Terry's Terrific morning (Patreon)

Paul shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning, wearing the same plaid pajama pants he’d owned since college. He'd heard someone in there expecting to find his shy twinkish roommate he'd been stuck with this year...He stopped dead in the doorway.

Terry was standing at the counter. Or… at least Paul thought it was Terry. The man beside the fridge looked like he’d eaten Terry and absorbed his essence. His t-shirt clung on for dear life, stretched tight across shoulders that looked capable of uprooting trees. His arms were thicker than Paul’s thighs, and his red briefs left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Terry?” Paul croaked.

“Morning,” Terry said casually, before gulping down some milk. His voice was deeper, richer — like someone had replaced his vocal cords with subwoofers.

Paul blinked. “What the hell?!”

Terry turned, flexing unintentionally "what? my voice sometimes does this in the morning no biggie... hey got any more of this weird milk it was good”

Paul frowned. “You mean the one labeled Experimental Formula 47?"

“Yeah,” Terry said, swallowing the last sip from his glass. “Didn’t taste great, but I feel amazing.”

Paul’s eyes traced the sheer expanse of Terry’s back as the tank top rode up, revealing muscled knots that looked like they were sculpted from granite. heat seemed to rise like a halo around him.

“‘Amazing,’” Paul echoed faintly, still processing. “LOOK at you Terry. I can hear your biceps when you move.”

Terry grinned, flexing one arm experimentally — The glass shattered between his fingers. “Oh shit... better watch it dunno my own strength.”

Paul stared, slack-jawed. “You broke the glass With your fingers.”

Terry shrugged, unbothered, picking up the coffee pot taking a sip straight from it. “Eh. Worth it. You got any more of that milk?”

Paul sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, and thank God. I don’t think the apartment’s big enough for both of you and your… shoulders.”

Terry smirked, leaning against the counter. “would be fun to find out.”

The countertop creaked ominously.