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“Uncle David?” Tommy tries to hide his surprise at seeing the name pop up on his phone.
“Hey Tommy, how are things?” David’s voice is deeper than Tommy remembers, almost indistinguishable from Tommy’s dad. Like a phantom, Tommy smells cigarette smoke and bourbon and feels his heartbeat spike.
“Good,” Tommy says, clipped. “You?”
“Yeah, good, yeah. Aunt Amy is good, her back’s been giving her trouble again, but you know, she’s a saint. Never complains,” David says.
“Well make sure she’s taking care of it, it’s better to stay ahead of chronic problems like that,” Tommy advises. He can’t quite get the puzzlement completely out of his tone, but he does his best. With the exception of his cousin, he hasn’t spoken with anyone in his family in years, and Jason only calls around tax time.
“How’s life treating you, kid? You seeing anyone?”
There’s weird and then there’s surreal. Tommy genuinely can’t remember the last time any member of his family asked how he was doing and they definitely never wanted to know about his love life.
“Uncle David, I don’t want to be rude, but I have to run soon,” Tommy does not have to run soon, “what’s going on?” Tommy sinks into his kitchen chair, already tired of playing at happy families.
“It’s your dad,” David sighs. “He’s, he’s dead.”
–
Tommy guides Evan to the couch, it’s like moving a wind-up doll, point in a direction and let him go.
“Here,” he says gently. “Sit, I’ll get you something to drink.”
Evan nods, motions stilted and eyes blank. Since leaving the hospital it’s like he’s shut down. Tommy stays long enough to make sure Evan actually sits, then escapes to the kitchen, hands shaking as he pours a glass of water for his shell-shocked ex.
Tommy had been expecting some sort of crash, how could he not after seeing Evan in the tunnel, but by the time Evan walked Athena out, he’d shoved all the grief and the hurt down until it was impossible to see. Unless you knew where to look for it, lurking behind briefly haunted eyes and an unnatural stillness in his usually expressive hands as he gathered what was left of the 118 and got them to the hospital.
Evan bounced between members of his family, one moment wrapping Athena in his arms until May and Harry came, the next arranging extended family to come help with the kids, then over to Ravi with a firm hand on overburdened shoulders. All the while Tommy followed in his wake, a silent shadow, providing cups of coffee and energy bars as needed.
It was as if Evan believed that if he kept moving then the events of the night wouldn’t be real. Stay up until the sunrise and your dad won’t be dead anymore.
But eventually the hospital waiting room had emptied, his people returned to their homes, and now there’s no one to take care of. No one to call. No crisis to manage. Just Evan alone with the ghost of Bobby.
Somehow, Tommy doesn’t think a glass of water is going to be enough.
–
Tommy’s entire body is humming, every nerve ending lit up and oversensitive. His skin sparks everywhere it brushes against the soft cotton sheets, sending jolts of electricity dancing up his arms and legs.
A whimper works its way out of his mouth, a desperate, needy sound. Broken and wanting. He’s not begging, not yet, but they both know it’s only a matter of time.
“What was that?” The question is playful, Evan’s voice rough after what felt like hours of eating him out. “You say something, Tommy?”
“Mm-mm,” Tommy hums out a negative, his lips pressed tight together to keep anything else from escaping.
“No?” Evan lets out a low chuckle, his thumb teasing in and out of Tommy’s hole, catching on spit slick skin. “Well, in that case,” Evan dives back in, licking around the digit, pushing past that first layer of resistance.
–
Tommy leaves home at seventeen with nothing more than a GED and a duffel bag of belongings he doesn’t want trashed. His mother cries when she signs the papers granting permission for him to join the Army, his dad makes one last crack about how maybe this will be the thing to straighten him out.
During basic he writes home once a week, same as most of the other recruits. There are a couple guys who don’t have anyone to write to, who rarely get letters, they stand out. Get questions instead, the Drill Sergeants singling them out for being different.
The point of basic training is to break an individual down, strip them of identity, so they can function as part of a unit. Sacrifice the self for the whole. It’s almost relaxing, giving up who he is. Letting go of everything that makes up ‘Tommy’, all the disappointing parts of him, and letting his instructors remake him into their ideal soldier.
There are moments though, when the Drill Sergeant is screaming and Tommy has to bite back a sarcastic remark, or his eyes want to linger a little too long on a drop of sweat gliding down a muscled chest, when Tommy remembers. He’s a broken cog in this machine, and eventually someone is going to notice.
