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The Bike Rack Diner

Written by Leo_Todrius

Commissioned by Loremaster 22

The eternal rush of cars and trucks on the freeway, to and fro, back and forth at all hours of the day and night. When one was on the road, it never seemed that out of the ordinary, but once you pulled off of it, it became easier to see it as the ceaseless river of vehicles that it was. For Zack Creek, he was desperate to have a break from the traffic and he was desperate enough to eat anywhere. His silver sedan drove down the off ramp, curved up the road and pulled into the parking lot of a diner he'd seen from a distance on the freeway, the Bike Rack Diner.

The sedan pulled into a parking spot and turned off, the engine clicking and tinking as it cooled down. The door eased open and a young man emerged. Zack was in his early twenties, his black hair kept short. He was five foot ten, lean, and dressed in a simple dark blue suit with a gray shirt underneath. His polished black shoes seemed in stark contrast moving across the rough cement of the parking lot.

Zack's stomach rumbled with hunger as he made his way to the diner door, pausing just long enough to look at the line of amazing motorcycles outside. There were countless styles and sizes, all huge and lovingly cared for. The twenty year old opened the door and stepped into the diner. As he made his way up to the register area to be seated, he noticed the place was a little run down, but not too bad. The walls were covered with wood panels that were a bit faded. The tables had a few gouges out of them, but they were clean. It wasn't the best and it wasn't the worst. What was the best was the smell... He could smell steak, seasonings, shepherd's pie... good, hearty, wholesome food.

"Hey there big fella, can I offer you a booth or a table?" The cheerful male voice caught Zack by surprise. He'd never been called big before in his life. He turned to face the waiter only to see a barely eighteen year old blond boy with a handlebar mustache that seemed too advanced for his age. Zack looked around the diner, seeing several burly men with robust beards, chowing away on food here and there. Zack considered his options.

"A booth would be good, it'll let me stretch out a bit after the long drive." Zack said. The blond teen grinned and grabbed a menu.

"Life on the road can be tough at times, but we'll get you taken care of. Right this way sir." The waiter boy said, pivoting on his feet and moving down the wide aisle. Zack followed after, feeling an odd sense of relief. The customer service was great and the aisles were roomy. It was a lot less cramped than some of the restaurants back in town. The waiter stopped at a booth in the back corner with a good view of the motorcycles and the freeway outside. Zack slid down into the booth, getting comfortable.

"I think I'm ready to order right away, though forgive me if I get things a little wrong without looking." Zack said. The young mustached waiter grinned wide.

"I like a man that knows what he wants." he grinned, pulling out his paper pad.

"Steak, medium rare... Fries with a side of ranch... And I guess a big baked potato if you have one." Zack said. The waiter nodded with a grin.

"Coming right up sir." he said before he darted away. Zack watched the waiter go, the way he moved with such speed and energy. Something tingled at the back of his mind, but Zack leaned back and spread his legs out under the table, looking out at the highway. All those cars, so busy, in such a hurry. His whole life was packed up n the back of his Sedan on the off chance that taking an assignment in a far flung office might help his career. It felt a little crazy now, but maybe that was just his hunger talking.

Zack's attention changed to the interior of the restaurant. He saw his waiter standing on his tip toes to order something from the chef in the back who was, reassuringly, wearing a huge beard net over his zz-top like beard. In fact, Zack soon realized there wasn't anyone in the diner other than him without at least some form of facial hair... and he and the waiter were the only guys that weren't huge. There were bearded biker men from their twenties all the way through their late fifties, but they all seemed well fed and content, eating their food, drinking their drinks.

"Here you are sir." The waiter's voice once again caught Zack off guard. He hadn't even heard him come up. He turned and looked before him to see the biggest steak he'd ever seen in his life, dominating a platter. There was an entire separate plate for the fries, a bowl of ranch, and another bowl with a baked potato loaded with toppings. The waiter lowered a big mug of amber liquid onto the table as well.

"How did you even carry all this over here?" Zack said before hesitating, "I didn't order a drink, did I? What is this?" he asked, looking at the foam on the top, "Is this beer?"

"Yes sir, but don't worry. With such a hearty meal, it shouldn't impact your ability to ride." The waiter said. Zack hesitated for a moment. The waiter was so well meaning, and kind of cute too... in a non-gay way of course.

"Thank you, thank you for everything." Zack said. The waiter grinned brightly and started moving around to check on the other patrons. Zack grabbed his knife and fork and cut into the steak. It was surprisingly tender and had just the right amount of pink inside. He brought up a fork full of meat and took a bite. It practically melted in his mouth. He moaned and started to chew and savor the flavor.

