#thod

Language of flowers guide real quick because Thomas is a nerd that doesn't know proper pacing of dating or how fast he should be moving

Gladioli: Strength, Integrity, Flower of the gladiator

Heliotrope: Eternal love, Devotion

Thomas liked days where he could relax, idly pushing chicken around in a pan while it cooked, a Tony Bennet record playing from the living room, his darling sitting at the kitchen table. The sweet domesticity is something he never had as a child, not in a space like this, not with someone like them. Pushing himself off of the counter, Thomas turns the pan onto low, does the same with the pot of sauce, and sets the wooden spoon on the towel. Socked feet quiet his footsteps as he pads over to his lover at the small kitchen table, leaning over their shoulder to look at the incident report they’re filling out. Another accidental fire, one that wasn’t set by his partner, but that they’ll take the blame for anyway. He slowly leans down, chin hooking over their shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to their cheek.

“Dinner’s almost finished, hon'. How’s the report coming?”

His voice is soft as he starts to squeeze and rub Red’s shoulders, sympathetically wincing at the tension he feels in the muscles. Each little push of his fingers has his partner slowly relaxing, and Thomas works his way down Red’s arms, taking his time with each one. He pulls their left hand away from the files, lifting it to his lips to kiss each finger tip, thumbs working into his palm.

Red is an anomaly in Thomas's mind, something impossible and yet all too real. Soft hair and softer eyes that hide a past Thomas doesn't question. He may be open with his own struggles, working on himself everyday to be a better version of himself. But he always strives to be the best for Red. Each therapy session, each hurdle they face that is talked through, Thomas does for Red.

And yet, and yet, Red will call him perfect. Pulls him closer by his shirt collar so their nose can brush against Thomas's cheekbone, a tired smile on their face as they set down their pen. Red doesn't fight as Thomas slides the chair away from the table, the older man crouching in front of them with cracking knees. His hands find purchase on Red's thighs, smoothing out the fabric of their skirt as their hands card through his hair.

"It's... well, s' goin', let's settle with tha'. Soap's gonna owe me a favour for coverin' his arse. I wouldn' mind a distraction though, dinner smells amazin'."

Thomas smiles at the compliment, moving his hands down to tht hem of the skirt, lifting slowly, fingers digging into the muscle of Red's calves and knees. He doesn't need to rush, not with Red, not right now.

"Dinner can simmer for a while longer, will make the sauce better anyways."

It's not often that Thomas gets into these kinds of moods, the ones that have him wanting and a little needy. They come randomly, his eyes darkening whenever he looks at Red, imagining all the ways to take them apart. Just like now, though, it's never about his own pleasure. He ducks under the skirt, taking a deep breath as he encloses the musk of Red's body around him. It's not like Red is very sweaty, but they've been moving around all day, a visit to the museum and the zoo today that has left them just that perfect state of sweaty and tired.

Thomas has never really been a fan of eating box, but he's learnt a lot about himself while dating Red. Like the fact that some brands of underwear have cartoon kangaroos on them, and that Red loves them. Thomas snorts at the sight before pressing his nose against them with a smile.

"Absolutely mental, darlin'... I love them." Red swats at him, hits the top of his head with some grumbling about comfort, as if Thomas doesn't get this exact brand of briefs in solid colours.

There's no need for rushing, and Thomas spends a few minutes just kneeling there, nose pressed into the crook of where Red's thigh meets his pelvic bone, smiling and occasionally kissing the skin there. He keeps his hands behind his back this time, and though his knee doesn't really like it, Thomas tries to put as little weight on Red as possible. The plan for a slow evening goes out the window as Red gives an impatient whine, pushing their hips forward and putting a hand on the back of Thomas's head.

"C'mon, Tommy- m'hungry n' you're being a tease." Thomas blushes at the nickname, will never get used to somebody calling him 'Tommy' when he usually hates the cutesy name.

"Yes, sir."

He doesn't hesitate, not with his love getting impatient, and Thomas presses the flat of his tongue against the warm core hidden behind kangaroo briefs. Red gives a relieved sigh, hooks their legs over Thomas's shoulders to pull the man closer. Only then does Thomas break position, using his hands to pull the briefs down to Red's thighs, finally getting to the main event.

He starts softly, kissing their inner thighs, then just above on his hips, before finally getting home. Thomas licks and sucks and utterly devours Red, only using his mouth to bring his lover pleasure. He'll never get tired of their smell, of their taste, of the way Red grinds and pushes and uses him.

"Thomas! Fuck, baby, please!"

While Thomas doesn't care about the way his pants tighten, he's absolutely pitiful kneeling between Red's thighs. He's all flushed cheeks, chest heaving with each breath, his lower face a mess when he finally brings Red to their peak. He slows, only enough to let the high drift naturally, mouth still pressed against him, murmuring voice a gentle buzz.