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“Are you sure you want to be here?” Dale’s expression was full of obvious concern, and he was clearly sticking very close to Roscoe, too close for comfort. It was a painful thing, seeing his friend treating him like he was so fragile...even if it was kind of true.

“You know they won’t let you buy anything for me, Dale. Even if this was that kind of shop, you getting busted wouldn’t make my life any easier.”

“Erm...well, maybe...but, you’re still not in great shape. There’s gotta be some way, like, you could FaceTime your card and I could show it to the clerk-”

“And they have no clue whether you’re actually buying anything for me or just using me to get weed. Besides, I’d rather see what there is and get recommendations myself...I can’t have you hanging around all the time doing everything for me, so I’m gonna have to figure this stuff out sooner or later. Maybe better before I’m too under the weather to get out.”

“I guess.” Dale certainly didn’t look like he wanted to accept that, but there were lots of things he didn’t want to accept, like his best friend of over a decade coming down with cancer at the age of 25. And a rather aggressive form of cancer, as well, though one that had been caught early; the prognosis was sketchy, but better than it might have been a month from then. “But you know you can ask me for anything, right? I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to help out, I don’t care, I could be taking it up the ass and I’ll tell him to pull out and let me go.”

Roscoe managed a weak smile. “I...hope it doesn’t come to that. Let’s just get something, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Man, I’ve never been in one of these before.” Dale’s eyes darted around all over, engrossed in the sea of green divided into neat little jars. He could hardly believe there was a marijuana dispensary so close to where they lived...convenient for Roscoe for sure, but he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t known about it, given that he was the one who had some experience with the green. If only they’d fully legalized it, then he could become a regular...maybe someday.

“Neither have I...not what I expected. Jesus, how many kinds of marijuana are there?”

“Well, I mean, there’s a million different types of peanut butter, too...it’s just one of those weird things, people want a ton of variety for what’s essentially the same product. Unless you lace it with LSD or something...but I don’t think they do that here.”

“I doubt it.” The two wandered up to the counter, where a professional-looking clerk of about 35, short hair and glasses, was standing almost waiting for them. “I don’t know anything about any of this stuff...do you think you could provide any recommendations?”

The clerk nodded. “Well, I can, though not any personal testimonials.”

“You don’t get an employee discount?” Dale cracked.

The clerk grinned back. “You won’t believe the irony, but this job drug-tests.”

“Get out. Really?”

“I guess they want to make sure that the fox isn’t in charge of the hen house, so to speak. Never really been my thing anyway, so it’s not a problem for me…” He looked over at Roscoe, giving him a quick look-over. “You, though, I think you could really use the help.”

“It’ll be a new experience for me, but with how awful I feel right now, I doubt it could get any worse. Do you get cancer patients in here a lot?”

“Sometimes. I think I get a lot more people who use it for recreation than treatment, but as long as they have the docs I can’t restrict the sale unless I have reason to believe they’re buying for someone else. As far as therapeutic effects go, I only have what I’ve heard. What’s bothering you most? Pain, nausea, appetite, mood, fatigue?”

That earned a sigh from Roscoe. “Lord, all of it, really. I guess the pain and nausea are the worst, though.”

The clerk nodded. “Well, most of the patients who come in swear by ACDC. It’s apparently supposed to be minimally psychoactive, so you’re still kind of yourself the whole time, but provides a huge amount of pain relief. For nausea, there’s a couple I’ve heard about, but Blueberry Diesel’s supposed to also be good for mood improvement, so you could kill two birds with one stone.”

“Too bad he can’t get all five,” remarked Dale. “That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it? Guess it’s too perfect.”

“Perhaps...but some people think it’s possible. We recently got a new variety in that’s supposed to work wonders for cancer patients, though I haven’t heard of anyone who’s used it before. It’s called Croc Pot.”

“Croc Pot? Where do they come up with these names? I swear, some of these are so silly...”

“Agreed, but there’s actually something behind this one. It’s a strain developed by some lab company, called Generdex. Apparently there’s some compounds in there synthesized from crocodile proteins and other stuff...that’s just what I heard from the provider, though, I don’t know anything more about it. He was swearing up and down that it would work miracles for cancer patients, though.”