The juices hit his tongue like a salve, melting away the weariness from being on the road. His shoulders relaxed and his legs stopped aching. He took another bite and another, but it wasn't enough. It all tasted so good. He forced himself to stop attacking the steak and dipped a fry in the ranch before sliding it into his mouth. The ranch was spicier than he expected, seasoned with some great seasonings. It was wonderful, but it did make him thirsty. He grabbed the mug and lifted it up. The small amount of head at the top rested against his upper lip as he tipped it back, the beer flowing over his tongue.

It was tart, sharp, but oddly earthy. Zack surprised himself by taking a gulp, then another, then a third before he set it down. The foam clung to his upper lip, but Zack didn't wipe it off... A strange, throbbing heat was spreading down his throat and into his stomach, settling into his groin. Beneath the table, blood was rushing into his shaft, forcing it to harden and grow, stretching out, elongating in his underwear. A bulge was forming in his pants.

A dull, odd grin crossed Zack's face as he finally licked the foam off his upper lip. As the tongue swished the foam away, it revealed soft black hairs emerging from the flesh. Zack went back to his steak, tearing into the meat like an animal. He grunted and murmured, then took four fries at once. It was all so good... but his suit was starting to feel confining. The young man didn't even bother to wipe the grease off his hands as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and nearly wrestled it off himself, tossing it in a heap in the corner of the booth.

Zack felt like he'd never been so hungry before in his life. He grabbed his spoon and dug into the baked potato, bringing that starchy, hearty food into his mouth. He gnashed it with his teeth before he swallowed it down, grabbing his mug and tipping it bag. As he guzzled the beer down, that warm throbbing spread outward into his muscles, his digits, and his brain. The urgency to reach his destination started to fade away. He was living in the moment.

"Do you need a refill sir?" The waiter asked. Once again, Zack had been surprised, but a grin crossed his mouth as his mustache filled in all the way and black stubble started crossing his cheeks.

"You always take such good care of me. What's your name, boy?" Zack asked, a shiver running down his spine. He kind of liked how the kid always called him sir, but calling him boy pushed it one step further.

"Quin, sir." The waiter replied. Zack growled happily at that, "Fill it up." he said. Quin poured a pitcher of beer, filling up the mug to the brim again before sauntering away. Zack watched the way the waiter's hips moved, his ass so pert and bubbly. He licked his lips a little before hesitating. Somewhere at the back of his mind he thought he remembered something about the rules of minors serving alcohol... but for the life of him he couldn't remember the specifics, and it hardly seemed to matter now.

The platter of fries never seemed to empty no matter how many he ate, but all of that incoming mass certainly was going somewhere specific. Zack felt himself filling up, but the flavor was just too good to stop. His stomach had been pulsing, feeling like it was hitting its limit... until it stretched a little - and then a little more. Zack murmured, his button up shirt getting tight.

With greasy fingers, he popped the buttons one at a time until he got half way up his shirt and his stomach suddenly protruded, rounded, distended. He looked down at it, surprised by how hairy it was... but it was kind of hot, like the other bikers around the diner. Zack ran his hands up and down the bulge. With his shirt open, he didn't feel so full anymore and he went back to ravaging his meal, tearing into it.

Minutes ticked by, then almost a half an hour, and with each bite and each drink, Zack had been piling up the changes. The stubble on his cheeks had filled in the rest of the way, meeting the mustache forming on his upper lip. His short shorn hair had grown out shaggier, and his belly had rounded significantly. The sleeves of his shirt had grown tight as his arms thickened, and the bulge in his pants had grown obscenely, almost inhumanly large.

"Sir, can I get you anything else?" Quin's voice broke Zack's daze. He turned and looked at the handlebar mustached waiter. Zack's head spun. He'd never seen such an obedient boy, such a good boy... and he wanted him.

"How about I give you something to drink... under the table?" Zack murmured. He'd never been gay before, but that didn't occur to him now. He was the sir, and he wanted this to be his boy. Quin licked his lips and looked around nervously before leaving his pitcher of beer next to Zack's food. The waiter dropped to his knees and crawled under the table, situating himself between Zack's legs.

Zack reached out and grabbed the pitcher itself, bringing it to his lips and tipping it back. The frothy cold beer poured over his tongue and down his throat as Quin unzipped his pants, getting a face full of bulging underwear as a reward. He struggled with the button until it released, and then he started to peel back the underwear.

What was revealed beneath was a hard, hot, humid shaft above a thick, dense forest of black hair. Quin reached up and began to stroke the shaft, feeling the give and take in the skin around the base before he pulled it down, looking at the plump, fat cock head. He leaned in and parted his lips, his tongue slathering the tip before he took it into his mouth, his handlebar mustache framing the cock plunging in. He bobbed his head back and forth, slowly at first, but picking up speed.

