Sixteen minutes.

It took them sixteen minutes to wake up.

Jessica told them that the only reason she and Fer hadn’t been more freaked out this time was because she had noticed and calculated out that the time it had been taking them to return to consciousness post-swap was increasing by a factor of four each time. If they hadn’t woken up by the twenty-minute mark, she said, she would have called an ambulance.

She very nearly ended up doing so anyway, because the headache they both got lasted for the next hour.

Allan went to go lie in bed with Kat, while Allie took the futon after Fer closed the blinds to help lower the brightness of the room. He and Jessica moved back over to the dining room table, keeping their volume to a minimum by communicating mostly through the written word. Talking and watching TV were out of the question, so all Allie could do was wait for the pain to finish pounding through her head and retreat back into the recesses from which it came.

Just lay there, eyes closed, and try to rest.

…Was this worth it?

Her hand, previously lying on her forehead, moved its way down to touch her beard and feel its bristly texture. A flutter of euphoria stirred up within her, and she weakly smiled despite her suffering.

Yes. Yes, it was.

She hoped Allan was feeling the same way in her form. Despite not quite being able to understand how anyone could enjoy being a girl, she could at the very least relate to the euphoric feeling of being in the right body for once.

She frowned.

Maybe I should be using different pronouns to refer to myself now.

…

He… tried them out.

He grinned, wider this time.

Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Allie was enjoying himself.

Then he wrinkled his brow.

What about a new name? Can’t be a boy named Allie, can I?

He tried to come up with one, but the headache stymied any attempts at creativity.

Guess I could steal Allan’s name. He won’t be wanting it anymore, I imagine. But…

He moved his hand back up to his forehead, pinching his temples.

But it’s too close to Allie. It’d feel weird. And be confusing while I’m still in this world.

He sighed.

Whatever, I’ll figure it out later, when my brain work goodlier.

He let his eyes open just a tad.

“…Jess? Fer?” he called quietly, trying not to disturb the tiny anger gnomes eating away at his frontal lobe. He heard quiet feet padding over to him.

“Yes, Allll… Al?” Fer responded, haltingly. The guy on the futon smiled weakly. ‘Al’ didn’t quite suit him, but it was a good attempt to not call him by his girl name.

“Could you get me another glass of water? And maybe Tylenol?” he pleaded. Fer chuckled at this.

“Water, sure, but you can’t have more Tylenol for a few hours. It can really damage your liver if you take too much.” He snorted, as if it was some in-joke with himself. Futon Man didn’t get it.

…Futon Man really wanted a new name.

Fer quickly (and quietly) hopped over to the kitchen. On his way back, holding a full glass of water, he stepped on the yoga mat that was on the floor. It slid out from underneath him, causing the cup of water to spill all over it and the floor, as a rare expletive slid out from Fer’s mouth.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, mate, I told Alla- er, your sibling, that they should really be stowing this yoga mat when nobody’s using it,” he grumbled, setting the half-empty glass down on the floor and trudging back to the kitchen to get a towel. “It’s a trip hazard.”

Stupid yoga mat. Ruining my water.

Futon Man frowned.

Something… something was there.

Yoga mat?

…Mat.

Matt.

Matthew.

Mateo.

He blinked.

It…

It’s so stupid, but…

Mateo decided to try it out anyway.

He grinned from ear to ear, despite his exacerbated headache from all the commotion.

It fits.

Mateo Cardona, or Matt for the Spanishly-disadvantaged.

He may have been born and raised in Texas, but his heritage demanded his government name stay at least somewhat Hispanic, or so he felt. Hopefully he wouldn’t find out later, after already getting attached to the name, that it sounded weird or meant something strange to more proficient Spanish speakers than himself. That would suck.

Fer came back from the kitchen with a hand towel, and Matt was sure Allan would have thrown a fit about disgracing such a towel by using it on the floor, had he not been incapacitated.

“Are you doing any better, Al? Did you drink any of the water yet? I can’t tell,” Fer inquired as he mopped up the spill.

“Matt.”

Fer stopped mopping to stare at him. “Yeah, I’m getting to it. I figured the floor was wood, so I should start there.”

“No, I mean…” He sighed, feeling kind of silly. “I mean… I think I want to try the name Matt. Mateo, really, but… either works, so long as you don’t butcher the Spanish pronunciation, I guess.”

