seeing you makes me giddily in love
Notes: More and more and more Thomastair! Also, is that a little angst plot? Noooooooo
Cw mentions of sex, homophobia, and Elias Carstairs. I changed his character a little: he’s still an alcoholic and doesn’t care about Alastair, but Alastair didn’t have to take care of him or hide his condition or look after him. Cordelia also knows that her father is a drunk, but she doesn’t get harassed by Elias as Alastair does. Basically Elias puts down Alastair all the time, telling him he’s a failure and whatnot, because it helps him feel better about his own situation. Most importantly he’s still a fucking asshole and I can’t wait until he gets what he deserves.
Thomas was studying in his dorm when he got a text from Alastair:
Hi where r u
Great where is it i’m coming over
Thomas told him.
Did something happen?
I’ll tell you when i get there
Thomas stacked his books on his table and ran his hands through his hair, trying to fix it. Alastair had never been inside his personal space. It was a big step up in their relationship, and Thomas was a little nervous. He hardly even knew what he was nervous about; it wasn’t like he was slobby, and he had nothing to hide from Alastair. Still…
There was a knock on his door, and Thomas went to open it. Standing there was Alastair, looking handsome as usual but slightly pissed off. He moved past Thomas without a word and flopped down on his bed, covering his face with a pillow. “Okay,” he said after a while. “Ready to hear me complain my ass off?”
Thomas sat down at his desk, drawing his legs up on his chair and hugging them to himself. Suddenly he wasn’t nervous anymore; there was nothing to be nervous about, it was just Alastair! Sure, maybe two weeks ago he would have been having heart attacks at the idea of Alastair in his room, but he had grown a lot since then. He could actually stay in the same room as Alastair without freaking out every minute. “Go for it.”
Alastair had a lot to talk about. Besides the general issues of classes and annoying teachers, he also had plenty to say about his job. After spending a while talking about how he had to constantly put up with eccentric late night customers he turned the conversation to a phone call he had with his father a few hours before:
“...and then he fucking finally decided to call for once and it was so awkward and I don’t even remember what we talked about and I just wanted to hang up but if I did I know he’d probably come over here just to yell at me, which I just know he is practically dying to do. So eventually we finally finished and I went this sandwich store to get a sandwich expect they fucking messed up my order but it didn’t matter anyways because when I left a random stranger decided it was a good idea to run straight into me and I had to jump to the side and I lost my sandwich and I left my credit card at my dorm and I don’t have any money on me and I’m fucking starving…”
“So basically you’re mad at the world,” Thomas summed up. He waved his phone at Alastair, even though his face was still covered by the pillow. “I already ordered Chinese. Also, your dad sounds awful.”
“Thanks.” Alastair raised the pillow off his face. He looked tired. “He’s a fucking drunk bastard who made most of mine and Cordelia’s childhood crap.”
“I keep forgetting Cordelia’s your sister.” Thomas said. “You don’t look anything alike.”
“Really? How so?”
“For one, your hair.” Thomas didn’t let himself think before adding, “Also, you’re way hotter than her. But I don’t have the best eye for feminine beauty, so I don’t think my opinion counts.”
Alastair grinned, and Thomas was happy he had been able to get Alastair out of his grumpy mood, even if it was momentarily. “What about male beauty? How hot am I on a scale of 1 to 10.”
1000. “Oh, you know.” Thomas tried to act nonchalant. “An 8.”
“An 8! I was expecting at least a 9.7.”
Thomas laughed. “Wow, confident. But please, do continue ranting about your father.”
Alastair shrugged. “Not much to say. I hate him, but I have to tolerate. He pays for my residence and my biology major.”
“But once you’re out of school and rich and famous you’ll never talk to him again.”
“That’s the plan.”
Thomas went to sit on the edge of his bed. “What about your mother? What’s she like?”
Alastair started picking on the fringe on Thomas’ bed. “She’s nice and all, but she worships my father. Then again, she’s the only reason my father never hit any of us when he was drunk, so I guess I should be grateful. Even though she sorta ghosted me for a while after I came out. My father doesn’t approve of my homosexuality, and my mom just kinda went with him.”
Alastair put the pillow back on his face. “I fucking hate you, Thomas.”
