Intro:
If you’re straight, and I’m straight, but then, you’re suddenly transgender, does that make me gay?
CW: Character death, fast crushing, non-consensual violence, rampant transphobia and homophobia
***====
The shrinking virus has been picking up speed. Last Fall, when I was in my 3rd year of college at SUNY Kingston, we had only just heard about a few cases, scattered randomly around the world.
Just a year later, and it’s already reduced the population of normal-sized people by 5%, with some urban areas affected even worse, where 10% of the citizens have suddenly become the size of insects. The sizes of the victims ranged from anywhere from half a millimeter to 3 centimeters tall, depending on their luck.
Unfortunately, once someone becomes that small, they’re unlikely to survive. Their only hope is that someone who has an emergency portable shrunk shelter notices them in time, and uses it to bring them to a shrunken safe house. City health departments and charities now run these controlled, stable environments, funded by donations and taxes.
By the start of this fall, my senior year at SUNY Kingston, the campus had lost 7% of students to the virus.
Specific parts of the campus were more hard-hit. The Fine Arts and the Theater departments had lost 30% of their students to shrinking. The Gay And Straight Alliance had lost 70% of its members to shrinking.
For the first few weeks of the shrinking pandemic, I was afraid of it happening to me, too. Until the news finally reported scientific proof of what had been rumored among the public for a while: that there was one thing linking all of the reduced people: they all had same-sex attraction.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I learned it wasn’t just a shrinking virus. It was just a gay shrinking virus. I felt so lucky that God had been kind to me when He had made me a normal straight girl.
====
“What are you thinking of going as for Halloween?” Sasha, my goth Theater major room-mate, asked me.
“I hadn’t really thought of it,” I answered.
“What? It’s late August!” she replied with incredulity. “We’re starting this late for me!”
I thought about it for the first time that year. I liked going as book characters, it had become a theme for the two of us. Sasha always wanted to go as a male character to compliment my feminine costume. Katniss and Peeta was a real hit last year, before that, I was the Hermione to her Ron Weasley. Back in freshman year, this all started with my Bella and her Edward costumes, which people still talk about to this day. This summer I had re-read Lord of the Rings, and the members of the Fellowship were fresh in my memory.
“What if we went as characters from Lord of the Rings?” I offered.
Her eyes lit up.
“Yes! I get dibs on Samwise!” she had this answer in her pocket, like she had considered it already.
I thought about all of the characters in the books. The main women were either mighty warriors or ethereal goddess-like elves. I didn’t feel like putting complicated armor together, or trying to look as perfect as the elf women looked in the movies.
I remembered the puckish, youthful look of Frodo in the beginning of the movies, and I smiled at the thought of looking like that for Halloween. I wouldn’t even have to buy a wig, I was thinking of cutting my shoulder-length curly brown hair short anyway - this costume would be the perfect excuse.
“Sasha, if you’re Samwise, I have to go as Frodo.”
“Aah!” she squealed in excitement.
“You mean you’d be willing to cross-dress for me?” she asked, with more intensity in her voice than I expected.
“Yeah, why? What’s wrong with that?”
“Oh - nothing - it’s just - bah, don’t worry about it.”
“What? It’s totally normal to cross-dress on Halloween! It’s funny!”
“That’s true. It is basically a Halloween tradition.”
“Sean went as Marilyn Monroe with a beard last year, and he’s totally straight!”
“Right, right - I really mean - don’t worry about it. I’m going to look at ideas for sewing the cosplays.” She opened up her laptop.
“I owe you so much for making the costumes every year. How about, I’ll pay for the fabric, and I’ll actually help you sew the simple parts – in exchange for you teaching me how to do all of the steps?” I offered.
“I’ll take you up on that - oh crap, I was going to meet with Moises and Ariel soon.”
I looked at the dragon-themed clock on the wall. It was 6:30.
“And I have a date with Sean!”
She left while I was still putting my makeup on. I layered it on thick, a high-glam look, and wiggled into a short, neon yellow, raver dress. It was 90’s dance night at the nightclub Bacchus, and this was the first time Sean and I had seen each other in person since late May.
