I know that Halloween was a week ago, but I finally got around to finishing this story!
And thanks to @alec789 who made the incredibly hot morph of Tyler Hoechlin / Derek Hale as an actual bodybuilder!
“You cannot really be expecting me to wear that,” Derek scoffed as he stared daggers at the costume in his boyfriend’s clutches.
“Aww, c’mon, it’ll be fun,” Stiles frowned, already dressed in his costume as some obscure indie superhero, his slender body wearing the sexy costume perfectly, making Derek’s mouth water despite his anger.
He handed the grumpy werewolf a muscleman costume, which consisted of padded, skin-colored fabric that would make the alpha appear even bulkier than he is. Halloween had already passed, so he’d already thought that it was idiotic to go to some costume party. That, and he was irked over the cheap-looking material and the slight insinuation that Stiles didn’t think he was buff enough.
The werewolf had muscles for days that filled out his shirts to the point of bursting, and he’d never heard his boyfriend complain about his physique before. Perhaps it was a slight burn to his fragile ego, but Derek Hale was a bit put off at the idea of wearing fake muscles when he already had some.
Despite wanting to argue, the pleading look in the human’s eyes melted the sourwolf’s resolve and he rolled his eyes as he snatched the muscleman costume away from Stiles.
“Fine,” he growled, pulling the polyester outfit on. The padded muscles made him look ridiculous. He fought a sneer as he stared at himself in the mirror, a tight grimace taking over this face as he saw how large and unnatural his already big muscles now looked. Derek felt like he was some kind of superhero caricature with the impossibly humongous muscles that were beyond the realms of possible. Due to his already bulky size, Derek looked like a bodybuilder, making him cringe at the idea of actually being one of those guys who obsessively worked out in the gym to grow their bodies to grotesque sizes.
“I think you look pretty hot,” Stiles offered, walking up and placing a hand on Derek’s padded shoulder.
The werewolf meant to give Stiles a snarky response, but instead he felt himself flex an arm, the padding bunching up to actually look like he was flexing his bicep. “Makes me look swole, right?” he said, his eyebrows scrunching together at what he’d just said.
Stiles didn’t think anything of it and instead smiled widely up at his boyfriend. “I knew you’d get into it!” he cheered. “The shop owner said that this costume would fit anyone! I tried to get you a cowboy one, but he said that you’d look great in this one. Says he knows you. Small world, right?”
Derek started to piece together what he’d just heard, his wide eyes darting back towards the mirror immediately.
“I gotta use the bathroom and then we’ll be out!” Stiles called out as he left the bedroom.
Some unknown shop owner had persuaded Stiles to buy this costume for him, and apparently he knew him? Derek knew that sounded too coincidental, especially since Beacon Hills seemed to be an epicenter for all things supernatural.
The alpha werewolf frantically reached behind him to unzip the costume and tear it away from him. However, the stud audibly whimpered when his hands ran over where the zipper was supposed to be, only to be met with a smooth patch of skin. Even the edges of the costume had fused with his skin, making it near impossible to discern what was fabric and what was flesh.
“What the fuck?” Derek panicked as he ran his hands all over his body, a shiver running down his spine when he noticed that the padded muscles had started to feel harder, more like actual muscles. That, and he felt the sensation of running his fingers over bare skin, not a costume.
His heart raced in his larger chest as Derek’s eyes ran over his muscled up form. The muscleman costume had somehow fused with his body, effectively turning him into some oversized bodybuilder. The werewolf ran his fingers all over his new form, wincing when he noticed just how limited his range of movement was. His biceps and pecs kept pushing against one another, and his back was so broad that he felt his bulky form sway from side to side when he took a step. His massive trunk-like thighs rolled over each other, turning his walk into a waddle; and he felt his massive, muscular asscheeks shifting and bouncing with every waddle. He was huge— a massive, overinflated bodybuilder.
Stiles came back into the room where Derek was in a silent panic. “Wow, that costume looks really good on you,” he commented, visibly turned on by seeing Derek with such cumbersome pecs. “Like, really good.”
Derek wanted to beg for help, to ask Stiles to help turn him back into his normal body. He didn’t want to be some massive bodybuilder who was so huge that he’d always be the center of attention with his size, never being able to wear regular clothes and always showing off. However, whatever curse the costume had prevented him from doing so. Instead, Derek felt himself throw his almost inflexible arms up into the air to perform a pose.
“Yeah, I love how huge this makes my muscles look,” Derek purred, noting the deeper quality to his voice. “Now let’s get goin’ to that party. I gotta show this hot bod off to everyone.” He bounced his pecs excitedly, both fearful at the thought of being stuck as some cocky bodybuilder, and turned on at the thought of flexing for the smaller human.
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