#118 weeks at number one!

[jimin-updates]

K-media reports on another win for Jimin!

Please make sure to interact with the original article!

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World 1993

"The Man Who Sold the World" is the title track of David Bowie's third studio album, which was released in 1970 in the US and in 1971 in the UK. Although no singles were issued from the album, the song appeared as the B-side on the 1973 reissue US single release of "Space Oddity" and UK single release of "Life on Mars?".

In his journals, Kurt Cobain of the American grunge band Nirvana ranked the album The Man Who Sold the World at number 45 in his top 50 favourite albums. Nirvana subsequently recorded a live rendition of the song during their MTV Unplugged appearance at Sony Music Studios in New York City on 18 November 1993 and it was included on their MTV Unplugged in New York album released on November 1, 1994, nearly seven months following the death of Cobain. The song was also released as a promotional single for the album in 1995.

Nirvana's cover received considerable airplay on alternative rock radio stations and was also placed into heavy rotation on MTV, peaking at number 3 on MTV's most played videos on 18 February 1995; it also peaked for two weeks at number 7 on Canada's MuchMusic Countdown in March 1995. Nirvana regularly covered the song during live sets after their MTV Unplugged performance up until Cobain's death. In 2002, the song was re-released on Nirvana's self-titled "best of" compilation.

Bowie said of Nirvana's cover: "I was simply blown away when I found that Kurt Cobain liked my work, and have always wanted to talk to him about his reasons for covering 'The Man Who Sold the World'" and that "it was a good straight forward rendition and sounded somehow very honest." Bowie called Nirvana's cover "heartfelt", noting that "until this [cover], it hadn't occurred to me that I was part of America's musical landscape. I always felt my weight in Europe, but not [in the US]." In the wake of its release, Bowie bemoaned the fact that when he performed the number himself, he would encounter "kids that come up afterwards and say, 'It's cool you're doing a Nirvana song.' And I think, 'Fuck you, you little tosser!'"

At a pre–Grammy Awards party on 14 February 2016, Nirvana band members Krist Novoselic, Dave Grohl, and Pat Smear teamed up with Beck to perform "The Man Who Sold the World" in tribute to Bowie – who had died the month before — with Beck performing vocals.

"The Man Who Sold the World" received a total of 77,6% yes votes! Dave Grohl has previously been featured in the polls with Foo Fighter's "The Pretender" at #111 and as a drummer on Queens of the Stone Age's "No One Knows" at #87, and David Bowie has been featured with "I'm Afraid of Americans" at #33.

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #31

August 23-30 2024

The Department of Transportation announced $521 million to help increase the number of electric vehicle charging ports. They money will go to projects in 29 different states, DC, and 8 tribal governments. It'll help build over 9,200 EV charging ports. Since Biden took office publicly available EV chargers has doubled, there are now over 192,000 public EV chargers in the nation with about 1,000 new ones being added every week.

The Department of The Interior announced the first ever lease for off-shore wind power in Oregon. When fully developed the two sites in Southern Oregon will generate 3.1 gigawatts of clean, renewable energy, enough to power a million homes. Under the Biden-Harris administration first of their kind off-shore wind power projects have been approved and started in the Pacific and Gulf of Mexico coasts. In total 13 gigawatts of clean energy from offshore wind projects, enough to power nearly 5 million homes, has been approved.

Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland finalized the protection of 28 million acres of public lands across Alaska.  In the last days of the Trump Administration protections for these lands were lifted. The Trump Interior Department did not consult with the Alaska natives who depend on these protected lands before lifting the protections. Deb Haaland the first Native American to serve as Secretary of the Interior declared "Tribal consultation must be treated as a requirement – not an option"

The Department of Health and Human Services announced $558 Million for improving maternal health. This is part of the Biden-Harris Administration's effort to address the maternal health crisis, which has been lead by Vice-President Harris. $440 million of the money will help expand a program of home visiting services for maternal, infant, and early childhood. $118 million, through the CDC, will go to 46 states, and six territories, over 5 years to help build the public health infrastructure to better identify and prevent pregnancy-related deaths.

