Sweatpants, I Guess
The New World of SwapTech
chapter 7
by
swapticon
Byron looked at himself in the mirror, still wearing Luna’s red velvet mini-dress. He tugged the hem down self-consciously, then turned and saw just how much of his new ass was sticking out.
“Nope,” he said, hands up. “Absolutely not. I’m not built for this kind of exposure.”
He peeled the dress off awkwardly and tossed it over the chair. The soft, golden-brown skin of his new body still felt alien—smooth, hairless, tight. He tried not to stare at the curve of his hips in the mirror as he dug through the dresser for something, anything, less revealing.
Eventually, he found salvation: a big gray hoodie and a pair of oversized cotton sweatpants. Byron pulled them on, grateful for the coverage. The waistband of the sweats sat weirdly high on his hips, but he didn’t care. For the first time since the swap, he didn’t feel like he was one wrong move away from flashing something vital.
He plopped down on Luna’s bed and stared at the ceiling. The fan spun slowly overhead. Her phone buzzed again.
From: TryonByron42 (Luna)
“Oof. Your back is tight. Do you sleep on your stomach or something? Also, where’s the damn bourbon?”
Byron smirked.
To Luna:
“No bourbon. Just LaCroix and regret.”
Luna:
“Ugh. You’re NO FUN. Drink a White Claw and take a cute pic. Show me you’re embracing the ✨chaos✨.”
He almost typed back “I’m wearing sweatpants and hiding from the mirror”—but paused.
Was he being a coward?
This was supposed to be a vacation from himself, wasn’t it?
He stood, looked at himself again. Even in loose sweats, this body was undeniably feminine. His hips still swayed, his face still looked like a K-pop star in the right lighting. The hoodie drooped off one shoulder naturally. It was ridiculous. But he kind of liked it.
He reached for Luna’s phone and took a selfie in the hoodie. Then one with a peace sign. Then one biting his lip.
He sent the last one.
To Luna:
“Close enough?”
Her reply came fast:
“Awwww you’re hot when you’re shy 😘”
Byron tossed the phone on the bed, face red.
He wasn’t sure if she was messing with him or flirting. Maybe both.