“I mean, what the hell is a legume, anyway?” Eddie asks as he and Tommy, damp from the weird drizzle the city’s been treated to over the last three days, wind through the bar patrons to grab the only available high-top. The Lakers have long since been out of the playoffs, but the sports bar is still a sea of garish yellow and purple. Gross.
“I mean I know what they are. But who marches into their job and tells their boss, ‘hey, cook me some legumes’?”
“I take it that’s not the exact language he used.”
“Of course not; Buck would never talk to Bobby that way. But you know how he is: one day he’s talking about the altitudes of passenger jets over the Grand Canyon, the next he’s sharing 'ideal fiber-to-calorie ratios' and checking what Whole Foods charges for chia seeds.” Eddie combs his fingers through his damp hair and signals their waitress. “I don’t get the sudden interest.”
Tommy picks up a sticky single-page menu of bar foods. “Think there’s any fiber in onion rings?”
Eddie’s shocked laugh makes Tommy smile. “I’ve had their nachos before; they’re not bad. Plus they have beans, which is probably good. God, I’m never going to be able to stop thinking about this. Buck is…surprisingly responsible with what he eats? But that’s the thing: he knows all this stuff already. He knows how to portion and get a good balance of nutrients from some things so he can also stuff his face with pasta and garlic bread later. Why fiber?”
“I don’t know, Eddie,” Tommy chuckles, indulging him. He takes a sip of his beer and stares down at it, wondering about its fiber content. Damn, now he’s infected, too. Whatever, he knows the drill; it’s been a while since he and Scott broke up, but it’ll be easy to get back to…oh.
f*ck.
(f*ck indeed.)
(Soon, anyway.)
Yeah, Tommy suddenly has a really good idea why his research-oriented boyfriend, dating a man for the first time, might be trying to get more fiber in his diet.
He watches Eddie ramble on while sipping his own beer. Apparently Evan started quizzing Bobby about the nutritional content of breakfast. Bobby looked somewhere between amused and insulted, while Howie made a neck-slicing motion at Evan from behind Bobby’s back.
The thing is, Tommy's not too uncomfortable to explain it, but he thinks Eddie would be to hear it. So even though they're sitting across from each other at the table, he texts him a link. What Tommy didn't take into consideration was the possibility that Eddie would read the thing and do a literal spit-take, spraying his beer - thankfully in a pretty fine mist - straight in Tommy's face.
Tommy, managing to keep his face perfectly neutral, grabs a napkin to dab at his cheek. “So...questions?"
It takes a minute for Eddie’s brain to come back online, then another three of profuse apologies and offers to pay for Tommy’s dry cleaning. (“Eddie, this is a cotton t-shirt.”)
"So you and Buck. You're. Um." Eddie makes a hand gesture that...honestly could mean literally anything.
"Not so much at the moment, nope.” Tommy grabs another napkin to dab at his earlobe. “I kind of feel like my surprise party just got canceled." Eddie starts to choke on another sip of beer. Tommy hops off his stool just in case. Once Eddie swallows, Tommy sits back down and removes Eddie's glass from his possession. He looks about to object, but glances down to his phone again, back up at Tommy, and over to his glass.
"Yeah. Uh. Good call."
"So no, Evan and I are not having that kind of sex yet."
"So I..."
"Spilled the beans? Yup. I'll try to work on my 'shocked' face, for when the topic comes up. By the way, beans? Definitely a good source of fiber." He winks.
"You also. Umm. Watch your fiber intake?"
God, this man is adorable. Tommy is so, so tempted to sass him, but lately he's been getting the sense that Eddie might be doing fiber research himself someday, and he still feels bad about how he almost snarked Evan right out of the closet, so maybe he can do a good deed here and play along.
"I do." Tommy arches an eyebrow.
"And that. Umm. Fiber. Is...can two guys both be eating a lot of fiber? Does that...does that make them incompatible?"
Under the table, Tommy digs his thumbnail deep into the little sliver of flesh he can find where his shirt has ridden up. He keeps going until he's about to scream, focusing on the little stab of pain to keep from laughing. It doesn't work, unfortunately, and Tommy busts out into what he knows are the gayest giggles a man could produce. Eddie looks over Tommy's shoulder, probably searching for the exits.
"It...Eddie, no." Tommy wipes away the tears running down his face; this is a much wetter evening than he was expecting. "I'm sorry. I promise it's fine. But let's drop the fiber thing, okay?"
Eddie still looks deeply chagrined. He reaches across their high-top and chugs the rest of his beer, then polishes off Tommy's as well. His display is punctuated by a burp the people at the pool table definitely heard, and an, "okay."
