Waking Up as Lloyd

[commission: Julian Edelman and Danny Amendola get bodyswapped with a gay couple]

Julian would have just rolled over and gone back to sleep--he felt desperate for sleep--if it hadn’t been for the smell.

It reminded him of his college roommate, a lineman who constantly polluted their shared living space with his farts and the stink of his big, sweaty body. “If you’d just shower before bed, this place wouldn’t reek so much,” Julian used to urge the big lug. “We can’t bring chicks home when the place smells like a locker room.” But that had been years before.

A moment later, Julian realized it wasn’t just the room--it was him. With his eyes closed, he raised an arm and huffed his own armpit for a moment. “Jesus,” he blurted with a faceful of potent musk. As he moved, he noticed his skin felt wrong, as did the sheets. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Holy fuck!” he said aloud when he saw a big hairy gut in front of him. He held up his hands and saw two weathered mitts. Years of carrying a football and training in a gym had left him with serious callouses, but these hands were thick and gnarled.

His body was hairy.

He was fat and he stunk.

And he had no idea whose bed he was in.

Juilan kicked off the sheets and hopped out of the bed, staring around,bewildered. He had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. Last he remembered was… going to bed in his own bed. Sober. He whirled aorund and ran to a full-length mirror leaning against the wall.

The man reflected back at him was thickly built, heavyset and hairy. He stared, mystified, as the beefy bear matched his every movement. He pawed at his own face, examining its lines and scratching the slightly greying beard. “Who the--” The sound of his own voice shocked him back into silence. It was deeper than it should have been, and slightly hoarse.

“Hey babe, you finally awake?” said a voice. Julian spun around in a panic when he saw a small, waifish man in the doorway. Julian had never seen the little guy in his life--but he was clearly talking to him.

“Uh… yeah,” Julian said. His heart pounded in his way-too-bulky chest--he wanted to blurt out immediately, “I’m Julian Edelman and I have no idea why I look like this and who you are!” But he had the wherewithal to realize just how insane that would sound.

“I made pancakes,” the man said, leaning coquettishly against the doorframe. “Fresh can of whipped cream and mango slices, too. Just how you like it.”

“Thanks,” Julian said, surprised that he was actually going along with this situation. He would take his time gathering information, he decided, before he did anything drastic. At that moment, saying that he was actually a professional football player and not a husky middle-aged man wasn’t a viable plan.

“You okay?” said the blond. “You look ill.”

“I feel ill,” Julian said, putting a hand on his stomach. It shocked him to feel its girth; he’d never felt anything but smooth abs in his entire life. “I… might be coming down with something.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. “Come down and have pancakes, see how you feel after that, K? If you’re too sick we’ll just keep you home and I’ll play nurse all day.”

Julian nodded and feigned a smile. He took a few steps to the door and jumped as the blonde man took him by the arm and threaded his fingers through his.

“You’re really jumpy today!” the blonde man said.

“I know, I’m just… Ill, like I said,” Julian said. He feigned a cough. The blonde man leaned into his thick arm and kissed his shoulder.

So… I guess on top of everything, I’m gay, Julian thought, resolving that he would participate in this strange man’s life only to a point.

His eyes went wide at the stack of pancakes waiting for him. He silently counted--the stack was 7, 8, 9 pancakes high. The blonde man--his lover, whose name he didn’t even know!--drenched the stack in syrup and topped it off with a massive mound of whipped cream.

Julian hadn’t eaten like this in years, but his big gut grumbled. He had never felt this hungry in his life. The warm, buttery pancakes were so comforting, relieving him of the burden of the situation, at least for a little bit. He let out a deep sigh and smiled, much to his lover’s satisfaction.

The thin man gave him a few pats on his belly before leaving the room. “Did you hear back about those tickets?” he called from the other room.

While he was alone, Julian scanned the kitchen. He found a pile of mail--resident, resident, junk mail… His heart leapt as he found a utility bill: “Lloyd and Spencer Wittman,” read the names. But which one was he?

“Spencer,” he guessed.

“Yes, babe?” came the response from the other room. Successful, he pumped his fist.