===
One discount Chinese buffet meal, five drinks, some dancing, and a half a joint later, and Sean and I were back at his dorm, taking advantage of his roommate staying at his girlfriend’s apartment that night.
We stripped, and climbed onto the narrow dorm bed. We tasted each other’s lips, then started kissing. All summer long, I had missed the passion in his movements, his scratchy beard, and even the taste of him. We wrapped our legs around each other like pointy pretzels, our hips touching as much as they could. I felt his dick harden while we wrestled against one another on the mattress. Feeling this made me even wetter, and I started stroking his cock. He started rubbing my clit with his fingers.
I felt a stab of pain in my back from moving boxes earlier. I decided to stop kissing and to lean back a little onto my left hand, changing the angle of my spine to ease the pain. I kept jacking him off while he kept playing with my cunt. This angle didn’t help my back feel better, so I leaned all the way back, keeping our waists and my hand together. He followed suit, and removed his hand, deciding to fully relax while I did all the work between our two nude bodies.
I craned my neck to look towards him, and an optical illusion was now between my pointed-up knees. With Sean fully leaned back, from my angle, it looked like I was jacking off a dick that was part of my body. I felt an arousal unlike anything I had experienced in the dozens of times I’ve had sex before. In some weird way that a scientist could probably explain, Sean’s dick started to actually feel like an extension of my body. I could swear that I could feel the sensations of bliss I was milking out of his throbbing, sensitive shaft.
Even though I wasn’t touching myself, the earlier fingering, combined with this optical illusion, was enough to bring me to the brink of orgasm. The dick’s balls tightened, the shaft thrusted forward, and I felt a bonafide orgasm as it shot out a wad of cum towards Sean’s belly. I felt like I had marked him, in some primal way. I felt like cackling in triumph. Instead, I leaned back, panting, staring at the fiberglass tiles of the dorm ceiling, as Sean stood up and cleaned off his chest.
“Did you just… come, just from jacking me off?” he asked, half-laughing.
I blushed.
“I guess I did… it felt kind of like we were sharing your dick for a moment.”
He put his boxers back on. He offered me one of his big SUNY t-shirts to use for pajamas, it covered more than my skimpy dress did.
“Haha! No! Bad Meghan! That dick is mine!” he scolded me like a misbehaving animal. I laughed it off, but I felt extremely exposed. If I could just shove this memory of mentally stealing his dick into a psychic garbage incinerator, I could succeed in never thinking about how strange and fulfilling it was again.
===
After that weekend of nightclub dancing and sex, the semester got going. Between the stress of classes, the anxiety at the bursar’s office, and the internship search, along with a disorienting amount of chaos resulting from the shrinking virus taking away more staff and students than we expected, it was Halloween before I knew it. Sasha was still full-sized, and still my best friend and roommate, thankfully, since her costumes always came out amazingly.
We took turns changing into our home-made Hobbit cosplays. She had lent me one of her binders, which felt like an overly tight sports bra that kept the girls in check enough for the chest of my Hobbit outfit to fit correctly. She said that costume departments and cosplayers use binders all the time for cross-dressing.
The final touch was a skill we learned from YouTube, of contouring with makeup to make our faces look a little more masculine. We finished our makeup next to each other in the girl’s bathroom, then stepped back to look at the results in the bathroom’s one section of stained full-length mirror.
“Woah,” I said, staring at what looked like a spitting image of Sam and Frodo reflected back to us. My heart skipped a beat, and jumped into my throat. I looked so much better like this than I had in any of the other costumes I had worn throughout the years. I looked better like this than I had in my prom photos. I had a pull of longing, wishing that I could look like this every day.
Women don’t look like this. Especially not women like me, who want a good job after graduation. I knew that it was just a matter of a few short months before I had to embrace the cult of the high heel and the tight-but-business-appropriate skirt to be taken seriously anywhere outside of a college campus.
“Thanks for helping with this, Meghan.” Sasha said, looking proudly at her reflection. “You’re a natural with the sewing machine!”
“Thanks for teaching me - and come on, you still did most of the work.”
