"Do you think we can paint this room?"

Patryck glanced over to his boyfriend's cot with an interested hum. His arms were behind his head, fingers lazily running through his own hair, occasionally hitting his ears. Paul shrugged, touching the wall with a couple fingers.

"The walls are grey, the floor is grey, the ceiling..." Paul paused, gesturing for Patryck to finish. The polish man rolled his eyes before closing them with a smile.

"Is grey."

"Right. Do you think Tord would be upset if we redecorated?"

Patryck untangled his arms, sat up and let his feet hit the floor before he fixed his hair. He let a breathy chuckle escape. "Paul, it's 3 AM. We get up in an hour, we should really try and sleep."

"I'm not tired, my stomach hurts, and I'm thinking on pink for the walls," Paul mumbled, clearly trying to ignore the subtle shape of Patryck in nothing but a tank top and work pants. The contours of his face and body under such low lighting. Once Patryck thought his hair was tame enough, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands hung loosely, but his eyes stared with intention.

"I can make you tired."

"I-" Paul stammered, scratching the back of his neck as he sat up a little more. Fuck the walls, Patryck had his bedroom eyes locked on Paul. "Ar-...Are you sure? I mean-"

"Babe," Patryck rolled his eyes a second time, smiling as a small chuckle escaped thin lips. "Come on, we don't have all night. I'll be quick, and we can sleep in your bunk."

Paul nodded, his palms rolling across the bed frame in anticipation as Patryck pushed away from his own bed. He pulled off his tank top in the short walk over, dropping it to the floor before driving his knee between Paul's legs, making him groan at the pressure.

"Move back a little, I need room, babe." Paul reluctantly pushed away from Pat's knee, and the Polish man leaned in to fill the space. He crawled onto the cot, sitting between Paul's legs and wrapping his own around him.

Their mouths met without hesitation, hands exploring well-loved bodies as they embraced for what felt like the first time, all over again. Patryck's hands crawled under Paul's t shirt, making Paul break away with a quick huff the moment his hands brushed the other man's stomach.

"Not there," he breathed, his lips rosy from their embrace. "My stomach is killing me."

"Shit, I forgot. We can stop, if you-"

Paul shut Patryck up with a quick kiss. "I feel good with you here. Just don't touch there and we...we should be able to finish this up."

"Aye aye, captain." Patryck laughed at himself, his lips ghosting Paul's as he giggled too.

"God, we're idiots." Paul gave Patryck a quick kiss, keeping his lips close.

"Shut up and kiss me," Patryck hummed, bringing their lips back together.

They quickly picked up where they left off as if they never stopped, Patryck opting to keep his hands higher up.

He felt bad, forgetting about Paul's discomfort, but if he was fine to continue, Patryck was happy to oblige. He nipped at Paul's lip, earning a slow grind of his hips against his ass.

"You liked that?" Patryck let his forehead rest against Paul's with his eyes shut, practically nodding with him. "I didn't prepare for that tonight, is it okay if I just use my mouth?"

Another nod, this time almost clunking heads.

"I'll stay up here a little while longer." Patryck smiled, opening his eyes and pulling away. "Oh."

"What? Wh-...why are you looking at me like that?"

"Paul, your-" Patryck paused, raising an eyebrow as he held Paul's cheek in his hand. His eyes scanned wildly, the fingers on his opposite hand touching frantically. "Your hair, your beard! It's-"

"It's what?" Paul grabbed at his own hair, but it was much too short for him to see. He felt a pain shoot through his body and he hissed, looking at Patryck with eyes full of worry.

"...Pink." Patryck finally said, his eyes wide. "Paul, your hair is completely pink."

"Well, that's...That's not normal."

"No shit!" Patryck, in a confused haze, got up from the bed and hurried to their bathroom. He turned on the light behind himself, throwing open the medicine cabinet. "Paul, it was brown just a few minutes ago, I swear!" He set a few bottles down on the sink, not caring as they fell into the basin. Paul let out a groan from the other room, making Patryck's anxiety spike. "Fuck, how are you feeling?"

"I-...fine until you got up, now my whole body's hurting."

