I Heard About the Fireworks... (Patreon)

Brent was starting to think his friends were right.  He’d only been in the States with Chris for a few hours, having come down to visit for the Fourth of July, and already things weren’t off to a good start.  His flight from Ontario had been delayed, which sent his control-freak boyfriend into a spiral as it messed up their plans, and once he got in the car he was treated to an earful about all the “foreigners” Chris saw while he’d been waiting to pick Brent up.  It was an immediate reminder that their relationship worked best when there was distance, not to mention an international border, between them.  When they were apart Brent could let himself forget about Chris’s uniquely American outlook, but that became impossible as soon as he set foot on his lover’s home soil.  Further compounding the issue was the fact that Chris refused to travel north, feeling that Canada was inferior and not worth his time, which meant Brent was the one that always had to travel.  Still, the sex was great, and the lonely young man wasn’t having much luck finding a partner locally.  

And it wasn’t as if Chris was an entirely bad guy.  They’d met online and had been seeing each other long-distance for over a year, and it was obvious the other man cared about Brent.  He was generous both in the bedroom and out of it, but the problem was that he never let anyone forget about that generosity, turning what should have been simple compassion into a competition.  He made sure everyone knew how kind and caring he was, not because he really cared if he helped people, but because he wanted to be seen doing it.  He had a constant, aggressive desire to “win” in every situation, whether there was anything to be gained or not.  

As much as he hated to admit it, that drive was part of what Brent found so attractive.  Pointed in the right direction it was the same energy that made Chris feel masculine and confident and kept his lean frame tight and defined, but pointed in the wrong direction it just came across as smug arrogance.  Chris’s thin build was rock solid with chiseled muscle, and he treated his appearance with the same attention to detail that he did everything else.  He made sure his body was kept smooth, the only hair he wanted being the perfectly styled raven mop above his handsome face.  The striking features helped Brent overlook his boyfriend’s more obvious flaws, though the athletic brunette was every bit as fit and attractive, all without feeling the need to rub his looks in everyone’s face.  He may have been slightly shorter, but he was more hung than Chris, a fact that the other man always made sure to bring up whenever Brent bottomed for him, which, like his travels to the States, was always.  The dark-haired man was a firm top, and he constantly joked about how appropriate it was for a Canadian to be on the receiving end of American dick.  

Brent knew he should break it off but Chris’s charm could be just as aggressive as everything else, and there was a part of him that felt a bit of a thrill being with someone so arrogantly sure of themself.  Chris’s attitude was entirely different from the ones Brent encountered at home, and while it could be frustrating, the novelty was a turn on.  He just wished there was a way to bring out the better parts of his boyfriend’s nature while leaving behind the more narrow minded aspects of Chris’s outlook.  

“I still can’t believe how long that server took.  It’s like she didn’t even care about her job,” Chris said, still grumbling about dinner.  They’d missed their reservation because of the delayed flight, which meant they’d had to wait for a table, and because the restaurant was slammed on a bustling Friday night the servers were all scrambling.  Brent was sympathetic, but all Chris could focus on was that he’d had to wait.  

“Or they were just busy.  It happens,” Brent sighed, rolling his eyes.  He’d been staring at Chris’s solid, perky bubble to distract himself as they walked down the hall to the other man’s apartment, but even the sight of the shifting globes wasn’t enough to quell his growing frustration.  

He pulled out his phone to text his friend’s while Chris kept complaining.  “This is a disaster already.  He hasn’t stopped complaining since I got here,” Brent wrote.  “And he was a total dick to our server at dinner.  I might have to call this early.”  

“Really?  I heard he was such a sweet guy, like a real boy scout type.”  Brent stared at the message from his friend Michelle, unable to tell if she was joking or not.  He’d never described Chris as anything close to sweet or a boy scout, but it wasn’t like his friend to be sarcastic either.  

“...she really was trying her best.  I’ll have to call the manager tomorrow when they’re not so busy and let them know what a good job she did.”  

“What’d you just say?” he asked, his response to Michelle cut off by the sudden shift in Chris’s tone.

“Our server, Tash.  You were right...she was busting her butt in there tonight,” Chris said, reaching out and swallowing Brent’s hand in his.  

The shorter man just blinked, wondering if he’d had too many drinks with dinner.  In a single sentence Chris’s tone hadn’t just pulled a one-eighty, he’d also admitted that Brent had been right about something.  There was also his usage of “butt” instead of “ass”, which was strange since Brent had never known his boyfriend to shy away from swearing, and the way he’d suddenly reached out to hold hands.  Chris was too worried about being seen as weak to display that kind of affection, especially with another man in public.   

“Where’s this good mood coming from all of a sudden,” Brent asked, his head feeling like it was starting to spin.  

