Convoke

Chapter 46

Tom lay awake for hours. Ezra slept peacefully next to him, occasionally snoring softly, and rolling over to fold arms around him. Tom watched the shadows on his bedroom walls grow lighter and slowly distort with the rising sun.

The fair would start in three hours. Glancing at his watch, he knew the street would already be busy with stall owners and event organisers at 6am.

He didn't want to go. He wanted to run with Ezra as far as they could go and leave the dread of it all behind him. But he had to stay and find out what was really going on. After all, that was eating him up the most, and consuming his thoughts.

Ezra woke when Tom's parents started clanging around in the kitchen. He stretched an arm over Tom, and pressed his nose into his cheek, mumbling a tired, "Good morning."

Tom ran fingers through his black hair until Ezra opened his eyes. The sun caught the brown, a beautiful rich brown that often hid his pupils. He traced a thumb down the scar on his cheek, stopping at the edge of his mouth.

"Sleep well?" he whispered.

Ezra nodded and propped himself up to lean over him. "Did you?"

Tom nodded, but Ezra could tell that he hadn't. Instead of commenting on his bloodshot eyes, the bags under them, or the paleness to his usual flushed skin, he kissed his forehead and settled his body on top of him until Tom's parents yelled that breakfast was ready.

Tom could barely eat, and he could barely keep his mind back from thinking of the worst. Demons were meant to storm the fair today, disrupting the angels choir. Then what? Had they finally lost their composure? Were they finally fighting back in an unfair world? How far would they go? Would they burn their old village down to the ground like so many had dreamt about?

"Eat something," Ezra whispered, lightly nudging him. "Today is going to be a long one."

Instead, Tom drank the rest of his coffee and headed to the bathroom for a warm shower. He turned the water on, and stared at the water hitting the floor, and steaming the room. Tracing his own hands over his arms, he didn't want to be alone.

"Ezra," he whispered, knowing he had returned to the bedroom. A tall figure appeared in the doorway, and Tom motioned him over. Taking his hand, he pulled him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

Ezra stood silently as Tom took his own top off. The air was warm from the shower, but Tom felt a nervous shiver travelling through his body. He breathed a sigh of relief when Ezra took his t-shirt off too.

Ezra's demon mark went beyond his neck, wrapping over his collar and over his left shoulder. Tom reached up, tracing a finger over his collar bone. Ezra gently placed hands to Tom's waist, pulling them together.

"I want to enjoy one thing today, in case it all goes bad later," Tom whispered.

Ezra leaned down and kissed him. Their hands were quickly on each other, touching skin, caressing skin, grabbing skin. And then they were under the shower head, letting water flow between them as the lust took over.

Tom was mindful of how long the water was on. Ezra was mindful of Tom's peace of mind. He was gentle, attentive, and made sure Tom was the centre of his attention.

When they were done and changed again, with wet hair, Tom's anxiety had fallen silent. Especially when Ezra was looking at him with all the adoration in the world, and still grabbing at him, and offering soft kisses to the side of his face.

"You'll stay close to me today, won't you?" Ezra asked.

"I will. I just really hope everything stays civil. But I don't think it will."