Booze and subways don't mix

By Dutchutch published January 20, 2019

Jerry shouldn’t have been drinking so much, because he finds himself becoming more and more confused as the evening progresses

As one of my favorite writers recently commented on an old story of mine, I was really motivated to finish this old draft and post it here. I’m a horribly inconsistent writer, so I can’t promise that more stories will follow soon, but if I write new ones, they will be published on this site.

“Oh Jerry, that ending was so bittersweet and that wedding… Oh” I chuckled as Emma went on and on about the movie. I just nodded, not paying that much attention as I was a bit drunk, due to my ‘soda’ (a.k.a. my smuggled-in booze). My mates had warned me not to take her to “The Easter Princess”, especially Mike who had predicted that it would make Emma blabber non-stop about marriage and kids. I didn’t mind though, I actually kinda liked romantic movies. The more I thought about it whilst we made our way home through the cold, the more I liked it. However, that might also have been the alcohol talking. Although…we did know each other already a long time, growing up in the same street. And we were together for 8 years now, ever since we became a couple in our senior year in high school. As a forklift operator, I didn’t make a lot of money, but enough. So yeah, I was kinda thinking to move things forward as well. Not the kid-part. Didn’t want the noise and didn’t want Emma’s marvelous body to sag. But marriage, yeah kinda considering that. “Getting inspired?” I subtly asked her. She started laughing loudly. “Sure in a few years, after you hit the gym a bit more and bring in some descent money” Not the answer I was hoping for, but still! It wasn’t a no! She might have realized the harshness of her words as she started to whisper promises of a very wild night in my ear.

I couldn’t help but grin. “How about we take the subway… matter of getting this night started” I whooped aloud, fastening my pace as I spotted a subway-station nearby. We sprinted down the stairs, only to just see one leave the station. Damn it, I really wasn’t in the mood for waiting … Especially knowing what was ahead! There weren’t a lot of people at the station, so at least we could snuggle a bit, some PDA in the shadows. I loved the taste of her soft sensuous lips on mine. However, Emma soon protested, saying we were drawing to much attention to ourselves. Didn’t seem like it though. As I looked around, the few other people in the station were all too busy staring at the bright screens of their phones. Then I noticed the guy leaning against the wall, not far from us. He had something familiar. I was sure I had seen him before! Wait a minute…! Wasn’t that… Hell yeah, it was Lancey-pansie! Although, from the looks of it.. pansie didn’t quite fit anymore. Even from afar I could see he had changed quite a lot!

Last I had seen him, he was still that scrawny kid from down the street. He was the older brother of Mike, my best bud. The three of us used to be the same as kids, scrawny, bit nerdy, and we had bonded quickly over our mutual love for video games, board games and Doctor Who. As we became older, Mike and I discovered girls preferred a different type of guy and we adapted ourselves – he didn’t. Still reveling in his ‘childish’ hobbies instead of partying, and with his body seemingly having missed puberty… His reputation as Lancey-pansie was quickly established. We bullied him mercilessly, even in high school, despite him being a senior and we mere freshmen. Although we weren’t friends anymore by then, I still felt guilty about bullying him along with Mike, Emma and the others, because he had been a really good friend. I always defended myself with stuff like saying how I did it to fit in, or to get girls, but it didn’t make the guilt go away. Sometimes I had even envied him, how he had been free to do what he wanted. I had often though how much nicer it would be to just stay home and watch Doctor Who or something alike, instead of going out to party, drink or vandalize stuff every damn evening in vain attempts to impress girls and the other guys. But I didn’t want to become a target myself, so joined the others in bullying him.

I doubt anyone would bully him now. He had unbuttoned his stylish coat, exposing the tight expensive-looking sweater and shirt he was wearing underneath, clearly outlining his muscles, giving him a distinct v-shape. I felt a ping of jealousy, thinking of my own slight belly, the result of hardly working out and way too many beers. His face had cleared up as well, and I couldn’t help but think he looked downright handsome and manly now, especially combined with the small, well-trimmed beard he sported, his thick lush hair and his obvious muscles. God damn it, somehow that twerp had ended up better than me! No wonder I had trouble recognizing him… Staring at him, I still wasn’t quite sure that it was him. I quickly looked away, not wanting to draw his attention.

