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His phone buzzes silently, sending vibrations through his skull, his teeth, and he groans under his breath, forcing his eyes open. It’s a side effect of the serum, he thinks, the fact that he can’t sleep through shit anymore. Not even his phone buzzing on do not disturb. He’d meant to put it on the table– he must’ve forgotten.
The buzzing stops. For a second, he thinks he’ll just be able to go to sleep. Then it buzzes again, and he grabs it with anger flooding his chest, not looking at the caller ID before he answers. “Yes?”
“Eli,” Kate says, voice light. “Third call. Normally you don’t make it past the first.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, dragging his hand down his face. “Kate, it’s…”
Actually, he didn’t check.
“Just after three thirty,” Kate supplies when he doesn’t continue. “What, did I wake you?”
“Obviously,” he hisses, and then from her end of the phone, distant and a bit hard to hear, Tommy’s voice.
“Geez, isn’t New York supposed to be the city that never sleeps?”
He grits his teeth together, sitting up. “Katherine, tell him to shut his damn mouth.”
“Eli says to shut it,” Kate repeats, voice bored. “I don’t care, though.”
“Kate.”
“Hey,” she says, not waiting for his burst of anger to settle in, “what do you know about speedster biology?”
“What?”
“Speedster biology,” she repeats, sounding annoyed. He rubs his temples, leaning back against the wall.
“Why not ask Tommy? It seems a little more. In his wheelhouse.”
“If I knew we wouldn’t be calling him, would we?” Tommy grumbles, barely audible. “Just ask him if he thinks I can heal from a punctured lung.”
Eli sits straight up, blind panic rushing through him. “From a what?”
Kate winces audibly on the other side of the phone, then replies tersely, “It’s probably not punctured. He just got hit in the ribs and now he’s having trouble breathing.”
“Nuh-uh,” Tommy mumbles, and his voice is too low for the call to pick up whatever he says next, but Kate bites out a “Shut up, Tommy”, so it’s probably idiotic. Most things he says are.
“Kate,” he says, “move away from him for a second.”
“Rude,” Tommy complains, but his voice gets quieter, and then Kate hums, prompting him to continue.
“Okay. Take him to the hospital.”
“I can’t take him to a hospital,” Kate says, annoyed. He squeezes his eyes shut.
“I get that he hates hospitals, but if he thinks he might’ve hurt himself bad enough to puncture a lung-”
“No,” Kate interrupts, “I mean I literally can’t take him to a hospital. He’s an escaped convict, Eli.”
He pauses, floundering at the reminder. “Oh.” Somehow, he always forgets that. Even though he’s part of the reason that fact is even true. “Why did you call me?”
Kate goes quiet, and he can just barely hear Tommy’s voice, before it gets louder, and Tommy repeats, “What’d he say?”
“Nothing,” Kate says. There’s the tell-tale distortion of Tommy using his speed, before his voice is close in Eli’s ear.
“What’d you tell her, huh?”
“Give my phone back,” Kate says tersely. Tommy ignores her, waiting for an answer.
“I just asked her why you called me.”
“Oh,” Tommy says.
He must hand the phone back to Kate– probably decided Eli’s question was a boring one –because then there’s Kate’s voice again, short and tense. “Look, he’s probably fine. I just don’t know how to check that.”
“What even happened?” he asked, and Kate coughs.
“Nothing.”
“Late night villain attack,” Tommy offers. “Didn’t think it was important enough to bother you. We took care of it.”
“And you also broke your ribs,” Kate reminds him sharply. Eli can’t tell if she’s madder at Tommy, him, or the situation. Likely all three.
“Just… keep an eye on him, I guess. See if it gets better.”
“I have been,” she snaps. “And it didn’t.”
Tommy says something he doesn’t catch, and he asks, “Where are you two?”
“Dunno,” Tommy mumbles, his breathing shaky as he speaks. “New York is such a stupid city. Everything looks the damn same.”
“It’s a grid, Tommy,” Kate says. “It’s not that hard to figure out.”
Eli had hated adjusting to New York, too, but he doesn’t say that. “Look, there’s nothing I can do over the phone.”
