[More Hal/Tom fics]
[Shopping]
There are a lot of things that Hal has been since he met Leo, and started his routines. His solid effort to keep his darker parts at bay. There are more things that he has been since he lost them, since he met Annie and Tom. ‘Complacent’ has never been one of those things. He knows who the man waiting in the wings is, what he is capable of, in a way that he knows Tom and Annie don’t. That they only know this other man, routines and rituals and superstitions built around himself like a cage to keep himself and all of his faces just far enough away from the world. He knows what holds the demon at bay because it is the only thing that has worked like this in the times that he’s tried. He knows not to chance them, and he knows a million other things that he must do when he sees them, countless tiny rules that he must be sure the universe abides by.
It’s because Tom and Annie don’t understand that yet that he finds hiumself in the middle of a grocery store, carefully re-organizing a display of canned peas by expiration date and insuring that the labels face out perfectly instead of sinking his teeth into one of the far too many shoppers going on their way. By the time he feels someone tap his shoulder, it’s been ten minutes and he’s forgotten what he was sent into the aisle for in the first place, and organized an entire brand’s line of products.
“This is insane,” he snaps after his momentary shock passes, whirling around with intent to give Tom yet another piece of his mind regarding his involvement in the trip. “And don’t you dare say a word about how long I’m…taking..” His vitriolic rant is cut short by the realization that he is staring at a little old woman and he backs up subconsciously, pressing against the shelves he’s just been organizing.
She smiles at him though, unnerving him even further, and pats his arm as he stares down at the point of contact. “Working you hard in here deary, aren’t they? Don’t worry, you’re doing a find job, just like my Bruce. Very thorough. I’ll only bother you a mo’, can you tell me where they’ve got the flour hidden these days?”
Hal blinks at her, mouth slightly agape as he tries to remember if he’s seen the flour, “I don’t work here…” said low as if she’s caused him to temporarily forget that fact.
“Seven,” he hears someone call, and Hal fills with a unique mixture of relief and annoyance when he realizes it’s Tom. The woman looks over at him, and he continues on. “Flour y’were askin’ abou’ right?”
“Thank you, dear. Oh..” she tells him, and then puts a hand beside her mouth to tell him, quieter, “I think this young man could use a break. he seems very tense.” Tom nods in understanding, and before he can open his mouth, she’s already gone on her way.
Tom watches for a moment as Hal stands still with his eyes closed, back still against the shelves, and the bustle of the crowded supermarket continues on around them. “Hal..?” The question goes almost unnoticed and he slips his hand around Hal’s, feeling a small flicker of something warm in his chest when Hal turned and looked at his face, not his hand.
“This…” Hal starts to say, his grip on Tom’s hand purposefully tight, “Is your idea of empty?”
The shrug that Tom gives is one shouldered, though his expression is at least slightly apologetic. “There’s a game on, or somefin’, ‘ow was I suppos’d t’know? D’you get the beans’re ya jus’ providin’ the store wif free labor?”
Hal opens his mouth, but closes it again when Tom gives him a soft look, shaking his head before speaking. “I haven’t made it that far. I’ll get them.” He tells Tom, thankful for the reminder, and edges away from the shelf, letting go of Tom’s hand and straightening his clothes and an errant can before the two of them start down the aisle.
[Announcement]
“I don’t see why we need to make an announcement,” Hal complains, low, as he makes his way down the stairs. Tom shakes his head from in front of him, turning to face him at the final stair.
“It’s not all tha’ is it? ‘S jus’ Annie. Tha’s alrigh’ isn’it? I mean, ‘s not-” Tom starts, his voice casual though his eyes are almost plaintive. Hal cuts him off with something that’s almost a scowl.
“Of course not. I just don’t see how it’s any of her business, that’s all.”
“Who’s business would that be then?” Annie asks, her arms crossed as she draws near them, nodding to the couch. “Off the stairs then, trust me you don’t want to play on those.”
Tom moves obediently to the couch to sit down while Hal turns instead, heading to the table he had claimed for his dominoes, and sitting down.
