#symmgil

[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

Thomastair Modern AU

Chapter 19

Chapter List

Read on Ao3!!

Tw/cw breakup, crying, angst, that bastard (a.k.a Elias)

This chapter’s kinda confusing but I think it makes sense. Enjoy! (Idk why I am saying that it's literally all angst)

Lyrics from On the Wings of Love by Jeffrey Osborne

Seriously, who the fuck looks good in a fucking Pizza Pizza hat?

Alastair, apparently.

“That is the glummest tune I have ever heard. You are making my walls sad.”

Thomas’s eyes drifted to the mug of steaming tea Matthew placed on the piano, before slowly turning his head away towards the other boy. Matthew’s soft smile faltered slightly. Thomas asked, “You’re devastated, aren’t you.”

Alastair smirked, and Thomas’ heart did a little skip looking at the dimple that formed over the left side of his mouth. He hoped he wasn’t blushing.

“I’m… confused.” Matthew took a seat beside Thomas on the piano bench. “Alastair liked you, and you really liked him. I don’t understand what happened.”

Alastair led Thomas to where the skates were lined up. He glanced down at Thomas’ feet and laughed. “What none of them fit?”

“Alastair has personal things going on,” Thomas said. He didn’t further elaborate. Matthew bit on his lip, but didn’t say anything either. Minutes passed, and Thomas’ thought drifted unwillingly to the past.

Matthew whooped and punched a fist in the air. “This call for celebration! Thomas, the only virgin left in the Merry Thieves, just had his first kiss!” Thomas glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Alastair, surrounded by his friends, sent him a smirk and went back to his conversation. Thomas blushed. “Matthew,” he hissed. “A little lower please.”

…

“Good Lord.” Alastair slid his hands up Thomas’ chest and onto his shoulders, tracing their outline delicately. “He pretends he doesn’t know.”

“That you love my shoulders?”

“No, that I’m the fucking FBI,” Alastair deadpanned. “Yes that I love your shoulders.”

…

Thomas grabbed Alastair's hand. "I like Esfandiyār. I'm going to call you that from now on."

Alastair shook his head. "Please don't."

"No, no, I will," Thomas said, stubborn.

Alastair turned to face Thomas. He was trying to hide his smile. "Please—”

“Shut up, Esfandiyār,” he said, and kissed him on the cheek.

…

“Where do you want it?” Thomas pushed up his sleeve and pointed to an area on his arm. Alastair touched it lightly and murmured, “No, that won’t do.” His fingers trailed down Thomas’ arm and touched the sensitive skin on the underside of his forearm. “What about here?”

Thomas glanced up at Alastair. “I like it,” he said, voice coming out a little husky. Alastair laughed.

Oh, Alastair, Thomas thought now. If only he understood that I’d gladly be roped into any situation, if it meant being with him. I couldn’t care less.

“He’s trying to protect you?” Matthew asked, and Thomas realized he’d spoken the last piece out loud. “From his personal situation?”

He hesitated, but then gave in. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about this since it’d happened. So, a month and two day exactly. “It’s his father.” He pressed his palms into his eyes, holding his head in his hands. “Or his ex. Or both. I don’t know.”

Alastair was unusually quite. Thomas knew he thought he hadn’t heard the conversation he’d had with his father on his cell, had thought he’d been asleep. And he hadn’t heard all of it, just Alastair’s side. But it had been enough to guess it was the reason it looked like Alastair was holding back tears.

Alastair sat on the bed with his back to Thomas. He hadn’t turned the lights on, and Thomas could only see the outline of him in the midnight blue darkness of the room. Thomas pushed the covers off him and sat up. “Alastair? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The reply came after Alastair realized Thomas was up, delivered in a voice barley above a whisper, without Alastair turning around. “Go back to sleep."

Thomas didn't. He moved to sit beside Alastair. "You can tell me," he said softly.

A silence stretched between them. "You heard my phone call," Alastair said. He didn't sound accusatory.

"Some of it," Thomas admitted. "Was it your father?" His voice had turned quite. His voice always became quite when he was very upset, and nothing upset him more than seeing Alastair upset. "What did he say? Alastair, you know he can’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” At that Alastair started to cry. Thomas felt confusion and worry spread through him. His throat felt tight. “Esfandiyār?”

“Tom, can we take a break? Please?” Alastair's words came him hiccups between his tears. He sounding like he was pleading.

The confusion turned to hurt. The tightness in his throat spread down to his heart. Thomas felt like he had slipped. “What?”

"It's… it's complicated," Thomas told Matthew. "You know how we were using your place while he looked for a place of his own?"

"My father's decided to stop paying for my education."

Thomas was confused at the turn in conversation, and he was still hurt by what Alastair had said earlier. Although Alastair himself didn't look any better. If not he looked worse. Thomas asked quietly, "All of it?"

Alastair shook his head. "He said he'll pay for the rest of my science undergrad. But not the rest." Not the residence. Not the medical school. Not the dance. Not the dance, which was Alastair's life. Alastair covered his face with his hands.

"Hey," Thomas said softly, gently prying Alastair's hands away from his face and holding them in his own. "Look at me." Alastair looked at him with red rimmed eyes. "You'll be fine, Esfandiyār. We'll find a way to pay for the rest, there are scholarships and bursaries and—"

Alastair cut him off, shaking his head fiercely. "You don't get it. Without my father I can't… I won't be able to…" His voice was approaching hysteria, and he broke off as tears spilled from his eyes again. Thomas held him in a tight embrace, and Alastair cried onto his bare chest, and Thomas realized he didn't get it. He didn't get how it wasn't just the finances and the money that bothered Alastair, and that it was his father's control over his life, and his choices, and how he treated it like a game. Because Alastair understood how he depended on his father. And his father understood this too, and used it to his advantage to shape Alastair into the person he wanted him to be, not who Alastair wanted to be.

And maybe it was Alastair's fault for always talking about his family sarcastically, never telling Thomas about it seriously, but it was also Thomas' fault for not realizing how deep Alastair hurt, and for not finding out. Thomas felt his own eyes turn hot, and he squeezed Alastair tighter, not knowing how else to help.

When Alastair pulled back his eyes were still wet. "I need his help," he whispered, and in the four words Thomas saw how much Alastair hated his dad, heard how much Alastair felt that he had no control his own life. He understood what Alastair was saying, but he needed to make sure.

Thomas asked quietly, "Does your father know about us?" He saw Alastair bite his lip, and that told him everything.

"He can't blackmail you out of our relationship," Thomas said. He realized his grip on Alastair's hands were tight. "You don't have to listen to—"

"I do," Alastair whispered.

"My life's messed up," Alastair said. "I don't want to bring you into it."

"I don't care if it's messed up. I won't leave you." Thomas heard his voice break. "I'm not leaving you." He brought his hands up to caress Alastair's face, and looked into his dark eyes that were glossy from crying. "I love you, Esfandiyar."

"Tom," Alastair pleaded, shutting his eyes tight. "Please don't. I… I don't." He brought his hands up and took Thomas' hand's of him, and Thomas felt his heart flop in his chest. Not that he doesn't love me, Thomas thought, because he had to think that. He couldn't think of the other option. He doesn't want to have to convince me, breakup with me whatever the cost. Because he will, if it comes to that. He'll tell me lies so we won't be together. Because if there's anything about Alastair, it's that he cares for others more than himself. His heart's just that big.

But I have to bet mine's bigger.

He wasn't sure how much Matthew understood. He voice hadn't been that clear, covered by his hands, and anyways he didn't think he was talking in proper sentences, more just talking about whatever came to him mind. The silence was loud when he stopped talking. Finally, Matthew said, softly, "Shit," and Thomas had the urge to laugh. Yeah. Shit.

His emotions were all jumbled, and they kept giving him random memories with no order.

Alastair smiled. “Will you let me rest my head in your lap and tell me a bedtime story?” he teased.

…

"Me and Kamala still haven't found a place yet."

"There's still a lot of time,” Thomas said. “And I know you’d probably say no, but I would lend you money if you needed it.”

Alastair was quite. Then he took a deep breath. “I know. And I would say no.”

…

Alastair walked up to Thomas and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Thomas’ heart did a little thump.

…

"I'm… I'm moving in with my parents…"

…

Alastair pulled his head back from Thomas’. He was holding back a smile. “You sweat when you see me with my shirt off?”

…

"… and… I think we should take a break."

…

Alastair turned to Thomas, whole face smiling; his hands stroked the hedgehog where it rested on his lap. "You did not have to get me a hedgehog."

…

"Doesn't a break assume that things will eventually go back to normal?" Thomas asked, his voice quite. Alastair made a strangled noise.

…

"And Thomas?" It was Alastair. Thomas turned around.

"You will dance with me. Someday."

…

"I'm sorry, Tom," Alastair whispered, his forehead pressed to Thomas', eyes shut tight. He'd stopped crying, but his face was tearstained and Thomas' own eyes were misty. "I'm sorry."

And a last memory, maybe the worst.

Cordelia laughed. “Write him a letter in Persian,” she said. “He’ll like that.”

After he and Cordelia had said goodbye and parted ways, Thomas thought about what she had said. He wanted to write something meaningful to Alastair, something that would express just how much he loved him. He wanted Alastair to know that it didn’t bother him when he was in bad moods, or when some part of his past life with his unnamed ex brought up new pains or reopened old ones, or when Alastair became quiet after talks with his father. He wanted him to know he loved him anyway, everyway, and all the way.

He remembered a day Alastair had been sitting at the piano, practicing a popular song for a musical. The regular musician couldn’t attend and since he wasn’t preforming Alastair had volunteered to fill in for them.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it goes,” Thomas had said after listening to him play for a moment.

“I’m pretty sure it is.” Alastair had played the next verse. “Sing it,” he’d said. “Then I can follow better.”

“You’ll laugh.”

Alastair had sent him a cheeky grin. “No I won’t.”

After further coaxing Thomas had begun to sing, and Alastair to play. The music mixed nicely, maybe not perfectly on key but neither of them noticed or cared.

When they stopped Alastair had looked at Thomas, a smile on his face. “I love you.”

Thomas had smiled back. “I love you.”

Now Thomas smiled to himself. He knew what he would write.

Still grinning, Thomas took his hands out from behind his back. “I didn’t know what you liked,” he said, handing Alastair the roses, “so I went with the classics."

Alastair took the flowers, a smile on his face. “You didn’t have to get me these.”

“I wanted to.”

It’d taken him a good afternoon to translate the lyrics. He didn’t know who to write in Persian script, so he’d written it phonetically. He was pretty sure there were a few mistakes, but he’d tried his best.

Dear Esfandiyar, he’d written in Persian.

Just smile for me

And let the day begin

You are the sunshine

That lights my heart within

And I'm sure that you're

An angel in disguise

Come take my hand and

Together we will rise

On the wings of love

Up and above the clouds

The only way to fly

Is on the wings of love

On the wings of love

Only the two of us

Together flying high

Flying high up on the wings of love

I love you, Esfandiyar.

“Open the card.”

Curious, Alastair wiped his hands and took out the gold envelope from amongst the flowers. His smile widened as he read it. He looked up at Thomas, who was smiling just as wide. “Damn it, Thomas,” he said before stepping on his tiptoes to give him a kiss. Thomas laughed against his mouth.

