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Endemic Evolution

“As you can see, we’ve quarantined the area, Doctor Simmons.”

The parking lot was completely empty. The garage doors for food deliveries were shut down and the back remained locked with blinds drawn.

Doctor Simmons pursed his dark lips. His carefully shaved scalp shone under the sun. “Then tell me, Barton, why are we in the back of a hotel parking lot, and why is that man by the garage shirtless?”

Barton looked up at the doctor in shock. His paler skin and slanted eyes spoke well of his Asian heritage. “You haven’t been briefed on the nature of the illness?”

“Barton, I was just swept from my home a few weeks before Christmas. I was then promptly shoved on a redeye with an armed escort and a series of highly advanced medical vehicles with equipment to bring he here. And while I do appreciate the warmth Florida has to offer, I am tired and feeling more than a little cranky. I would prefer to get back to my family as soon as possible, so tell me the symptoms.”

Barton flinched. “O-of course, Doctor. This is Joseph Malloy. He’s a newer patient.”

Simmons looked over the subject briefly, then returned his gaze to Barton. “I perceive nothing wrong with him. He appears to be in perfect health.”

Barton cleared his throat uncomfortably. “That’s ... sort of the point, Sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“The course of this illness is different from most. Rather than degrade the body, it enhances it to a rapid degree. Immune response, sight, hearing, heart health, it all improves drastically.”

“And this is a problem because...?”

“Because more than half of my clientele have devolved into musclebound idiots that only care about working out, flexing, and showing off,” Joseph growled. “And I’d rather not join them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Heh ... they’ve devolved into meatheads in every sense of the stereotype, including decreased IQ and a complete obsession with weights, fitness, sports, and their bodies that borders on narcissism.”

“Surely, you’re joking.”

“No, Sir. According to our data, the phenomenon appears to be endemic in nature.”

“Demographic?”

“White Caucasian. Gender: Male.”

“That’s a very large population,” Simmons mused. “Communication methods?”

“Unknown, Sir. But there are certain signs. Restlessness, increased libido, arousal, and a fantastic amount of testosterone.”

“I assume that’s why he’s wearing those compression pants?”

“That and they feel comfortable.” Barton shrugged. “Why not kill two birds with one stone?” Malloy reached down and scratched at his crotch casually. “So, how did you want to start this thing? Were you hoping to feel up my muscles or something? Take measurements?”

“We haven’t even reported as to what this is in the first place. Does it have a name?” the doctor asked.

“We’ve titled it Meatheadosis, after the old urban joke,” Barton explained.

A low moan escaped Malloy’s lips and the pair of physicians turned immediately to face him. They watched as thick powerful veins began to rise up from the skin on his arms. Four abdominals had taken shape in his core and were developing more definition by the second. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as a thin coating of hair grew over his chest.

“Oh, damn. That feels ... this feels....” Malloy groaned as a small lump began to grow slowly and steadily against the crotch of his pants.

“Damn it all,” Barton swore under his breath. “He’s breaking faster than I expected.”

A light stubble grew in over Malloy’s masculine jaw that slowly filled into a proper short beard complete with mustache. “Fuck,” he groaned. “This feels ... this feels ... so fucking good. A light smirk pulled at his lips that soon blossomed into a mellow sort of half-grin. Hands clenched and unclenched. Shoulders heaved and cracked as his torso began to expand. His gaze became glassy as his pectorals began to bounce back and forth, back and forth. “So, uh, we gonna do this or not, Coach?” he asked as his neck gradually expanded with muscle and his voice lowered into a deep bassoon. “I’ve got cardio in like, five minutes.”

Doctor Simmons swallowed heavily. “He just....”

“Yes,” Barton agreed.