“No way, really?” Tommy snarks, before Kate hits him, or at least it sounds like she does.
“And?”
“Why not call Billy?” Eli asks. “He could use magic to fix whatever’s wrong.” If there even is anything wrong. But Kate isn’t the type to overreact, and if anything Tommy is likely downplaying whatever pain he’s feeling.
“Because,” Kate says, like that means something. Maybe it does. There are so many things Kate does that he doesn’t understand.
“Great. Will you call him now?”
“It’s late,” Tommy says, offended. Eli squeezes his eyes shut.
“You called me.”
“Actually,” Kate says, “I’m pretty sure it’s early.”
“It can’t count as early if you never slept,” Tommy argues, which is followed by the thump of her phone hitting either his head or his shoulder, Eli isn’t sure.
“Well, I only didn’t sleep because you—”
“Oh, because of me, huh?”
“If you’d just—”
“That was only because you—”
“Both of you,” Eli grinds out, “shut up.”
They listen, thankfully, and he takes the opportunity to stand, throwing boots on and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. Patriot jacket over an old tee, pajama pants and the mask he throws on for identity’s sake— yeah, no, he’s doing great. He loves functioning at three in the morning.
He keeps the phone pressed to his ear, which is why he hears it when Tommy mumbles, the call barely picking it up, “I don’t feel great.”
“You’re lightheaded,” Kate says, sounding calmer than before. “Sit down.”
“Kate,” he asks, and she hums in response. “Where are you two?”
“A few blocks past the Avengers Mansion. By that one pizza place.”
“Everything’s a goddamn pizza place in this fucking city,” Tommy complains, voice distant, so he must’ve listened to Kate’s instructions.
“Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“You don’t have to,” Kate says, annoyance in her voice.
“Why would you have called me if you didn’t want me to come?”
Kate goes quiet, and he can just barely hear Tommy ask, “Wait, what did he say?”
“Nothing,” Kate says. “See you in fifteen, Eli.”
She hangs up on him. Which, given the situation, seems entirely unfair.
It’s more like twenty five, when it comes down to it. He sees them sitting on the curb a ways out, and Kate notices him before Tommy does, her sunglasses perched in her hair, bow slung on the sidewalk next to her. Tommy is crumpled on her other side, head between his knees and hands on the edge of the curb.
“Hey,” he calls. Kate’s nose scrunches, lips pressed together.
“You didn’t need to come.”
He ignores her, because he doesn’t know what her deal is but knows that it sure as hell isn’t helpful right now. “Is he okay?”
“He can still hear you, y’know,” Tommy complains, not lifting his head.
Kate’s lips press even harder together, if that’s possible, and she says tightly, “He’s still got the wherewithal to be an asshole, so things can’t be that bad.”
“I’m always an asshole,” Tommy huffs, and Eli would believe him if the words weren’t a blatant lie. He’d seen the way Tommy kept civilians safe during fights, the way he ruffled Cassie’s hair whenever she was close enough to reach. The way he talked with Billy, like he was missing a part of himself. The way he looked at Kate when he thought no one was watching.
He doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything, just crouches down in front of Tommy and grabs hold of his chin, forcing his head up even as Tommy glares at him, recoiling from the touch. “You’re still breathing, at least.”
“Get off me,” Tommy complains, although he doesn’t do anything to push him away. “You wouldn’t have come if you thought I was dead, fuck off.”
“What happened?” he asks, and Kate makes a noise in the back of her throat.
“I told you. He got hit.”
Shame flickers across Tommy’s face, and he looks away, scowling. “I’m fine.”
Eli ignores him. It really isn’t the time for Tommy’s guilt complex, the way he takes every injury as some personal failing, and besides, Eli’s too tired to deal with it properly at the moment. “Are you still refusing to call Billy?”
“I don’t need to call Billy,” Tommy mutters. “I’m fine.”
“You called me.”
Tommy swallows. “Kate called you.”
“Shut it, Tommy,” Kate says quickly, grabbing his arm and jerking him to his feet. “Look, he’s probably not dying. Can we just… I dunno. Crash with you?”
“At three in the morning?” he asks incredulously, pushing himself up.
“Four,” Tommy corrects. They both ignore him.