“Tom?” Matthew asked again. He placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Tom?” He looked up at Matthew, but his vision was too blurry. He realized his hands were wet with tears. "Oh, Tom," Matthew said, and then Thomas was engulfed in a tight hug as his tears continued to spill.

——

In a house some distance away, Alastair threw a dart against the old boards of his old room. It vibrated between two boards, then slid down the length of the wall, landing on top of his dresser. He took ten seconds to think of whether he should stand up and retrieve it or just stare reflectively at the ceiling. Finally, against his better judgement, he stood up and crossed the room. The dart had landed on a familiar golden envelope.

Yup, he thought drily, picking the dart up and trying to push away those good memories. Definitely against his better judgement.

————

lmk if you want to be added or removed!

@dark-artifices-only @taoxus @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @noah-herondale-lightwood @proofthatshithappend @ddepressedbookworm @sohalia01 @writeordie-4 @thelastfunctioningbraincell @totalbookmaniac @melanielocke @lifewouldbebetteronmars @the-enchanted-dreamer @drunkonimagination @josiecarstairs @thestarkster1465 @livingformyself @they-ca-llme-princess @life-through-the-eyes-of @starlight-in-my-eyes @afunkygoodtime @tessherongraystairs @gabtapia @sophiesminas @the-ethereal-aura @styxdrawings

[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

A Thomastair Modern AU

Chapter 18

Chapter List

Read on Ao3!!

enjoy!! oh and also thank you @writeordie-4 for letting me use Tora! <3

"Welcome to Blackthorn residence," Matthew greeted in a deep voice, gesturing with a graceful sweep of his arm to the entrance behind him. "Leave your things in the foyer and please enjoy your stay."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "How much is Grace paying you to not set the house on fire like last time?"

Matthew sent him a sly grin. Snow had been gently falling from the clouds for some time now, and his formal dress was dusted in a thin layer of it. "I am simply being a nice co-host. And it was only the table that caught on fire," he added for Alastair's benefit. "Or rather, the tablecloth. But regardless, there is no bribery involved."

"Right," drawled a voice. "I'm giving you a hundred dollars out of the pure charity of my heart." The three of them turned their heads to an open window on the second floor of Jesse's house, where Grace was leaning out the window. She waved to them, and Thomas and Alastair grinned and waved back while Matthew muttered under his breath, a crooked smile on his face. "Come inside," Grace called. "Almost everyone is here."

Inside, the house was a bundle of decorations and lights, sweet smelling foods and cheesy Christmas music. Alastair was immediately swept away to a couch by Lucie, who wanted his opinion on something in her book, and Thomas gave Matthew a grin when he noticed Tora helping Jesse hang up a wreath above the fireplace, which Matthew pointedly ignored, instead flopping down beside Grace and pretended to be occupied on his phone. Grace winked at Thomas.

Kamala and Eugenia arrived a few minutes later, and Lucie waved them over to where she was talking to Alastair. Pretty soon there were playful shouts between Eugenia and Alastair, and Matthew, who'd never sat out of an argument, joined Alastair's side, until Kamala added her voice and backed up Eugenia and Grace yelled at them all to stop ruining her party with their petty arguments, at which everyone started attacking Grace. Normal stuff.

James and Cordelia were late to arrive, but they were forgiven when they brought big bags filled with gifts and party favours with them. Matthew stood up and gave James an enthusiastic hug, who laughed and asked him how Paris was. Thomas saw Cordelia hug the girls and then turn to Alastair, who scowled and turned away. Amidst their conversation in Persian Thomas caught bits of an apology from Cordelia. He turned away to talk to Christopher and Jesse, but later he saw Cordelia smack Alastair lightly, her face embarrassed, and Alastair grin and muss her hair, so he assumed he'd forgiven her.

After a while of idle chatting the group opted for dinner in the living room. Which, since Matthew had been in charge of food, was really just a bunch of takeout and candy, but no one was complaining.

They opened presents as they ate. Thomas caught a large gift box Eugenia threw to him. She gave him a shit-eating grin. "From me and Kamala."

A moment later Thomas felt himself turn red and started moaning in Spanish, while Eugenia was laughing and talking back in a sweet tone. Alastair, who was resting his head on Thomas' lap, picked up the discarded box, took a peek inside, and threw the 100 pack of condoms at Kamala's head, who yelped and ducked while the whole room erupted in laughter. "I wish I'd thought of that," Matthew said, and Thomas threw a candy cane at him, which Matthew caught out of the air and unwrapped the plastic from, grinning as he broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth.

When all the presents were opened Thomas turned to Lucie, who bounced out of her seat and raced up the stairs, coming back a moment later with a brown bundle in her hands. She approached Alastair with a smile. "Thomas made me keep him here so you wouldn't find him."

"Him?" Alastair echoed, sitting up. Everyone leaned close as Lucie deposited the bundle in Alastair's hands, and the hedgehog stretched and looked up sleepily at them before curling back into a ball and going to sleep.

"Aww," Cordelia said. She turned to James accusingly. "When do I get a pet?" The group started to chuckle as James held up his hands and protested.

"How did I not even know he was here?" Grace asked. She'd come to sit beside Alastair, and was stroking the hedgehog.

"Jesse knew," Lucie said. Grace cast a hurt expression in her brother's direction, who just shrugged and grinned back.

Jesse and Lucie squabbled over which movie to watch as Grace cleared away the takeout boxes, Matthew graciously standing up to help her after James said something to make him blush red. Alastair turned to Thomas, whole face smiling; his hands stroked the hedgehog where it rested on his lap. "You did not have to get me a hedgehog."

"True, but you'll just have to accept that I got you one anyways." Alastair made a fondly exasperated noise and leaned against Thomas, settling between Thomas' arms.

Jesse won the fight and put on How The Grinch Stole Christmas; Lucie went to sulk beside Thomas and Alastair. "We should have watched the animated one." She licked her lollipop sadly.

She cheered up however when Matthew started singing along with the Grinch, matching each sinister note with accuracy. Tora, who was sitting beside him, was laughing, her ears sparkling with the jewels Matthew had given her. It was getting late; the sun had set long ago. Grace had fallen asleep beside Christopher on the floor and Eugenia and Kamala were spread out on a couch together, wrapped in blankets and talking in murmured voices. Outside, the snow had begun to blow harder, but inside remained warm and comfortable.

Around midnight Lucie, still very awake, left to make hot chocolate, Jesse following her a moment later. Twenty minutes later they came back, Jesse holding a tray filled with mugs and Lucie marshmallows bags. "That took you two very long," Matthew noted, and Lucie blushed furiously.

"Careful, Math," James said as Matthew's face split into a grin. "That's my sister you're teasing."

"And my brother," Grace mumbled from where she was still half asleep, head resting against Christopher.

"You are all very not good at being siblings," Eugenia called from her couch. "If it were Thomas I would have gladly joined Matthew's tease."

"I would have too, obviously," Alastair said from Thomas' lap. "Even if it were at my expense." Matthew whooped his approval amidst Thomas' groans.

The movie finished and Lucie squealed when she went to put on the other version of the Grinch. Matthew glanced at his watch, and then at Jesse; Jesse turned to James, who gave an exasperated look at Matthew but smiled and nodded. Jesse left the room, and moments later arrived with small flutes of wine.

Matthew took his and raised it to the ceiling. "Merry Christmas!" The others repeated his cheer and raised their glasses or mugs of hot chocolate, clinking them and taking a drink

"Matthew Fairchild!" Lucie gasped. Matthew had clinked glasses with her a little too hard, and her flute had shattered, splattering her clothes with red and soaking the carpet with wine. After a small silence Matthew turned to Grace. "And a happy new year?" Grace gave him a disapproving look as Jesse threw him a rag.

"Wait," Alastair said. His expression was one Thomas couldn't decipher. He turned to Matthew. "What did you say your last name was?

"Fairchild." Matthew looked confused; everyone turned to look at Alastair. Thomas looked around and his and Kamala's eyes locked; he saw a flicker of realization on Kamala's face before she schooled her features and looked away.

After a moment shook Alastair head and smiled. "Never mind." Matthew sent him a confused smile and proceeded to clean up the mess he'd made, and Lucie brought everyone's attention to the television, which was still playing the movie.

"Hey." Alastair tapped Thomas' wrist. "Let me out. I've got to use the washroom." Thomas let go of Alastair, and Alastair placed the still-sleeping hedgehog on the couch arm before standing up and leaving the room. Grace watched him go, and a moment later left the room as well. Christopher glanced back at Thomas and Thomas just gave him a small shrug, as if to say everything’s fine. He wished he believed that.

Bonus Alastair POV!

The wind outside had gotten harsh, blowing snow through the night in large sweeping gusts around Jesse's backyard. Alastair watched it from the safety of the hooded porch.

After the unexpected revelation he'd seen the sympathetic look Kamala had given him, and suddenly he'd wanted to get away, just for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Kamala's concern, he knew it was genuine, but he just needed some time to calm down, to think without all the others looking on.

And there was a lot to think about. Not just the indirect mention of Charles, which was unpleasant and annoying in the way his name always was to Alastair's ear, but others things as well, things that had been bothering him for a while now. School fees. His and Kamala's lack of ability to find affordable housing. His father.

Thomas.

Well, not Thomas. Not exactly.

His thoughts drifted off as a small shadow appeared beside his own. Alastair turned and saw Grace behind him, eyes slightly puffy from sleep but otherwise alert. "I was just getting some fresh air," Alastair said automatically as Grace opened the glass door and stepped out onto the porch.

"Me too." Grace went to sit on the porch sofa, rubbing her temples with her fingers. The wind blew her long white hair around her face. "I think I might vomit from the lovely concoction of wine and hot chocolate. Stay with me for a bit?" Alastair silently went to sit beside her, unsure of what to say. Out of all of them he'd expected Thomas to follow him, or Kamala, or Cordelia, or maybe even Lucie or Matthew. Not Grace.

After some minutes of silence Grace dropped her hands from her head, taking a band from her wrist to tie back her hair. "Cordelia told me she abandoned you to a weekend with your parents," she said. "If Jesse had left me I would have murdered him. Of course," she added offhandedly, finishing her hair, "if it had been me there would have been no way I'd visit my mother."

As always when talk turned to himself with people he didn't know well, Alastair diverted the topic. He remembered Thomas telling him a little about Grace, and why she was staying with her brother. "You don't get along, I take it?"

Grace bit her lip before responding. Alastair suspected she liked talking about her family as much as he did. "Yeah," she said. "Something like that."

Silence dropped between them, until Grace said, "If you don't mind me asking, did you recognize Matthew's last name? Do you know his brother?"

Wow. Leave it to Grace to have everything figured out in a split second. Well, almost everything.

"Matthew's brother?" Alastair said, playing oblivious. "I'm not sure if I know who his brother is, but the name Fairchild did remind me of someone I'd used to know." There. None of that was exactly a lie.

Grace looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook her head. "I'd just thought you might have known him. He's a couple years older than you and used to go to the university. He's a teacher assistant there now. But I could be wrong," she added, though Alastair could tell she didn't believe it.

He asked, "Does Matthew's brother look a lot like him?" As if he didn't know.