“And there are ... how many of them?” “Sixty here alone. We minorities seem to be immune.” Simmons watched as Malloy raised his arms and began to pose. With every flex, the subject’s gaze became more distant. Then came the guffaws. A light flush rose in Simmons’ cheeks as they finished their examination, then sent the affected patient on his way.  “Have you identified the bacteria or germ responsible?” Barton shook his head. “That’s part of what’s puzzling us. There’s no sign of them. I’m worried what might happen if the virus or whatever this is mutates into something more.” A light sheen of sweat now reflected the sheen in his brow. Simmons suddenly found himself grateful for his Nubian heritage as he felt the blood flowing through his veins. “We’ll need samples, won’t we?” he asked. “Hm?” Barton’s head jolted up suddenly. “Oh, you mean blood, tissue, that sort of thing.” He smirked. “I’m sure it won’t take long to get those. The others have turned the main lobby into a football field. Simmons’ breath hitched as he gasped. “Ve-RR-y--.” He cleared his throat. “Very well. Let’s see what we can get. “Mmm ... yeah. This is gonna be good.” Barton casually laid his clipboard down over his crotch. “Plenty good.” Simmons started walking. “It will be fun to ... observe the proceedings,” he said, heedless of the tent that was starting to grow in his own crotch. He let out a low chuckle as his lab coat became just a little more snug. “You know, I always wanted to play football....”

You’ve heard of the magic red boots that forced their wearer to dance. Well, bro, these here are magic sneaks that force a bro to LIFT! Think you’re progressing now? Just wait till that curse settles in. You won’t be able to think of anything else. ... But bro, seriously, why would you want to? Welcome to your new home, bro.

Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181128775917/endemic-evolution-chapter-3-doctor-lee-chen-barton

Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181323718642/endemic-evolution-chapter-5-doctor-barton-sighed

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Endemic Evolution Chapter 4

“There, you see? It’s not all that bad, Rante.” The doctor blushed as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. Two black Under Armour wrist bands donned his otherwise bare arms. The familiar Nike swoosh marked the side of his calf and his left thigh for the shorts and compression gear he wore beneath them. “Did you seriously have to give them the keycard to my room, though?” Simmons ran his hands over his scalp again and winced at the sharp scraping bristle his hairs made. The new hair style was a striking difference from his original cut. Malloy grinned. “We had to greet you properly, now that you’re staying as one of our guests.” “By shaving my head and getting rid of my clothes?” “Dude, you were outgrowing them anyway. Did you see how tight that dress shirt was getting? And those lab sleeves wouldn’t have lasted long against those guns of yours.” “I guess they were getting kind of small. And my arms do look kind of nice,” Simmons admitted. “Bro, you haven’t even reached your peak yet.” “I ... haven’t?” “Nah, bro. Here. Try this on. It’ll cover up your head till your hair grows back.” “Oh, uh, thanks.” “No prob.” Malloy sneered as Rante put on the snapback hat. He strode forward and twisted it around, so the brim sloped down Rante’s neck. “Much better.” “I don’t know....” Trust me, Rante. You look like a stud.” He wrapped his arm around the doctor’s shoulders and led him back to the mirror. “Go on. Take a minute. Just look at yourself.” Rante averted his gaze. “I said look at yourself, Rante.” Malloy glared at the man and moved with a swiftness that belied the mass he’d accumulated as an Alpha. His hand was on Simmons’ head almost instantly. His other hand braced his chin as he forced the man to look into the mirror. Rante’s pupils shrunk briefly, then dilated as his breathing came in shorter bursts. “See? Doesn’t this highlight your body so much better than those stupid lab coats? All they do is hide your muscles.” Malloy flexed a bicep as his sneer returned. “And why would you want to hide this, hmm?” The doctor trembled as his breathing became more labored and forceful. “C’mon, bro. I’ve seen you at the pool. I know how much you’ve been watching us, how you flex when you think nobody’s watching.” Rante flinched and Malloy smirked. “Wanna know a secret?” Malloy asked, almost whispered as he struck a double bicep pose and forced a pump into his muscles. A low groan escaped Rante’s lips. Malloy bore his teeth in a vicious grin. “It feels even better when there’s an audience.” A strangled gurgle, a heaving chest, clenching fists and teeth. But, of course, that was his mistake. Clenching meant flexing. Rante groaned. He didn’t try to hold it back this time. It rolled in a grating sort of rumble that faded off into a sigh as his shoulders slumped and his arms relaxed. He stood there silently for a time, just breathing deeply as he stared into his reflection with a vacant expression and it stared back. Then came the twitch. It was the barest hint of motion. His right pectoral trembled. It may have been a trick of the eye. The motion carried into the left, that same trembling. The breathing quickened. Then, slowly, like an engine turning over, his pectorals began to bounce. Right, then left. Right, then left. Back and forth. His skin glowed in the room’s light. “That’s it, Rante. Just like a machine starting up. You know what comes next.” Rante leaned forward and curled both arms in front of his torso. His trapezius muscles flared. His biceps tingled and rose. The barest hints of veins began to show under the skin as muscle strained. The four-pack abdominals sharpened to reveal two more slabs that were slowly being carved from his lower torso. He held that pose for ten seconds before releasing and straightening with a blissful grin on his face that gradually faded into just a hint of a smirk. “Bro....” Malloy ran a hand over Rante’s torso. The sixth pair of muscles hadn’t completely retracted. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you, bro?” “Oh, fuck yes,” Rante moaned. “Just imagine how much better that’ll feel in a whole gym of muscled studs just waiting to watch you grow....” Rante’s shoulders slumped. His jaw went slack. His chest thrust out as he gazed sightlessly at his reflection. His mind was elsewhere. “See you at the gym, little bro,” Malloy said as he made his way to the hotel room’s door. The Alpha chuckled to himself as it shut behind him. He let loose a vicious triumphal grin. “Just try to stay away now.”