“I asked you a question,” Annie tells him, voice firm, and he ignores her, opening the case with care and clearing away the specks of dust on it. She narrows her eyes but gives up as he lifts his first domino of the morning, whirling to face the couch instead. “Tom-?”
”..Hal..?” Tom asks, his gaze moving back and forth between the other two, cautious. Hal sighs harshly, his hand shaking as he places a domino that he’s gripping too hard.
“Go on then,” he orders him, his tone flat and his attention clearly elsewhere.
“Well..?”
“Righ’,” Tom starts, sitting up a little straighter as he looks at Annie. “…well, first’ive gotta check. In the ‘ouse rules-” Annie nods, and he continues, “Tha’ part abou’ not bringin’ ‘ome any girls.. Issat abou’ makin’ sure no’un sees a floatin’ baby or no relationships? An’ if it’s the last one, does it jus’ count the ladies, or blokes, too?”
Annie watched his expectant gaze and frowned slightly, considering, just for a minute, the possibility of seeing if she could actually read his mind if she tried. She decided that would be rude. “I definitely don’t want anyone that we don’t know we can trust one hundred percent in the house. It’s dangerous, for Eve. Dating probably isnt a very good idea either, with everything that’s going on… But why do you ask, Tom?”
“We’re courtin’, Hal an’ me, ” Tom says, finally, straight to the point. Somewhere into his first curve, Hal laughs almost silently at the word choice, and Annie blinks at Tom slowly, but then smiles at him in surprise.
“Oh yeah? Who?” She asks, confident that the idea the sentence had given her couldn’t be quite right. Tom just looks at her for a moment before opening his mouth.
“…us. Hal’n me, like I jus’ toldya. I figure tha’s alrigh, iss’nit? On accoun’ of Hal’s not a girl, an he’s living ‘ere an’ all. But I thou’ I’d ask first, ev’n though ‘s not actually first, an’ we’re sort’ve together already an’ prolly not goin’ to stop if you say. But ‘s-” He’s cut off by a pleased laugh from Annie as she claps her hands.
“It’s fine, Tom,” she tells him, and spreads her arms, “Come here-” he obeys, letting her hug him as he remains somewhat baffled at her reaction, and then watches wide-eyed and almost frozen as he watches her head towards Hal.
Tom doesnt have a chance to speak before Annie has made it over to hug Hal, and he winces at the sound of the dominoes hitting the table when Hal knocks them over in brief shock, and sits staring, concentration lost and frozen for a split second before he raises his voice, strained and irritated, “Annie!”
“Sorry-” she starts, letting go of him and moving to reach for the dominoes and undo the damage she’d done. “Just got a little excited, it’s like the odd couple, and the two of you are just-“
“S’alrigh’, Annie,” Tom tells her, taking her wrist easily and watching Hal’s face with momentary concern. “I’ve got’it. Hand wi’ tha’, Hal..?” He asks, carefully, and Hal lets out a long breath before nodding in his direction and trying to still his hand enough to put the fallen dominoes away so they could start anew.
“If I knew you would be so excited I would have had him wait until I was finished to tell you,” Hal says, tearing his attention from the dominoes long enough to glance sideways at Annie. His words are lighter than the tension in his voice, a barely noticeable acceptance of the apology.
“…I’m thrilled for you. Really,” she tells them, with a small smile, the apology caught. Tom glances back, thanking her with a quick smile before she backs off, and goes to finish getting breakfast ready.
[Changes]
“Yer gettin’ shaggy,” Tom tells Hal, relaxed as he plays with his almost-dry hair. The two of them lay in the bed, freshly showered and dried for the sake of keeping them both comfortable. Hal can feel Tom behind him, his warmth, and he it’s only the words that drag him out of what was the most relaxed he almost felt in a long time. “You’ll need’an ‘aircut.”
“Leo cuts my hair. Just Leo.” Hal almost snaps, stretching his neck to move his head out from under Tom’s idle fingers, edging away on the bed. The words weigh heavily on his chest, the misused tense, and he thinks it’s been a long, long time that it has actually hurt to lose anyone. But running his own fingers through his hair reveals the truth in Tom’s words. It was getting long again, and while there were some times that was appropriate for, he didn’t think he was prepared to deal with that. Not when he didn’t have any idea what it looked like, what it would look like.