Fer gasped quietly, taking in this new information. He glanced between Matt and the mat, suspicion evident in his eyes. Then he shrugged, a joyous warm smile coming over his face and radiating so brightly that Matt very nearly had to close his eyes again. “¡Claro, Mateo!”

Right, of course, Fernando’s family was originally from Spain. Matt very nearly forgot, what with the heavy British accent and lack of ever hearing him speak his native tongue. He should really ask Fer – well, his Fer – to speak Spanish with him sometimes so they could practice together.

“Er, this might not be doable in your current state of pain, but…” Was Fer blushing a bit now? “Mind if I give you a hug, Mateo? This is just… I’m really happy for you, mate!”

With some effort, Matt grunted himself up to a sitting position. “I’m all ears… wait, no… arms.” He had barely stuck his arms out when Fer very nearly leaped onto him and gave him a massive bear hug. Matt had to slap Fer on the back a few times to get enough air to speak.

“Still… headache… ow… thanks but… not so tight…”

Fer blushed even harder now. “Right, er, sorry… Got a wee bit overeager there.”

“What are you two doing over there?” Jessica call-whispered, still over in the dining room. Matt was about to respond, but Fer beat him to it.

“His name is Matt!” he cheered, forgetting to be quiet in his obvious excitement. The head-splitting sound reverberated through Matt’s eardrums and woke up those pesky brain gnomes that had finally begun to settle down a bit.

He groaned and laid back down on the futon, but even as he felt physically ill, emotionally he was filled with pure, unadulterated euphoria.

* * *

Allan and Kat were laying on his bed, pillows over both their faces, but no sheets or covers laid on top of them. Overhead, the fan spun lazily with an electric buzzing sound, trying to push around the cool air from the small AC vent above the bathroom door.

“What do you think they’re yelling about?” a muffled Kat asked.

“I dunno, the pillow obscured most of it,” Allan replied, equally as muffled. “I think they’re pissed off at my yoga mat for some reason.”

“Probably made Fer slip again. He warned you about it, my guy.”

“Yeah, but it was in use up until now, with someone or other laying on it… Kat.” He poked her in the side, making her squeak. “Oh, and by the way…” Allan pulled the pillow off his head so he could speak more clearly, now that conversation was seemingly possible once again. “Maybe you could stop with the ‘guy’s and whatnot?”

“Why?” Now it was Kat’s turn to remove her pillow, revealing a smirk underneath. “’Cause of the body you’re in? Wanting to roleplay again? Sure, I’m game, Allie.”

He sighed. “No, not that, exactly…” He paused, biting his lower lip in consternation.

She’s been teasing me about my… about what I thought was a crossdressing fetish for so long…

He gave her a sideways glance as they laid together. Her smirk had dropped into a look of worry mixed with confusion.

But she’s not actually phobic, is she?

Then he realized.

I guess if she does turn out to be transphobic, then she’d be a shitty person, and I wouldn’t want to be with her anyway.

That settled it.

“Kat, I’m… I think I’m trans.”

Kat blinked a few times.

“Huh. You know…” She turned her head back up to face the ceiling. “That does make a lot of sense, now that you mention it.”

Allan was indignant. “The fuck does that mean?”

Kat shrugged, raising her hands above her head and sliding them between the pillow and mattress. “I dunno, like… there were some pretty dang obvious signs, if you aren’t being goddamn blind to what’s in front of you, like I was. Or, I guess, like we were.”

“Like what?”

Kat just stared at him. He scoffed.

“Okay, fine, besides the whole ‘crossdressing’ thing. Like… yeah, that’s pretty fucking clear in retrospect, but it’s still a fetish to some people, so… there’s at least some conceivable excuse. What else was there?”

“I mean… you weren’t uncomfortable as a girl, for one.”

 “You wanna know how Allie and I rationalized that away?” Allan had to laugh at the memory of that morning. “Brain adjustments.”

“Brain… adjustments? Like… being in a girl’s body was making you more comfortable as a girl?” Kat guffawed. “Dude, that’s like… Even I, resident dumbass, know the basic fact of what trans people are and how that makes zero fucking sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, but… I dunno, Allie suggested it and I had to grab onto something, or else I could feel my anxiety around this whole business threatening to tear me apart from the inside.” He made a resigned face. “But I guess I should’ve realized when you weren’t ‘adjusting’ like we thought we had been.”