“Fine. We’ll go to the lair.”
“We, or you and him?”
She fidgets, looking away. “Does it matter?”
He frowns, crossing his arms. “Why are you being so weird tonight?”
“I’m not!” she insists. “It doesn’t matter, that’s all.”
“Kate.”
“Eli.”
“Can both of you get it together until I stop feeling like every breath is full of hot knives?” Tommy interrupts loudly, and Eli looks away, clearing his throat.
“Yes. Right.”
“Eli,” Kate says, a forceful sort of even to her tone, “are you gonna join us at the lair?”
He looks between her and Tommy, then back again. His mouth opens, then closes again. “Yeah. Okay. You already woke me up, I might as well.”
Kate shoves Tommy in his direction, already looking away, lips drawn in a scowl. “Great. You carry him, then.”
“Don’t carry me,” Tommy threatens before he can even attempt anything.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
“For someone hurt, you’re certainly not acting like you want help.”
“I don’t,” Tommy says honestly, and Kate starts walking, not waiting for either of them.
“Keep moving, you two. I’m tired.”
Eli follows, Tommy’s arm slung over his shoulder to steady him. It’s Kate, of course he does. They both do.
Tommy stays silent on their way back, save the sharp inhale he makes whenever Eli’s arm brushes his ribs wrong. Kate does, too, more effectively— which is unfortunate, because Kate’s silences have the unique ability to make you feel like she’s laced the air with arsenic. It isn’t enjoyable. He almost prefers the unnatural oddity of Tommy actually keeping his mouth shut. Almost.
They get inside before anyone speaks, and in the end it’s Eli who does, as he helps Tommy onto the couch. “Take your uniform off. I need to see what’s wrong.”
Tommy gives him a look that’s less reminiscent of a deer in headlights and more similar to a stray dog getting kicked in the ribs. Which is almost ironic, as soon as he makes the comparison. “There’s nothing to see. I’m fine.”
He breathes out slowly, rubbing his palms against his pajama pants. “Kate?”
“Don’t look at me,” Kate says tersely, perched on the coffee table as if there isn’t a perfectly good chair directly next to her. “It’s not like there’s anything I can do about him being a stubborn dick.”
He turns his attention back to Tommy, frowning. “What did you do to make her so mad at you?”
“Why is it always me who’s done something?” Tommy demands. “How come she’s never in the wrong, huh? Why am I always getting blamed for you two’s damn reactions?”
He forces out another slow, controlled breath, before he asks, “Okay. Did you do something to make her mad at you, Speed?”
Tommy shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”
“You guess.”
“Yeah, I guess. I guess that she’s pissed ‘cause I took the hit that was meant for her and it isn’t healing right. She’s got one hell of a guilt complex, you know. Almost rivals yours. Almost.”
He isn’t going to rise to the bait. He isn’t going to get in a fight about this. He isn’t—
“I don’t have a guilt complex.”
Tommy snickers, thrilled with the reaction, before he cuts himself off with a wince, curling in on himself and rubbing his chest. “Ow.”
“Tommy,” Eli warns, and Tommy’s jaw works silently, still refusing to cooperate.
“I’m fine.”
“Take the uniform off, Speed.”
“You know, if you wanted to see me naked that bad you could’ve just-”
“Tommy.”
He looks down, face flushed, and mumbles, “I’ll show Kate, okay? If you just wait—”
Eli throws his hands up, pulling his mask off and dropping it on the table. “If you two didn’t actually want my help, you shouldn’t have woken me up at three in the damn morning. Just take your shirt off, Tommy, don’t turn this into some goddamn ordeal.”
Tommy shrinks in on himself, looking uncharacteristically ashamed in a way Eli doesn’t understand, before Kate interjects, voice tight.
“He doesn’t want to take his shirt off around you.”
Eli forces out a breath, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah? Why not?”
She adjusts her sunglasses in her hair, glancing at Tommy as if for permission before she says bluntly, “He’s trans.”
Eli blinks, faltering. “Oh.” How exactly is he supposed to react to that information? He clears his throat, looking away, and asks, “Like, um, you are?”
“Yeah,” Kate says, sounding bored. “Or no, but same principle.”