It was announced that Maine will join the IRS' Direct File program for tax year 2025. Maine joins Oregon, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New Mexico, Connecticut, North Carolina, and Wisconsin along with the original 12 states. The Direct File program, made possible by President Biden's Inflation Reduction Act, allows tax payers to file, for free, simple returns with the IRS. The 140,000 tax payers who used the pilot program in 2024 saved a collective $5.6 million in filing costs. Maine's Revenue Services plans to work with the ISR to allow tax payers to file their state taxes by just transferring the info from the ISR direct file.

[fandom-oneshots-etc]

Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)

🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.

🍄 Word Count: 1618

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications

🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)

You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.

Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.

What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.

Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.

Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.

“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.

“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”

Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.

What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.

It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.

“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.

“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”

“What made him get in there?”

“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.

As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.

“Buck, I’m-”

“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.

“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.

“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”

“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”

“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.

“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”

[sexhaver]

definitely one of the most difficult moments of my professional career was when i was doing tech support for [REDACTED]'s automated biomed research lab and like. hang on lemme greentext this

>tell them i can fix this issue in half an hour with a remote support session (aka Teamviewer)

>"you want to... control our computers???? over the internet????? like some kind of HACKER???????"

>their IT submits my request to upper management and after two weeks they reluctantly allow me to get remote access to their systems

>by logging into a virtual machine using a 20-digit password and then using a specific program inside of that virtual machine

>while sharing my screen with someone from their IT team the entire time

>finally get remote access to the PC with the issue

>go to open log files to start troubleshooting

>ERROR: User does not have read permissions.

>what the fuck

>ask their IT guy why it's saying that

>"...because we don't want you looking at our stuff, duh?"

>take deep breath before calmly explaining that i need to open files in order to fix their problem

>IT guy submits my request to upper management

>after another week i go through the whole process again but can actually open the log file this time

>cool, it's exactly the issue i thought it was and i know exactly how to solve it

>open the relevant settings file, change a single number, hit Save

>ERROR: User does not have write permissions.

>what the FUCK

>ask IT guy how i'm supposed to fix their system if i can't change literally anything on it

>takes 20 minutes of arguing to get him to admit that maybe i need write access

>he submits the request to upper management

>a week goes by

>upper management denies it

>says i can just verbally tell the IT guy on the call what to type and he'll do it for me

>deep breaths. deep breaths.

>start third remote session

>go to open the relevant .log file in notepad, which isn't the default program it opens with for some reason

>they fucking disabled right clicking

>[REDACTED] has a $118 billion market cap btw

>manage to walk the IT guy through using the command line (which he had never seen before and was scared of) to edit the relevant file

>three weeks go by

>new support ticket in my inbox

>"why didn't your fix fix this completely unrelated issue?"

>they still won't give me write access

>VP of [REDACTED] yells at me in our weekly meeting for taking so long to fix a third unrelated issue they never submitted a ticket for and is also not actually an "issue" but an intended feature of our software that they don't like

>i went to college for this

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

REC LIST NUMBER 6! The theme is PINING if you couldn’t already tell. I haven’t done a lot of writing recently but I have done A LOT of reading so here are some of the lovely stories I have come across over the last few weeks. As always, please show these authors some love in their comments xx REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend

put my heart inside your palms by @markofalover | T | 3k

An accidental pet name, a thoughtful dinner, and a shared shirt. Buddie are too domestic for my health and well-being! I want what they have!!

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by @neverevan | E | 75k 

During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him AKA the Mudslide Missing!Eddie fic with pining for daaayyyyyyyzzzzzzz

Left Unsaid by C_M2 | M | 33k 

The discovery of a small facebook group full of tsunami survivors rocks station 118. This fic is amazing!! The perfect amount of pining angst, domestic feels and firefam love and goodness 💕💕

If I Should Fall by @elvensorceress | T | 23k

Buck thinks Tommy has died but it's actually Eddie. He is not dead but almost and they have to figure things out from there. This fic had me feeling like my heart has been gutted from my chest and dissected before my very eyes but it has the happy ending we all deserve. 

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies | G | 27k

Eddie is the only one who doesn't realize he and Buck are dating 😭 This is a perfectly sweet and angsty miscommunication fic. 