Tom’s hand on his shoulder almost manages to still him, but he doesn’t turn to look at him, though he does move when he feels him close the space again. “Me dad had long ‘air once, a long time ago. I don’t think it’d suit you.” Tom’s voice is casual, still, and the fact almost makes Hal laugh, but he’s stopped by that weight on his chest, the reminder again when Tom’s words turn soft. “Can’t go t’a proper barber’s but I’ve been cuttin’ me own, and I could give your’s a go, if ya’d like. I know ‘m not Leo, bu’…he can’ cut’yer ‘air anymo’, Hal.”
“I don’t want to loose all of my hair.” Hal tells him, and the remark comes out less sharp than he expected it to, all things considered.
“Mayb’ Annie could do’it then,” he suggests, and Hal nearly snorts.
“I’d rather you,” Hal says, almost flatly, but part of him means it. By no means does he trust either of them with the task, but he’d sworn off of ponytails a few hundred years ago. “Later,” he adds, before Tom can speak, his mind made up, “But if even one person laughs, I refuse to go to work until it’s grown back that Annie can look at me with a straight face.”
The next evening found them gathered in the kitchen, a new trash bag with a hole cut out for Hal’s head over his shoulders to keep the hair away from his clothes, and an old shaving kit and the best scissors Annie could find in the house laid out on the table. Annie herself stood less than ten feet away with Eve in her arms, watching with vague concern as Tom gave the razor in the kit a once over. “You’re sure about this?” she asks Hal, and he gives her a look that, once upon a time, would have sent grown men running for their lives.
“I was,” he tells her pointedly instead when it doesn’t have the desired effect on her. “I wasn’t aware the ordeal came with an audience.” Beside him he can hear the razor buzz to life in Tom’s hands, and he rests his hands on his knees, gripping them tightly as he closes his eyes, attention turned over to him. “…just get this over with.”
His mind wanders during what must be far less time than it feels like, Tom and Annie’s voices an anchor, something almost comfortable.
“…’s a bit shorter than when ya got’ere, bu’..” Tom starts to say, and Hal opens his eyes, finally, to see Annie looking at him thoughtfully with her head tilted, a smile growing on her fact that makes him fear until she speaks.
“…that’s actually a good look for him,” she comments, surprised, and he fights the bag to try to raise his hands and feel his head, Tom putting a hand over his to stop him. Hal ignores the halting, reaching up anyway to feel his hair.
It doesn’t feel as bad as he thinks he’s been afraid, and he wipes away the tickling loose hair where he feels it, fighting his way out of the trash bag and to his feet, without a word, Leo and his mirrors still sitting in the back of his mind. “…s’alrigh’, issinit?” Tom asks, and his expression is enough to make Hal smile at him.
“You’ve got the job,” Hal tells him, almost surprising himself, and leaning over carefully to kiss him while Annie grins somewhere behind him, and takes Eve out of the room.
They linger together, in the kitchen for a few moments longer before they part ways, Tom to relieve Annie of the baby so she could start dinner and Hal to his dominoes to reclaim control of his mind again from the reflections of a man holding up a handheld mirror. From what changed to lead into the moment that he was in now.
By the time they watch television, later, the two of them sitting close on the couch and Annie only marginally further away, he thinks he’s alright again.
[Damp]
Hal is listening to music when he hears a knock on the front door, and he almost ignores it, or calls for Annie, but she’s upstairs putting Eve to sleep and the last thing he wants is half an hour of listening to her cry again.
“Who’s there?” he asks, voice even as he turns off the music and heads to the door, cautious.
” ‘s me, Hal,” he hears, Tom’s tone almost plaintiff and he opens the door to find him standing there holding a pair of plastic bags, completely drenched. “I forgo’ the key,” Tom offers as way of apology and Hal takes a large step back, allowing him a wide berth for entry.
Tom enters, starting to make his way accross the living room, leaving a damp trail behind him until Hal speaks up, visibly bothered. “Stop. Right there. One moment!”