–
Huh. Tommy had always wondered how he would feel when he heard the news. He used to take the idea out and play with it, not like he was planning patricide or anything, but the way his father lived it was only a matter of time before something happened. His drinking was always Tommy’s top contender, either as a direct or indirect cause. Mostly Tommy just hoped that when it happened his dad didn’t manage to take anyone else out with him.
So now the day is here and Tommy feels…nothing. Not numb, he knows what that’s like and this is different. He just feels…empty. Like he’s been given information about a stranger. It’s interesting, a little sad, the way it’s a little sad anytime someone dies, but that’s all.
“I’m um, sorry for your loss, Uncle David,” Tommy runs a hand down his face. “How did he die?”
“Officially?” David asks and Tommy hums in answer. “Heart failure, but I mean, we both know the cirrhosis-”
“Yeah,” Tommy cuts him off, not wanting to sit through that lecture.
“It got really bad the last couple years,” David barrels on. “I can’t tell you how many times the doctors said the only option was a transplant. His only hope was for someone to donate part of their liver.”
“Did the doctors also tell you that the donation wouldn’t do any good so long as he kept drinking?” Tommy snaps, finally feeling something other than blankness.
“You’re his son Tommy. You didn’t even get tested to see if you were a match.”
Tommy rolls his eyes, happy Uncle David is enough of a boomer to prefer phone calls to video chats.
“Well the last time we spoke he said I was no son of his, so I guess that lets me off the hook,” Tommy says, only feeling briefly guilty for the sarcasm.
–
Tommy is quiet while his table chatters about the Father’s Day cards they’re all making. Across the room at her group table he sees that Ashley R. isn’t joining in the excitement with the others either.
Of the three Ashleys in class, she’s the best. Ashley R. Is nice and doesn’t yell and last week she shared her apple slices when Tommy didn’t have any lunch because Mamma had worked late and Dad forgot to pack it.
Mamma spent the weekend teaching Tommy how to make his own lunch, so now he can do it himself, just like the big kids.
He locks eyes with Ashley R. and they share a moment of horror as they realize Ms. Young is calling everyone up one by one to show off their cards. Tommy wishes really hard, but the floor doesn’t open up and swallow him before she gets to his table.
“Tommy Kinard,” Ms. Young says, voice easily carrying over the room. “Come on down and show us what you made.”
The walk to the head of the classroom is long and ominous, once in front of everyone Tommy fiddles nervously with his card. He looks past the table islands, staring intently at the water cycle poster on the far wall.
“My memory that I drew for my Father’s Day card was of, um, my dad taking us all on a picnic.” Tommy keeps his eyes locked on the poster, certain that at any second the police are going to burst through the doors and arrest him for lying on his schoolwork.
He didn’t want to fib, but Ms. Young told them to draw a happy memory for their cards and Tommy couldn’t think of any. Not with Dad. There were some that started happy, but they always got sad and scary at the end and telling only the happy bit seemed like just as much a lie as making something up.
So he stares at the poster, describes his made up memory, and waits for the inevitable consequences of his crime.
“That’s lame,” Josh K. proclaims. “My drawing is way better than that!”
“Josh, it’s not a competition,” Ms. Young says. “Thank you Tommy, that’s a lovely card, back to your seat. Next up is Nick Morris, Nick come on down!”
There’s a faint buzzing in Tommy’s ears as he slowly walks back to his table. Nothing happened. He got away with it.
Tommy smiles, relieved. Nobody knew.
–
“You didn’t have to get dressed up,” Tommy says, leaning in to kiss Evan’s cheek.
“Of course I did,” Evan says, giving a little twirl to show off his suit. “We’re making a statement.”
“Thank you for doing this.” Tommy takes Evan’s hand as they walk out of the house to the truck. “You look gorgeous, baby.”
“Thanks, you clean up nice yourself.” Evan swings their hands a little while they walk, a sign that he’s more nervous than he wants to let on.
“You know, we don’t have to go, if you’re not comfortable-”
“Hey.” Evan stops them, turning so they're facing each other, cupping Tommy’s face in his hands. “I am more than okay with this, I am fucking ready, willing, and eager.”
“Okay,” Tommy says, his head being forcibly nodded by Evan’s hands still clutching his face. “Let’s go.”
–
“I might have some daddy issues,” Tommy says.
“What?” Evan laughs, like he can’t quite believe he heard correctly.