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by @theleftboobgrabber | E | 49k

The firehouse has a bet and Buck and Eddie work it in their favor. Once again Eddie pining for dayyyyzzzzzzzzzzz. (I’ve been on a Pining!Eddie kick recently). Perfect Buckley Diaz family feels. 

light me and i'll burn for you by @woodchoc-magnum | M | 31k

An old friend of Buck's joins the 118 and he kinda sucks. Eddie pines and falls down a hole (literally). Seriously though the pining and the angst in this fic is just delicious and with a happy ending to boot <3

The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by @elvensorceress | T | 17k

Eddie makes the love confession to end all love confessions while perfecting the balance between pining and not giving a f*ck. I love me a Jenwyn fic and this one is fabulous as always. 

love bites so deep and we've got tiger teeth by @usereddie | M | 10k

Rather than going to texas with his grandparents Christopher goes to stay with Buck for an extended sleepover and Eddie realizes he is incredibly in love with his best friend. Honestly I am OBSESSED!!! This is officially my season 7 ending <3

hearts on fire by @woodchoc-magnum | M | 65k

This is a canon divergence on Season 2 where Buck and Eddie almost get together but then Abby comes back and Eddie lets buck go and then regrets it while trying to be happy for him. The pining, the self-sabotage, honestly is all one big tasty meal and topped off with a happy ending and a side salad of the Shannon and Eddie friends/co-parents arc that they deserved!!

like a dog with a bird at your door by @shitouttabuck | E | 51k

Set post s6, Eddie is injured on a call and Buck moves in to help with his recovery whilst learning to navigate his feelings for his best friend and pining for the position Eddie’s girlfriend holds. honestly, I’m actually only halfway through reading this fic but OMG I’M ASDFFGGHJJKKL and I just already knew this would be making it onto the next rec list so I'm adding it to this one preemptively. 

[myimaginarywonderland]

I present to you:

Tommy and Josh are friends. Somehow after some calls they got friendly and at one point decided to just hang out after exchanging numbers and texting for a while. They clicked. They found out they both were gay and it's so easy to finally have a friend that gets it.

So at one of their hangouts after the hurrican thing Tommy talks about the stunt the 118 pulled and he is like making fun before he talks about this guy being a literal golden retriever, trying to encourage the them and Josh just laughs and says "That's Buck alright." And Tommy just slowly turns to Josh with a look, a look that Josh has come to know and Josh goes "No Tommy, no."

And Tommy is all like "I didn't even say anything!"

And Josh is like "I get it trust me. First few times I meet him, I also crushed but that man is straight and also a giant idiot. His heart is too big and he wouldn't know how to turn you down. As his friend, I am telling you do not."

And Tommy goes "fine" and then they continue on with Tommy telling Josh about meeting up with Eddie and Josh makes a joke about the two army guys obviously bonding.

Cut to like three weeks later (They have both had different shift schedules and Josh has helped Maddie with the wedding) and they meet up after the restaurant date and Josh can sense something is wrong with his friend.

He wants to probe but Tommy just says "Thought I had a chance with a cute guy bit turns out he wasn't ready for something" and Josh gets it. He's been there, it sucks sometimes and he just offers his friend a shoulder to lean.

Another two weeks pass and when they meet up again Tommy is smiling. Like his nose scrunch smile which he only does when he is really smitten and Josh has truly only seen it once. So he immediately goes into questioning mood but Tommy just laughs and says "You know that cute guy? I think he is ready" but he won't elaborate further. And Josh is trying but Tommy just keeps giving vague answers and wow, Josh truly has never seen Tommy like this and feels a swell of happiness because whoever has his friend smiling like that better be good and worth it.

Josh also coincidentally has a meet up with the Buckley-Han family (they are already married to him basically) and he notices how Buck is glancing at his phone a lot and having this goofy smile and wow. He makes a joke about Buck having found a new girlfriend and Buck sort of freezes and now Josh feels bad but then he smiles such a soft smile it kind of hits him in the chest when he says "I am seeing someone and I am really happy." Cut to Chim wanting to probe but Buck not bugging and Josh just feeling happy for his friend. Maddie suddenly turns and ask "Did you want to bring them to the wedding?" and Buck kind of sheepishly replies "I already invited them." And Maddie softly chuckles talking about how gone her brother is and Josh is suddenly aware that Buck is using only they/them which isn't weird but it's not how Buck usually talks.

