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[b][u][center]College Complications[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]Chapter 1[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For John_Doe12346[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

“You sure about this, man?” Frank asked, looking down at the folder tucked under his arm. “I mean, I’m game if you are, but…tattoos? It’s kinda…I don’t know, not something you walk away from.”

“That’s the point. We want to remember this, don’t we?”

“Well, yeah, but –”

“Then what are you complaining about?” James smiled, the same sort of smile that always made him shine from blonde hair to perfect teeth. “Come on, let’s live a little for a change.”

That was what they were doing? He wasn’t sure that he agreed; considering that they were in their last year of undergrad school, that was probably something that they didn’t really have time for. Studies, work, and everything else had to come first, according to the teachers and all the experts in the field. Taking too much time to do anything else would fuck them over in the long term, and they were going to have enough student loans to pay off as it was without getting less than perfect grades and graduating without honors. With it, they could maybe pay it off sooner, but without?

At the same time, he couldn’t help but get a little swept up in the excitement of the moment. He smiled almost against his will as James led the way down the stairs, rubbing the back of his head.

“Well, if you say so.”

“Heh, come on. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“I can think of a few times.”

“Okay, other than the cow-tipping.”

“…Not so much.”

“See?”

“Hey, I already agreed, didn’t I?” Frank asked, shaking his head. “Come on, just because I’m a bit shy –”

“A lot.”

“Okay, a lot, but just because of that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in trying things. I just need a…a little push.”

“And that’s me. The Little Push.”

Frank laughed despite himself, shaking his head at the line. There were lots of things that James could be, but only next to Frank was he ‘little.’

They were quite the pair. They were both on the chunky-chubby side, but that was where the similarities ended. Frank was a well-tanned Hispanic man, while James was quite pale and obviously Caucasian. He had a perpetual case of stubble going on, while James was fairly clean-shaven. They both had glasses, though his were of a much stronger prescription, but James had blonde hair and he had black. And he was taller. Taller by a full half foot, as a matter of fact.

They were an odd pair, but they’d worked well as roommates for most of their time at college, and they were looking forward to closing out that career together in style. Or at least, James was, and Frank was a willing-enough follower.

“So, um, where is this tattoo parlor?” Frank asked.

“Not far off campus. The Glowing Needle. Ever heard of it?”

“Sounds like an invitation to a clinic.”

“Come on. It’s just a name.”

“Yeah, and it sounds like radiation.”

“Come on, even you have to admit that’d be cool.”

“A tattoo that glowed through my clothes? Not so much.”

It was going to be hard enough to get used to having one, let alone one that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Even those Ren-Faire henna tattoos were hard to show off, and he was always at least a little glad to have them disappear over time. They were never well-considered, and he always regretted the choice of tattoo that he made before they were completely gone.

This time, he felt a bit better about it, but…well, it was still weird.

“You sure about yours?” he asked as they left the campus, crossing the street toward the strip-mall.

“Sure as I can be. It’s going to be…well, you know.”

“The Mewtwo?”

“Hey, I was proud of that drawing. Not like I get the chance to show off a new type.”

Frank chuckled. It had been one of the first real things that James had drawn that wasn’t a building, and the first good person with muscles that he’d managed, too. Others had come and gone since, but James had kept the Mewtwo drawing around as a point of pride, something to look at and remind himself that he could do good things.

All things considered, he could see why his friend wanted to keep that around as a piece of himself, as a reminder of their last year. It made more sense than his.

“You okay, Frank?” James asked.

“I guess…”

“…If you really don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“We can turn around right now.”

“I know.”

“…You’re not going to, though?”

“I mean…I mean, you’re right. I’m not exactly happy that you’re right, but you’re right. It’s our last year, and we should have something to remember it, and this…this will last for a long, long time.”

“…Heh, it’s the fact that you can’t change your mind, isn’t it?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It’s just that you.”

He chuckled nervously, shaking his head. He knew it was true, but it was still kind of irritating to admit.

They reached the tattoo parlor at the strip mall not long after that. The Glowing Needle was just one more of the shops, not standing out much save for the unlit neon needle that stuck out over the door. They could have walked right by it if James hadn’t been keeping an eye out for it the whole time. He stopped Frank in his steps and turned him around, and the pair of them walked in.

For a hole in the wall place, it was pretty clean, something that he was thankful for. The receptionist looked up, the young woman popping her gum before swallowing it.

“Appointment?” she asked.

“Yeah, for James and Frank.”

“Yeah, yeah…looks like we got you here. Didn’t pick a tattoo artist?”

“No, didn’t know anyone.”