It was too late… From the corner of my eye, I saw him gazing in our direction and saw his eyes getting bigger as he recognized me and Emma. Damn it! I was right, it was him. Oh god, I hoped he wouldn’t come over to talk. I didn’t want him to make me feel guilty for bullying him… or worse: he could rub in the fact that he was the successful one now. I saw his lips move very quickly, although I couldn’t make out what he way saying. Crap, he got up and came to us. “Oh my God, Lancey!! Is that you?!” Emma shrieked. Damn it, there went my chance at pretending to be someone else. “Hi Emma, hi Jerry, you have no idea how glad I am to see you two” he greeted us. “Hi, Lanceyiiii…” I quickly swallowed my words. Calling this thirty-year old prime specimen ‘Lancey’ seemed inappropriate. “I mean Lance.” I said, lowering my voice a bit, as I tried to regain a more confident pose, which wasn’t easy considering the booze circulating in my body. “Oh my gosh! You look so handsome!” Emma continued in her shrieking voice, “Mike told us that you had changed since you came back from Europe, but I thought he meant you started wearing a beret or something.” “Yeah, like I could pull off a beret” He snickered. The liar, he obviously could pull it off and look even better than he already did. Damn, my jealousy was really starting to show. “You look good too, Emma!” Then he glanced at me and a sly grin appeared.

“Surprised to see you here Jer.” What? “How do you mean” I asked a bit taken aback. “Well, after that work-out in the gym, I’m surprised you’re still able to walk. You really went all in on leg-day today.” “What the hell are you talking about?” I exclaimed. I only went one time every week (make that every two weeks), but I hadn’t gone yet this week (this month to be honest) and I had never seen him at my gym. “Yeah,” I uttered, slowly, “My muscles do feel a bit numb, thank god it’s Friday!” My muscles did feel numb, especially my legs strangely enough, but that wasn’t what I had planned to say. I wanted to say something about not going to the gym today, or about not seeing him there… “Jerry,” Emma interrupted my stream of thoughts, “are you starting to go the gym again? That’s wonderful!” “Starting?” Lance gasped, acting really surprised, “He is there almost every lunch break, except Wednesdays!” Yeah right, I spent my middays in the pub with my coworkers. Speaking of booze… The alcohol in my system wasn’t doing me any favors, as I started to get a bit dizzy and feeling rather hot. What was I going to say again? Something about going to the gym… Oh yeah: “Didn’t see you there though”, I practically slurred.

He laughed out loud. “Are you screwing with me, Jer? Of course, I was there, we’re workout-buddies, remember? What the hell have you been drinking tonight?!” Utter crap, I hadn’t seen the guy in 12 years, as he had left for a year to some fancy European university after high school, and Harvard immediately afterwards. And now he was claiming that we were workout-buddies? If I went to the gym (yeah big if), I always went with Ron, one of my coworkers. I could clearly picture Ron standing above me, watching me lift, his muscles bulging from his gym attire, his thick head of black curls, his well-trimmed beard, his green eyes. Holy crap, I realized I had been imagining Lance instead of Ron. This headache was making it really hard to think. I somehow could hardly recall how Ron looked. I was just feeling so confused. A vague image formed in my head of a burly man who always reeked of booze, loudly shouting slurs as he lifted weights in a dark gym. But I couldn’t see myself going to the gym with a guy like that. I somehow had this image stuck of me lifting weights or even doing cardio (as if I did cardio?) in some pristine fitness center, with a guy looking like Lance beside me. It did show however, I thought as I looked down, marveling at the outline of my leg muscles in my jeans. Yeah lots of hours of lifting and cardio… Totally worth the numb feeling.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me you went to the gym with Lancey? Does Mike know?” “My jerk of a brother? Why would Jer even bother with a guy like that?” Lance snorted. I somehow grinned, despite the continuing headache. Yeah, like I would tell stuff like that to Mike… even if it would be true. We were still on friendly terms, but I found him to be a real jerk, so I avoided him as much as I could. “Besides, like my brother would be interested in anything to do with sports. The guy spends his days in nasty bars, only interested in beer and bimbo’s. His body is completely sagged out, not like mister abs here. As his hand moved towards my stomach, I suddenly felt really warm, like after a long day working in the sun, my skin practically burning. Part of me was also petrified with the thought of this … this stud touching my belly, ashamed of how out of shape I was. Aghast I saw his hand gliding on my sweater. The bump in my hoodie, outlining my belly, seemed to be filled with air, as his hand pressed deeper and deeper into the fabric. It felt like a warm and dense liquid was sliding of my body, giving way to his hand. The sensations bombarding me were both enrapturing and dizzying, a small moan escaping my lips, as the heat in my head intensified. Even though my hoodie was quite thick, I quite feel the warmth radiating from his hand as he briefly rubbed the eight-pack I was so proud of.

