#filamints

“Mr. Freeman, please!” Tommy scolds, then ducks himself as Sunkist lunges over the couch after the napkin. “That wasn’t very polite!”

“That wasn’t - he’s not polite!” Gordon yelps. Benrey just sticks his tongue out at him.

“It’s his house, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says primly. 

“It’s your house,” Gordon counters. “He just happens to live here, too.”

Benrey has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Gordon has been out of town for two months on some sort of weird work thing where he was loaned out to another lab for some fancy collaboration project, and it’s clear he’s still out of tune with the group. They had played some multiplayer games with him when he was gone, but he was pretty busy and their schedules didn’t always line up, so this was the first time the whole group was together since he’d gotten back.

“If it’s Tommy’s house, doesn’t he get to say whose house it is?” Benrey says.

Gordon gapes at him for a moment. “That doesn’t - that doesn’t make any sense!”

“You don’t make any sense,” Benrey retorts.

“Your face doesn’t -”

“I think it’s good that you lost, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer interrupts, which obviously throws Gordon off. “Now, you have a stronger motivation to win! Feel the anger burning in your heart, Gordon! Where’s your rage? Where’s your fucking rage -”

Bubby places a hand on his shoulder, and Dr. Coomer twitches, then deflates slightly from where he’d been leaning over the coffee table. 

“Terribly sorry about that,” he says brightly. “I got a bit carried away.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Bubby says, and daintily stirs his drink with its tiny umbrella. “Tommy, this cocktail is disgusting. Do you have any Amaretto?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I’ll go check.” Bubby smirked at Gordon as Tommy leaned forward to put the controller on the coffee table. He tapped it three times, then slapped his knees and stood up, swinging around the arm of the couch to walk behind it. Automatically, Benrey tipped his head back and Tommy ducked down and smacked a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he passed by. It was part of the pattern, a comfortable habit. Benrey didn’t even think about it as he dipped his chin back to his chest and used his controller to tab to a new race so they could start before Tommy got back, just like Gordon wanted. Maybe he’d stop complaining as much if he got beaten by somebody else this time.

And speaking of Gordon…

“What the fuck was THAT?”

“Huh?” Benrey blinks and looks over at him. Gordon is gaping at him, flailing one hand in that over-the-top way of his. 

“What - don’t - that! How long has that been going on?” Gordon’s flailing both hands now.

“I’m glad you asked, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer chirps. “The earliest reference to kissing-like behavior comes from the Vedas, Sanskrit scriptures that -”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Gordon barks. Bubby is watching Gordon with raised eyebrows. Dr. Coomer seems unfazed by the interruption, using Gordon’s distraction to snag his bowl of chips and tug it over to their side of the table. Bubby eats one without taking his eyes off Gordon’s attempt to transform into a wacky inflatable car dealership balloon man.

“I’m not - I just - is this a thing now?” Gordon gestures at Benrey, who weighs the pros and cons of pushing him into a complete meltdown.

Before he can decide, Tommy leans over the back of the couch with a bottle of orange liquid in his hands. “Is there a problem, Mr. Freeman?”

Gordon freezes, then sits back in his seat. They could all hear the edge of Tommy’s father in his voice. Benrey grins shamelessly up at Tommy, who leans down and gives him a deliberate kiss on the lips. 

“I don’t have any, um, Amaretto,” Tommy says to Bubby, “but I did - I found this orange vodka. Will that work?”

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Bubby shrugs, and reaches a hand out. “Give it here.”

“What the fuck,” Gordon whispers as Tommy hands the bottle over.

“What, Freeman, are you a, uh, a homophone?” Benrey smirks.

“I’m not -”

“Gordon, don’t be such a prude,” Dr. Coomer chastizes, hand-feeding one of Gordon’s chips to Bubby. Gordon puts his head in his hands.

“I’m not homopobic,” he says to the floor. “I’m just - I was just surprised! I didn’t know you guys were a thing.” He looks back up and pastes an awkward smile on. “But, congratulations, I guess?”

“S’not like it’s new,” Benrey said. “You’re just, uh…” He can’t think of the word.

“You’re not very observant, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says as he sits back down next to Benrey on the couch. He clasps his hands and taps his thumbs together, then reaches out and picks up his controller again.

“Was being in Alabama contagious?” Bubby asks, and Gordon groans.

“I’m not homophobic!” He repeats. “I just wasn’t expecting that!”

“I dunno why you’re so concerned with, uh, what Tommy does in his own house,” Benrey says, and Gordon makes a noise like a busted engine. Benrey grins, the mean edge to his smile softening when he feels Tommy’s hand come down on his and squeeze.

“I think Mr. Freeman needs some time to adjust,” Tommy says primly. “He might - um, maybe he should sit this game out.”

“Sounds good to me!” Bubby replies, and they all scramble for their controllers before Gordon has a chance to react. With little effort, Benrey manages to hook his arm through Tommy’s, which means they’ll be playing with linked arms. Tommy just bumps Benrey with his shoulder and starts the race, settling comfortably against him so their sides are touching.