“We can fellate ourselves later. It’s the biggest party night of the year. The world isn’t going to stand still while we stare at ourselves like Narcissus. Let’s party,” she said.
If Narcissus was a beautiful young man, like I now looked in this costume, I couldn’t blame him for staring at his own reflection all day.
====
We left to walk to the big Halloween frat party on the other side of campus. We passed by the former psychological counseling building that had been converted to a safe house for shrunken students and staff. According to my psych major friend, student volunteers were apparently putting together a scaled-down version of Halloween for the lucky shrunk people who had made their way there. I imagined a hundred pencil-eraser-sized people dancing a conga line around a single candy bar as their party spread, and I couldn’t help but smile. What sort of a storybook life did they even have?
As we walked past the soccer field, we saw a student seemingly disappear before our eyes, replaced by an empty pile of clothing. He was with a group of several friends, all of whom stooped down to help him.
“Does anyone have a shrunken shelter on them?”
A man dressed like Deadpool got a shrunken shelter out of his backpack, and started searching through the clothes for his fallen friend.
“There he is. Remember, whisper, normal talking is too loud for his ears right now.”
This was the first time I had seen someone shrink in front of me. My mouth was open in awe, but I remembered myself, and I closed it, as Sasha and I walked past this scene. I felt bad for gawking. The friend group didn’t even bat an eye at us. They were too focused on helping.
“Speaking of that. You have a shrunken shelter with you? I have mine,” Sasha said, once we were out of earshot.
“Of course. In my leather satchel. I know what to do if we see someone shrink.”
We kept our eyes out for any shrunken students who needed help as we kept walking. Sasha had rescued a fingernail-sized gay woman she found in the bathroom last spring, but I hadn’t seen any shrunken people up-close yet. When I thought too much about shrunken gay people, I get nervous about accidentally stepping on one, or about someone I know better shrinking. I had lost a few acquaintances, professors, and classmates to the virus so far, but no good friends or close family members yet.
A woman dressed in a spectacular robot costume, decked out in glowing wires, walking on stilts, walked past us, taking my mind off dark ideas. Sasha and I marveled at her.
“She’s going to win the costume contest!” Sasha said.
After a few more minutes of walking past people in their costumes, ranging from zero effort pumpkin t-shirts to Burning-Man-style art pieces, we got to the big Halloween party, and started to enjoy ourselves. The music pounded, the beer flowed, and the drugs went every which way.
10:00 came around, which was when Sean was supposed to join us here. I hadn’t heard a peep from him, or seen him in the party crowd. I started checking my phone nervously at 10:30.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sean’s supposed to be here by now.”
“Oh, yeah. That sucks,” Sasha said flatly. “What a pity.”
“Come on. I know you think he’s boring, or something.”
“No, it’s not that. He’s just so… here, let’s talk in the backyard. I need some quiet.”
I finished off the last dregs of the cheap beer in my red cup and I tossed it in the garbage next to the sliding doors in the kitchen. We walked through them and onto the back porch.
A motion-sensor turned on a white LED light above us, and I looked around. Nobody else was out here with us. The party sound was muted, and we could see nothing but the outlines of dark trees in the backyard in front of us. There was a crescent moon peeking through the still-leafy branches. We leaned on the railing on the left edge of the porch.
“What do you have against Sean?” I asked Sasha.
“There’s nothing wrong with him, really. I know you like him a lot.”
“I love him. He’s kind-hearted, he’s sexy, he’s affectionate, and charming. He’s -”
“I know, I know. I just think he’s not really a good match - ach.”
She shook her head, and looked down, rubbing her forehead with her hand. I only saw her do that when she was nervous. She looked back at me.
“I have to stop talking, now. Meghan, I can’t try to give you advice about him. Because I can’t be objective about you twos’ relationship.”
As she spoke, I listened, but I also took her beauty in. She even looked great in the harsh light of the porch safety light, and she really looked like a man, with the binder and gender-bending makeup. I started wishing she was a man, so that I could actually be attracted to her - because she would be an amazing boyfriend. Genuinely compassionate, creative, patient, funny. Honestly, she was a lot of things that Sean tried to be, but failed at.