“Believe me honey, if he had abs, I would now” Emma commented, with some detectable spite in her words. What was she going on about? I had abs! Though I had trouble concentrating on what she said, dizzy as I was. Lance’s warm hand wasn’t helping either. “Oh, come on Emma! Aren’t you being a bit mean?”, he guffawed. “He put so much work in his body. Men like Mike would be so jealous of a lean yet muscular body like Jer’s. That eight-pack, those perky pecs, …” As his hand rose higher on my chest, so did the heat, followed by that weird ‘liquid’ feeling. It was driving me nuts, I could hardly concentrate, overcome by these strange feeling, terrifying yet thrilling, painful yet somehow pleasant. I felt him squeeze my pecs, before his hand traveled towards my arms, whilst he commented on their shape. I hardly heard what he said, overcome by those weird feelings invading my every thought. I could see his lips move whilst he talked, hearing words like perfect bubble but, awesome lats, big strong shoulders, … The heat spread across my body, slowly engulfing me, immediately to be followed by those awful, agonizing, yet ecstatic sensations. Thinking was becoming really difficult, a weird fog clouding my brain more and more. As I drunkenly gazed at him, I somehow wanted nothing more than to rub my hands through those cute black curls on his head, or through that short beard, wondering whether it would feel rough or soft. “Will you stop touching my man. Mike was right, you are a fag!”, Emma remarked rather bitch-like.

Her words shook me a bit out of my trance. I blushed, quickly trying to repress my previous thoughts. My head felt like it was going to burst, but the strange heat in my body was slowly fading. Although, my clothes were somehow really uncomfortable, not fitting well. “Relax honey, I was just admiring the fabric. Cashmere, right?” Looking up to him, I could help but think he had a mischievous glint in his eyes, in those gorgeous eyes. A bit shaken by my own thoughts, I wanted to tell him off, point out that my hoodie was made from some synthetic fabric, but I found myself confirming his point. “Yeah, it is indeed! How did you know?” He grimaced. “Jer, you’re kind of worrying me. How much did you drink tonight? We go to the same shops, often together and share the same tailor. How can you forget things like that? Did you bump your head?” That last part could easily have been true, considering my headache. And yeah, like a guy as smartly dressed as Lance would ever set a foot in my favorite clothing stores. Or even more ridiculous, like I would visit a tailor. Imagine that, having some strange man taking my inseam and such. I chuckled at the idea. By now my tailor knew my sizes almost by heart, so that wasn’t necessary anymore these days. Wait… What? I found my hand pulling on my hoodie, wanting to point out the obvious differences in style to Lance, but the fabric clutched in my hand felt uncanny soft. “How…” I slurred, conflicting thoughts and memories clashing together in my head. This was so confusing. I could clearly remember my hoodie, yet at the same time memories of Giovanni, my tailor, ‘our’ tailor, invaded my mind, accompanied by visions of more formal stores and luxurious boutiques.

