Work Text:
The scratch of the match across the box's striking strip cut sharply through the silence of the abandoned warehouse like the sonic boom of a jet. Tommy's heart trip-hammered in his chest. Adrenaline surged through him as he glanced out at the street through the poorly boarded, broken window, sure everyone in a ten block radius must have heard. If they did hear it, they didn't care enough to come investigate.
Tommy closed his eyes and inhaled the acrid odor drifting through the air from the match igniting. A smile curled his lips. They would care, though. Soon. Very soon.
Tommy waited anxiously in the shadows of an alley across from the warehouse. It loomed tall, imposing, much too large for someone like him to take apart … except that's exactly what he'd done.
Through the boarded window, Tommy stared at the glow of firelight flickering in the dark like a tease. He bit his bottom lip and waited, until finally the flames danced closer, curling out around the door he'd left ajar and through the holes in broken glass. Tommy sighed, muscles unknotting, pure bliss surging through him. He closed his eyes and moaned softly, the rush like nothing else.
Tommy's heart raced and his breath quickened as sirens sounded in the distance. Anticipation thrummed through him, keeping time with the shrill sound as it grew closer. They would be there soon. He would be there soon.
"Adam," Tommy whispered like a prayer in the dark.
As he watched, the flames consumed more and more of the warehouse, their hot, curling fingers licking at the night air through any crack they could find in the building's structure, beckoning Tommy closer. He resisted. And waited, knowing Adam would come, would embrace the gift Tommy was bestowing upon him. He always did.
Bright red paint gleamed in the light of the streetlamp, cutting off Tommy's view of the warehouse. That was okay because he was left with the breathtaking sight of the fire truck framed by flames. He wished he had a camera to capture it with.
And then Adam stepped out from the cab of the fire truck, shouting orders at the other firefighters, who were scrambling off the truck like ants swarming toward spilled sugar. A bubble of laughter escaped before Tommy could stop it. They were ants. Little worker ants, there to pick up the crumbs he'd left them.
Adam, though… He wasn't an ant. He was the exception. He was everything to Tommy; had been ever since the first time he'd shown up to see one of Tommy's masterpieces. That had been it. Tommy had found himself drawn in by the only person powerful enough to turn his masterpiece to wet ash.
Tommy's hand slid over his jeans, cupping his cock as he watched Adam work. When Adam paused and looked Tommy's way, as if sensing him, Tommy melted into the shadows, dick jumping in his hand.
Next time, he promised them both. Next time, he wouldn't hide.