Schools of Thought

“I don’t know, man. Things have just been feeling ... off lately, you know?” Dennis said as he leaned back on the comfy bed. His black briefs hugged perfectly to his frame, accentuating the well-toned muscle he had gained. “Off...?” Devon asked as he leaned against the door frame with his hands behind his back. His muscle was not so fully developed as his roommate, but he had definite tone. His neon orange briefs hugged tightly to his waist as he stared ahead. “Yeah. I mean, it’s cool and all getting this sweet deal for college, but ... don’t you find it strange how much things have changed?” “Not really.” Devon’s eyes took on a dreamy look as a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I like the new us.” “Don’t get me wrong. I like being stronger, too. I mean, this is the fittest I’ve been in like ... ever. It’s just ... Idunno. I never used to like being like this, you know?” “Like what?” “Half-naked. I mean, we’re lounging around in nothing but a skimpy pair of underwear for each of us. The old me would never have done that, but now it feels ... wrong, somehow, not to.” He reached down to brush his abdominals gently. “You know what I mean?” “Yes. I know exactly what you mean,” Devon replied in that same distant voice. “I spoke with Coach Sanders about it earlier today.” “Coach?” “Professor Sanders also runs an independent sports team. He prefers for those who work with him to call him coach. He has asked me to do the same.” He stared off into the distance again and silence filled the room. “So?” Dennis asked. “So ... what?” “What did he have to say? About your question.” “Hmm? Oh, oh, the question. Yeah....” He blinked slowly. “Coach said it’s ... sort of like going to school. A ... school of thought. And he said everyone’s got ‘em in their heads, sometimes multiples. Things we didn’t used to like or want suddenly become more desirable, while the old stuff just sort of falls away. It’s kinda like ... uh ...” He furrowed his brow a moment, then sighed and relaxed as the bulge in his underwear grew a little larger. “Like goin’ from primary to kindergarten, ya know? Stuff changes. You move up in grades. One minute, you’re readin’ books on physics and chemical engineering, the next you start doing a little research on the side about personal fitness. Then you start going to the gym, try new techniques, locate more lit, study it, apply it. “Soon you’re studyin’ more fitness than physics. The only compounds and reactions you’re thinking of are newton’s first law as you’re pumping those weights and formulae for supps and shakes. And ... the more you think about those things, the less likely you’re gonna go back to those other places, those other schools, ya know? And ... and you don’t want to.” A doltish grin spread over his face. “I don’t want to.” He chuckled and his voice cracked, then dropped. “I don’t wanna, bro.” “Devon? You okay, man?” Dennis asked. Devon let out a dull, dimwitted chuckle. “Yeah, bro. I’m fine. Just goin’ over today’s lesson.” “Today’s ... lesson?” “Yeah, bro. In my school. You know, the school of thought? You’re goin’ over yours, too. Can’t you tell?” Devon shuddered and finally ran a hand up and down his own abdominals. Then he paused, turned, and flexed a bicep in front of his