Thomas laughed and stood up when his phone beeped. “I’ll be back, the food’s arrived.” “Mm-hmm,” murmured Alastair from the bed. Thomas closed the door gently behind him and left the room.
When he came back Alastair was quietly asleep, his arms wrapped around the pillow. He looked so peaceful that Thomas was about to let him sleep, but of course he had to bump his leg on his table and spill his textbooks onto the floor.
Alastair opened his eyes. “Good Lord, you’re clumsy,” he said, feigning surprise. “You’re right, I don’t know why I ever thought you would be a good dancer.”
“You didn’t,” Thomas said. “It was your first time talking to me, and you were being polite. Shove over.”
Alastair grinned and moved to make space for Thomas on the bed. “What did you get?”
Thomas grabbed some textbooks off the floor and put them on his bed as a makeshift table, and then started depositing containers onto them. “Sushi. Dumplings. This weird chicken thing that I have no idea how to pronounce. Rice.”
“A feast,” Alastair said. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks. “How do you use these?”
Thomas wrapped his hand around Alastair’s and helped him pick up some sushi. Together they popped it into Alastair’s mouth. “Mmmmm,” Alastair said, his mouth full. “Delicious.” He tried to pick up a piece of chicken on his own, but failed miserably. He put down one chopstick and used the other to stab a piece of chicken. “Improvisation,” he said proudly, and held it out to Thomas. Thomas laughed and allowed Alastair to feed him the chicken. It was tangy and sweet.
Now Alastair was trying to pick up rice with his chopsticks. He threw them down in frustration. “Why did you even order rice,” he whined.
“I didn’t,” Thomas said. “But the delivery man had the rice with him, and he didn’t seem to understand that I didn’t want it, so I just took it. Dumpling?” Together they ate the dumplings, Alastair stabbing his with one chopstick and Thomas using his normally.
Alastair said, “You should have let me talk to him.”
“You were ranting and resting. Besides, do you even speak Mandarin?”
“Not in the slightest,” Alastair said. “But I speak other languages.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Well I’m sure he only spoke Mandarin and English. How many languages do you speak?”
“Of fucking course.” Thomas flung a grain of rice at him. Alastair laughed.
“What about you? Do you know any other languages?”
“Say something in Spanish.”
“En realidad eres un nueve coma nueve.”
Alastair smiled. “What does that mean?”
“I said you’re a 9.9.” Thomas saw Alastair flush and he grinned. “Now your turn.”
Alastair hesitated, and then his voice dipped into a soft Persian accent. Thomas shivered. “What does that mean?” he asked softly.
Alastair grinned. “You have chicken sauce on your chin.”
Thomas’ hand flew up to his chin as Alastair started laughing. He wiped away the sauce and smiled. “Say something else.”
Alastair said something in a language that sounded like French. “Pourquoi pas dix? Why not a 10?”
Thomas laughed. “Sorry, 10 is reserved for God alone.”
“C’mon!” Alastair protested. “You worship me! I’m basically a god!”
Thomas smiled and rolled his eyes again. “You’re unbelievable.”
“That’s me,” Alastair agreed happily. He leaned his head against Thomas’ shoulder and nibbled on a sushi. “If I make you a 10, can I be a 10?”
“Shut up and eat your sushi.”
“It’s an innocent request!”
“Innocent to ask to be like God?”
“Fine. How about a 9.99?”
“If it’ll make you happy.”
Alastair smiled and gave Thomas the rest of his sushi. “What if we make God a zero?”
“And how exactly does that show that God is the best?” Thomas wondered.
Alastair shrugged. “Like, I don’t know, zero’s sorta infinite, which shows God is just so great he doesn’t even get a constant number. Anyways, why is God on this list at all? It’s a male-beauty scale!”
“Point. I just didn’t want to give you 10.”
“Love you too.”
Alastair sighed dramatically and lay back in the bed, balancing the box of chicken on his stomach. “There’s only one way to make it up to me.”
“And what’s that?”
“Feed me chicken and then take a nap with me.”
Thomas laughed. “Such hard work.” He lay down beside Alastair.