“…right.” He hesitates— outside of Kate, this isn’t exactly something he has much experience in, and she’d never really been all that interested in explaining anything. “Uh. You still… you still need to get looked at. I can… wait in the hall, or…?”
“No,” Tommy mumbles, looking even more uncomfortable than Eli feels, which is quite the feat because he’s about ready to lock himself in his room and never speak to anyone ever again thanks to this. “No, it’s fine, I don’t… ugh. Whatever. Just don’t— don’t make it weird.”
He doesn’t even know what exactly he’s meant to not be making weird, he doesn’t know what Tommy being trans even means. But Tommy’s already unzipping his suit, and peeling off his undershirt, and Eli quickly averts his eyes, feeling his own face flush.
“Um. Are you—”
“Don’t make it weird!” Tommy repeats, voice thin and pitched high with discomfort, arms crossed over his chest— not that Eli’s looking, he isn’t, thank you very much.
“I’m not,” he insists awkwardly, sounding weird even to himself. “I’m not, I was just going to— can I. Look?”
“No, you can’t, that’s why I stripped in front of you,” Tommy complains under his breath, before saying, “Stop making that face, you’re making it worse.”
“I’m not making a face,” Eli says, although he’s sure that he is. “I just… uh.”
“Wow. Maybe you should’ve left the room,” Kate says airily, abruptly reminding Eli of her presence. Tommy glares at her, cheeks dark with discomfort.
“You can be real unhelpful when you want to be, you know that?”
“I do, actually.” She sits beside Tommy on the couch, apparently deciding that their awkwardness has alleviated whatever reason she had for being pissed, and pulls his arms away, running her fingers over his skin, cataloguing the injury and every time Tommy’s breath catches with pain when something hurts. Eli tries not to stare at the way her fingertips dance across his skin, and he mostly succeeds, face burning as he turns his head away. “It doesn’t look like anything’s broken, I think.”
“Great,” Tommy says, voice strained. “Then it’ll heal on its own, you really don’t need to—”
“Tom,” Kate warns, and Tommy swallows, relenting. His hands flex against the couch cushions, before he meets Eli’s eyes suddenly.
“Are your grandparents gonna worry?”
He startles, coughing. “What?”
“When you aren’t there,” Tommy says. “Are they gonna worry?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “No,” he says. Tommy’s eyes narrow, and he corrects, “Not enough that I’ll get in trouble for it. They trust me.”
“Oh,” Tommy says. It doesn’t sound like it’s the answer he’s expecting, but Eli has no idea what is.
Kate straightens, flicking her bangs out of her face. She jerks her chin towards Tommy, and says, “You can go change.”
“Thank fuck,” Tommy huffs. He doesn’t use his speed as he gets to his feet, or as he stumbles unsteadily towards the hallway, so his injury must not be healing all that fast. Eli gets why Kate was worried— it’s weird. Unnatural. Or maybe it’s just that Tommy is typically better at hiding it, who’s to say?
“So?”
Kate shrugs, face impassive. “I think he might’ve bruised something internally. His lungs, maybe.”
“I think bruised lungs would be worse than this. Wouldn’t they?”
She shrugs again, fixing her sunglasses in her hair. “Maybe that’s thanks to his healing factor. I don’t know.”
“Okay,” he says. “Are… you okay?”
“Why would I not be?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I can’t figure out why you called me.”
Kate frowns, then stands, tilting her head. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She steps closer, and asks, “Why did you come?”
He looks away, changing the topic before she can wheedle her way into an answer. “I didn’t know Tommy was trans.”
Her brows raise, and she plants her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“I still didn’t know,” he says. She clicks her tongue.
“I’m trans.”
“Yes, Kate, I’m aware of that.”
She gives him an odd look, like she’s trying to pick apart the way his mind works— maybe she is. For the record, though, it’s not that he cares that Tommy is trans, because he doesn’t. He may not really… get it, sure, but Kate has been out to him for long enough that he understands enough. It’s just… he didn’t know that Tommy was trans. He likes knowing things. It makes him feel in control, and he—
He likes to feel in control. He can’t fail that way.
“Eli,” Kate says, voice sweet. Sugary, like honey. “Why did you come?”