It takes a matter of seconds for Hal to climb the stairs, and Tom stands shivering in the middle of the living room, keeping a firm hold on his patience to keep from putting the groceries away as he can barely make out Hal speaking to Annie. In less than a minute though, Hal returns, loaded down with what must be half of the clean towels in the house, and a blanket on top of that, and he drops the pile onto the couch, pulling out what must have once been a beach towel and holding it out between his spread arms, keeping his gaze carefully on Tom’s face, and using the towel to block the rest of him when he spoke. “Strip.”
“Hal,” Tom complains, his eyes flicking from the window to the stairway, his voice somewhat effected by the shivering he was still doing, “I’ll get the drips, ‘m not goin’ta take off me clothes in the living room.”
“You’re freezing,” Hal tells him flatly, “and you’re not getting a cold around me. I’ve asked Annie to stay upstairs, and the door is locked and the window frosted, and I promise not to look. Do it.”
Tom sighs, long-sufferingly, but puts down the bag and takes off his coat, moving onto his shirt before he notices Hal still standing there holding the towel, eyes closed and head turned away. “Y’don’ hafta do tha’ y’know,” he tells him, rolling his eyes briefly while he continues to undress. “It’s no’ like ya’ve never seen me in the nuddy before.”
Hal doesn’t respond, and Tom shakes his head, putting the last of his clothes in the pile and moving forward to take the towel he was holding off of him, startling him and taking advantage of the opportunity to hug him with the towel between them.
“Ha,” he tells Hal, and there’s a moment of shock before Hal actually moves, laughing just softly and wrapping the towel, and his own arms around him, his small smile only partially forced.
“Dry off,” Hal tells him finally, tucking the towel in around the back and just barely kissing him before he can change his mind about the idea, Tom’s lips cold against his. “I’ll put the things away.”
Tom obeys, wrapping himself up in the blanket once he finishes, and follows Hal into the kitchen where he’s started to boil water, and kisses the back of his neck before going to curl up on the couch and wait for him.
There are a lot of things that Hal has been since he met Leo, and started his routines. His solid effort to keep his darker parts at bay. There are more things that he has been since he lost them, since he met Annie and Tom. ‘Complacent’ has never been one of those things. He knows who the man waiting in the wings is, what he is capable of, in a way that he knows Tom and Annie don’t. That they only know this other man, routines and rituals and superstitions built around himself like a cage to keep himself and all of his faces just far enough away from the world. He knows what holds the demon at bay because it is the only thing that has worked like this in the times that he’s tried. He knows not to chance them, and he knows a million other things that he must do when he sees them, countless tiny rules that he must be sure the universe abides by.
It’s because Tom and Annie don’t understand that yet that he finds hiumself in the middle of a grocery store, carefully re-organizing a display of canned peas by expiration date and insuring that the labels face out perfectly instead of sinking his teeth into one of the far too many shoppers going on their way. By the time he feels someone tap his shoulder, it’s been ten minutes and he’s forgotten what he was sent into the aisle for in the first place, and organized an entire brand’s line of products.
“This is insane,” he snaps after his momentary shock passes, whirling around with intent to give Tom yet another piece of his mind regarding his involvement in the trip. “And don’t you dare say a word about how long I’m…taking..” His vitriolic rant is cut short by the realization that he is staring at a little old woman and he backs up subconsciously, pressing against the shelves he’s just been organizing.
She smiles at him though, unnerving him even further, and pats his arm as he stares down at the point of contact. “Working you hard in here deary, aren’t they? Don’t worry, you’re doing a find job, just like my Bruce. Very thorough. I’ll only bother you a mo’, can you tell me where they’ve got the flour hidden these days?”
Hal blinks at her, mouth slightly agape as he tries to remember if he’s seen the flour, “I don’t work here…” said low as if she’s caused him to temporarily forget that fact.
“Seven,” he hears someone call, and Hal fills with a unique mixture of relief and annoyance when he realizes it’s Tom. The woman looks over at him, and he continues on. “Flour y’were askin’ abou’ right?”