“Yeah, it… it got pretty uncomfy pretty quick.” Kat winced. “Like… it was a fun idea, but then it became reality, and then it was like I was… putting on the wrong clothes, or something. I started thinking about other people seeing me as a guy, and feeling the wrong parts all over me, and it just…” She shivered. “It made me kinda sick, and I wanted out. Allie’s body still felt kinda wrong, but not nearly as bad as yours did.”

“Huh. That sounds like you might have gotten a concentrated dose of gender dysphoria.”

“Maybe, yeah.” She made a shrugging motion, as best as Allan could tell from where he laid. “I dunno how this shit works. You seem to know a lot more than I do for someone who’s just coming to this realization today.”

Allan shrugged in the same manner. “I’ve been thinking about this stuff for a long-ass time. I just never got over my shit enough to really imagine I could possibly be until now.” He took a long, deep breath then released it in one slow go, like a voiceless sigh. “The internalized transphobia certainly didn’t help.”

“Which is…? ‘Cause I know you’re not transphobic. You’re too nice for that.”

Allan gave her a sad smile. “Well… truly, secretly, I kind of… have been. Mostly towards myself, but I can’t help but see non-passing trans people and mentally ‘other’ them in my head. It sucks, it’s not right, and it’s something I would like to train myself out of… and maybe accepting myself is the first step to doing so.”

“I hope that’s the case. Wouldn’t wanna be in a relationship with a bigot.”

“Me neither.” He sucked air in through his teeth. “Actually… to be honest, before I told you, I was kinda worried you might have been transphobic in some way.”

“Me?” Kat slapped him on the shoulder. “Dude, seriously? I’m part of the LGBT community myself, how could I be any kind of phobic?”

“Well, I mean… how about all the goddamn jokes about my ‘crossdressing fetish’?”

At this, Kat visibly blanched.

“Oh. Oh, right. Yeah, uh… shit. I mean… to be fair, I always enjoyed seeing you light up while crossdressing. It was just something cute and private I could fuck with you about, y’know?”

“But it wasn’t just ‘messing around’ for me. It was like… a big deal. And it honestly kinda hurt a bit whenever you’d bring it up when I would explicitly tell you not to.”

“I just… Shit. Yeah, that’s… that’s kinda shitty of me, now that you mention it. I didn’t really think it was affecting you like that, but… shit, I guess I didn’t really think about how it was bothering you much at all. I just got used to it and I thought it was like our own inside joke kinda deal…” Kat groaned. “Fuck, even if it was a fetish thing… and now, knowing it’s not…” She took a deep breath. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That was really shitty of me, fuck.”

“Kat… it’s okay. That’s all in the past now, and it sounds like you’ve learned from it. We good.” Allan chuckled. “So you thought I was cute while crossdressing?”

“Well… yeah! It was like getting to see a piece of you I never saw before! You’d get all nervous and flustered and excited and shit, and like… now I know why.” She smiled. “That was a piece of the real you, underneath all that man-stuff.”

Allan couldn’t help but blush. “I guess that should have been another hint, huh.”

“Yeah. Along with the fact that, even when we had crossdressing sex, you never stuck your dick in me.”

“We… we tried!” Allan stammered, cheeks getting warmer. “That one time, you know… and I couldn’t… uh…?”

Kat snorted. “Yeah, you lost that hard-on faster than most men take to cum. Which isn’t very long at all, if the straights are to be believed.”

“Poor straight girls,” Allan giggled. God, that sounded nice with this voice.

“Oh yeah, I guess this means I’m not really bi after all,” Kat laughed. “There was a reason you were my one exception to the rule, huh? I always wondered why you were the only guy to get me all hot under the choker.”

Allan slapped her on the shoulder, lightly, then paused in thought.

“Wait, does that mean… I’m a lesbian?” He whispered the last word, as if it would summon Sappho herself if said too loudly.

Kat grinned cheekily at him. “You and me both, sis.”

Allan’s heart fluttered in his chest.

“So, what’s your name gonna be?” she questioned, twisting her body into a side-laying position.

Allan blinked. “My… my what?”

“Well, I can’t exactly call my girlfriend Allan, now can I?” She frowned. “Unless you wanna keep it, I guess? It’s your name…”

Allan made a shooing motion with his hands. “No, ew, gross, no thank you. I just… I dunno what to pick. I did only figure this out like an hour ago, after all.” He sighed.