She noticed that I had been staring at her too long for ‘just roommates’. She was blushing, and she looked down again.
“Why can’t you be objective about him and I?”
She looked me in the eyes, and I could see tears starting on the edges. “Because I want to be your boyfriend,” she said finally.
“Boyfriend?” I asked, stunned by her impossible desire. “But - but - I really only date men,” I stammered.
Was Sasha a man? I stared at her, and plumbed the depths of my memory to figure out how masculine she really was. Her way of speaking, her dress, her attitude, her taste in music and booze and pastimes. She even watched football, for God’s sake. I’ve never met a college-aged woman who watched football.
I assigned “he” to Sasha, and it was like an out-of-focus image of the person in front of me came into sharp detail.
“If you only date men, then just let me be your man,” he said, before he came closer, and placed his lips onto mine. I yielded, and wrapped my arms around his slight shoulders. We kissed madly, tasting each other, gripping each others’ bodies over our costumes.
“Let’s go back to the dorm,” he said, putting his hand out. I grabbed it, and held it giddily, like I was keeping a secret.
We turned around, and I spied Sean in the kitchen, through the sliding door. My heart thumped in my chest, the sound filled my ears. Sasha gripped my hand harder.
“He was going to find out sooner or later. Might as well rip the bandaid off,” Sasha said, when he spotted Sean.
“But-”
“I’m done playing pretend. All my cards will be on the table, for now on.”
Sasha looked at me, then held my hand firmly as he turned his head towards Sean. I was not ready for a fight between my old boyfriend and my brand new one, but it was inevitable, so I braced for a fight. I took a deep breath, and began to walk forward.
My step faltered. It never reached the ground. I felt stuck in time, as the single moment of my footstep stretched out. The action of the party I saw through the lit glass doors in front of me somehow paused. The world’s details stuttered, and became the shape of a tunnel, somehow zooming out and in at the same time.
The ground rushed towards me. The only sounds I could hear were my own heartbeat and rushing wind.
Throughout all of this, the only normal thing I could sense was Sasha’s hand firmly in mine. He kept hold the entire time, and seemed to be experiencing this time and ground rushing along with me, because he also let out a startled yelp.
The wind stopped. I looked at Sasha. He was still holding my hand, but he was now stark naked, tits and unshaved cunt and all. He started laughing, and I looked down at myself, noticing that I was completely bare as well.
“What the fuck?” I asked.
I stood up, and fell on my ass, letting go of Sasha’s hand. I was on some stretchy fabric floor, a little like a trampoline made out of rough burlap. The tunnel vision started to clear, and I rubbed my eyes for good measure.
“I guess we’re gay enough for this fucking virus.”
“What?”
“We shrunk, Meghan. Look around.”
I looked around. We were standing on the black, thick fabric that was my binder. It was now the size of a large college classroom to us. If I had to guess, we both seemed to be about a centimeter tall now.
“No. No! This isn’t fair! You’re a transgender man! I’m a straight woman, so, we’re safe, this is a normal, heterosexual attraction!” I shouted at the curse, or the virus, whatever it was, for its ambiguous rules. Were transgender people queer too? Does that mean that even a straight attraction to a trans person is queer? I never learned about this in health class, that curriculum was removed by lawmakers a year before I took it.
“Are you straight? You seemed to really enjoy wearing this binder we’re standing on.”
I said nothing. I looked away from him.
“You got the binder ‘just for the costume’, right?”
This binder was his idea, not mine.
“This is your fault!” I shouted, turning back to him. “I’m just… I fell for your transgender brainwashing!”
“Come on, Meghan. You’re trying to tell me that you’ve never imagined a different body for yourself? A man’s body?”
“I haven’t-” I looked down from him. I could feel that I was red in the face.
“I saw you watching that gay man’s point of view porn the other day. The guy with the huge cock who fucks his twink roommate.”
“I- that’s just-”
“You came when the porn showed the point-of-view guy cumming. That’s one of my favorite videos, too.”
I shook my head.
