One Way to Find Out (vignette) (Patreon)

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Parker couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, either, but his stunned brain could only process so much at one time.  The handsome jock had just stepped out of the shower, and although he didn’t see anyone else in the bathroom with him, when he looked at his dripping reflection in the mirror he wasn’t alone.  Parker had yelped and dropped his towel at the sight of the lumpy, horrid creature somehow standing next to him, his heart racing as his feet refused to follow through on the growing desire to turn and run.  The thing in the mirror was vaguely humanoid, with a squat, toadish head that sat atop a wide, scaled torso bearing too many arms.  The bathroom counter obscured Parker’s view of the thing’s lower half, but given the way its midsection appeared unbroken below whatever passed for its waist, the stunned brunette had the impression of a serpentine tail instead of legs.  The question it posed was in response to the internal debate Parker had been having, one that he constantly argued about with others as a way of lording his own superiority over them.  The sculpted stud liked to ask people what they thought was more important when it came to a hookup: a guy’s face or his body.

In Parker’s case, it was a moot point as he excelled in both areas.  The young stud’s face was as chiseled as his body, with a thick head of chestnut hair that hadn’t yet begun to recede in the slightest.  A trimmed beard covered the rest of his sharp, masculine features, setting the stage for what lingered from the neck down.  At 26, Parker’s athletic frame had only grown more refined as he’d aged.  His broad shoulders had thickened and filled out, supporting a pair of shredded, steely arms that constantly fought for attention with his prominent, envious pecs.  It was a battle that only raged during the rare occurrences when the young hunk wore a shirt, as his ripped washboard was the star of the show whenever it was exposed.  That shining midsection was diminished only slightly whenever Parker’s pants came off and his perky bubble and thick hose were on display, the sturdy, striated thighs that supported it all serving to complete the handsome package.

If the choice was simply between face and body, the athletic Adonis couldn’t lose, a fact that he loved to remind people about.  Parker went through men the way most people went through outfits, sometimes hooking up multiple times per day with other gorgeous studs that he deemed to be on his level, or at least close to it.  It never took long as there wasn’t much in the way of conversation or preamble, just a physical release and a booster shot for an ego desperate to remain inflated at all times.

So when he stepped out of the shower, Parker had expected to give himself his customary going-over, to flex and primp and preen and feel a familiar sense of smug satisfaction at his perfect reflection, not come face to face with a grinning nightmare.

“Why don’t we start with the face?”  The thing’s voice was uncomfortably smooth, a deep, seductive rumble that would have looked more at home coming out of someone shaped like Parker than the stocky monstrosity.

“Wait…what?!  No!  Don’t start with anything,” the stunned brunette cried, finally finding his voice.  “What the fuck even are you?!”

The toad creature’s smile was so broad it looked like its head might split in half.  “The answer to the question you always ask!  Face, body…now you can learn.  Don’t worry, it won’t hurt,” the thing said, winking.

Parker had a thousand other questions he wanted to ask, but there wasn’t time.  A numb tingling sensation spread around his head, the trimmed beard receding to reveal features that were quickly becoming unrecognizable.  On either side, Parker’s ears enlarged noticeably, tilting away from his skull to stand out at an awkward angle while his forehead appeared to expand when his hairline pulled drastically back.  At the same time, his eyes drifted slightly further apart as his nose inflated into a prominent beak above a mouth that looked too big even though his formerly perfect jawline had stretched and pulled down, leaving him with a face that was as asymmetrical as it was long.  When his distended jaw fell open, Parker saw a mouth full of teeth that were also too large and slightly out of sync, accentuating the almost donkey-like appearance he’d acquired.

“What the fuck did you just do to me?!  Put my face back the way it was,” the stunned stud shrieked, his warped features going crimson, then pale, then crimson again.

“So soon?  But you haven’t even experimented yet,” the thing said, its tone as calm and casual as always.

“Experiment?  No!  I’m not going to hook up with anyone like this!  People can’t see my face while it’s…it’s…” Parker trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the word.

“That’s entirely up to you, but it’s not going to change until you do.  So if you want your previous features back, I suggest you go through with your plans for the evening as intended and see where the night takes you.  Or you can stay like this for a while…that’s entirely up to you.”