roommate. “Yeah, Coach. I get it now... Gotta get swole ta pay the toll.” “Devon, what’re you...?” “Just listen, bro. Can’t you hear it?” “Hear what?” a low flush had begun to color Dennis’ cheeks as he felt a strange heftiness between his legs. “The bell, bro. Coach’s voice. He’s calling.” He grinned as he laid back against the wall again. “He said you were falling behind, bro.” “Devon, what are you talking about?” A strange sense of dizziness had begun to settle in Dennis’ head. “You’re not making any sense.” He shook his head to try to dispel the cobwebs, only for a sloshing sort of hiss to stream into his eardrums. He panted as he felt a warmth spreading in his chest and his pectorals began to bounce, first one, then the other in perfect time. He sat up straight and rested his forehead against his palm. “I ... I don’t ... what ... what’s going on?” Devon walked over to the desktop at the far wall of the room and accessed it. The camera flickered to life as the screen booted up. He typed into the system rapidly as the loud hissing became worse and worse. He strode back to his place and grinned at Dennis. “Just wait, bro. You’ll get it soon.” Dennis tried to rise, but stumbled almost immediately and landed back on the mattress again. He struggled to rise and just managed to prop himself up on his elbows when The screen began to flicker and a pulsing spiral materialized and started to spin. “Hello, boys. School is now in session. Time for role call.” Devon’s shoulders slumped against the door frame as he gaped at the screen with dull, unthinking eyes. “Devon Bryant, Jock Bro Number Six. Present and ready for instruction, Coach.” Dennis groaned, tensed, then ultiately slumped as his eyes locked on the screen. “Dennis Mallard, Exchange Student Number Seven. Present and ready for instruction, Coach.” “And are you ready to transfer permanently to my school yet?” “No, Sir, Coach.” “I see. Let’s see what we can do to fix that. I think we’ll start on your language next. After all, how you practice is how you play....”

Dennis groaned as he rose from his bed. The room was warm and inviting, and he reveled in that dull, mindless state that follows all after a long sleep. That is, until the sudden throbbing in his skull struck. “Fuck,” he grated as he rubbed at his temples, and then his eyes. “The hell happened last night?” He felt a brief stirring in his loins and patted the bulge pressing against the crotch of his briefs familiarly. “Sleep well, princess?” Devon taunted from his place in the door frame. Dennis glared at his roommate. “Fuck you.” Devon just grinned. “Come on, bro. S’time to get ready to work out. Dennis rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” “Oh, and Coach wants to talk to you later. Something about catching you up after that stomach bug you had.” He smirked and flexed. “You wouldn’t get sick if you worked out more, like me.” “Yeah, yeah.” Dennis waved off the criticism. “Just tell me when the hell he wants me there already.” He drank the substance Devon shoved in his face and shuddered as he felt the familiar surge of energy. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor and Devon was counting down. 10. 9. 8. Deeper. 7. 6. 5. 4. Can’t stop. 3. In the rhythm. 2. Following the beat. 1. ... “Time to be a bro, little bro.”

Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181232201117/endemic-evolution-chapter-4-there-you-see-its

Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/617378326229762048/on-further-review-of-the-original-photo-i-felt-it

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Endemic Evolution Chapter 5

Doctor Barton sighed as the man in the blue hazmat suit tapped his knee yet again. He didn’t even think about it when the muscle in his knee reacted and lifted his leg of its own accord. “Your reflexes have improved vastly from your last physical,” the physician told him through the respirator. It was almost comical how bulky the Grade A suit was. The helmet couldn’t help but remind Lee of Lord Helmet from Spaceballs The Movie. It was all necessary, though, and he knew it only too well. Lee looked down at his briefs and sighed forlornly. “I know.” A gloved hand rested on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Nobody’s blaming you for what happened. We just didn’t have enough data.” “Yeah, but look what’s happened to Simmons. He’s a completely different person now. He’s not even trying to resist this anymore.” “Which is why we have you here in quarantine. You won’t have to worry about the others trying to influence you or force you into something else while we have all the key cards.” The doctor grimaced. “What happened to Doctor Simmons is ... unfortunate, but we’ve learned from that mistake.” “Has ... anyone told his family?” “We’ve told them what we’re allowed.” “So pretty much nothing, then,” Lee muttered angrily. “It’s protocol. Until we can understand exactly what this is, we have to keep it under wraps. Do you have any idea the number of men who would sell their souls to be exposed to this kind of shortcut to a perfect body?” “Yeah, ... I know....” He shook his head. “So, any idea why the disease took so long to manifest in Simmons and me?” “Nothing concrete just yet. It’s possible the initial pathogen was specifically designed for a particular racial background, as you theorized. However, if that is the case, then this virus has proven highly adaptive and mutative.” “Have you checked his brain yet?” “If you mean Doctor Simmons, then yes, we have. His pituitary gland has mutated. The anterior gland has grown and is somehow ... well, for lack of a better word, it’s infecting the rest of the brain.” “Explain,” Barton ordered as he narrowed his gaze. “We’d have to perform surgery to be absolutely certain, but it’s evident that the gland is swollen, not unlike a tumor. However, the remainder of the brain is actually adapting to compensate for this growth, rather than allowing the extra mass to push it against the skull like a tumor. And there are no signs of cancer cells that we’ve been able to detect with the usual means. The increased size would explain a great deal about how closely knit this group of men has become and how easily those who have progressed farther are able to influence those who are not so far along. “Vasopressin and Oxytocin levels rising are among some of the earlier manifestations of the mutation that we’ve been able to document. As you know, increase those two hormones enough, and it’s a simple matter for a subject to bond to one of the other patients. From what we’ve seen, activity in the lateral orbitofrontal cortex has also been slowing dramatically within subjects.” “That’s an easy one to explain.” Lee rolled his eyes. “They’re constantly indulging their libidos. They can’t or won’t stop. I can’t even begin to tell you the number of times I’ve heard someone muttering about how they need to ‘bust a nut’ or how they’d like some ‘pussy to plow.’“ He cut off his narration with a snarl of disgust as the bulge in his briefs responded to the memories. “As you can see, I am not immune to those urges either, though I have maintained strict control.” “It shows.” The doctor peered at Lee’s chiseled torso and the sheer vascularity the man had developed in his arms and thighs. “Curious that the veins are more prominent in locations where main arteries are located.” “Most likely to facilitate spread of the hormones to dull the mind,” Lee theorized. He sighed and ran a hand through his neatly combed hair. “Not to mention the rapid rate of growth in certain parts of anatomy. My body is probably priming itself for the next stage. I’ve been able to slow the process down somewhat, but not stop it.” The doctor peered at the various bottles that lay on a tray next to the bed. “And you’ve been taking your pills?” “Regularly,” Lee said vehemently. “Either these antivirals and biotics aren’t strong enough or this isn’t the result of a biological entity.” “Now you’re just being overdramatic.” “Am I? How many tests have we performed now with no results? There’s no sign of anything that could be deemed responsible. And all the while, we’re becoming more and more like walking factories of testosterone!” He slammed his fists against his mattress and took a few labored breaths. Then the breathing became more steady. “I ... apologize. The lack of progress is frustrating, to say the least, and my ... advancement in this affliction has left me in a more aggressive state of mind.” The doctor nodded behind his massive visor and turned to gather his materials, including the vials of blood he’d just harvested. “I understand. You should try to get some rest.” Lee smiled sadly after the doctor. When he heard his door close, he let out an explosive sigh. “I will, when my body lets me.” He finally released the yawn he’d been holding in and strode over to the coffee machine. He replaced the filter, opened the pouch with the grounds in it, poured, and activated the maker. Then he dragged himself back to the bed as the scent of the blend began to fill the room. He sighed and turned on the television, then scratched at his crotch, oblivious to the veins’ subtle advance with each abrasion. “I wonder how the Patriots did last night....”