"Yeah, so the number one thing most straight guys want to know," he pauses to signal the waitress and asks for two more beers and some waters, "is about who tops and who bottoms."
Eddie shoots his gaze to the waitress's retreating back like he's worried she overheard. "Sorry, man, I know this is really inappropriate. You don't owe me anything about your sex life. Neither of you. Though it's gonna be an adjustment - I'm used to Buck oversharing, but not about anything I can't. You know. Picture. From experience."
Tommy tries to keep the arch of his eyebrow to a minimum. Picturing, indeed.
"It's not like you have to be one or the other, no. Some guys are. In my experience, most are at least a little...flexible, every now and then. I have no idea what Evan's thing is - I'd bet Evan doesn't know what Evan's thing is...unless you do?" Now the eyebrow arches all the way up at Eddie's expression, him looking like he's remembering something. "Edmundo, do you have something to share with the class?"
Eddie's saved by their waitress, returning with their drinks as well as the plate of nachos and a pile of napkins she pointedly places in front of Tommy. "You're not going to spew this one all over me, are you?" Tommy asks Eddie, holding both drinks against his chest. "Because you really should ask permission before you...eject...all over someone's face."
Now it's Eddie's turn to bust out laughing. It’s a relief: Tommy feels like he's finally snapped Eddie out of this tentative, innocent questioning thing, and they're just two bros again, even if the gay one just made a joke to the straight one about coming on someone's face.
"Give me my beer, asshole. And no, I don't know whether Buck would want to top or bottom. If I had to guess, knowing Buck, I'd say both: he likes sex, he is, by all accounts, good at sex, and he's open to trying new things. He wasn't freaked out by liking guys, just by the idea of me finding out before he had the chance to get used to the idea and tell me himself. So yeah, man, you should probably stock up on condoms." Eddie chugs half of his beer in one impressive gulp.
He shoves a chip stacked with cheese, a slice of jalapeño, and plenty of beans into his mouth, and declares he's going for shots. Tommy sits and ponders.
Naive Eddie was fun to tease, but this Eddie feels like the real thing, maybe even more so than when they hung out originally, back before Tommy kissed Evan and the dynamics shifted. He also can't remember ever having a straight friend he felt comfortable enough with to not censor himself, worried they'd be uncomfortable - threatened, even - by a gay man talking about his sexuality. God, if he had ever said this stuff to Sal - if Sal ever had the tiniest clue he was sharing his bunk room with a fa*g - not only would their friendship have been over, Tommy would absolutely have been booted by Gerrard with some bullsh*t excuse to justify it.
So f*ck it, he's going to be himself, same as he would be with any of his gay friends. He'll draw the line at smacking Eddie's ass, though. Maybe.
Eddie comes back not with a shot for each of them, but a tray.
Ass smacking is now a near-inevitability.
"So yeah," Tommy starts, choking back a shot of cheap whiskey, "it's called vers. As in 'versatile'. Where you do both. I tend toward topping, but.” The whiskey hits Tommy’s bloodstream, a little tingle buzzing in his veins. “Eddie, man. I know you're straight, but having something up your ass? Feels amazing."
Eddie chuckles, but it's not a nervous sound. Still, he downs his own shot and takes a slow sip of beer before making eye contact.
"I'll have to take your word for it - I don't go for...sausage."
Okay, this is gold. "You can buy fake sausage. You know that, right. The meat department might be geared toward women, but even guys who don't like the real thing can still enjoy the imitation stuff." They both grimace at the same time. "This one isn't working, is it?"
"It is not," Eddie agrees, scrunching up his face. "Wanna go back to fiber?"
Tommy eyes the tray of shots.
"Eggplant? Cucumber? Pick a vegetable; whatever helps."
Another shot down the hatch for both of them. They each watch the basketball game on separate TVs - there are a truly excessive number of screens in this tiny place - but then, as the 3rd quarter comes to an end, Tommy is blindsided during a Geico commercial.
"You asked if I had something to share with the class? You were right. Buck's…Buck’s gotten pegged. Couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when he told me how much he liked it. One of his exes was into all kinds of kinky stuff - nothing extreme, but, you know. Handcuffs, blindfolds, that stupid f*cking co*ck ring Buck had to cut before his dick fell off. Check the thing on the kitchen counter where the whisk and spatulas are - the ring cutter was still in there, last I checked." Eddie smiles wickedly and downs another shot. "He still owes me for saving his eggplant."
Tommy shifts. Eddie looks down at the edge of the table in front of Tommy and slowly raises a knowing eyebrow. "Eggplant trouble?"
Oh yeah. It's on now.
Tommy downs his last shot. "Thinking about Evan's eggplant. So. Yeah. We've fooled around. Over clothes. I know how big it is."
"Firehose."
