Lincoln hates Tom immediately. The kid was six foot four inches of awkward teenager, all attractive, polite smiles and shuffling feet next to his kid brother. It really doesn't matter how many times he tells himself that it's pathetic for a grown man, just turned 21 and able to legally drink thank you very much, to hate a seventeen year old boy and seemingly Michael's only friend; but he can't help it.

They sit around the coffee table doing homework; Michael explaining a mathematical equation that makes Lincoln's head hurt for it's complexity and Tom moving as close as discreetly possible to make as though he wants to see the spot in the book to which Michael is pointing. Lincoln feels his eyes narrow to glaring slits and he's surprised that the kid isn't a piece of bacon at this point.

Michael is engrossed in math and Tom is engrossed in Michael and Lincoln hates the whole thing but cannot bring himself to kick the only friend Michael has ever brought home out of the apartment. He considers and decides it's stupid to sit around watching his brother do homework with a friend on a Friday night. Michael is a smart kid and he doesn't need big brother looking over his shoulder like some overprotective father making sure his daughter doesn't show too much leg at the family outing. And with that, Lincoln is up and grabbing his jacket from the makeshift coat hanger and then heading out the door.

Lincoln is only a few steps into the hall when the image of Tom leaning in, all coy-like and kissing Michael enters his head and before he can process a rational thought he's turned around and heading back to the apartment door as fast as his feet can carry him.

The door slams shut and he's got his back against it and the two boys are now staring at him with twin looks of teenager for "you're a fucking freak" (although Tom seemed to have been going for polite concern and couldn't quite get there) and Lincoln is responding with a tight lipped smile that is supposed to look innocent but probably looks manic until he finally clears his throat and finds the words to excuse himself. "I'm actually kind of tired, work all day y'know?" He lets out a breathy, uncomfortable laugh, makes his way to the couch and sits down heavily. "I'm just gonna lounge around for a bit if you two don't mind. I'll keep quiet while you study."

He bends to pick up a random newspaper next to the couch and almost misses the way Michael raises his eyebrow in that way that makes him look even more astute and Lincoln only knows what astute means because Michael told him. But then Michael breaks into a sweet, almost relieved smile. "Of course we don't mind. It'll be nice having you around on a Friday night. You're always out, we never just hang out anymore."

Lincoln knows what he means even if it sounds completely innocent. He can almost hear the relief in his brother's voice that big brother won't be coming home drunk and aggressive tonight. He almost feels bad until he looks over at Tom and sees a look of dejection and disappointment cross his stupid handsome face before he schools his features and Lincoln can't help but give an entirely inwardly sadistic but outwardly friendly chuckle while he picks up the paper.

When he sees that Tom isn't so close to Michael anymore, Lincoln can't help but grin widely and clear his throat which grants him an annoyed glare from Michael and a wide eyed look from Tom and the world is as it should be. That is, until Lincoln's next thoughts are 'Not if I have anything to say about it Tommy, Michael is mine.' and then he's making a mad dash into his bedroom because his face is burning and he's thinking bad thoughts that are making his pants uncomfortable in the crotch and all he wants to do is kick Tom's ass because he's sure that somehow this is all his fault.