Work Text:
Nick sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he stroked himself.
He allowed his mind to wander, finally settling on one image, heat creeping through his core at the idea of being fucked into the bed by Will.
Wait.
What?
His heart dropped, an icy venom rushing through his veins.
Where had that come from?
Sure, he’d wondered once or twice, out of pure curiosity of course, what it would be like to sleep with a man, but that didn’t mean —
Why had his mind gone straight to Will?
It had to be an intrusive thought or something. There was just no way that a thought like that could pop up organically.
Horrified with himself nonetheless, he redressed himself quickly, deciding to just deal with it . He couldn’t very well pleasure himself with an idea like — like William Shakespeare fucking him.
It was disgusting. It was a sin .
Not only that, but it was just… it was just wrong on so many levels. He hated Will with everything in him. No part of him wanted… that.
Not even a little bit.
Nick was haunted by the thought for days.
How had he come up with such a concept in the first place?
It wouldn’t leave him alone, and it was so hard not to remember it when everyone was always bringing him up.
No one ever stopped talking about how Shakespeare did this, and Shakespeare did that!
Every mention of him was enough to bring that one split second thought to the forefront of his mind again. It was sickening.
It was so, so sickening.
He’d considered going to the church and begging God for forgiveness, but if Brother Jeremiah caught wind of this, it wouldn’t be long before Nick’s entire life was over .
It was fine. He wasn’t a homosexual.
He was just…
Confused.
He wasn’t a homosexual.
And if he wasn’t a homosexual then no one would ever find out, because something couldn’t be found out if it wasn’t something in the first place.
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?
This was stupid.
He was a perfectly normal, straight man.
And Shakespeare was a dick who Nick wouldn’t be interested in even if he was a woman.
Crisis averted! Everything was fine.
Everything was not fine.
Ever since they had started, those disgusting urges were only getting worse.
God, he didn’t know what to do.
It wasn’t natural to want that. It just wasn’t.
He felt like he was going to cry.
But if he started crying then he feared he wouldn’t know how to stop, that all this panic would build up and he would just snap .
He ran his hands through his hair anxiously, trying to distract himself.
There was no reason he needed to be thinking about any of this at all.
He was fine.
He was fine .
“Stop thinking about it,” he told himself quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists, doing his best to just breathe .
His brain just — it wouldn’t stop . The more he pushed those thoughts away, the worse it got.
Will touching him, fucking him, kissing him.
Always Will.
Why always Will?
It shouldn’t have felt good to think about this shit. It didn’t.
It was nauseating is what it was.
Shut up. Shut up .
Think about how good it would feel.
He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t .
If he just didn’t think about it then it wasn’t even a problem.
Yeah.
Because shoving that shit down always worked.
It had been weeks, and Nick officially couldn’t masturbate anymore.
Any time he tried to, all he could picture was stupid fucking William Shakespeare and his stupid fucking attractive face .
He had not just considered Will as attractive.
Gross .
Super incredibly gross.
Those dreams he kept having were more nightmares than dreams. They weren’t pleasurable , they were disgusting .
He wasn’t attracted to Will (or any men at all ), he was just — breathe, stop panicking, everything was going to be fine — he was just… fuck. What was wrong with him?
Was God punishing him for some sin he had committed? Why punish sin with more sin? Where was the logic in that?
Maybe it was the devil preying upon him, planting these unholy urges in his head.
He couldn’t breathe.
Why was this happening to him? Why now? Just why?
He didn’t want to go to hell. He really didn’t.
Deep breaths. Everything was fine. It wasn’t like he’d ever act on these urges.
These feelings were a sin in of themself, but he was going to keep them deep, deep down.
No one would ever know.