“Got your designs?”

They both hefted the folder that they’d brought along. The receptionist nodded, tapping a few keys on her computer.

“Looks like we got someone. You guys good with the newbie doing?”

“Well…”

“Half off.”

“Deal,” James said.

“Room three.”

Just like that, they were waiting in room 3, and James was pulling his shirt off and lying down on the table. Frank took the piece of art from him, shaking his head as he looked at the paper.

The Mewtwo was a grayscale version of the Pokémon, but with much thicker muscles and harder limbs than the real thing had. It didn’t go overboard, still more or less the same thing, but the muscles were potent, exaggerated, making the Psychic powerhouse look like something even more dangerous, and more, even cooler than he’d normally be.

The only real differences between James’s art and the real Pokémon was the fact that he’d added body hair and a few more fingers to each hand. It kept it more humanoid, he said, and he liked the idea of what something that powerful would look like as a person rather than just as a monster.

[i]Looks better than I remember,[/i] he thought, laying the paper on his friend’s back.

“You don’t mind me going first?” James asked.

“Not at all. I get to see you suffer.”

“Sadist.”

“Masochist.”

“You are one cruel roommate. I should report you.”

“Your idea,” he said, sitting down at the side of the table. “You think that this is going to go, you know, above-board? I mean, new tattooist and all?”

“It’ll be fine. And we’re saving a lot this way.”

That’s what he hoped, at least.

The tattooist came in a few minutes later. The young man was probably barely in his twenties, if that, and he fumbled things a bit more than Frank liked. However, he didn’t ask questions, nor did he make fun of the design that James had brought with him, which made Frank feel a bit better about his own. He cupped his folder a little closer to his chest, not quite hiding it, but not letting it out, either.

“Upper back?” the kid asked.

“Yep,” James said, nodding. “Just make sure that it’s dead center.”

“Yep.”

The kid attached the tattoo gun to the table and started getting the ink ready. There was some sort of glowing goo that ran over some of the paint, and Frank almost opened his mouth to ask what it was, only to shut up at the last second.

It was probably just part of the name and gimmick, right? Why was he asking? That…that was just asking for more nervous moments. He’d be better off and less anxious if he just shut up.

And so, he did. He sat down, crossed his legs, and waited as the tattoo artist set to work. The little whirr of the tattoo gun firing over and over again got louder and louder, but despite that, James was quite calm. His roommate barely grunted as his shoulder and back-flesh got pierced again and again by the needle, keeping his head down the whole time as the process continued.

There was no talking. It was all quiet, whether it was from the need to not be distracted, the desire not to distract the artist, or the awkward feeling that Frank had that if he said anything he’d just out himself as a nervous nellie. The room was completely quiet other than the tattoo gun for nearly forty-five minutes.

And then, it was done. The tattooist pulled back, and James sat up, hissing softly as he did. The tattooist put a plaster over James’s back and offered him a pamphlet on cleaning it, and then patted the table.

It was his turn. Frank pulled off his shirt with a bit of hesitation, laying down as fast as he could. The table was warm, not cold, and that was a small comfort, at least. He passed the paper over, closing his eyes.

“Upper back?”

“Mm-hmm…”

He waited for the teasing. It was a bit of a stupid piece, he knew. It was art of a character that he played online, a fursona that he had adopted this year. It was why he’d picked it, hoping to keep a memory of what he was in this moment rather than something that he had to be forever, but it was hard to see it as a good thing right then.

After all, the creature was…weird. A mix of a bat and a horse, it had a muscle-gut that stood out like someone’s mature dad, and there were nipples running up the bare stomach and chest. While the character was dressed, there was a serious bulge in the creature’s pants, and that bulge showed off just how inhuman its endowments were.

He blushed worse as he imagined the various inhuman bits, and how weird it must have looked. A horse head, a black mohawk, venomous fangs, bat wings, spikes along the spine –

God, he must have looked like such an edge-lord.

He was more relieved than there were words to describe that the tattooist didn’t say a thing, but instead just got right to work bringing the needle to bear. He wanted to ask about the glowing stuff again, but –

“Hsss!”

The needle was more painful than he expected, and he gritted his teeth as he grabbed the table hard. James bit off a chuckle.

“I thought it wouldn’t hurt!” Frank groaned.

“It’s a needle stabbing you dozens of times a minute. What did you expect?”

“You didn’t react!”

“Yeah, and you know how hard that was? Real hard, let me tell you.”

“You – mmmph!”

“Yeah, try and relax. The tighter you clench up, the more it hurts.”