“Sorry, that’s…pretend I didn’t say anything.” Tommy presses a kiss to Evan’s curls, freed from their gel prison after a shower.
“No, Tommy. Hey, what’s going on?” Evan props himself up against Tommy’s chest, blue eyes wide and searching.
“It’s- You remember what I said earlier, that my dad and I don’t really talk?”
“Yeah, I-I remember,” Evan says, running a hand down Tommy’s chest.
“More accurately, I haven’t spoken to him in,” Tommy does some quick math, “almost five years. And I’ve barely seen him for over twenty. I left home and never looked back. And between then and now there was no shortage of patriarchal figures trying to mold me into the man they wanted me to be.” Tommy shrugs the shoulder not currently held down by Evan’s body.
“So when you say daddy issues,” Evan trails off, expectantly.
“I mean literally, yeah,” Tommy laughs, staring at the ceiling. “You know, it’s funny,” Tommy muses. “By the time Bobby became Captain, I was pretty burnt out on father figures, but he still wanted to…help me.” Tommy shifts slightly, rolling Evan so they’re facing each other, Tommy’s pinned arm still holding Evan. “You know, he’s the one who encouraged me to re-certify as a pilot?”
Evan shakes his head, eyes lit up in curiosity.
“Yeah, Bobby heard me talking to Howie about how much I missed flying and he, he told me I should go for it, said that he believed in me.”
“Bobby’s good like that,” Evan says, snuggling closer. “Sometimes I feel bad, because I mean, I do have a dad, but I didn’t really talk to my parents for a long time either. We’re working on it now, but I don’t know that we’ll ever be close.”
“So maybe we both have daddy issues,” Tommy repeats Evan’s earlier words.
Evan ducks his head, snickering into Tommy’s chest. “Yeah, maybe.”
–
Fuck. Tommy could almost come from the sounds Evan makes alone, the slurps and pants, the little mms of delight. The high, broken whine as Evan tries to work deeper, desperate and hungry.
It’s too much, too good, too overwhelming. Tommy buries his face in the pillow, already damp with drool and tears, gulping harsh breaths that pull wet fabric into his mouth. Coughing out a muffled plea as Evan finally sinks his thumb fully inside.
Tommy’s tongue is dry, the pillow still caught between his teeth. He spits it out, pressing his forehead to sodden cloth and tries again to speak.
“Please.”
–
Evan looks so small curled up in Tommy’s bed, like he could disappear into blankets or vanish under pillows if Tommy takes his eyes off him. He’s diminished somehow, the wellspring of vitality that makes Evan fill a room with light and life nothing more than a trickle.
Tommy hates Bobby, just a little, for doing this to Evan. He hates Bobby for making himself important, essential, to Evan, and dying anyway.
It’s irrational, Tommy recognizes that as he looks at his emotions from the detached distance he’s kept them at since realizing he didn’t have the luxury of feeling them tonight, but for a moment he wishes ghosts were real so he could punch Bobby Nash square in his self-sacrificing jaw.
Evan twitches on the bed, his brows drawn together as he lets out a small cry. Tommy hurries to his side, warm hand landing on a too cool shoulder.
“Evan. Evan, wake up, baby.” He rubs Evan’s arm, both to warm him and to bring him back to consciousness.
“Hmm?” Evan blinks sleepy eyes up at Tommy
“Everything’s okay, you were dreaming.”
“Stay?” Evan’s voice is ruined. He hasn’t cried since the tunnel, but he sounds like all his grief is living in his throat.
“Of course,” Tommy puts aside his anger, the same as his sorrow and pain, and climbs into bed. With the sensation of Evan in his arms, he can almost convince himself that he doesn’t feel anything else.
–
“That’s not fair, Tommy,” David sighs. “Why did you always have to take everything he said so personally?” Like his father’s violent homophobia is a fly that’s being particularly irritating.
Tommy is beyond done with this conversation. He takes a calming breath, and lets the old hurt drain away, finding that distance from a few moments earlier.
All David wants is to feel like he won, Tommy spent enough time placating his dad to know that. It’s a simple thing to do and costs Tommy nothing, because these people are nothing to him.
“Uncle David,” Tommy forces contrition into his tone. “I’m sorry.” He crosses his fingers behind his back, it’s childish, but it helps to get the words out. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Not at a time like this. Just, when’s the funeral?”
