He yawned as he glanced at the clock on the wall; it was 4:30 in the morning, his cup of coffee was empty and the household was asleep, he could not help but curse all-nighters, and homework. It was at times like this, when he had to stay up all night, drink ten cups of coffee, constantly use the toilet, and think at four in the morning that made him despise having honor classes.
George wrote the last sentence down and with a grin, slammed his notebook shut, heck yeah, done! He congratulated himself. It was now 4:45, school started at 7:30, and he needed to leave at 6:20 if he wanted to make it on time in his bike. He decided he would get some shuteye for an hour at least and changed his alarm to 6:15. He organized his book back, changed into his uniform, and got in bed, making sure he was in an uncomfortable position so the alarm would actually wake him up.
George was in front of his AP US history class giving some speech. He could not make out about what. He got a view of the class and they were all teasing him for being a smartass, specially the day before when they were playing a review game and he got half of the points. It was really a joy to think about that, since he had studied for hours and his teacher had congratulated him. The teacher was walking around the room, god knows for what reason, as he continued to speak to the class and as they continued to tease him, in a playful friendly way, he noted.
As the teacher got closer to the front of the room, George fell to the floor. The students were circling around him and the teacher was asking for some room as he tried to break a path and get to George on the floor. He knelt down in front of George and he had a feeling that he was telling the students he had fainted, but George knew quite well he was fine, he could feel he was conscious. George’s eyes were open and he saw as the older man took a deep breath and dipped down, apparently trying to give him CPR.
George’s eyes widened as he noted that he was not receiving any air whatsoever, and that his teachers lips were on his far longer than deemed necessary. The man back off as he took another deep breath, apparently trying to convinced the students that he was actually doing CPR, and their eyes locked and Georges’ were asking him what he was doing, but he couldn’t read the others’ head. As his teacher dipped his head down again, George couldn’t help but think how real it all felt, his lips, the scene, the feelings. Everything was so true. My goodness what type of dream was this? His eyes roamed around and he caught the students watching from behind the teachers back, concerned as to what was happening. He felt the pressure of his teacher’s lips on his, how sensual, strong, and arousing they were and felt. Their eyes were now locked and George knew now that it was impossible to say that he was giving him mouth to mouth, their mouths had been locked far too long; it was now kissing. Their lips we unmoving, but the pressure! The pressure felt so real!! Was he unconsciously pressing his hand to his mouth or something! He felt himself smiling…
Jumping up from the bed, he quickly turned off the alarm. He scoffed as he felt his heart beat. He was smiling. My goodness, he was smiling! What bizarre the dream was. Specially how real it all felt. He grabbed his book back in a dash, grabbed his bike lock, his helmet, and grabbed his bike. He couldn’t help but re-run the scenes in his brain. Ad each time he picture himself kissing his teacher, he couldn’t help the smile that came to his feature.
He wasn’t going to deny the fact that his history teacher was hot, well at least to him because apparently the girls were attracted to the other history teacher, which he admitted as well was good looking, but not as alluring as his own. Why was he attracted to the man? Was it because of his history knowledge? George loved history, and his teacher was a great history teacher. Was it knowledge that attracted him to him? Or was it because of that psychological crap about a father figure? He had grown up without a father, he had not seen him since he and his mom had moved and left his dad. Was it that he was attracted to the older male because of that? Well now that he thought about it, it sort of made sense if that was the actual reason. If he really thought about it.
“Who are you thinking about?” Paul questioned him as they changed for swimming.
“What are you talking about? I could be thinking about something you know,” George played innocent.
“You know, I know something happened, spill the beans.” Paul questioned him again as they entered the pool.
“I’ll tell you at lunch.” George smiled as the dream clouded his head. Swimming would do him good.
“Hahahaha! No way! Seriously?!” Paul laughed once George had finished retelling Paul every detail of his peculiar dream.
“See! This is why I didn’t want to tell you!” George was still smiling.
“Ohhh!” Paul mocked, “Someone has a little teacher crush!” he playfully poked him.
“Oh shut it!” George laughed and ensued a poking war. “But why him?”
“Don’t know, he isn’t very attractive. Its sick actually, a teacher student thing, well that’s my opinion. You probably spend too much time talking to him after class, being his only A in the class and all, the one who participates and shouts the most, don’t know.”
“You know what makes this weirder? Yesterday Patty broke up with me, and all of a sudden I have this weird dream about my favorite teacher, and not just any dream, a dream about kissing him. I have ever dreamt of kissing any other person except Patty. Until now that is.”
“You think it’s some sort of sign?” Paul looked ahead.
George shrugged his shoulder.
Paul sighed, “Well let me tell you Geo, the man is married, with children.”
George looked down. “I know I know, by the way, is that a show?”
“You know, you have to control this teacher crush of yours,” Paul hissed at George.
“What do you mean? I always call him out when I see him in the hallways; wouldn’t it be weirder to just all of a sudden stop that habit?” George responded.
“I asked my friends about dreaming of other people and what that meant,” Paul said as they met in the hallway.
“Oh gosh,” George looked a little terrified, “you didn’t tell anyone did you?”
“No no, don’t worry, I made up a little different story. But anyway, the girls said that if you dream of someone, it means they are thinking about you too.” Paul wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh shut it,” George rolled his eyes with a smirk as they walked to their next period.
Paul poked him at his side, “His class is next,” he moved his eyebrows suggestedly as they entered the room.
“Want to make it a little more obvious you idiot?” George hissed at him as he walked to the front of the room to his seat.
“How are you today George?” his teacher asked with that attractive ignorant smile of his and his English accent as he set up the projector.
George grinned as his thoughts returned to his dream. It was all so real. The kiss. the room was the same. The same students. The same attractive teacher. That same face!
George shrugged with a smirk, “Eh, could have gone better Mr. Lennon, how are you?”
If you guys were wondering about the dream, yes, it is an actual dream. The dream happened exactly like how I dreamt it. The scenes with Paul are slightly different that what I did, but the conversations are slightly the same. I know, I’m a sicko or something, but I can’t really control my mind now can it?
p.s. by the way, does anyone, by any chance, know why I dreamt this? are there any websites or psychological theories about this?
hope you enjoyed the story. By the way, John and George are one of my favorite Beatles couple, reason why I chose them for this story.
And if for some reason you want to be my friend, just add me, I'll add back.
- Current Location:United States, Ottawa
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- Current Mood: cranky