revivalproject | If You Can't Find Hands, Make Them

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If You Can't Find Hands, Make Them

WHO: Tommy Shepherd, Open
WHERE: Greenhouse, Diner, Civics Center Pool
WHAT: Preparations for the Agrii, Pool Boy Shepherd, Faking He's Okay
WHEN: March, mostly mid to late month
WARNINGS: N/A

1. If You Teach A Bot To Weed... | Greenhouse

New helper bots? You better believe Tommy was going to find a way to get them to help him. Not until he tried to name them of course. Give them a chance to be their own people. Life gets weird when you have a sibling and parent who are synthezoids. But anyway, here they were, Tommy and one of the droids that he'd basically affixed some of the Sh'Ka gardening tools to, and Tommy looked exceptionally frustrated.

"No! Not that! That's a good shoot!"

Maybe he was not the best at programming. Building? He was getting better there. But how did you teach a machine what was good and what was bad without being there the whole time.

"Dammit, this might have been a really stupid idea. Maybe the Agrii can do datapoints?"

He looks so frustrated though. And maybe still more than a bit tired. Maybe he wasn't doing this for the Agrii. Maybe he just wanted help.

2. Okay Maybe Just Cleaning | Diner

This, at least, had less of disaster written all over it. The bot seemed to already be doing so well at sweeping and was even wiping down tables well.

"What do you think of Roberto?" he called out to the little machine, which ignored that since it didn't have the right verbal input. Tommy sighed.

"I miss droids that would talk back," he says to himself before he returns to chopping salad at the counter so he can watch the bot work. "You're not really friendly even if you're friend shaped. Though I think some people would be offended at proper AI running things here. So much prejudice against sentient machines."

3. Pool Boy Shepherd Doing All Your Work | Civics Center Roof

Okay, maybe it's not fair to call him a poolboy. But hey, he's by a pool, he's in short shorts and a crop top and flipflops, and he's cleaning up the top of the Civics Center roof. Actually, Tommy's been at it for a few days now. If he's learned anything about the Agrii, it's that they like water, and he wanted to make sure there was a safe place to do that at. He had heard stories, he didn't remember where, that the remains of the flooded area that he and Vision and Katara had reduced back in their first days here could be dangerous. Who knew if the Agrii could handle that.

But hey, if Tommy knew one thing, it was what went into a fucking baller rooftop tropical getaway. He may have 'borrowed' those of wealthy people the world over more than a few times. So on any given day he could be seen at one of many kinds of work. One afternoon it's using a pump system to pump the less than clean water from the pool. Another it's scrubbing the thing thoroughly, usually with some sort of cleaning towels on his feet while he ran around it (friction was a good cleaning method). Another afternoon it's spreading some weird stinky putty stuff that would dry hard that the old guy Reeve gave him into cracks and holes and letting it try. And of course there's the trying to restore the tile work to it.

Frankly, he was giving himself a crash course in pool repairs.

And when he wasn't working on restoring the whole surprisingly deep thing (it made sense now that he knew some Agrii), he was working on the area around it. Some of the plants that had grown up over the top of the building he was carefully trimming back. In other places he was putting young potted trees with wide leaves to create cooling shade, and anchoring their pots down for safety. There were even some things that looked like his attempts at dragging some kinds of cushions up to the roof for reclining. He was trying, even if he wasn't certain exactly what was needed. And after his funk, he deserved applause for doing this much.

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"Is that a complaint I hear? Because I can go jerk off in the bathroom if you want," he says, grinning back with that shit eating grin of his. It's an empty threat - it'll always be an empty threat for that.

But oh how he groans at the fantasy Tommy gives him. A fantasy his body is clearly interested in as he's now sporting a tent. Again. The stamina of youth is clearly working in their favor.

He stops at the bedside and admires Tommy's work. "Yeah? Want me to facefuck you and mold that throat into the shape of me?"

"Oh no, not a complaint," he says with a chuckle as well. "Though I guess I could imagine a lot of things then."

But then there's Billy close and Tommy just lets his smile go into a full shit eating grin. Oh, don't threaten him with a good time.

"Yeah, I think I made it clear I would."

"You definitely wouldn’t complain because you’d get to watch my ass as I go back to the bathroom."

Then a laugh. "Don’t ruin my attempts at dirty talk!" he teases, leaning over a little to just give a playful tap like a hit. "I’d bend you over the hood of the Camaro. Get little dice to hang from the mirror so you can watch them quake from the force of me fucking you against her. That’s been my latest scenario since October."

"Don't be right," Tommy chides. Billy did have a damn nice ass. One he would be glad to get a proper eyeful of. But that wasn't for today.

"Oh, that's your..."

Tommy's snark about the level of dirty talk fades as he hears what Billy says. That makes him groan and his hand pick up its pace a bit on his still aching cock.

"Fuuuuuuck man."

Billy laughs. "I'll be right anytime I want. You already got a grab on it earlier, which even lets me know I am extra right."

But enough about ass. Billy's got his eyes locked onto Tommy's hand. Onto the length of his cock. He's seen plenty before, of course he has. Those locker room showers got plenty of use and Billy was good at using his peripheral vision to sneak peeks.

Now he doesn't have to do that. So he's got his sights set on his boyfriend to absolutely drink in the state of the speester. He reaches down to adjust himself again, giving a squeeze to take some of the edge off - if only for a moment.