Grace snorted. "Thank goodness, no. Charles a bit of a prick if you know what I mean, acting all superior and dignified and all. I am so glad his career in politics is not working well for him," she added, grinning mischievously. Alastair tried not to exaggeratedly nod his head in agreement, instead sending her a small smile.

"But," she added, "he can be nice, if he wants to, I guess. Though it always seems like his kindness masks another motive. You know what I mean?" She rested her eyes on Alastair, seemingly waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," Alastair said, unable to hide the tiny amount of bitterness that had crept into his voice. He thought back to the club Kamala had taken him and Thomas to. "I know what you mean."

Grace stretched her arms in the air and stood up. "Well, I feel better now. Are you going to come back, or stay here for a little longer?"

"I think I'll come back."

In the house, Alastair paused at the living room door. Kamala and Eugenia were passed out on the sofa, and Matthew was talking to Tora in hushed tones, who was resting her head on his shoulder. Lucie on the other hand was waving her hands in the air and apparently giving Jesse a detailed analyzation of the movie, though Jesse was just shaking his head and laughing quietly. And then there was Thomas, who's eyes were glued to the hedgehog, which had woken up and was sniffling around in his gentle hands. The sight sent a warm tug through Alastair's heart. He headed for his boyfriend, cuddling up beside him and resting his head on his large shoulder. Thomas' arm automatically went around him, and Alastair breathed deeply, inhaling the warmth and comfort that came from being with Thomas.

The fresh air had not helped. His problems were still unfixed. But, if he tried, he could fix them. One by one. He didn't know if he'd have the courage to go through with his plans, but he had to try. For his sake. For Thomas' sake. Sighing, infinitely tired, he closed his eyes and buried his face into Thomas. Just once more, he thought.

"Merry Christmas, Esfandiyar," Thomas whispered into his ear, placing a gentle kiss on his temple. Alastair felt another tug in his heart, but this time it was tinged with dread.

"Merry Christmas, Tom," he whispered back.

———

yes the next chapter is breakup

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!

@dark-artifices-only @taoxus @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @noah-herondale-lightwood @proofthatshithappend @ddepressedbookworm @sohalia01 @writeordie-4 @thelastfunctioningbraincell @totalbookmaniac @melanielocke @lifewouldbebetteronmars @the-enchanted-dreamer @drunkonimagination @josiecarstairs @thestarkster1465 @livingformyself @they-ca-llme-princess @life-through-the-eyes-of @starlight-in-my-eyes @afunkygoodtime @tessherongraystairs @gabtapia @sophiesminas @the-ethereal-aura @styxdrawings

[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

Chapter 17

Chapter List

Read on Ao3!!

Another short chapter (the next ones might be a little longer when the ✨angst✨ comes)

Thomas turned down the brightness of his computer, sighing. His eyes hurt from staring at it for so long. He sent a quick text to Alastair, telling him to meet his at a nearby pizzeria, and packed up his things.

It seemed that exam season had snuck up on them. With only two weeks until the winter break, suddenly life was crowded with frequent study sessions, hours reviewing recorded lectures, and mugs and mugs of coffee.

At the pizzeria Thomas spotted Alastair in a booth, huddled up by the window on his phone. Thomas took a seat next to him and kissed the top of his head. “How are you?”

Alastair smiled up at him, looking a little tired. “Good.” He went back to looking at his phone.

A waitress came by and Thomas accepted a menu from her. “How was your studying?” he asked as he scanned the menu.

Alastair put down his phone and rolled his eyes. “Loads of fun.” He pointed to something on the menu and Thomas nodded, setting it down. “I hate study groups.”

“I would offer my help,” Thomas said, “but I don’t think it’d be much help, assuming we were studying.” Alastair grinned at him.

As the waitress left with their order Alastair's phone beeped. He picked it up, read the screen, and placed it back on the table. “This day just keeps getting better and better,” he murmured drily.

“What’s wrong?”

Alastair shook his head. “My parents want me and Layla to spend a weekend with them for Christmas."

“The same week as the Christmas party?” Matthew would be coming back for the break, and the group of friends had made plans to stay at Jesse’s. Alastair had been unanimously invited, and Kamala too, at Eugenia and Alastair’s insistence. Then whole group would be together.

“Yes, but just for the weekend, so it won’t interfere.” He stopped talking as a waiter came by with their drinks, soda’s for both. When he left Alastair added, “We usually do visit them each year.”

“But this year you don’t want to go?”

Alastair sighed. “I do. I want to see my mother. It’s just that Cordelia’s got to leave early, so she won’t be there on Sunday. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

A silence fell between them, and Thomas placed a hand on top of Alastair’s on the table. He asked, “Would you like me to come with you?”

This time the silence lasted longer. A waiter came over and dropped off their pizza. At last Alastair said, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” He wouldn’t look at Thomas. Thomas squeezed his hand; after a moment Alastair squeezed back.

After they had left the pizzeria, Thomas was putting the leftovers in the fridge when Alastair asked, “When will Matthew be coming back? When does his internship end?”

"Sometime during February." Alastair didn't say anything back, and Thomas closed the fridge to see him standing at the bookshelf in the living room, his back to Thomas as he straightened the books. He went and put his arms around Alastair. “What’s bothering you, love?”

Alastair said, "Me and Kamala still haven't found a place yet."

"There's still a lot of time,” Thomas said, arms still wrapped around Alastair. “And I know you’d probably say no, but I would lend you money if you needed it.”

Alastair was quite. Then he took a deep breath. “I know. And I would say no.”

“We’ll figure this out,” Thomas said. Alastair didn’t say anything back, but turned around and rested his head against Thomas' chest.

——

let me know if you want to be added or removed!!

@dark-artifices-only @walkerrenee @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @noah-herondale-lightwood @proofthatshithappend @ddepressedbookworm @sohalia01 @writeordie-4 @thelastfunctioningbraincell @totalbookmaniac @melanielocke @lifewouldbebetteronmars @the-enchanted-dreamer @drunkonimagination @josiecarstairs @thestarkster1465 @livingformyself @they-ca-llme-princess @life-through-the-eyes-of @starlight-in-my-eyes @afunkygoodtime @tessherongraystairs @gabtapia @sophiesminas @the-ethereal-aura @styxdrawings

[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

A Thomastair Modern AU

Chapter 16

Chapter List

Read on Ao3!!

Short, but enjoy!

Thomas was awoken when Alastair rolled over and elbowed him. Sorry,” Alastair murmured in his sleep.

A noise of acknowledgment came from Thomas mouth, and shifted closer to Alastair, eyes still closed. “Do you feel better?” he mumbled.

“Mhm.” Alastair rested his head on Thomas’ shoulder, bringing his face into his neck, and Thomas wrapped his arm around him. “Sorry again about yesterday.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Thomas said, and then asked: “You want to talk about it?”

“It… it was nothing. Just a fucking asshole being a fucking bitch,” Alastair said angrily. Thomas opened his eyes and pulled from back Alastair, looking into his face. “What happened?”

Alastair sighed. “I don’t know. It was…” —he sighed again— “I don’t know.”

“Did they touch you?”

Alastair shook his head silently. His fingers were drawing circles on Thomas’ skin. “It’s just, he came up to me and… and I got…” He didn’t say anything for a long time, and then added: “It was my ex.”

“Do I know him? Does he go to the university?”

Alastair closed his eyes and didn’t respond for a while. Then he said, quietly, “Sort of.” Thomas didn’t push him further, only hugged him tighter.

——

“I want to do something for Alastair,” Thomas said.

He and Cordelia were at a coffee shop, laptops and papers spread out on the table. Cordelia looked up from her laptop. “Like what?”

“I’m not sure.”

Cordelia pursed her lips and then took a sip of her coffee. “Well, Christmas is coming, you could get him something for that.”

“I’m going to get him something for Christmas, but I want to do something else for him too. Just because, you know?”

“Hmm.” Cordelia thought for a moment, and then grinned mischievously. “You could bake him something.”

“No,” Thomas said immediately, and Cordelia laughed. “Write him a letter in Persian,” she said. “He’ll like that.”

Thomas smiled, an idea forming in his mind. “I like that.”

——

When Thomas got home he was met by a delicious smell. He called out to Alastair, who called back from the kitchen. Thomas shrugged off his jacket as he walked across the apartment, a hand behind his back.

He put his things on a chair, ruffling in his bag. “How was your day?”

“Good.” Alastair added something to his pan, and it sizzled. “Yours?”

“Good.” He found what he was looking for and turned around so Alastair couldn’t see what he was doing. Then he turned back Alastair, hands behind his back. When he saw him he smiled. He knew Alastair hadn’t gone to work in the clothes he was wearing now, particularly the cropped top and arm fishnets.

Alastair was pretending to ignore Thomas’ stupid smile, but it got to be too much for him so he turned his head and said, “Yes?”

“I like your outfit,” Thomas said, still grinning. His hands were still behind his back, but he leaned forward to kiss Alastair’s cheek. Alastair flushed and grumbled, but Thomas saw him smile and he quickly kissed him back.

Still grinning, Thomas took his hands out from behind his back. “I didn’t know what you liked,” he said, handing Alastair the roses, “so I went with the classics.”

Alastair took the flowers, a smile on his face. “You didn’t have to get me these.”

“I wanted to. Open the card.”

Curious, Alastair wiped his hands and took out the gold envelope from amongst the flowers. He smile widened as he read it. He looked up at Thomas, who was smiling just as wide. “Damn it, Thomas,” he said before stepping on his tiptoes to give him a kiss. Thomas laughed against his mouth.

When they pulled apart Thomas asked, “What are you making?”

“Dinner.” He spooned the contents of the pan into two bowls and handed one to Thomas, and they sat down at the table, the flowers between them. As Alastair started to tell him about his day Thomas smiled, glad to be home.

Then he realized that had been the third time he’d thought of Alastair as home.

——

let me know if you want to be added or removed!!

@dark-artifices-only @walkerrenee @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @noah-herondale-lightwood @proofthatshithappend @ddepressedbookworm @sohalia01 @writeordie-4 @thelastfunctioningbraincell @totalbookmaniac @melanielocke @lifewouldbebetteronmars @the-enchanted-dreamer @drunkonimagination @josiecarstairs @thestarkster1465 @livingformyself @they-ca-llme-princess @life-through-the-eyes-of @starlight-in-my-eyes @afunkygoodtime @tessherongraystairs @gabtapia @sophiesminas @the-ethereal-aura @styxdrawings

[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

A Modern Thomastair AU

Chapter 15

Chapter List

Read on Ao3!

tw/cw panic(?) attack, off-page SA (unwanted touching)

enjoy!

“I still haven’t agreed to this,” Alastair grumbled.

Kamala had been frequently texting Alastair for the last hour, demanding Thomas and him meet her for to help her gather, quote unquote, necessary celebratory purchases.

Which was a shopping spree, of course.

The three walked into the local thrift shop, riding up in an elevator to get to the clothing departments. "Alastair, darling," Kamala said, turning to him. "I need to buy you gifts for Eid. It's mandatory. You need them."

“Eid is 5 months away,” Alastair said.

Kamala shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a head start.”

