I saw them. Not much of a story. Window was open halfways, air and noise seeped in; tiny gusts of warm wind were slowly, with a lag, reaching Thom's head and ruffling his drying hair. His shirt rolled up a little, if he knew he'd feel the tickly touch of carpet's fur against the skin right below his navel. He didn't notice, sprawled on the floor, barefoot, head propped on his left hand. Biting on a pen. The sun went through window frame and set dazzling lines across the pages of the notebook, the angly drawings, the words. He squinted a little, and long eyelash shadows stirred on his cheeks.
Turning the page, he wrote four uneven lines, the birds I've seen, the word 'birds' there on the page. Lips pouty, eyes now closed, he nodded very slightly to himself, a barely perceptible rhythm. Footsteps accidentally fit in, - he didn't know until a shadow cut the sunlight. Shadow said a quiet hallo and folded itself onto the carpet in front of Thom.
'Hi', he muttered, and wrote more words. The shadow brushed hair from its face and sat quietly. Time ticked until Thom saw Jonny's hand cover the leaf. 'Hi', he said again, half sniffled - half smiled and pushed the hand away. No. 'Thom', both hands over paper now. He took one with his, turned it over like a page, and, chuckling quietly, started to write on Jonny's palm. STARS, - ink didn't quite catch onto skin, and STARS was traced twice, ticklish. Thom started a new word, two letters in mumbled 'bugger' and rubbed the captive submissive palm to erase them. They wouldn't, and impatient, he licked his finger and tried again. Jonny remained quiet; smiled as hair fell back over his eyes. 'I'll go', he said, as a half-question, and right then caught a slightly uneven flash of blue. Thom lowered his eyes again, said a suddenly serious 'wait', and:
(I didn't know they would.)
Time got slow, dust particles suspended motionless in the sun. Another weak gust of wind lazily got to Thom's hair and swept over unnoticed. Thom got up (Jonny didn't move an inch, quiet behind his curtain of hair), the hem of his shirt fell where it should be, covering the strip of milky skin. Standing on his knees, he took Jonny's defenseless - palm up - hand in his two, drew his face closer; what happened then was a kiss. Or not quite - Thom just moved his half-opened lips over the thin skin of Jonny's inner wrist.
Particles hung where they stopped, Thom's breath was warm and lips soft and just a little moist over Jonny's wrist. Jonny froze. Like an animal in a trap, as if thinking that he'd be released if he would only not move and be quiet. As if helplessly waiting for Thom to bite his veins open. Thom looked up; Jonny's eyes were shut; but the lips - those betrayed him, with not quite half a smile, with just something in the curve of the mouth that read:
He liked it.
Still holding his hand, Thom ever so cautiously drew closer, not afraid to look, not having to meet Jonny's gaze. Strands of dark hair on his face: Thom gently brushed them aside, and Jonny saw the red light of sun shining on his closed eyelids. As the light was obscured, two more soft kisses pressed lightly on each. Jonny remained motionless in disbelief, only bending his neck backwards a slight bit.
Three seconds crawled over them, a whiff of eternity, until the new kiss; lips to lips, Thom playing a boy's part, sucking on the edge of Jonny's lower lip gently, and only waiting another five seconds to slip the tip of his tongue in between. A little shudder, a wave rolled over Jonny's body as he surrendered. It wasn't quite his make-believe game anymore, or else they were both trapped in a dream now.
Jonny stirred and, moving closer, got a hold of Thom's belt, fingers halfway in, the softness of Thom's belly against his knuckles. Their lips parted ways, and Jonny moved downward, softly kissing Thom's ear, neck and finally the defenselessly white, warm patch of skin right below his adam's apple. Thom's breathing got faster; with the next kiss he softly moaned, exhaling, and clammed his lower lip as if to silence himself. Jonny, the whole surface of his skin electrified, ran his both hands over Thom's body under the shirt. A chemical reaction - Thom radiated waves of warmth in response to his touch.
All was done in silence, until Thom moaned again, slightly arching his spine backwards, and, stroking the nape of Jonny's neck - tender and warm too - drew him suddenly, forcefully, closer. 'I don't want it', I think I heard it right, 'I don't want this', Jonny said under his breath. 'Don't lie', that came from Thom, matter-of-factly, almost cynically, as he undid the upper button of Jonny's shirt.
To be continued?