Okay, so I’m Lloyd Wittman, he thought. Neither name rung a bell, but it was a relief to know some detail about himself.

Spencer appeared at the door and stared at him, looking back at the abandoned pancakes.

“What are you doing?”

“Just… checking the mail,” Julian said. “And, uh, no, I didn’t hear about the tickets,” he lied.

Spencer nodded. “I was going to head to work soon, but… should I stay home and take care of you instead?”

Julian shook his head. The feeling of his cheeks jiggling unnerved him. “Uh, honestly, you just… head out. I can take care of myself until this all passes. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be feeling better by the end of the day.”

Spencer nodded, a sly smile spreading across his face. “How about you finish your pancakes at least? I’ll call in and say I’ll be a little late. Sound good?”

Julian’s stomach growled as if in response. He put a hand to his firm, hairy gut and chuckled. “Guess that answers that, right?” he said. He was grateful to return to the pancakes--and the relief they provided.

When Spencer left for work, Julian leapt into action. Lloyd had to have a phone somewhere, he thought. He found it in the bedroom on the floor next to the nightstand. (Wandering around the unfamiliar house made him feel anxious, like he was trespassing and could get caught anytime.)

He was grateful the phone’s face scanner recognized him. He clicked on Facebook and started skimming through Lloyd’s posts. He shared a lot of dog rescue posts and complained about traffic. From the stats posted, he learned that Lloyd was 56 and worked as a Brewmaster at a craft brewery in Colorado. “I’m in fucking Colorado?” he said aloud. “At least it’s kind of a cool job.” The thought occurred to him that he may have to, at some point, go to work as Lloyd--he didn’t know the first thing about brewing beers!

Scrolling through some photos, he discovered that Lloyd was an amateur powerlifter, doing some local competitions. This explained his sturdiness and bulk (and his aching joints), but when he went back further, he found that the muscles were relatively new. Any photos more than three years old showed a much more portly Lloyd.

“Well, at least I’m lucky I’m him after he started pumping iron,” Julian mused. Still, he was in the dark about how any of this was happening. He was done wondering how it was possible--clearly, it was--but he needed to know what had caused it.

Lloyd’s recent text messages didn’t offer him any information. Apparently Lloyd liked to shoot guns and he had a shoulder surgery coming up. “Damn,” he said, massaging his aching rotator cuff. “That explains that. Fuck.” No way would Lloyd be getting the kind of medical care he, as Julian, got in the NFL!

One thought occurred to him: if he was Lloyd, who was Juilan? Had he just vanished from his own life and appeared in this new world, he wondered? Out of curiosity, he tapped in his own phone number. It rang once before going to voicemail.

“Leave a message or don’t. You know how this works.”

It was his voice--Julian Edelman’s voice. HIs heart pounded as he heard it--that was his voicemail! At the beep, he paused, unsure what to do next, when Spencer entered the room. Julian tapped the END button as he turned around.

“Babe, I can’t go to work knowing you’re not feeling well. Why don’t you come downstairs and cuddle with me on the couch?”

“I, uh… might be contagious,” Juilan lied, fake-coughing once again. Spencer giggled--and in that moment, Julian couldn’t deny how adorable the pretty little man was. Something about his dainty physique, his dimples, his cheekbones… Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Spencer--and that thought made him feel like he was falling down a long, deep hole.

“I’m fine with getting sick too,” Spencer said. “We’ll take care of each other.”

Juliian smiled--this time, a genuine smile--and headed to the bathroom as Spencer went to prepare the couch. He splashed water in his face, then put two hands on his gut, giving it a jiggle. He flexed his big arms--”Bigger than the ones I had before,” he recognized. His thighs were pretty hefty, too. “Damn, Lloyd. You could  have been a hell of a blocker if you’d gotten into football earlier.” Then he tugged at the waistband of his boxers and took a look in there. “Jesus!” he said, looking at a thick, respectable cock, just as hefty as the rest of his body. “Damn, Lloyd, nice dick!” he said. He gave his big balls a jostle and then headed to the living room.