Alastair chuckled dryly. "Not to be a killjoy, but shouldn't we be saving up for our apartment?" They had been looking for a few weeks now but still hadn’t found anything affordable.

Kamala waved her hand. "One, it's a bonus from the café. Two, 'not to be a killjoy' that is the biggest bullshit I have ever heard when are you ever not a killjoy?" Alastair shrugged innocently, and Thomas had to hide his grin.

The elevator let them out at the top floor, and Kamala lead them through isles of clothes as she searched for gifts. She turned to them, holding an emerald green shirt to her chest. "You like?"

Alastair put his hands in his pockets. "Is this gift shopping suppose to include you?"

"I like it," Thomas said, at which Kamala gave him a wide smile and Alastair gave him evil glares. "You're not supposed to encourage her."

"Come on, Esfandiyar,” Thomas said, sending him a smile. “This could be fun."

"Alastair," Kamala said, putting her hands on her hips. "You don't get to complain. You never do anything fun."

“I do,” Alastair argued. “Just not” —he wrinkled his nose— “shopping.”

Kamala threw up her hands in exasperation, putting the shirt back on the rack. “Alastair, I know you like dressing up. I know you love when I do your makeup for your shows.”

“So?”

“So?” Kamala gestured to his clothes he was wearing; there was nothing wrong with them, but Thomas did see her point. Alastair did like dressing up.

Kamala took Alastair’s hands. “I don’t mean anything by it, but why don’t you wear clothes you like?”

Alastair looked down at his clothes. “I do like them,” he said, a little lamely. Kamala snorted, but not unkindly.

“Play along for me?” she asked. “Please? I’m buying everything, you and Tom don’t have to spend, and if you don’t like them we can return them. Okay?”

Alastair looked at Kamala, then at Thomas, then back at Kamala and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Kamala clapped her hands and gave Alastair a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, mere dil ka pyaar,” she said. “You won’t regret this.” Alastair rolled his eyes again, but he gave her a small smile.

Kamala went back to looking at the shirts, and Thomas slid up beside Alastair and took his hand. Alastair glanced up at him and smiled briefly. “If you still don’t want to be here we could run,” Thomas whispered under his breath.

He could feel Alastair’s fingers trail up to his tattoo; it had become a constant habit of his once it had healed. “No— it’s okay,” Alastair whispered back. “I want to. Plus it makes Kami happy.” Thomas squeezed his hand and Alastair smiled up at him, standing on his tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.

Kamala had been apparently talking to them the whole time. She turned around, holding a shirt that looked almost exactly like the one she showed them before. “—this one?” she finished. When she saw their incomprehensive faces she sighed wistfully. “I forgot how in love you two are. Come on.” She grabbed each of their hands. “Let’s go find you some clothes.”

“You make us sound naked,” Alastair said. Kamala laughed.

When Kamala had said she would buy everything, she meant it. As the three of them talked and browsed for clothes she refused to let Thomas take out his wallet. “It’s for Eid al-Fitr,” she explained. “It's part of tradition.”

“It’s a very apocryphal holiday,” Alastair said from where he was examining a row of pants. Kamala hit him lightly on the shoulder and took out a pair of pleated pants, showing them to Alastair; after a moment Alastair nodded, and Kamala added them to the bag of clothes for Alastair to try on. “What holidays do you celebrate, Thomas?”

Thomas shrugged, coming to watch Kamala and Alastair go through the clothes. “Just, you know, the regular ones.”

“What?” he added after seeing Kamala and Alastair exchange a glance and snicker.

“Nothing,” Alastair said. “Me and Kamala just have a running joke about white celebrations.”

“It’s hilarious,” Kamala added, not bothering to future elaborate.

Alastair grinned apologetically at Thomas, and Thomas rolled his eyes. “Do you celebrate any Spanish holiday, Tom?” he asked as they went back to looking at clothes.

“Not really. I mean, Papa regularly incorporates Spanish etiquette when there’s a family gathering, but other than that no.”

Alastair looked interested. “Like what?”

Thomas explained further as Kamala held out clothes to Alastair and Alastair disapproved or approved them. “And of course Genie's always been way too excited to pull ears at birthdays. Where is she anyway, Kamala?”

Kamala waved her hand. “She’s getting together with some of her classmates for a reunion. If you noticed we don’t spend every single second together.” She paused to stare at Alastair, who had defiantly shook his head at a pair of arm fishnets, then put them in her shopping bag anyway and she turned to smile sweetly at Thomas. “It’s called letting your partner have a fucking life.”

Alastair laughed. “Lay off, Kami.” He turned to Thomas. “She’s just kidding.”

“Tom knows when I’m kidding. Right, Tom?”

“I’m starting too,” Thomas said. Kamala flushed, and Alastair laughed again.

“Well now you know,” Kamala said. “Come on, let’s go check out shoes!” She lead them to another part of the mall, and Thomas and Alastair snickered and followed.

Kamala turned to them with three pairs of boots in her hands. “Pick one,” she asked Alastair. Alastair as about to choose when Kamala moved her hands away, putting the boots in a shopping bag. “Actually, I’ll just get you all of them.” Alastair snorted, and then moved away to looks at other displays.

Thomas lowered his voice so Alastair wouldn’t hear. “Do you really need to buy gifts for Eid? Because I don’t need anything, really.”

Kamala put down a case of eyeshadow and shook her head. “I can do gift shopping later,” she whispered back. “I just wanted to get Alastair stuff, but he never lets me buy for him without a valid excuse.”

“Also,” she added, “I think he’s afraid of wearing what he wants and having people disapprove. You know about his father.” She looked up at Thomas, lips pursed. “I want to show him I don’t care about what he chooses to wear, and that I’ll love him anyway.”

“He’s lucky to have a friend like you,” Thomas said.

Kamala nodded sagely. “He is.” Thomas stifled his laugh as Alastair walked back to them. He was holding two small gold items in one hand.

“Oh,” Kamala said, taking the earrings from Alastair. “Have your holes closed up? It’s been a while since you’ve worn earrings.” Alastair shook his head; Thomas asked, “You have your ears pierced?”

“Wait until I show you some pictures from Alastair’s shows I’ve downloaded onto my laptop,” Kamala said, handing the earrings back to Alastair. “He’s gorgeous. You’ll faint.” She grinned when she saw Alastair embarrassed look. “Okay, now go try on some of the clothes and see if you like them. I’ll meet you guys in a second.” She gave Alastair her shopping bag and walked off into the aisles.

As Thomas and Alastair walked to the fitting stations Thomas asked, “Can I see the earrings?” Alastair passed them to him. They little gold studs, dropping with a small gold hoop. “They’re nice,” he commented. “You should wear earrings more often. They’d suit you.”

Alastair looked embarrassed again. “I hate this,” he mumbled.

Thomas grinned. “Hate what? Hate having me tell you how sexy you look when you dress for your shows, hate that you look good regardless of what your wearing, hate knowing you’re going to be drop dead stunning in the clothes you and Kamala picked out—”

“By God,” Alastair muttered, but he was hiding a tiny grin. “You’re even worse than Kamala. Wait here.” He left Thomas to go try on some clothes. Thomas grinned to himself and went to sit down to wait for him, taking out his phone. Kamala came by a few minutes later, dumped a bag beside Thomas, and sauntered off to a fitting stall, red dress in hand.

He looked up when Alastair came out of his stall, and momentarily stopped breathing.

Alastair walked over to Thomas in a pair of skin tight black leather pants, which disappeared into a pair of stylish heeled boots. His shirt, a loose mesh black button down, flowed out from where it was tucked into his pants, and he was wearing earrings, not the ones from before but a pair of small silver hoops that matched his slim belt. Thomas stood up as Alastair smiled nervously at him. “What do you think?”

He was about to answer when Kamala emerged from her stall, twirling up to them in a deep red dress. “This is too fancy, right—?” She stopped when she saw Alastair, and her mouth dropped open. Thomas saw Alastair grip his elbows self consciously as Kamala stared at him. “What?” Alastair asked.

Kamala closed her mouth. “Okay, change of plans. Pay for that, all of it, get some makeup” —she waved over her shoulder— “take Tom to get party clothes, I’ll meet you two at the car in 20 minutes.”

Alastair scrunched his eyebrows. “But I don’t know if I want it—”

Thomas looked at him up and down, from his very tight shoes to his very tight pants to his very see-through shirt to his extremely beautiful face. “You do,” he said, and when Alastair looked embarrassed Kamala cackled. “Okay, see you guys then.” She started to walk off, but Alastair said, “Are you going to tell us what we’re going to do?”

She turned to him and rolled her eyes. “Club, of course. I made a vow. See you in 20!” She sprinted off before either could object.

Alastair turned to Thomas and made a noise between a chuckle and groan. “We’re not doing this.”

Thomas realized with the shoes Alastair was almost as tall as him. He tried not to let it get to him. “I would agree, but I don’t think I’m brave enough to cross Kamala, and how bad can it be?”

Alastair groaned and threw his hands in the air. “But I hate clubs—”

“But Alastair,” Thomas broke his eyes away from Alastair’s body (it was really hard not to stare) and placed his hands on Alastair’s shoulders. “This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. To get me to dance with you.”

Alastair scoffed, but he had on a tiny smile. “Like you’ll ever dance with me.”

“But the possibility, Alastair.” When Alastair just stared at him Thomas admitted, “Yes, a slim possibility, but it’s still there. If you agree to go.”

“Hmm.” Alastair paused, and then gave a defeated grin. “Fine."

——

In the club Kamala ducked a stream of banner and turned to grin at Alastair. Blue, green and purple light from the fixtures above bounced off her, transforming her into a cloud of colour in the dark room. “I may have lied!” she said. “It’s a full out party!”

“I noticed,” Alastair drawled. Kamala laughed and punched him in the arm. “‘C’mon! You never have fun! You’re going to have fun!”

She lead them further into the throng of people, singing in a screaming voice to the lyrics of the song, although Thomas was sure they weren’t the right lyrics, but Kamala didn’t seem to care. People thrived off her energy, whopping with her and dancing around her. Kamala danced and twirled around them, laughing and showing off her brilliant smile. At one point she spotted someone she knew. “Genie!” She made a beeline for her girlfriend, who looked startled to see her but pleased, and left Thomas and Alastair by themselves.

They glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. The group of bodies pushed around them, dancing and vibing to Thomas didn’t even know what. “How does she have so much energy!” Thomas yelled over the noise, moving closer to Alastair.

“I don’t know!” Alastair yelled back. “She’s just weird—”

“I heard that!” Kamala had reappeared at their side, Eugenia’s arms slung around her waist. They both had sparkles in their hair and were grinning at Thomas and Alastair. Kamala looked accusingly at them. “You guys are the ones who are weird. Look at you, standing here in the middle of the floor—”

Alastair scowled and crossed his arms. “We do not—”

Kamala laughed at him and moved towards him to kiss him on the cheek, unbuttoning his shirt while doing so. “You need to loosen up,” she said with a cheeky grin. Alastair exclaimed and tried to shove her off, but she just laughed and twirled away and back into Eugenia’s open arms. She looked over her shoulder Thomas. “He needs to loosen up!”

“Don’t look at me! What am I supposed to do!”