“Huh...well, I guess it’s worth a try, to see whether it measures up. Can I get a bit of each of those, just in case?”

“Sure. You’ll have to let me know whether the Croc Pot’s any good, I’m curious to see whether there’s any value to it.”

Roscoe smiled weakly at the clerk. “I guess if I feel well enough to report back, that will probably be good news for it.”

---

By the time they returned home, Roscoe looked significantly more out of it than when he’d started. The treatments were really leaving him listless...at least, Dale was hoping it was the treatments. If it was the cancer doing that, then the situation was even worse. It was fortunate that he was around to help, he wasn’t sure Roscoe could handle being on his own right now.

“So...you wanna try it out now?” He had wavered a bit on asking the question; it was supposed to be helpful, but the way Roscoe seemed to be, perhaps having him get some sleep was a better idea.

But Roscoe shook his head. “I feel like crap, and I’m gonna wake up feeling like crap...if some of this stuff can give me a break from feeling like crap, I wanna know now. Besides, I know you’re eager to give it a shot, too, wouldn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“Ah...you should be concerned about yourself, not me. I won’t die if I don’t get to try out anything…fuck. That...that wasn’t what I meant to say…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Roscoe was too exhausted to take offense at every little thing. Dale was always a little fast and loose with his tongue, but he had a good heart and always felt bad after a slip-up…even when no one noticed or cared about. He’d always liked that about Dale, though...kind almost to a fault, and a fiercely devoted friend. Something Roscoe hadn’t really experienced himself; he was more of a distant person and had trouble keeping up with other people. His life had largely been characterized by fleeting friendships and casual acquaintanceships that left him just enough social contact to not be a recluse, but not nearly enough to be considered outgoing. That Dale had insisted on putting up with him all these years, well, it meant a lot to him, more than he knew how to express. “Let’s just get this thing done, yeah? I’m fine, I don’t really want to sleep right now if I don’t have to.”

“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll get everything set up.” Dale felt horribly embarrassed; as if Roscoe needed more reminders of what was going on. He set to work getting the marijuana set up, for both of them; what he was doing probably wasn’t legal, but he wanted to know what Roscoe was feeling when he was getting high, even if technically he already had some familiarity with it. Part of it was idle curiosity, part of it was wanting to make sure he could relate to Roscoe’s feelings and possibly use that to his benefit somehow. Maybe that was kind of stretching it, but it was enough in his mind.

It was quite a length for a friend...and Dale couldn’t think of any others he’d go that length for. Something about Roscoe was kind of special to him...in fact, he would have gone as far as to say that he had an attraction to his friend. And for someone who got friendly easily but romantic never, that was a difficult thing to parse. He’d never told anyone about this, certainly not Roscoe himself...but there had to be some outside suspicion, considering how much time he spent around Roscoe and some of the things he did. Sure, a couple people had asked if he was a boyfriend...after all, Dale was gay, that certainly wasn’t any secret. He wasn’t sure if Roscoe was, though...he never seemed all that eager to talk about romance and relationships, and Dale had never seen him with a partner. It meant an opening, but one he just didn’t have the guts to take, not with the chance that it could change things for the worse if he was wrong...

Getting the joints set up wasn’t exactly an easy thing, but following the provided instructions, he eventually did a serviceable job. One of the joints was for Roscoe, the Croc Pot that had been recommended to him; he’d rolled one for himself as well, one of the other types that had been given to them. Sorry, Mom...I know you told me not to use drugs. But I won’t make a habit out of it...I just want to be there with him for this, in every sense.

He brought the joints back to Roscoe’s room, where his friend was laying on the bed, a grimace on his face. Dale was pretty sure he knew what that look meant. “It hurts?”

“Yeah...getting worse. Hope this helps.”

“So do I. You can let me know if you feel anything wrong, you know that?”

“Wouldn’t dream of not...smoking this stuff is supposed to be helpful, eh?” Roscoe turned the joint in his hands and looked at it. “It looks like something that’d make you sick instead.”

“I sure hope it doesn’t. I’ll be right here with you, though.”