Frank rolled his eyes, trying to do just that. But as James said, it was a needle stabbing him dozens of times a minute. That wasn’t exactly easy.

#

They were both exhausted after the tattooing, so they went back to their dorm and went to sleep. They did take the time to change the dressing before bed, giving the tattoos time to air out and get used to the feeling of having them in the first place, but that was all they had energy for before conking out.

When morning came, however, they were a little more concerned.

“Is it supposed to glow that much?” James asked, standing in front of a mirror and looking over his shoulder.

“I don’t think so. I mean…not usually.”

“Maybe it’s a gimmick.”

“I mean…maybe?” Frank shook his head. “But…if it keeps going, maybe we should go to the hospital. I mean, heavy metals and – you know, just be safe.”

“Nah, I think we’ll be okay. A little glow’s not bad.”

“But if it gets worse –”

“If it gets that bad, yeah, sure, we’ll go.”

“Thank you,” he huffed out, shaking his head. “So…what do you want to do today?”

“Well, no class today.”

That was the main reason that they’d waited as long on the tattoos as they had. They wanted to get it done on a day where they’d have time to recover afterward so that they weren’t in class for the first few days of healing. The idea of having that itch-storm along their backs while they were trying to get work done, not to mention sensitivity with plenty of back-slappy work partners, was not something that either of them wanted to deal with.

Frank was more than happy to stay in for the weekend, but he knew James, and he knew that the chances of that were almost nil. The other man was more willing to be out and about, and while he wasn’t a party animal, he [i]was[/i] someone that always wanted to be doing something. Whether it was going to museums, hitting up a new exhibit, or just going for a movie or –

“I want to hit the gym today.”

There it was. Frank groaned under his breath.

“Come on. You’re sounding like I’m dragging you along against your will.”

“Aren’t you, though?”

“You don’t have to come along.”

And that was true. He didn’t have to do that. He was his own person and could have stayed at the dorms all day long. There were days that he did that when James was particularly antsy, but…

But there was always that feeling of being disconnected from his roommate, and they had been friends for a long time now. Hell, James had been the guy he came out to about the furry stuff and the other things that he had been interested in. They didn’t [i]do[/i] stuff together – they didn’t have that kind of friendship, and he wasn’t sure if he was gay in real life, either – but they were buddies. They knew how to spend time together and enjoy stuff, and they trusted each other.

And more to the point, Frank was desperate to keep that in his life. He felt like, if he didn’t go out and at least try most of the stuff that James did, he might end up losing his friend. His best friend.

And that was unacceptable.

“I’m coming with you. I…probably should.”

“Heh, start looking like your ‘sona?”

“I doubt that’s possible.”

“You never know.”

“Come on, don’t start giving me false hope here. We know how these things work.”

Chuckling, James waved for him to come along. They both tossed their shirts back on and grabbed their sandals before taking the trek down to the college gym. It wasn’t a long walk – it was pretty close to the dorms – but the weekend meant that it was already busy, and they were in a queue of people that wanted in.

Eventually, they did get through, and they went right to the machines. James went for the leg-curls and he went for the bench press, adding the usual weights to it. He was too on-and-off an attendee of the gym to actually make progress in how much he could lift, but he was able to at least keep from losing the weight that could lift. A steady eighty with the bar included was enough for him.

Usually, at least. This time, he barely got in position before lifting the bar before realizing something was off. He paused, staring straight up as he held the bar with ease. Usually, his arms started burning the second that he took it off the supports, but this time? This time, he held it up without a problem.

[i]The hell?[/i]

Shaking his head, he lowered the bar, expecting at any moment for whatever weird surge of strength he had to fail, but even as the metal bar touched his chest, he realized that he wasn’t really feeling it. Hell, he felt like he could have put double the weight on and had no problem, but that was impossible. He hadn’t been to the gym for nearly a week, and he hadn’t been that strong back then.

[i]The hell? The fucking hell?[/i]

He pushed, and the weights lifted up with ease. Almost too much ease, considering how they went up and nearly bumped a passing student in the side. He apologized heartily, going back to the slower lift, feeling the slight burn of someone using too little weight for the workout that they were going for.

As impossible as it was, he looked over to see that James was having an almost identical situation. His friend was pushing the leg curl machine forward, staring at the weights as if in disbelief. He let them fall, adjusted the weights, and they still moved more easily than they should have.

[i]This is impossible. What the hell happened to…happened to…[/i]

The longer that he lifted and lowered the bar, the more that he felt something else. It wasn’t the low burn of a good work-out, but rather something else, something steadily growing and throbbing. His muscles burned a bit, but not tiredly, more…excitedly, turning into a throbbing feeling that was much more familiar further down. His cheeks burned as he realized that he was starting to throw a tent in his shorts, and he pushed the bar back up, putting it back in its slot before sitting up in a hurry.

