halfwheeze
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Summary
Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you was beyond my control.
Or,
how Damien and Shayne kissed til they fell in love (order of events not guaranteed).
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To say that Tommy never thought he'd be stuck in a locker room shower stall with Shayne Topp trying to outrun some fuckheads from the baseball team who think they're funny, to say that would be an incredible understatement. Hell, if you'd asked him ten minutes ago, he would have said he'd rather do anything else than get that close to Shayne Topp, who he has never called his nemesis aloud but has in his head a nonzero number of times, which is still embarrassing.
Or, trivia rival/college au tommyshayne. you agree.
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Summary
Tommy doesn't spend a lot of time frequenting the club scene anymore. He's over thirty years old, and as much as he likes a party and has a grand old gay time with the right crowd, the right crowd is getting harder and harder to pin down. He's not exactly sure when the right crowd started being at The Rabbit Hole in a lone standing building in one of the smaller neighborhoods of WeHo, but here he is, drink in hand as he assesses the crowd. Tommy's mind is still wandering as his eyes wander the crowd as well, but both his thoughts and his gaze freeze when the latter lands on a familiar face.
Damien.
OR
the tommien bdsm club fic.
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"Is this seat taken?" a soft voice asks perhaps a minute later, knuckles rapping down on a baluster not far from the one Tommy is resting his back against. He's worked food service for a little too long to startle that easy, so unless the guy is watching the cherry fall out of Tommy's cigarette when his hand fingers tighten and flick, he probably doesn't even know he's startled Tommy. Well, except, he winces a little when Tommy looks up at him, nose wrinkling like an apology is already forming in his mouth, and it's the strangest thing. Through nothing more than sight alone, he knows that he doesn't want to know the sound of the word sorry coming out of this man's mouth.
"Pull up some tile, it's all yours."
Or, catering bartender Tommy meets errant plus one Damien on the balcony of the wedding venue he's catering.
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Summary
The first time really is just a case of wrong place at the wrong time. They've both been on set all day, even Spencer spending most of his time on camera, and neither of them are awake enough for this by the time four in the afternoon hits. Ian had taken a long look at Shayne a few minutes ago and told him to maybe take a minute? A few minutes, even. Maybe go sit in a dark room, drink a hot beverage, whatever he needs. The bags under his eyes must be purple. Ian only gets that worried look to him when somebody is getting bad. Worrying when there's nothing to worry about isn't really his thing.
Not that Shayne is in any condition that needs worrying about. He just gets it, right? He looks like death warmed over.
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or, it takes a couple of times sleeping together for shayne and spencer to sleep together.
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Summary
"guess I'm just trying to look for my own dream."
"and you think you're going to find it in a navy uniform, thousands of miles away at sea?"
"are you gonna find yours at the top of this lighthouse?"
OR
on the cusp of the 50s, shayne is months into his isolating career as a lighthouse keeper. he's been intent on keeping to himself, turning a new leaf in search of peace, when someone distracts him from finishing his book at the bar...