He swallows. “You asked.”
Kate smiles, and he feels off-kilter, unbalanced. It’s a feeling she so often pulls from him. He hates it. “I asked.”
“Yeah. You asked.”
She blinks, slow, lashes splayed across her cheeks, and cooes, “What if Tommy asked?”
The question catches him off guard, and he coughs, leaning away from her, out of the gravitational pull that is Kate Bishop. “What?”
She raises an eyebrow, head cocked. Her sunglasses slip forward in her hair, in danger of falling. “What if Tommy asked, huh?”
“He wouldn’t, though,” Eli says. He doesn’t know what else she wants him to say.
“Humor me,” she says. “What if, Eli?”
He looks away, face hot under his gaze. “We’re a team. I’m the leader. I would come no matter who asked, Kate.”
She hums, lips pursed. “You know, I’m pretty sure it’s immoral to lie.”
He’s saved from replying to the jab by Tommy returning, still moving at a normal speed. “Wow, that’s a lot of tension. What, did someone die in the two minutes I was gone?”
Kate smiles at him, all teeth, and says, “That wasn’t two minutes.”
He wrinkles his nose, hands on the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t tell time.”
Eli squints at him. “What do you mean, you can’t tell time?”
“I mean it all feels the same to me,” he says, annoyed. “Two minutes, two hours, I dunno. It’s all boring.”
Eli wonders, briefly, if that’s a speedster thing, or just a Tommy thing, but he doesn’t ask. “I don’t think you should sleep yet.”
“It’s four in the morning,” Tommy protests. He flips himself over the back of the couch, sitting back in the spot he’d been in before, wincing at the movement but adding, “It’s not like I have a concussion.”
“Do you?” Kate asks. Tommy rolls his eyes.
“If I did it’s probably healed by now, right?”
“Reassuring,” Eli says dryly. To be fair, he has no idea if Tommy is wrong. The accelerated healing is… unpredictable, at best. It certainly isn't like what Teddy can do, anyway. “Look, you called me. I’m here. And I’m telling you, I don’t think you should sleep yet.”
“Fuck you,” Tommy complains. He sprawls out on the couch, glaring at Kate when she moves to sit.
“Move.”
“No.”
“I’ll sit on you.”
“And?”
She rolls her eyes and sits on his knees, raising her eyebrows at Eli like she’s daring him to argue. He doesn’t— he doesn’t know why she wants him to. At least, he assumes she wants him to.
She likes picking fights.
“So,” Tommy says, hands resting distractedly on Kate’s thigh. There’s the slight give of her skirt under his fingertips, and something hot curls in Eli’s stomach at the sight, maybe-jealousy but not quite. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Eli crosses his arms over his chest, shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Tommy’s head falls back, and he complains towards the ceiling, “You’re the one who says we have to stay up.”
“You have to stay up,” Kate corrects primly. “I can leave whenever I want.”
“Shut up,” Tommy says, voice fond. “You won’t.”
“Maybe I will,” she says. Her hand presses against the lean planes of his stomach, thumb toying with the hem of his shirt, tugging it up just enough to show a hint of pale skin. “What would you do about it, huh?”
Eli wonders, idly, if they even remember he’s there, or if they’re too caught up in their not-quite-flirting. He thinks he should feel jealous about it, but he’s tired, and his emotions are high from the rest of the night, and there’s something kind of…
No, there’s not. What is he saying? He’s just too tired to care, that’s all.
Besides, he and Kate are technically on a break at the moment. Does it even matter what she does with Tommy?
Yes, he thinks bitterly, but watching Kate tease Tommy, bangs falling against her cheeks, his mouth pulled in a grin, doesn’t quite feel bitter.
“Hey,” Tommy says, interrupting their not-flirting to turn his head towards Eli, “why won’t your grandparents be worried?”
He startles, the question catching him off-guard. “What?”
“You said they won’t worry,” Tommy huffs. “Why?”
Because they trust him. Because he’s a good person, and they know that.