“Make out with him!” Kamala paused, and then grinned wide. “Dance with him!” She cast a look to Alastair, who was fumbling with his shirt and trying very hard not to smile. “See? Look at him! He wants to dance with you!”

Thomas was at a loss for words, despite the semi-promise he’d given Alastair. “But—I can’t dance!” Lost, he looked towards his sister for help, but she just smiled and shook her head. “Dance with him. We’ll leave you to it.” She whisked herself and Kamala away, and in a moment they were lost in the crowd.

Alastair turned to Thomas as the music changed, the air around them vibrating with the heavy beats. Alastair smirked up at Thomas. His eyes looked dark and glossy with the eyeliner Kamala had put on him. “Well?”

Thomas felt his cheeks heat up. “You know I can’t dance.”

“Sure you can. Anyone can. You just have to move to the music.” He cocked his head to the side, still smirking. “You’re not tone deaf, are you?”

“Fuck you.”

Alastair chuckled and then stepped away from Thomas, starting to dance to the music. He swung his hips and raised his arms in the air, closing his eyes while he danced; he was hardly even doing anything, but he did it so easily Thomas forgot why he had ever agreed to dance with Alastair in the first place.

Alastair opened his eyes to find Thomas watching him and smiled smugly, which annoyed Thomas, who determined he would not let himself get lost in Alastair tonight. “You have to dance!” Alastair yelled over the music, which had gotten louder.

“How?” Thomas honestly didn’t know what to do.

Alastair moved closer to him and put his hands on his hips, which did not do wonders for Thomas’ concentration. Alastair made his Thomas’ hips moved back and forth. “Like this,” he said, looking up at Thomas, mimicking with his own body. He was still smirking.

Which infuriated Thomas. Two could play at that game. Well, he could play the game, but he’d probably embarrass himself in the process. But still. Slowly he moved his hips back and forth, with Alastair’s hands still on him.

Alastair's head was bent slightly, looking at Thomas’ waist. “Yes,” he said, and Thomas could hear the smile in his words. “Like that. That’s good. Now to the tempo.” Alastair slowed down his swaying, and led by Alastair so did Thomas.

A group pushed their way through the group, and Alastair moved closer to Thomas to avoid them, their bodies close together but not touching. Alastair’s head was still bent, he was still leading Thomas in their dance, and Thomas brought his hands, which had been doing nothing, up to Alastair’s shoulders, slinging them around his neck. Alastair looked up at that, and when his eyes met Thomas’ he shuddered. They were still dancing, and Alastair stepped closer to press them closer to the wall, where Thomas’ back hit the concrete.

Alastair grinned. His hair, messier than usual, created a halo around his devilish features. “You’re too tense. You need to relax.” He stepped away from Thomas, and Thomas tired to dance the way Alastair did. Gradually he became more comfortable and closed his eyes while they danced, letting the music take over.

Until Alastair turned around, backing up to Thomas, still swaying his hips. Thomas stopped for a moment, but Alastair found Thomas' hands and placed them on his hips. “Don’t stop dancing.”

So Thomas gripped Alastair’s hips as they danced, waves of want going through him. He could feel heat from Alastair’s body mixing with his own, and his hands slid under Alastair’s shirt to graze his abdomen and grip his belt. “I hate your shirt,” Thomas mumbled as they danced.

Alastair didn’t respond, too caught up in their dance, but he pressed closer, backing Thomas into the wall again. Thomas could hear his breaths coming out low, and he gripped Alastair’s belt and pulled him closer still, not wanting any space between them. “Esfandiyar,” he mumbled.

Alastair let out the most erotic noise Thomas ever heard in his entire life, and Thomas turned him around as Alastair gripped his neck and both of them reached for each other’s mouth hungrily. Thomas head hit the back on the wall as Alastair stood on his lip toes to reach his lips. Alastair tasted of sweat and Alastair, his own unique taste that Thomas never got tired of.

Alastair detached himself from Thomas, but only to grip his biceps and kiss his throat down to the neckline of his shirt. Then he reached up to kiss Thomas’s mouth again, and at the small pauses between kisses spoke. “We… could… go… somewhere.”

Thomas pulled Alastair closer, wrapping his hands around his waist and making a noise deep in his throat. “To the car?”

Alastair barely nodded. He was restless against Thomas, kissing him with more force, and Thomas’ head knocked into the wall again. “Say we left our wallets—”

“Both of us?” At Thomas’ question Alastair let out a noise of infuriation and moved slightly away from Thomas, but only slightly. “I’ll go tell them so they won’t go looking for us. Go, I’ll be there in a minute.” He kissed Thomas one last time, messily and fast and hard, and then walked in the crowd, getting swept up into the throng.

Thomas made his way through the crowd and to the exit, and headed to Kamala’s car and leaning against the door, waiting restlessly for Alastair. He glanced in the car mirror and saw his face was flushed and his hair messy, and then thought of Alastair, and groaned. “Hurry, up, babe,” he muttered.

But when 15 minutes had passed and Alastair had not come Thomas went back to the club to see why.

The club was wilder than it had been when Thomas had left, and it looked like more people had arrived. He pushed past people, glad for his height that would make it easier to spot Alastair. He saw him a little away, heading away from him. Thomas called his named, but it got lost in the music, and so he pushed past the people to reach Alastair, placing a hand on his shoulder. He felt Alastair startle underneath his grip, and when Alastair turned around Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw the wary, angry look on Alastair’s face.

When Alastair realized who it was he relaxed slightly, but the angry look didn’t leave his face. He was holding his elbows, gripping the material of his shirt. He wasn’t looking at Thomas.

“Is everything okay?” Thomas asked, and he placed his hands on Alastair’s arms. “I waited for you. What happened?”

Alastair looked up at him, and Thomas couldn't see his face well in the darkness, but he was clearly angry, his jaw clenched and waves of anger rolling off him. He was holding himself carefully, like a statue, not responding as he usually did to Thomas’ touch. In the blue light Thomas saw his mouth set in a grim line. “Thomas. I want to leave. Now.”

Thomas had never seen him like this, so stiff and angry, but he knew it wasn’t at him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. We can text Kamala and Eugenia later, let’s go. Are you okay?” Alastair took a shuddering breath, and Thomas saw some of his stillness leave him, but only a fraction. His jaw was still clenched; his whole face seemed tight. He reached up to touch the collar of his shirt, where Thomas’ saw a couple of buttons had come undone. “I just want to leave,” Alastair said.

He gripped Thomas’ hand tightly and they make their way through the crowd to the exit.

Outside, they walked to Kamala’s car. By now it was dark outside, but not as dark as the club, and Thomas could see Alastair better, his stiffness, the angry red of his eyes. He still gripped Thomas’ hand tightly, but other than that he was unresponsive, staring off at the street. He said, “I want Kamala. Can you text her.”

Without letting go of Alastair Thomas took out his phone and sent Kamala a quick text, and a moment later Kamala and Eugenia were walking over to them. Kamala opened her mouth to ask a question, but made a noise of distress when she saw Alastair, and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Alastair?”

Alastair’s clenched jaw was trembling, and his eyes had turned misty. He gripped Thomas tightly and with his other hand gripped his own elbow, his fingers digging into his skin. “Can we talk.”

Kamala glanced at Thomas and Eugenia, who were looking on with worry. “Can you guys wait in the car? We’ll be a few minutes.” She passed Eugenia her keys.

In the car Eugenia asked Thomas, “Do you know what happened?” She was watching Kamala and Alastair, who’d moved to the opposite side of the parking lot to sit against the club. They were in the dark, but Thomas saw Kamala was stroking Alastair’s hair, and Alastair was staring off into space.

“No,” Thomas said. “I left the club, and when I came back he was like that. He told me he wanted to leave, so we left, and then he wanted Kamala, so I texted her.” Thomas had stopped watching Kamala and Alastair; he was looking down at his hands, which were wringing nervously together. He was worried about Alastair; the look he had on his face made him feel sick.

“What do you think happened?” Eugenia asked. “I mean, do you think somebody in the club…”

The thought of someone touching Alastair made Thomas queasy, so he opened the car door. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Don’t.” Eugenia placed a hand on his arm, restricting him from leaving. “I know you want to help, Tom, but Alastair wants to be with Kamala right now. When he’s better you can talk to him.”

“I—I just don’t want to see him hurt.” Eugenia made a noise of sympathy and touched Thomas' shoulder lightly; he closed the door of the car and sat waiting, lost in his thoughts about Alastair.

When Kamala and Alastair came back to the car Alastair looked slightly better, and although his eyes were no longer red he looked deathly tired. He had Kamala’s jacket on, covering his shirt. He climbed into the back seat as Thomas got out to let Kamala into the driver’s seat. “Are you okay to drive?” he asked her.

Kamala nodded. “I didn’t drink anything. It’s fine, you can sit with Alastair. Where should I drive to?”

Thomas told her Matthew’s address and went to sit beside Alastair in the back seat. Once Kamala started driving she and Eugenia conversed quietly together, their voices not reaching the back. Thomas turned to look at Alastair, who was looking down at his hands. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. He wanted to reach out for him, but he didn’t know if Alastair would want that.

Alastair nodded tiredly, his curls bouncing on his head. “I’m okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, as long as you’re okay.” They lapsed into silence for a moment, listening to the rumble of the car and the mummers from up front, and then Alastair leaned his head against Thomas’ shoulder and closed his eyes. Thomas took his hand in his, grazing his thumb over his knuckles, and rested his head on Alastair’s as the car drove on.

——

lmk if you want to be added or removed!

@dark-artifices-only @walkerrenee @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @noah-herondale-lightwood @proofthatshithappend @ddepressedbookworm @sohalia01 @writeordie-4 @thelastfunctioningbraincell @totalbookmaniac @melanielocke @lifewouldbebetteronmars @the-enchanted-dreamer @drunkonimagination @josiecarstairs @thestarkster1465 @livingformyself @they-ca-llme-princess @life-through-the-eyes-of @starlight-in-my-eyes @afunkygoodtime @tessherongraystairs @gabtapia @sophiesminas @the-ethereal-aura @styxdrawings

[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

A Thomastair Modern Au

Chapter 14

AO3 Link

Chapter List

Okay guys, I’m like actually gonna start posting consistently. Once a week. Until this is done.

Hahahah let’s see how that goes

But seriously I actually want to finish this because I’ve been having freaking daydreams about another fic idea i have but I don’t want to start that idea until i finish this one (we’re ignoring the fact that i already have 20,000+ words for the other fic, a nice very messy timeline on lined paper and a bunch of sticky notes)

Okay sorry for the short rant. Hope you enjoy this chapter! <333

ALSO SORRY FOR THE SLIGHTLY ANGSTY ENDING—

Thomas woke up when he felt Alastair’s fingers trailing over his shoulder and up his neck to lightly outline his face. He compressed his smile and pretended to be asleep.

Alastair, of course, saw through his ruse. His fingers traced over Thomas' cheeks, drawing little circles around his eyes before gliding down the side of Thomas’ nose to smooth over his lips. “Hello.”

Thomas opened his eyes to find a sleep-rumpled Alastair smiling at him, their noses almost touching. “Hello,” Thomas said back sleepily. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Alastair trailed his hand down Thomas’ neck and onto his chest, laying his fingers flat against Thomas’ heart. He pressed his forehead gently to Thomas’ and looked at him with his dark brown eyes. “Did you have a good sleep?”