And Chim pipes up and says "With how much time you have been spending talking complaining about Tommy before, I have no idea where you suddenly got a date" and OMG.

Buck flushes a bit, Maddie laughs and Josh slaps a hand over his mouth to stop a giggle coming out.

Buck notices of course he does and when they are done later he pulls Josh aside and wants to talk but Josh just throws himself at Buck, hugging him.

"If you break his heart as his friend I have to hurt you. But as your friend, I couldn't be more happier for you" to which Buck kind of melts, chuckles and returns the hug.

On the way home, after some more heartfelt words because he knows how difficult and hard this can be, Josh stops the car at Tommy's flat, knocks up a storm and pushes past Tommy only to explode in the hallway as soon as the door is closed.

"YOU ARE DATING EVAN BUCKLEY AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME!"

And Tommy is a bit flabbergasted and laughs to which Josh kind of gets upset and says "I love you, I am fully in support of your relationship, I couldn't be happier, he is a catch but damn, are you telling me I could have had a chance?"

Which just causes a ridiculous laughing and giggling fit between two grown ass adults that Josh and Tommy will be happy to deny ever happened.

[vdlest]

Home Sweet Home

Characters:

Eddie Diaz x Female!Reader

Summary:

The reader and Eddie are living in together with Christopher. You just got home and saw Eddie sleeping in the couch, waiting for you.

Nothing but fluff and sweet conversations

A/N:

I haven’t written anything in a while. Let’s see if I still have it lol!

It’s been a long day for you.

You finished a lot of works today and all you wanted is to crash into the bed and have the best sleep you can get before another long day tomorrow.

You went inside the house and upon opening the light, you saw Eddie lying on the couch, peacefully sleeping.

A smile immediately formed in your lips.

You put down your keys and your bag by the rocking chair and you approached your sleeping boyfriend.

It’s been 2 years since you two met.

There was a huge fire that took place in the hotel you used to work at. You got trapped in one of the guest's rooms because you were trying to rescue one of the guests too. Good thing the firefighters from 118 came to rescue you, and it was Eddie who saved you when you were almost hit by a falling debris.

You owe your life to Eddie.

If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be where you are today.

A few days after the fire, he checked up on you to see you're okay and that you're not experiencing any trauma. Then he went back again after a week, not to just check on you but to get your number. Since the day he got your number, the two of you are constantly exchanging messages.

Until one day, he finally asked you out, and the rest was history.

"Hey," you gently caressed his cheeks to wake him up.

His eyes slowly flicker and when he saw you, he got up and sat down on the couch, "I fell asleep while I was waiting for you."

You sat down beside him, "Yeah, I noticed that."

"You worked pretty late today," he said as he stretched his arms.

"We had a lot of issues today with our upcoming group, so I had to stay and negotiate with them. Good thing I'm finally home," you answered.

He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you as warm as he could make you feel, "Yeah, you're home. Chris was actually waiting for you too, but I guess he fell asleep." You felt Eddie kissed your head, "I guess I'm not the only one who misses you."

"Aww, I miss you and Chris too,” you answered as you rest your hand on top of his chest.

This is what made you so excited to come home — to feel secured and happy in the arms of your boyfriend. Ever since you two moved in together, you stopped experiencing nightmares that you’ve been experiencing since you were a kid. And every single time you wake up in the morning, your heart is filled with so much love just by seeing Eddie and Chris.

“By the way,” Eddie faces you but his arms are still wrapped around you, “It’s my off this weekend. I’m planning to take you and Christopher out.”

“That sounds like a nice plan to me,” you answered with a smile on your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go out with us? I’m worried you might have to work this weekend, given the circumstances you’re dealing with right now,” he said.

You cupped his right cheeks and assured him that it’s totally okay, “I’m off this weekend too anyways. Plus, I’ve been wanting to go out with you and Chris. I can’t even remember the last time we went out, just the three of us.”

“How ‘bout on Monday?”

“On Monday?” your brows furrowed in confusion, “Chris has school, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m talking about just the two of us,” he said. “I mean, the three of us are already going out this weekend, so I’m wondering if we can have Monday just for the two of us. Like, after we drop Christopher off his school, we can go somewhere, then we’ll pick him up in the afternoon afterwards.”

