Practice Practice Practice

Martin was dreaming.

A sea of student faces stretched out ahead of him in an impossibly large crowd. They were graduating, or at prom, or some mix of the two. There was music and shifting lights, and everyone wore tuxedos and dresses or grad gowns and hats.

Martin was speaking, giving his valedictorian speech. He couldn't hear the words he was saying, but he felt like they were connecting with the crowd. Faces laughed and smiled. He felt the wood of the podium beneath his hands and the rapt attention of the crowd as they ate up every word. He felt full, empowered.

The wood softened. The flat surface became curved. His fingers slid higher and he felt the contour of rib bones under skin. It was Tommy. His naked body, lying beneath him, wrapped around him. They were laying together in Martin's bed, and Martin gripped Tommy's hips as he felt his cock throb inside his warm hole. He thrust. Tommy's head rolled back, a satisfied grin on his face.

But the crowd was still there.

Martin's heart beat faster, the adrenaline of fear and shock spreading through him, but he couldn't stop. He fucked Tommy harder. It felt too good, too warm and tight. His horror at the crowd watching them, their naked bodies on display, boiled up inside him, burned him, gripped his heart like a vice and he felt like he was having a heart attack. Sweat broke out over his skin. He was naked in front of everyone, but he couldn't stop fucking. He thrust so hard that all he could hear were the wet claps of their naked bodies colliding again and again. Applause. Tommy pulled him closer and whispered, "I like it when you cum inside me."

Martin woke up.

Sweat and moisture. The tangled sheets around him were hot, clammy, pulled tight around his mostly-naked body. He slept in a pair of boxer briefs, which felt damp, sticky with cum.

The light through his blinds was a cold pre-dawn blue, and the clock told him it was too early to be awake, but the feeling of losing control, the panic of being seen, still raced through his heart and he knew he wasn't getting back to sleep.

He slipped off his underwear and used it to mop up the sticky residue of the wet dream as he pushed the blankets aside to breathe. The air was cool, and it dried the sweat on his skin. He dropped his sticky underwear on the floor and stared up at the ceiling.

The details of the dream were already fading away, but the intense feelings lingered. It was panic and passion. He had wanted to get away, to hide, to escape everyone's gaze, but he'd been locked in place. He could almost feel Tommy's muscles still clenched around him, legs wrapped around his back, pulling him deeper.

Martin's hand went to his cock. It was thick and warm as he squeezed it, testing his arousal. Immediately he felt his blood pump. He moaned involuntarily as he wrapped his fingers tighter and rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow and his cock into the palm of his hand.

He spread his knees to feel the cool air on his hole. With one hand around his cock and the other gripping his pillow, Martin tried to conjure up Elizabeth's face as he fucked his hand, but all he could see was Tommy's smooth chest, his shaved cock, his blue eyes. In just a few strokes he was close. He bit down on his pillow and came, spilling across his wrist and bedsheets as he shivered and fucked. And then he punched the mattress in frustration. Something was wrong with him.

Friday mornings started with Math, and Tommy was already in his seat when Martin walked into class. He was halfway down the second line of desks wearing a thin purple t-shirt with a deep v-neck. It hung loose revealing his hairless chest as he hunched over his desk, doodling in his notebook. Tommy looked up and grinned when he saw him, but Martin kept to a tight-lipped smile as he walked past and sat behind him.

Tommy twisted around, his hands holding the back of his plastic chair, as he leaned in to whisper, excited, "I've got a great place to go at lunch. Coach gave me the key to the equipment room to set up some wrestling mats before class."

"So?"

"So I figured we could sneak in there right after English and we'd have an hour to practice with no one around."

"What about the girls?"

Tommy shrugged, "We can explain it later. Just say we were in the library studying or we went to the mall for lunch."

"We can't keep ditching them, you know. It kinda defeats the whole point of practicing if they dump us."

"Yeah, I know," he said. His smile faded. "I just thought it would be fun, like yesterday."

"It's not supposed to be fun!" Martin let his voice get too loud and he knew some people heard them. Anything else they said now would end up in the hallways after class and there would be no stopping it getting to Elizabeth or Rebecca.

Martin chose his words carefully, "I just don't know if we're on the same page about this. I'm--"

Martin was cut off by Mr. Joseph's booming voice over the chatter, "Alright, that's enough, let's get started." Tommy gave him a weak smile, but as he turned back to face the front, for the first time in a long time, Martin wasn't sure if they were in sync.

Between Math and English there were a lot of awkward silences. They didn't return to finish the conversation, but they didn't start a new one either. What remained unsaid hung between them and it seemed like neither of them was eager to see where it was going. They passed Rebecca in the hall and she tried to pull Tommy towards her but he moved by with a quick kiss and a line about needing to get to his locker before class. Then they walked straight to English and sat down in their usual seats next to each other in silence.

Their teacher, Ms. Williams was an eccentric, wiry lady with short brown hair who danced her way slowly from one side of the room to the other as she explained the readings. Most of the students liked her.

For weeks they had been studying Hamlet and were finally at the last scene. Chris and Maria were playing the parts of Horatio and Hamlet, awkwardly reading their parts at the front of the class as the two characters prepared for the final confrontation.

