My eyes open slowly, showing me the pale ceiling. I wait patiently for them to adjust and remove the blurry mask of sleep from my vision. When it doesn't fade, I shoot up into a sitting position and attempt to rub it from my eyes. Blinking rapidly, I realize I'm not helping at all. "What the fuck?" I mumble aloud, and shock myself with how deep my voice is. "Wha-" I jump out of bed and trip on my... What are those, slippers?! I don't wear slippers. I run frantically and somehow simultaneously slowly, toward where my bedroom door is, but only find a smooth, white wall. Squinting at my surroundings, I feel my way around the room, which seems significantly larger than it should be, until my hands bump into a door frame. I throw the door open, expecting to stumble into the hallway, but instead I find a slightly messy bathroom. There's a mirror on the wall over the sink and toilet. It's a nice mirror, that takes up a huge portion of the wall. I turn to it, my mouth hanging open as I breathe heavily. The man in the mirror is twenty-times more muscular than I am- er, was. My bare chest shines in the little bit of sunlight that peeks through the window; no hair stains my pure skin.

"Oh... Shit," I whisper, sensually rubbing my hands up and down my torso, pausing over my newly enlarged pecs to cup them as if I had woken up in a woman's body instead of whoever this is. Unless the gods of plastic surgery paid me a visit whilst I slept, I must still be dreaming. There is no way this is happening. I can't go from lean with short, prematurely greying hair to muscular with shaggy, black hair. I move closer to the mirror, my heart vibrating harder than a game controller set on a glass coffee table during a boss fight. My eyes, small and dark, struggle to focus on my new face. A shaking hand- my shaking hand- reaches up to poke my square jaw and chiseled cheeks. "Oh- no fucking way," I inhale sharply, blinking. With each blink, I hope that I'll open my eyes to my own reflection, but I see nothing of the sort.

"This is weird," I inhale, wishing I didn't recognize my voice. My new voice. Blindly stepping backward, I repeat, "this is weird," louder, and more frantic. I gasp when I see my lower waist in the reflection. It's bare. If I stepped any farther back... I look down and let out a shocked yell. My vision is too blurry to make out any details, but I'm pretty fucking sure I know what I just saw. I'm so glad Mark doesn't have good eyesight. I sprint back into his room and throw open every drawer, mentally berating myself for even looking there in the first place. I feel so exposed, so violated, and it's not even my body.

After yanking on his famous Markiplier brand pajama pants, (and being extremely cautious with where my vision wanders,) I groan and furiously rub my eyes before letting my hands slide down my hips, clutching them, feeling the soft, thin cloth that covers them. I swallow harshly, unable to stop myself when I squeeze the sides my toned thighs. Damn. Shaking my head, I slowly creep toward the nightstand. Once I have his glasses on, I can't help but look down at the impossibility that is my body. Everything is perfect, even the scar that goes directly down the middle. I trail one finger up it, my breathing coming in heavy huffs. Oh, this is wrong. True, I always wanted to get a good look at him shirtless- but not like this! Hot damn, is he sexy though. No wonder #SexyMark was a thing.

Wait. If I'm here, in his body... Does that mean he's..? I search around the room for his phone, finding it on the nightstand, plugged into the wall. There are several texts from 'Jack :)'.

"Get on Skype."

"Wake up."

"Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on?"

"Where do you keep your towels?"

"Never mind."

Not worrying about long distance fees, I call the number.

"Oh, thank god!" The man in my body answers.

"Ugh- is that what I sound like?" I cringe at Mark's newly high-pitched, scratchy voice.

"Jack, I... What the hell is this?"

"Fuck if I know," I walk out of his room and start down the stairs, sitting on the third-to-last one.

"You didn't do anything weird?"

"What do you mean? I just went to sleep and woke up blind as fuck in your bed!"

"Same here, except I woke up seeing marvelously. Nice pajamas, by the way," he says, referring to my boxers.

"At least I fucking cover myself," I hiss.

"Oh... Sorry about that. Uh..."

I groan again, rubbing my free hand down the side of my face. This is beyond awkward. "So ya fuckin' showered?" I ask after a full minute of suspenseful breathing on both ends. "How'd that go?"

"I... I'm sorry. I just wanted to shower, I felt dirty."

"W-why?" I ask, nearly shouting, my throat tightening in response.

He pauses for a very long time. "We gotta fix this Jack, I've seen more of you than I ever meant to..."

