Sight of Stars - Extended - 2. Chapter 2

~A short story in the "Sight of Stars" universe
*~*~*

Few things were as fickle as memories. Solid one moment, ephemeral the next, they taunted Thomas. He recalled that his childhood bedroom had been light blue and his quilted bedspread a forest green with black diamonds, but he couldn't bring to mind the exact shade of his mother's hair. He couldn't picture his father's face, but could conjure his cold, cruel words with a clarity that made his heart seize.

He hadn't known much gentleness, but what he had he remembered in detail, an amalgam of touch and smell and taste.

Before Seth, the last person to touch him affectionately had been Oscar, who'd engulfed him in a brief, sympathetic hug after Thomas' last trip to the ophthalmologist. Before Oscar, it had been a girl. A student who had come to the shop to buy books. Her name escaped him, but her touch he remembered.

"You've really forgotten her name?" Seth asked.

Thomas tipped his face against Seth's shoulder. The book lay on the table, abandoned. They'd managed less than one chapter before Seth had tossed it aside, climbed across the cushions, and slid cool fingers under the hem of Thomas' shirt. "Slide down," he'd said and wedged himself against the back of the sofa so they were lying chest to chest.

"Um," Thomas hedged. "Mindy? I think that was it." He shivered when Seth chuckled in his ear.

"That memorable, huh?"

"She was nice." She had been, and he'd been excited by that. Aroused. Pleased to have been wanted. "But she was too…"

"Forward?"

Thomas nuzzled into the crook of Seth's neck. "I like forward."

"I wish you'd said something a bit sooner," Seth said with a hint of complaint.

That made two of them. "Anyway—" Thomas started when Seth's hand crept from his waist to his hip, then over his thigh. He blew out a shaky breath. "Do you want to hear this or what?"

"Yes," Seth said, too amused for Thomas' taste.

"All right." Thomas worked one of his legs between Seth's (the best offense and all) and cast about for the right words. "She, um …"

Seth's lips grazed his earlobe. "Spit it out, Tommy."

Okay. "She felt wrong. And…smelled wrong." He winced. "God, that sounds horrible, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't." Seth's thumb smoothed a line from his forehead. "Tell me more."

"There isn't much more." His cheeks went warm.

"Hmmm." Seth trailed his fingers across Thomas' cheek, then sifted through the hair that lay across this brow. He didn't speak, he didn't push.

"Okay." Thomas braced himself. "Okay. Here's what happened. I was helping Oscar at the counter one day and she came in."

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen." Just two years ago, he realized. It felt more like a decade. "I'd just moved in and was still getting used to things. I was jumpy all the time back then."

Seth squeezed him harder. "Why?"

"Uh…that's another story. Kind of long."

"Hmmm," Seth said again, his tone frostier than before. His shoulders bunched and his fingers twitched along Thomas' spine.

"She was just like any other customer at first. But when she found out about, you know, my eyes, that all changed. She got super friendly all of a sudden."

"How nice," Seth said under his breath, in a tone that implied he thought it anything but.

Strangely, the indignation boosted Thomas' bravery. He wriggled in Seth's tight hold until his hands were free to do their own wandering. Seth sucked in a breath when Thomas ran the pad of his thumb over his lips. "I know what you're thinking. And you're right. I guess I'll never know why for sure, but it was my…handicap that she liked. Not me."

"Did you figure that out right away?"

Thomas remembered the surge of hope when she'd asked if she could see him again. "No."

Seth's jaw worked methodically back and forth under Thomas' thumb. "I think maybe I've heard enough."

"You're the one who got me started, so now you have to endure to the end." Thomas made a loose fist and nudged Seth's chin. "Besides, you'll like this next part." The fire cracked, and he turned to watch it spark a bright white before fading into a rainbow of grays. "I think she was waiting for me to make the first move, which was never going to happen."

"Really?"

Thomas punched his shoulder. "I'll spare you the details, but I was totally into the idea of being with her. I was. Until she climbed into my lap. Then," he shook his head, "she was wearing this perfume. I mean, it was thick. Like she'd rolled in it." He made a face, and Seth shook them both when he laughed. "I tried touching her, but it wasn't making me…you know. I was completely turned off. I just wanted away from her." He cleared his throat. "I was maybe a bit too emphatic about that."

"Oh?"

"She landed on the floor. We both did."

He didn't need perfect eyesight to know Seth was grinning. "Poor thing. How'd she take that?"

"Could you sound a little less gleeful?"

