For pseudoblu, in hopes that this will provide some momentary entertainment and cheerupage. ♥ I'm resurrecting this fic for real this time, guys! Honest!
Bill was nervous as Simone stepped out of the room to greet Jorg, and presumably to explain a few things before Tom could blurt them out. "It'll be fine," said Tom, patting Bill's hand in what he hoped was a reassuring way. He wanted to ask whether it would be all right to lay that hand on his own thigh again, but he couldn't figure how to make that request without sounding like a complete pervert.
"You think your dad will like me?" Bill questioned. "I'm usually such a people person, but this is so, well." He fluttered his other hand in a gesture that was adorable, but didn't actually communicate much.
"I think he'll think you're great," Tom replied firmly, and was delighted when Bill returned their linked hands to Tom's leg of his own accord. Tom was probably enjoying the contact a little too much. As long as Bill's hand didn't stray northward, however, the problem would remain a minor one that wasn't worth mentioning at the dinner table.
"I hope so." Bill flashed his Avon smile. Tom was sure anyone who saw that smile would fall head over heels for Bill, just as Tom himself had done. Well, hopefully Simone hadn't, but she was female, after all, and didn't seem to fall into Bill's target demographic, as it were.
The two of them went back to their platefuls of food, eager as only two teenage boys could be over their dinners. Tom was still a touch morose over the knowledge that Bill would soon be abandoning him, but his stomach insisted that he had better eat his fill, and his hand and groin insisted that he was happy enough to obey his digestive system's demands.
More often than not, Tom was virtually dead to the world around him while he was eating. But he was drawn out of his food-induced haze when he felt Bill's thumb stroking his hand lightly. Tom looked up and grinned crookedly when he saw Bill gazing at him, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his perfect, full lips. "Are you seriously watching me eat?" Tom asked.
"Should I stop?" Bill returned, tipping his head down and peeking at Tom through his lashes.
"Well, Mom says I look like a pig when I eat," Tom pointed out, then noted that Bill's plate was empty. Bill was toying with his fork even as he toyed with Tom's hand, and while Tom didn't want to prevent the latter, the former wasn't allowable if Bill was still hungry.
"Possibly a little," Bill allowed, and Tom laughed, surprised by the teasing. Bill blushed and grinned back at him.
"No, really though, did you want more to eat?" Tom was already reaching for the serving tray full of sliced meat.
"No, no, I would hate to impose," Bill started to object, until Tom loaded his plate with a generous second helping of beef. The look on Bill's face was familiar, as Tom had made it often when presented with large portions of edibles that he was most definitely in the mood to devour. "If you insist," said Bill demurely, and set to work cutting the slices of meat. Tom felt mildly guilty for commandeering Bill's hand, thus preventing Bill from using his fork and knife at the same time. But he didn't feel quite remorseful enough to release the hand in his possession, nor did Bill seem inclined to reclaim it.
Only then did Tom stop to contemplate Jorg's reaction when Simone conveyed the news to him. Tom had never actually discussed homosexuality with his father; his mother had touched on the subject briefly while giving Tom a talk - The Talk, rather - about puberty and safe sex, stating that condoms were essential whether Tom chose to take an interest in males, females, or both. He wasn't sure if Simone had said anything else, because Tom had been preoccupied fantasizing about Angelina Jolie's cleavage.
Jorg had relayed a sex talk of his own that had been far briefer: "Just don't get anybody pregnant," he'd said gruffly, and clapped Tom on the shoulder.
So Tom had no idea what Jorg would think of Tom's newfound gayness- was that even a word? On the plus side, though, Tom was one hundred percent sure that he wouldn't be able to get Bill pregnant even if he tried. Clearly he'd taken Jorg's advice to heart.
Then again, Tom remembered with a start, he did know what Jorg thought about men wearing makeup. "Oh shit." Tom's eyes widened, and Bill peered at him, looking concerned. When Jorg had seen the lead singer of Green Day on television, he'd grumbled "Pansy-ass pop stars," and changed the channel. Come to think of it, that had probably counted as commentary on homosexuality also, and oh shit was right. Tom had been able to hear his parents' murmurs to each other before, and now they were definitely raising their voices, not to full-out argument levels, but approaching them.
"Um, I think-" Tom started to say.
Simone reentered the kitchen at that point, and Tom and Bill looked quickly over their shoulders. Tom's heart sank when he saw that Simone's expression was grim. "Tom, hon. You and Bill might want to head out for a while."