He would take the day, he decided, to relax with Spencer. He really did feel ill, after all. And maybe, if he were lucky, this could be temporary. Maybe he’d wake up in his bed as Juilan tomorrow morning?

As Juilan entered the living room, he found Spencer looking at the TV with a hand over his mouth. It was ESPNews--surprising that Spencer would be watching, Julian thought, although maybe that was the judgmental straight guy in him making that assumption.

“Julian could not be reached for comment, but team representatives say he is retiring from football immediately, shocking both his teammates and his fans. More on this situation as it develops.”

“Holy shit,” Lloyd said as he saw his face onscreen above the headline that he had retired.

Spencer whirled around, apparently so engrossed in the news that he hadn’t noticed Julian entering the room. “Jesus, Lloyd! I, uh…” He quickly changed the channel. “I’m sorry, I was just clicking through.”

“Go back,” Julian said. “I want to see more.”

“Since when do you care about football?” Spencer said with a quizzical look on his face. “I didn’t even know you knew who Julian Edelman was.”

Julian let out a deep sigh. He stared down at the carpet, feeling the comfort of a day on the couch dissolving as the words came out of his mouth: “I’m not Lloyd,” he said. “I’m so sorry--I don’t know how--but I’m Juilan Edelman.” The words hung in the air for a moment before Spencer approached him.

“Are you… are you serious?” he said, his voice just a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Julian said, unable to look Spencer in the face. “I know it sounds insane. I think I have, uh, a fever… or something…”

“Julian?” Spencer asked. His voice sounded different somehow. “Juilan, is that you?”

Lloyd looked up at Spencer. The blonde man’s eyes were tearing up.

“Julian, it’s me, Danny,” he said, patting at his chest.

It took Julian a moment to put it together. “AMENDOLA?” he finally cried out. “Danny? That’s… that’s…” He looked at Spencer with different eyes, searching for some evidence of one of his best friends in that small, skinny body.

Spencer--or Danny, rather--suddenly threw his arms around Julian and buried his face in Julian’s burly chest. He sobbed and moaned--he was saying something, but Julian couldn’t make it out. “It’s okay, buddy,” Julian said, rubbing the thin man’s back. He guided Spencer--or Danny, rather… it was all very confusing--to the couch and sat him down and let him cry it out.

*

“I just went to bed last night--as Julian,” he started to explain, “and woke up upstairs today. No idea how it happened.”

Danny stared at him, shaking his head. “I’ve been here for two months,” he said, his eyes getting moist again. “I thought I was going crazy at first… Lloyd thought I was having a breakdown or something.” He looked at Julian, then away. “It’s so weird to think… that you’re… not Lloyd anymore…” he stammered. Then, when he collected himself, he continued: “I’m a nurse--or, Spencer is--and so they thought it was just a stress thing. They gave me a couple weeks off from work, gave me some meds, and I seriously thought I was going crazy. I mean, I saw Danny Amendola on TV. He was real, and he wasn’t me, so… I just thought, maybe…” He shrugged.

“Do you think… do you think Spencer and Lloyd are us now?” Julian said. “I mean, I don’t know how they could do this, but do you think…”

“I was suspecting Lloyd of cheating on me,” Danny said. He looked down at his thin hands, folded in his lap. “He was sneaking around, being really secretive, deleting text messages and stuff… Mind you, I thought I really was Spencer, and I was, y’know, schizophrenic or something. But maybe he was actually just planning on… stealing your life the way Spencer stole mine.”

“Or maybe Lloyd was the one who switched Spencer with you in the first place.” Julian looked down at his body as if it were someone else’s (which, truly, it was). He noticed Spencer’s phone on the coffee table. He snatched it up and dialed his own number again.

This time, someone answered. “Hello?” It was Julian’s voice.

“What’s up, Lloyd?” Julian said through gritted teeth. Danny held a hand over his mouth as Julian clicked it over to speakerphone.

“Ah, I figured this was coming,” said Julian’s voice. “How you feeling? You ready for your surgery next week?”

“How are YOU feeling is the question,” Lloyd said. “You act fast. We saw on the news that you’re quitting MY football career?”

