...Sort of.

The egg broke, and the contents inside dripped out.

Remy stopped, and stared at his hands. At the green slime dripping from them.

And out of Rommie.

Who frowned down at him. "You broke it!"

It had been a minute since Remy had enough money for partying. But he did remember the drinks that glowed in the UV light.

And he'd been worried they were toxic. And someone had laughed at him. Said that was glowsticks. Said there wasn't much percentage in poisoning your customers.

Remy had pretended to laugh along, and later did a line in the bathroom.

He didn't feel much like laughing now.

First, he bent over, smeared the green across the green. Second, he straightened up, grasped Rommie by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye.

"We need to go to the hospital."

She blinked. "Do you feel sick?"

He shook her. He didn't even intend to, it just...happened. "Rommie? You're sick. Maybe there's some kind of-of-of gas leak, but you're acting funny, and we need to get out of here."

"Are you sure it's me? Your hand looks funny."

His-

His hand was-

He grabbed the flashlight from the ground, and shone it on his hand.

Squeezed his eyes shut.

And looked again.

His fingernails were still black.

And so were his fingertips.

And they looked rather pointy.

"Now," Rommie said, "I feel fine. Look."

And she grabbed Remy's right hand, and pulled it to her chest.

He tried to pull it away, but couldn't. It might as well have been nailed on. And Rommie didn't even seem to notice. She didn't even look down.

She just pushed it under her shirt, under her ratty old bra.

Was her boob... Bigger then it had been?

She reached up with her right hand, and slipped it under his shirt.

It felt nice.

She squeezed, so he squeezed. They both moaned, just a half-second out of sync.

She reached down, and into his pants.

When she fished his dick out, it dripped green. The same dark colour was on the tip, and spread down its length.

Plus, there seemed to be...ribbing?

He reached out, and took Rommie's cock. It was dark, and ribbed, all the way down.

He frowned. She frowned. That wasn't...right. But his dick was becoming ribbed, so all they had to do is wait.

In the meantime, they reached up to cup their hand around their necks, felt the ribs growing in to replace that silly useless hair. Clearly the optimal shape for a head was long. Curved. Streamlined. Smooth.

They laughed, at the sheer inadequacy of what they had been. And the beauty of what they were becoming.

They moved as perfect mirror images. Changing. Growing. Thickening. Curving. Darkening.

Until there was no difference between them but the textiles their pathetic human forms had been wearing.

Textiles they tore off with a few swipes.

Until they admired their perfect forms, glistening in the night.

One thought, "this is better than a high."

And the other - or perhaps both - thought, "so much better."

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