"Hurting how?"

Patryck grabbed at his pain medication with shaking fingers. A tiny speck within him hoped that a pill would fix Paul, despite how strange his symptoms were. Stomach ache, pink hair? Hell, even his eyebrows were pink!

"My head-" he paused with a hiss. "My head's coming apart."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"Patryck, just help me!"

"I don't-...Fuck Paul, I don't know what to do!"

The only response was a low growl that made Patryck search faster.

"Paul, help me out here. H-Have you helped in the lab recently?"

"Tord." He gasped, "Tord said he needed my help, he gave me a shot." His confession was punctuated with what Patryck could only call a howl.

"Fuck, of course!" Patryck slammed his hands onto the edge of the sink. "Of course that-that...that dickhead had something to do with this!"

It took Patryck a few seconds of seething to realize that Paul had gone silent.

His breath caught in his throat and he threw open the door. Nothing, not even Tord himself, could've prepared Patryck for what he was looking at.

While he was in the bathroom, Paul moved to the floor and stripped off his clothes, revealing a noticeable scruff of pink fur on his legs, arms, and chest. His skin was flushed and his hands were on his head, covering his forehead as he stared at Patryck.

"Pat-" his breath hitched, his body twitching. Patryck realized now that Paul had taken everything off, and that he was fully hard against his stomach. Everything about him seemed bigger, but what he had now dwarfed his normal cock. It was flushed red, dripping and animalistic. "Pat, this isn't good." He took his hands from his head, revealing two small horns as he shakily sat up straighter.

"Oh my God-" Patryck covered his mouth, hurrying to kneel in front of Paul. He put his hands on his boyfriend's face, hoping to ground him. "Paul, I have to take you to the med bay, you need help!"

There was a tense pause before Paul's eyes began to move, scanning over Patryck's body. "You're right..." Paul spoke softly, as if a switch flipped inside his brain. One of his clawed hands moved to touch the back of Patryck's. "I do need help."

"Paul, this isn't funny!" Patryck looked to the door. "Tord needs to reverse this, whatever it is, before I slap his face off of his skull!"

"Pat, he can't help me right now, look at me," Paul's breathing was heavy, from arousal or pain, Patryck couldn't tell. Paul's hand gave a reassuring squeeze, plucking Pat's from his face and dropping it lower, resting it on his own thigh, dangerously close to his cock. A growl left his lips, feral and needy. "You can help me."

"Wh-Wait, hold on." Patryck sputtered, staring down at Paul with flushed cheeks. "Paul, I don't know if I can do this. I mean, I just-"

Patryck's rambling died in his throat as Paul let out a very clear whine of pain, his face tensing.

"What hurts?" He asked frantically, taking his hand away to hold Paul by the shoulders. "Babe, what's hurting you, what do you need?"

After a moment Paul could breathe again, but it was weak; low and animalistic. His eyes met Patryck's, hungry and full of intention. "I need you on the floor, now."

Patryck felt a spark of arousal run through his body, but also a pang of fear. Something was still hurting Paul, even in this heated state. What the hell did Tord put in him? Did he think Patryck wouldn't notice? Hell, why hadn't he noticed before it was too late?!

"Patryck, please." Paul whined, his hips weakly bucking at the air. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"Paul, you know I didn't prepare for anything like this, you're gonna hurt me!"

Another groan of pain erupted from Paul's throat, his body tensing. Patryck dropped his hands from Paul's shoulders, watching him whine through whatever was hurting him.

Patryck weighed his options with worry filled eyes. He could either lock himself in the bathroom and wait until Tord came looking for him, leaving Paul in agony for who knows how many hours, or he could suck it up and help him. But what if the pain didn't stop? How long would Patryck be trapped underneath him? What if he fully transformed?

"Pat, I need to-"

"Stop asking, I'll do it." Patryck pressed, standing up to pull off his pants. He knew he couldn't ignore this, he cared way too much about Paul to chicken out. "I love you. No matter what, we're in this together. We'll deal with Tord later."

Paul let a relieved smile paint his features, thanks flowing from his lips as he watched Patryck step out of his underwear.