“But…but I…” Parker was distracted by a sudden knocking, and when he looked back the thing was gone, leaving only his altered reflection to gawk from the mirror.  He froze.  He knew it was his friend Eric knocking, and that the other man was coming to join him for an evening out like always.  The blonde hunk was every bit as gorgeous as himself, or at least as gorgeous as Parker should have been, and while they were stunning on their own, they immediately commanded attention when they showed up together.  Though the evenings started as a team they inevitably ended in solo adventures, with the two texting each other the following morning to compare notes.  And on the rare occurrence when they couldn’t find someone who met their standards, they always had each other to blow off steam with.

When Eric knocked again, Parker staggered to the door in a naked daze.  He threw it open, expecting his friend to be horrified by the sight of his warped face but not anticipating the stab of resentful envy he felt upon looking at the other man’s perfect features.  Though Parker knew he could still hold his own when it came to the chiseled torso spilling out of the blonde’s loose tank-top, or the perky bubble and hefty bulge straining his friend’s tiny nylon shorts, his new face was lightyears away from the other man’s model-caliber jawline.

“Whoa!  Running a little late, are we,” Eric laughed when he stepped into the apartment and quickly shut the door before Parker inadvertently exposed himself to his neighbors.

“I…I…” the stammering brunette didn’t know what to say.  His friend wasn’t reacting at all the way he’d expected, and now that they were face-to-face Parker’s plan to explain what happened was derailed as he found himself unable to speak the words.  Whenever he tried to mention the thing in the mirror or what had been done to him they dried up in his throat, leaving him unable to do anything other than gawk at his friend.

“Are you okay?  You’ve got a weird look on your face, and for you that’s saying something,” Eric said, raising an eyebrow.

The words landed like a punch in the gut.  “No, it’s been a day,” Parker sighed, trying desperately to think of some loophole that would let him either explain what happened or provide an escape.  He winced when Eric reached over and tousled his thinning hair, equally unaccustomed to new power dynamics in their relationship.

“Well, get it together because I need you to make me look good out there,” the blonde said, shrugging.  “And if you’re lucky he’ll have a hot friend for you, too.”

Parker wanted to crawl under a rock and hide, but Eric’s talk of a hook up gave him an idea.  The thing in the mirror said he’d be stuck like this until he did, and his friend was the easiest outlet. They’d hooked up plenty of times in the past, so if they could do it again right now he’d be put back to normal without having to go anywhere.  He put his hands on Eric’s trim hips and pulled the other man towards him, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hey now,” the blonde barked, quickly pulling his head out of reach.  He extricated himself from Parker’s desperate grip and scowled at the naked brunette, folding his sculpted arms over his chest.  “What the fuck was that?”

“I…I just thought we could…” Parker started, reeling from the unfamiliar sensation of insecurity.

“Oooohhhh, is that what this is,” Eric grinned, reaching out to squeeze one of his friend’s plump pecs while the other hand cupped the other man’s exposed package.  “Dude, I’m flattered, really…but no way,” he scoffed.  “This body is on point,” he said, giving Parker’s perky rear a slap before reaching up to tug on the blushing brunette’s satellite-dish ears, “and you’re adorable in a super goofy kind of way.  I just need someone closer to my level, you know?”

Parker didn’t know which was worse; what Eric said, or the condescension dripping from his voice as he said it.  The former pretty-boy was mortified in a way he’d never felt before, too humiliated to even begin to grow angry.  He literally couldn’t remember the last time he’d been rejected by anyone, and already what remained of his normally supreme confidence was spilling away like air from a punctured tire.  “No, no…yeah…I get it,” he stammered, hating how obvious the forced casualness sounded in his voice.  “Sorry, don’t know what I was thinking.”

Eric’s tone was as smug as ever.  “Tell you what…I’ll be happy to hit that tight little ass if I strike out later, okay?  Just, you know, from behind,” he chuckled, giving Parker’s rear another swat as he turned the naked brunette around and started marching him towards the bedroom.  “Now put something cute on and let’s go!”

Parker dressed in a daze, slipping into a pair of tiny red briefs before picking an outfit that largely mirrored Eric’s.  More than ever he was desperate to show off his superior body in an attempt to make up for what he viewed as the travesty of his face.  The whole way to the bar, while Eric kept checking his appearance in every reflective surface they passed and making idle small talk, Parker’s head kept spinning.  He caught people looking at him in unfamiliar ways, catching their eyes lingering on his body before quickly averting their gaze when they reached his face.