“This… this isn’t… something isn’t right” I gasped, cursing two-hours-ago-me for clearly drinking way too much. “Yeah, your tie is a bit loose and lop-sided. Here, let me fix it for you.” Softly, yet confidently, Lance’s hands reached for my upper-chest and fixed my? tie. As he tightened it, I felt an awful familiar pressure surrounding my neck. It felt good, like things should be. As I relaxed a bit, I could feel the back of my coat caressing the back of my upper-legs. My clothes were feeling comfortable again. I sighed, relieved that things were right again. “Okay I’ve had it Jerry. I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but I want to go home. Now.” Damn it, why was she nagging like that. Like my head wasn’t hurting enough as it was. Lance looked a bit puzzled. “Why does she keep calling you Jerry?” Then he suddenly sighed. “You have to stop doing this. If they can’t properly pronounce your name, then that’s their problem not yours. You’re too kind Sverrir.” I shuddered, somehow spooked when he mentioned that name. I knew that name. It somehow resonated deep within me. I wanted to react, reject his words, because they were wrong, right? I wasn’t Jer… Sver… I was Sverrrr… no Jer, Sverry… no Jerry. But my tongue was acting up, feeling numb and hot, way too hot, and my throat thickened a bit!

“What the fuck? His name is Jerry, you stupid fag, a normal American name. You probably have him confused with some of your pretentious faggy European friends.” Emma shouted, venom drooping from her words. I wanted … I … I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted her to stop screaming like that. My head was feeling so heavy, her shrill voice only adding to my discomfort. And Lance was just being nice? Yet, some part of me wanted to scream at Lance as well, chasing him away. “Oh no honey,” Lance scoffed, clearly irritated “his name is Sverrir, which is a perfectly normal Norwegian name. And I don’t like you insulting my friends, especially in their presence.” Every word he spoke echoed louder and louder in my head, bouncing back and forth inside. My skin felt rather peculiar, as a strange icy cold washed over my body, rising from my feet to my head and simmering a bit on my head. I needed some place quiet, so I could come to my senses, away from all this confusion. Odd and foreign words filling my mind. Emma was yelling some more, something about high school senior year and us hooking up, combined with an awful lot of slurs aimed at Europeans and fags. “You dumb cow,” Lance spat at her, obvious pissed off now, “Sverrir never went to an American high school. I met him during my year abroad at the University of Bergen. You wouldn’t even know him if it wasn’t for him following me to America when I went back.”

The swelling of my tongue and throat died down. Feeling more confused then ever, I really needed some answers. “Is.. Is that true? I … Can you tell me, please” I asked, almost exasperate. I was relieved I wasn’t slurring anymore, yet my voice sounded different somehow, a bit off. Lower yeah, but something else as well. A slight inclination? Different tone? Like I was putting my emphasis a bit wrong, my pronunciation ever so little a bit off. Perhaps I was still slurring. Or I was being too hard on myself. English was my second language after all, and I spoke it better than some of the locals, despite the enduring slight accent. Feeling dizzily, I tried to steady myself against a pillar. My hand seemed weird, like the skin was paler. Still a bit tanned, yet paler. “Of course, it is true. Don’t you remember? You were finishing your master’s degree in Chemistry and had offered to guide the exchange students in the department. That’s how we first met. We had quickly bonded over our shared hobbies. Afterwards you came to America and we both attended Harvard, you for your PhD, whilst I finished my graduate.” Lance stared me right in the face, his gorgeous olive-green eyes captivating me, making me belief every word he uttered, completely ignoring the cussing and screaming Emma next to him.

