The problem with going to France to party with Tommy is the same problem that David realized a while ago with that perfect 20/20 hindsight. Okay, maybe that and the way some of his old school friends just gave him a look after he followed Tommy down the hill from that hillside. But David wasn't the sort to push things, especially after how he'd been hurt before. And friendship with Tommy was just so fucking good.
If there was a way to be addicted to friendship, David had definitely found it. Found it in the way that Tommy makes him laugh, in the way the guy has pushed and pulled him out of his shell. Hell, when Tommy'd found out that David had lost his job over leaving to help Tommy the guy had even helped him search online for new work. Which had been well and good until his parents had found out about him losing his job, and his apartment, and his father got into twisting his arm about finally going to college and...
Well, the truth of the matter was that he needed a day off of being an overachiever as much as he wanted time with Tommy, so here he was. Smiling through Tommy's horrible French accent, casually and hopefully charmingly cutting off attempts to flirt with him by strangers, and mostly just watching. Tommy is just alive, electric, vital in a way that is so damn captivating that it gets David every last time.
There's just something about the speedster that is magnetic. And given David knows how he is about people, he knows just what it is.
So he sips his drinks (no way he wanted to get drunk), lets himself be pulled into friend dancing with Tommy, and then retreating from the dance floor when Tommy's occupied. Or at least finding a corner to enjoy the music and dancing alone. Because fuck, that flair of jealousy in his gut any time Tommy gets close to a girl (or a guy) is absolutely unbecoming of him. Which is not what he wants to do. He can't be that asshole. Not again.
But it's nice. The way the 'night' is going. The moments he gets where he's the only thing Tommy is paying attention to. It's almost like something, and maybe there's a buzz in his head going on, the edges of fuzzy warmth in his gut, but he likes to think he has it under control.
He does not have it under control. That much is obvious when his hands grip at Tommy's hips to pull him closer, to pull him just a bit further away from the french rando guy. Can't help the hint of sharpness to his eyes or the curl of his lips as he raises his voice to be heard over the music by the rando.
The first time David's spoken French in front of Tommy all night, because he'd been happy to keep to English. It's flawless, the accent sounds flawless enough for him to be mistaken for a Parisian as well, and his words are sweetly sharp too. Possessive without being possessive.
"So sorry, I know how much space is at a premium some nights. Forgive us for crowding you."
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If there was a way to be addicted to friendship, David had definitely found it. Found it in the way that Tommy makes him laugh, in the way the guy has pushed and pulled him out of his shell. Hell, when Tommy'd found out that David had lost his job over leaving to help Tommy the guy had even helped him search online for new work. Which had been well and good until his parents had found out about him losing his job, and his apartment, and his father got into twisting his arm about finally going to college and...
Well, the truth of the matter was that he needed a day off of being an overachiever as much as he wanted time with Tommy, so here he was. Smiling through Tommy's horrible French accent, casually and hopefully charmingly cutting off attempts to flirt with him by strangers, and mostly just watching. Tommy is just alive, electric, vital in a way that is so damn captivating that it gets David every last time.
There's just something about the speedster that is magnetic. And given David knows how he is about people, he knows just what it is.
So he sips his drinks (no way he wanted to get drunk), lets himself be pulled into friend dancing with Tommy, and then retreating from the dance floor when Tommy's occupied. Or at least finding a corner to enjoy the music and dancing alone. Because fuck, that flair of jealousy in his gut any time Tommy gets close to a girl (or a guy) is absolutely unbecoming of him. Which is not what he wants to do. He can't be that asshole. Not again.
But it's nice. The way the 'night' is going. The moments he gets where he's the only thing Tommy is paying attention to. It's almost like something, and maybe there's a buzz in his head going on, the edges of fuzzy warmth in his gut, but he likes to think he has it under control.
He does not have it under control. That much is obvious when his hands grip at Tommy's hips to pull him closer, to pull him just a bit further away from the french rando guy. Can't help the hint of sharpness to his eyes or the curl of his lips as he raises his voice to be heard over the music by the rando.
The first time David's spoken French in front of Tommy all night, because he'd been happy to keep to English. It's flawless, the accent sounds flawless enough for him to be mistaken for a Parisian as well, and his words are sweetly sharp too. Possessive without being possessive.
"So sorry, I know how much space is at a premium some nights. Forgive us for crowding you."