“Could just be Allie. That would be easy enough. You already have her body.”

“Not a fan of it being so much like Allan.” He put his hands up to his head and squeezed his temples together, willing his headache to not come back while he tried to pump his creative juices through his brain’s mechanisms.

“What about… Sierra?” Kat suggested.

“Cute, but that means ‘saw’ in Spanish. Like, a saw that cuts things. There’s a reason that mountain range is called the Sierra Nevada – the Snowy Saw. Dumbass Americans, taking foreign words for their kids without even knowing their meaning…”

Kat shoved him. “You’re also a dumbass American, in case you forgot.”

“At least I know what words mean…” Allan grumbled. Then he snapped his fingers. “Ooh, what about Claire? That’s pretty.”

At this suggestion, Kat guffawed. “Dude, that’s a fucking Stan Lee name.”

“The shit do you mean, a Stan Lee name?”

“Peter Parker? Reed Richards? Bruce Banner?”

Allan took a second, then groaned. “…Okay, yeah, I get it now. Yikes.”

“Yeah, don’t choose anything with a ‘K’ sound unless you want to get endlessly teased.”

“By who? We’re not in fucking grade school, Kat.”

She grinned. “By me, of course.”

He shoved her back.

They laid in silence for a little while longer, listening to the fans, both overhead and in his computer. He turned over to look at his desk, cringing internally at how much power he must have wasted leaving his computer on since before the party. The RGB lights in the fans spun and pulsed mesmerizingly.

Maybe something with colors.

He stared at the pattern, trying to commit its vibrancy to memory.

Blue, green, yellow, red, violet, cyan… none of these are goddamn girl names.

No, wait, Violet?

He shook his head.

Nah, doesn’t feel quite right.

Then he looked at the orange LED on top of the case that indicated hard drive activity.

Wait, not orange…

…Amber.

He suddenly sat straight up.

“What? Huh? Everything good?” Kat asked, sitting up herself, albeit more slowly than he did.

“Try… try calling me Amber.” Something about that name just lit up the euphoria engine in his gut.

“Pfft! Amber?” Kat chortled. “Dude, that’s like a bimbo cheer-” She paused, noticing the look on his face. “Wait, no, sorry, you’re serious, aren’t you? You like that name?”

He turned away from her, lower lip quivering. “N-never mind, forget it, it was just an idea…”

Then he got violently glomped from behind. “No, bitch, if that’s your name, then that’s your name! I’m sorry I laughed, it’s… seriously, it’s great.”

He halfway turned his face to meet hers, which was poking out over his shoulder. “Are you being honest with me right now? You’re sure it’s not a ‘bimbo cheerleader’ name?”

Kat sighed. “Look, I… I’m not gonna lie, I have some personal history with that name. I actually knew this dumbass cheerleader back in high school called Amber, and she was kind of a stuck-up bitch to me and my ex. Called us the ‘school dykes’ and everything. Thanks so much, good ol’ small-town Texas upbringing…” She grimaced. “But, y’know… I guess I can change what it means in my dumb li’l head if it makes you happy…” She kissed him on the cheek. “…Amber.”

He couldn’t tell if it was the name or the kiss, but he could feel his front flush completely, from forehead to bosom.

Wait, no, let’s try…

She felt her heart skip a beat even thinking about using new pronouns.

And then she did, and her heart just about did a somersault in her chest.

“Oh my god, babe, that’s like… the most red I think I’ve ever seen you. It’s down to your fucking tits, I think!”

Amber couldn’t make any coherent words, just an ‘e-he-he-he-he’ like she was doing the world’s worst Peter Griffin impression.

Kat displayed one of her classic Kat smirks. “Oh, I think I know how to fix this broken lawnmower…”

Then she grabbed and turned Amber’s head around to fully face her own.

“I love you, Amber, my sweet, cute, adorable girlfriend.”

And she kissed her.

With tongue.

Amber’s brain melted into a puddle of synapses all firing at once.

* * *

The bedroom door opened, and out crept a girl, looking nervous and a little flushed. A guy who looked to be her twin had been chilling on a futon, finally getting over his headache, but now stood up to meet her, a similarly nervous smile on his face. They both looked like they had a lot they wanted to say to each other, but restrained themselves in favor of a simple greeting.

“Hey,” said the guy. “I’m Matt.”

“Hey yourself,” said the girl. “I’m Amber.”