Knowledge of chemistry was purging out memories of partying and forklift-operating. Looking at Lance, memories popped up of us playing board games, dressing up as the eleventh and twelfth doctor for Halloween (the year before we both let our beards grew out), us studying together, explaining chemistry to him, following him to America, moving to Boston, seeing Harvard for the first time, walking the campus, … I felt somehow more confident, smarter, my mind seemed faster, less dulled, despite the alcohol and all the confusion going on. “But, …” I sputtered, putting my racing mind to work to find inconsistencies in his story, “Aren’t you older than me?”. Without looking away, his hand reached up and caressed my cheek. “Silly you”, he spoke tenderly, “you are older than me. Next year will be your 35th after all. Although it doesn’t show, with your full mane of hair, without a speck of grey or white, your tight body and stunning face… people could easily mistake you for younger” As his last words trembled in my ears, I felt my skin tightening all over my body. A horrible dull pain penetrated every nerve in my face and my cheekbones, forehead, nose, chin, … all seemed to move in opposite directions. My face felt like it was being torn apart from the inside. I wanted to scream but couldn’t, gnashing my teeth instead, until those suddenly began to heat up, almost burning my tongue. The warm hand stroking my cheek was like a lifebuoy in an ocean of pain, although its movement changed a bit as the caressed cheek hollowed a bit out. The hand went down a bit, softly fondling the newly-formed impressive jawline.

As quick as it came, the pain disappeared, leaving me gasping for air. Holy hell, that had been intense. My tongue glided smoothly over my perfect pearly white teeth, and I opened and closed my mouth several times, horrified and yet marveled by the somewhat unfamiliar movement of my jaws. All of a sudden, I became aware of a long lock of dark-blonde hair hanging before my eyes. As I brushed it back behind my ears, enjoying the feel of my hair dangling in the nape of my neck, I actively tried to push back very confusing memories of a dark brown buzz-cut with a very pronounced widow’s peak. “Fuck off, you fag!” I heard Emma scream, almost hysterical, “I don’t know what you’re doing to him, but he’s mine, and I’ll prove it.” She grabbed me by my peacoat and pressed her lips against mine. Yes, she was right. This felt so good, so familiar. The cloud of confusion seemed to whither for a moment. When she let go, she looked quite victorious. Yet Lance shoved her aside, proclaimed ‘two can play this game’, and kissed me full on the lips. I was completely taken aback by his kiss. The bristles of his beard prickled against my skin, but I found myself rather enjoying it, which was really confusing! His lips were sensuous, tasty and warm, and he smelled so delicious, so manly. Without thinking much, I pushed him against the pillar, almost grinding him as I returned the kiss. Feeling ecstatic, I let my tongue slip in his mouth, immediately overcome by the tantalizing feel of his tongue brushing against mine. Soon, we were full on making out and I was utterly delighted. Compared with this, Emma’s kiss had been sloppy and lifeless. All Emma’s kisses paled in comparison with this! The beard bristling against my skin felt weird and constantly reminding me that I was actually kissing a man. Worse, that I was the one kissing him at the moment, but the kiss was soooo damn good. So warm and passionate, and so tasty! As I let go off him, he looked positively thunderstruck.

“Wow” he slowly exclaimed, taking a moment to regain his composure, whilst keeping a furious Emma back with one arm. She looked like she wanted to claw his eyes out, but I found myself not caring, still feeling his beard titillating my skin. I know I had just kissed a guy, but it hadn’t been as disgusting as I always imagined it would be, on the contrary! “You liked?” I chortled, fully knowing the answer. I surprised myself. I should’ve been outraged, or disgusted or something, but that kiss… “Oh, hell yeah! I would have done this years earlier if I had known! But then again, they always say that men with beards are awesome kissers.” The grin on his face was unmistakably mischievous this time. A painful piercing and prickling feeling washed over my face and I groaned loudly. Bit too loudly, as Lance was distracted by it for a moment, lost his grip on Emma and got slapped pretty hard in the face. As I saw a flicker of pain of his face, I could feel anger rising in me. Absolutely livid, I acted quickly, grabbing Emma’s arms to prevent her from hitting him again. Lance was somehow not angry. He actually smiled as he looked at Emma, but there was a coldness in his eyes. “Well, now I’ve tasted the goods, I can understand why you have such a hard time letting go. Yet enough is enough. Jerry used to be my best friend, and this time I’m not going to lose him again to your type. But don’t worry, even though you were always a bitch towards me, I’m not reducing you to single-hood.” He took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eyes. “How about you go home to Mike, your ‘man’. The two of you deserve each other.”