It wasn’t that he had gotten a full erection, but he could feel it worming its way out of his underwear and into his shorts. He looked down to see that it was just barely visible in his pants leg, and he had to force himself to push it back in place without anyone seeing what he was doing.

[i]Never had that happen before…[/i]

Well, he knew it was possible. Adrenaline, dicks and all that, but that was not something that usually happened to him. He got tired from exercising, not horny. So, what the fuck was all that about?

And why…

He realized something else, too. He had been lying on his back with eighty pounds pushing down on him, and the tattoo on his back hadn’t hurt in the slightest. That [i]really[/i] shouldn’t have been a thing.

Frank looked at James, and James looked at him. They both had the same slightly discomforted expression on their faces, and neither had an answer for the common question between them.

What the hell was going on?

They both tried different machines, giving various exercises a try while they had the chance, but everything felt too – for lack of a better word – easy. The rowing machine felt like he was pulling at air, and the squats felt like he was just standing up and sitting down. Using the free weights, even the biggest of them, just didn’t do anything for his arms. It was like everything had become little more than Styrofoam, and all he could do was push at them. It felt like if he pushed anything too hard, he’d break it, and he could tell that James was having the same disorienting experience.

They were quick to give up on weight-lifting, with him even more eager to put it behind than usual. It wasn’t that he was tired, or even that he was [i]that[/i] freaked out, though he was more nervous than he had words for. It was that he was slowly sprouting more and more of a boner the more that he exerted himself, and the feeling of it getting so hard in public was more than a little embarrassing.

They excused themselves at the same time to the shower, and as they did, Frank realized that he was actually going to strip down in public and get clean. Normally, he would have waited until they were back at the dorm, but this time…

This time, he just felt like he had to. He slipped into the shower with his towel in hand, tucking it behind the faucet, and turned on the water. The cold did nothing to get rid of his boner, and he gritted his teeth as he looked down at it under his chub. It was just…there, throbbing and bouncing, and he glared at it as if that would make it go away.

Instead, it bounced in defiance of him, as if daring him to grab it and do something about it. The very idea was enough to keep him hard, and embarrassing enough that he went bright red as he looked up and away.

Unfortunately, he looked at James…and from behind, James looked good enough that his boner jumped again.

[i]Stay down,[/i] he thought at it.

But just like with any man in the history of the world, begging one’s boner to stay down just meant that it would stay up. And it stayed [i]up[/i], throbbing and waving around like a flag that was trying to get the attention of everyone in the shower. Frank stepped closer to the tiled wall, trying to keep it from being as obvious that he was getting turned on by his roommate, and hoping that he wasn’t doing the same to anyone else.

[i]As if anyone could be turned on by me…[/i]

Shaking his head, he did his best to just get clean, and hoped that he could avoid getting spotted as the perv that he was somehow becoming. Yet, he still kept throwing a look over his shoulder, glancing back at James. Every time he did, the blonde man was staring at the wall, his ass popping out just a bit, and every time, it sent a throb down to his cock.

[i]Don’t look.[/i]

It didn’t matter how many times he told himself that. He kept looking, and he kept getting more turned on. By the end of the shower, he was hard as a rock, and he had to waddle to keep his cock down with how hard it had become. There were no questions, thankfully, but…well, he doubted that he’d do this again anytime soon.

#

Two weeks passed, and as they did, the tattoos still didn’t entirely heal. They should have, long since, but though they didn’t bleed much – at least, after the first twenty-four hours – they didn’t stop glowing. Never enough to get through both the bandage and the shirt, or even a shirt and a second later, but enough that they both saw it when they were sleeping. At least, Frank did; he didn’t know if James ever looked at his.

More than that, they both had developed an odd border to them, an inch-thick line around each of the tattoos that was the same major color that the tattoos themselves were. Frank had a black border around the bat-horse on his back, while James had a line of gray around his Mewtwo. It didn’t hurt how they looked in either case, but it did make their own skin look a bit weird around them.

It wasn’t bad enough that either of them wanted to go to the hospital and drop that kind of cash on getting it fixed, but it was enough to leave them both concerned. Even James showed some hints of it as the border continued to grow day by day.

It was fourteen days since the tattoos now, and he was still not sure whether it would stop. Frank shook his head as he attended a lecture, making a few notes here and there but mostly thinking about his situation.

