TOMMY HADN'T MADE it that far from the house before the exhaustion yet again set in. Instead, he and Mason sat on the beach just down the road, the house still in view. It wasn't beach weather, the sky was grey, and a salty mist hung in the air. Tommy pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his chin on top, watching the waves crash on the shore. Mason sat in silence next to him, still as quiet but strong as ever. Tommy clenched and unclenched the fingers that had once been interlocked with his.
He felt as though he was losing his mind. This wasn't the way he did things. He didn't get attached to the people he stayed with because every time he had in the past - they ended up dead. Now he had his Uncle here - the man who broke his heart. And he had these people around him who gave their patience over to him, who despite knowing his family's brutality first hand, asked him to stay. And Mason. God was Mason all-consuming. Tommy had thought him to be arrogant at first, but he had misjudged him then. It wasn't arrogance, (well, maybe a little) but an understanding that ate away at him in the same way it did Tommy.
He didn't scold him for being so harsh on Christian, or for basically accusing them all of only looking after him to bring the Sinclair family down - like Tommy thought he would. He had hoped that when he dropped the folder into his lap, he would tell him to leave, that it was all he had wanted from him. At least that would've been easier. Instead, he held him, his steady hand behind his neck as he let all his anger out on his Uncle.
Tommy so badly wanted to walk back to the house and apologize for what he said, but he knew he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself because he meant every word of it, even if it was harsh. He had tried to avoid this altogether, he had tried to ignore the feelings eating away at him every time he saw Christian. But he couldn't do it anymore, and he hated every word he said, he hated it most because he meant it, he hated how all the good memories from his childhood included him, and how now they were all tainted. Tommy couldn't stop his body from trembling at the thought of all the words he said and forced his eyes to stay open and on the ocean, even when the tears began to fall.
"I can't forgive him," Tommy choked out, pressing his hand over his mouth in an attempt to swallow back the sobs.
"Nobody expects you too, you just have to trust him and if you can't do that, then trust me, haven't I proven that much?" Mason turned his attention from the beach to Tommy, his shoulder bumping slightly against his own.
Tommy turned his gaze away as he thought about his answer. His eyes lingering on the dock house, a weatherbeaten cube of in nineteenth-century grandeur. It was raised up out of the ocean by out-curving support beams for the purpose of enabling elderly ladies to sit out on pleasant afternoons to watch the sailboats leaning at their work - it was something that he might've wanted to paint if he ever picked up a brush again, though with the way his hands had trembled non-stop for the past years he doubted that would ever happen. He let his mind drift only momentarily to the fact that his mother would like this small town, she would've painted every inch of it if she had the chance.
"I will let you know when I see you follow through on that deal and I get to break that asshole Sam's nose again," Tommy forced a smile while smudging his cheek against his shoulder to get rid of the tears.
"I'll make sure of it."
Pain lolled through his side where his ribs ached, the pain medication and hangover finally beginning to wear off. He readjusted himself slightly, tightening an arm around his shins, he knocked his side against Mason's slightly, but it didn't seem to warrant a reaction from him in the slightest. Tommy didn't know why he expected Mason to lash out at him for the smallest of things, but he thought that if he did, he might be even more shocked for it. Tommy thought him to be extremely confusing.
"I don't get you, or your mood swings," Tommy muttered, turning his head to the side and resting it on his knees, blatantly watching Mason.
"I don't have mood swings, you are just putting it together now because I didn't take that folder, that I genuinely want to help you," Mason replied, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Why are you letting me?" Tommy stared at Mason, stunned by that response. He didn't know the answer, he just felt drawn to him in a way he had never felt towards anyone before. He thought it foolish. Maybe it was just a crush. It's not like Mason would see him that way anyways, not with the way he looked like he could drop dead at any rate.
"God, stop overthinking," Mason chuckled slightly, which took Tommy even more by surprise. He quickly wiped his eyes dry on his jacket and sighed, he wanted to hear that laugh again... Yeah, this was just a stupid crush.
"I don't get it," Tommy muttered under his breath, sounding frustrated but not at Mason's teasing, it was directed entirely at the way his heart was current smashing against his ribs.
"I know the types of things your brother does to people and nobody deserves that. I know you think you do for some reason, but you don't," Mason explained, his words carefully articulated as if not to give anything away.
Tommy wanted to ask what Mason had been through in the past because he had a pretty good feeling that it included Jonathan, but he didn't. He thought that maybe, one day, Mason would tell him on his own accord - and wasn't that a thought? That one day - as if he expected himself to wait for that day as if he was really going to be here still, or alive even to earn Mason's trust. And yet, he was hopeful for it. He'd always been told that hope was a dangerous and unrequited thing, and here he was yearning after it... That maybe this small town and the people here were enticing him towards it.
"Are you going to stay again?" Tommy asked before he could stop himself, it was the first thing he could think of saying apart from carrying on the conversation about Jonathan. He kept his eyes forward, even when he felt Mason watching him still.
"Do you want me too?" Mason replied yet again with another question as if he was not phased in the slightest by Tommy's abruptness - maybe that's why he continued to speak without thinking.
"Yes, I slept better than I have in a long time," Tommy wondered how long it would take to bury his head under the sand, words were just slipping out of his mouth, and he felt his whole face turn a bright shade of pink.
"You're blushing."
"You held my hand all night." Tommy attempted to bite back with stating the obvious, tried to embarrass Mason as much as he was.
"Because you needed me too," Tommy stared back at him, the shock must've been written all over his face because Mason raised an eyebrow and huffed in exasperation. He kept his mouth shut, not knowing what would come out if he spoke, whatever it was he knew that Mason was right and there was no arguing that.
"After everything, I used to not be able to sleep without Sasha holding my hand, it felt like I had someone keeping watch," Mason exclaimed softly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion as if he hadn't expected himself to speak about something so intimate.
"I'm sorry... For whatever it was that Jonathan did to you," Tommy spoke, and to his surprise, Mason gave away nothing to whether or not his words had struck a chord or not. It was silent for a few moments, those seconds dragging on as they looked at each other, both gauging what the other wanted.
"You aren't responsible for what you're brother did, don't apologize," Mason said tentatively, and Tommy realized that this was him admitting to it, that Jonathan not only had his father killed but that he was apart of it, that Mason really did understand who his brother was and what he was capable of.
"Still feels like I should..."
Mason sighed and shook his head, a gesture that from anyone else would look as though it was out of disappointment, but on Mason, it just seemed like acceptance, like he wasn't going to argue it. Tommy curled up more into himself, tucking his chin against his collarbones and pressing his lips to his knees, returning his eyes to the seashore. He was still trying to figure out when things shifted between them. Maybe last night? When Mason held onto him when he couldn't find himself in his panic. Perhaps it was before that, the small things, the understanding that showed in his eyes every time he looked at Tommy since the first moment they met.
He didn't realize he was beginning to lean into Mason's side until he adjusted his arm behind Tommy, his fingers digging into the dirt. His arm was like one of the dock house's support beams - strong and sturdy, prepared to hold him up if he was to fall backwards. Tommy's eyelids grew heavy, his body sore and his eye beginning to throb.
"Do you need to go back? I'll tell them to leave," Mason asked softly, his lips near Tommy's ear.
"I just want to stay here for a bit," Tommy's words were muffled against his knees, and he let his eyes close, let the smell of saltwater fill his senses, let the crashing of waves take him away.
"Okay."
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