he'd been missing all those years, a friendship blossomed into something more, offering safety and shelter and acceptance... The two had been halves of what was meant to be whole, and all it had taken had been a trip to the laundromat and for fate to allow them to tumble around together, spinning in an intimate dance until they were right where they were meant to be.

****

The hot summer had been unrelenting, giving way to an almost equally hot fall. There had been more storms, one blissful stretch of rain and then back to the heat. While most people managed to do laundry at home, there was one perk about utilizing a laundromat... All the heat from the dryers didn't go into one's home... and for one particular couple, another perk was that each trip to the laundromat was like a romantic date and a memory of love forged in the light and darkness of a thunderstorm.

Derek eased into the laundromat first, having to turn a bit to get both his bulky frame and his hamper of clothes in. The months had treated him well. He wore a different black shirt dotted by holes, including one that gratuitously showed off his fat, pierced nipple. His long-braided goatee had grown even longer, and his ears had a peculiar point to them he just couldn't seem to shake off. His studded belt was a bit stretched, riding low, showing off the cleft of his muscled ass and the shadow of the ample forest surrounding his groin.

As Derek made it to the washers, opened the lid of two machines and started to pour his dirty laundry in, another figure came in behind him, holding the drawstrings to two huge laundry bags draped over each meaty shoulder. Ozzy had filled out even in human form, packing on the pounds. He wore tank tops almost exclusively since his arms were too thick for most sleeves. It also gave him a chance to show off the badger tattoo on his left shoulder, the head of the inked badger looking up at the faint crescent shaped row of blotches that showed off where he had been bitten.

Ozzy had embraced his chance to walk on the wild side, growing out a fine and robust black beard that hung down a good seven inches from his jaw, his mustache obscuring his top lip. There was a faint strip of grey that ran down the center from his bottom lip to the base of his beard, making him look distinguished despite his age. Ozzy had gotten his ears pierced and was working up to thicker gauge metal, and his pants seemed to be eternally tented, though that could have been the frequency with which Derek would come over and kiss him, allowing the two to grind against each other a bit.

Despite Ozzy's wild style and change in appearance, things had not changed all that much. He still looked after his family, took care of his neighbors, but now the neighbors couldn't get enough of how sweet the two young men were together. Ozzy would do weeding while Derek mowed the lawn, Ozzy taught Derek how to get the recycling right and Derek helped Ozzy learn how to clean gutters. The neighborhood was a better place, and people looked up to the sweet couple that helped everyone out despite clearly knowing how to take a walk on the wild side.

Derek muttered under his breath as he dropped his quarters and leaned over to pick them up. Ozzy sighed a bit wistfully, looking at his fine ass as he leaned over, but in that moment, he realized how lucky he was. He'd been fortunate enough to get through his awkward years, to find the love of his life, to make himself into someone he could be proud of both inside and out... He hadn't lost what made him special to others, and he'd found what made him special to himself. He was lucky, he was happy, and for the first time in his life he had no fucks to give... He was a badger and proud of it.