***

Rusty threw himself on the bed. It was still early in the afternoon, but he felt like taking a nap. He closed his eyes and willed himself to chase away the dream that had recurred so often lately. Maybe he was to blame, because he never let go of something if it irked him or made him curious.

The fact that he was willing to revisit it although he knew it wasn’t doing him any good said a lot about his penchant for self-flagellation. Yeah, those were the kind of words he liked to look up in online dictionaries. Since he enjoyed a bit of pain in his sandwich, he didn’t see a lot of harm in self-flagellation, which was a bit like going in a roundabout, or fucking yourself in the ass with your own dick. If he could do that, he’d totally go for it.

Maybe that would cure him of this dream constantly torturing him. Every time, it was the same. The door to Maddox’s room would be open, and he would first sneak a peek. He would see Jonathan and Maddox sleeping on their sides, facing each other, doing that thing that Rusty couldn’t define or understand. Maybe Maddox would rest one hand possessively on Jonathan’s hip. And Jonathan would smile in his sleep, as if he knew his boyfriend was feeling him up.

If he were a sane person, he’d close the door and go about his own business. If. Oh, what a big if. But dream Rusty couldn’t be too different from real Rusty, or else he’d be somebody else. So, in the dream, he would sneak into the room and walk close to the bed, so close that he could see their big peepees, busy seeing each other eye to eye. Then, he would slowly climb into the bed, pushing himself slowly between them, making sure to gently maneuver their peepees so that they stopped smooching each other while the owners were asleep. Sure, he’d be tempted to play a little Ken and Barbie or, better said, Ken and Ken with them, but this wasn’t about dicks and what people usually did with them.

So, the next thing he would do, he would stay there, between them, feeling their breathing, steady and content. He wouldn’t even look at them; no, he would close his eyes and try to feel whatever it was that they were feeling for each other.

And he’d fail every time. Sure thing, the sex thing would be easy to imagine. Sometimes, he would imagine being Jonathan and having Maddox call him ‘babe’ and make doe-eyes at him; or he would imagine being Maddox and having Jonathan kiss him hard and firm. That would make his dick hard every time.

But it wasn’t the sex, though. No, sex had no secrets for Rusty Parker. That other thing, though, the one they called ‘love’ and all that. Nah, that one he couldn’t get. At all.

He’d dream the same dream anyway.

Rusty didn’t realize when he fell asleep, but he could tell he was dreaming. It was the same thing – he had trained his mind well to dream of whatever he wanted – so he knew the drill. He walked up the stairs, stood in the door for a few moments, and then walked into the room.

Only that, this time, his dream just wanted to play a prank on him. When he snuck into the bed, between Jonathan and Maddox, he realized something was different. He turned his head to look at Jonathan. What the hell? Was he wearing his glasses in bed, now? But no, those weren’t Jonathan’s glasses. Actually, that wasn’t Jonathan at all.

There was no point in freaking out. Rusty calmly turned his head toward Maddox. Then, he looked up. That wasn’t Maddox, either. No, left and right, he was flanked by the boy in glasses from earlier today, and a cat boy. Okay, this dream was getting sexual, after all.

But why a threesome with the boy in glasses and the cat boy? He knew where the cat boy was coming from, but the other dude? This was one weird-ass dream.

All right, he got this. He turned toward the cat boy. “Hey,” he whispered, “can I touch your tail?”

There was no answer. Quite disappointed by that, Rusty turned toward the boy in glasses. He looked really pretty with his eyes closed like that. Why was he wearing glasses in bed? Whatever, weird-ass dream. “Sorry for asking, but why are you here?” he asked.

The boy shifted in his sleep and, as he did that, he threw one arm over Rusty’s belly.

“Are you going for the Mighty Thor?” Rusty asked. Finally, the dream would make some sense.

The boy did nothing. Rusty continued to examine him. Too bad his imagination didn’t have much beyond cute nose, eyes, lips, and glasses. He didn’t remember much else, at least not in his sleeping form. Deciding that he was the one who was supposed to do something after all, Rusty took the boy’s hand and pushed it downward. “Do you mind if I do that?” he asked courteously.

The boy moved again and this time he slapped Rusty by accident. Not hard, but enough to count as a surprise.

“Now that was a bit kinky,” Rusty commented.

The dream boy seemed to have a life of his own, and without opening his eyes, he moved and placed his soft lips on Rusty’s mouth. He tasted nice. Rusty smiled and decided that he could allow himself to be molested in his dream. The stranger had a nice, lithe body that pressed to him hard. Rusty could feel the Mighty Thor getting ready for action.

“It must be the gay,” Rusty commented, not stopping to wonder why he was getting hard over a dude kissing him all of a sudden. A dude who wasn’t either dream Jonathan or dream Maddox, obviously.

“Hey, hey!”

Rusty squirmed, annoyed by the intrusion of another voice into his dream. It couldn’t be the boy in glasses, nor the cat boy. “Go away!” he said sharply.

Whoever it was, he was bent on messing up his sex dream and didn’t stop. Rusty opened his eyes abruptly. Maddox was shaking him and grinned when their eyes met.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Really, dude? I’m saving you!” Maddox replied.

Rusty blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Saving me from what?”

“You were thrashing in your sleep and crying out ‘it must be the gay’,” Maddox explained. His smirk was starting to get a bit annoying.

Rusty pulled a blanket over himself and put on an offended face. “Why did you have to barge into my room like this?”

And stop my dream just when it was getting good.

Maddox laughed and pulled at the blanket. “Seriously, dude? You’re in my room. My bed.”

Rusty looked around. Yeah, something was very wrong. This room was too neat. Just as primly, he threw off the blanket and got to his feet.

He didn’t miss the look of amused and very much fake horror in Maddox’s eyes.

“Why do you have a stiffy, Rusty?” Maddox pointed down between them.

“I don’t have to explain shit,” Rusty declared and walked toward the door as stiffly as his stiffy. He could practically feel his dick swinging to and fro. Then, he remembered that he could do something. He turned, grabbed the blanket and threw it over himself like a cloak. Whatever, as long as he could get out of the room without losing any more face, he’d save his dignity.

“Could it be the gay?” Maddox called out after him.

Rusty flipped the bird at Maddox without a backward look. “Screw you, Maddie.”

He even closed the door without giving Maddox a full-frontal of his stiffy again. Phew, now that had been close or something. Close to what, he had no idea. But what the hell, was he walking in his sleep now?

Or maybe he had just walked into Maddox’s room without thinking twice. Whatever. That could have happened, only that it needed not to happen again. Not because Maddox would ever get mad at him for something like that, but because it would be freaking humiliating to shout in his sleep ‘it must be the gay’ again and be heard by his best friend.

Maddox would just get the wrong idea.

Nah, he wouldn’t. He was a cool guy.

***