Man Flu

Rohan whimpered as his mom pulled the thermometer out of his mouth. She studied the end before tutting and shaking her head. "It's ninety-eight degrees. That's normal, you're perfectly fine."

"But moooom," he whined, his voice unusually deep and husky for a twelve-year-old. "I don't feel good! Even my throat hurts." He coughed meaningfully, as if to prove his point.

"But nothing! What you have is a case of the man-flu. Now get ready for school."

As his mom left him to get ready, Rohan only dug himself further under the bed covers. He felt awful, and it hurt that his mom didn't believe him. Sure, there had been times in the past that he may have faked a flu to get out of school. And he did have an exam to take, one he hadn't prepared for. But he really wasn't faking it this time. He may not have a temperature, or clogged sinuses, or even a runny nose, but that didn't mean he wasn't actually sick!

Ever since that field trip to the National Museum of Science & Innovation, Rohan had been feeling under the weather. Maybe he shouldn't have messed with the equipment in the medical sciences exhibit, but he was triple dog dared, and you can't back out from something like that. And it's not like they wouldn't sterilize them before putting them on display, right? Rohan groaned as his stomach twisted in pain. He'd felt so much worse since he woke up. His whole body ached, twinges of pain flaring up when he moved. His head felt heavy, sweat dotting his forehead. Yet it wasn't until his voice suddenly dropped an octave, he knew something was wrong. He sounded like a grown man, husky and resonant, nothing like his usual dainty tones. There was a dull throb that squeezed through his joints, causing him to groan and squirm deeper under the covers of his bed.

Underneath the covers, Rohan shivered from the pain that rolled through him. He was unaware of how his body was actually changing, stretching longer, and growing thicker. It wasn't until he felt a cold draft across his feet that he noticed something was up, as his legs now struck out over the edge of the bed. Yet all he did was yank his legs closer to his body to keep them warm. Next to pop out from under the covers was his back and butt, the sudden change in temperature shocking him more than the rounded muscle that had swollen out from his derrière. He pulled the cover over his back, allowing his longer arms and heaving chest to emerge from the darkness. Rohan groaned, half from pain, half from frustration, and rolled onto his back, the bed creaking as he shifted his weight, until he managed to find a position that kept him entirely buried underneath the fabric.

Alongside the uncomfortable aches that randomly throbbed throughout his ever-growing body, Rohan now felt an increasingly irritating itch that swept across his skin. It gnawed at his arms and legs, his torso and crotch, and everywhere in-between. Unbeknownst to him, it was the growth of tiny new hairs breaking free. It swept across his skin in a hirsute wave. He gritted his teeth, doing his best to ignore the irritating movement, knowing it could only end in tears. He sobbed into his pillow, wishing the whole experience would come to an end. And then it did.

Rohan slowly opened his eyes, relaxing his clenched jaw. He felt fine. More than fine, he felt better. The unimaginable pain, the unbearable itch, they had vanished. Now a fleeting memory, or a distant dream. Had he imagined it all? He allowed himself to relax his whole body, unrolling from his ball, when something felt wrong. His arms flung over the sides of the bed, his legs spooled out, his feet hitting the floor. There was significantly less bed than there was before. Confused, Rohan popped his head back up from the covers, and frowned. It wasn't just his bed, his room felt smaller than usual, or was it just his imagination. His eyesight wasn't the best, after all.

Reaching to his bedside table, Rohan scrambled for his glasses. Yet even they felt small in his grip, and even more snug against his face. His world turned smudgy, and he groaned aloud. Did he have his baby sister's glasses instead? But hers were pink, and these were his distinct moss green. Certainly an illness couldn't correct his vision, right? He gazed intently at his glasses, noticing how his hand swamped the frames. Each finger long and slender, his palm wide and square. He flipped them over, gasping as he noticed short, dark hairs littering the backs of them. The hairs multiplied and lengthened as they raced up past his wrists, and wrapping his forearms in a bristly coating. This was definitely not something an illness could do!

In a panic, Rohan ripped the covers off of his body, and his eyes widened in shock. It wasn't his bed, it was him. He was huge! It was as if he'd doubled in size. And much like his arms, a soft layer of black hairs spread across his body. It curled all across his torso, and fluffed up around his crotch, obscuring his evidently larger package. He instinctively slammed a hand into his mouth in surprise, only to recoil as the blow was softened by the thick, black beard that enveloped his cheeks. He froze for a moment, trying to process what had happened. He felt unwell, he felt an intense pain, and he had grown large, and hairy. He thought back to what his mom had said before leaving his room. Could he really have become a man?

Dumbstruck, Rohan slowly reached a hand toward his chest, flinching as his fingers brushed against the soft hairs that carpeted them. He pressed a palm against his left pec, giving it a light squeeze as he felt the solid muscle underneath. A smile broke his lips as he tugged downwards, his stomach clenching as his hand passed over the newfound brawn and curls, until he reached his crotch. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, hard and proud. A jolt flew through him, up his spine and down his legs. It felt good. He gasped, and covered his mouth. But the contact with his beard made his cock twitch again, sending that wave throughout his body once more. He moaned aloud, his voice guttural.

Unluckily, his moans attracted the attention of his mother, who stomped upstairs. Rohan came to his senses with just enough time to pull the covers back over his nude body. Seconds later, his mom burst through his bedroom door in a frantic manner. "Rohan! You're going to be late if you keep this up! Stop fooling-" She stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell upon the large, hirsute mass laying on her son's bed. The covers half covered the man, his hairy chest fully exposed. 

Rohan looked up at his mom with a weak smile. "I told you I wasn't well," he said, almost excited. His hoarse baritone echoed around the room. "But I feel much better now. I think you were right, I had the man-flu".

She screamed.