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Tommy’s painting a landscape and sipping coffee and being very careful not to dip his brushes in the coffee. He can hear Evan talking on the phone with his parents while he makes bread dough, but it's a low murmur punctuated by laughter or sighing or whining. They do these long catch up calls every couple of weeks, because the family therapist his in-laws have been seeing recommended them, Evan’s therapist agreed. They're helping, there's understanding and communication where there was a brittle connection before.
He doesn't get jealous, just a little sad. He wishes he had the kind of dad who was willing to work on himself, because Tommy's part in the breaking of their relationship is that he dared to be gay. But he gets texts from Phillip sometimes, just a news article or a video here and there usually. Then there's Bobby, who's more like an older brother and mentor than a father. He'll actually give Tommy advice, listen to him vent, and check in.
It's all part of the fabric of his life now. He has friends from before Evan, like Sal, but the number of people he can turn to for help, advice, comfort, and quality time is so much more than before.
Tommy blinks at the mountain he's been adding to and realizes he got too introspective to keep track of the light source. He wraps a cloth around his finger and carefully taps and wipes the paint away.
“Tommy, do you want a sandwich?” Evan calls.
“Yes, please!” he calls back, turning on his music. It'll keep him more focused than thinking about life stuff. He doesn't mind thinking about life stuff, but he'd like to get the painting finished. Athena had wanted something “Bob Ross-ish” for a friend’s birthday at work.
A few minutes later, Evan slides Tommy's coffee over and puts down a plate with what looks to be a turkey sandwich on it.
“Thank you, baby,” Tommy says, tipping his face up for a kiss.
Evan sits with him and eats his own sandwich, just quietly watching Tommy. When he's done, he takes their plates, kisses Tommy on the cheek, and goes into the kitchen.
A while later, Tommy needs a break and has hit a good stopping point. He just needs one more session to finish, which will mean getting it to Athena a little earlier than he'd told her. As he stretches and wanders around looking for his husband, he finds him in the garage doing back extensions.
“Hey,” Evan grunts, setting the dumbbell on the floor before coming up a last time. When he pulls his legs out from behind the calf pads and stretches his arms over his head, Tommy sees the sweat shine on his skin and feels like his blood’s running ten degrees hotter. “All done?”
“For today,” Tommy confirms, stepping to his husband and spreading a hand over his side. “You?”
Evan settles his arms on Tommy's shoulders and presses close, nodding before he comes in for a kiss. Tommy moans softly against his mouth and runs his other hand down Evan’s back before he slips it into his shorts to grab his ass.
“I'm all gross,” Evan warns him.
Tommy grins and noses along his sweaty neck. “You know I like that.”
“Perv,” Evan accuses softly, but he's grinning when Tommy bites at his jaw. Like he isn't all over Tommy when he's sweaty and/or greasy. Like he didn't have his face in Tommy's neck in a hospital bathroom when he was covered in soot.
“You want me to stop?” Tommy teases, backing Evan toward the exercise bench.
“Nope,” Evan replies, sitting on the bench and dragging Tommy down with him. He puts his legs over Tommy's thighs and presses close, running his hands over Tommy's tank top before pulling it up. His thumb presses against a smear of paint that went through the fabric to stain Tommy's skin.
“Should probably shower,” Tommy says, kissing Evan’s neck. “After.”
“Uh-huh,” Evan agrees, grinding against him. “After.”
They don't undress, just push their shorts down enough to get their cocks out, and Tommy jerks them off while he grabs and squeezes Evan's ass. One of Evan’s hands is squeezing Tommy's pec, the other one is clutching his back while he thrusts into Tommy's grip and against his cock.
He loves this, loves how much they want each other at the drop of a hat, loves how they fit and work together. It's easy, easier than anything else Tommy's ever had once he’d stopped worrying so much about what could go wrong. Even when he feels burning lust for Evan, it's tied so closely to how much he loves him. Every breath, every bitten off curse, every moan, it's for Tommy.
“C'mon, baby,” Tommy urges, wanting Evan to let go, to give him more. He's so greedy for Evan it feels selfish, but Evan's hand slides from his back to his hair and holds tight, whining softly as he moves his hips faster.
Evan's face is always so open, and Tommy can see the pleasure and the need and, under all of it, love. When he leans in and kisses Tommy with as much fervor and greed, and it settles something in Tommy’s chest, that little thing that makes him feel selfish and needy. They're both so far down in this together.
“You're so wet,” he murmurs, dragging his palm across the slick head of Evan's cock. “‘S that for me, honey?”
“Yeah,” Evan pants, pressing their foreheads together. “All—all for you. Oh, fu—”
Tommy kisses him through his orgasm and thrusts hard against Evan's cock as he follows him over the edge. He spreads the cum over both of them and lifts his hand to suck it off his palm and the side of his finger. Evan kisses him after, licking into his mouth. Then he gropes for his workout towel and wipes them down, tossing it toward the washing machine.
“Shower,” he says, shifting back so he can get up.
Tommy holds his hips and kisses his belly, nuzzling the softness and the hair there. He loves every part of Evan, but this is one of his favorite spots to love. When he's had his fill, he gets up and kisses his smiling husband.
“Get the water going, I need to throw together a marinade for dinner,” Tommy says, smacking his ass as Evan walks ahead of him. When they get inside, Evan retaliates by slapping Tommy's ass so hard it actually hurts. Tommy pins him against the door to the garage and slaps his twice before backing away with a grin.
“Just you fucking wait,” Evan threatens, pushing away from the door and looking at Tommy with sparkling, mischievous eyes.
“Uh, that was retaliation for the bruise I'll be getting on my ass,” Tommy says, smacking Evan's hands away when he tries to get at Tommy's nipples.
They end up chasing each other to the living room and crashing into the couch, pinching and smacking at each other with laughter and yelps peppered between threats and futile attempts at calling a truce. Tommy ends up with Evan’s pec between his teeth and Evan has a cluster of Tommy's leg hairs between his fingers, ready to pull.
“Actual truce,” Evan says, holding out his other hand. Tommy eyes it with suspicion but shakes slowly. “We let go on three.”
Evan counts them down, and Tommy lets go of his pec as Evan releases the hairs, which are still safely attached to his body.
“Are you hard again?” Evan asks, and Tommy nods. “Fuck, same.”
Roughhousing always gets them riled up, so it shouldn't come as a surprise. It happens at least once every couple weeks, like a release of energy. It’s why they can't practice Muay Thai at Tommy's gym anymore. Tommy licks across the light impression his teeth left and smile when Evan shivers.
“Go start the shower,” he says softly, shifting up to kiss Evan and grind against the side of his ass. “And I'll deal with the marinade and join you.”
“‘Kay,” Evan breathes, licking his lips. “Then what?”
Tommy slips his fingers under Evan's shorts and grabs his ass firmly. “Depends on what you're doing when I get there.”
Then he gets up and walks into the kitchen, smiling when he hears Evan all but run into the bathroom.
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