Got any more migraine Tommy written? There’s simply not enough on ao3!
im on holiday rn, and what better way to spend my time than with a drink at the pool, writing migraine tommy. enjoy nonnie <3
Tommy is about to change out of his flight suit when he feels the tightness in his jaw, and he curses his entire bloodline (his family is full of irredeemable assholes, so he doesn't feel too bad) as he lets his head thump onto the cold metal of his locker door.
He's been looking forward to this evening—Evan had offered to make dinner for them, and Tommy was ready for a night in with good company, good dinner, and good sex. The thought had kept him sane through his 48h shift.
So, a migraine isn't on his agenda today. He simply doesn't want to deal with it. This thing between Evan and him… It’s supposed to be fun. Tommy isn't supposed to bring this kind of baggage into the relationship, for Evan’s sake as well as his own. It’s generally not something other people love to deal with. He isn't something other people like to deal with, when he’s like this: clingy, sensitive, teary, too much. Normally, he has himself under control, he can be lowkey; but once a migraine hits, he becomes this high-maintenance monster that’s hard to deal with.
All in all, Tommy really doesn't need this right now.
He opens his locker and goes through it almost frantically, looking for his meds. He’s been keeping some in his work locker for years now—usually, if he gets to be man behind after taking them, he can get through his shift just fine. Sure, he feels like he's been run over by a bus every time after, but it’s not the end of the world. At least he can get by alright, without being a burden on anybody else. The day off after a shift like this is usually spent in bed, but it’s fine, really.
He’s gotten used to it by now.
He finds the container of his meds after far too long (how come they always seem to hide away when he most needs them?) but his relief is short-lived, because as he screws it open, he looks directly at the bottom. There is nothing left. He shakes it once for good measure. Nothing happens.
“God fucking damnit,” he mutters into his locker, and of course that’s when the door opens behind him.
leave a comment if you want to be tagged in more snippets and/or the finished fic! love you!!