"I doubt it. So?"

Thomas ducked his head, cheeks burning. "So then she grabbed me."

"She grabbed you?" Seth asked with a bark of laughter. "Like this?" Fingertips grazed the fly of his jeans.

Thomas twisted away from Seth's seeking hand. "If you want to hear the end of the story, then stop."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to throw you off."

"Fair enough." Seth resettled against the cushions, positioning Thomas between his legs. "But I'm jealous."

The possessive growl made Thomas rush through his next words in a single breath. "So she got all offended that I wasn't, you know…"

"Hard."

"…and left in a hurry. Now can we—?"

Seth's hands clamped down on Thomas' arms when he started to squirm. "Did she say anything else?"

"Um." Thomas pondered. "She said, 'Why didn't you tell me you were gay?'"

Seth tilted Thomas' head up and back, and even though he couldn't see it, Thomas felt his intense stare. "Why didn't you, come to think of it?"

Thomas blinked, then answered honestly. "I didn't know I was."

"And now you do?"

Thomas slithered lower and rolled onto his stomach, smiling when Seth's arms settled over his shoulders, heavy, possessive. An inch at a time, he pushed Seth's t-shirt up over his belly, then found his navel. "I didn't figure it out overnight, but what she said, it got me thinking." He ran his tongue along the edge of the dimpled skin. Seth's stomach muscles rippled and tensed, and he arched up for more. Thomas obliged. "I couldn't solve anything by looking, so I tested myself in other ways. With customers, usually. How they sounded, how they smelled. How their skin felt when we shook hands. How a strong grip felt different than a softer one. Once I started to pay attention, the pieces came together. So to speak."

"That was very scientific of you," Seth said gruffly. He yanked at Thomas' shirt until it was twisted around his neck and his back was bared to Seth's roving hands. "So who was the lucky guy?"

Thomas felt out each of Seth's ribs with his fingers before tracing them with his tongue. By the time he'd reached the third, Seth was groaning on every exhale. "The lucky guy?" Thomas echoed, breathless and distracted.

"Yeah. The…fuck, Tommy." Growling, Seth plunged his hands between them and clawed at the zipper on his own jeans. "The damn lucky bastard who got to you first." He cursed when the metal teeth jammed.

Thomas laughed and lifted himself onto his elbows. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." Seth leveled another curse at his uncooperative zipper, then dropped back, defeated. "I'm pretty sure I hate his guts."

Thomas smiled, eyes wide and trained on Seth's bright silhouette. "There hasn't been anybody else." His smile slipped when Seth stiffened. "Just Mindy and now…you." His voice trailed off at the last word. But for his shallow, stilted breath, Seth had gone statue still. Fearful, Thomas followed suit. The fire danced in the grate, the only movement in the room for several seconds, then Seth sighed. He freed his hands from between them and lightly grasped Thomas' biceps.

Dismay surged in Thomas' chest, clogging his throat. "Have I ruined things?"

"What? No." Seth clambered off the sofa, dragging Thomas with him. "But I almost did." Seth embraced him, and Thomas' flagging arousal reversed course at his next words. "So where's this apartment of yours?"

*~*~*

He hadn't thought about the state of his apartment in months, but with Seth's arm curved around his waist and his sturdy presence hovering at his back, Thomas suffered a flicker of insecurity. He curled his hand around the knob, but didn't open the door.

Seth nipped his neck. "A bit of laundry on the floor and dishes in the sink isn't going to scare me."

"I'm not a slob," Thomas shot back, smirking. "But I can't remember the last time I turned the lights on. I hope they still work."

"Me too. Not to be indelicate, but I want to look at you." He paused. "Is that okay?"

"It's okay." Still, it made him blush. "But why?" Thomas took his hand off the knob and turned. "I have some memory of what I looked like when I was a kid, just so you know. I wasn't exactly cute."

"I have no idea what you looked like when you were a kid, but I might argue the cute thing strictly on principle. You were ten when you lost your sight, right?" Seth crowded him against the door. "I’m pretty sure you wouldn't recognize yourself these days. Just so you know," he gave Thomas a quick, hard kiss, "I think you're gorgeous." He paused. "Has someone told you you're a hideous monster or something?" His teasing tone carried a hint of censure.

"Well…"

"Really?" Every hint of humor vanished. "Who?"

"It's more what they don't say. People aren't comfortable around me."