A wry chuckle from Roscoe. “Joining me in partaking. Hopefully we won’t need a driver.”

---

For one person who had never smoked anything, joints included, and another who had other things on his mind, it was kind of an awkward start. But once they settled in and got past the initial uncertainty, things seemed to go pretty well. The relaxation hit pretty quickly, dulling the early inhibitions and getting them clearly into the high. For Roscoe, it seemed to be pretty effective fairly quickly; the expression of pain was fading from his features, and he was more upright than he had been in a while. He seemed to be pretty blissful as well, relaxed and at ease...none of the stress of the illness on him like it had been before.

Dale was feeling extremely relaxed himself, and his own stress was melting away nicely. Maybe it was the drug, but maybe it was also seeing Roscoe feeling better...to know something was effective in relieving his friend, if only for a little while. But the weed was probably a good part of it, too. “Man...I can see...why people get addicted to this stuff.”

“Mm...yeah...they say it ain’t, but...sure feels like it would be.” Roscoe’s breath was still a bit labored, but he definitely seemed less affected. “It really does...seem like it’s working, though. Feelin’...pretty good, all things...considered.”

“Yeah? That’s good, I’m glad...jus’ want you to feel good, that’s what matters.”

There was a moment of silence, before Roscoe spoke up again. “I love you, man.”

That was almost enough to knock Dale out of his buzz...almost. “Whuh?”

“I love you. More than...more than just...more than just a friend...though, that too. But…” Roscoe wasn’t sure why he was saying all this now, but didn’t bother trying to stop it. “Just...never really know what love was...and then I realized it...and felt kinda dumb that I didn’t notice. You’re always there for me, more than you have to be...and I just, I love...having you around. I wanted to be close to you, and...you know, I don’t...usually feel that way about people. Heh, wish I’d known sooner...yeah, I didn’t...really realize until just before all this…” Roscoe shifted, laying back and closing his eyes. “Mmm...probably a shitty thing...to drop this on you when I dunno if I’m even gonna live much longer…”

“Don’t...say that, man.” Dale’s head was in a whirl and it wasn’t just the drugs. “You know I love you, too, more than just a friend…”

“Yeah...y’know, I always...knew there was something more with you...if I’d known my own stuff, maybe...maybe we coulda done something…”

“We still can. After you beat...after you beat this beast...I’d be more than happy…”

“Mm. If…if I can...”

“You can. You will. You gotta…”

“Just ‘cuz I gotta, doesn’t mean that much...lotsa people gotta beat it to live, and lots don’t…’specially this kind...but...yeah, I...don’t think it woulda been right, not to say something…even though it sucks...”

“It’s good...you’ll get better, and…” Dale trailed off, blinking at Roscoe. He’d undressed before they’d gotten into the deed, and was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, ensuring that it was easy to see his body. And maybe it was a trick of the light, but he could swear Roscoe’s skin was turning green. “Eh? Ros...you, uh, feeling all right?”

“Mm...yeah...really nice…” His voice sure sounded fine...in fact he sounded more blissful than when he started. Dale wondered if he should chalk it up to imagination...maybe he was just thinking that Roscoe’s skin was changing, getting greener and starting to take on a scaly appearance, traveling down his chest and spreading to his limbs. Or maybe it was the weed he was smoking giving him hallucinations that Roscoe was starting to get bigger, his body filling out from its former sickly, wasted look into something more...normal and healthy. Or beyond that…he wasn’t just getting thicker, he looked to be getting taller, too.

And that was just the start. Now Dale was seeing his friend’s shape start to distort as well...strange sounds were coming from his body as he saw the feet shift, the ankle creaking into a more raised shape and his toes melding into four and growing long claws. His head was changing shape too, face pushing outward as nose and mouth merged into a lengthening snout. His boxers were suddenly torn away as a tail pushed out from his rear, his body lifting to make space for it...his groin had already smoothed out, no obvious sign of his cock or balls, though there was a sizable slit in the front that was clearly glistening with wetness.