“Thank you, dear. Oh..” she tells him, and then puts a hand beside her mouth to tell him, quieter, “I think this young man could use a break. he seems very tense.” Tom nods in understanding, and before he can open his mouth, she’s already gone on her way.
Tom watches for a moment as Hal stands still with his eyes closed, back still against the shelves, and the bustle of the crowded supermarket continues on around them. “Hal..?” The question goes almost unnoticed and he slips his hand around Hal’s, feeling a small flicker of something warm in his chest when Hal turned and looked at his face, not his hand.
“This…” Hal starts to say, his grip on Tom’s hand purposefully tight, “Is your idea of empty?”
The shrug that Tom gives is one shouldered, though his expression is at least slightly apologetic. “There’s a game on, or somefin’, ‘ow was I suppos’d t’know? D’you get the beans’re ya jus’ providin’ the store wif free labor?”
Hal opens his mouth, but closes it again when Tom gives him a soft look, shaking his head before speaking. “I haven’t made it that far. I’ll get them.” He tells Tom, thankful for the reminder, and edges away from the shelf, letting go of Tom’s hand and straightening his clothes and an errant can before the two of them start down the aisle.
[Announcement]
“I don’t see why we need to make an announcement,” Hal complains, low, as he makes his way down the stairs. Tom shakes his head from in front of him, turning to face him at the final stair.
“It’s not all tha’ is it? ‘S jus’ Annie. Tha’s alrigh’ isn’it? I mean, ‘s not-” Tom starts, his voice casual though his eyes are almost plaintive. Hal cuts him off with something that’s almost a scowl.
“Of course not. I just don’t see how it’s any of her business, that’s all.”
“Who’s business would that be then?” Annie asks, her arms crossed as she draws near them, nodding to the couch. “Off the stairs then, trust me you don’t want to play on those.”
Tom moves obediently to the couch to sit down while Hal turns instead, heading to the table he had claimed for his dominoes, and sitting down.
“I asked you a question,” Annie tells him, voice firm, and he ignores her, opening the case with care and clearing away the specks of dust on it. She narrows her eyes but gives up as he lifts his first domino of the morning, whirling to face the couch instead. “Tom-?”
”..Hal..?” Tom asks, his gaze moving back and forth between the other two, cautious. Hal sighs harshly, his hand shaking as he places a domino that he’s gripping too hard.
“Go on then,” he orders him, his tone flat and his attention clearly elsewhere.
“Well..?”
“Righ’,” Tom starts, sitting up a little straighter as he looks at Annie. “…well, first’ive gotta check. In the ‘ouse rules-” Annie nods, and he continues, “Tha’ part abou’ not bringin’ ‘ome any girls.. Issat abou’ makin’ sure no’un sees a floatin’ baby or no relationships? An’ if it’s the last one, does it jus’ count the ladies, or blokes, too?”
Annie watched his expectant gaze and frowned slightly, considering, just for a minute, the possibility of seeing if she could actually read his mind if she tried. She decided that would be rude. “I definitely don’t want anyone that we don’t know we can trust one hundred percent in the house. It’s dangerous, for Eve. Dating probably isnt a very good idea either, with everything that’s going on… But why do you ask, Tom?”
“We’re courtin’, Hal an’ me, ” Tom says, finally, straight to the point. Somewhere into his first curve, Hal laughs almost silently at the word choice, and Annie blinks at Tom slowly, but then smiles at him in surprise.
“Oh yeah? Who?” She asks, confident that the idea the sentence had given her couldn’t be quite right. Tom just looks at her for a moment before opening his mouth.
“…us. Hal’n me, like I jus’ toldya. I figure tha’s alrigh, iss’nit? On accoun’ of Hal’s not a girl, an he’s living ‘ere an’ all. But I thou’ I’d ask first, ev’n though ‘s not actually first, an’ we’re sort’ve together already an’ prolly not goin’ to stop if you say. But ‘s-” He’s cut off by a pleased laugh from Annie as she claps her hands.