The man on the other end just chuckled. “Listen up, LLOYD, let’s get something straight: I’m Julian Edelman now. And it’s MY football career--and it’s also over. There’s nothing you can do about it, understood? So why don’t you go brew some beer, and fuck your husband, and try not to have a heart attack, got it?”

Julian opened his mouth to clap back but Danny shouted, “Hey, FUCK YOU, man!” It was the first time Julian recognized his good buddy in Spencer’s body--his shoulders squared, head up, possessed with confidence and a swagger Spencer had never had.

“Oh, Spencer, how are you doing in there? You still remember who you used to be? After all this time?”

“Look, fucker, if you think you’re going to get away with this…” Danny began.

“Listen, Lloyd, we know our lives. We know all of our details and YOU DON’T. I don’t know how you did this but you can’t fake being us for very long. Someone will figure out you’re not really me!”

“C’mon, buddy,” the voice on the other end said. “Spencer’s been in Danny’s body for two months now. And not even you could tell the difference!”

Julian’s jaw dropped. He suddenly realized he had talked to Danny many times in the past two months--Danny had visited him! They trained together!--and had never realized he wasn’t who he was supposed to be. However, a vague memory suddenly came to the surface: he and Danny, in the showers after a workout. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Danny’s eyes were on his body more than usual, and then there was that slap on his ass as they walked out to the locker room…

“Whatever, bro,” Danny said, shaking his thin little fists. “Don’t get too comfy because you fucked up. Julian and I are together now, and we’re gonna undo this.” Danny hung up the phone and paced around the room. Something in Julian’s big, beefy body surged with affection for his buddy. He imagined Danny’s body, the way he was supposed to look, and suddenly saw it in a new light: so pretty, so masculine, so cut and athletic. But something about that man in this thin, angelic-faced wisp of a body made Julian’s fat cock jump.

“So, if Lloyd just switched you,” Danny said after a few moments of wracking his brain, “then whatever he used to do it should still be here, right?”

Julian leapt to his feet. His right knee buckled and he had to grab the couch to support himself.

“Yeah, careful, you have a bad knee,” Danny pointed out as he leapt forward to steady his friend.

“Jesus, Lloyd’s body is beat all to hell,” Julian said, leaning on Danny’s thin shoulders. “But you’re right. Let’s ransack the house. We’ll find whatever it was.”

“I’ll check the garage,” Danny said. “Lloyd used to spend a lot of time out there.”

“I’ll check our bedroom, I guess,” Julian shrugged. He had nothing to go on; any room was as likely a spot as any other.

Julian hustled up the stairs, careful of his knee. At the top, he paused, winded. “Jesus,” he gasped. “I didn’t realize what a big fatass I am right now,” he said, once again patting his thick gut.

In the bedroom, he got to work, ransacking it without concern for the mess he was leaving behind (since, after all, it wasn’t his mess). Spencer and Lloyd had separate bureaus, and it was clear whose was whose immediately (dainty underwear was clearly Spencers, and Julian knew exactly who the XXL boxers belonged to). He found a small wand vibrator wrapped in a pair of jeans in the bottom drawer of Spencer’s (“Why hide this?” Julian said with a smirk) and an issue of Leather Daddies tucked in the back of Lloyd’s (“Who buys physical porn nowadays?” Julian chuckled as he tossed it aside) but nothing else out of the ordinary.

He got the same results in the walk-in closet as he tossed clothes aside, although he found nothing interesting there either--but as he left it, he glanced up and saw a small panel in the ceiling. He dragged over a nightstand and used it to boost himself. The panel lifted away easily and he used his phone as a flashlight to peer inside. Sure enough, a small metal box was inside.

“I didn’t find anything,” Danny said as he came back in. “Jesus, you wrecked our room!”

“Not our room,” Julian reminded him as he emerged from the closet with the dusty box. “This fucker is locked. You know where Lloyd might hide the key?”

Danny shook his head. “You think he’d keep it on his keyring?” he theorized.