It might have freaked Dale out more if he hadn’t smoked up, but even in his addled state, he was still in a bit of a thrall. No, there was no way this was just his imagination...his imagination couldn’t come up with something like this, could it? Or maybe it could...he had to admit, he’d always had a bit of an odd fascination with this sort of thing. He hadn’t really totally understood why scaly creatures appealed to him...it was something he hadn’t shared with anyone and rarely even indulged in. Was his mind teasing him with the fetish he didn’t even want to acknowledge?

If it was, it was doing a damn good job of it. Roscoe was getting pretty huge, his height surging - what had been about six foot two had surged past seven and was closing on eight, and his body was not just filling out, but becoming powerfully muscled, thick and imposing, high definition all the way down his body. His skin had changed completely to a tough, bumpy, scaly hide that looked like it could withstand bullets. His limbs had also finished their change, his legs converted to a digitigrade stance with wide clawed feet, his arms and hands mostly the same shape but with slightly short, clawed fingers. The several-feet-long tail thumped underneath him, thudding heavily against the mattress.

Dale’s eyes traveled to Roscoe’s head, where the most drastic reformation was on its tail end. His head was distinctly crocodilian, eyes facing forward and raised slightly near the top and a long jaw with vile-looking fangs making up the rest of it. It might have been terrifying, if not for the clearly docile purrs and growls coming from Roscoe...his body was changing completely and yet he looked not even remotely disturbed, like it was a perfectly natural thing. The changes slowed to a stop as the shape reached its natural conclusion, and the growth of Roscoe’s body ceased as well...at a bit over eight feet tall, heavily muscled, what had to be three hundred plus pounds of raw power where a frail human had laid before.

“Roscoe?”

The croc arose, sitting upright, looking down at Dale. His eyes seemed unfocused, narrowed...he didn’t seem all that aware of his changes, probably still high. It was hard to tell if he was grinning or that was just the shape of his jaws. “Mm...you look...good.”

“Wha? R-roscoe...y-you’re not...uh...d-don’t eat me…”

“Heh heh...don’t feel hungry...not that kinda hungry, anyway…” A huge arm reached out and grabbed Dale, and easily tossed him onto the bed. Before Dale could process what was happening, the hand had grabbed the waist of his shorts and underwear and pulled them down off his legs in a rather swift, decided motion. He yelped a bit, scrambling to get his eyes back on Roscoe to settle him down...but his voice died in his throat as he saw something new.

Between the croc’s legs, jutting out where there had only been a slit before, was an absolute monster of a cock. It had a bestial shape, a pointed tip which rapidly filled out to a harrowing girth, it dripped profusely and had a powerful musky scent which made Dale’s head spin further. There was no way it wasn’t at least a foot and a half long, probably more, and at least twice as thick as the widest human he’d ever taken, and there was a rather extensive library of those. It appeared in no way designed to fit a human body. And Dale couldn’t have wanted it more.

He struggled his shirt off, and then flipped over and exposed his rear end. The thought of the thing breaking him open and destroying him never passed through; at this point he still wasn’t even sure if this whole change was real, all he really knew was that Roscoe wanted him and he wasn’t about to say no. As if he could, once those powerful hands came down on him, holding him in place and ensuring he wasn’t going anywhere until things were finished. He felt the tip press against his rear, a familiar sensation that he was prepared for...what he wasn’t prepared for was for Roscoe to launch forward and bury the whole thing in his ass in one fell swoop.

Dale yelled into the bed. That had hurt! He felt enormous, he felt every bit as big as he looked and then some...it might have been intolerable, but years of experience and drug-dulled pain receptors blunted the blow, made him feel more pressured than agonized. Roscoe didn’t really wait for him, either, pulling out and then slamming back in, and then repeating the action...his pace was slow, measured, but every thrust felt crazy hard, all that muscle showing off its potential without reservation.

But...somehow, the sensations changed, rather rapidly. Liquid was pouring into him, soothing the ache that had cropped up, making the pain die back down to nothing after a couple minutes. And the stretch started to feel good...he didn’t know how he was handling it, but he didn’t care much, his body was being distorted and it felt amazing. His cries quickly turned to moans as he relaxed further and spread himself more, encouraging the croc to go to town on him, fingers clutching the covers as he felt himself get stuffed over and over.