Chris raised an eyebrow and squeezed his hand.  “What are you talking about?  You’re here...of course I’m in a good mood.”  Brent’s stomach fluttered when the dark-haired man leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  There was an awkward pause after Chris unlocked the door and they both just stood there before Brent realized his boyfriend was holding it open and waiting for him to go first.  He shook his head as he walked inside, his phone buzzing with another message.  

“Yeah, I heard he was a real blonde-haired American boy,” the message from his friend Jeff read.  Brent was more confused than ever.  He’d showed Jeff pictures of Chris before, so his friend should have known that the other man wasn’t blonde. 

“Want me to make you a drink?”  Brent gasped and nearly dropped his phone when he looked up at Chris’s question.  He was surprised that the other man was even offering to make him a drink and not the other way around, but he was even more surprised by the short, golden blonde hair that now sat on his boyfriend’s head.  “What?  Are you okay?”  

“You...your hair...it’s…” Brent stammered, his eyes wide.  He watched Chris’s expression falter slightly when the now-blonde man looked at his reflection, a bashful smile quickly returning.  

“I wondered if you’d notice.  I got it cut a little shorter than usual,” Chris said, as if the sudden shift in color was entirely normal.  “Too much?”  

“N...no, it’s, uh, cute,” Brent said, afraid to look down when he felt his phone buzz again.  He forced his eyes away from his toe-headed lover, his shaking hands making it difficult to read Michelle’s response.  

“Right?  I heard he was one of those real Midwestern, corn-fed types.  All muscles and big hands?  I’m so jealous.”  

Brent had to cling to the counter for support when he looked up just in time to see Chris finish swelling.  At 5’10” his boyfriend had always been a couple inches taller than himself, but now Chris seemed to tower over him.  The way he had to crane his neck to look up at his boyfriend’s suddenly lantern-jawed face, Brent guessed the other man to be 6’3” at least, with a body to match.  Where before he’d been tight and lean, Chris now sported a pair of broad shoulders and thick, beefy arms.  His button-up strained across his now-prominent pecs as it accentuated his tapering torso, and Brent could see a wiry dusting of golden hair coating the muscled slab when Chris absently popped the top two buttons.  The expanded hunk’s lower half was just as impressive, with a pair of wide, solid legs stretching his chinos, while his thickened, ample rear and obvious bulge filled them to capacity.  “Chris?  You...you’re…” he sputtered, his legs going weak.  

“Whoa!” Brent felt the other man’s powerful new body wrap itself around him before he could fully process what was happening.  Despite his shock, his cock throbbed at the sensation of being swallowed in Chris’s strong arms and held against his inflated, granite body.  He wasn’t used to being towered over, or so easily manhandled as Chris guided him to the couch, and the experience made him groan.  “What just happened?  Are you okay?”  

“Are...are you?!” Brent finally stammered.  “Look at you!”  He watched Chris blush as the now-strapping hunk looked down at himself, but the bigger man wasn’t displaying any of the concern Brent thought he should have.  

“What?  You mean this?” Chris asked, popping another pair of buttons to reveal the golden dusting of hair on his inflated pecs.  “I got tired of shaving it all the time, but I didn’t think you’d be this surprised.  Don’t like it?”  

Brent didn’t know what to say.  He’d just watched his dour lover become a laidback, golden Adonis and all the other man focused on was his furry chest, not the fact that his body had just been impossibly altered.  “No...I...I like it,” he said, his hand shaking as he reached out and ran it along the hairy mountains.  Brent wasn’t entirely convinced that any of this was actually happening, but he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity.  

“I can see that,” Chris winked, nodding down at the obvious tent in the other man’s pants.  

Before the stunned brunette could say anything the blonde hunk leaned in and pressed their lips together, fishing Brent’s cock free.  The shorter man whimpered when Chris began stroking, his thick six-and-a-half inches feeling small in his lover’s meaty new grip.  Brent wanted to explore Chris’s altered frame, but it was clear that the other man had his own ideas.  He leaned forward and raised his arms when the strapping stud tugged at his shirt, but he was quickly pinned against the couch again when Chris began working his mouth down his neck and across his smooth, modest pecs.  

“How’d I get so lucky,” Chris sighed, his tongue flitting against Brent’s tiny nipple. The smaller man blushed at the blonde’s beaming expression, more accustomed to being on the giving side of compliments than the receiving.  Normally he would be the one working Chris’s cock while the smug man basked in his praise, and he didn’t know how to process the look of adoration in the giant’s eyes as he squirmed in his powerful grip.  