It was a pattern that continued at the bar.  Parker felt drunk already, his overloaded brain going  numb from the foreign sensation of insecure dread that washed over him when they stepped inside.  Normally he walked in as if under a spotlight, strutting up to the bar like a red carpet lay beneath his feet.  Now he followed meekly behind Eric, struggling to recover from the blow that was watching all heads turn in his friend’s direction instead of his own.  And like the shift in dynamic he experienced with the fit blonde, none of the people who’d known him for years reacted the way they should have.  Far from abject horror, they now treated Parker like a peer at best, or spoke to him with an obvious note of condescension at worst.  Even the bartender went to Eric first, flirting with the chiseled hunk the way he normally flirted with the flustered brunette, and merely asking Parker for a drink order without any extraneous conversation.

Desperation was a new emotion for the former pretty-boy, but one that he quickly became acquainted with.  His hopes for getting relief from Eric vanished as the blonde stud disappeared for the night with an olive-hued, raven-haired hunk, and the rest of the guys he knew fell like dominoes in short succession, pairing off in almost sequential order of attractiveness until he was left alone at the bar.  He’d resorted to popping his tank-top off and leaving it dangling from his waist, hoping that by flashing some superior skin he could rope in a partner.  He’d always shied away from that in the past, never needing any sort of boost to garner attention and only doing so if someone else who thought they were better than him was peacocking into his territory.  But then it wasn’t desperate, it was competitive.  Now, while he watched plenty of guys linger on his plump pecs or impressive abs, no one stuck around above the neck.  He’d even gone so far as to do a few solo rounds on the dancefloor, his hopes rising when he felt a pair of strong arms reach around from behind to stroke his abs and undo the fly of his shorts.  Those hopes were dashed just as quickly when he turned to face the brawny bull of a man, only to have his new friend smile politely and slip away.

Parker left his shorts undone and debated whether he should strip out of them entirely, fully aware that he was about to debase himself in the hopes of simply being used by someone for his body.  He eventually decided against it and retreated to the bar, shorts still open to reveal a crimson patch of briefs but still in place around his trim hips.

“That looked disappointing.”  Parker turned towards the man who sat a few stools down, a slightly doughy ginger in basic chino shorts and a t-shirt who appeared to be about his own age.  He didn’t recognize him, but with his slightly-below average build and squarely average features, he wasn’t the kind of person the former pretty-boy would have ever paid attention to.  “Feel like he should have at least bought you a drink after all that groping.”

“That’s been my luck tonight,” Parker sighed, feeling a slight rush of relief when the other man didn’t look away from his altered face.  Despite his bare torso and open shorts, the redhead’s friendly expression stayed strictly on his own.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but did you ever stop to wonder if maybe you’re trying too hard?”  The man’s eyes finally dropped when he nodded to the brunette’s open waist before quickly returning.

Parker couldn’t help but give a short laugh, immediately regretting it when he saw his lopsided, gap-toothed smile in the mirror behind the bar.  “Oh, believe me, I know I’m trying,” he said, scooting over to the adjacent stool.  “Is it working,” he asked, his voice dropping as he placed a hand on the man’s thigh.

“Not really,” the man grinned, signaling for the bartender to bring Parker another drink.  “Don’t get me wrong, you’re great,” he continued quickly, “I just like to get to know someone first.”

“Around here,” the brunette scoffed, raising an eyebrow.  “Does that work?”

“Not really,” the man said again with the same grin.  “But you never know unless you try, right?  I’m Bryan, by the way.”

“Parker.”  The shirtless stud let go of Bryan’s thigh to shake the other man’s hand, his desperate anxiety starting to thaw for the first time all night.  “Thanks for the drink,” he said, realizing that it might be the first one he’d ever received that wasn’t attached to a proposition.  “So if you’re not here for the meat market, why bother?”

“Is that really all you’re here for,” Bryan asked, sounding slightly surprised.

Parker had to stop and think about it, feeling slightly guilty at the answer he came up with.  His days largely consisted of working out, actually working at his office gig, and then feeding his insatiable ego through sexual encounters.  Because of that, and the privilege that his looks granted him, he’d never had to stop and think much about his identity as a gay man and what might mean in the bigger picture.  Even with the gay guys he called friends, their relationships primarily revolved around either hooking up with each other, or acting as wingmen to help facilitate encounters with others.  But they weren’t the kind of people that he’d call if he ever needed help, nor had they ever done anything mundane like sit at his apartment and watch a movie or go out for coffee.  It was just lifting, fucking and drinking, on a loop.  “Huh.  I guess so,” Parker said, sounding equally surprised.

Bryan backpedaled.  “I mean, hey, no judgment, but you don’t ever want to be around other gay guys just for the solidarity?”

