Your cheek slides off the palm of the hand that you have propped up on your desk, and the feeling of your head dropping, even for that brief moment, is enough to jolt you back to reality. You blink, looking around you. No one seems to be paying attention. In fact, no one seems interested in anything that’s going on at all. A handful of students toward the front of the lecture hall are fanning themselves with their notebooks as they wait for the time to tick down to get out of the fucking exam.

That’s right, you think to yourself. You finished the exam way too early. You don’t quite remember what you were doing before you zoned out. Daydreaming, perhaps? In the back of your mind, the once-vivid image of a sex shop at the crossroads of two streets that shouldn’t exist is already fading like an ephemeral dream.

You sit up straighter when you see your crush glance in your direction. He smiles and makes a little wave with two fingers. You wave back, only to get a disapproving tut from the invigilator that’s walking nearby. You only barely hear your crush’s faint giggle over the silence of the room, but it makes your cheeks warm nonetheless.

As you’re sitting there, another epiphany comes to you. This might be your last chance at talking to him, at asking him out. He’s leaving for Europe. If you don’t muster your courage, if you don’t do anything now, you might never get the opportunity. So you sit back, you tap your foot, and you wait for the clock to tick down the last few minutes of the exam.

“Alright, class please t—” The proctor of the exam isn’t even halfway through his speech and the class is already on its feet, storming the front of the lecture hall. You squeeze through and shove your paper onto the desk in front of the proctor, disappearing back through the crowd, desperately trying to find your crush.

You see him hanging back and you walk up to him. “Hi,” you say.

“Hello,” he says. “Did you think it was easy? I thought it would be much harder…” he adds, with that adorable little lisp.

You scratch the back of your head. “Uh, yeah,” you say. Though now that you mention it you can’t really remember what the questions were. It’s like there’s a haze in your mind, making it difficult to think. “Hey,” you say, deciding that it’s now or never. “Would you mind going out with me?”

Your crush gasps and covers his mouth. His eyes twinkle as his smile reaches them. “Oh, yes!” he says. “But I need to turn in my exam first!” You didn’t exactly mean go out with you right now, but you guess there’s no harm in going out to dinner after an exam.

---

By the time that dinner is over, you can confidently say that this is the best day of your life. He’s asked you over to his apartment, and you’re pretty sure what’s coming next. But you can’t help but feel a bit bittersweet that your time together is probably going to be limited.

As you press him up against the wall and kiss him, you remember the wish that you made. To become his jockstrap so that you’ll be with him forever. You can’t help but wish again, in vain, as you lift his shirt over his flat stomach and off his body. You fall to your knees, fumbling with his pants. You free his cock from the confines of his skinny jeans and groan. He’s much bigger than you expect. It springs out at you, rests across your face, leaving a smear of pre-cum across your cheekbones.

You look up at him and grin. He moans as you run your nose up and down the length of his shaft, as you press a kiss to his tip. He places his hands on your head to gently coax you onto his cock, and you swallow him with gusto. He grunts, pumping his hips into your mouth as you work him over.

It feels good. So good to have him inside you. He tastes heavenly, and his pre-cum is sublime. Without so much as touching your own cock your entire body comes to life. Waves of pleasure crash over you as you feel your thoughts fogging up, whatever fears and doubts that you might have popping away like delicate soap bubbles. The haze in your head thickens until it’s impossible to think of anything but the cock in your mouth, and the warm tingling of your body.

The more you suck him, the closer you get to that edge, and the more you feel your body changing. Your wish is coming true. You moan out loud, or would have if you still had the ability. By then your body had mostly turned into cloth, your arms having long since become straps that hugged your crush’s ass.

Before long, you feel cum pumping down your throat, soaking through your new jockstrap body, and you can’t help but moan in your mind as an orgasm rocks through you unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. But there’s no relief from it. You’re still horny. Desperately so. But you don’t have a cock anymore.

Something is happening to your crush, and you’re not sure what it is. Your senses are dulled, and your sight isn’t there. But you can hear his voice deepening. He talks to himself, and the lisp is gone. “Fuck…” he says. He sounds dull, unintelligent. It sends a shiver of arousal through you. “Guess you make a great jockstrap,” he chuckles, stroking you.

After a few minutes you start seeing again. It’s a strange perspective, but you manage. You realize that you and your crush are standing in front of the mirror. You look sexy on his body. Speaking of which, gone is the twink that you doted on. In his place, a veritable jock, with a muscular bubble butt, well-defined abs, firm pecs, and bulging biceps.

He poses, flexes, and scratches the back of his head. “Fuck,” he says. “Thinking’s hard,” he grunts. “Fuck Europe. I should join a team.”

Right before your eyes you watch as his appartment begins to change, reality shifting around you. From thin air, your crush pulls out a football and poses with it in front of the mirror. “God, yeah,” he grunts, “I’d look great in uniform… and with my lucky jock, I’ll be unstoppable.”

He strokes you and you feel another wave of pleasure wash over you. This isn’t exactly what you wished for, but you’re now with him forever, so it’s not like you have anything to complain about.