"Look at you go. Picturing it? Your hands scrambling against the hood with my hand in your hair holding you right where I want you? The other on your hip to leave some bruises in the shape of my hand there? Bet you'd get so into it you'd hike your leg up on the hood to open yourself up more for me. Give me an easy view to see me make that hole mine."

Yes, he's picturing it. He closes his eyes to picture it better. And he can almost feel it. Not quite, though. And he can live with that fact.

"For a guy who hadn't really held hands with a guy before, you've got a damn vivid imagination, Sunshine."

And a bit of a potential exhibitionist streak. Naughty of him.

"It's all I could get away with back home," he remarks. Alright, he's got a hand in his shorts now, working at himself. He's had one orgasm already, but he can get another. Maybe even another after this one if Tommy keeps being a sex god on the bed like this.

"Swap out a guy's name for a girl's and Neil wouldn't know who I'm thinking about." Anything to get by like this. "One day it won't just be in our imaginations, will it?" He says, then bites into his lower lip as he jerks himself. Billy's eyes are dark and focused on the speedster spread out in front of him, and he moans because fuck. His boyfriend looks so fucking good.

Yeah, that's a good point. Billy had a whole shit ass father. Which they were not going to talk or think about any further.

"You're right," Tommy agrees. "If you really want it to be real, then we can make the reality that we want."

And he's making that work for him now, watching Billy's hand as he moves his own.

A feverish nod. "One day," he promised in a breathy voice. His hand gives some attention to the head, which pushes a bead out. That quickly gets swiped away to keep things slick.

"God, you are so fucking handsome like this. Spread out before me like a feast. Already picturing me between those spread legs in the backseat of the Camaro." He licks his lips. "How many can you go for? I can’t keep up but I wanna know."

Shit, Billy does know how hot he is right now, doesn't he?

"Never had someone who really had the patience," he admits, his voice getting breathy as he thrusts more eagerly into his own hand. "Five is about as much as I can do on my own before I get bored."

Of course he does! Billy thinks being hot is his default setting at this point. But he's really only focused on jerking himself to climax and keeping his eyes on his boyfriend. "How could someone not have the patience? I'm committing each of your orgasms to memory."

Billy licks his lips, hand flying quickly over himself with a groan. His own is approaching quickly and he's trying to pick where on Tommy he should finish. "You're almost to four. Look how eager those hips are moving. Means you're close... right?"

"Shit," Tommy groans, his hips shivering as he starts to thrust harder into his hand. He's getting closer than he expected he could so soon.

"Filthy mouth," he groans. "Y-yes. Close. Fuck you wind me up."

They both were close. So close. Billy figures it's from months of getting nothing. It wasn't like there was a large population looking for one night stands here. He groans into his next sentence, "loved you grabbing onto me for that first climax you had. The way your hips jerked against mine like that."

Oh shit. Billy throws his head back as the reminder of it sends him over the edge. The blond shifts closer, trying to get more of it on Tommy than the bed, but he's too busy going through the pleasure to really pay that close attention. "Fuck, fuck, Tommy."

The way his boyfriend's name spills from his lips is so amazing, and he just wants more of it.

Shit. Shit shit shit. How the hell is he going to survive someone this good? Tommy doesn't know and he doesn't care because he comes with one last wordless cry. And yeah, for now, he's tired as hell. That's not something that can be questioned.

"Fuck," he finally hisses out. "I need to shower."

There's a sheen of sweat on Billy's forehead and temples. There's labored breathing as his body finishes shuddering through the aftermath and he finally lets go to gaze down at his boyfriend. He's alert enough to watch Tommy come once more, making it four now, to add to all of their mess.

Such a mess.

"Yeah?" Billy sounds worn out for certain. "I got the rag to at least get that started. Or is that gonna be to sexy for you?"

"I'm gonna close my eyes," Tommy suggests. "That way you can't tempt me again with your stupid levels of hot."

Seriously, it's just not fair.

Billy gives a tired snort. "According to your own calculations, you have one more before you get bored. But," he tucks himself back into his shorts and leans over to press a firm kiss to Tommy's sweaty forehead. "I'll behave. For now. For my boyfriend's own good."

He could also use a shower, but for now, he'll settle for picking up the wet cloth he had already gotten to start cleaning up Tommy's chest and midsection.

"Oh, fuck off and have pity on a guy," Tommy laughs before throwing an arm over his eyes. Billy was just too good.

" But thanks babe. That was amazing."

"I am having pity on you. That's why you're getting cleaned up instead of getting one more round." Billy could go more, but he'd rather not for the sake of his partner. Once he's satisfied with that cleanup job, he makes quick work of his own mess and tosses the cloth over to the door to deal with later.

He sits on the bed and reaches over to ruffle a hand through that white hair. "Still need a shower? Or did I wear you down for a nap?"

"You're my favorite," he chuckles as Billy does so. And hey, cleaned up is nice.

With the question asked, Tommy reaches out to grip Billy's wrist to try and pull him down into the bed.

"Nap now and I'll make you a pizza later."

"I better be," he shoots back with a grin. If he wasn't the favorite, they would not be dating. He allows himself to be snared and pulled down onto the bed with a laugh and a creak of the frame. "And yeah. You're my favorite, too."

He curls around his boyfriend and tangles their legs together. "Mm, you better." There's no heat to that, and instead of trying to further the conversation, Billy tucks his face against Tommy's shoulder and neck. A nap sounded really good right now.

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If You Can't Find Hands, Make Them

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