Chapter 9: Home Coming

As the exams continued, Thomas saw less of his friend than he had before. Sera seemed to appear only when Thomas was coming out of exams, and then only for a short while. At the end of his last exam, Thomas decided to take a risk and hunt down his companion. He found him, unsurprisingly, in the art rooms.

Sera was a vision in gothic as he moved about the large studio, seeming to stand out against the bland bustle of all the other students. Big black boots that looked as though they could kill a man even when they weren't being worn, black trousers with laces and d-rings up the sides, red straps and thin steel chains looping and hanging all over them, making his clink and rattle while he walked. The shirt looked painted on Sera's dark skin, shimmering cobwebs over him, the darker circles of his nipples showing through and making Thomas' mouth water. Black nail varnish, eyeliner, eye shadow and lipstick. His hair loose and a think collar around his neck. He looked edible. Thomas wondered how he could possibly wear so much on such a sunny day in a hot studio that seemed more like a green house. But Sera moved with the flowing grace that only the truly relaxed can command and stood by his easel. Thomas, just inside the door, could see where the woman sat, naked, in a pose that he had fallen in. Thomas winced to see Sera fingers tracing over the pencil lines of his drawing. It didn't seem fair, that such reverie should belong to a copy of himself. Thomas almost didn't notice as Sera turned, smiled at him and mouthed "My house." A small flash of silver flew through the air and Thomas caught it before it hit the floor. Sera's house key. Thomas left the room before he was spotted.

He didn't have any trouble getting into Sera's, it was a weekday and everyone else who lived in the building was at work. Thomas let himself in, dropped his bag on the floor in the little hall and had a look about. Not a lot had changed from the last time he was there. Thomas flicked through the CD collection, found HIM's Deep Shadows album and put it on while he looked around a little more. When he did really look, he saw that the furniture had been moved and there was a space of blank floor by the window. A folded up easel leant against the wall and Thomas spotted a sheaf of papers next to it. There were the paintings done during that modelling session and another loose pages of sketches to fill a book. They were all of Thomas, stuff going way back to last year, outfits that he recognised that had since left his wardrobe, his shorter haircut. Each was labelled, a date a place, sometimes the time of day and most had titles. In many he was simply referred to as "boy", quite a lot of times as "Angel", and only twice by his name, "Thomas sleeping" and "Thomas in English". The blond boy was more than little freaked out by all this, but also rather flattered, so he brought the easel away from the wall to see what was on it.

A canvas, half finished, that pose of him with the wings and the background. The Perfect Moment. Thomas laid it carefully back against the wall.

"You shouldn't look at those, " Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Sera's voice and he spun around to see the goth standing leaning against the wall behind him. His hand went to the hard shape of the key in his pocket, "I had a copy made," Sera continued, coming forwards and dropping his own key on the coffee table, "That one's yours, keep it."

Thomas's face lit up as Sera spoke but fell as he continued towards him. Under his skintight top, Sera's muscles moved like dark oiled snakes as he approached.

"You weren't supposed to look at that," he didn't sound angry and the almost upset lilt to his voice worried Thomas, "Until it was finished, it was going to be a surprise." Suddenly the blond boy felt a wash of shame colour his cheeks as he hung his head. "You can make it up to me."

Sera moved about the flat it a slow measured sort of manner, unzipping the hidden fastenings on his boots and stepping out of them, releasing each of his wrists in turn from the sudden bands. He straightened and looked at Thomas with dark smouldering eyes. Thomas felt himself harden under his clothes at that look. The taller boy stepped softly on bare feet towards him. He crouched down in front of Thomas and undid the catches on his sandals, light touches to the blond boy's heels coaxed him to step out of them and Sera took the footwear and placed them neatly under the coffee table. He knelt up and drew down the fly of Thomas's jeans with slow movements, peeling away the fabric gently and placed the garment with the shoes. He seemed to avoid touching Thomas's skin, and where he did the touches were all too brief for the smaller boy's liking, as light and gentle as feathers. Thomas shivered as Sera leant forwards and placed a kiss on the tip of his arousal through the material of his boxers.

He stood slowly, his expression almost reverent as hi fingers carefully undid the tiny buttons holding Thomas's shirt closed and slowly, oh so slowly, drew the material off his shoulders. Thomas stood, immobile under the teasing caress and Sera drew the shirt off each arm, taking the time to place a kiss on the underside of each wrist as Thomas shivered. Sera kept his eyes lowered as he threw the cotton aside with care as to where it landed, and dropped a kiss to Thomas's navel. The other boy moaned as that agile tongue explored the sensitive skin before pulling back. Sera's slim fingers touched him through his underwear as he stood there on shaking legs. He couldn't speak, just the gentle music and his own too loud breaths in the room. The Latino boy stopped touching him and pulled away his boxers, laying them with the rest of his clothes. Thomas felt highly exposed as he stood there under Sera's hooded gaze. He watched, almost alarmed as Sera's slim fingers undid the thick collar from his neck and placed it around his own. He kissed the skin before buckling the leather tight about his throat. Not too tight, but comfortable around Thomas's slim neck. Thomas shivered as the plain leather and steel closed about him. Never really inclined toward the gothic side of things, Thomas had never worn a collar before and it felt like being owned. More so as Sera took from the pockets of his jeans two thin plain wristbands that he buckled silently around each of Thomas's narrow wrists. He drew the tip of his tongue along the boy's palm.