“It’s - okay, but that’s just a gender change fetish. It’s not a gender identity. It doesn’t mean I’m queer!”
“Right, egg.” Sasha said, gesturing pointedly at the giant binder we were standing on.
“Do you think I don’t remember the dreams you’ve told me, about being Eddie from Stranger Things? Your trans X-Men dreams about being Wolverine? Lemme know when you wanna change your pronouns and name.”
All of these confused feelings from my life came back to me in a flood. The intense crushes I had on my male classmates that felt totally nonsexual – until I’d have a dream about having their flat-chested, muscular body. It all fell into place as I sat on top of my enormous breast-trapping binder.
I stood up. It was now officially too late to deny anything.
“Speaking of ripping off bandaids, Sasha. If I could really pick any new name - well. I’ve always thought that Zack sounded cool.”
“It is cool. I never told you this before, but online, I go by Gabriel. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Zack.”
“He / him,” I added.
“Oh! Me too!” he high-fived me. I smiled, forgetting how screwed we were for a moment.
I had watched a YouTube video about a tiny man surviving in the wild. I remembered all of the rules he presented, including, never go outside of your enclosure at night. There was no way of avoiding that for us, now.
We carefully walked over the bouncy, unstable fabric, looking for shelter.
As we reached the edge of the huge underwear, the sliding doors that were now hundreds of our-scale-feet in front of us, slid open. The now-skyscraper-sized Sean was sliding it along its loudly-screeching track. He and his dorm roommate Josh were walking outside, probably to smoke a joint.
I was not prepared for this encounter when we still looked like members of the same species. Now that I was the size of a ladybug, I stopped dead in my tracks, and stared up in horror, at my clearly tipsy, gigantic, soon-to-be-ex, boyfriend.
The sneakers of the pair of college titans shook the wood of the back patio with every step. They laughed at some joke, and even though their heads were so far above us, it sounded like overly loud concert speakers blasting our ear drums. I jumped up and down and waved my arms, hoping he’d see us, and at least take us to the sanctuary building.
Last spring, at a crowded cafeteria table, Sean had told me he would bring a tiny to a sanctuary, if he ever found one. I believed him, then.
I had my doubts, now. He could have an unbecoming cruel streak when he was drunk, and it had gotten worse lately.
========
Sean went to the kitchen to toss his empty beer can into the recycling pile that was overflowing from the trash bin. Josh was standing in front of the kitchen table laid out with orange and purple jello shots, chatting with some freshman about his “The Boys” costume.
“I loved that show, but the last - oh hey! Sean!”
Josh and Sean’s faces both lit up in recognition.
“Hey Josh! You got anything good on you?”
Josh patted his pockets, then grinned wide.
“Hell yeah, I do. I got a pack of state store joints from California.”
“I knew I could count on you, big J. This week’s been shit. I need to get fucked. Up. Let’s go out on the back porch.”
Josh offered weed to the freshman, whom politely declined.
The two seniors walked out of the back door of the crowded party. They took a few steps onto the porch before looking down.
“What? Somebody left their clothes out here?” Josh asked.
“Ooh,” Sean said, with a slight touch of excitement. “You know what that is, don’t you, Josh?” he asked.
“What?”
“You really smoke too much. Piles of clothes. It’s costumes from a pair of shrunken fags.”
“Oh, I see.” Josh put his joint back in its case for a moment. That could wait. This was more interesting.
“You’ve never seen this?” Sean asked.
“No. I’ve seen it from a distance, and my girlfriend told me about how she rescued a shrunk fag once. But I never saw it happen in front of me like this. Have you?”
“Yeah, last winter. I came across a pair of them, in clothes like this. I crushed ‘em. I mean, when they’re that small, they’re…”
Sean paused, searching for the right words.
“I mean, they’re not people anymore. They’re fag-bugs. Serves em right for behaving that way in the era of the shrink virus.”
“We’re on the same page, Sean. You wanna do the honors?” Josh suggested, hesitation in his voice. He wasn’t as sure about the morals of crushing tiny gay men as Sean was. He had a gay friend once in high school, before he moved away. But Josh didn’t want to pick a fight about politics with his best friend.