“I understand,” David says, pretentiously. “You’re grieving. The funeral is next week, but Tommy,” David wavers briefly. “Well, are you seeing anyone?”
“I don- why does that matter?” Tommy asks, brain stuttering.
–
“Eddie’s arriving tomorrow,” Evan says. He’s laying on his side, facing away from Tommy, the long expanse of his back looking almost golden in the morning sun.
Tommy’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch, to feel if his skin is as warm as it looks, but he hesitates, unsure of his welcome.
“He’s flying in for the funeral?” Tommy asks, forcibly neutral.
“Yeah, he um, he’ll be staying here. O-On the couch.” Evan shifts a little, almost like he was going to turn, then stopped.
“Right.” Tommy lays back, staring at the ceiling.
Tommy’s been with Evan every night since Bobby…since the lab, either at his place or Evan’s. But if Eddie’s coming, then-
He thumps his head back against the pillow, every instinct telling him to wait for Evan to leave and then make his escape. Run before he breaks Tommy's heart again.
“Do,” Tommy stops, clears his throat. “Do you want me here?”
“Tommy,” Evan breathes, turning to face him. “I always want you here. But,” his eyes drop. “These next few days, I need to be there for the team. For Athena. The funeral is going to be so hard on everyone and I-I have to, they’re going to need me.”
“What about what you need?” Tommy asks, softly.
Evan presses a kiss to his chest, just above Tommy’s heart. “We can worry about that later.”
–
“Please, Evan.”
The effect is instantaneous, Evan lifts his head, free hand soothing down Tommy’s flank like he’s a spooked horse.
“What do you need, baby?” He pushes deeper.
“Y-You.” Tommy presses back, but it’s not enough. “Need you.”
Evan laughs again, dark and intoxicating, making Tommy’s hot skin break out in shivers.
“You need me to fuck you, is that it, Tommy?” Evan’s hand grips tighter on Tommy’s thigh.
“Mm-hmm, y-yeah. Please. Please, Evan,” Tommy begs. He doesn’t know why he fought so hard to keep the words sealed behind his lips, they pour out of him now and it feels like relief. “Please, baby, please fuck me, Evan. Be so good for you, please.”
Evan moves, his thumb slipping out of Tommy’s hole and he sobs at the loss.
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you need, Tommy,” Evan promises.
Tommy hears the snap of a cap, within moments Evan’s fingers are back at his entrance, Tommy groans as two fingers thrust in, in, in. A relentless press of flesh that has Tommy dropping his head as sensation drowns him once more, his hands clenching at the ruined sheets, desperately searching for an anchor.
“God, you’re already so loose, so open for me,” Evan breathes, almost reverent. “Look how well you take it.” He pulls out, only to return a moment later, lube dribbling down Tommy’s thigh as three fingers make a home inside him. “That’s it, always so eager for me, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” Tommy hisses, the burn just the right side of painful. “Only for you.”
There’s a sharp nip on his asscheek and Tommy jolts, groaning as he presses Evan’s fingers deeper.
–
This isn’t how Tommy wanted to be spending one of his and Evan’s precious shared days off, but there’s something unsettled in his gut that won’t leave the idea alone. It’s like a gremlin has taken up residence in the back of his brain and keeps pushing the thought forward at random moments, refusing to let him rest.
His only misgiving had been Evan, it’s so soon after Bobby’s funeral, only a couple months. And Tommy doesn’t want to push him to do something that he wouldn’t be comfortable with, but Evan had been surprisingly onboard when Tommy explained the impulse. Or maybe not so surprising. He has his own complicated relationship with fatherhood after all and can be just as petty and spiteful as Tommy is cynical and sardonic.
Some days Tommy thinks it’s a miracle they ever managed to make their relationship work, and others, he can’t believe they’re anything other than fated.
It’s probably Evan’s influence.
“Ready?” Tommy asks.
“Almost.” Evan leans over the gearshift, eyes bright and expectant as Tommy closes the scant distance for a kiss. “For luck,” Evan grins. “Now we’re ready.”
Evan links his arm through Tommy’s as they walk slowly up the grassy hill to the grave site.
There’s roughly twenty people milling around, a few chairs set up near the open grave under a tent that’s only going to trap the day’s heat, and a blanket of fake grass on top of the real grass that Tommy doesn’t understand but seems to be a staple of graveside services. He spots a priest, not the one he grew up with so Our Lady of Mercy is probably under new management, talking to Uncle David and a small crowd of people some of whom Tommy vaguely recognizes from his dad’s weekend poker games or dragging him home from the bar.
