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Any other dream would have been better than this. Perhaps a dream where his test subject made only a cameo that he could bring up if the situation ever asked for a silly anecdote. Heck, even dreaming of the Wisconsinian on top of him, the two of them going at it like hormone-riddled teenagers, would have been better. It definitely would have been weird and unwanted, but at least he could have blamed it on sexual frustration and went on with his life.
But no.
This was worse.
The dream started as a nightmare. About what, Dr. Forrester wasn’t sure. But he remembered waking up scared only to calm down just a little once he saw Mike, lying next to him, almost looking concerned.
“Bad dream?”
Forrester didn’t remember what he said, but he knew it was followed by a tight hug and a kiss on the nose. He could feel his fears fleeting. Right. This was his life. Everything was as it should be.
“You know you shouldn’t stay up so late.” Mike laughed.
Dr. Forrester couldn’t help but smile too. He knew Mike was right. He knew his work could get in the way of their relationship. Not just that, but it was terrible for his health too.
Maybe he’d get his mind off whatever bad dream he’d had with a quick breakfast. Just some fruit. As if Mike already knew what he was thinking, he tossed an orange Forrester’s way. Unfortunately, the mad scientist was not quick enough to catch it, getting hit in the fact and falling to the floor.
“Are you okay?” Mike rushed over to lend Forrester a hand, but he was having a rough time getting back up. Almost like the intense gravity of getting hit in the face with citrus was holding him down. “You should probably lie down.”
And with that, Mike picked up the evil scientist, and laid him on the couch, wrapping him in a nearby blanket. Mike wouldn’t stop apologizing about the orange, and was rather adamant about making him a big breakfast to make it up to him. Forrester wasn’t really in much pain at all (in hindsight, he should have known it was a dream at that point), but he wasn’t going to stop Mike from spoiling him.
After what only seemed like a minute or two, Mike came back with a tower of pancakes. “Here you go, honey.”
Dr. F wasn’t planning on having a big breakfast, but with this buffet set out in front of him, how could he say no?
It was as he was eating in the dream that Dr. Forrester awoke slowly, then all at once, once it hit him how WRONG that dream was. Even worse, he couldn’t get Mike out of his head! That warm smile, those strong comfy arms, those pancakes. URGH! Today was going to be insufferable! And it was movie day too. Oh he’d pick out a truly terrible movie this week! That’d show him!
Calling Mike that day to tell him about the film he’d be watching was almost painful. Dr. Forrester was certainly acting normal, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying as he described the movie, a bit too distracted by this lousy corn boy’s face. Mike had the same ridiculous face he always had, but Dr. Forrester couldn’t help but find it cute. Maybe even somewhat caring. Oh, what was he even thinking?
His thoughts of Mike were (fortunately) stifled by a yawn.
“Didn’t get any sleep or something?” One of Mike’s little tin cans asked.
“Well if you must know,” Forrester began to explain, “I woke up pretty early this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“Oh,” Mike nodded in understanding. “Bad dream?”
Forrester’s hand immediately went to cover his mouth. It would have been fine if Mike hadn’t have said it with the exact same inflection he did in his dream. But he did, and now Forrester’s face was going red, and all sorts of domestic memories that he was trying his darndest to ignore were flooding back into him.
Thankfully Frank broke the silence. “Sir, you woke up at noon!”
Dr. Forrester chose to ignore him, so instead Mike spoke. “Noon? Dr. Forrester, you know you shouldn’t stay up so late.”
There it was again. Dr. Forrester could feel his heart pounding, butterflies in his stomach, thinking about how much this man cared for him and likewise. Except they didn’t care for each other at all; it was all just a really weird dream that shouldn’t have happened! Forrester leaned over the control panel, taking deep breaths in some desperate attempt to calm himself down.
But Mike Nelson just had to say something else didn’t he?
“Are you okay? You should probably lie down.”
And once he’d gotten it under control, Dr. Forrester’s heart was beating out of his chest again. Part of him wanted to run away, and another part desperately wanted to confess his love, which wasn’t really love but some weird infatuation the result of an odd dream at most.
“It’s fine,” Dr. Forrester breathed out, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “Just, a little heartburn. Frank get me my TUMS.”
Frank ran off and Dr. Forrester pressed a button giving Mike and the bots movie sign, leaving him by himself to catch his breath.
But even that was only for a couple minutes before Frank came back with the TUMS.
“Here you go, honey.”
And Dr. Forrester immediately downed half the bottle.