“Mr. Manfredi, I can’t find my hat!” A second voice cut across the stage as Hank Alameda, who played Tybalt, hurried across the boards. “Have you seen my—”
But he stopped short as well, gaping at the sight of me spread out naked on the bench, Chad kneeling between my legs.
Chad didn’t even notice. He just kept sucking on the head of my cock, his left hand stroking himself as his right hand moved against my ass, his fingers lodged deep inside me.
I wanted to die, with the eyes of my teacher and fellow student on me, judging me, seeing me for who I was. But I was still so hard, and so close, and I just needed—
A faint wrench sounded across the stage, and suddenly the curtains were going up. A moment later, the stage lights came on, and a second after that, a horrified gasp went up from the audience.
Chad and I were illuminated for all to see. Angry shouts and disgusted words filled the auditorium. I looked out at the audience and came, my body shaking as I released into Chad’s mouth.
My face was on fire. I was mortified. And it felt so, so good. When I could finally move again, I pushed up on my elbows and looked down at Chad. Cum dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. His left hand was shiny and white too, covered in cum from his own cock. I saw the disgusted looks on Mr. Manfredi’s and Hank’s faces, heard the revulsion of the audience.
I opened my mouth to say something, and the auditorium began to fill with a silver mist. It curled in from the back of the stage, through the doors at the far end of the room, and out from underneath the seats. Within ten seconds, I couldn’t see anything.
I closed my eyes, shaking my head against the confusion, and opened them, only to find myself back on the couch in Professor Romero’s rooms. I took a shaky breath, looking around me. Everything was just as I’d left it. The only change was that Romero was leaning forward in his chair, peering at me intently.
“Cory,” he said, relief evident in his face. “You’re back.”
I shook my head, still disoriented. “I’m—yeah. I’m back.”
I slid further upright, taking comfort in the detailed sensations of the fabric beneath my fingers, the faint smell of sandalwood. I was back. It was all just a dream.
But not a dream I’d been able to control. Not a dream I’d been aware of, while I was in it. Fuck.
“Did it work?” I asked Romero, panic rising in me again. I didn’t want to go through another dream like that tonight.
“I think you’re better positioned to answer that than I am,” he said.
“How long was I under?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
“I barely felt like I was asleep at all,” I said slowly.
“What happened, while you were asleep?” Romero asked. “Did you find him? Did you dream?”
I swung my legs off the edge of the couch, coming fully upright. I still felt a little dizzy, like I’d resurfaced from the depths of the ocean. My brain flashed back to the sea of stars. Maybe I had.
I shook my head. “I didn’t find him. I wasn’t even sure how to—fuck. It was all just so different. Nothing like I expected.”
Not that I’d hadanyexpectations for what it would be like, but definitely not that. Strangely beautiful, and terrifying, all at once. And then the dream—
“It’s like I got sucked into a dream,” I said. “I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t get out. It wasn’t him—Geoff. Just some other guy, someone I’d never met before.”
Romero nodded. “I can see how that would be disorienting.”
“You could say that.” I shook my head again. “It was so weird. Once I was in the dream, I had no memory of anything that had come before. I didn’t know why I was there, or what I was supposed to do.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“Is that supposed to happen?” I asked. “Is that how it works?”
“I’m not sure.” Romero pressed his lips together and looked at the ceiling, like he was working through a mental math problem. “I can’t see how that would be helpful, for an incubus not to know they were in someone else’s dream. But everything I know about the subject comes from books. Secondary sources. I just don’t know enough to give you a better answer.”
“I’m not even sure it was his dream,” I said, thinking over the events in more detail. “The guy was new, but the dream felt like something from my past. It was my school’s production ofRomeo and Juliet, but with different actors. And I was as old as I am now. And the guy—at first I didn’t know who he was, but then it was like I’d known him for years, I had all these memories of him, of having a crush and—”
I broke off, my cheeks heating.