“It’s fine, Tom,” she tells him, and spreads her arms, “Come here-” he obeys, letting her hug him as he remains somewhat baffled at her reaction, and then watches wide-eyed and almost frozen as he watches her head towards Hal.
Tom doesnt have a chance to speak before Annie has made it over to hug Hal, and he winces at the sound of the dominoes hitting the table when Hal knocks them over in brief shock, and sits staring, concentration lost and frozen for a split second before he raises his voice, strained and irritated, “Annie!”
“Sorry-” she starts, letting go of him and moving to reach for the dominoes and undo the damage she’d done. “Just got a little excited, it’s like the odd couple, and the two of you are just-“
“S’alrigh’, Annie,” Tom tells her, taking her wrist easily and watching Hal’s face with momentary concern. “I’ve got’it. Hand wi’ tha’, Hal..?” He asks, carefully, and Hal lets out a long breath before nodding in his direction and trying to still his hand enough to put the fallen dominoes away so they could start anew.
“If I knew you would be so excited I would have had him wait until I was finished to tell you,” Hal says, tearing his attention from the dominoes long enough to glance sideways at Annie. His words are lighter than the tension in his voice, a barely noticeable acceptance of the apology.
“…I’m thrilled for you. Really,” she tells them, with a small smile, the apology caught. Tom glances back, thanking her with a quick smile before she backs off, and goes to finish getting breakfast ready.
[Changes]
“Yer gettin’ shaggy,” Tom tells Hal, relaxed as he plays with his almost-dry hair. The two of them lay in the bed, freshly showered and dried for the sake of keeping them both comfortable. Hal can feel Tom behind him, his warmth, and he it’s only the words that drag him out of what was the most relaxed he almost felt in a long time. “You’ll need’an ‘aircut.”
“Leo cuts my hair. Just Leo.” Hal almost snaps, stretching his neck to move his head out from under Tom’s idle fingers, edging away on the bed. The words weigh heavily on his chest, the misused tense, and he thinks it’s been a long, long time that it has actually hurt to lose anyone. But running his own fingers through his hair reveals the truth in Tom’s words. It was getting long again, and while there were some times that was appropriate for, he didn’t think he was prepared to deal with that. Not when he didn’t have any idea what it looked like, what it would look like.
Tom’s hand on his shoulder almost manages to still him, but he doesn’t turn to look at him, though he does move when he feels him close the space again. “Me dad had long ‘air once, a long time ago. I don’t think it’d suit you.” Tom’s voice is casual, still, and the fact almost makes Hal laugh, but he’s stopped by that weight on his chest, the reminder again when Tom’s words turn soft. “Can’t go t’a proper barber’s but I’ve been cuttin’ me own, and I could give your’s a go, if ya’d like. I know ‘m not Leo, bu’…he can’ cut’yer ‘air anymo’, Hal.”
“I don’t want to loose all of my hair.” Hal tells him, and the remark comes out less sharp than he expected it to, all things considered.
“Mayb’ Annie could do’it then,” he suggests, and Hal nearly snorts.
“I’d rather you,” Hal says, almost flatly, but part of him means it. By no means does he trust either of them with the task, but he’d sworn off of ponytails a few hundred years ago. “Later,” he adds, before Tom can speak, his mind made up, “But if even one person laughs, I refuse to go to work until it’s grown back that Annie can look at me with a straight face.”
The next evening found them gathered in the kitchen, a new trash bag with a hole cut out for Hal’s head over his shoulders to keep the hair away from his clothes, and an old shaving kit and the best scissors Annie could find in the house laid out on the table. Annie herself stood less than ten feet away with Eve in her arms, watching with vague concern as Tom gave the razor in the kit a once over. “You’re sure about this?” she asks Hal, and he gives her a look that, once upon a time, would have sent grown men running for their lives.
“I was,” he tells her pointedly instead when it doesn’t have the desired effect on her. “I wasn’t aware the ordeal came with an audience.” Beside him he can hear the razor buzz to life in Tom’s hands, and he rests his hands on his knees, gripping them tightly as he closes his eyes, attention turned over to him. “…just get this over with.”