"Ditto," I chuckle darkly.

"Hey..." He says after a while, my own voice grating on my ears.

"Yeah?" I sigh softly.

"You have to upload my videos."

"Oh, shit. Same for you..."

"But that means-"

"Trading passwords, yeah... Shit!" I reach up and tug frustratedly on my thick hair. "I mean, I can trust you, so..."

"Yeah... But god damn it, Jack, hearing my voice with an Irish accent is really fucking strange. We have to fix this, I... I'm going to buy a plane ticket. But I'll use my credit card."

"Hurry up, then," I feel the inside of my new thigh with caressing fingers. "Just tell me what I need to do."

~~~

Mark arrives in my body very late that night. I open the door and stare at him. A small squeak escapes my throat. That's me- but at the same time, it's not. This is taking out of body experiences to the next level. His face flushes and he wastes no time entering his apartment. I keep my eyes on him, but stay by the open door. He's wearing my Starbomb shirt and my maroon sweatpants. What a... Unique fashion sense he has.

I watch my hands take my jacket and drop it on the couch. I watch myself run my fingers through my greying hair, only for him to find himself disappointed with his newly cropped length. I watch as he moves my lips to speak. "Still in shock?" He says in my voice.

"Agh!" I cry, taking a step back and shaking my head. No! I'm dreaming! I have to be.

"This is weird for me too, Jackyboy. But we have to figure out how-"

"Stop, stop, stop!" I cover his ears with my palms and squeeze his eyes shut. This is wrong, this isn't normal, this can't be happening. His head is swimming with my thoughts, possibilities and options, his heart is pumping thick blood through my unprepared veins. His cold hands grab my wrists and slowly pry my palms from my head. I open my eyes to see... Me. My blue eyes are wide, and just as terrified as I feel.

"Good lord, Jack, breathe!" My real body commands.

I gasp, air filling lungs that I do not own. "Get me out of here," I beg Mark, crushing him in a hug. He's so small in my arms, which is something I'd never thought I'd say when thinking about him. He holds me against him, spinning me around and leading me to the stairs. I sit on them, and he closes his front door before returning to me. We stay quiet for a while so I can catch my breath. This is without a doubt the weirdest thing I've ever experienced.

"If I know anything about movies, I know that something triggered this," he begins. "And maybe something can trigger us to go back to normal. Did you do anything yesterday that you wouldn't normally do?"

"I, I'm not sure... Did you?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But let's go over our nights, okay?" I nod and he continues, "well... I ate a dinner of pizza and milk, which I bought from Wal Mart. Then I cleaned up, laid down in bed and got on Tumblr. I scrolled through my tag... Reblogged a few things... Checked Facebook, uh... Not much else..."

"I was on Tumblr answering asks for an hour or so... Ate a bag of chips and drank a Mountain Dew, got back on Tumblr, reblogged some fan art, recorded a game, edited my videos for today, created a thumbnail for the first one... Got on Twitter and ate a sandwich while going through tweets, watched some TV-"

"You're busy as hell, Jack. Did you even go to sleep?"

"I did. But not until four AM or so."

"Is that all though? Nothing else?"

"After TV I went back on Tumblr and finally got in bed. I fell asleep with my phone in my hand. That's it."

"Okay..." He breathes. "I got nothing."

"Me either. Unless you or I have some unanswered chain mail."

His eyes go wider yet, "do you think-"

"I don't know, I'm willing to believe anything at this point."

Without another word, he darts away. I stumble after him and find him logging into his computer in his recording room. He logs on to Tumblr and scrolls. He scrolls endlessly.

"Is there a point to all this?" I huff impatiently.

After a few minutes, he spins in his chair and tilts his head back to look up at me, a breathless expression masking his fear. "Kiss me," he blurts out.

"Wh-what?" I start to laugh, but stop once I realize the sincerity of his statement.

"You have to kiss me, Jack."

"Why?" I look at the screen behind him. It's a picture of some obscure symbols and writing. "What's so special about that?"

"Read the caption," he begs, scooting aside for me to move closer.

"They say that once you know the body of another, you begin to love them," I start, my voice trembling. "What better way to get to know a body than by living in it? Stare at this photo for one minute, thinking of nothing but love. In exactly a week's time, you'll wake up in the body of the person whom the universe has destined for you... Mark, that's fucking ridiculous. It looks like a child made it. And we're not destined to be together. You know-"