"Come here," Paul begged, "Please hurry,"

Pat kneeled down, staring at Paul's body with a bit more worry. Not only was Paul's cock thicker, but it was definitely longer. The precum that leaked out already covered a healthy portion of it, almost looking like a thick lubricant.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

Patryck sighed shakily, turning his back to his monster of a boyfriend before lifting his ass off the ground a little bit, not fully on all fours. No going back now.

He watched over his shoulder as Paul came closer, moving to kneel behind Patryck's lowered form. He shivered as Paul's hot hands reached around to his thighs, rubbing in and out as he huffed softly. Patryck couldn't help but groan at the feeling, almost forgetting Paul's monstrous features because of his sweetness.

A gasp pulled from his throat as Paul's hands dug into the space where his stomach and thighs met, lifting his hips until he was fully on his hands and knees. His claws dug in, earning a weak whine from Patryck.

Paul laid his body over the Polish man's, the comforting warmth of his chest resting on his back as Paul leaned closer. "Thank you," he panted, digging harder into Patryck's hips as the heat of his cock finally pressed against Pat's opening. It strained for a moment until Paul let out an annoyed grunt, forcing Patryck's hips back as the head popped in.

"Fuck-!" Patryck barked, the pain barely overpowered by the pleasure. Paul whined in his ear before carefully kissing his boyfriend's head. Patryck lowered his top half, hoping that would stop his arms from shaking. Paul sat up straight, hilting himself in one square motion.

Patryck was hard now, achingly so, and trying to ignore is own neglected cock as the fullness hit him. He knew how big Paul was, but he could truly feel it now - the heat felt like it reached his ribs, and it had him groaning as he waited for Paul to move. He weakly ground his hips against Paul, whining.

Paul saw this as a sign to start moving and his hips pulled back slowly before snapping right back in.

"Paul-" Patryck hiccuped, the air getting punched from his lungs as Paul picked his pace. His thrusts were hot and desperate, rearranging Patryck's guts in an attempt to make room for his cock. Patryck could feel the coils of his own arousal tightening, though Paul never slowed. "Paul!" He whined as he came hard, spattering the floor below him as he gasped, practically eating the air.

The harsh twitching of his orgasm hardly phased Paul, who was still jackhammering into his ass with reckless abandon, forcing Patryck to ride out his orgasm for far longer than normal. By now, Paul was panting like a dog in heat, a sound that only made Patryck's body grow hotter.

His boyfriend never unleashed like this before. They fucked each other roughly before, but this was completely different. It was primal, no words leaving his mouth - only growls and snarls as if he was a wild animal.

"Paul, flip me over," he breathed, punctuated with a moan. "Ahn-...I want to see you."

Paul whined as he pulled out, letting Patryck lay down before going right back to destroying him.

The Polish man wrapped his arms around Paul's shoulders, pulling him down and softly kissing at the newfound scruff on his neck. Patryck's body rocked against the floor with every desperate thrust, making constant contact with Paul's neck impossible.

"Kiss me-" he gasped as the need came, grabbing Paul's face by the cheeks and guiding him lower. Once their lips were moving, Pat's hands found homes on Paul's shoulder and the back of his head, holding him securely. Paul groaned into the kiss, rolling his hips and lifting Patryck in the process. Pat stopped the kiss and gasped at the feeling, the grinding against his body, and arched his back.

His breath hitched as Paul grabbed his hips, lifting him higher before kneeling on his own legs. He set Pat down on his thighs, making an awkward slope of the polish man.

"Why did you stop?" He brattily whined, still gasping for air as he pushed his hair off of his face. Paul's eyes were focused where their bodies connected, and Patryck could feel a pressure building just outside himself.

Now, he had no clue what Tord did to his boyfriend, but he could, at the very least, guess. Judging by Paul's wolfish features, he assumed it was a knot; one that Paul was so graciously wanting consent to put in.

Maybe if he came, this would all stop?

"You're not gonna feel better until you cum," Pat said confidently, hoping he was right. "Put it in, baby. I can take it."

