#spilled some tomgreg on the tomgerri fic and then decided to keep it

[tomwambsmilk]

gobble gobble for the wip post!

Gobble Gobble!!! I'm SO glad you asked about Gobble Gobble, liam, because that is my TomGerri thanksgiving fic and I am VERY attached to it <3

I don't want to give too much away with this one, but the basic premise is - Logan has died, Gerri is chair of the board, Tom is CEO, and Tom and Gerri are in what is more or less a relationship of convenience. Its the first Thanksgiving after Logan's death, and all the Roy siblings end up crashing their apartment, in part because they don't know where else to go, and in part because they've subconsciously transferred their mommy and daddy issues onto Tom and Gerri now that they're running things. Greg, Roman, and Shiv, are all trying to break them up - Greg is jealous of Gerri, Roman is jealous of Tom, and Shiv just strongly dislikes the idea of her ex-husband getting together with her godmother. Greg and Shiv both show up with dates that they think will make Tom jealous - Shiv shows up with a hot young physical trainer that she hopes will make Tom feel inadequate, and Greg shows up with Tim, a management consultant with an MBA from Cornell who looks like a young Colin Firth. (Tom and Tim hit it off immediately). Kendall shows up intending to start shit with Tom, but is so deeply amused by Operation End TomGerri that he forgets about his beef with Tom altogether. Connor is utterly oblivious to what's going on and has an overall lovely time.

Three snippets for this one - two from the beginning and one from towards the end - because I love it so much and I've been working on it forever:

“They’re good pies,” Gerri responded absentmindedly, crossing to the coffee maker on the other side of the kitchen to pour herself a mug. 

“Well, thank you. But it is just the two of us.”

“Uh-huh.” Gerri didn’t look up from the mug she was adding sugar to. Tom moved back towards the oven, crouching down to glance through the door.

“That’s… a big turkey.”

“Uh-huh,” Gerri said again, turning back towards Tom and leaning against the counter. 

Tom straightened up to look at her, arching an eyebrow. “...It is just the two of us, right?”

Gerri took a long drink before saying, “Well, I didn’t invite anyone else. Did you invite anyone else?”

“No. Of course not. Because, as I recall, we’ve spent a decent amount of time talking about how nice it’ll be to have a quiet, adult Thanksgiving, with just the two of us.” Tom crossed his arms and gave Gerri a querying look. 

“Right. Okay. So - no, we’re not expecting anyone else.” She took another drink. “...I do think, though, that it pays to be prepared.”

“Uh-huh.” Gerri was a far better liar than he was, but they’d been sleeping together long enough that Tom knew when something was off. “Prepared for… what, the entirety of the Waystar board to drop by? Because I think we could probably feed them with all this.”

“Well, just… prepared for anything, you know?” Gerri crossed behind him into the living room, patting his arm as she went by. “This is why you should’ve joined the Boy Scouts, Tom.”    

***************

When Tom came back into the living room, wine and beer in hand, Shiv seemed to be deep in the story of how she and Jackson met.

“... So yeah, we’d see each other pretty regularly that way. He helped me tone my calves.”

Tom frowned before he could catch himself, and Shiv quickly added, “Jackson’s a personal trainer.”

“Oh.” That explained the ungodly musculature. He handed them their drinks, and then perched on Gerri’s armrest and draped an arm around her shoulders.  

Shiv blinked when he did that - just a little blink, the kind of thing that would look normal to someone you hadn’t been married to. Then, suddenly, like it was something that had been on her to-do list but she had forgotten to check off, she slid six inches towards Jackson to close the gap between them and wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into him. He looked surprised, but just wrapped an arm around her in response (and Tom also saw Shiv’s tell-tale twitch when he did it, the discomfort with PDA that had never really abated).  

“So yeah, we’ve been having a lot of fun together. It’s really been great, what with - you know, Jackson’s just got that… youthful stamina, I guess,” she said, with a little smirk, and Tom would’ve had to be excessively stupid not to catch the little dig at his own age and stamina. 

*******************

“Of course.” Tom placed a hand on Greg’s shoulder, and this time, Greg didn't stiffen. They stayed like that for a beat. Tom glanced at Greg, his head still bowed, his face still miserable. He felt something twist in him a bit. What an awful night for Greg. A thought popped into his head, against his better judgment. Should he? No, that would be fucking insane. Still. He knew exactly what Greg had been trying to do, and in for a penny, in for a pound, so:

“You want me to jerk you off, Greg?”

The way Greg jumped and spluttered was itself reward enough for that decision. It was endearing, really, the shocked ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ routine.

“What the fuck, Tom?”

Tom shrugged. “I’m serious. And you’ve had kind of a shitty night, so.”

Greg’s eyes were darting everywhere but at Tom. “What- Tom- I- That’s-”  Tom could've put him out of his misery, but it was infinitely more entertaining to watch him lose his mind. “Fucking what, man?” 

“Gerri and I aren’t exclusive.” Tom threw it out there casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Greg went from looking everywhere but at him to staring Tom directly in the eye, slack-jawed. “You- you’re- you’re engaged, dude.”

“Uh-huh. For financial reasons, mostly. Better tax rates and all that. Plus, in the event that some of Waystar’s more… unsavoury history comes out, a husband and wife can’t be compelled to testify against each other, so it seemed like a good strategic move.” 

“Holy shit… what? So you guys are just… you’re not like…” Greg opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish while trying to finish his sentence. “You’re not like… together-together?”

“Don’t be so binary, Greg. You can marry someone for tax reasons and still have great sex with them.” 

“Eugh,” Greg groaned and looks back out at the city skyline. “I don’t - I don’t want to hear about that.” 

Tom shrugs. “Suit yourself. The offer still stands, though. If you want to get off.”

Greg’s jaw clenched at that. “Yeah, I’m not really interested in being some third wheel to whatever fucked-up arrangement you and Gerri have.” 

“Okay. Okay. Let me start again.” Tom takes a deep breath. “I know what you were trying to do tonight Greg.” 

It shouldn’t have been possible, but Greg clenched his jaw even harder. Tom plowed forward anyways. 

“Seriously. First off - Tim, Greg? With an MBA from Cornell? You couldn’t have been more obvious if you painted it on your forehead.” Tom chuckled to himself. “You and your dad really do have similar taste, I guess.” 

“Tom-”

“Sorry, I know, I said I wouldn’t. Sorry. The point is -” Tom had to pause there. What did he want, exactly? 

Against all odds, he was actually happy with his arrangement with Gerri. She was a comfortable housemate, the strategy was good, and the sex was great. He figured he could probably live like that until one of them died and be perfectly satisfied. 

But.

He wouldn't go so far as to say he was in love with Greg. “In love” was one of those phrases you didn't throw around lightly. “In love” had all sorts of connotations that Tom wasn't sure he could apply to his relationship with Greg. But he did love Greg. In some way, on some level, this stupid kid meant the world to him, even though he’d been terrible at showing it.