Tandy Bowen doesn't have to pick between (cloakndagger) wrote in repose,
Re: Billy/Tandy: the neighborhood
Okay. So Tandy was not familiar with genres of sub-culture, namely: homosexuality 201, the upperclassman's edition of 'how to get laid in repressed environments'. He didn't flinch at the teasing. Tandy was accustomed to teasing. He was accustomed to the cusp line between mocking and teasing being walked up to, and examined, except Tandy was also six foot three and large, so it was rare that the line was crossed, at least, ever since puberty. He smiled at Billy, who confirmed the dirtiness of his crack, and deadpanned. "Accessories not included. And batteries are sold separately."
But the room. He liked the room. Unequivocally, which was demonstrable as far as Tandy figured. It looked serene. It looked like home, in the weird way that jigsaw pieces suddenly clicked together when you'd been staring at them for half an hour and it felt odd and pleasant and strangely a little painful that this, when this was the furthest from home Tandy could technically find given multi-universe (on present working theory) was the epitome of home and he'd lived in it all of five minutes.
Not a lot of this showed on the surface of course. But that was growing up alongside Holly, and scrupulous about deadpan. "I'm good. You can invite a party. Just if you're intending to use it for work purposes, a sock, maybe?"
But Billy cracked another joke that undoubtedly did not feature a garden-set and Tandy gave a long-suffering sigh. "That's a sex thing." He wasn't utterly unknowledgeable but it felt as if Billy was leaning hard into something, and playing the straight man wasn't hard. "Hey. It's purple."