Evan gives his hand one last reassuring squeeze and they march up to the funeral, together.
–
Tommy lets the cock slip from between his lips, careful to turn his head and spit into the sand. It was a lesson he learned early, only fags swallow. He roughly rubs his hand across his mouth, making a show of getting rid of the taste.
Mike offers him a hand up, then offers him a hand. Tommy keeps his head facing away, staring out into the distance, holding his body rigid so he doesn’t accidentally sway closer to the intoxicating smell of Mike’s sweat drenched collar.
They’ve been trading bro-jobs for the last couple weeks, Mike’s got a girlfriend back home he insists he’s gonna propose to the moment they’re stateside again and likes to mouth at Tommy’s balls when he’s sucking him off.
As far as the rest of their unit knows, Tommy’s girlfriend broke up with him just before he deployed and he’s still hung up on his first love.
The arrangement lasts until Mike’s in a convoy that gets hit by an IED, and he’s sent back home to recover. Tommy receives a letter nearly six months later inviting him to the wedding.
Tommy’s been discharged by then, but he knows better than to hold onto something that’s long gone. Though he does send Mike and his bride a blender off their registry, along with his congratulations.
–
“It doesn’t matter,” David says, tone indicating otherwise. “It’s just. You know how you and your dad were, and I just don’t want a scene.”
“A scene?” Tommy rubs his eyes. “He’s dead, David. What kind of a scene would I make?”
“You know,” David says, with strange emphasis. “The last time you and your dad spoke you made such a big deal about…about your lifestyle. I just don’t want you showing up to his funeral to, I don’t know, rub it in one last time.”
“Wow,” Tommy laughs, short and harsh. “You’re worried I’m going to show up to the funeral with a boyfriend.”
“Your father, my brother, is dead Tommy. Whatever reason you had to keep antagonizing him all these years, that’s gone now,” David sounds tired. Like Tommy is being unreasonable and it’s taking all his energy just to deal with him. “Your personal life is your business, but I’d prefer you didn’t make a spectacle of yourself, that’s all. Not when we’re all there to say goodbye to Thomas.”
“Right.” Tommy can feel the blood pumping through his veins, hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Look um, I have a shift.” He feels bile rise at the familiar excuse, swallows as saliva floods his mouth. “We can finish this up later, I’ll call you.”
“Of course,” David says. “Don’t be a stranger, Tommy. Your family loves you.”
Tommy hangs up the phone, staring at the brightly lit screen until the apps blur and merge as tears finally begin to fall.
With trembling hands, he navigates to his contacts, making a call. The phone rings twice before a familiar voice picks up and Tommy instantly feels all the tension begin to drain from his body.
“H-Hey, Tommy,” Evan answers, bright if a little confused.
“Evan,” Tommy’s fighting to keep his voice from cracking. “You busy?”
“No, no I’m completely free,” Evan says, concern creeping in.
“Great.” They should probably talk. That’s what they agreed, no more substituting sex for communication, when something big happens, they need to talk. “Then how about you come over to my place and fuck my brains out until I can’t think anymore?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, a catch of breath. “Yeah,” Evan answers, husky and low. “Yeah, I can do that.”
–
Tommy can feel the head of Evan’s cock at his entrance, there’s the slightest hesitation, just a moment of stillness and anticipation; then Evan is pressing forward and all Tommy can feel is the firm relentless slide inside.
There’s nothing, nothing except the steady force of Evan making room for himself inside Tommy. He feels so full. Claimed. Kept. Evan grips tighter at Tommy’s hips, forcing him still while he draws out before thrusting back in and Tommy can’t wait to run his fingers over the bruises he knows will be left behind.
Evan’s movements are slow and deliberate, driving Tommy crazy with the need to meet Evan’s thrusts, to take some sort of control over the pleasure coursing through his body. Tommy hisses slightly as Evan pulls back, a slow slide until he’s barely inside, Tommy’s hole clutching at the head of his dick.
The next thrust rocks Tommy onto his forearms, he feels Evan’s hand settle firmly between his shoulder blades, holding him down. A high-pitched whine starts somewhere in the back of Tommy’s throat and ends muffled in the pillow he buries his face in as Evan starts pounding his ass, the slick sound of flesh on flesh filling the room.
–
Tommy’s plan is to leave directly after the procession.
