#however since bucktommys like tommy and might wanna read about his baby gay adventures ->

[gaytommykinard]

caught in the way you got me [ao3]

relationships: Tommy Kinard/Original Male Character/Original Female Character (M/M/F)

rating: E

words: 2465

Thinking back, he realises he had never actually been attracted to women; not even the gorgeous women who would approach him in bars, who buttered him up and made him laugh when he’d be feeling lonely and horny enough to go home with them, a mutual understanding that they were both only in it for a one night stand. And it wasn’t bad, it was never bad, but he never felt that thrill like he did with men - something he didn’t even realise was missing until well into adulthood.

Six months into living in LA he still feels like a foreigner, and he thinks the locals can tell; one of the most common questions he gets asked is where are you from? and he’s always hated it, always scrambling for an answer. It’s no surprise that’s what Amalia asks, too, shortly after introducing herself and asking Tommy for his name, buying him a drink and inviting him to a game of pool − and Tommy’s supposed to be watching the game on one of the screens in the corner of the bar, but it’s been boring without the friend who bailed on him last minute, and he accepts her invitation without thinking twice about it.

“Where am I from?” Tommy’s eyebrows knit together, a slight tilt to his head. “Uh, planet Earth, and yourself?”

Amalia laughs, throwing her head back. It was a deflection more than a joke, and not a very funny one at that, but she seems to find it hilarious. He can’t lie − it strokes his ego just a little bit.

“I can’t place you from your accent,” she says. “I’m usually pretty good at it, actually, but you’re kind of a mystery.”

Her eyes travel all the way down his body and back up, locking onto his gaze, and Tommy feels a blush coming on. He looks down at the pool table, and it takes him a moment to remember it’s his turn to play. It takes him much longer to figure out she’s letting him win, or maybe she’s playing terribly because she’s more focused on flirting with Tommy and laughing at the lame jokes he keeps making without even trying to be funny, and when she comes around the table and touches his arm for the third time, Tommy tries to shuffle away discreetly, trying to think of a way to let her down gently.

She must sense his discomfort. He’s always been bad at hiding it. But she smiles at him and in a much gentler tone says, “Hey,” and when Tommy turns to meet her eye she adds, “I’m here with my boyfriend, actually,” and points towards the bar.

Tommy spots him right away. David is looking at them, and when he sees them, he lifts his drink in greeting and winks at Amalia − or at Tommy − or both of them − seemingly unbothered that his girlfriend’s been practically throwing herself at another man.

Tommy’s at a loss for words − talk about fucking awkward. She’s definitely been hitting on him, and Tommy’s definitely not interested in getting involved in whatever weird open relationship thing the pair have got going on any more than he’s interested in pursuing any kind of relationship with a woman.

“That’s nice,” Tommy says, because what else is he supposed to say? “I, uh…”

And then she asks, “You wanna meet him? He’s really nice. C’mon,” and she loops her arm around Tommy’s and leads him to the bar before Tommy can even protest.

David greets him with a gorgeous smile, deep blue eyes fixed on Tommy’s, and says, “Hey, handsome,” in a rich, velvety voice.

Tommy’s brain short-circuits for a moment. He watches as Amalia slides up to him and he puts an arm around her shoulders, and they’re both looking at him kind of expectantly and he catches on only with seconds to spare before she asks, “You wanna come home with us?”

And it’s really hard to say no to that, because she might not be doing anything for him, physically at least, but he definitely, definitely is. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt that shows off his arms, and his shoulder-length brown hair is tied back into a half-ponytail, a few days’ old scruff on his jawline. And he’s standing in front of Tommy, looking at him like he wants to devour him whole − and it’s really, really hard to say no to that.

[continue reading on ao3]