#ilsayhtdwtf

x Reader saying all the right things to put Tom’s mind at ease. (As much as it can be, anyhow.)

x Tom lecturing Evan before they go inside to behave.

“It’s not like with Ruth, alright? But they’re not one of your little friends, either. The usual act’s not going to work this time so don’t even think about being smart.”

“Nice try.” You watch the back of Evan- whose leg hangs out of your window- jolt before freezing. You lean against the doorframe to your guest bedroom, hands in your pockets. “It wasn’t that long ago since I was your age. Get back here.” Evan’s shoulders slump, his head tipping back with a groan before he turns around in defeat. You cock an eyebrow at the bratty display. “Hey. What’s so bad about my place, huh? You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” Your head falls to the side, expression in a faux pout.

“I just wanna see my friends.” He mumbles, eyes failing to meet your own.

“What am I, chopped liver? We’re friends.” You stick your head out into his line of vision, sidling towards the teen with an unbothered air about you. Evan just scoffs, shaking his head. “What do your friends got that I don’t?” The boy’s head dips down, avoiding your gaze, biting the inside of his cheek in a failed attempt to hide a smile you recognise from his father.

“Pot.” Now it was your turn to scoff.

“Like I don’t got pot.” You say, rolling your eyes with a single huff of laughter. “What do you think I do when your Dad and I hang out? Paperwork?” Evan opens his mouth- lips already in a smirk to reply before actually processing the words you said and failing to find his own. You allow him a moment- leaning back to watch the gears turn with amusement. “Come on.” You nod towards the door. Shutting the window before following him out.

x Reader and Evan halving a brownie and chilling in the living room most of the night.

x The reader at one point offering to take Evan to his friends- which he declines.

x ^ Leads into StonedChat™️ about how Evan’s friends really aren’t the greatest. Then a whole other plethora of teen angst issues.

x Reader lets him get it all out nonjudgmentally.

“You’re a good kid. And your father’s a good man, too. Must be… hereditary or something.” You mumble the last part, pursing your lips before finding your original line of thought again in your mind’s fuzzy state. Turning your head to face Evan now. Both of you on your backs on the floor. “So take it just a touch easier, could ya? Old man worries too much.” Evan turns his head from the ceiling to you now, a little betrayal in his eyes as he opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “I know you’re not getting into trouble. But he doesn’t. Not tryna… lecture you or anything. ‘M not your daddy or some old fart.” You take a breath in and exhale. “You feel me?” Evan’s eyebrows had shot up a little, unused to not being prosecuted. Before he could help himself a smile spreads across his features.

“Yeah.” A pause. “Thanks.” Your expression mirrors his own, sitting up and holding out your fist.

“Ain’t no thang.” You hum with a grin. He bumps his fist to yours and follows you in sitting up. You yawn and stretch. “Let’s get to bed. You brought pjs?” Evan shakes his head, making you laugh. “‘Course not. Weren’t even planning on staying the night, bastard.” You get to your feet now, helping him up. “Alright, let’s get you something comfortable.” With no urgency, you two mill up the staircase. You open the door to your room, striding over to the wardrobe. Looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Evan hovering awkwardly in the doorway, feeling odd about stepping over the threshold into your space. “Dude. You can look around if you want. It’s cool.” With your permission, he walks in. Still slow at first, before posters on the wall grab his attention.

“Woah.”

“You a fan?”

“I’ve-“ he turns a little sheepish. Mouth pushing to the side before answering. “Actually never heard of any of these bands before.” He scrunches up his face- bracing to be made fun of.

“Oh what? Your Dad’s place got a CD player?” Evan opens his eyes, expression blank for a moment before answering with a yes.

“You can borrow whatever you want from my collection, so long as you take care of them and bring ‘em back. Bottom part of the bedside table.” You hear a ‘woah’ behind you and smile to yourself as you return to what you were doing in the closet. Finding appropriate sleepwear, you shut the doors and turn on your heels.

“These are-“ Evan, who was crouched down filing through CDs, cuts himself off. His eyes widening as they catch on something on top of your bedside table.

“Is that you?”

“Uh oh.” You smirk, shrugging. “Yeah.” You admit with a nod.

“Your hair. You were…”

“Emo, I know-“

“Really cool!” You punch him lightly.

“I am really cool. Thank you very much. Just a little less angsty.” He’s unfazed, still gawking at the picture of you, eyes going over other old pictures around the room. “Only a little though.” You wink. Handing him the clothes to sleep in. An old band tee and some sweats. “Go get changed.” You give him a playful little push to shake him. He smiles lopsidedly, shaking his head in disbelief as he leaves for down the hall CDs in hand.

x Reader gets changed, too. Before bringing a cup of warm milk to Evan’s room.

x “I know you’re not a kid. But. Warm milk.”

x Evan accepts it, staring into the mug in his hands with a tough to read expression.

x Reader silently empathises.

“K. So. Rules.” Evan’s brows furrow as you break the silence. “One. No telling your friends about my brownies. Cool kids only.” You tap your pointer to his chest. “Two. No telling your Dad I gave you a brownie.” Evan smirks slightly at the thought. Likely imagining his father’s reaction. You couldn’t blame him- you were imagining it too. And it was pretty funny. “Three. Absolutely no telling your Dad that I told you that me and your Dad do pot.” You both can’t help yourselves but to laugh aloud now. “G’night, Evan.” Your expression settles into a soft smile before you push off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.” You joke snapping a finger gun at him in the doorway before shutting it gently.

x The next morning Tom is a jittery mess. His hands are constantly finding their way to carding through his curls.

x A million thoughts race through his mind as he tries to occupy his consciousness with getting ready. Once he grabs his keys and sets off in the car, though, the floodgates burst.

x Did Evan cause you trouble?

x Was it too much?

x Did he spring this on you too early?

x Too early into *what*?

x Tom smacks his steering wheel, rolling down a window to try and expel the nervous energy filling the car.

x He arrives at the reader’s place ready to apologise for any and everything possible.

When you open the door, the sounds of television leak out unto the porch.

“Mr Loftis.” You grin at the ironic formality. Still in what you wore to bed last night.

“Please.” He immediately falls into place with a small smile of his own and a roll of the eyes.

“Come in. Cereal?”

“Uhh no thanks I’m…” he trails off as his eyes move from your figure headed towards the kitchen to the living room where his son sits, eating a bowl of cereal and watching cartoons. “…Fine?”

“You don’t care about him having sugary cereal, do you?”

“You just have sugary cereal?”

“You don’t? No wonder he’s trying to run away all the time.” You grin and Tom sags a little. You lean over to bump your side against his. “You know it’s all in jest, Tom.” He hums.

“Do I even need to ask if the cartoons were your idea?” He raises an eyebrow.

x Reader smiles as they watch Evan get in the car.

x Tom gives “Thank you” eyes from the driver’s side door before getting in himself.