“I’d love to,” Sean said, as he considered his options in his head.
Last time, Sean had crushed the shrunken fags under his winter boots. It was fast, but afterwards, he remembered being disappointed that he hadn’t really felt the crunch through the thick rubber soles.
This time, Sean wanted to really savor all of the sensations these little sodomite specks could afford him.
Sean knelt down, and looked for the two little men. It didn’t take long - unlike the last two, who were fleeing and hiding, these two were jumping up and down, clearly trying to get his attention.
It was dark out here, since the porch light was mostly blocked by Sean’s body, but there was just enough reflected light that he could make out the pale skin of the two men against the black tank-top they were jumping up and down on.
They looked like incredibly frail, long-legged bugs, but they moved their limbs frantically, gesturing for him to notice them. Why?
A thought bubbled up through Sean’s beer-soaked mind. These shrunken faggots were getting his attention because they expected him to rescue them.
How delicious.
===============
As ‘Gabriel’/’Sasha’ and I jumped up and down, I prayed that Sean would notice us. By a miracle, he did. He gestured towards us while talking to Josh. He then leaned down towards us. He shifted his weight onto his knees, shaking the porch beneath us so much that Gabriel and I both fell onto our backs. He was now resting his mountain-like form on the edge of my Frodo costume. I was excited to show it to him earlier this night, I knew that he loved the movies as a kid.
Sean’s head of shaggy blonde hair was lit from behind by the porchlight. It glowed like a gargantuan angel’s halo. We were now in a deep shadow, as his awesome shape had blocked all of the light from directly hitting us.
It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light in his shadow. As soon as I could make his billboard-like face out in the dimness, I saw that it was twisted into an amused smirk.
“You two sinners want me to rescue you?” he whispered. I could make that out over the background noise. His overwhelming whisper sounded like hisses coming out of a broken jet engine.
“Yes!” I screamed.
Sinners, I wondered? The relief of being rescued by my lover fought directly with the fear that came from being described that way by my sweet – but half-assed-Christian – boyfriend.
Gabriel stopped waving his arms. He looked at me in terror.
“Fuck that! Flee with me, Zack!”
Gabriel turned around, and started making his way across the stretchy floor into a fabric crevice a few dozen scale-feet behind us.
“Sean! Don’t you recognize us? It’s - me! ‘Meghan!’ And that’s - um-”
I hesitated. Sean and I could talk about our new names and pronoun sets after we survived this Satanic Saturday night.
“- that’s Sasha, my roommate!”
I saw nothing register on Sean’s oversized face in response to my words. He probably couldn’t even hear me.
I was reminded of the last time I had heard a cricket chirp - shrill, but formless in phrase.
As I was realizing the hopelessness of getting the giant to recognize us, he moved his train-length forearm forward, reaching his hand towards Gabriel. It took up my entire sky as it passed just a few scale-stories over me.
Two of his horrifying fingers, each one three times as thicker as I was tall, pinched around Gabriel. Gabriel screamed in terror, as he was lifted up. I had no idea how hard Sean was pressing down on Gabriel with his titanic fingertips.
I zigged and zagged, running towards another fabric fold to Sean’s left. Without expending any effort, the giant simply moved his hand toward me, faster than I could possibly outrun, and pinched me with those same fingers. I was now right next to Gabriel, though all I could see was Sean’s thick, ridged fingerprint skin directly in front of my pinned face.
“Gabriel!” I screamed.
“Zach!” he screamed back.
“We’re alive!” I reached out to him, and we found each others’ hands, between the all-encompassing finger pads. We squeezed each other’s palms tightly. Tears started forming in my eyes in relief. Maybe we would get through this horror together. Maybe this was just Sean’s lazy, drunk way of getting us to a shrunken shelter.
After this, at the shelter, we could live with the other tiny gay people. We could all wait for the shrinking virus vaccine together. It didn’t even matter if the normal gay men - the ones who weren’t transgender, what’s that word? I heard it once, before the virus made it terrifying to talk about those topics with gay people - anyway, even if the natural-born gay men didn’t accept us as ‘real’ shrunken men. It didn’t matter. Gabriel and I could be each other’s soulmates in the shelter, until the cure for the shrinking virus was finally discovered. And then, at normal size, we could finish college together.