"I see." Seth must have snuck a hand behind and found the knob, because the door flew open. Thrown off balance, they stumbled over the threshold together. Thomas scrambled for the wall switch, but Seth found it first. The shadows lightened.

"Still pretty dim," Seth remarked. "Your eyes really are sensitive."

"Yeah." Thomas kicked the door closed, then did something he almost never did. He flipped the lock. "Do you need more light?" To see me, he almost added, then didn't.

"It's plenty for what I have in mind," Seth said mildly. "Can we skip the part where we sit on the couch for an hour?"

"Yes." He took Seth by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

Oscar had offered him the apartment furnished, and Thomas had honestly never given a thought to how it looked. Function was what interested him. The layout was simple, the space small. Perfect. Now, he found himself worrying if the furniture was tattered, the carpet stained, and the walls drab. "I've never seen this place, obviously," he said as he guided Seth through his bedroom door. "Is it horrible?"

"No idea." Their knees hit the bed, and Seth pulled Thomas' shirt over his head with one yank. "Critiquing your décor isn't at the top of my list at the moment. Okay?"

"Okay."

Goose bumps erupted on Thomas' arms, and a flush tingled across his chest. A few inches away, Seth stood, breathing raggedly. Watching. "Look at you," he whispered, and the heat that had been creeping leisurely through Thomas' body arrowed down his stomach and through his groin. Seth reached to touch, tracing Thomas' collarbone before dipping lower. His fingers shook. Thomas folded them in his own and guided them to the top button of his jeans.

"Please."

Seth's breath left him in a rush. "It's not a race."

"Says who?" They battled in silence, Seth resisting and Thomas holding his fingers tight. Desperate, Thomas slid closer and maneuvered their joined hands over his cock.

Seth's head fell forward on a groan. "Christ, you win." He shook Thomas' hand off and reached for the row of buttons. They gave with ease, but still Seth took his time, the bastard, peeling back the material slowly, like he was unwrapping a gift. For once, poorly-tailored clothing worked to Thomas' advantage. Loose to begin with, his jeans slipped down his thighs before Seth had worked even two buttons through their holes. His bid for a lengthy seduction apparently forgotten, Seth cupped his palms over Thomas' ass and pulled him in. They crashed together, but Thomas had less than a moment to appreciate the hard press of flesh against his own before Seth kissed him.

They'd kissed before, many times, but always with a measure of restraint. That had been wearing thin recently, and several nights this past week, Seth had brought Thomas right to the edge and balanced him there, just by kissing him with a greedy fierceness. Thinking about it tipped Thomas toward the inevitable, and he turned away with a moan. Breaking contact with a gentle push had become their signal – too much, too close – but tonight Seth ignored the implied warning and followed with a growl, deigning to separate one hand from Thomas' ass to angle his mouth back to his own. "Wait." Thomas struggled free, panting. "Wait!"

"Now you say wait," Seth said, but he laughed. "How do you want it then?"

Thomas wasn't even sure. A bit more of everything if you don't mind would probably end things before either of them were ready. He turned the tables. "How do you want it?"

"So I get to decide?"

Thomas nodded, shivering at the gruff tone. Seth's t-shirt was balled in his fists, and he gave it a sharp pull.

"Okay, yes, you decide. But take this off first."

"Just the shirt?"

"No, everything."

"Okay." Seth retreated far enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it away. "Get on the bed."

Thomas did, rather ungracefully. He tripped into Seth, who gave him a helpful shove, and the added momentum (not to mention the pants twisted around his thighs) drove him face first into the mattress. Oddly unselfconscious, Thomas laughed.

"You okay?" Seth asked, the question perfunctory if the way he divested Thomas of his jeans and underwear was any measure. "Roll over."

With a sigh, Thomas obeyed. His bedroom was cool; he'd left the window open that morning, and the night air rolled through the screen and over the bed. It banked the intense heat Seth had coaxed to the surface, but lust still simmered low in his abdomen. A dull throb of pleasure pulsed in his balls, keeping time with his heartbeat.

Something clattered – a belt buckle – and Thomas watched Seth's bright shadow slither out of his jeans. He let them drop in a heap, but didn't move – just stood over the bed, hands on his hips. Breathless, Thomas curled his fingers into the blanket. "What are you waiting for?"

"Some fucking self-control," Seth said through clenched teeth.

"What on earth for? Come here." Thomas held out his arms and Seth prowled across the mattress, then hovered with a hand on either side of Thomas' head.

