Wish You Were Here?

Black Friday... Cyber Monday... Now there was Travel Tuesday? The capitalistic desire to invent commodified faux holidays to get people to buy junk was abysmal. And nevertheless, Eric's distaste didn't stop him from browsing the latest travel deals that kept cropping up in his feed. It wasn't like he could afford a vacation at the moment, nor did he have any strong desire to go anywhere. It'd be nice to have something to look forward to, aside from the annual family visit to the great lakes about 9 months away. Maybe he could find something amazing for Spring Break. Something more than the typical booze-laden trip to Vegas or Miami.

It was getting late, and nothing had caught his eye, when a bright ad interrupted his scrolling. "WISH YOU WERE HERE??" It declared in bold colours. It showed a woman in a dull grey home tapping on beachfront property on her phone, and now she was relaxing in the summer sun with a cocktail in hand. Nothing too groundbreaking. "TRAVEL TUESDAY EXCLUSIVE TRIAL!" Now that caught his eye. What would a trial entail? Curiousity got the better of him. 

The trial, it turned out, was a free "ticket" to be used on a limited selection of vacation properties around the world. "This is your ticket to far-flung destinations worldwide! You can really go places!" Yeah right, thought Eric as he scrolled through the website, which was more like a home listings site than a vacation rental destination. There were rentals in San Francisco, Rio de Janeiro, Seoul, Brisbane, Johannesburg, Lisbon. None of which were included in the introductory offer. Figures there'd be a catch. Even a free stay in Vegas seemed out of the question.

Eric barely flicked through what was included before deciding it was a dud. Except for one. A homely cabin in the middle of a forest, overlooking the Innvikfjorden in Norway. Unlike the other listings, it promised total immersion in the country, whatever that meant. Maybe it had to do with the owner of the property, a lonesome captain who guided tours around the nearby fjords and glaciers. Staying with a local certainly added a flair of authenticity to the affair, after all.

Eric had always fancied visiting Scandinavia one day, he had Viking blood according to an ancestry test his mom had done a few years prior. And spending the winter holidays surrounded by beautiful scenery and actual snow was tempting. It sure beat the eighty-odd degrees he was still experiencing in Arizona. But the price of travelling to Europe was a deterrant in itself. Wasn't Norway supposed to be one of the most expensive countries in the world? One the happiest too, apparently...

WISH YOU WERE HERE? The website silently declared next to the listing. He hovered his mouse over the YES button. Something about it made him hesitate. Did he really wish he was there? In the snow-capped mountain fjords? Well, it couldn't hurt to see where it led him. The second it asked for passport details or a credit card number, he could easily exit the page. Eric tapped that glowing button, and the screen was replaced by a cool toned loading screen. A whirring cog span in the center, while a progress bar slowly crept upwards. "LOADING - RECALIBRATING"

An unearthly chill ran through Eric's body. Maybe he shouldn't have done that... He stood up from his chair, and the whole room spun. He gripped his head, trying to ease the sudden wooziness. What was going on? It looked like his room was... Glitching? His bed flickered as it grew from a single, spooling out sideways into a king bed, the cool blue blankets switching to a comfy green duvet. His wardrobes similarly changed dimensions from a wooden cabinet into a floor-to-ceiling panelled walls. Was he dreaming? It was late, but not "fell asleep without realising" late...

He had to see if this was happening elsewhere. Eric left his bedroom, the door handle changing in his hands, and wandered down the hallway. It was much the same. There were parts of the apartment he recognised, parts that looked like a stranger's home. Others were in mid-change. It was a headache-inducing hodgepodge, like a mismatched puzzle. "Vince?" He called out to his roommates. "St-Steven? Anyone...?" It wasn't just his home, he himself felt peculiar too. He groaned as he grabbed at his clothes. They felt tight on him, they were constricting around him. Step by step, the seams ripped apart, fabric flaking off of his bare skin. 

He turned a corner into the main living area, only to come across a wooden staircase leading down to places unknown. He started moving towards them, body working on automatic. "Anyone down there?" He called once more, his voice catching in his throat as he realised what a stupid question it was. Of course there was nobody, he was the only one awake in this nightmarish realm. At the bottom of the stairs was another hallway and, by extension, an open-plan living room. On one side of the wall was a brick fireplace, on the other was a cabinet with a mirror overhead. If Eric wasn't taking the shifting nature of his home very well, then he certainly wasn't prepared for what he might see reflected back.

There, he couldn't believe what he saw. A man with a dark goatee, and hair across his body. Wearing the same red plaid robe he'd been so comfortable in, and nothing else. Eric instinctively tried to cover up his nudity, but the robe was starting to fray, as if not wanting to hide this majesty away. But it wasn't right, he shouldn't be this man. He was a youthful eighteen, he'd just started college a few months ago. But his reflection looked be a decade older, at least. He could barely grow a few chin hairs, let alone the goatee he was stroking. As he stared in the mirror, he could see more hairs poking through the skin above his lip, a burgeoning mustache.And then those bouncy pecs smothered with hair. He was just your average skater build, and now he looked like he'd been working out for years. It couldn't be real, it was just some twisted nightmare.

Eric turned away, too frightened to look at himself any longer. There, he noticed a large, square window. Outside, the sky was glowing a faint purple, the early signs of the sunrise. How was that possible, it had barely turned midnight. Upon closer look, the surrounding neighborhood looked more arboraceous than usual. The treeline looked like it was slowly engulfing the houses and apartment blocks. A white dust perched on the rooftops, and the tips of the trees. Wait, not dust. Snow. It was snowing...