Roscoe’s mind still wasn’t registering much - all he really had in his mind was that Dale’s ass felt better than he ever expected, ridiculously tight and pleasurable, and that Dale was giving him every indication that he loved it. He picked up the pace a bit, starting to really hammer in, pounding Dale for all he could, precum gushing in and making the thrusts easier. He’d never realized how good sex could be...Dale couldn’t have known, but it was his first time with anyone else, his hand the only other experience he had, and he couldn’t have imagined it with anyone else. He wanted to make this special...though, maybe it was a bit late now, already in the thick of things. Well, perhaps he could figure out special later...making Dale feel incredible was a good enough goal.

And he was achieving it, intentionally or not. Dale was now in heaven, any distasteful sensation long since banished. The croc’s fluids were working their magic, making him more accommodating...he could swear he could feel it buzzing inside him and making him stretchier, and welcomed it without regard for any other consequences. All he wanted was to feel that big dick punish him, batter his prostate into meek submission, bring him to a resounding orgasm...and he was almost there already, his body aflame with lust and being given just what it so desired.

Roscoe was close as well, the novelty and the energy of his changed body driving him to the peak rapidly. With a guttural, crocodilian hiss, he slammed in and released, pumping great gushes of seed into Dale. The huge glut of hot fluid sent Dale over quickly after, his own seed squirted into the bedcovers, staining them white...stains which rapidly became more extensive as Roscoe’s cum pulsed out of him, covering both of them rather liberally as well. Dale could feel the grip on him tighten, claws poking more harshly against him as he was filled, and filled, and filled...it felt like an endless rush, a geyser loading him up with more cum than all his previous partners combined in his recollection. He could feel the weight of it growing inside him, stopping just short of swelling him...it took an age, but he felt the pulses stop, his ass dripping around the giant staff in his rear, the fullness insane and so, so delightful…

He felt Roscoe pull out of him, and a fair bit of that seed rush out behind him, making a huge mess on the bed. As the claws left him, he flopped over onto his back, feeling a bit more relief in that position...and giving him a good look at Roscoe and his massive dick. It was still hard to believe that that thing had been inside him...it took him a bit to realize that Roscoe was looking down at his own body with a mixture of confusion and bemusement. “Dude...did I...turn into a fucking alligator?”

“Heh...I think...it’s a crocodile...for Croc Pot, right?”

“Rrr...yeah, that makes more sense. Heh...wild.” Part of Roscoe thought he should be reacting more, but his brain didn’t seem to care too much at the moment. He growl-snickered a bit absently as he started to pick up on the size of his cock and where it had just been. “Well...shit. You took all that?”

Dale nodded breathlessly. “Y-yeah...it was...fucking amazing…”

“Nice. I’m still pretty horny...you wanna go again?”

Dale responded by spreading his legs wider, more cum spurting out of him as he presented himself. “Fuck...yes…”

Roscoe let out another growling laugh as he thumped his arms down on the bed around Dale once again. His tip, coated in his own seed, caught the human’s ass once more, and with a grunt he slammed in fully once again. This time there was zero pain on Dale’s part, just pure bliss as he arched his head back and let out a heavenly cry. Both got lost in the haze as they fucked again, for the second of what would be more times than either would be able to recall afterward...

---

Two weeks later found Dale helping to clean up around Roscoe’s house. There was plenty of debris around from their building projects - making new furniture and modifying some existing ones to accommodate Roscoe’s new frame. Perhaps a little fatalistic, but from the info they’d looked up online about strange transformations from Generdex products, the prevailing prognosis was “Get Used To It.” Roscoe was visiting a clinic of theirs to get a full work-up, but he’d already pretty much resigned himself to staying that way.

Though, as Dale was thinking about it, ‘resigned’ really wasn’t the right word. Honestly, Roscoe seemed...pretty happy about it. Or at least content. It was odd, Dale wouldn’t have thought such a drastic change in body would go over well. If it was him, he’d probably be freaking out...but Roscoe was having a brush with death, maybe he couldn’t really spare any more anxiety to think about his shape. He had seemed more energized lately, though...if nothing else, the Croc Pot had seemed to improve his condition, side effects aside. The dullness post-transformation had disappeared the next day, meaning it had probably been more of an effect of the drug than the change. And his libido had shot up, well beyond even his pre-illness state...a good thing for Dale that he seemed to have plenty of space inside him to handle what he was given. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t question it - anything that made him able to take that behemoth was welcome in his eyes.

