Changes setting in

Nick closed his eyes as a burst of hot water caressed his body. Whatever stiffness he felt from sleep had well and truly subsided and in its place was a kind of supercharged enthusiasm, every muscle in his body felt like a spring ready to bounce and take on the day.

Towering himself off he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Perhaps it was a trick of the morning light, but Nick was fairly certain he could see the makings of definition creeping into his abdomen, arms and shoulders. He'd put more time into exercise of late, sure, but he hadn't expected these kinds of gains for a few weeks, if not months.

There was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, a feeling that something was wrong. It was liking trying to grasp at the details of a dream after waking. He regarded the six pack that was forming. He felt strong, like he was a king in his castle and that feeling began to override his concerns.

Perhaps it was just his genetics working in his favour and there was nothing more to it than that.

Downstairs Armond had entered the kitchen and began to fill his plate with pancakes, drowning them in maple syrup before digging in. Wearing only a t-shirt and tight fitting shorts his long legs were stretched out on display, shaved smooth and moisturised as was his morning tradition.

He felt Eric frowning at him and lifted his head from his breakfast, "Something wrong?"

Eric's eyes ran up and down Armond's body, taking note of his attire with a deepening frown. "You're not going outside wearing that."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Eric replied, hands on his childbearinghips, "if you want people to think you're a whore."

A flush of embarrassment flooded through Armond's mind that was quickly replaced by outrage. How many times had Eric tried to get him to dress more 'appropriately'? Armond had told him time and again that it wasn't the 1950s anymore and that he could wear whatever he liked.

"There is nothing wrong with showing a little skin," Armond countered, "if it were up to you I'd be dressed like a nun and live a life of celibacy!"

Eric crossed his arms. "Don't you give me that tone! It's bad enough that you compete in those risqué contests of yours, but while you are under my roof you will dress like a respectable person!"

Armond pushed away from the table and stormed from the kitchen, making a beeline to his room. Why was it always such a struggle with Eric? So what if he wanted to flaunt his goods? With his sandy blonde hair, firm legs and tight ass, he knew he was hot. What was wrong with showing off what nature had given him? Yeah, he enjoyed the looks he'd get from guys, but it wasn't like he was going to act on it. Not when the only man he cared for lived in the same house...

He slumped onto his bed and let his mind drift to Nick. God. Just picturing his tight muscles and rugged features made Armond feel a twinge of delight. His hand crept down into his shorts and began to rub at his four inch dick, picturing Nick leaning over him, touching him. His breathing grew heavy as he pictured Nick taking him over and over, breeding him like the little slut he was. It wasn't long before he came into his hand, letting out a high little moan as he did.

Laying on his bed, basking in the afterglow, he reached over with his free hand and looked at his phone's wallpaper. It was a picture of him and Nick on the beach. "Soon," he told himself, "I'll tell him how I feel..."