“Never really thought about it like that,” Parker shrugged.  “Always just saw it as a means to an end.”

“Oooof…that sounds lonely.”  Bryan shook his head and took a long pull from his beer.

“I’m sorry, but didn’t you JUST say you were going home alone tonight too,” the brunette shot back.

It was Bryan’s turn to shrug.  “Alone doesn’t equal lonely.  I don’t need a stranger in my bed to feel like I’m not on my own.  Friends…community…do you not,” he started, but paused.

“Do I not what,” Parker asked, blushing when he realized that he was sitting there having a legitimate conversation with his shorts open and his underwear on display.

“You seem like a reasonably likable guy, and you’re very, very cute when you blush,” Bryan said, his smile growing when the other man turned a deeper shade of red.  “But do you not have those kinds of connections?  I don’t mean that in a shitty way, honestly.”

“Sounds a little shitty,” Parker said, grinning despite himself.  “Not wrong, though.  Fuck.  That’s…that’s depressing.”

“Whoa, hey, sorry!  Wasn’t trying to bring the mood down,” Bryan said, reaching over to rub Parker’s back between the brunette’s broad shoulders.  “My poorly-made point is that there’s a community out here if you want it.  But if all you want to do is fuck dudes that’s fine too.  You’ve got options, is what I’m saying.”

Parker’s back tingled beneath Bryan’s hand, his stomach experiencing the foreign sensation of fluttering.  The shirtless stud had literally never had anything remotely resembling a serious conversation here, or with most of the men he hooked up with.  Talk was either flirty or catty until it was kept at a minimum entirely, replaced by grunts and sighs as the nights unfolded.  Outside of work, Parker couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual conversation with anyone that didn’t revolve around fucking of some kind.  It occurred to him in that moment that even happy hour drinks with his girlfriends usually involved talking about their boyfriends or who they were hooking up with at the time, and now that he’d pulled on that thread it was making him question everything.

“Fuck.  I didn’t mean to put you in an existential crisis or anything,” Bryan laughed, reading Parker’s absent expression.

The brunette sighed and took another shot.  “And now you’re going to send me home alone to wallow in my misery,” he grinned, raising an expectant eyebrow.

Bryan gave a loud laugh and pulled a small pad from his pocket.  “How about this,” he said, scribbling down his phone number and handing it to Parker.  “If you’re still feeling down tomorrow night, why don’t you let me buy you dinner to make up for it?”

The fluttering in his stomach grew as Parker took the scrap of paper.  “Looks like I’ll be sticking with my sad playlists,” he smiled, feeling an odd mix of excited disappointment as he and Bryan parted ways.  It was still before midnight and he could have stuck around for another few hours trying to land a desperate partner, but his heart wasn’t in it.  He was exhausted and his head was spinning from the impossible, whirlwind events of the evening, and as much as he dreaded the thought of spending another day with his warped face, he couldn’t bring himself to muster the will for a random encounter.  Instead he bashfully closed his shorts, slipped his tank-top back on, and headed for home, his attention focused more on thoughts of his new friend than on his altered reflection.

It wasn’t until he was climbing the stairs to his apartment that it occurred to Parker that he was already nervous for the next day.  Not to confront his coworkers or the gym or anything else with his new features, but because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a proper date.  All he did was swap nudes on apps and pick up guys at the bar.  It had been years since he’d actually done something like go to dinner where he’d have to use his brain and personality instead of his looks and body, and the thought was terrifying.  Bryan had said he seemed “reasonably likable,” but what if that wasn’t really the case?  And why wasn’t he instead getting on his phone, cropping some photos to just show his body, and getting pounded that night?  Why was he staring down the prospect of a whole day with his fucked up mug just to have dinner with a 4 out of 10?

His aching cock was one of the reasons.  As he stripped down and prepared for bed, his mind racing with countless questions, Parker’s thick log was clearly excited.  Normally he watched himself in the mirror when jerking off, but at the moment he flopped down in bed, eyes closed, to fantasize about what the following night could bring.  Parker was surprised at how turned on he was by the other man, gradually realizing that it wasn’t the novelty of potentially hooking up with a new type of person, or the thought of getting his face back that turned him on; it was the way Bryan had made him feel.  Their brief conversation hadn’t simply been a formality but an actual exchange, something that the brunette hunk was sorely lacking.  He was still thinking about the two of them at a dinner table when he came, his dread over what the next day would bring tempered by his excitement over gaining more than just his previous looks as he drifted off to sleep.