Paul didn't hesitate after that, forcing the knot into Pat with a satisfied moan. The fullness it brought was enough to make him squirm, but he knew it wouldn't be for much longer.

Patryck wrapped his legs around the small of Paul's back, grinding himself into his boyfriend in an attempt to get him off faster. Paul joined the motion, whining as their bodies ground against one another.

Paul leaned down, nuzzling into the crook of Pat's neck. He carefully kissed at the heated skin, his hips never slowing as the pair tried to relieve the ache. Patryck's body shivered with pleasure as Paul's hot breath hit his skin, moments before his mouth closed around the slope of skin.

His teeth sunk in, pulling a cry from Patryck's throat as he began to lap at the wound.

By now, Patryck was shivering from the overstimulation, a feeling that only got more intense as a pressure built behind his ass.

"Paul, what's-" the question seemed to answer itself as something forced past his entrance, a bulge pushing at his skin before it left Paul, dropping into his gut like a brick. The temperature of it alone sent Patryck reeling, warming up his body from the inside out. The pressure came again, and Patryck's eyes blew wide. "Babe, do you feel that?"

Another weight fell into his stomach, and a pang of fear hit Patryck's chest as it clinked against the first.

That's not possible, but...eggs? Was this why Paul was in pain?

Paul whined, grinding himself against Patryck as the feeling came back. This one felt far larger, and it strained to enter for a short while. Patryck's hands rested on his stomach, feeling for the first two eggs as he tried to catch his breath. He had no clue how many were left, but if he kept count, maybe he could focus on that instead of the pressure.

The third finally forced its way into his body, pressing his prostate before visibly pushing out his gut.

"Fuck," Patryck breathed with a short laugh. "Paul, look at this." his laugh died as Paul ground his hips forward, fucking the three eggs deeper to make room as the feeling behind his ass grew again. This fourth egg felt similar to the last one, horribly hot and a pain to force in.

The pressure within Patryck was strange for him to process. It felt like someone was pushing down on his stomach, just below his ribs. Thanks to the angle Paul was fucking him on, the eggs pressed high enough to make breathing difficult.

The fourth finally joined the lot, tearing a pitiful mewl from Patryck's throat, the pressure in his stomach getting far too intense.

"Paul, please tell me you're almost done," There was no verbal response, only an animalistic growl as the next egg began to push in. "Paul, I can't take much more!"

He was too full. He was stuck at an odd angle, forcing him to feel every fist sized egg as it rolled within his poor, overcrowded gut. It was far past capacity, nearing the point of aching. Hell, he wasn't built for this!

The fifth egg took it's sweet fucking time on Patryck's prostate, grinding painfully slow past it before hitting the fourth, his gut bursting forward a few inches in an attempt to accommodate.

A new fear hit his mind - how many eggs were left?

This was an experiment, and a fairly new one at that if Patryck didn't know about it. There was no way that Tord had everything figured out, and that only made Pat want to punch him more.

A sixth began to press, and Pat knew he needed a distraction. He grabbed Paul's head, pulling him away from his neck and into a kiss. This one was hurried, all teeth and tongue as they tried to find a rhythm.

The sixth met the rest, and Paul happily fucked them deeper before he stopped for a break. By now, Pat looked about five months pregnant, panting desperately as he tried to compose himself. He felt dangerously close to cumming, but he refused to tarnish his pride by coming undone over something as strange as this.

Paul rocked his hips, breaking the kiss as he focused. Pat should've taken this as a warning, but Paul was painting his insides before he even realized. His cum was hot, rushing through his stomach and filling him up, only worsening the weight. The pressure alone made Pat cum, his hips bucking carelessly and he ground himself against Paul's body. A lewd moan pulled from his lips; drool left from the corner of his mouth, soaking his sweat-drenched face further. His stomach pushed out a few more inches before crawling to a halt.

Pat had never felt this good before. Hell, he never let himself come even close. Everything felt new and terrifying, but it excited him beyond belief. He rode out his high, dragging Paul in for another needy kiss as he groaned and panted through the fullness, his body begging for a moment to adjust. Paul's kissing got gentler, and something in Pat told him that he was coming back. The strange, animalistic haze over him was lifting, and he kissed sweetly, as if he hadn't just bred the everliving shit out of his boyfriend.

