AC/DC

Chapter VII

"Oh yeah," Rhett whispered in my ear as he thrust me backwards with chills going down my spine, "Fuck that feels good."

"Don't stop dude," I growled as Rhett moaned, "Fuck me harder!"

Rhett and I gazed into each other's eyes. Leaning in closer to me as his eyes deepened, I feel his lips brushing on mine. "I love you, Mark."

"I love you, dude. You're so fucking hot."

"I know," he moaned the classic line from The Empire Strikes Back.

"Oh, Rhett! I'm- I'm gonna-!"

My eyes jerked open and I violently rose with a jolt, screaming, albeit softly at the dream I had just had. My cheeks were wet, while my body was bathed in a cold sweat.

"Why the fuck am I having a gay sex dream?" I asked myself softly.

My sheets were twisted around my limbs. Almost immediately, I came to the conclusion that the sex dream I had was so intense till I was thrashing in my sleep. My heart pounded against my chest as the remnants of my vivid dream still clung to my mind.

"What the fuck does this mean? I'm gay?!" I exclaimed.

The mere mention of the word saw a hypodermic of adrenaline emptied into my carotid as the apprehension level continued to increase.

"I've got to stop dreaming about sex because it's turning me gay," I muttered to myself lazily, as I groggily pulled the sheets towards me and kept the dreams out of my mind for as long as possible.

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The annoying and screeching sounds of naughty students greeted my ears the following morning as my red-eyed face staggered into the school hall, burned out by the lack of sleep I had got.

"Good morning students." I spoke with as much strength and sternness as I could, "Please keep quiet and don't be a nuisance."

As I expected, my opening sentence was a new low, for once again not a single soul in the school bothered to give a damn about my words. My eyes scanned for the one person who could bail me out of this crisis of confidence.

"Where are you, Rhett?" I muttered under my breath.

Alas, he was nowhere to be found. My heart sunk like the Titanic when the chuckling, fair face of Rhett Evans did not greet me that morning.

"Mark!" scowled Madam Mallory as she entered a hall full of rowdiness, "Why the hell are you still dreaming?"

I snapped back to reality upon hearing her words.

"Pull yourself together and make sure those students shut up!" she yelled.

"Yes, Madam Mallory," I told her feebly as I proceeded to attempt asserting my control of the assembly. Yet, Rhett lingered in my mind, refusing to budge like a nasty stain on a white shirt.

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"Mark Ashaan Mangal! Stop getting lost in your dreams and get back to reality!"

Madam Mallory's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the entire class, as I jumped and looked up at her face.

Looking at my watch, I realized that the bell was almost going to ring at any moment. My test pad was filled with a shoddily-written blue ink essay that I had no idea what it was about. Interlocked with the essay were hideous doodles that made me think of Rhett.

"Now Mark has been kind enough to remind us how important dreams are in life," she said as the other students in my class giggled, "Would you like sharing it with the rest of the class?"