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Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181232201117/endemic-evolution-chapter-4-there-you-see-its

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Endemic Evolution Chapter 3

Doctor Lee Chen Barton blew out his mouth like a whale as he surfaced from his breast stroke. They had studied the subjects for the last month with little success in isolating the disease. On top of this, a certain degree of worry gnawed at him. He peered over at the poolside, where Doctor Rante Simmons was just finishing another round of drawing blood samples. A pair of swim trunks hung somewhat loosely against his trimmer frame. The man’s eyes remained rigidly fixed on the vials, but Lee could see how Simmons would pass his gaze over the other men’s rapidly increasing musculature. His hands would squeeze and caress a little longer than necessary, and a bulge began to tent in the man’s crotch, pressing against the fabric. Lee knew what needed to be done. He waded confidently through the pool’s waters, heedless of the splashes that sounded behind as others bellyflopped or otherwise disturbed the waters. The air was heavy with the scent of chlorine and the humidity of the warmer waters. The resistance against his thighs was almost electric as he waded through the shallows and finally mounted the stairs. “Doctor Simmons, I can take over for now. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool? You look like you could use one.” Simmons blinked owlishly and gaped a moment, as if he’d only just noticed his colleague. “Sorry, what?” he finally managed to ask. Lee laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The pool. You should take a dip. Cool off.” He looked pointedly down at Simmons’ crotch. The man at least had enough decorum to blush. “I’ll finish the samples and get them ready for shipping.” Simmons nodded and cleared his throat. “Right. Call me if you need me. I’ll be just over there.” He strode purposefully toward the pool’s steps and winced as he got up to his thighs in the water. Then he arced under and was lost beneath the surface. Lee sighed and looked up at his next patient, a more recent addition to the ranks. Kyle Lambridge was a former staff member under Malloy’s employ. The young man had been careful to avoid contact with the other men, and Lee had been hopeful the boy could be cleared to leave in due course, perhaps even prove to be a source for an inoculation to cure the disease. Unfortunately, Kyle had proven to the contrary. His reaction when he finally manifested symptoms had been so violent that he practically jettisoned into the Gym Rat stage. As a member of his staff, Malloy had taken full “responsibility” for the boy and now watched over him like a mother bear. He trained him in the weights section. He pushed him to eat more than his peers. And his mental faculties, well.... Lee had managed to catch the two of them chatting in the locker room once.