Thomas nodded, and moved his lips forward to brush them against Alastair’s. He felt Alastair smiling against him. “What about you?”

“It was good.” Alastair’s fingers traced the outline of Thomas’ pecs. “But you and your giant body take up quite a lot of space.” He laughed when Thomas pulled back from him, looking at him indignantly, and then held out his hands to Thomas. “ Kidding . Come here.”

Thomas smiled crookedly and moved closer to Alastair, pressing their mouths together. Alastair brought his hands into Thomas’ hair as they kissed, pulling his head closer to his. Thomas grinned lazily against Alastair’s mouth: their kisses were the kind devoid of lust but full of love and happiness.

Then Thomas’ phone rang, and he lifted his mouth from Alastair’s, cursing softly. “Don’t answer,” said Alastair, fingers playing with the hair at the back of Thomas' head, drawing him close to him again.

Thomas laughed softly. “I have to. I’m trying to get a job, it might be them.” Alastair grumbled about which sane human would call someone at eight in the morning but let go of Thomas, and Thomas rolled over to take his phone off the side table.

He looked blankly at Alastair when he saw the caller ID. “It’s Matthew.”

Alastair snorted. “And again I say, don’t answer.”

The phone stopped ringing and a message went to voicemail. Thomas played it:

“Hi Tom, just thought I’d give you warning, call me back, I’m outside my apartment—”

Alastair exploded in action, sitting up in the bed and groaning. “What the fuck?”

Thomas looked at him with wide eyes. “My thoughts exactly.” He quickly dialed Matthew’s number and waited for him to pick up.

“Hi Tom, I see you got my message!” Matthew was barely holding back his laughter.

“Yes, thanks for the heart attack,” Thomas said. “Are you actually outside?”

“Of course not, I was just messing with you.” Thomas saw Alastair’s face and guessed he overheard, and bit back a laugh. Alastair rolled his eyes and lay back down, encompassing himself in the blankets.

But then Matthew gave a nervous laugh on the call. “Um… but I am at James’.”

Thomas was having trouble processing what Matthew just said. “What?” he said after a moment. Alastair perked up, looking at Thomas inquisitively. Thomas motioned for him to wait a moment.

“I, um.” Matthew coughed. “Don’t actually leave for Paris until tomorrow. I’ve been staying with James for the last week.”

“Thomas?” Matthew said when Thomas hadn’t responded for a while.

“So why—” Thomas’ brain felt very sluggish at the moment. “Why did you say you were going to leave last week….” Suddenly something clicked. Fucking hell. “You ass. You fucking—”

“I see you’ve caught on,” Matthew said. “Tom, you’re not mad, are you?” He sounded genuinely curious.

Thomas shook himself, stopping himself from groaning. Fuck Matthew. “That you still seem to be trying to set up my relationship even though I have repeatedly told you to stop?” he told Matthew mildly. “No, why would I be? That’s ridiculous.” On the phone Matthew laughed nervously again.

“But how did you know we’d need a place?” Thomas asked him. He saw Alastair look at him funny and shook his head.

“Honestly, I didn’t,” Matthew said. “That was James part. He was support to, er, “create” a reason. But I assure—”

Thomas hung up on Matthew and threw his phone back on the side table. Alastair looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What was that?”

“Apparently Matthew hasn’t left yet.” Now that Thomas had hung up he felt the insane urge to cry and laugh at the same time. He moved to sit beside and tell Alastair about Matthew’s “plan.”

“He just wanted us to take his apartment so we could ‘develop our relationship’,” he finished. Alastair looked at him blankly, and then his mouth quivered slightly. “This isn’t funny,” Thomas said.

Alastair’s mouth twitched again. “It is a little, don’t you think?”

“No.”

At that Alastair laughed, and Thomas’ lips unintentionally turned up. “Aw, come on, just a little? I mean, who the fuck actually spends that much time setting two people up? Like, that’s dedication right there.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “He’s just so fucking stupid.”

Alastair chuckled and shook his head, still grinning. "But how did he know I needed a place?”

“Apparently a stroke of luck. But knowing Matthew I’m not surprised his insane plan worked.”

Alastair smiled, and poked Thomas in the chest. “Stop being so grumpy. It’s funny, admit it. It’s so stupid it’s hilarious.” His lips quirked up again.

Thomas rolled his eyes and smiled. “For the person being set up you are enjoying this way too much.”

“It’s funny —”

Thomas threw up his hands, and Alastair collapsed into giggles.

—

After they had showered and gotten dressed Thomas and Alastair headed over to James’. Matthew and James were just leaving.

“Matthew’s afraid of talking lest you murder him,” James said as he greeted them.

Thomas glanced at Matthew, who smiled but kept his lips sealed. “He should be,” Thomas murmured. Alastair snickered.

“Where are you guys heading?” Alastair asked.

“The gym,” James said. “Care to join?”

Alastair nodded. “Why not. I don’t have work until later. Thomas?”

“As long as Matthew stays far away.” Matthew gave Thomas a huge grin and stepped back. James chuckled. “This works, then.”

—

When they got to the gym—which wasn’t occupied beside three others using the bikes—they found four free treadmills beside each other and each took one, Matthew on one side of James and Thomas on the other, and Alastair on his other side. “Matthew why are you making me do this,” James complained as he started to jog. “I hate these.”

Matthew shook his head, smiling. “It’s good exercise, Jamie. Come on, faster!” He leaned over and pressed a button, and James almost went flying off his treadmill. Matthew laughed insanely, then turned to Thomas. “See, look what happens when you deprive me of my fun. Jamie becomes the target.”

Thomas grinned. “Better him than me.”

“Object,” Alastair said from his treadmill. They were all running at a pace where they could still hold a conversation. “Your reaction is much more funny than James.” Thomas made a face at him, and then got out his headphones, playing music while he ran.

After a while he stopped, breathing hard. Matthew had already given up on his own treadmill and was playing with the control’s on James, who was cursing to him in a quiet voice while Matthew chuckled. He turned his head to Thomas. “Where did Alastair go?”

Thomas scanned the gym and found Alastair a little way off, doing pull ups on the metal bar. His back was to them, and he’s taken off his shirt, sweat gleaming on his back and shoulders and he used his muscles to raise himself above the bar. The sight of Alastair made a pool of heat settle in Thomas stomach.

Matthew coughed loudly, and Thomas turned back to him. Matthew smiled an eerie smile. “You did it,” he said.

“Did what?” Thomas tried not to sweat.

Matthew looked towards Jamie, who was leaning over his treadmill, panting. “Jamie. Look at Thomas' face. Tell me you can see it.”

“Matthew what are you—oh,” James said. He looked at Thomas, grinning slightly. “Oh.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Thomas clapped his hands over his ears.

Matthew pulled them down.

“Thomas,” he said. “It’s fine, it’s okay! We won’t bother you about it.”

Thomas lowered his hands. Matthew and James were still looking at him. “Well can you stop that!” he snapped.

“Stop what?” Matthew asked innocently.

“Stop staring at me! God, Matthew, why did you have to announce it?”

“Sorry.” Matthew didn’t look sorry at all. There was an awkward pause.

“Can you guys please stop acting so weird and can we change the subject—”

“No one is acting weird!” James protested. “You're the one who keeps bringing it up!”

“Well then let’s talk about something else—”

“You know you still have to use condoms, right?”

“MATTHEW.” Thomas turned red; he was immensely glad the others in the gym were wearing headphones. “CAN WE PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS.”

Matthew grinned. “Sorry, Tom.”

Alastair came jogging back to them. “Do any of you have water?” James passed him a water bottle, and Matthew’s grin widened for no reason at all.

Thomas quickly turned to Alastair and said, “Want to try the bench press?”

Alastair took one look at Matthew, who was still grinning, and then turned to Thomas suspiciously. “Sure, I guess—” Thomas pulled him away before he could finish his sentence.

Alastair chuckled as he sat down on the bench press. “What did he say?”

Thomas shook his head, thoroughly embarrassed, and then pulled his eyes away from Alastair's body and motioned for his to lie down on the bench press.

They each did a few sets, and then Thomas sat up, taking a long drink of water. He noticed Alastair watching, his eyes on his throat as he chugged the water. He wiped his mouth and looked back at Alastair. “What?”

Alastair shook his head. “Nothing.” Alastair turned away to put his shirt back on, and then turned back to Thomas, grinning. “But you don’t have to act sexy all the time, you know.”

“Me? What about you, Mr. take-your-shirt-off-while-exercising-in-a-public-gym.” Alastair laughed, shaking his head.

Matthew called over from where he was talking to James. “You two need a room?”

Thomas rolled his eyes at Matthew, bright pink. Alastair said, “No thanks, we’ve got your whole apartment.”

Matthew gawked, and James let out a laugh. “Nothing to say, Math?”

Matthew closed his open mouth and turned to Thomas. “You have deceived me," he declared. “I have been deceived. My whole picture of Alastair is changing.”

“For the better, I hope,” Alastair said, still smirking. “Thomas told me of your plan. How long have you been planning that?”

“About three months.” Thomas groaned; Matthew shrugged, and then looked to Alastair. “You’re not mad, are you? I realize now I may have come on a little too harsh.” He laughed nervously. James laughed too, but at Matthew.

“It’s all good,” Alastair said. “I should thank you, actually. Thomas was taking forever.”

“ Alastair ,” Thomas said through Matthew’s snickers. “Don’t encourage him.”

“He doesn’t need to,” Matthew said. “Sadly however I’m off to Paris for real this time, so I won’t be able to help. Good luck, Alastair.”

“I’ll need it.”

Thomas groaned. “This isn’t even about the relationship anymore, is it? It’s just everyone ganging up to mess with me.”

“Tom,” Alastair said, trying to hold back his smile. “I think it was always about that.”

“I second that,” Matthew chirped. He elbowed James, who glared at him but said, “I third.”

“I have literally done nothing to you three.”

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Matthew said breezily. “It’s everyone, Tom. You’re just fun to help.”

“Right. Nice choice of words.”

Matthew grinned. “Of course.”

—

When the afternoon was closing and the evening approaching, Thomas greeted Alastair with, “I think I failed.”

Alastair came to sit beside Thomas on the couch. “Why? Did the interview not go well?”

“No, it did.” Thomas had gotten a real call after Alastair had left for work, and the owner had wanted to schedule a meeting that very afternoon. He had quickly accepted, spent around thirty minutes deciding what to wear, and panic-texted Alastair, who’d tried to reassure him that he would do fine, although Thomas had practically heard Alastair smirk when he asked him if he could borrow his cologne.

Alastair now looked at him quizzically. “So then why do you think you failed?”

Thomas shrugged helplessly. “They said they’d get in contact.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“I don’t know.” Alastair took Thomas’ hand and Thomas gave him a small smile, resting his head against Alastair’s. They didn’t talk, but just Alastair’s presence was helping Thomas relax. After a moment he cleared his throat. “I may have also, um…” He trailed off.

“What is it?” Alastair stopped drawing circles on Thomas’ knuckles and looked at him with worry.

“Nothing… I just, may have scheduled an appointment? For a tattoo? Tonight?”

