Again!?

I did not expect to have as long a break as I did, but I'm back! I thought I'd start off by revisiting an old favourite. You might recognise this as a caption I wrote a few years back. I thought I'd look back through my old stuff and take a shot at expanding on them. Are there anything you've read and wished it was a bit longer? Let me know and maybe I'll give it a go!

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I arrived home from a long day at school brimming with anticipation. The weekend was finally here! I had no homework to complete, and no plans. It was just me and my PS4 all weekend long. I kicked my shoes off and dumped my bag on the staircase, only to pause in suspicion. The house seemed quiet. A bit too quiet... I gripped the banister and yelled upstairs. "Hey dad! You home?"

There was a pause before I heard a response. I couldn't make out what he said, it sounded like he was busy with something. He'd promised not to get up to his usual antics this weekend so hopefully he'd gotten a head start on cleaning the house. I fist pumped and darted into the living room, jumping over the side of the sofa to land on the soft cushions below. I grabbed the TV remote, started up the PS4 and got comfy. I'd had a busy week, and I was ready to play some games. I stretched my thumbs across the controller with a goofy grin, I really missed this. I barely had the time to do anything for myself recently. I was more than ready for some me time. I scrolled through my games library, a small twinge of guilt at how many I had yet to play. A few minutes of debilitating later, I finally decided on an old favourite. 

Yet before I could start it up, my stomach growled and I felt a sharp tingle run down my spine. It was a peculiar, unpleasant feeling that I had become familiar with, much to my disappointment. It's been almost a year since the first time and it still felt weird. I cursed out loud and jumped to my feet, tossing the controller aside. Why now of all times, he'd promised me a break this weekend! Already, I felt that uncomfortable, inflating sensation. Like someone was pumping me with gas. I yanked my shirt off in one swift movement, noticing how my chest seemed to swell with every breath I took. A couple of little hairs had sprung up around my nipples and the centre of my chest. 

Next, I unbuckled my belt and shimmied my jeans down my thicker, hairier thighs. I struggled a moment to get my feet through the leg holes, eventually losing my balance and falling back onto the sofa. I sighed in frustration, I've been through this ordeal a hundred times, at least, yet I still struggled with it. It would help if my dad didn't spring it on me without prior warning. I yanked my underwear off, freeing my junk from their tight, cotton confines. I scratched at my chin as sharp stubble broke through the skin in irritating waves. 

No longer at risk of destroying my clothes, I laid back on the sofa and waited for the changes to finish, mentally cursing my dad for using that remote again. By now, I looked like a college graduate with a slim yet firm body, and a decent spread of hair across my chest. Although I never stayed that way for long, as I raced through my twenties without much fanfare. As I continued to age, I could feel my muscles ache as they bulked up, which was always a welcome feeling. I grinned as my biceps inflated, and my thighs got meatier.

As I approached my forties, my scalp felt itchy as each individual hair faded in colour, focused mostly on the sides but a wave of steel grey eventually swept throughout. My skin grew weathered and rough as a subtle thickness blanketed my buff muscles. I flinched slightly as a tattoo inked itself into existence on my shoulder, which signalled the end of my growth spurt. I leaned back against the sofa with a sigh. Aging three decades in a few minutes certainly takes a lot out of you. I may have gone through the process dozens of times by now but it never got any easier.

You see, about a year ago, Phillip came found this small remote control buried deep in a freebie box at a garage sale. It had a single button on it and nothing else. No battery compartment, no antenna, nothing. It seemed useless at the time but he decided to keep it anyway. When he handed it over to me on the off-chance I knew what it did, I felt a sudden pain in my thumb like it had been pricked, despite the remote having smooth, rounded edges. Phillip said he felt the same thing when he first picked it up. We didn't learn until much later that the remote used blood magic, forming a bond between two family members. With the bond formed, the button emitted a soft glow. Without thinking, Phillip pressed the button and the rest is history, as they say.

We couldn't swap back straight away since it can take 8 hours for the remote to recharge. But we didn't know that at the time. For all we knew, the swap was permanent. Phillip was pretty ecstatic with the outcome, of course. He was a skinny, carefree teenager again. He wouldn't have to worry about work, or paying the bills, or the encroaching mid-life crisis that had left him an overweight divorcee.

Meanwhile, I was less than enthusiastic at suddenly becoming a middle-aged man. Sure, I was in far better shape than Phillip was, but my hair was still turning white, I had aches in my joints, and my skin was leathery and weathered. That's not even counting the adult responsibilities that had been forced onto me. It took me an hour before the shock passed and I had time to realise the new freedoms that I had as an adult.