His mind wanders during what must be far less time than it feels like, Tom and Annie’s voices an anchor, something almost comfortable.
“…’s a bit shorter than when ya got’ere, bu’..” Tom starts to say, and Hal opens his eyes, finally, to see Annie looking at him thoughtfully with her head tilted, a smile growing on her fact that makes him fear until she speaks.
“…that’s actually a good look for him,” she comments, surprised, and he fights the bag to try to raise his hands and feel his head, Tom putting a hand over his to stop him. Hal ignores the halting, reaching up anyway to feel his hair.
It doesn’t feel as bad as he thinks he’s been afraid, and he wipes away the tickling loose hair where he feels it, fighting his way out of the trash bag and to his feet, without a word, Leo and his mirrors still sitting in the back of his mind. “…s’alrigh’, issinit?” Tom asks, and his expression is enough to make Hal smile at him.
“You’ve got the job,” Hal tells him, almost surprising himself, and leaning over carefully to kiss him while Annie grins somewhere behind him, and takes Eve out of the room.
They linger together, in the kitchen for a few moments longer before they part ways, Tom to relieve Annie of the baby so she could start dinner and Hal to his dominoes to reclaim control of his mind again from the reflections of a man holding up a handheld mirror. From what changed to lead into the moment that he was in now.
By the time they watch television, later, the two of them sitting close on the couch and Annie only marginally further away, he thinks he’s alright again.
[Damp]
Hal is listening to music when he hears a knock on the front door, and he almost ignores it, or calls for Annie, but she’s upstairs putting Eve to sleep and the last thing he wants is half an hour of listening to her cry again.
“Who’s there?” he asks, voice even as he turns off the music and heads to the door, cautious.
” ‘s me, Hal,” he hears, Tom’s tone almost plaintiff and he opens the door to find him standing there holding a pair of plastic bags, completely drenched. “I forgo’ the key,” Tom offers as way of apology and Hal takes a large step back, allowing him a wide berth for entry.
Tom enters, starting to make his way accross the living room, leaving a damp trail behind him until Hal speaks up, visibly bothered. “Stop. Right there. One moment!”
It takes a matter of seconds for Hal to climb the stairs, and Tom stands shivering in the middle of the living room, keeping a firm hold on his patience to keep from putting the groceries away as he can barely make out Hal speaking to Annie. In less than a minute though, Hal returns, loaded down with what must be half of the clean towels in the house, and a blanket on top of that, and he drops the pile onto the couch, pulling out what must have once been a beach towel and holding it out between his spread arms, keeping his gaze carefully on Tom’s face, and using the towel to block the rest of him when he spoke. “Strip.”
“Hal,” Tom complains, his eyes flicking from the window to the stairway, his voice somewhat effected by the shivering he was still doing, “I’ll get the drips, ‘m not goin’ta take off me clothes in the living room.”
“You’re freezing,” Hal tells him flatly, “and you’re not getting a cold around me. I’ve asked Annie to stay upstairs, and the door is locked and the window frosted, and I promise not to look. Do it.”
Tom sighs, long-sufferingly, but puts down the bag and takes off his coat, moving onto his shirt before he notices Hal still standing there holding the towel, eyes closed and head turned away. “Y’don’ hafta do tha’ y’know,” he tells him, rolling his eyes briefly while he continues to undress. “It’s no’ like ya’ve never seen me in the nuddy before.”
Hal doesn’t respond, and Tom shakes his head, putting the last of his clothes in the pile and moving forward to take the towel he was holding off of him, startling him and taking advantage of the opportunity to hug him with the towel between them.
“Ha,” he tells Hal, and there’s a moment of shock before Hal actually moves, laughing just softly and wrapping the towel, and his own arms around him, his small smile only partially forced.
“Dry off,” Hal tells him finally, tucking the towel in around the back and just barely kissing him before he can change his mind about the idea, Tom’s lips cold against his. “I’ll put the things away.”
Tom obeys, wrapping himself up in the blanket once he finishes, and follows Hal into the kitchen where he’s started to boil water, and kisses the back of his neck before going to curl up on the couch and wait for him.