Patryck licked over his lips, holding his boyfriend's face close to his. "Paul, can you pull out?"

He felt the man's hips pull back, but they stopped with a tense hiss before giving up.

"I'm stuck." Were his first clear words since they started, and he groaned before trying again. "Pat, I can't pull out."

"Fuck, of course." Patryck huffed, letting go of Paul before tensely wiping off his face. "Of course Tord found more ways to make this weird!"

"Hey, hey..." Paul sighed tensely, comforting Pat the best he could, brushing his bangs away from his sweat-beaded forehead with gentle clawed hands. He was starting to shift back, but it was definitely a slow process. "It's gonna be okay. We're in this together, remember?"

Patryck hesitantly nodded, his breath shivering out through his mouth. It felt like his lungs were being crushed, his body still on the crooked slope Paul instinctively put him in. "Babe, lay me flat." He tried to order, knowing it would be a difficult task with the knot in the way.

Thankfully, Paul managed the job fairly quickly, but the movement only made the ache stranger. He tried to ignore it, telling himself that he would have them out by the end of the night. He knew his body couldn't function with them inside it, and he didn't know if that was reassuring or terrifying.

Patryck's nervous train of thought was cut short as Paul quickly pulled out, finally human again.

He scanned over his hands, breathing timidly as he began to touch his forehead. He let a shaky laugh escape before his eyes met Pat - poor, disheveled, staring up at his boyfriend in shock.

Paul crawled around to the Polish man's side, hugging him as if his life depended on it.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled simply, running his hands up and down Pat's shoulders. There was nothing else he could say.

Patryck lifted his boyfriend's head with both hands, wiping his tears with his thumbs. He brought Paul's forehead to his lips, kissing softly. "I love you, no matter what. I mean that." Paul whimpered, using his placement to pepper apologetic kisses onto Patryck's collarbone. "Please help me up, we need to get dressed."

"Of course, please tell me if I'm hurting you."

Sitting up wasn't the hard part, though he felt bad for leaning so heavily on Paul. He didn't feel any leakage between his legs, angrily groaning at how everything was staying inside.

Gravity wasn't his friend either, the eggs rolling with every awkward motion as he stood up.

Patryck was relatively skinny, the weight at his center being more than enough to fuck up his balance. He staggered, thanking Paul as he caught him. He looked about seven months pregnant now, and he desperately clung to the bottom of his stomach as he tried to process everything.

He was hugely, massively pregnant - a state he never knew he could be in, with a clutch of half a dozen eggs that he didn't even know the contents of.

"I'm gonna kill Tord," Patryck panted, his breath hitching as Paul walked him to his own cot, sitting him down slowly. "I mean, what the fuck?" His stomach hit his lap, an embarassing mewl falling from his mouth from the pressure shift. His eyes shot to the floor and his face turned a deep, embarrassed red. He focused on getting dressed, praying Paul would let him live down the noise.

He loathed how good this made him feel. He was in pain just a few minutes before, but the way the eggs kneaded at his guts had him worked up all over again. There was a constant pressure, from his ribs to his hips, and he swore he could feel his heartbeat throughout the flushed, overworked skin.

Paul ended up having to dress him, he couldn't balance on his own and he was scared to death of falling. They picked the largest t shirt Paul owned, along with an elastic pair of sweatpants. Nothing else would accommodate his pushed out gut.

"Did you want to talk to Tord?" Paul asked softly, holding Patryck with both hands, one by the small of his back, and one at the crest of his gut.

"Nh-...No...I can to that tomorrow." Patryck flagged him off, leaning sleepily onto his boyfriend's chest. "...Did I at least tire you out?"

Paul smiled absently and nodded, his thumb petting a small space of Pat's stomach.

"Good...." He huffed, nuzzling a little closer with a soft sigh. "Then I did my job."

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4051 words

I'm working through oneshot requests very, VERY slowly, so here's one from 2018 XDD hope it was good enough, it was really fun to write!