“It’s not that bad, really, once you get used to it,” Malloy had said. “You just have to sort of accept it, ya know?” “But I--”

“No buts. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “But I don’t want to....” “Bullshit. Your body wants to, so you want to. It’s natural.” “... Natural....” Lee’s breath had begun to take on a labored tone. “Does it feel bad to you?” “N-no, but--” “What did I say about buts?” “S-sorry, Sir.” “Now listen to me. Your meat’s trying to talk to you. Listen to it.” “I--” “Don’t think. Just do.” A low moan escaped Kyle’s lips. “Just ... do....” “That’s right, bro. Do it.” “Fuck,” Kyle hissed. He grunted and his voice deepened. “Oh, fuck.” “Told ya, lil’bro. Best feeling in the world, except maybe for a good pump.” Kyle chuckled. His voice deepened with every husky guffaw. “Fuck yeah, it is.” “So, you scared about it anymore?” “Fuck no! Huhuhuh....” “That’s a good bro. Finish up. We’ve got a lot of reps to do today.” “Yes, Sir....” He grunted again and chuckled. “Dunno why I was so scared before. I’m such a dumbass. Mmm ... yeah, just a big, burly dumbass....”

Lee had been quick to make his escape. He didn’t want to see what had just transpired, though he could guess only too well the lesson Malloy had taught his new protege. The fact the boy’s body and privates had both experienced a growth spurt less than twenty-four hours later only helped to strengthen those suspicions. He would be remiss not to admit the discussion had caused a certain amount of arousal. That was part of his reasons for spending so much time in the pool. The cooler water helped to shock his more carnal nature and left him clear-headed to focus on their work. Malloy soon approached. A confident easy-going grin was plastered over his face. He quickly wrapped a burly arm around Kyle’s shoulders as Lee finished the last of the bandaging. “Doc,” he acknowledged. “I see you’re doing well today.” He glanced down at Lee’s trunks and the grin widened as knowing eyes gave his expression just a hint of a sneer. “I like the look.” Lee shrugged. “I like to balance modesty with sex appeal,” he said bluntly. “The time we’ve spent here studying you has given me plenty of time to make my body more ... presentable for these.” “Oh, sure. Sure,” Malloy agreed amicably. “What are you up to now, anyway, a hundred pounds?” Lee grit his teeth as the familiar tingle rose in his crotch. “One twenty, if you must know.” “Not bad,” Malloy approved. “Keep at it and you might be as strong as me one day.” Lee nodded as he attended to the next patient. “Perhaps. But then again, I thought a man of your stature didn’t like competition.” “I don’t.” He wrapped an arm around Lee’s shoulders and smirked. “But I always make exceptions for friends. We are friends, aren’t we, Doctor Barton? Or should I call you...?” “Lee.” The word was out of his mouth before he could even think, and a sense of vertigo suddenly assaulted his senses. He grunted as he shouldered the extra weight Malloy forced on him. The man had quite literally become a block head. Every aspect of his jaw and features had become sharpened by angles to mutate into a bizarre parody of a polyhedron. His bristly beard scratched against the side of Lee’s head as he breathed heavily into the doctor’s ear. “Lee, huh? I like that name.” He released his deadly press and choke hold, then turned to Kyle and sneered. “Come on, kid. Time for your protein shake.” He laid a guiding hand on Kyle’s back and steered him away, even as the boy began to bounce his pectorals, just for the sake of the spectacle. Malloy stopped only long enough to turn around and offer his last farewell. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of you, Lee. Much more of you.” He sneered openly. “See you around, stud.” Lee couldn’t tell if it was a compliment, tease, or insult. Then again, it might have been some of all three. He subtly cupped his package on the sly. The effects of his dive in the pool had worn off. “Damn it,” he swore. It had only been a few minutes, after all. He peered over at the pool. Simmons had taken a seat on the edge at the deep end. The water glistened on his dark skin and he rubbed a hand absently over his torso as he watched a trio of Meatheads pose and flex by the hot tub. The desiccated remains of large plastic bags and the red dye on the labels indicated what had once dwelled within those coils. That and the small chunks of ice that had been thrust out of their makeshift ice bath to rest on the floor. He was too far away to tell, but Lee was almost certain his colleague’s crotch was bulging. No more joking. No more mocking. No more mimicry. After the way Malloy had treated him, it was time to face facts. Somehow, some way, they had become infected.