Zack had a half drunk, half horny, half lidded gaze of pure pleasure as he was sucked off. He'd polished off the pitcher of beer and was eating the last few pieces of his steak as the changes kicked into full gear. The former business man looked almost nothing like his former self, and that was changing fast. The sound of straining fabric came as the sleeves of his shirt burst, letting out meaty hunks of arms. The flesh was hairy on the forearms, but a strange discoloration started to appear on his shoulder, taking on the shape of a ram's head with a long, thick goatee and pierced horn.

Soft, wet, sloppy squelching noises were audible as Zack was sucked off, but he was actually proud that anyone walking by could hear him with his boy. He reached one fat, hairy hand under the table, tangling his fingers in the blond's hair, forcing his head deeper around his huge cock as he used his free hand to eat the last of his fries. The spicy burning flavor filled his mouth but he welcomed it, throwing his head back, feeling his long black hair cascade across his back as inch after inch of beard pushed out of his face.

Zack's mustache curled over his upper lip, hiding it from view as the hair on his cheeks and chin stretched out to six inches, then eight, then ten. The beard dropped down until it tickled his collar bone. His belly was huge, his arms were huge, and even his spine had stretched out taller, his shoulders wider. He had to be at least six foot four now, but all that mass couldn't rest on puny feet.

As Quin continued to suck and slurp, using his tongue to bathe and coat every inch of Zack's shaft, he could feel the man's feet surge and throb in his dress shoes until the laces started to strain, pulling wide. The tongue got squished up, the leather struggled, and the laces snapped. The shoe unfurled, practically peeling around the huge feet that grew out of them, stretching longer and wider and thicker.

Zack let out a burp of satisfaction. He had enjoyed his meal, but he was going to enjoy his desert even more. He grabbed onto the waiter's head, pulled him tight, and then felt his enormous balls well up, his prostate throbbing, every part of his body working in tandem to release the biggest load of his gay life into Quin's waiting mouth.

The blond boy guzzled the seed down like a hungry baby bird, taking it in, sealing his sir's fate. A jolt of electricity raced through Zack's body as he felt his reality start to warp around him steadily. The light coming through the windows seemed to shift and strain, shadows outside warping and stretching. His torn gray button up shirt started to shift, getting heavier and thicker as it turned into denim. His slacks turned into black jeans, and the exploded dress shoes disappeared entirely, well worn boots appearing on the floor, discarded next to the two men.

Outside, the silver sedan vanished like smoke on the wind, replaced with an immense chrome and black motorcycle with an odd seat configuration, allowing someone small to sit in front of the much wider, more comfortable seat. With all of his possessions gone, Zack's life itself was unraveling and re-threading into a different configuration. No longer had he been the perfect student, he'd been the rebel... Skipping class, smoking with the cool boys, and learning to fuck and suck until he grew into a man.

His first mustache, his first boyfriend, his first hog... Without pesky college getting in the way, he'd had a life of sin and debauchery, living life on the road, being a creature of habit and instinct. Joining the Road Rams had given him a source of income and a reliable route, but other than making runs for them, he was as free as the wind, and something always brought him back to the Bike Rack diner. His huge hand pulled Quin off his spent cock and the blond waiter crawled out from the table, standing up, blushing, cum on his mustache.

"Can I get anything else for you si-" Quin was interrupted as Zack pulled him down and kissed him soundly, filling his mouth with tongue. He squirmed and moaned in the kiss, his own bulge forming beneath his apron. Zack reached out, obscenely groping and palming the eighteen year old's member. He squirmed and shivered until the kiss ended.

"How long until your break?" Zack asked.

"T-t-ten minutes." Quin replied, as horny as hell and well fed.

"That's no good... You want to quit this job and ride with me?" Zack asked. Quin's heart fluttered and he nodded eagerly.

"Yes sir, I'd love that." Quin said. Zack grinned and pushed his cock hastily into his pants, pulled on his boots and stood up, throwing a wad of wrinkled up cash onto the table before he took Quin's hand and led him out into the parking lot. He moved over to his bike and sat down, whipping his cock back out. It stood tall and proud, meaty and ready. QUin blushed but threw his apron down onto the parking lot and grabbed his jeans, tugging them down until his perky bubble ass was bare. He climbed up with Zack's help and settled down onto the shaft, exhaling slowly.

"You are so big sir..." He whispered. Zack grinned at that and kicked his bike into gear. The powerful vibration surged up their bodies, through his shaft and into Qun's ass. Quin moaned sharply at that, settling in onto the cock, letting Zack's arms come around him, to hold him, to support him. The biker pulled back and then pushed off, the two roaring down the road and heading to the onramp, moving up onto the highway and picking up speed.