"How would you explain it then?"

"I- I don't know, did you stare at the picture?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Well I fucking didn't either. That can't be it. Magic doesn't exist, anyway."

"Jack, are you sure?" He stands up, his nose mere inches from mine. "Do you fall asleep while scrolling through Tumblr often?"

"Sometimes," I admit. "But I don't look at shit like that!"

"Maybe someone reblogged it and tagged you beneath so it showed up in your feed and you just... Forgot."

"Mark, I... Do you realize how crazy this all sounds?"

"Of course I realize how crazy it sounds, but it's all I've got, okay?! Now do you want to fix this or not?"

I say nothing. Of course I want to fix this, it's freaking me out to see myself and not be able to control my own body. But something's not right. Mark seems too prepared, too understanding... "Did you... Did you do this?"

His breath catches, but he recovers quickly, "no, no, Jack! I just... I know how to fix it."

"But how did you know to look that picture up, Mark? How do you know the cure to this... This situation, if it doesn't say anything on there?"

His eyes drop. "I... I don't know."

"You're lying," I whisper.

"Jack, please," he looks up at me again, his eyes shining. "I didn't think it... I didn't expect... You- just kiss me!"

"What did you do?" I swallow, wishing there was more than a few inches between us so I could step forward menacingly.

"A week ago, I... I was feeling kinda lonely and I was scrolling through your Tumblr tag... I don't know why, okay? I just was. And I was scrolling for a really long time and... I saw this. Someone tagged you in this for some reason- but Jack I... I didn't look at it while thinking of you... I wasn't even expecting it to actually work. I thought it was just some silly trick..."

"Well, look at us," I gesture at my body and at his, though it's getting harder to tell which is which. "Does this look like some silly trick? We're here. And if you weren't thinking of me, then how come I ended up here?"

"Jack, that's what I don't know," he whimpers, leaning forward ever so slightly.

"So if I kiss you, this will all go away?" I murmur, tilting my head awkwardly.

"I admit, I did research the spell... Spell? Is that what it is? Anyway, I researched it and the only way to right our minds is to partake in an act of," he pauses, his breath coming in soft tickles across my jaw, "passion," he says finally, sending chills throughout me. I gulp once. This is not what I was expecting. Squinting my eyes closed, I grab his face more roughly than I mean to and plant my lips on his for a second before breaking away.

"I didn't even close my eyes," he protests.

"Mark, I... I can't."

"Come on, we have to. Here," he grabs my hand and drags me out into the living room. He sits on the couch and pats next to him. "Let's get comfortable."

I sit, and heave a sigh. "This sucks."

"Does it?" He asks softly, grabbing both my hands in his and staring deep into my eyes.

"I... I mean, Mark, I..."

"Shh... He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I know. It's not easy for me to do this either. In fact, it's extremely difficult, but I know I have to pay the price for what I've done."

"I..."

"Let's just get it over with okay?"

"Okay," I squeak, hating to think that I was kinda enjoying his body. He leans closer to me, his eyes closing slowly. I let my own eyelids drop, just in time for our mouths to meet. It's gentle at first, like a first kiss should be. I wrap my arms around his neck and he curls in, putting his hands on my chest. I keep my eyes closed, pretending that he looks like he should, and that I look like I should. We don't stop kissing. I don't want to anyway. Maybe he'll stop when we switch back or something. Whatever, it doesn't matter to me anymore. His lips part, and mine follow eagerly. There's nothing quite like kissing your best friend, because it's gentle, sweet, and caring- all while lacking that final element of lust and desire.

After a minute and still no result, I push him back, panting. I keep my eyes closed, unwilling to look into his eyes and see my own staring back at me.

"Ja- Jack!" He gasps- only it really does sound like him. My eyes shoot open and I see Mark- and he actually looks like himself. A huge wave of relief washes over us.

"Oh thank God," I cry, loving the thick feeling of my accent. It was as simple as if we'd switched positions: his arms were now around my neck, and mine on his chest.

"Im so sorry-" he starts, but I cut him off with a quick peck. He blinks rapidly when I pull away. Suddenly, his mouth is on mine again, and we're kissing once more, only this time, my jaw relaxes, and he lays back, pulling me on top of him. My legs slide between his and suddenly all the awkwardness of the day vanishes. I'm Jack, he's Mark, and we're just two guys making out on his couch.