I let go of Emma and for a moment it seemed like she would start foaming. Then, just like that, her face went from frenetic to calm. She thanked me and Lance for taking their ‘future sister-in-law’ to the movies, turned around and went up the stairs. A strange feeling of loss penetrated my thoughts as I saw her walk away. I remembered Mike living somewhere in this neighborhood, but I had other worries now… What the hell… Lance had done something to her. Just a few words and she completely changed her attitude. My brain was going into overdrive. Had he done something similar to me? My head hurt even worse now, and I couldn’t think straight, still feeling so confused. Several alarming thoughts bounced around in my mind, screaming for attention, whilst conflicting memories kept popping up as well. The train was finally there and two warm hands on my shoulders guided me towards the entrance. “Come on honey, you look like you could use some rest.” I mostly dozed off in the train, my headache had gotten the better of me, until Lance woke me. I didn’t recognize the neighborhood, yet at the same time I did. This was one weird evening. I followed my instinct towards a large building, found myself opening the door with a key that had been in my chino, and entered the elevator with Lance, automatically pressing a button. A few moments later, we arrived in a large, luxurious apartment, stylish and yet a bit nerdy as well, with a few chosen posters and items from their favorite shows and games displayed in the living room. Both our diplomas and our doctoral degrees in chemistry hung on the walls, and several shelfs and closets were cluttered with thick, scientific books and journals. Despite being at a completely strange place, I felt at home.

As Lance went to the kitchen for some water, I went to the bathroom, blindly knowing where it was. As I undressed to my underwear, carefully laying my clothes away, I admired my image in the mirror. Staring at my piercing blue eyes, stroking my short blond beard, … Lance was right, I did look good, despite my age. Something was gnawing in the back of my brain, telling me that this wasn’t right, a vision of a younger, out-of-shape brown-eyed and brown-haired guy crept in my head, instead of this blond and bearded giant looking back at me in the mirror. A warm hand reaching for my dick interrupted my thoughts, as Lance whispered in my ears, his hot breath tantalizing me. “Boy, I keep being amazed how big Norwegian dicks are” And sure, as my dick grew hard, it grew bigger than ever before. I turned around, facing this dazzling guy. All confusion withered. Slowly brushing my hand through his amazing curls and his awesome beard. Within seconds I had taken off his sweater and ripped his shirt open. Rubbing my hand across his amazingly ripped and hairy body, taking utter delight in the small black curls adorning his chest. I felt hornier than I ever had before. Even though he was bigger than me, I practically threw him on the bed and tore his pants off. One look at his cock and I was lost. Part of me knew I had never done this with a guy, to a guy. Yet as I took his cock in my mouth, I knew exactly what to do to drive him wild. Using my tongue in ways I had never imagined I elicited moan after moan. Gazing at his gorgeous body, I moved one hand up to play with his tasty pecs and used the other to switch between slowly caressing his lower back and playing with the curls on his body, knowing how it would drive him crazy.

Before I could get him to cum, he pulled me closer and we shared a passionate, almost frenzied kiss. I couldn’t get enough of the guy. Grinding our warm and sweaty bodies together, I almost came just at the feel of his muscular and hairy body against mine, of his beard against my beard, his warm lips against my lips. His warm hands rubbing all over my body and often grabbing my cock brought my closer and closer to coming. Not wanting to let go of each other, we just kept going at it. I let go of him for a second, only to move down and lick the sweat of his pecs, darting my tongue in the deep dividing line between those two pillows of muscle. I marveled at the taste of his sweat, it tasted just like how he smelled…. Hot and manly. He moaned and groaned as I used my tongue to play with his nipples. Next, I moved back up to plant deep hot kisses in his neck, knowing his weak spots, whilst slowly rubbing his cock. He orgasmed loudly as cum erupted all over us. Suddenly he began nibbling my ear, whilst one hand explored my hole and the other grabbed my dick. He whispered about how good a bottom I was and I started to move up and down with my ass, spurring him to add fingers. I gasped for breath, a deep moan escaping my lips. The bastard knew my weak spots too well. I came with a load groan, splattering us both with loads and loads of cum. I don’t think I ever had an orgasm like that. Scoping up bit of both of our cum, I shared it with Lance after which we kissed passionately, tasting each other’s cum as our tongues and bodies wrestled. After what seemed like hours, we collapsed on each other, sweaty, drenched in cum and tired as hell…