At least, he hopes they do.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
Because no one in his family thinks he’ll do something bad, or dangerous. Because they’re so sure he’ll be a good grandson, a good son, that they practically ignore him. Because his parents didn’t even try and convince him not to move halfway across the country. Because his grandparents were so supportive of him being a hero they didn’t even try and make him stop.
Because he can’t do any wrong in their eyes.
Because sometimes it feels like they don’t even care.
“I don’t know,” he says stiffly, voice cold. “I told you. They trust me. What, has no one ever trusted you before?”
Tommy draws back immediately, walls going up before Eli can take it back, can say that it’s not Tommy he’s mad at. “Fuck you, too, Bradley. Get off, Kate, I’m leaving.”
“No,” she says.
“Excuse me?”
“Is your hearing injured, too?” she demands, scowling. “I said no. I’m too tired to play babysitter for both your emotions. Both of you, stop it. My tolerance for it passed like, three hours ago.”
Eli opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again, looking away. Tommy clears his throat, fidgeting restlessly before he finally says, “Geez, Eli, will you come sit already?”
He hesitates, considering sitting in one of the armchairs, before Kate jerks her chin towards the spot on the couch just above Tommy’s head, and he listens, because it’s Kate. Tommy readjusts as soon as he sits, leaning his head against Eli’s pajama pants, white hair sprawled out over the miniature Captain America shields as he blinks up at him, anger forgotten.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” Unlike Tommy, he can’t just turn his anger off so quickly, but it dies down a little when Kate takes his hand, dragging it to rest on the back of the couch and intertwining their hands there.
“We should play a game,” she says. Her sunglasses slide down her forehead again, and Eli grabs them, tossing them on the coffee table beside his mask.
“What game?”
“I’m not playing fucking Monopoly,” Tommy warns, face twisting. “I will actually kill you both, I’m not kidding.”
“We only tried that once,” Kate huffs, before shaking her head, composing herself. “No, we should play something fun.”
“Something fun,” Eli repeats. “What does that entail?”
Kate shrugs, the corner of her lips tugging up. “You know.”
“I quite literally don’t.”
Her tongue darts over the ridges of her teeth, and she says, “What about a party game?”
“Just say it already, Kate,” Tommy complains, and she rolls her eyes, digging the nail of her thumb into his hip in retaliation.
“Don’t rush me.”
“Stop making us wait!”
“Fine,” she grumbles, before grinning, and saying, “What about spin the bottle?”
Eli stares at her. “We don’t have a bottle.”
“That’s your issue here?” Tommy asks, tipping his head back to meet Eli’s eyes. He frowns.
“I’m just saying.”
“Spin the arrow, then,” Kate huffs. “Who cares what we use?”
He squints at her, then down at Tommy, who shrugs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “Don’t look at me. I can’t explain her, either.”
He looks back at Kate, raising an eyebrow. “Why would we do that?”
“For fun!” she repeats, insistent.
“Fun for who? You?”
“If you want to play something else, fine. How about seven minutes in heaven?”
“We cannot play seven minutes in heaven, Katherine, Tommy’s ribs are bruised.”
“It’s his lungs—”
“That’s worse.”
“—and what exactly are you planning on doing in the closet with him that’s gonna make that worse, huh?”
“What am I— I’m not planning on getting in the closet with Tommy!”
“What, so you want me to watch? What are you, an exhibitionist?”
“That’s not—”
“Oh my god!” Tommy interrupts, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not making out in the closet with either of you!”
Kate throws her hands up, lips pulled in a pout. “Everyone’s a hater today!”
“Today?” Eli protests. “I am not making out with Tommy in the closet, ever.”
“Ever? What are you, homophobic?” Tommy mumbles into his hands, and Eli shoves his shoulder, scowling.
“That’s not—”
“What, is it not ‘cause I’m a guy? Is it ‘cause I’m trans? Because I gotta say, man, that’s really—”
“It’s not because you’re trans! I make out with Kate, she’s trans—”
“Eli, he’s messing with you,” Kate interjects, and he glares at her.
“I know he’s messing with me! But I’m not— ugh!”
Tommy opens his mouth again, and Eli slaps his hand over it, scowling at him.
“No. No. Shut up. I need you both to just shut up for two minutes, got it?”
Tommy, being Tommy, responds by licking his palm.
