Mike found himself walking through a room of paintings in his end of the place, thinking about what the others must be doing. Dean and Todd were probably fooling around or getting high, and Aaron was probably roid raging at a door that would not open. Mike? Mike was just enjoying the quiet and serene environment. He didn't show it very often, but despite his jock exterior, he had quite an appreciation for the arts. He had volunteered to be depicted by the art club as their model, which had just as much to do with being near the hot art class girls as it did with his appreciations.
So imagine his surprise and delight to be standing in the midst of the hall of the arts in this old building. He found himself looking around at some of the old paintings, wondering who made such surprisingly detailed and well crafted works. Certainly didn't look like any of the work he was familiar with. But as Mike went along he started to get an odd feeling. Almost like he was being watched. He looked around and scowled a little.
He thought he heard something like someone running along, trying to be sneaky and failing just enough to make themselves obviously there. Mike didn't like it, but he wasn't gonna let something like that interrupt his fun tonight. He started inspecting the paintings themselves. Many of them were from multiple different parts of history, depicting scenes from their time;
He saw a painting of a victorious, strong black armored knight standing atop the vanquished form of some vile one eyed beast, holding his claymore in one hand, pinning the vile creature's jaw to the floor. The Knight was tall and pale and visibly strong to be carrying such a sword, even wielding it in one hand Mike guessed. He was handsome and youthful, smooth skinned and almost effeminate in his face if not in his body, which was even with the armor on visibly muscular and broad-shouldered.
He saw a painting of some farmers standing in their cornfield as something odd seemed to exist just within the purview of the painting, inside the cornfield, a glossy and yellow eye visible in the walking shadow inside the cornfield. The couple's house was visible in the distance, and Mike had to admit the male farmer was quite a score for the wife; he was taller and bigger and broader than Mike in every way, scarred up a bit to be sure, with light blond hair. He looked about 40 or so, but retained his youth to a significant degree.
Next Mike saw a painting depicting a cave being investigated by some dark haired adventurer-archaeologist, the man clearly cut in the model of the young Harrison Ford Indiana Jones. He was with a young woman and Mike had to grin at the way she was holding on to the strong shoulders of the archaeologist. She was very obviously into him, and Mike wished he had a similar date...
And finally Mike saw a picture depicting an old Greek Olympics performance, won evidently by a young, Mediterranean tanned muscular Greek with very curly blond hair and a cherubic face. He was holding up a discus, and grinning widely. Surely he was anticipating the incredible sex he was due to receive from his girlfriends and boyfriends at the time. After all in those days, the standard was a sort of conditional bisexuality.
Mike started to feel hot all of a sudden, standing in that room full of pictures, and removed his jacket, breathing a little and standing in the midst of the paintings.
He wondered why it was so hot in here all of a sudden when it was so cold other places, but figured it could be a difference in the air conditioning in here. He decided to get a break and relax in here before heading out to the rest of the wing. He only took a moment more before his shirt joined his jacket on the floor, and he laid back against the wall. He was really starting to feel the heat growing stronger. He started wondering about that...