A warm bright light woke me from my sleep. Morning light pierced the windows and I found myself in a strange room. My mind needed a moment to adapt. Slowly I started to remember last night, starting to remember everything… Holy shit! I sprung up from the bed, almost immediately losing my balance due to the unfamiliar body. Oh god! What the hell! How was that even possible, this couldn’t be real! I gasped as I looked at the mirror on the bedroom closet. I almost didn’t recognize myself. I slowly rubbed the beard, hardly believing what I was seeing. “Shit,” I heard someone shout behind me, with a clear hint of panic, “I forgot to seal the spell. God no, it will be almost worn off” In the mirror I saw Lance looking at me like people would look at a bomb about to go off. “Sverrir, …” he started, “you’re my husband, right?” He looked terrified, unsure what was going to happen. With the confusion gone, I could clearly remember my old life, myself. As soon as he spoke those words, I could almost see a sort of cloud forming, but I took a step back. As it faded into nothing, I knew I had escaped. “No, I’m Jerry and I’m going to find my girlfriend again,” I said, trying to withhold my anger, “but thanks for the body, Lancey-pansie.” I quickly grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants and went for the door, leaving a devastated Lance behind. I gandered at the apartment I was about to leave. This was the sort of life I wanted with Emma, except the geeky stuff of course. Now with this bod, she would surely want to marry me this time. The thought somehow left a sour taste in my mouth. Yeah, she wanted a hot guy with enough money, she had said so herself. Not quite the romantic picture I had hoped for. Lost in my thoughts and not quite used to walking in this strange body, I almost stumbled over a large plush tardis. I cussed and went straight for the hallway and the elevator. I quickly exited the building and made my way towards Mike’s. As I jogged, I thought back to my obsession with Dr. Who as a child. I remembered it fondly, joyfully watching every episode, until I discovered that girls like Emma didn’t like guys who watched those shows. So, me and Mike stopped watching it and started to make fun of those that didn’t, like Lance. Bullying, partying, drinking, … that was the way to impress girls. Thinking back at last night, I tried to recall how her soft lips felt, trying to shake off that titillating feel still lingering on my skin. I shuddered and quickened my pace towards Mike’s.

Finally, I had arrived. The whole way I had chastised myself for not taking something warmer with me as I had run out. But soon I would be all warmed up again… After all, nothing beats make-up sex. I almost kicked the door in and went straight for the bedroom, seeing my target looking rather confused as I barged in. Moments later our lips were locked, and I was in heaven. This was what I wanted. I forgot all about that other kiss. That kiss had been nothing. This was how a kiss should be, fueled by actual love, not by make believe. I almost didn’t want to break it off, but I had to. I grinned at seeing the look of utter shock on that beautiful face. “Now,” I slowly whispered, “before we continue, how about you finish that spell?” As he whispered sweet things in my ear, I grabbed the lube from the nightstand. A golden band had appeared on my ring finger, as had a matching one on his. He whispered a few weird words and I knew the spell was sealed. I could somehow still vaguely remember my old life, being Jerry. But I didn’t mind, I knew I had made my choice. I rather be Sverrir, husband to Lance, than Jerry, stuck in an empty life and empty relationship. Yeah fuck the old me, I thought as I completely embraced the new me, he was a jerk anyway. And speaking of fucking… I hugged my stud of a husband and began kissing him, still marveling at how amazing it felt even though it felt so familiar now, whilst slowly guiding his hands towards my hungry hole…

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