The wake is being held back at the 118, but Tommy doesn’t think he can stand around for hours making awkward small talk with people who used to be his friends while trying not to make inappropriately timed moon eyes at Evan, who’s made it clear that he has enough going on in his life right now and doesn’t have time for Tommy.
He follows the crowd back to the station, only sticking around long enough to once again give Athena his condolences for her loss. The Chief comes over and Tommy makes his clumsy excuses, ducking out ahead of the incoming brass.
The best advice he ever got in the Army was to avoid anyone with stars on their shoulders, and he figures that applies in civilian life too. He’s already come under uncomfortable levels of scrutiny for multiple thefts of municipal property. Last thing he needs is the Chief remembering he exists.
Tommy makes a beeline for the exit, taking a deep breath once outside, the warm spring air filling his lungs with relief after the stifling, oppressive atmosphere within the fire station.
There’s a sniffling around the corner, someone crying and trying to be quiet about it. Tommy wants to leave, let them have their breakdown in peace, but a combination of curiosity and worry has him rounding the side of the building.
“Evan?”
“T-Tommy,” Evan hiccups a sob. “What are you doing out here?”
“Making a clean getaway,” he smiles.
“Yeah, you’re good at that,” Evan mutters.
Tommy takes the verbal jab like a physical blow, stepping back and crossing his arms protectively.
“Sorry,” Evan says, eyes getting big and somehow sadder. “That’s not. Sorry, you don’t deserve that.”
“It’s okay, we’re all pretty raw today,” he says, accepting the apology.
“True, but somehow I always seem to say the wrong thing to you, no matter what. I can never get it right.” Evan wipes at his eyes as fresh tears stream down his face.
“Then maybe we shouldn’t talk,” Tommy says, stepping closer. “Is Eddie still sleeping on your couch?”
“Yeah,” Evan says, eyes losing that awful blankness for the first time since they hoisted Bobby’s coffin on their shoulders.
“Would you like to come back to my place for a while?” Tommy’s fingers catch on the brightly polished buttons of Evan’s dress uniform.
“Yeah.”
–
Tommy is floating. There’s no life-changing relationship he has to worry about fucking up…again, no dead captain, no dead father, no fear, no love, no grief. Nothing but the hard cock pistoning in and out of his body and the little cries punched out of him as Evan begins relentlessly nailing his prostate.
“Are you ready to come, Tommy?” Evan pulls Tommy up, biting at his ear, as he wraps an arm around his chest. “Do you think you’ve earned it? Have you been good for me?”
Tommy drops his head back to Evan’s shoulder, granting him better access as Evan slowly works his way down Tommy’s throat. “I- please, Evan. You’re so deep. I can’t- I can’t.”
“Tell me you deserve it, Tommy.” Evan grinds his hips against Tommy’s. “Tell me you’ve earned the right to come.”
“Evan,” Tommy groans, the circling motion sending jolts of pleasure through him. “Please, please let me.”
“Shh, you can do it,” Evan soothes, hand teasing down Tommy’s chest.
“I’ve been good,” Tommy manages to gasp out. “I’ve been good, let me come.”
Evan brushes a soft kiss to Tommy’s temple, his hand moves down and starts stripping Tommy’s cock in time with his thrusts. “That’s it, you’re doing so good Tommy. Come on, baby, Come for me.”
Tommy gasps as he comes, slumping in Evan’s arms as he feels Evan groan against his neck and warmth flood him inside.
They collapse on the bed, both trying to catch their breath.
“So,” Evan pants. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
–
“Tommy,” David intercepts them a few yards away from the crowd. “You promised not to make one of your scenes.” His eyes dart down to their clasped hands then back up to Tommy’s face. “This isn’t the time or place.”
“Uncle David,” Tommy says, making sure his words carry, fake smile firmly in place. “It’s so good to see you, this is my boyfriend, Evan.” He leans in close, lowering his voice. “The only person making a scene right now is you, now if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to introduce Evan to Aunt Amy, she seems to have been cornered by some of Dad’s old poker buddies and looks like she could use rescuing.”
He adjusts his suddenly sweaty grip on Evan’s hand, and after an encouraging squeeze, they join the rest of the mourners.
Amy gives them both big hugs, and quiet thanks for getting her away from Phil. They all wander over to Jason and his girlfriend Steph, she’s an entomologist he’s been dating for eight years and Amy keeps dropping unsubtle hints about how funerals always make her think about weddings and new life. Tommy and Jason share a commiserating eyeroll while Evan and Steph start talking about tapeworms.