They stayed up for a while, telling silly stories and trying to catch chicken in their mouths and missing horribly. Eventually Alastair nodded off, and Thomas fell asleep too.
It felt like they slept for only a minute, but suddenly Alastair sat straight up in bed, spilling chicken and rice everywhere and rubbing his eyes frantically. “Hell,” he said. “What time is it?”
Thomas yawned and checked his phone. “8:44.”
“Fuck. I have class at nine.” Alastair glanced down at his shirt, which was covered in chicken sauce. “Double fuck.”
Thomas sat up in bed. “Okay, why do you have a class at nine at night?”
“It’s fucking hard trying to find classes to fit both your majors that run at sane hours in the day and work at fucking Pizza Pizza. I need to go.” Alastair got off the bed and started straightening his clothes.
Thomas walked to his closet and threw Alastair a shirt. “Wear that,” he said. “How far’s your class?”
“The other side of campus.”
“The other side! How the hell are you gonna make it on time?”
“I don’t know.” Alastair was frantically doing the buttons of Thomas’ shirt. “Why are your arms so long,” he complained. “Do you have a car?”
“Kit does. Come on, we’ve gotta run.”
Alastair grabbed his bag and together they ran out of Thomas’ building and to Christopher’s, which was a block away. They ran up a flight of stairs and Thomas knocked on Christopher’s door.
Christopher opened it, looking surprised. “What—”
“Alastair needs a car to take him to his class that starts in 10 minutes.”
“Fine.” Christopher led them to the student parking lot. Alastair told him an address, and in a few minutes they were at Alastair’s class.
Alastair opened his door and stepped out. “Thanks,” he said to Christopher. “Own you one. Thomas, see you around.” He ran into a building.
Christopher started driving back to his dorm. “You know Matthew’s gonna ask for a report.”
“A report? Of what?”
In the mirror Thomas saw Christopher roll his eyes. “Gee, I don’t know. You and Alastair come knocking at my door all out of breath at 9 o’clock at night. Your clothes are rumpled and you’ve got orange sauce on them, and Alastair’s wearing one of your shirts. Maybe something about that?”
Thomas groaned. “Must you be so perceptive? Look, he just came to my room and we talked and ate takeout and then fell asleep. Nothing happened.”
“Uh huh, tell that to Math. When he hears this he’s gonna be convinced you had sex with Alastair without telling him.”
“I don’t need to tell Math that I’m going to have sex!”
“So you did have sex.”
“Just checking. Either way, Matthew’s gonna be ecstatic.”
Matthew was ecstatic.
“So what were you doing?” It was the next day and Thomas and the rest of the Merry Thieves were hanging out at James’ apartment. Well, hanging out wasn’t really the word for it. More like Thomas was in the middle of an extensive interrogation by Relationship-Master Matthew.
Thomas stretched out on the only couch in the living room. The rest of the Thieves were sitting in various positions on the floor, except for Matthew, who had planted himself on top of the coffee table and was staring Thomas down intensely. “We slept together.”
“THOMAS.” Matthew’s voice became seven octaves higher.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Matthew, we slept. As in, we closed our eyes and took a nap.”
“Oh,” Matthew smiled sheepishly. “Still, this is good! It means your relationship’s blooming! It means Jamie can finally start putting his part in action!”
“Which I’m still not sure how to complete,” James piped up from where he was lying down on the floor rug.
“We’ll figure it out when the time comes.” Matthew paused, then looked back at Thomas. “Wait, you mean you slept with him and you still haven’t kissed him?”
“I’m leaving,” Thomas got off the couch and made for the door.
“Alright, alright!” Matthew said. He smiled pleasantly at Thomas. “I’m sorry! Come back!” He picked up a chip from the bowl on top of the table and threw it at Thomas. Thomas made a face at him but went back to the couch.
“Hey,” Christopher said. He was sitting with his back against one of the table’s legs and looking at his phone. “Grace just texted me that she’s home at Jesse’s. Wanna FaceTime her?”
“Yes!” Matthew said. He leaned over Christopher and looked at his screen. A moment later Grace came on, standing in what must have been Jesse’s kitchen. She had propped her phone up on the counter and was in the middle of preparing some food. A few strands of her white blond hair escaped it’s ponytail. She looked happy.