He jumped a bit as he heard the door open. Roscoe entered, looking about as bright as Dale had ever seen him. He still couldn’t quite get over how big his friend was now, they’d had to kind of improvise with clothing initially, but Dale had managed to get out and buy some heavily upsized duds for him for this trip. And even that looked a bit small on him now. “Hey! How did it go? Did they give you any idea if you could go back?”

“Nope. The transformation’s a one-way street.” Roscoe certainly didn’t sound upset about it. “It sounds like they’re working on some things that are reversible, but anything from the stuff they’ve already made can’t be undone. Not that that’s too bad...you know, they have a couple other changed people on staff there, and they look pretty happy. Doesn’t really seem like it’s a tragedy or anything.”

“I still don’t know how you or they handle it...I’d be going nuts. And not being able to go back...I mean, as if you didn’t have enough to deal with already…” Dale’s voice trailed off as he saw Roscoe grinning broadly. “What’s with you?”

“It’s gone.”

“...Huh?”

“They did a full work-up. I’m cancer-free.”

Dale started. “W-wait...what? You’re...you’re cured? But...I thought they said...that you needed months of treatments…”

“I know, right? But when I was at Generdex, they said that the compounds they used, it...basically, it used the cancer to fuel the changes. Kind of co-opting the disease cells and converting them, and at the same time basically turning off the cancer triggers with the genetic alterations they make. And it repaired the damage from the chemo, too. The doctor there said I was the picture of health! He said that they were designing new varieties for other patients, giving them a new lease on life...he said I’m not the only success story, I’m probably gonna be going to meet some of them later!”

“My god...that’s...that’s amazing news!” Dale threw him arms around Roscoe, and the gator lifted him up in an embrace. God, was he strong, Dale felt almost crushed by his grip, but it was a good tension. “No more worrying about dying, now you’ve got years to look forward to! Though, I don’t know how everyone else is going to respond...how’re you going to get work now?”

Roscoe chuckled deeply. “I had to ask about that too...Generdex is offering positions if I can’t find anything else or don’t feel comfortable. But I think I’m probably pretty well suited for something physical now...construction, hard labor, or maybe being a bodyguard...who’s gonna mess with an eight-foot crocodile?”

“I guess not many people, unless they’re drunk or stupid. But Generdex owes you, you’ll probably get the best deal from them...I think you should take it.”

“That’s kind of my thinking, too. They’re also offering residence in one of their communities, good housing that’s not too expensive and not too out of the way. I’m thinking I might take them up on that...it might be easier, at first, being around people who’ve gone through the same thing, and it might take some time before I don’t get strange looks around here. I think I might want to have someone with me who I know, though, and who I might enjoy living with...”

It took a moment for that to click with Dale. “Ah, you’re...inviting me? You want me to move in with you?”

Roscoe nodded. “Why not? I think we both accidentally confessed a love for each other that night...I don’t see why we shouldn’t build off of that. And since we’ve already shown that you can handle every inch of my croc cock, I don’t think compatibility is going to be much of an issue.”

Dale’s cheeks turned a bit pink. “Aheh...I guess...you’re right about that. Am I gonna have to change to fit in?”

“Nope, you’re totally welcome to come as you are. There’s a number of humans there, in fact many of them partners of other transformees. I think you’ll find some common ground with a lot of them.” Roscoe gave Dale a gentle rub on the back. “I know I’m kinda springing it on you fast, you don’t have to say yes right away, or even at all if you don’t want…”

“I know...but, you know what, why the hell not? I’m not getting anywhere where I am anyway...maybe I need a change of pace. And I really do love you...and I was already practically gonna be living with you anyway, I think it’ll be a lot more fun without the cloud of death hanging over our heads.”

“Ha! You can say that again!” That wide crocodile grin Roscoe had was something Dale had a feeling he was going to get used to. And it wasn’t the only wide thing he’d be getting from his new lover again and again in the coming months…