[i]What’s the doctor going to do? Just give me another shot?[/i]

Or was it going to have to be a skin graft?

What if it was all infected?

What if –

He groaned, shaking his head. There was something to the glowing stuff at the tattoo shop, but when he tried to call them to get a straight answer about what it was, The Golden Needle had hung up on him. When he went down there two days ago, asking what the glowing stuff was, the receptionist had pretended complete ignorance on the topic and told him to call the artist. He tried, only to find out that the new guy had disappeared last week and that they hadn’t heard from him since.

They were at a dead end, and he didn’t know what was going to happen to himself, or to James.

[i]Just…focus. You can still do that.[/i]

Even if the world felt different, he could do that. Lessons were not paper or cardboard. He couldn’t break that by overexerting himself. Not like the door to the gym three days ago. Or the bed a day ago when he was jerking off, or –

[i]Just pay attention.[/i]

But it was hard. Very hard, when his mind was floating in the growing heat in the lecture hall. He felt floaty, a bit sweaty, a little…a little turned on. Not too much, not to the point where he was getting hard down there, but his nipples were a bit stiff. Stiff on little peaks of muscle, and –

And warm.

And wet.

And dripping.

Frank’s pen stopped moving across his paper as he realized that there was more than just a bit of sweat under his shirt, and it was spreading further by the second. Thankful that he was at the back of the class for once, he reached under his shirt and –

And he found himself touching something wet and slimy, and something far more suited to have come from his crotch.

[i]No…no way…[/i]

Shaking, he slowly pulled his hand out from under his shirt, looking down at his fingers to see something clear, mostly transparent with a bit of bubbles through it. He pressed it between his fingers and spread them apart, getting a familiar sight that he normally had halfway through a jerk-off session.

He…

He was dripping pre-cum through his nipples.

Just like his ‘sona would.

Shaking like a leaf and on the verge of hyperventilating, he shoved his notebook back into his bookbag and stood up. Praying that his shirt wasn’t as soaked through as it felt like it was, he excused himself from the lecture and barely stopped himself from running for the door. He didn’t know if he would be able to avoid further humiliation from that, but he could at least try.

However, as soon as he was outside, he ran. Oh, he [i]ran[/i] for the dorms, beating feet faster than he had ever done before. The treadmill had ever been his enemy in the gym, but for this moment, he could run.

Hell, he almost felt like he could fly from how fast he was running.

There was no question that he got a few weird looks as he ran across the campus, considering the way that he just ran for the hills, but he hoped that nobody had seen the growing dark spots that were spreading across his chest. Even as he slammed the door to his dorm when he got inside, he could feel it spreading further, and he locked the door tight before rushing over to the mirror and standing in front of it.

It was more than just the dark spots, though those were the most prominent things. His shirt was tighter than it had been, and his pecs felt a bit more pushed forward, too, almost like they were bigger and more…swollen, or something. He reached up to cup them, shaking his head in utter disbelief.

“How…this…this doesn’t just happen…”

And yet, it was. He pulled his shirt off, unable to help himself, and he stared at the discharge coming from his nipples. It was turning more and more milky, becoming whiter and looking more cum-like rather than just looking like pre-seed. He ran his fingers in circles around the little numbs, biting his lips as he realized how sensitive they were getting. Fuck, fuck, this was…

This was almost like his ‘sona. Almost like that time that he had played out a transformation text with someone. Fuck, how was…

Was it…

He turned around, looking over his shoulder. It was harder than it used to be, almost like his shoulders were bigger than they had been, but as he looked back at the tattoo, he realized that it had faded somewhat. Sinking into his skin, the black border had spread further, becoming red and black, and it was…it was half-gone, and disappearing more before his eyes.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

There was no answer, but as the tattoo faded into him, he swore that it was filling him with a sense of the same heat and warmth and [i]need[/i] that he had felt at the gym time and time again, always while looking at James. This…this was beyond just a weird chemical reaction. This was almost like magic.

And then, just as the last of the details of the tattoo disappeared, the colors of red and black swarmed out from the tattoo site, running out over his shoulders and down his arms and back, spreading everywhere that they could. He gasped as it felt like someone was pouring warm goo all over him, and yet, even as he got used to the feeling of the heat, it turned into something else. A deep itch, one that pressed out from his core, and he looked back again and saw fur.

Thick, soft, fur.

And beneath that, the start of wings.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: Two friends go for tattoos, only to realize that something is happening to them due to the tattoos.

Tags: M/solo, Nudity, Gym, Transformation, Cum, Cum Nipples, Cum Lactation, Human, Tattoo, Muscle, Series,