“Wow, the interview really got to you.”

“Well, there was a tattoo shop on the same street, and I actually do want to get one, but maybe it was just stupid—”

“It’s not stupid.” Alastair pulled Thomas to his feet. “If you still want it then you should get it, and if you don’t you can just cancel. When is the appointment?”

“In half an hour.”

“Well then, let’s go,” Alastair walked away and a moment later came back with his and Thomas’ jackets.

When they arrived the shop was dark, but the sign still said open, so Thomas pushed open the door and entered, Alastair walking behind him. Their entrance set of a bell. “Coming!” someone yelled from the back. “Just getting things ready.”

They sat on the reception couch. “Have you thought about what you want to get?" Alastair asked.

“Don’t laugh.” When Alastair just continued looking on, Thomas said, “A compass rose.”

Alastair’s lips twitched into a smile and Thomas said, “I told you not to laugh.”

“I’m not!” Alastair couldn’t hold in his smile. “Where do you want it?” Thomas pushed up his sleeve and pointed to an area on his arm. Alastair touched it lightly and murmured, “No, that won’t do.” His fingers trailed down Thomas’ arm and touched the sensitive ski on the underside of his forearm. “What about here?”

Thomas glanced up at Alastair. “I like it,” he said, voice coming out a little husky. Alastair laughed.

A man came out to the front desk and greeted Thomas and Alastair. “Hold on, I’ve got your order here somewhere…” He ruffled through some papers until he found the one he was looking for. “This it?” he asked, holding up a stencil of a tattoo.

Thomas nodded, and the man motioned for him to come around to the back. “Bring your friend, too,” he said as he led the way. “It’s been a slow day.”

“Boyfriend,” Thomas corrected as he followed the man. The man turned around with a puzzled look, glanced at Alastair, and then smiled kindly before gesturing Thomas to a chair beside an open window that let light onto the room. Thomas caught Alastair’s embarrassed look as he went to take a seat in another chair. He grinned and gave Alastair a wide smile, and Alastair shook his head and smiled back, laughing a little.

The man took a seat beside Thomas and after everything was set up Thomas placed his arm on the table for the man to start inking. Alastair leaned closer to watch, but at a respectful distance so as not to bother the man as he worked.

Up until the moment Thomas hadn’t thought about pain. Now he wished he had.

Halfway into the tattoo the man set down his tools. “Five minute break,” he said, standing up. “Just don’t touch your arm.” He left the room.

Alastair looked over Thomas’ shoulder and blanched; little drops of blood were welling up along the design. Thomas snickered. “The future med student afraid of blood?”

“Shut up,” Alastair said, not unkindly. “I hope you know that once your tattoo is healed my fingers are going to be, like, permanently attached to your forearm.”

Thomas smirked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, babe.”

The ding of Alastair’s phone went off, and Alastair fished it out of his pocket. The screen lit up his face in the darkened room. “I’ll be back,” he murmured. “I’ve got to take this.” He left as the shop owner returned, and Thomas was so preoccupied by more pain and the whole process that he didn’t have time to worry over Alastair’s expression.

But when the tattoo was done and the owner was cleaning up and getting together a small package of things Thomas would need to care for the tattoo as it healed, Thomas went to sit beside Alastair in the lounge. Alastair had put his phone away; he looked at Thomas, a little distracted. “Well? Let’s see.”

Thomas held out his arm, which ached; the artist had covered the tattoo in antibacterial oil and wrapped it in clear bandage, but for the most part the tattoo could be seen clearly. Alastair lowered his fingers to the design, not touching it; it was a eight-star compass, with the four cardinal points and their midpoints. North left up Thomas’ arm, to his heart. Alastair’s fingers outline the design, his fingers millimeters from the bandage. “I like it.”

A silence fell between them. “Who was calling you?” Thomas asked.

“Father,” came Alastair’s mumbled reply, head bowed. He was still tracing Thomas’ tattoo.

Thomas’ heart tightened. He wondered who would need the compass more, him or Alastair.

—————————

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[tomscompassrose]

seeing you makes me giddily in love

Chapter 13

Read on AO3

Chapter List

so long since i've posted :') enjoy <33

TW/CW brief talk of mental health disorders, smut (the smut in the fic is about the same amount you’d find in one of CC’s books)

——

That night Thomas slept well, until he didn’t. He shifted under the sheets, trying to get comfortable. Beside him he could feel Alastair shifting as well.

“Your bed’s too small,” Thomas whispered. He flopped onto his stomach. “And why is it so hot.”

“It’s a twin bed,” Alastair whispered back. “And I never sleep with this many layers. I’m taking my shirt off.” Without sitting up he managed to take off his shirt and sweater, throwing them towards the end of the bed. After a moment Thomas threw his shirt there too, and then closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

Then Alastair broke the silence, his voice tinged with playfulness. “Now I’m cold.”

Thomas let out a small smile and moved closer to Alastair. He wrapped his arms around him, resting his hands on Alastair’s lean stomach. Alastair nuzzled his head into Thomas’ shoulder, placing his hands on top of Thomas’. “Better?” Thomas whispered. “Better,” Alastair whispered back.

“Better,” Alastair whispered back.

Thomas was drifting to sleep when Alastair shifted again to give him a peck on the nose. “I love you,” he whispered.

Thomas smiled and kissed his nose back. “I love you too, Esfandiyār. Now go to sleep.” Alastair turned back around and Thomas hugged him close and gradually both feel asleep.

——

They woke up some hours later to the sound of Alastair’s alarm. Thomas groaned softly and untangled an arm from the sheets to reach his hand over and turn it off. He then pulled the blanket back over them, pressing his face into Alastair’s neck. “Your alarm’s too early,” he mumbled.

Alastair let out a little yawn that made Thomas smile against his neck. “I have a class at nine,” Alastair said unenthusiastically.

“My first is at 10.” Thomas sat up in the bed, much to Alastair’s dismay, who exclaimed and reached for the blankets. Thomas laughed when Alastair took the blankets back. “You have to get up.”

Alastair’s voice was muffled by the blankets, which he had pulled over his head. “It’s warm here though.” He squawked at Thomas attempt to take the blanket.

“I am concerned about how you usually get up, considering you don’t have someone to wake you every morning.”

“Multiple alarms,” came Alastair’s reply from beneath the blanket. As if to prove his point an alarm went off on his phone, which Thomas turned off. “And if those don’t work then relying on Kamala to call me at 7:30 as she periodically does for no reason.” Thomas laughed, and Alastair poked his head out, a smile on his face. “If you want me to get up you’ll have to try harder than that.”

Thomas let out a fondly exasperated noise. “Am I supposed to carry you to your class?” Alastair shrugged. “Might work.”

But when Thomas went to pick Alastair up he stiffened his body to make it difficult for him. After five minutes of struggles for Thomas and laughter from Alastair Thomas managed to get Alastair off the bed and standing up. “Asshole,” Thomas said once they were standing. He passed Alastair his shirt. “Now go shower and change so we can go to breakfast and you can get to your class on time.” Alastair made a face at him but put on his shirt and went to get his shower things.

He stopped at the door when he realized Thomas was sitting on the bed. “You’re not coming to shower?”

“You’re the one with the early class,” Thomas said. He stretched out on the bed. “I’ll wait for you here.” Alastair made another face at him and closed the door to the dorm, heading for the shared showers down the hall.

A little while later Alastair pushed open the door to his room again, shivering and drying his hair. “I hate shared showers,” he announced happily.

Thomas, sitting on the now-fixed bed, lifted his eyes from the textbook he'd been skimming, and just barley stopped a noise from escaping his throat. Alastair had his back turned to him, searching for clothes in his closet, only wearing a towel around his waist, and Thomas blushed slightly at the sight of his lean dancer's body. "Um," he said, his voice coming out for the most part normal. "Most people just change in the shower areas, to avoid the awkward walking-through-halls-in-our-towels part of it, you know."

"True," Alastair allowed as he stepped behind his open closet door to change. Thomas looked away, even though Alastair was blocked by the door. "But one, I forgot my clothes, and two, I didn't think people would actually, you know, be up."

Thomas chuckled. "Of course not."

“What are you reading?” Alastair asked as he finished changing. His damp curls stuck to his head, water splashing onto Thomas as Alastair sat and leaned towards him. “Oh.” He adopted a monotonous voice: “Molecular Neuropharmacology: A Foundation for Clinical Neuroscience.”

Thomas let out a chuckle. “Is that what you’re going to go to med school for? To become a neuroscience?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Alastair took the book and started flipping through it. “I’d liked to. Or a psychiatrist. From what I understand from the class, my classmates understand the science of it all, but not much else.” He looked down at the book. “Like, all of them are so caught up in the biological part of it. And yes, disorders like PTSD and schizophrenia and bipolar disease do have with chemicals in the brain and all, but not just that. I mean, these people live with these disorders. You can’t just treat them like a bunch of neuron receptors giving off messed up signals. They're not there for you to study.” He closed the book.

“And I know that’s what therapists are for, to deal with the real life issues brought up by these disorders. But therapists don’t make the decisions about what meds are given and all; the pharmacists do that, and the get recommendations from the doctors. Who are like the kids in my classes, and don’t think further than the physical things happening in the patients brain. That’s why I’m thinking about studying it further; I want to understand the scientific part of it, and the social part. And I want others, especially other doctors, to understand that they're both equally important.” He looked up to meet Thomas’ gaze, who after a moment leaned forward and kissed him. Alastair smiled against his lips, bringing a hand up to curl into Thomas’ hair.

Thomas broke apart to gently kiss the soft spot behind Alastair’s ear. “I love you,” he said when he pulled back, looking into Alastair dark eyes. “I need to say that, without the jokes or you saying it first or anything. I love you so much.” Alastair smiled back at him, tucking a strand of Thomas’ hair behind his ear.

Eventually they made their way to the student café nearby, and ordered a pile of pancakes to share, along with coffee. As they ate Thomas looked at their cups of coffee, one a toffee brown and other slightly darker, more the color of earth.

Alastair noticed him looking at the cups. “Let me taste yours,” he said, reaching for the toffee colored cup. He pulled a face once he took a sip. “Too sweet.”

Thomas took the other cup and brought it to his mouth to taste. Then he set it down and made a face, mimicking Alastair. “Too bitter.”

“Coffee’s supposed to be bitter,” Alastair said defensively. Thomas just chuckled.

When they had finished eating Alastair asked, “What time are we going to meet to move all my stuff to Matthew’s?”

“When are you free?” Thomas asked.

“Well, I’ve got the autism class till 10, then from 10:30 to 12 I have another, and at three I have dance, until six, and from six to seven I have another class.”

“You’re schedule's pretty packed,” Thomas observed, “with both your majors to take course for.” Alastair nodded. “There’s not a lot of courses that overlap, but for dance it’s more like a co-op, so it doesn’t need a lot.”

“And work? You only work part-time, right?”

“Yup, only weekends and Thursdays, usually four to five hours a shift.”

“Christ, Alastair,” Thomas said. “Your going to murder yourself.”

Alastair smiled and licked syrup off his fork. “I’ll be fine. So meet at 7:30ish?”

