I've been tagged over the last several days by @beanarie, @firehose118, @apollabarnes, @leashybebes, @cecilyv, @devirnis, @wee-fuckin-woo, and I was too busy working on a big presentation to write or post anything. But the presentation went off without a hitch, so now I'm freeeeee.
Here's a new bit from my angsty wip! It takes place earlier in the story, before shit starts getting real.
Buck drops his head back against the cabinet door he's sitting against with a thud. "When we were… when we were together, at any point during that time, did you think I was—like, was I too much for you?"
"Too much," Tommy echoes thoughtfully, then clears his throat again.
The deep hum that shivers over the line gives him the kind of thrill that he used to get whenever Tommy would sneak up and wrap his arms around Buck from behind. Buck had never been with someone bigger than him, and the thrilling novelty of it made him feel like he was on the best kind of rollercoaster drop every time. It never wore off. Sometimes at night he rolls himself into his sheets so tightly that it's easy to pretend it's not fabric holding him but flesh.
"Evan," Tommy murmurs, so fond that it's almost physically painful to hear it. "A week after you no homo'd me in front of Eddie, you came out to your sister, invited me to her wedding, and then made out with me in front of your entire family."
"Right." Mortification fills his cheeks with the kind of fire that comes from throwing water on burning grease. "O-Okay, thanks."
"For our third date…" Tommy pauses and swallows again. "You took me to that bug exhibit at the Science Center. We were there for four hours, and at least one of those was spent talking about centipedes. Only centipedes."
"Yep, got it," Buck forces out through the humiliation. He'd had so much fun that day. The idea that Tommy loathed every second of it makes him want to die. Why didn't Tommy ever say anything? Buck took him to that exhibit twice more before it left the museum and Tommy never said boo about it.
"You bought a human corpse and then made me drive two counties over so you could have a funeral for it." Humor overrides the weird rasp in Tommy's voice. "You made me put on a waistcoat. It was 84 degrees that day, Evan."
Buck rolls his eyes toward the ceiling and appeals to whatever deity might be listening to kick up another lightning storm and finish him off. "Tommy, I said I get it—"
"You were so much. You are so much," Tommy breathes. "But, Evan, you've never been too much."
No pressure tags for everyone who tagged me first, plus @screamlet, @liminalmemories21, @freneticfloetry, @politenotice, @dharmaavocado, @setmeatopthepyre, @ambernotember, @beefcakekinard, @trilliath, @epiphainie, @mugsywrites, @adiprose, @thegingerparty, @geddyqueer, and @station18908
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