---

The years ticked by, one by one. The Bike Rack kept getting visitors, though the wood panel walls faded more and more and more gouges appeared in the table. Something about the food kept people coming back no matter how long it had been. The growl of two heavy hogs came, echoing down the road as they pulled off the freeway, curved up the road, and pulled into the parking lot. The bikes took up almost as much space as a car, so they took the spots to the side.

Two heavy spiked boots set down onto the ground, size sixteen. The towering pillar of a man climbing off stretched a bit, running fingers through his immense, long, thick black beard peppered with a few streaks of gray. His long black hair was tied into a ponytail and kept in place by a navy blue and silver bandanna. Heavy gold rings hung from his ears, and his tattoos had evolved into long sleeves of artwork.

Zack's belly was round and thick, sticking out from his well worn biker vest. His pants were stained with bug splatters and splatters of other sorts, but he didn't care. He was a free spirit, living years of the good life. He turned, looking over to his fellow rider. Quin had grown up to be quite the man as well. He was six foot one, a long flowing blond beard worthy of a viking. His gold earrings weren't quite as big as Zack's, but they were present. He had never gotten much more than a paunch, but his arms were strong and his body was fit.

"You remember this place, boy?" Zack asked. Even though they were only six years apart, he'd never let Quin forget his place. Quin moved over, reaching up to rub Zack's belly like a budha.

"How could I forget? Our first date?" he chuckled. Zack grinned at that and kissed his husband's lips, their beards meshing together. Quin leaned in, humping his lover a bit before they reluctantly broke the kiss. The two crossed the parking lot and moved inside, seeing that the building hadn't changed all that much in the years. A sparkle caught Quin's eyes and he crouched down, peeking under one of the tables.

"Oh my god, that gum is still there." he chuckled.

"Okay, that's gross." Zack smirked, unable to keep up his brave facade.

"You're telling me, I was supposed to get that off before I ended my shift." Quin grinned.

"Welcome to the Bike Rack." came a deep voice of a man roughly their age. He didn't have the full beard of a biker, though his red sideburns were thick enough to make comic book superheroes jealous, "Would you like a booth or a table?" he asked. Quin looked to Zack and Zack grinned wide.

"Booth." he said with purpose. The waiter nodded and led them down the aisles which seemed a lot tighter than Zack remembered. With his swagger and girth, he filled it up pretty easily. They reached the end of the aisle, the corner table looking over the bikes and the highway. Zack sat down and Quin squeezed in across from him. The two men gazed into each other's eyes.

"Can I get you started with any drinks or anything?" he asked. Zack grinned.

"I'm ready to order now." he said, looking at Quin, "Two pitchers of your finest beer... Two steaks, rare. Those fantastic steak fries, and an overloaded baked potato." he said. The waiter jotted it down and looked at Quin. Quin grinned wider.

"I'll have the same." he said. The waiter nodded with a grin.

"I'll have that right up for you." he said, moving off to the kitchen. Quin reached under the table and started to grope Zack. Zack growled and murmured, looking at his lover.

"Starting already? WE haven't even gotten our food." he smirked.

"I can't help it, this place really takes me back... It was so exciting when yu just took me from my shift and changed my life forever." Quin said. Zack was quiet for a moment before his smile grew.

"I could say the same thing to you, lover." he said. Quin froze at that for a moment, his mouth hanging slightly agape.

"Wh... What?" he asked. Zack chuckled softly, reaching across the table to start combing his fingers through Quin's beard.

"Oh don't worry lover. Even though I figured it out, I'm damn appreciative." Zack said, "There were a few holes here and there over the years, things that took reality a moment to catch up on as it filled in the cracks. I know I was a little pipsqueak nothing, and you served me up a whole new life. It's just what I would have ordered, if I knew it was on the menu."

"Oh my god..." Quin whispered before blushing.

"So why did you pick me?" he asked after a moment. Quin shifted a bit with a grin.

"I'd... learned the secret of the seasoning when I first started working here, it's been a restaurant tradition since the Bike Rack opened. It was fun seeing people shift and change, but you... I gave you an extra helping. You were handsome, and sweet, and you seemed to really be respecting the place despite being from another sort of life." Quin said.

"So I was special?" Zack asked. Quin resumed his groping under the table.

"You were more than special, you were the one." he whispered. Zack grinned at that and leaned across the table, kissing his lover again, their tongues wrestling in furious, furtive movements. No matter where the road would take them, where life would lead them, they would always have one another. Their love had been real even if reality itself had been warped... But in the back of his mind, Zack started to wonder just what would happen if they ordered a jar of that seasoning to go, and took the adventures with them.