“Yeah.” Thomas called for the bill, and stopped Alastair from taking out his wallet. “On me,” he said, and he took Alastair’s hand. “And try to find a way to lighten your load, okay?”

Alastair rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m fine. It’s just today I’m full.”

Thomas paid and they said goodbye and went their ways, Alastair to his class and Thomas to his dorm to change clothes and get ready for his class.

They day passed, and when Thomas finished his classes he headed to the library to study. He was so immersed in his work that he didn’t notice until he heard a throat being cleared that someone had joined his table.

“Took you long enough,” Alastair said when Thomas looked up.

Thomas pushed his laptop aside and closed his books. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Bumped into James. He told me you usually come here to study.” He tapped Thomas’ book. “What are you working on?”

“Essay for a class.”

“On the Normans?”

“And the ethical issues that come with sacking a whole city and enforcing a new culture on it.” Alastair snorted; Thomas smiled crookedly as he put his things in his messenger bag. “Yes, I know: obvious, basic and boring, but it’ll give me the marks.”

“I didn’t say it was boring,” Alastair said as they walked to James’ apartment. “I just fail to see how there would not be any ethical issues with that.”

“Precisely why I’m arguing affirmative.” They reached James’ apartment and Thomas texted James, who came down to the lobby a few minutes later, the key to Matthew’s place in hand.

“Here,” he said, handing Thomas the key. “And if you find a dead body in his bathtub, I am in no way connected to it.”

“Noted,” Thomas said drily, and Alastair snickered.

There was no body in the bathtub, or any place in Matthew’s flat. It was a nice place, wide open and spacious, and Matthew’s taste was sprinkled everywhere; in the neutral colored throw pillows that littered the couches, in the authentic looking paintings that hung on the wall of both Matthew’s bedroom and the guest bedroom, as well as the walls of the den, where a grand piano sat— Alastair eyed it while they put down the last box of his things. He looked towards Thomas, who chuckled and nodded; a second later the apartment was filled with melodious music.

Thomas carried the boxes with Alastair’s clothes into Matthew’s bedroom, which he put in the closet (Matthew more or less emptied out his whole room), and then Alastair’s textbooks and school things, which he put on top of Matthew’s desk. He left Alastair’s more personal things in the boxes in the living room for him to do with what he liked.

Having done that, Thomas went to the den and leaned on the side on the piano and watched Alastair play. “I am woefully behind,” he said when Alastair finished, sliding the lid back in place.

“You just need practice,” Alastair said. He smiled. “Like you do with your Persian.”

“I’ll have you know that just this week I spoke to Cordelia in Persian and she didn’t laugh at me like she did last time, which clearly shows I have improved.”

“Or she took pity on you,” Alastair said, a crooked smile on his face. Thomas blew a raspberry at him; Alastair laughed. “Very mature.”

“Come on,” Thomas said, dragging Alastair off the piano seat and into the kitchen. “It’s dinner time. Let’s see what food Matthew left.”

In text, Matthew had seemed to be graciously giving them an abundance of food but in reality besides a few cans of fruit, chip bags and cookie boxes there wasn’t much. “We can stock up tomorrow,” Thomas said. He was about to close the cupboard when Alastair spotted something in the far corner: he reached his hand in and took out a wallet, which he passed to Thomas.

About 500 dollars in total. Thomas slipped the money into his pocket. “You can’t just take his money,” Alastair protested.

“He said anything in his cupboards.”

“He said any food.”

Thomas shrugged, a grin appearing on his face. “Its fine, he owes me anyway.” Alastair shook his head, but he was smiling. “At least tell him.”

Thomas rolled his eyes but took out his phone. “You and your good heart,” he said while texting Matthew. “He won’t answer right now, it’s probably late in Paris—” He was cut off by a ding of a text, in which Matthew had written I would complain but I guess this is karma. “Never mind. Leave it to Matthew to be up in the dead of night.”

“He was up when you texted him yesterday,” Alastair observed.

“No doubt planning his diabolical schemes.”

Alastair chuckled. “Should we order, then?” He flipped through the restaurant pamphlets that had been left on the island. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want,” Thomas said.

“Well, we did Persian last time so this time Spanish?” He held up the pamphlet for a local Spanish restaurant and Thomas nodded. After they had picked out a few dishes and ordered they went to the living room to wait for the delivery.

“What about your things?” Alastair asked as he sorted through his boxes, taking out some books and pictures and other things. “Do you need to get your stuff from your dorm?”

“I’ll go by tomorrow and pick up some clothes and my school stuff,” Thomas said. “But if I bring everything they might end my residency there, so, you know. How long will we be staying here, anyways?”

“Until me and Kamala find a place,” Alastair said. “Is Matthew coming back soon?”

“No, not for at least a few months.” Thomas stretched back on the couch. “Take all the time you need.”

When the food arrived they both stood up to get it and then went back to the living room, where, after announcing that there was nothing good to watch, Alastair commenced to make up his own story.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Thomas cut in midway through. “You just said they were attacked by…?”

Alastair bit into a piece of queso frito—fried cheese. “Man eating kangaroos.”

“So then how did those kangaroos turn into spiders?"

“Thomas,” Alastair said. “It’s fiction. It doesn’t have to make sense. Besides, I needed a scarier animal.”

“And you think spiders are scarier than kangaroos?”

“You don’t?”

Thomas laughed. “Of course not!”

“Look at it this way: when you asked people what they are scared of, they are more likely to name a small bug than a kangaroo.”

“That’s only because bugs are more common,” Thomas objected.

“It doesn’t matter why, people are still more afraid of them,” Alastair countered. “Now, will you let me finish the story?”

Thomas laughed again. “Go ahead.” Alastair proceeded to continue his story while they finished the last of their meal.

Thomas looked at the clock. Nine o’clock. “What do you want to do now?” he asked.

“I have a project I need to work on. What?” he added at Thomas’ look.

“Do you need to work on it now?” Thomas asked. “It’s getting late.”

“What time do you go to bed?” Alastair asked.

“Later on, but—” Finding no reason to argue Thomas shook his head and smiled. “You win. I put your school things on top of the desk in Matthew’s room.”

“What are you going to do?” Alastair asked as he went to get his things. “The essay on the Normans.” Thomas replied while moving to get his laptop.

They worked in the living room in silence for an hour or so, until Thomas closed his laptop with a click. “I’m done,” he announced.

Alastair looked up from his laptop. “The essay?”

“No, I’m just done with school for now.” Alastair snickered as Thomas came to sit beside him. “What are you working on?

“A presentation.”

Thomas glanced at the screen. “Too many words I don’t know,” he decided, and stretched out on the couch to lay his head on Alastair’s lap, who shifted to make them more comfortable. “Can you work like this?” Thomas asked, looking up at Alastair.

Alastair looked down at Thomas, then at his laptop, then at Thomas again, and bit his lip. “No,” he said, but he closed his laptop and smiled. “But I think I'm done for now too.”

“You’re being too indecisive,” Alastair told Thomas a moment later as they clicked through channels. “The next one is the one we’re watching.” Alastair changed the channel; they settled in to watch an action movie that had just started. After a few minutes Thomas turned his head to look up at Alastair. “What’s your favourite animal?”

Alastair looked down at Thomas and placed a hand in his hair, pulling it back. “Hedgehog. Yours?”

“Not sure.” Alastair laughed. “See: too indecisive. Pick one.” After a moment Thomas said, “Owl.”

Alastair smiled. “Both woodland creatures.” They went back to watching the Tv, Alastair’s hand still wound in Thomas hair.

“You’re right,” Alastair said after a while. On the Tv men had started to shoot at each other, and it was obvious who would win. “This is boring.”

Thomas sent him a smug look, at which Alastair rolled his eyes. “What do you want to do then?” Thomas said.

Alastair shrugged, and then pulled on Thomas’ hair. “We could make out.”

Shifting so he was on his elbows, Thomas smiled crookedly at Alastair. “No sense of dignity in asked that?”

“How else do you suggest I ask my boyfriend if he wants—” He was cut off by Thomas, who grinned and leaned up to kiss him. “How about like that?”

Instead of answering Alastair gripped Thomas’ chin and tilted it up, deepening their kiss, and Thomas tangled his hands into Alastair’s curls, prompting Alastair to stretch out beside him on the couch.

Alastair’s lips moved down Thomas’ neck, his lips trailing kisses to his collarbone as Thomas’ hands found his own shirt and lifted it up over his head. Alastair made a strangled noise and then moved to straddle Thomas’ hips with his knees as Thomas moved his hands to Alastair and helped him take off his shirt. Thomas reached for Alastair's waist as Alastair leaned forward, placing his hands on Thomas' chest, and then pressing his lips to his.

On the Tv loud gunfire startled them both, so much that Alastair fell off the couch, bringing Thomas down with him. “Ouch,” Alastair said from where he was on the floor, and he sat up to lean his back against the couch.

Thomas let out a little chuckle. “Are you okay?” Alastair nodded. His hair was messy and his cheeks flushed. Thomas shuffled closer and bent his head to kiss Alastair's chest, where his heart was. He could feel it beating fast against his lips, and felt Alastair’s chest expand underneath him.

“Esfandiyār,” he murmured. “Maybe we could go to bed?” He kissed his chest again, and moved his hands to his waist, and heard Alastair’s quick intake of breath; when Thomas raised his head he saw that Alastair’s head was tipped back, resting on the couch, his eyes were half-closed, his eyelashes brushing across the tips of his flushed cheeks. A wave of desire shot through him.

Alastair opened his eyes and took Thomas face in his hands, pulling his face close for a deep kiss. “Yes. That is, if you want to—”

Thomas’ laugh came out low; he cleared his throat and pressed his nose to Alastair’s. “Any chance you will stop being so insufferably nice about our non-existent sex life?”

“I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t.” Thomas kissed his neck. “I want you.” Alastair shuddered again, his hands moving restlessly against Thomas. “Well, then?” he said. “What are you waiting for? Help me up.”

Thomas laughed and helped Alastair to his feet. If possible, Alastair looked even hotter standing up, with just his sweatpants on. He opened his mouth to say something but Thomas moved towards him, pressing his lips to him and backing him up to a wall. He gripped Alastair’s legs and slung them around his waist, so his hands were under Alastair’s thighs, holding him up. Alastair’s hands clung to his shoulders, he let out a little sound as Thomas pressed him further into the wall, pressing his body to him. He could feel Alastair against him, hard and wanting, and his head swam, wanting to be as close to Alastair as possible.

“T—Thomas,” Alastair said when he got the chance. “Bed.”

Thomas nodded, and still kissing Alastair, walked them to Matthew’s room.

——

lmk if you want to be added or removed!

@dark-artifices-only @walkerrenee @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @noah-herondale-lightwood @proofthatshithappend @ddepressedbookworm @sohalia01 @writeordie-4 @thelastfunctioningbraincell @totalbookmaniac @melanielocke @lifewouldbebetteronmars @the-enchanted-dreamer @drunkonimagination @josiecarstairs @thestarkster1465 @livingformyself @they-ca-llme-princess @life-through-the-eyes-of @starlight-in-my-eyes @afunkygoodtime @tessherongraystairs @gabtapia @brekkcrs

[tomscompassrose]

Seeing You Make Me Giddily in Love Masterlist

AO3 Link

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19