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“Have you ever seen kangaroo genitals?” is not a question that Tommy ever expected to be asked in his life. And likely, he never would have been, were it not for one Howard Han first saving said life in a fire 20 years ago, and then introducing him to who Tommy has come to realize might just be the fucking love of his life.
Evan Buckley arrived in Tommy’s life on the wings of a Category 5 hurricane. Everything else follows from that.
At least that’s how Tommy rationalizes the frankly insane decisions he’s found himself making in Evan’s presence and under the influence of his gorgeous blue eyes and smart smiling mouth.
After the shitstorm that was the end of his last long relationship, Tommy was careful with his heart in a way that he never felt the need to be in any other aspect of his life. And yet with Evan, he found himself agreeing to meet his family after a single failed date, and asking the 90’s engine driver to drop him off at the hospital to try to make it, and deciding to risk exploding his kitchen by experimenting with new recipes because Evan was coming over for dinner, and last time Tommy was over at Eddie’s, Chris mentioned how much Evan liked caramel sauce and then showed him a TikTok where a credible abuela insisted you can make the perfect dulce de leche every time out of condensed milk if you boil it in an unopened can.
The result was delicious, and Tommy’s kitchen remains unexploded. But still, there was a moment when he stood in front of the boiling pot with a giant lid for a shield, watching the water level around the potential explosive like his first AirOps captain watched green pilots around the new Agusta 139, when he had to wonder at himself, at what the actual fuck he thought he was doing, and was he actually fine with having clearly lost his fucking mind over Evan Buckley?
So now while Tommy is not unsurprised by kangaroo genitals coming up during after-dinner conversation as he puts away their dishes and Evan scrolls down his phone, he knows exactly how he got here and can’t quite suppress the thrill that runs through him as he closes the dishwasher, leans against it and gets ready for whatever comes next.
“Can’t say I have,” he says and watches the way Evan’s eyes brighten in response.
Evan Buckley is...adorable. He's also fucking hot. And smart. And kind. And fearless in showing his affection and trying new things in ways that has Tommy wanting to meet him where he is and do better. All for that look in his eyes, the little smirk, the way he lights up when Tommy does things like flex when he gets out of the shower, or tells him about Monster Jam World Finals XXII he got them tickets for, or risks becoming one of the watercooler stories of first responders who called 911 to make him dessert on their date.
(Although he’s not telling him or anyone about that one, maybe in twenty years time once the statute of limitations on that kind of relationship-dumbassery passes.)
But right now, in Tommy’s kitchen, Evan is adorable as he shakes his phone screen at Tommy, sounding like a strange mixture of impressed and offended when he says:
“Well, get this: male kangaroos have their balls above their cock. Like, on their belly. And they can move them! Look!”
And whatever Tommy expected, this is not that.
“...Wow,” is the only thing he can think to say as he bends closer to squint at the photo of kangaroo dick-and-balls that Evan’s helpfully zoomed in on.
“But they’ve got nothing on the females,” Evan continues as Tommy studies the thin black thing and the furry sack high above it, thinking that given how kangaroos move around, having some muscles to control the movement of the balls seems like a pretty good idea. Otherwise those long leaps- “Like, I’m not sure if I’m getting this right, because it says here they can be pregnant, like, permanently?”
“What?!” Now that just does not sound right.
“I know! Look at this picture. Can you see-?”
Tommy shuffles closer because somehow the resolution on this photo is even worse.
“Does it say… three vaginas?” That can’t be right.
“I think so!”
“How does that even work?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out!”
“Are you sure it’s real?”
“They’re citing National Geographic!”
“Wow.” Wow.
“Wait, three vaginas and two uteruses? Let me scroll up, that has to be how the pregnancies work…”
Well, that’s it.
“OK. You keep reading that, and I’ll have a look at Wikipedia,” Tommy says as he reaches for his back pocket. “If you find out what it’s called, I can look up the details ther-”
He nearly drops his phone when he feels sudden damp pressure on his forehead and Evan’s hot breath huffing in his hair. And then he’s blinking deep into Evan’s eyes and Evan is cradling his face in his hands, and the screen of his phone is cold against Tommy’s cheek, and Evan’s saying something that sounds like: “Baby, I must have dreamed you up." and "Holy shit, you’re perfect.”
And this isn’t the first time a boyfriend’s called Tommy baby, and he has been called perfect before albeit usually in the context of giving head, but this is Evan Buckley calling him those things, so there’s only one thing Tommy can think to say in response, and that is:
“Evan…” and then he can’t get further than that. Not without a love confession of some sort. Which for all Tommy knows might at this point come out of his mouth kangaroo-based. So Tommy goes in for a kiss instead and bites at Evan’s fat lower lip until he moans and Tommy swallows the sound and-
“...the female kangaroo has four nipples in her pouch…” says a familiar text-to-speech voice without inflection straight into Tommy’s ear.
“Shit, sorry,” yelps Evan as he scrambles to cancel whatever function got called up when he wrapped his arms around Tommy’s neck with his phone still clutched in his hand.
He is ducking his head. Wincing. Blushing. Adorable. And fucking hot. And smart. And kind. And fearless in showing his affection and trying new things in ways that has Tommy wanting to meet him where he is and do better. All for the look in his eyes. So Tommy opens his mouth and says:
“I nearly exploded the house making dessert.”