“Who gives a fuck,” Julian said, tossing the metal box on the ground. He grabbed the nightstand, raised it into the air and slammed it down on the box, smashing it wide open. Danny’s look of surprise melted into a smirk. Julian just shrugged his beefy shoulders. “What’s the point of being a tubby powerhouse if I don’t throw my weight around a little?” he said. He couldn’t help but noticing Danny’s hand sliding down to his crotch, as if to hide something growing in his pants. Julian smiled; it felt good to turn his buddy on. Maybe it was being in Lloyd’s body, he wondered, but he also resolved not to think too deeply about it.

Inside the box was an old, tattered book whose pages fell out as soon as Julian opened it. “The fuck language is this?” Julian said, examining the silvery ink and the unreadable script on each of the pages.

“Is Lloyd, like, a warlock or something?” Danny surmised. “I dunno why, it bugs me that I didn’t know that. Like I was being lied to or something…”

“Of course he was lying to you,” Julian said, pulling a small vial from the busted box as well. “There’s a little left,” he said, holding it up to the light. “What do you think?”

Danny shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he said.

“Imagine if you and I switched bodies now,” Julian chuckled. He watched Danny’s eyes travel up and down his big,burly frame.

“Oh, so I could be the musclebear top?” Danny said, his tongue darting out. “Sorry,” he said, suddenly embarrassed.

“Naw, it’s cool,” Julian said, grabbing Danny’s dainty shoulder to reassure him. “I actually think… I mean, it could be kinda cool. YOu being all big and stuff… and me being all small, and weak…”

“Hey, I’ve been working out!” Danny said defensively, but the smile never left his face.

Julian shrugged, uncorked the bottle, and drank its remains--barely a sip.

He felt lightheaded immediately. Danny stepped forward, concerned, as Julian started to wobble unsteadily. Danny’s voice suddenly sounded distant, like he was at the other end of a tunnel, and Julian felt like he was falling…

He opened his eyes, shocked. He was on a plane, in a window seat… It looked like first class. He looked down at his body--he was Julian Edelman again!--and glanced to his right. Danny--the hunky wide receiver he was supposed to be--was next to him! “Danny?” he said. His buddy looked perplexed, but a moment later he felt like he was falling again.

When he opened his eyes, he was Lloyd again. He was on the floor, his legs folded beneath him. Danny, in Spencer’s body, was rubbing his forehead.

“You were gone for a second,” Danny explained. “Just mumbling. Not making any sense.”

“It swapped us back,” Julian explained. “I was on a plane. With you--with your other body, I mean. I think… whatever that was switched us!”

Danny looked hopeful for a moment, but then his face fell. “What does that… mean? I mean, what can we do now?”

Julian shook his head. He was so tired, so stress, his body aching so badly. He reached out and pulled Danny to him, pulling him into an embrace. He couldn’t help but kiss the man--it felt so right, like their bodies just fit together that way. His cock went rock hard. He pictured Danny’s athletic body in a uniform again--fuck, that was such a hot image--but when he opened his eyes and saw Spencer’s beautiful face, he was even more turned on.

Danny ground against his groin, moaning, as he turned around and rubbed his perky ass against Julian’s thick cock.

“God, you’re so fucking hot…” The words shocked Julian as they spilled from his mouth. He knew, absolutely, that it wasn’t Lloyd’s body taking over: he wanted to fuck Danny, in Spencer’s body, more than anything in the world.

“Fuck me,” Danny moaned, and Julian couldn’t resist. He growled--a sound he’d never made before, but again, it felt so natural--and pulled Danny against him as he rose from the floor. God, Danny was so light! And he was so big, so strong. He carried the man to the bed and threw him down. Danny’s leg’s went up immediately. Julian wondered how flexible Danny had been as a football player, if he would be able to do that same maneuver when they swapped back.

As he fucked Danny, he jerked his lover’s dick, kissing his thin chest, his little nipples, as Danny squealed and moaned. There was no mystery about who was who then; their identities were cemented, Julian knew. No matter what happened, something had been unlocked inside him, an affection for Danny that had, perhaps, been there all along. But living as husbands allowed it to blossom.