“Grace!” Matthew shouted much too loud. He leaned closer to the screen. “How are you? How’s Jesse?”
Grace smiled on Christopher’s screen. “Hey dear, hey Matthew. We’re good, thanks. How about you guys? What’s new with you? Tell me everything.” She leaned her elbows against the counter.
“We’re doing good,” Christopher said. “Everything’s pretty much the same since you left.”
Matthew scoffed. “You’re boyfriend's laying the facts low. So much has happened. First off, I got a new piercing, which means I officially have more than you. See?” He tilted his head to show off a piercing on his upper ear. “Beat that, bitch,” he smirked. Thomas grinned when he saw Christopher reach up and punch Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew yelped. “I mean, beat that, beautiful lady.”
Grace laughed. “Not quite.” She moved her hair to show them three piercings on her left ear and four on her right. “Totals to 7, and you’ve got 5. Beat that, bitch.” This was met with “OHHH” and “THAT’S RIGHT, PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE” from Thomas and James, who were listening to the conversation. Matthew flipped them off.
“Are Tom and Jamie there too?” Grace asked, overhearing Thomas and James’ shouts.
Christopher turned his phone to Thomas and James, who waved from where they were. “Grace,” James said. “You queen, you beautiful fucking princess. You have to do that more. When you get back we’re having a roast-Matthew party.”
“BETRAYAL.” Matthew mimed getting stabbed in the heart. “Grace, don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know a thing about parties.”
“Like you didn’t know those were weed gummies you put in our Christmas stockings,” Grace deadpanned. This started up another round of comments from James and Thomas, with Christopher joining in this time.
“Okay, that,” Matthew said, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t blame me for that. The store I bought them from called them ‘organic gummies.’ I thought it was some weird fruit-based shit, not fucking marijuana.”
“Sure,” Grace, Christopher, James and Thomas said at the same time.
“Anyways,” Matthew continued, “let’s not forget about the most important thing! Thomas has a boyfriend!” He practically yelled the last part.
“Omg no,” Grace said from Christopher’s phone. She looked at Thomas, who had started blushing. “You’ve got a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me? I’m hurt, Tom. Who is he? Do I know him?”
“Finally,” Matthew said from the table. “Someone who’s as invested in Tom’s relationship as me. Grace, it’s Alastair. Tom is simping so hard.”
“SHUT UP MATTHEW.” Thomas covered his face with an arm.
Grace laughed. On Christopher's phone they could hear someone distantly calling for her. “I’ve got to go, Jesse’s calling. He’s refurnishing the house, and he probably knocked down a lamp or something.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed in the way only siblings could get. “Talk to y’all later. Kit, come visit soon?” Christopher nodded and blew her a kiss, which made Grace smile. “And Matthew, text me about Thomas and Alastair. I want to hear everything. And don’t you dare start planning the wedding without me.” She disconnected the FaceTime in the midst of Matthew’s laughter and Thomas’ groans.
“Why did Christopher end up with the most pure girlfriend,” Matthew said between laughs.
“Hey,” James said. “Cordelia’s pure.”
Matthew looked at James. “Cordelia’s scary.”
“She is,” James argued, “but she’s scary-pure.”
“You’re all wrong,” Thomas said. “Alastair’s the purest one of them.”
“Didn’t Alastair trick you into admitting you once broke down in front of Eugenia and told her you were scared you’d never stop growing and that the basketball coach would keep coming up to you asking if you wanted to be on the team even though you were deathly afraid of him?” Christopher said.
“Okay fine, he’s pure with everyone expect me.”
“Which make’s Grace the purest,” Matthew concluded. “She wins.”
“You just want her to win because she’s into Thomas’ relationship,” James said.
“True,” Matthew said. “But that’s a pure enough reason, isn’t it?”
“Aww,” Christopher said. “You just called Thomas and Alastair pure. That’s cute.”
Matthew paused with his hand in the air. Finally, he smiled. “I guess I did. But they are pure.”
“The purest,” James agreed. He laughed at Thomas’ blushing.
“They haven’t even kissed yet—”
“My God Matthew.” Everyone started laughing as Thomas turned on the couch and buried his face into the sofa.
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