Kate stops him before he can commit murder, grabbing his wrist and saying, “Eli, take a walk.”
“Kate,” he protests. She raises her eyebrows, and he scowls at her, but listens, standing.
“If I leave, are you going to die?”
“The biggest threat to my safety right now is you,” Tommy says sweetly, and Kate punches his chest without thinking, flinching back when Tommy yelps in pain, crossing his arms over himself.
“Sorry! Sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”
“Fine,” Tommy grits out, eyes squeezed shut. “M’fine. I, uh. Eli, I don’t suppose you could grab an, uh— ow —an ice pack on your way back?”
He hurries to the fridge, grabbing one and coming back. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate repeats, and Tommy shakes his head, wincing a little.
“No, I forgot too, s’fine. M’fine.”
“Here,” she says quickly, standing, “I’m gonna grab meds.”
“Oh,” Eli says. “I… forgot about that. That would’ve been smart earlier.”
“Ya think?” Tommy mumbles, curling in on himself. Kate hurries towards the kitchen, where the first aid kit is, and Eli stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight.
“Do you need me to…?”
“Just sit down already,” Tommy huffs into the couch. “I’m fine, calm down.”
He says that, but when Eli sits Tommy forces his head into his lap, shoving his nose against the waistband of Eli’s pajama pants.
“Hi?” Eli says, startled, and Tommy waves a hand, not moving.
“Comfy.”
“…is it?”
“Yes. My head hurts.”
“I told you you have a concussion.”
“I don’t have a concussion,” Tommy complains. “I have a headache.”
“From the concussion.”
“You weren’t even there! How would you know?”
“Because I know you.”
Tommy is quiet for a second, before he asks abruptly, “Why does Kate want us to kiss?”
Eli startles, staring down at him. “What?”
“Kate,” he repeats. “With her games. Why does she want us to kiss?”
His face feels weirdly hot, and he clears his throat, looking away. “I don’t know. She’s just being weird, I think.”
“Hm.” Tommy’s quiet again, briefly, before he asks, “Would you really not kiss me?”
“What?”
“I’m just asking,” Tommy says. “I’d kiss you.”
He chokes on the air, slamming his fist into his chest. “Tommy!”
“I don’t want to,” Tommy protests. “I’m just saying, I would.”
“You’d kiss me?”
“You wouldn’t?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again, face burning. “I’m straight, Tommy.”
Tommy’s eyebrows scrunch together, and he drums his fingers on his arm. “Geez, Eli, it’s just a kiss.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want to kiss me.”
“I don’t,” he insists. “I just don’t know why you’re being weird about it.”
“You’re the one who–”
“Here, Tommy,” Kate says, coming back into the room. Tommy sits up, taking the pills she hands him and ignoring the glass of water she offers. Her lips press together as he swallows, and she remarks, “I don’t get why you dry-swallow pills.”
Tommy shrugs, face twisted in a wince. “I dunno. Habit.”
Kate turns her attention to Eli, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you look like someone stabbed you?”
“I don’t,” he says.
“You do,” Kate tells him. Tommy squints at her, frowning.
“Kate, would you kiss a girl?”
“Sure,” she says. There’s a crease in her nose from her confusion, and Eli resists the urge to reach out and cup her face in his hands. “Why?”
Tommy huffs, turning his head stubbornly away from Eli. “See? It’s not weird.”
“Yes, it is,” Eli insists, crossing his arms. “Kate, that’s weird.”
“No, it’s not,” Kate says. “Who wouldn’t kiss a girl? You kiss girls.”
“But you’re straight!” Eli protests. “I’m straight, and I wouldn’t kiss a guy.”
“Me,” Tommy complains, for reasons utterly and completely unbeknownst to Eli. “He wouldn’t kiss me.”
Kate squints at him, uncomprehending. “You wouldn’t kiss a guy?”
“I’m straight!”
“That’s weird, Eli,” she says, and Tommy nods quickly.
“That’s what I told him!”
“I don’t like men, what don’t you get about that?” Eli asks, frustrated. Kate blows her bangs out of her eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s just a kiss.”
“Holy shit,” he says. “You two are fucking insane. You’re actually insane. I do not understand you people.”