As he came, Danny did the same, spewing over their bellies. They collapsed into each other, weakly kissing and groping at each other as they moaned and curled up in their own mess in the unmade bed. Everything felt so right, Juilan thought. They could figure out how they were going to swap back in the morning. Just then, he was exactly where he wanted to be, and as Danny softly snored into his belly, he wondered if his buddy felt exactly the same way.

*

“Real fucking cute.”

The voice--his voice, but not coming from his body--woke Julian out of a deep sleep. He was shocked and confused to be looking up at his own face. He suddenly realized he was naked, his bellly hair plastered with Danny’s load. He pulled a sheet up to cover himself before he realized what was going on.

Julian Edelman and Danny Amendola, the NFL football players, were standing in Lloyd and Spencer Wittman’s bedroom. Julian gritted his teeth. “You motherfuckers,” he said. Anger overcame his shame and he leapt out of the bed. As Lloyd, he was bigger than he was as Julian; the other man was considerably smaller and, Julian was sure, weaker. He grabbed the wide receiver and prepared to pummel his pretty fucking face.

The man in his body was too fast for him, swiping a foot out at the bigger man’s bad knee. Julian toppled to the ground with a moan as the two football players laughed at him.

“How fucking dare you?” said Danny from the bed. “How dare you come here in our bodies?”

“It’s not to switch back, if you’re wondering,” said Spencer, walking with a confidence he’d never had before the swap. “Babe, you want to finish them off?”

“Gladly,” Lloyd-in-Julian’s-body said. “Because this whole bodyswap thing must be very confusing for you guys, right? I see you did some digging, and let’s just be realistic… the formula that swapped us was so fucking hard to make, it took me two whole months to make another after I swapped Spencer with Danny. So don’t go thinking you’re going to recreate it on your own, without my expertise.”

Julian watched as the man with his face suddenly produced a small medallion. He held it up and spoke some words in an unfamiliar language. They echoed. Julian could feel them in his chest.

He could hear his heartbeat--it was all he could hear.

He felt like he was floating. Then it felt like the strings were cut, and he came crashing to earth.

He opened his mouth to tell the body thief to go fuck himself. He wanted to scream out a threat, to double up his fists and come at him. But he felt a smile spread across his face. “You boys are pro football players/” he said. Julian was shocked. He hadn’t meant to say that! But his body seemed to be on autopilot. “I don’t know much about football,” he said, “but if you boys are famous… well, we’re honored you could come visit!”

The man in his body turned to Danny, speaking the same unearthly words. Danny opened his mouth to protest, but then his posture relaxed. “Honey!” Danny said. “Stop looking at them like that! You’re making me jealous.”

Lloyd blinked--his name was Lloyd. No, it wasn’t, it was… Lloyd. He looked over at Spencer, his husband. No! That wasn’t Spencer, somebody swapped them. It was… Spencer, his soulmate.

“There,” said the hunky athlete as he backed away. “Give them a few minutes,” he said to his heartthrob of a buddy, “and they’ll forget we were even here. From now on they can’t do anything out of the ordinary for Lloyd and Spencer Wittman.”

The dark-haired beauty smiled. “Will they remember who they are?”

“It may come and go,” said the one with the dimples, “but they’ll never be able to do anything we couldn’t do.” As they backed away, he grabbed the broken metal box from the ground and the old book. “They’ll forget all about this bodyswapping stuff, too,” he said. “They’ll just live out our lives, always feeling like something is off but never figuring out exactly what.”

The dark-haired one waved as they backed out the door. “Have fun! I know we will,” he said.

Then they closed the door.

Lloyd sat there, confused. He felt like he had just woken up from a horrible nightmare. He turned to Spencer, who looked just as shaken.

“You okay, babe?” he said, pulling his lover into his beefy arms.

“Honey, I feel… not great,” Spencer said. “Like there’s something I’m supposed to remember…”

“Let’s take the day off,” Lloyd suggested. “Jesus, the room’s a mess! When did this happen?”

Spencer shook his head. “I have no idea. I think we should take the day off.” He drew circles on Lloyd’s burly gut. “But I don’t think we should rest.”

Lloyd felt his fat cock starting to rise. “I’m right there with you, lover.”