It finally dawned on him. The changing home. The winter landscape. You can really go places... That website was being literal, it was transporting him to Norway, one glitchy room at a time! Which definitely meant that this was all just a dream. The relief washed over Eric all at once. He really had just fallen asleep at his computer. He'd never had a lucid dream before, did they always feel this real? He reached up and grabbed his chest, feeling the slabs of muscle and fur he now possessed. They felt incredibly realistic, he could have sworn he was handling the real things. The way the brain could create such sensations was a marvel in itself.

Eric turned back to the window, the houses had all but been replaced with acres and acres of unspoiled forest. A gentle snow fluttered in the breeze, almost glowing in the dawn light. In the distance, he could see the distinct folds and cliffs of the mountains, and the faintest glint of the fjord below. He felt like even if he'd seen this view a thousand times before, he'd never be tired of it. He had the weirdest inkling that he had, in fact, seen this exact view a thousand times. In fact, it wasn't the only thing that was becoming familiar to him.

Distinct memories of a life never lived were beginning to play in his mind. Of growing up in this home, of birthdays and Christmasses. Good days and bad days. Inheriting the house from his father, and starting a family of his own. It came to the point where Eric struggled to remember what his real apartment used to look like. Was it an apartment? It wasn't very big. Not as big as the house he occupied now. And he had to share it with others. There were two of them, but he could only remember having one roommate, if you could call it that. Why couldn't he remember their names, or even their faces? He focused hard, the image of an older man with a white goatee and a full-on dad bod came into focus. Surely that wasn't his college roommate, right?

In his stupor, Eric turned once more to his reflection. He was different, even moreso than before. He stood there, taking in his own visage. Things had certainly progressed more than he expected. In front of him was a man well into his forties, with a short salt and pepper beard, and a truly brawny build. Built up from manual labour, all those days, weeks, months, years spent working out in the harsh Nordic climate. He was getting excited as he thought about it. All those years had toughened him, turned him into the man he was today. And he was still growing and maturing. He wanted more, he could be tougher. He could be more rugged.

Eric couldn't help but notice his cock was rock hard. And why wouldn't it be? He was becoming a real man's man who worked with his own two hands out in the wilderness. Who let the elements beat away at his body to create a work of art in ways only nature could. Even now, he could see the grays rippling through his beard, and the follicles slipping away from his scalp. Under any other circumstance, he imagined he'd fear what he was becoming. But right here, right now, he knew he was becoming who he was meant to be.

He took his cock in his palm, rough and calloused from decades of use, and slowly teased himself. He tugged and pulled as he had done so many times before. With every tug, the skin loosened and lengthened, until he had managed to conjure up a new foreskin that so gracefully slid up and down his pale pink head and boosted his pleasure in ways that were both unknown and familiar to him. The final pieces were starting to slip into place, and he was a little afraid of where it will end. But as memories of his new life in the woods, felling trees and chopping logs for fuel. Of sailing out on the fjord, trawling nets through the waters to catch the freshest of fish. Of singing, and drinking, and dancing, and celebrating, and loving. There was that man again, with the kind blue eyes, and the shaggy white hair. His voice a joyous melody, his embrace warm and comforting. The only captain he admired more than himself. "Min elskling..." he gasped as he quickened his pace. "Min Leif..."

Eric shuddered as he came with a muffled roar, shooting his load across the wooden floorboards, panting heavily. He looked down at the mess with a tender smile. Even after all these years, the love of his life could bring him to such a climax. Erik wiped the his palms against his plaid shirt. He had planned on going out to get started on clearing the snow. But that could wait for now. He was perfectly content to wait, the heat pump he installed years back still keeping the home warm and toasty. He gazed out of the window, taking in the morning rays across the untouched wilderness outside his home. It was a rare moment where the cruise ships weren't polluting the fjord, and all was calm. The days were amongst their shortest at this time of year, so he tried to savor whatever sun he could. 

With a content sigh, Erik stumbled back, and fell into his favourite chair. This was the life. He stroked his shaggy beard, almost entirely grey at this point. Such is life. Even his chest hair was making the turn. It wouldn't be long before it was all white, if he hadn't lost all of the hair up top by then. Such is life. He sighed. He was getting on in years. Sixty as of last month. He wasn't as limber as he used to be. He had mostly given up control of his fishing boat to the younger men, preferring to run the operations on land. It wouldn't be long before he passed the company onto his sons completely. But for now, he was still spry and keen to work.He could think about the future some other day.

As the morning rays bathed the room in a gentle glow, Erik could almost fall back asleep. Memories of hot, snowless winters, and college life in America were dancing tantalizingly at the back of his mind. A short burst of vibration jolted him back to reality. There was a flashing light on his phone. Curious, he picked up the outdated clunker, and there was a message splashed across the cracked screen.

ØNSKER DU VAR ET ANNET STED? EKSKLUSIVT REISETISDAGSTILBUD! TRE BILLETTER TIL PRISEN AV TO. KLIKK HER!

Erik chuckled as he read the strange message. What on earth was Travel Tuesday, and why would he need tickets for it? And why would he want to be anywhere else? This was his home. He'd grown up overlooking the fjords. And In a few short years, he'll retire and live a comfortable life with his husband Leif overlooking the fjords. Speaking of whom, it was about time for the old captain to be waking up. Those tour boats didn't run themselves, after all.