Phillip was already deep into reconnecting with his childhood, gorging on sugary snacks and trying to get the hang of playing on the Playstation. I decided to leave him to it and venture out into town instead. I actually drove the car unsupervised for the first time, but it felt like I'd been doing it all my life. I didn't even have to think about the rules of the road like in my lessons, I just acted on instinct. I even managed to parallel park with no hassle! I was rather proud of myself.

After a small walk through the town center, I decided I would check out the sports bar. The atmosphere was buzzing, the baseball match was on. Nobody treated me like an outsider, I was just one of the guys. None of them knew I was really as old as their sons. In fact, I was now older than at least half of them! That thought had me buzzing. The bartender didn't ask for ID when he took my order. I had my very first beer, which was bitter yet satisfying. Then another, and another, and that's where things got hazy. 

I don't remember who won the game or where I went next. All I remember is waking up on a park bench the following morning with a sore arm and a throbbing headache, my very first hangover. I was missing my shirt and my upper arm hurt from my freshly inked tattoo. I knew Phillip wouldn't be too pleased... I checked my phone to find many increasingly worried messages from him. I bought a extra strong coffee from a stall and returned home a little humiliated.

After being lectured about the dangers of binge drinking and the permanence of tattoos, Phillip finally cooled down and handed me the remote. The button was glowing again! I wasted no time pressing that button, happily returning to being a typical teenager with a sense of pride. I would cherish my night of adulthood experiences, knowing that it would be a one-time deal.

And that's where the story would normally end. Oh, if only it were that simple... Phillip had gotten a taste of youth that he wasn't willing to give up now that we'd learned how the remote worked. The following weekend, he asked if we could swap again. I was reluctant at first until I recalled my brawny, hairy, adult body, and the respect and admiration it gave me. I didn't even need to be convinced to give it another go. After that, it wasn't long before I was the man of the house every weekend. Which was perfect for a while, until Phillip got greedy. He'd ask to swap in the evenings, or on days off. Eventually, he stopped asking for permission altogether, which has posed some difficult problems for me in the long run...

It's almost like he forgets that for him to be a teen again, I have to be an adult. I'm constantly making sure I have a place to hide from prying eyes in case I begin to burst out of my clothes. My social life has gone out the door since I don't want to abandon my friends mid-hang the minute I start growing stubble. I even carry a spare pair of clothes to school on the off-chance I have a growth spurt in class. Which has already happened once... I tried to sneak out but I was mistaken for a substitute teacher, and ended up teaching the class I was supposed to be in as a student. Then the real substitute turned up and things went awry. That was not a fun day... Since then, I've had a stern word with Phillip about giving me a fair warning before using the remote. But evidently, it's fallen on deaf ears.

Now don't get me wrong, I like being a part-time adult. To be treated with respect and as superior to those who were actually older than me. And of course, it feels great to be so buff and manly. For a guy in his late forties, I'm quite health conscious and always find the time to work out. You don't get a bod like this without some effort! It certainly pays off as I'm constantly getting flirted with. It's a change from school where I tend to keep to myself. I was surprised the first time it happened as a young, college-aged man tried to get my number. But now I'm a little flirty myself. I am prime daddy material, after all. I don't think I'd enjoy being middle aged half as much if I weren't. 

It also helps that my mind matures with my body so I feel as old as I look. I even gain the expertise and knowledge I would come across when aging naturally. I know how to drive by instinct, I know my weightlifting routine by heart, I even know the ins and outs of filing taxes. So it's weird when I just...forget it when I'm a teen again. But it does come in handy as Phillip experiences the opposite effect. He loses vital knowledge alongside his immaturity, including how to do his job properly. You'd think photography and design would be natural talent but Phillip can't even operate Photoshop as a teen. Luckily I've picked up a few of the basics, which gets amplified as an adult, so I tend to fill in where I can. As a freelancer who mainly works from home, none of his clients really know what he looks like anyway! But taking over the business was coming more common recently. I think I may have filled in for more photography sessions this month than Phillip has done himself.

After almost a year of constant switching, the novelty is gone. Not only that, I'm expected to go to school, do my homework, and take over Phillip's work duties when he doesn't want to be the responsible adult all at the same time. I'm so tired all of the time, I just want time to myself as a proper teenager once again. Which brings us back to the present were I am, once again, the man of the house. 