“Firehose?”
“Buck's old nickname. He used it on his dating app profile. I'm surprised Chim didn't tell you."
The euphemisms continue to stack up. "So. Firefighter with a big dick. Got it."
"Oh, that's not all." Eddie leans in. "He...yeah, f*ck it, Buck won't care if I tell you. Shhhit,” Eddie slurs slightly, like he doesn’t care enough to make the sound come out of his mouth the right way, “he's pretty proud of it, even if most of the girls he's been with weren't into it. Thing is, he goes off like a firehose too. Know what I mean? So yeah, if you're not into things...ejecting...on your face without talking about it first..."
"I should bring a snorkel?"
Eddie laughs so hard, his stool tips back dangerously far.
He rests his chin on his palm. "Buck is a great guy. If he wants an eggplant up his ass, he deserves to get one. Like he really, really does. Deserve it, I mean, not want it. But he might - he's really horny a lot of the time. He's the best." Eddie has a faraway look in his eye. Yup, wasted. Tommy makes a mental note (that he'll probably forget, because he's definitely sliding past 'tipsy' himself) to ask Evan about how much Eddie usually drinks. "I want to be supportive. I want to know about the fiber stuff. I mean, not about the actual fiber…stuff, but I want him to be able to tell me all of this, if he wants. Same as with women."
Eddie doesn't realize he's nodded off sitting up, and Tommy doesn't have the heart to wake him. Plus he's pretty to look at. And Tommy is drowsing himself, just enough that, when someone barks out his name what feels like 3 inches from his ear, he just about has a heart attack. The noise has Eddie's chin slipping off his hand and he tumbles toward the ground, only to be caught by...
"Evan!" Tommy can feel himself smiling like a dope, but doesn't care in the slightest - his gorgeous boyfriend is here, grinning big and happy right back at him, looking even bigger than Tommy remembered. He's got Eddie under the arms, easily lifting him back up onto his stool with an amused, “Upsy daisy!”. Now Tommy can enjoy looking at them both.
"Hey babe, I...whew, you guys stink."
"Mm, lots of sweat. Nachos. Also your life partner over there spewed beer all over me when he found out why you were eating a bunch of fiber. I thought I broke him."
Bright red cheeks are a good look on his man, Tommy decides. That's how Evan looks when he’s straddling Tommy on the armchair, grinding that big bulge down into Tommy’s lap through their shorts while they sweat and grunt and graze teeth along each other’s jawlines.
"I. You. He. Eddie!"
Eddie, thank god, is chugging water. "Mmph," he starts, some of it dripping down his chin, fortunately only getting it on himself this time, "didn't know. Sorry. Don't. Umm. Not my kind of sex. Maybe..." They both wait for Eddie to continue.
"Maybe what?" Evan asks cautiously, looking back and forth between them like Tommy knows what Eddie's trying to say.
(Tommy absolutely knows what Eddie's trying to say, but he doesn't think he should supply that info when he doesn't think the man himself has had time to fully process that yet. He really is trying to be less of an asshole.)
"Maybe he should use the restroom before we leave!" Tommy blurts out, rising quickly and grabbing Eddie’s hand. "Evan, why don't I take him while you get our check."
"You don't think it would be better if..."
"Nope!" Tommy calls cheerfully over his shoulder, pushing Eddie along while he tries to navigate them between tables. "Listen, Eddie, there's a good chance you might not remember this in the morning, but I don't think this is the way you want to tell your best friend you might be into guys." Damn, saying it out loud makes Tommy's stomach hurt. Or maybe that's just because he's about to puke up three pints and three shots, all consumed way too quickly. If that's his tally, how many did Eddie put away?
"Mm. K."
They make it into the bathroom. Tommy stops to splash some cold water on both their faces, which seems to have a considerable effect on Eddie, thank god.
"Wow, okay. Yeah. Right, Buck is here. Peeing, then leaving. You okay, man?"
Tommy chuckles. "Yeah, man. Not as good as you, but. It was fun. I liked getting to talk with you like that."
They take their places at the urinals, one left empty between them because that's what you do. And because, if Tommy saw Eddie's dick, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the night.
Is it weird that he’s kind of craving eggplant parm?
"I did too," Eddie says over the sound of them peeing. "Thanks for. For talking to me. About that stuff. I hope I didn't make things too awkward; I just…really want to support Buck."
"Right," Tommy says noncommittally. "I hope I helped you understand some things." He and Eddie make eye contact in the mirror above the sinks. Then Evan is yelling for them, and the moment is broken.
Naturally they’re out of paper towels. Resigned, Tommy wipes his wet hands on his jeans. Because why not, at this point. It’s been a messy night, but he’s not complaining.
