Work Text:
Serge was sitting crosslegged on the floor of his bedroom, strumming new tunes on the guitar on his lap. He’d been at it for the past twenty minutes or so, humming to himself, trying this and that melody. And Tom had been watching him quietly for the same twenty minutes or so. He looked so serene. He always does when he’s composing. Inside his own world, a translucent bubble in which only him and his music exist. At times like this, he looks beautiful. Not that he doesn’t other times. He always looks beautiful, Tom thought. All the time.
But especially at times like this. Exquisite.
Young Tom leaned forward and planted a soft, the softest, kiss on Serge’s lips. It lingered. One second. Two seconds. Tom pulled back, and saw that Serge was now looking at him, a dazzled look in his eyes. As if he was both confused and couldn’t quite believed what just happened. Tom gave a hesitant smile, slightly panicking on the inside, expecting things to implode and Serge to disappear from his life forever.
But.
Serge smiled back.
And that was it. The first one of many, many kisses to come.