Kate hums, then says, “Why not try it?”
“Excuse me?”
She shrugs, smirking. “Yeah. Try it. Kiss a guy, and if you still think it’s weird, then we’ll admit you’re right and drop it.”
Eli stares at her, face burning. “You just want me to kiss Tommy,” he accuses, and she flushes slightly, looking away in irritation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh my god,” Tommy hisses. “You’re both insane. Here, okay?”
And before he can do anything, Tommy grabs the front of his jacket and slams their lips together.
He jerks back, heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of his chest. “Dude!”
“There,” Tommy says, frowning, arms crossed. “See? It’s not even a big deal.”
He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Tommy just rolls his eyes, twisting to lay on the couch, his head on the arm and his feet pressed against Eli’s thigh.
“We should watch something. I’m bored.”
“You’re always bored,” Kate says, but she’s still looking at Eli, head tilted. Her eyes are wide, and she presses her palms flat against her thighs, fingers splayed wide across her skirt. “So?”
He glares at her, straightening and raising his chin pointedly. “That wasn’t a kiss. That was Tommy slamming his face into my nose. There’s a difference.”
“Fuck you,” Tommy says idely, but he seems to have moved on from the conversation entirely, head tilted back to stare up at the ceiling and drumming his fingers on the back of the couch. “Hey, do you think I could make it to the top of Mount Everest before the cold killed me?”
“Thin air,” Eli corrects. “At the top, the thin air would kill you first.”
“Oh. So, could I?”
“I don’t know. You’re not allowed to try.”
Tommy sits up in a blur, the look on his face pure offense. “What?! Why not?”
“Kate,” Eli groans, and she shrugs.
“He’d probably be fine,” she says, but she’s still staring at him, and it’s making something in his chest feel tight, and weird, and…
“Tommy,” he instructs, “come here.”
Tommy listens, leaning closer and blowing his bangs out of his eyes as he tilts his head. “Yeah?”
Eli meets Kate’s eyes, and her brows draw together in confusion, before he takes Tommy’s chin, moving slow enough that Tommy could pull away as he presses their lips together.
Tommy’s lips are chapped, which surprises him, somehow, but maybe it shouldn’t. It feels very Tommy.
The sudden lack of warmth from Tommy’s skin feels odd as he pulls away. Tommy is staring at him when he opens his eyes, wide-eyed, the green burning. Eli pulls back quickly, clearing his throat and turning his attention to Kate, who is still staring, too, expression unreadable.
“Oh,” she says. He stands quickly, knocking Tommy away— when had he gotten so close? —and smoothing down his jacket.
“There. Not a big deal, right?”
Tommy is still staring at him, pushing himself up on his elbows, mouth open but no sound coming out. If Eli didn’t know any better he would almost say he looks shocked, but he has no idea why he would be. Kate moves closer, catching his elbow.
“Eli,” she says. Her eyes are dark, her hair falling over her shoulders. She’s so beautiful.
He pulls away, suddenly embarrassed under her gaze. God, what’s he even doing? Kissing Tommy, his teammate— his male teammate at that, and it’s not like he has a problem with that, he’s fine with Tommy being like that, with Billy and Teddy, but he isn’t like… that. He’s straight.
So why in the world did he kiss Tommy? Why did he even care about Kate being weird?
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says quickly. “Got it?”
“I thought you said it wasn’t a big deal,” Kate says. He shakes his head.
“No, you said it wasn’t a big deal. I—”
I just kissed him, what kind of a defense is that?
“I should go,” he says instead. “It’s getting late. Early. I should go before my grandparents worry.”
It’s a lie, and they all know it. He told them it was a lie. Kate opens her mouth to argue, but Tommy beats her to it.
“Okay,” he says. His voice is hoarse, and he doesn’t meet Eli’s gaze. “…see you later, Eli.”
“Tommy,” Kate says, but he doesn’t look at either of them, and when she turns her attention back to Eli, he doesn’t look at her either.
“Bye, Kate,” he says. She’s quiet for a moment, before she nods.
“Right. Bye. Sleep well, Eli.”
He leaves without looking back, and doesn’t regret it.
He doesn’t.