"Tommy." He sank down, and the explosion of sensation had Thomas clutching at Seth's bare hips. Being pinned, controlled, transformed the hum of pleasure in his groin into an intense ache. No fantasy compared to Seth's firm body sliding against him, slick in some places, friction-hot in others, his cock nestled thick and stiff where Thomas wanted it. Seth groaned, and the sound tripped Thomas even closer to the edge.

Seth sat up, trapping Thomas between his thighs. "So hot." Fingers danced over the sparse stubble dotting his chin. "You didn't shave today. Love that."

Thomas shook his head, then let his eyes flutter closed. The visuals of the scene were lost to him anyway. Seth's hands splayed down his throat, over his biceps, and reflexively, the muscles in his arms tensed, drawing an appreciative hum from above. "These must be from lifting those boxes all day, hmmm? Nice." Feather-light touch became the scratch of blunt nails. Thomas forgot to breathe.

The sheets felt like ice on his back, while Seth's hands, now on his chest, were hot enough to brand. Hypersensitive, he gasped and arched up when Seth's thumbs brushed his nipples.

Above him, Seth groaned. "Fuck. I can't—" He angled forward, pulling a hoarse cry from Thomas when the move pressed their cocks close. "I'm sorry, I just can't." He rocked forward again, and just as Thomas was shaking the invisible lead weights from his arms and reaching up, Seth disappeared.

He was back a second later, sliding back into the same position. The snap of a flip cap answered Thomas' unspoken question of where the hell did you go, and a slippery hand, still cold, wrapped around his cock. Expecting it made it no less shocking. He yelped.

"Sorry."

"Nghh," Thomas said, and Seth laughed.

"You're very good for my ego."

His hand moved, stroking too damn slow, but the lube had warmed and was sliding everywhere Thomas needed it. He spat a curse when Seth's fingers went loose, then sighed when they tightened again, this time with Seth's erection squeezed next to his. Seth rolled the head of his cock around Thomas' once before clutching them together, ridge to ridge, and kneading them in his palm.

Panting, throat dry, Thomas gathered enough strength to raise his arms to Seth's heaving chest. He tried to draw him down, but Seth's talented fingers had quashed his dexterity, and all he could do was clutch at his slick skin. "Seth," he begged. "More."

Seth's hand worked harder. The pace grew fast and uneven. He fell forward for a kiss, but pulled back when Thomas tried to hold him there. "No. I want to see you, okay? I want to look at you."

Thomas' frustration peaked. "I want that too." So much. He punched the mattress with both fists.

"Shhh." A hand cupped his cheek. The other worked his cock, and Seth's voice was all around him, babbling nonsense about how he wanted this and more and again and later.

And how believing wasn't all about seeing.

The pleasure spun out, fogging all other sensation except for the hard cock rubbing against his, the hand trapping them together, and Seth's urgent voice. Thomas gritted his teeth, clutched at Seth's thighs, and willed his climax back again and again, until the time between efforts dwindled to nothing, and the need to let go suffocated everything else.

Seth stilled, then drove forward with enough power to slide Thomas a few inches across the sheets. That, and the sound he made when he came, sparked an orgasm that lifted Thomas' hips clear off the bed. Distantly, he heard Seth saying his name, felt something hot spray over his stomach, and then he was arcing back again, overcome with another wave of pleasure.

Relentless, Seth milked them both until overstimulation had Thomas whimpering and twisting away. He captured Seth's hand and dragged it up his chest, then coaxed him down to the mattress. Seth collapsed over him like a rag doll.

His bed was a queen, big enough to spread out in if they'd wanted, but Thomas kept Seth close. This kind of perfection wasn't dealt every day. He wanted to savor it. The night air cooled their bodies, and finally there was no ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness between them. Thomas sighed, and Seth echoed it. "Shower?" his muffled voice asked from the vicinity of Thomas' shoulder.

"Sure." And then? He twirled Seth's hair in his fingers, idly, like he wasn't wrestling with his biggest bout of insecurity in two years. Anxiety made his stomach flip-flop.

"Hey." Seth raised his head. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"Thinking about how to throw me out nicely?"

Thomas twitched. "No, I…." Letting Seth sneak in and finish his sentences usually worked out well, but this time no reprieve arrived. Seth waited quietly while Thomas sifted through a half-dozen glib responses. "No," he decided on. "I'd like you to stay."

Seth lifted himself off, then guided Thomas to his feet. "If you want to," Thomas added softly when they were both standing.

Seth kissed his forehead, and his lips lingered there. "I want to very much."