Brent’s gasp was a combination of shock at what he heard and the sensation of Chris’s soft lips wrapping around his aching rod.  Watching his lover’s now-blonde head bob up and down, his broad back flexing with the motion, Brent didn’t care how any of this was happening; he just wanted it to continue.  In the past, Chris had only ever reluctantly blown him, but now the brawny stud was working his widened jaw with feverish passion.  “Don..don’t hog all the fun,” he gasped, stroking between the other man’s massive shoulders.  

Chris looked up at him with a bashful grin, giving his bulbous head a final lick.  “Sorry, I’ve just missed thaaooophh!”  He broke off in a laugh when Brent lunged forward and shoved him down on the couch, his wide paws latching onto the smaller man’s solid bubble as he straddled him.  Instead of his usually arrogant expression, the look of adoration on his face never faded as Brent tore his shirt open and hungrily kneaded his furry slab of a chest.  

The eager brunette nearly came at the full sight of the other man’s altered torso.  Chris had lost some of his shredded definition, but he’d replaced it with ample, bulging muscle that radiated a primal strength.  Before, the other man’s precision-crafted build had stemmed from vanity and his desire to be the most cut in the room.  Now, he had the kind of build that came from a joy of working out and being physical, not from a constant need to prove himself.  It only added to his increasingly masculine aura, replacing his insecure arrogance with a quiet confidence.  

Brent wasted no time sliding down Chris’s legs and tearing the other man’s pants open.  He was surprised to see that the other man’s normally tiny briefs had been replaced by a pair of boxers, but his attention was quickly focused on the wide, eight-inch club that sprung free.  He resisted the urge to swallow it, instead pulling Chris’s pants and boxers free to get a full view at the glowing specimen of manhood beneath him.  The beefy hulk, with his gentle smile and golden hair, didn’t seem to have any of the old Chris’s tense cockiness.  As he gazed up at Brent, his rough, giant hands stroking the other man’s smooth back, there was nothing to prove and nothing to win. 

“MMMmmhmmm…” Chris sighed, arching his back when Brent leaned forward and swallowed as much of the fat club as he could.  He was usually quiet, but now the widened stud let out a series of gasps and whimpers as the other man worked his throbbing organ.  “You...you’re so..da...darn good at that,” he stuttered.  

“You can say ‘damn’, you know,” Brent laughed, giving Chris’s plump new balls a lick.  He slipped his hands under the prone stud and gave the other man’s ample new cheeks a squeeze.  “Or ‘ass’...or ‘fuck’,” he winked, his cock throbbing when Chris’s face turned red.  

“Someone needs to make a deposit in the swear jar,” the sturdy blonde said, giving Brent’s ass a quick swat.  “That’s not my style.”  

“The swearing or the ass fucking,” Brent purred, egging him on.  

“I thought Canadians were supposed to be so nice and polite,” Chris laughed as he sat up and wrapped his arms around Brent, falling forward and pinning the smaller man to the couch with another deep kiss.  He tugged Brent’s pants and underwear free in one quick motion when he broke it off, his hands swallowing the smaller man’s toned thighs.  

“We are.  There’s nothing impolite about a good fucking,” he said, inching himself closer to Chris’s waiting pole.  “What’s impolite is keeping someone waiting.”  

Brent barely finished the sentence before his legs were tossed into the air and hefted onto Chris’s burly shoulders.  He had just enough time to lock eyes with the looming hunk, his vision going blurry when the other man’s thick club wormed inside.  The sensation of the other man’s broad, hairy torso pressing down on him, their lips locked together while the massive organ pumped in and out, was more than Brent could handle.  Usually he was face-down while they fucked, not staring directly at a set of wide, adoring eyes.  Their sex before had been great, but now Chris read his body, adjusting his speed and rhythm in time with Brent’s whimpers and squirms.  The altered hulk wasn’t trying to prove how skilled he was in bed anymore; he was just trying to make Brent feel good.  The smaller man’s howling eruption a short time later was proof of a job well done.  

“Oh...oh fuck…” Brent panted as Chris finished and unloaded inside him.  “That...that was incredible.  I knew fireworks were a big part of the holiday, but...wow,” he said, still in a daze.  He shook his head and stretched, catching sight of his phone on the floor just as the screen lit with another message.  

“I can’t wait to finally meet him.  I heard he’s coming up here next time,” Jeff’s message read.  

“I wish we could do this more often,” Chris said just as Brent finished reading the text, his face nuzzled against the other man’s neck.    “But I get it...Canada’s great.  I can’t wait until I get to come up there next month.”  

Brent was so dazed that it took a moment before the weight of Chris’s admission sunk in.  He didn’t know if he was more surprised by the other man’s altered appearance or the fact that he’d just said he was actually eager to visit his neighbors to the north.  “You’ll fit right in,” he said.