All things considered, it’s a pretty great funeral.
–
Tommy pulls off Evan’s spent cock with a wet pop. His knees are killing him, his jaw is aching, and his face is a ruin of tears and more snot than he wants to admit, but it’s worth it for the blissed out expression on Evan’s face.
“That was, wow,” Evan giggles, flopping a lazy hand in Tommy’s direction. “I’m gonna need you to come up here if you want me to return the favor, cuz I don’t think I’m moving for three to five business days.”
Tommy chuckles, mouthing absently at Evan’s inner thigh. “That’s okay,” he says, grinning at the weak groan Evan gives out. “I already took care of myself, you were very inspirational.”
“Aww,” Evan pouts. “That’s my favorite part.” He tugs Tommy up, so they can both collapse across the sofa. “Don’t give me that eyebrow,” he says, tapping Tommy between the eyes.
“Well, we’ve been sleeping together again for a couple months now,” Tommy kisses Evan, light and familiar. “The chances are good that you’ll get your hands on my dick again soon.”
“Mmm, true,” Evan says, turning his head sleepily into the cushion. “The benefits of a reliable booty call.”
Tommy’s heart sinks. These last months since Bobby’s funeral, they had fallen back into bed, and back into old habits, with each other. Truly unprecedented amounts of sex and almost no talking.
“Is that all this is?” Tommy stills, he didn’t mean to ask the question out loud.
–
Tommy sits up, looking for his underwear. There are some conversations that simply cannot be had naked with come and lube dribbling out of your ass, and since he probably won’t be able to do anything about the latter for a while, he can at least sort out the former.
“Tommy,” Evan starts.
“I’m not leaving, I’m getting dressed.” Tommy spots his boxers, or someone’s boxers, and quickly shimmies into them. They cut tight across his hips and ride too high on his thigh, so he definitely grabbed the wrong pair, but he’s deciding not to worry about that right now.
“I know we need to talk,” Tommy says, sitting back on the bed. “I’m just figuring out where to start.”
“Start with why you called me today. I thought you had plans with Lucy?” Evan doesn’t search for his clothes, but he does cover himself with the blanket in deference to the change in conversational tone.
“Yeah, I did. Fuck she’s gonna be pissed.” Tommy resists the urge to look at his texts and see just how much trouble he’s in. “I got a call, from my uncle. My father died.”
–
Evan sits up, exhaustion falling away like a cloak. “That’s not, I didn’t mean it like that,” Evan says.
“Then how did you mean it?” Tommy demands
“I meant…I- fuck, Tommy. I don’t know,” Evan groans. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
Feeling braver than he ever has in his life, Tommy tentatively takes Evan’s hand. “You don’t know what I want from you,” he repeats, confirming.
“Not a fucking clue.”
“Well that’s a coincidence, because I don’t know what you want from me,” Tommy says, chest tight. He feels torn, caught between laughing and throwing up.
“I want what I’ve always wanted,” Evan says, running his free hand up Tommy’s arm to clasp the back of his neck, pulling Tommy close. “I want you to stay.”
“I want that too,” Tommy stares into Evan’s eyes, searching. “I want us to be more than just a convenient fuck.”
“We are, you are! Tommy, you’re- you’re everything.” Evan rests his forehead against Tommy’s, breathing the same air. “I love you.”
Tommy startles, smacking Evan’s nose with his chin as he jerks away then back in.
“Ow!” “Fuck!” They both cry out.
“Sorry, sorry, are you okay?” Tommy cups Evan’s face.
“Yeah,” Evan laughs. “It was a glancing blow.”
“Fuck,” Tommy says again. “I mean. Sorry, I love you too, sorry.”
Evan stills, his eyes shiny, either with emotion or because his face is still smarting from their collision. “You love me?”
“Of course I do, Evan,” Tommy tenderly places a kiss on the bridge of Evan’s nose. “You terrify me but you make me want to be brave,” he confesses. “I’ve never loved anyone or anything the way I love you.”
Evan smiles, wrapping his arms around Tommy. “Good talk,” he says, muffled against his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. “We should do this more often.”
–
“And that’s when I called you. I’m not upset that he’s dead, that part’s,” Tommy shrugs. “Inconsequential. I’m just pissed that, even dead, he still thought he could control my life. So,” Tommy smiles at Evan. “Do you want to crash my asshole father’s funeral?”