"If it be now, 'tis not to come. If it be cum--" someone giggled at the back as Chris corrected, "not to come, it will be now." Chris struggled to get through his last line and the tension in the class was palpable. As they had gone through the whole play, each taking on different parts for pages at a time, they had found out who were the good readers and who struggled. Chris struggled.

He'd barely got through the last syllable before Ms. Williams was applauding their performance and ushering them back to their seats with shining compliments, "Well done! Now let's get a new Hamlet up here. Martin! Want to bring this one home for the finale?"

Martin felt a jolt of anxiety cut through him, but it was only a few more weeks until he'd be giving the valedictorian speech and he needed every chance to practice public speaking. Also, he knew he didn't really have a choice. He carried his paperback to the front of the room and stood awkwardly next to Ms. Williams as she looked around the class to cast her finale.

"Dan, let's have you play the King, and Shivali can be the Queen. Chrissy can keep playing Osric, it's just a few more lines, dear. And then we need a Laertes... Tommy!"

Tommy slid out from behind his desk and stepped up to the front. He stood beside Shivali, but Ms. Williams nudged him over to stand beside Martin and put Dan behind them both.

She clapped her hands, "Wonderful! So, the King brings Laertes and Hamlet together before their duel and Hamlet takes this last opportunity to apologise to Laertes for killing his dad. And... action!"

Ms. Williams stepped back and there was a pause before Dan realized it was his line first, "Oh, right. Uh, Come, Hamlet, come and take this hand from me!" And then he asked, "What am I doing with my hand?"

"You give him Laertes' hand."

"Oh, kay," said Dan and he picked up Tommy's left hand and Martin's right and put them together. "I now pronounce you man and wife," he said. The class giggled.

Martin felt his skin heat up. Did Dan know something or was he just fucking around? Suddenly the memory of his dream boiled up and it felt like everyone knew. Somehow they had all seen the way they were with each other, or maybe someone had seen them sneaking off to the bathroom on Monday? Were rumours spreading about them?

Then Tommy squeezed his fingers. He looked up. Tommy smiled, and the noise in his mind settled.

"Give me your pardon, sir," said Martin, reading his lines, "I have done you wrong."

Martin's heart leapt in his chest. He glanced over at Ms. Williams, who grinned and nodded for him to continue. He looked back at Tommy and he could see the recognition in his eyes. They both knew there could be a double meaning in the words, but the rest of the class was oblivious. Martin continued, "Pardon it as you are a gentleman. This presence knows, and you must have heard, how I am punished with a sore distraction."

He looked up again. Tommy's brow was furrowed and he chewed his lip. Was it just a distraction? Or was there something more to all the practice for Tommy?

Martin continued, "What I have done that might your nature, honor, and exception roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness."

Tommy's hand slipped out of Martin's and in that moment Martin knew Tommy had seen his thoughts on his face. It had gotten out of hand, the practicing. It was like madness. They were horny and impulsive and let the feelings override what they actually knew, which was that they were straight. They had girlfriends. And straight guys with girlfriends shouldn't fuck.

Tommy wouldn't meet his eyes again. He focused on the pages in front of him as they struggled through the rest of the scene.

Shivali had the honor of the first death and she played up the drama to eleven, stumbling over to the window and laying down behind the last row of desks so she could pull out her phone. Ms. Williams clapped, and then Dan tried to outdo her when Martin forced him to drink poison. He convulsed and stumbled theatrically over to the middle of the room and 'died' in the aisle, conveniently angled where he could watch Katie Eastman's legs.

Tommy went next with a short speech, which he gave with his face in his book although his character was addressing Martin's, and then as he succumbed to the poison and sat on the floor.

Finally they made it to Martin's last line, "the rest is silence," and he sat down next to Tommy. Their knees briefly knocked together but Tommy shifted to hold his legs between his arms as he continued following along with the text.

As the play ended, Ms. Williams applauded loudly and cheered. The class politely clapped for a moment and then everyone settled back in their desks.

For the rest of the lecture Martin found himself staring at the back of Tommy's head. He tried to imagine what he was thinking. He must have realized things were getting out of hand, right? It was supposed to be practice for the girls, just a way to get used to some of the feelings and help each other prepare for what they really wanted, but they had let it take over their spare time. It wasn't supposed to be something they wanted to sneak off and do during lunch.

Why did Tommy get the key to the equipment room? When has the Coach ever asked someone to set up mats before class?

As soon as class ended Tommy got out of his seat and headed for the door. Martin had to bundle his books quickly into his arms to catch up.

In the hall he caught Tommy's shoulder and turned him around.

"Oh, hey," said Tommy casually.

"Where are you going?"

Tommy shrugged, "I was going to get food and then get the keys back to Coach. I figured you didn't want to use the equipment room."

"Well, we usually eat lunch with the girls."

"Yeah, I know." Tommy nodded and he adjusted the backpack strap over his shoulder as he started to step away. "It's fine, like you said, you shouldn't keep ditching Elizabeth. She wants to spend time with you. So, yeah, I'll see you around."

He disappeared into the river of bodies heading for the main hall and left Martin standing alone.