I pulled myself to my feet and stretched my body out. It was time to have a talk with my quote unquote son. As I climbed up the stairs to reach the culprit, I heard a noise in my bedroom. I stopped outside and glanced at myself in the mirror, smiling at the sight of my naked body. While this whole charade was getting tiresome, there's no denying that I look good for a man in his late forties. Most men my age are losing their hair and lugging about a big belly, but not me. 

Turning away, I knocked on my bedroom door and heard a voice on the verge of breaking say "come in!" I pushed open the door to see a thin, half-dressed teen sat on my bed. He looked up as I entered, only to groan and clench his eyes shut. "Ugh! Don't walk about the house like that," he cried. "Put some clothes on!"

I chuckled at his reaction, my laugh gritty and deep. I replied in an equally gritty voice, "Maybe if you gave me some warning, I would have. I can't afford to rip any more of my clothes. We've talked about this, Phillip." 

"I warned you when you came home but you obviously weren't paying attention," he snipped with a side of snark. Phillip hates it when I use his proper name, especially when we're home alone. But I figure if he wants to be a teenager, then it's only right to treat him like one. Although at this point, it's pretty much on instinct when I'm in Dad Mode. He patted about my bed, grabbing and blindly chucking a pillow in my direction. "Now cover yourself!". 

"Okay, that's my bad. I should have properly listened to what you had to say." I chuckled and put the pillow over my crotch, then sat down beside him on my bed. "But you were supposed to give me the weekend off, remember? I need a break from adulthood that isn't in a classroom. You get that, right?" I reached over to pat Phillip on the back, but he jumped off of the bed with an eyeroll and continued to get ready. without an answer. I sighed and shook my head. "So, what's the occasion anyway?"

"Lee wants me to go over to his for a little study session."

I grunted in annoyance. Of course it was Lee... While it's easy, if cumbersome, for me to take over Phillip's workload since he works from home, it's harder to explain why a teen wasn't in school. So we decided to tell anyone nosy enough that he was home-schooled. And of course the only time that situation came up, it was a woman whose son was also home-schooled. She invited us to join a group for home-schooled kids to promote "social experiences" or some nonsense like that... They are a great group of kids, and Lee was especially charismatic. I can see why they had become such close friends. But it just means we have to deal with even more shenanigans, all because the two were inseparable. It's made things far more complicated than they need to be...

"This is exactly why I wanted a break. You've gotten too close to that kid, you have to stop spending all this time with him."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, dad," Phillip replied mockingly. "Like you don't have your own grown-up friends that you only hang out with as an adult."

"I'm serious! You pretending to get an education is messing with my own, actual education. You know I've had five 'sick' days this month already? I can't keep cutting classes like this!" I paused with a heavy sigh. I wanted to wait until Phillip was in a better mood to talk about this. I almost hesitated until I scratched at my dense stubble, stubble that I shouldn't have for years from now. I stared down at my buff, hair-covered body which was a far cry from the scrawny, hairless youth I should have been. I gulped, it was now or never. "I might have to retake the school year..."

"Wait, what?" Phillip spun to face me with shock on his face. "What do you mean, retake the school year? How long has this been happening?"

"Are you kidding? As long as you've had that stupid remote! You've gone power mad. You press the button at a drop of a hat and leave me to pick up your own work while ignoring my own workload. With the amount of lessons I've missed, I'm surprised they haven't just expelled me!" I clutched the pillow in my lap, knuckles white, as I tried to keep my emotions in check.

"I had no idea..." Phillip stared at the wall for a moment. Eventually, he sighed "I'm so sorry, bud. I've been so caught up in this second life of mine that I never really considered how it impacted you... If this constant swapping is really hurting you so much, I'm more than happy to cut back. Heck, I'll even lock it up until the school year's up!"

"Well you don't have to go that far, but I appreciate the dedication. Thanks Phillip." He gave me an icy glare. "Alright, alright, thanks dad!"

Phillip grinned and patted me on the shoulder. "I'd give you a hug but not until you put on some pants. Now get dressed, I have to leave soon. We can discuss this better when I get back."

"Will do, boss." I left my bedroom and stopped in front of the mirror once more. I looked at the salt and pepper haired man I'd become, that I'd had to face for months on end. The stress and exhaustion of the past few months were more than apparent in my weary expression. But there was something new, a kernel of hope that those days were coming to an end. I smiled to myself, maybe things will go back to normal after all.

 

PART TWO