TOMAS.
And maybe that’s exactly what he needed, Juno was exactly what he needed. Tomas was just so fucking lucky, to have someone follow after him and hold him, to have someone that puts him first, to have someone that cared. Tomas nuzzled his forehead to Juno’s, a simple thank you, for everything. “It-.. I guess, it’s relieving,” not that Tomas would choose to do that every time from now on. It still wasn’t exactly wise. But Tomas couldn’t deny that some small part of him underneath all the fear, and guilt and doubts, it did feel good. “Momma Benson’s intuition I bet,” Tomas chuckled at the lovely imagination of Juno and his mother, bonding over- maybe not so much cooking, but over a lot of food. Tomas tried to hold back the laugh that almost came out as a choke at the idea that Julian was emotionally constipated. And here the two of them were with no grip on any of their emotions. “I- I know.. you’re right, he was.. nice about it,” as nice as Julian could go.
“Just means I haven’t fed you enough,“ he wiggled the forkful of cake in front of Juno before letting him have it. Tomas has had his bad days, bad dishes, bad ideas, but he used to always try to keep them away from Juno, and maybe he didn’t have to anymore. "We can just bring it back home later then,” perhaps it was just a day for everyone, reshoots didn’t seem like a happy occasion and maybe cake just wasn’t a good idea today. Tomas let their fingers intertwine, he could feel the trembles settle down as he settled further into Juno, “yeah, better.. thank you,” running his thumb in small circles over the back of Juno’s hand, I love you so much, “I should go back to set soon- we’re starting to shoot in a bit, I think.” Tomas softly sniffed and sighed, pulling the end of his shirt up to clean up the mess on his face, “Thanks for coming here– to me.. do you- want to stay?”
“Yeah, it’s good to get it all off your chest,” Juno smiled, gentle, hand still stroking through Tomas’ hair as their foreheads touched. He wished he’d never pushed Tomas that far, but it was progress, at least. “All Southern mommas have it. Especially about food.” And perhaps he was a disaster in the kitchen, but cooking with his momma, the screen doors open to let in a rare cool breeze, was one of his happiest memories. Tomas’ little laugh was all he needed to hear, reassurance that they were getting somewhere. “Julian was nice? Are you sure he was feeling okay?” It was an easy joke to make, especially when all Juno knew of Julian was his reputation, and his anger. “He must really care about you if he manages to be civil to you.”
“Or maybe I just have low standards,” he grinned, “I’ll eat anything you put in front of me, you know.” Especially if it was as delicious as the cake. “Mmm, that sounds nice. We can have our own little birthday dinner.” From experience, re-shoot day was often tiring enough to put paid to big plans -- perhaps that was just Juno, but he suspected the picnic would have to wait. “You’re welcome, kitten.” At least he’d had a chance to make up for earlier, silently promising that wouldn’t happen again. “There’s no rush,” Juno murmured, reaching up to brush away the last vestiges of tears on Tomas’ cheeks, planting two gentle kisses on the newly-unblemished skin. “If I’m allowed to, after that.” He couldn’t help feeling like he was more trouble than he was worth on Julian’s set -- but yes, he wanted to stay, wanted to support Tomas. “You know I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see you in that costume.” A soft smile, recalling how gorgeous Tomas looked in Emiliano’s silks.











