tell me you love me in private
for @aringofsalt my beloved đź’›
bucktommy; post s7 canon divergence; rated explicit; 4k words cw for exhibitionism/voyeurism kink
“Please, j-just think about it. Yeah?”Â
“I hate saunas. It feels like walking into Satan’s headquarters.”
Evan snorts, the result of a barely-suppressed giggle. Tommy spares a glance to see the way his face lights up when he laughs, before quickly returning to the task at hand, dicing carrots and celery. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Evan’s face resettle into its previous expression — that half-inch quirk of his eyebrows, eyes round, and his irresistibly plump mouth formed into a devastating pout.Â
“You liked the one in Ōita.” Evan murmurs, voice soft. He steps closer and reaches out to drag a finger along the length of Tommy’s arm, from his shoulder down to his wrist, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his bare skin.
Now he’s playing dirty.
Tommy’s used to it by now — Evan knows he’s got him wrapped around his finger and weaponises that fact at every opportunity.Â
Or he thinks he does, anyway.
Sometimes, Tommy likes to play along; Evan will ask him to choose between two options — whether to go out, or stay in and enjoy a quiet night in. Tommy will hum, pretend to think about it, watch for the way Evan bites down on his bottom lip when their eyes meet, then say, “Yeah, let’s stay in,” because he knows Evan’s exhausted. Then Evan will step into his space and pull him into a kiss, and ask, “Movie or documentary?” and they’ll go another round.Â
If anything, this is a rarity. The idea sounds exciting, but it’s a few steps outside of Tommy’s comfort zone, and he’s regretting his choice to wear a tank top this evening. Evan won’t stop touching him and it’s distracting him a great deal.Â
[continue reading on ao3]

















