I was helped down into my bed. I had finally been cleared to go home after my gay-bashing incident. I was on track to walk at graduation, and I knew catching up on academics wouldn’t be a problem. Now, you might be wondering about my story. It all started a couple months ago when I arrived at school late. I had a doctor’s appointment, and I had it cleared with my teachers beforehand. I decided to cut through the locker room, as it would get me to class quicker.

I wasn’t suspecting to see two of my classmates, Chet and Paul, comparing dick sizes. Both of them were straight as an arrow jock fuckbois, and here they were touching each other’s dicks. Unfortunately, I stared at them a bit too long, but in my defense, they were on the way to the other door.

“What are you looking at, fag?” asked Chet. I could only hold my head down and even close my eyes. But that wasn’t enough for the two jocks, who wanted an answer.

“He asked you a fucking question, you cock-sucking queen,” Paul taunted. I knew not to fight back, but apparently, the two wanted a fight. Now, I’m not really a weakling, per se, but having two muscular and fit men attack you, in a rage, means you can’t really put up a fair fight. But in my case, it was incredibly lopsided. These guys must have been real homophobes, because they didn’t stop until I fainted. Blood was flowing everywhere, and I looked like a rainbow, but not in the good way.

Thankfully, next period’s gym class found me and they were able to get me to a hospital in time. It was touch and go for a while, but now I’m here and still queer. But during my time in the hospital, I read up some alternative medicine and other remedies. My parents, and I, are one of those types of people, but even my parents knew the hospital would be best for me. I focused mainly on curses and hexes, as after seeing everything the doctors did for me, I was a firm believer in Western medicine.

The curses and hexes would be for my assailants, Chet and Paul. I couldn’t get revenge the legal route, as apparently the high school has a rule about statute of limitations on one-off bullying incidents. My parents are going to court about that, but I decided to take matters in my own hands (Merida voice not included). I found a curse that would work out well, and wasn’t too evil, from most people’s POV. And it was easily made, as remember, my parents still believed in the ability of this to cure and harm.

I was back up on my feet by prom, and was able to go. I didn’t have a date, and besides, there’s only one other gay person in my entire high school, and he’s a freshman. But having a lot of people who cared about me and wanted to see me allowed me an opportunity to get the curse solution in Chet and Paul’s flasks, which they snuck in. It wasn’t too long after that prom was over, and we went outside to the big field in front.

Yes, our high school has prom during the fucking day, so we don’t get drunk and do anything stupid. Of course, Chet and Paul were the exceptions to the rule, and I made my way over to them.

“Who’s the man?” I asked, knowing what the response would be.

“He is!” the two jocks replied, pointing at each other, slurring those two simple words.

And then it happened. Nothing changed on the outside, but the two jocks looked each other over.

“What the fuck am I doing in your body, Chet?!”

“Same here, bro! What the fuck!?” The finger point was all that was needed for the curse to work, and by now, I had slipped away, blending in with the sea of black tuxes in the crowd. I watched as the two were befuddled by their predicament, and watched as they left, sans their dates, to try and solve it.

The rest of the year was hilarious, as both of them responded when someone said either of their names. They surprisingly took to each other’s bodies quickly, and I was a bit shocked to hear that both dudes had fucked each other’s girl, even though she thought she was fucking the same guy. But they never suspected it was me, and eventually, they just stopped trying to change back. I noticed as Chet’s social media slowly became Paul’s, with his distinct likes and comments, and vice versa. It was only a few years before I died, many years later, that I got a message from Chet, explaining that he finally figured out what happened.

Requested by @superbpeachvoidfish​
from Tumblr

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