I was broken out of my fantasizing by my stomach turning. Our huge captor quickly turned his hand upside down, and let go of Gabriel and I. We fell a short distance to the top of Sean’s palm, instinctively turning to place our hands under us in the fall, letting go of each other.
“You two on a date tonight? You just had to keep being gay as hell instead of just straightening up and dating women?”
I didn’t even know where to start with this tirade the truck-sized mouth was whispering towards us. I had finally caught my breath after the fall onto the huge, sweaty palm. It smelled like garlic pizza and gym equipment.
Knowing that this might be the end, I used all of my strength to crawl over to Gabriel. I grabbed his hand. He grabbed mine back, then brought me close. We laid on the enormous palm, naked, holding each other tight. The feeling of Gabriel’s soft, loving, naked body against the front of mine was like a sensory shield against the rough, hateful skin and voice we were both surrounded by. I wished the roles were reversed, and it was Gabriel’s palm – yielding, compassionate, enraptured - that I was sitting on instead.
“You two are so addicted to sucking cock that it was worth the risk of shrinking? You couldn’t even act normal, even just to save your own lives. Pathetic.” Sean said.
I kissed Gabriel. He kissed back. We started making out like our lives could be saved by it. In a final act of defiance, Gabriel moved his mouth to my cunt and started sucking it.
“You insatiable pervs, you’re still trying to fuck on my hand. Gross!” Sean said, before crushing us quickly between his palm and his left index finger.
My giant ex-boyfriend’s finger was so fast, and so powerful, that I didn’t even notice that I had been killed. I didn’t have time to feel pain. The lights simply went out forever for Gabriel and I.
=========
“Dude, gross. They were trying to have a threesome on my hand,” Sean said to Josh, wiping the red smears that used to be two people onto his jeans and shuddering. He stood up. “I gotta go wash the gay off my hands. Wait for me with the joint, don’t bogart,” Sean said.
Sean had really wanted to savor that moment of crushing the two sinners. Instead, he came away from the defiant threesome grossed out, and, much to his horror, a tiny bit turned on. He had a semi in this public place right now.
Sean thought un-sexy thoughts about physics homework as he washed his hands 3 times in a row in the frat house bathroom sink. His hands still felt greasy with faggotry, but he knew it was in his head - he had used plenty of soap.
“Not gonna shrink,” he thought to himself, as he got back to the party.
While smoking the joint a few minutes later, Sean noticed that his jeans felt a little looser than he remembered. His shirt was baggier than he thought he remembered, too.
“Dude, you’re just getting paranoid. This stuff is Sativa, it does that anxiety attack stuff more than the type we usually get, Indica,” Josh explained the ways of the herb sagely.
Sean’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Besides, you’re so-o-o not gay. You have that really hot girlfriend, remember? Who you like in a completely straight way?”
Sean remembered the time Meghan had cross dressed for a theater performance. Does that make her - what’s the word - transed gendered? Which would then make him gay? And shrinkable? He suddenly wanted to throw up.
“That bitch - that theater fag-hag bitch - with that lesbian roommate - freaks! If I shrink it’s all Meghan’s fault!” Sean ranted out loud.
“It’ll be fine, if you just chill. I need you to relax.” Josh tried to stay as calm as possible, like an adult navigating a kid’s tantrum. He took the last drag off of the shared joint, and crushed it under his sneaker.
“Where is Meghan, anyway? Wasn’t she supposed to meet you at this party?”
“Fuck if I know. I was getting sick of her, anyway,” Sean replied, trying to make his fear of her tainting queerness sound nonchalant. “Let’s go see what’s happening at Bacchus.”
The two drunk men left the party, into the shrinking-virus-full October night, trying to hide their mutual fear from each other. The terror that weighed on their every cross-faded footstep was that of stray queerness- of faggotry that they might catch on the wind, as easily as getting a whiff of a distant Halloween bonfire.