“I mean, I can take a day off on Monday too, but are you sure you want to go out on Monday? Just the two of us?” you asked.

He grabbed your hand and smiles at you, “Why not? It’s only fair to have some quality time for both of us, right?”

In all honesty, you are excited for some quality time with Eddie.

It’s been a long time since the two of you dated, because the two of you will always think of Christopher first. After all, you promised to each other that Christopher will be part and the top priority of your relationship.

“Sure,” you replied. “So where are you taking me?”

He winked at you, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“God, you are so full of surprises!” you commented.

Your relationship with Eddie has been both a blessing and a gift. He’s been there with you, through the ups and downs of your life, through thick and thin, through turns and twists. It was like he completed the real meaning of “love” in your life. And there’s no other person you would rather take the risk of falling in love than him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he suddenly asked you, not knowing that you’ve been staring at him.

You shook your head as you fix his hair and gave him a smile.

Well, you know your boyfriend too well. He’s not gonna take that as an answer, “Come on, tell me.”

“I just realized how damn lucky I am,” you confessed and you felt his hands on top of yours, “All my life I’ve been looking for someone who could finally understand me, who could love me and teach me to love myself even better. I’m so glad I finally found you.”

“No,” he kissed the back of your hand and gave you a reassuring smile, “I found my way to you. Right from the moment I saved you, my heart already knew you weren’t just a stranger that I needed to save. I had a hard time forgetting you, so I stopped trying to forget you instead, I accepted the truth that you are someone I won’t be forgetting.”

“I know I’m hard to forget,” you joked.

Eddie chuckles, “I have no plans of forgetting you,” he extended his arms around you and pulled you towards his chest, “You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“I have no plans of resisting,” you answered.

[diazsdimples]

bucktommy + coffee shop au

Ngl I had to google what these were cause I've never read one. Anyways!

Buck works as a barista in a small coffeeshop not far from the 118. Tommy stops in before his shifts and usually orders the most boring long black (americano but stronger) that he can. He's initially a little withdrawn, not reciprocating Buck's blatantly obvious flirting, but Buck is determined to crack him.

After a few months of chatting (generally one sided but Buck doesn't care), Tommy begins to be a little more open with him. Buck learns his boss is a bit of a dickhead and he doesn't want him to know about his sexuality, so he usually keeps his head down when he's this close to work. Buck understands and dials back on the flirting, instead turning his attention to finding Tommy a different type of coffee with "more flavour and not just dark like Tommy's soul" (Buck's words)

Every time Tommy comes into the cafe, Buck makes him his coffee, but he also makes a smaller option, of whatever flavour is most popular that week. He gets creative too, mixing in different pumps of syrup, adding some spices, but also sticking to the favourites like pumpkin spice lates, peppermint mochas and the like. Tommy declares all of them far too sweet, but Buck can see from the twinkle in his eye that he's secretly enjoying it.

One day Tommy comes in with another couple of men, and Buck can instantly see a change in him. They're all wearing firefighter's uniforms and when Buck catches Tommy's eye, the guy shakes his head imperceptibly. Getting the hint, Buck acts as though he's never met Tommy before, being perfectly cordial to him and the other men. One of them is much older and has terrible manners, and Buck assumes this is the dickhead boss. In a spur of the moment decision, Buck writes his number on the bottom of Tommy's cup, with a short message saying "if you need to talk". He taps it as he hands the cup to Tommy, hoping he understands.

It isn't for a couple of days that Tommy calls. He hasn't come to the store before then and Buck is starting to get worried. Tommy asks if Buck would be willing to meet somewhere and chat for a bit. Buck readily agrees, and he and Tommy (ironically) meet for a coffee, where Buck judges the way Tommy's coffee is made and reckons he could do it better. Tommy tells Buck that after the other day, his boss was fired and it was like a huge weight was lifted off his chest. He feels more comfortable being himself around his coworkers, and says he's liked Buck for a while now and would really like it if they could go on a few proper dates together. Buck, who hasn't been at all subtle about his crush on Tommy, readily agrees and their relationship begins.

Send me a ship and an AU!

[lyjen]

Ask for help

Evan Buckley x Sister reader

A request by: @shauna-carsley - the request

Summary: As (y/n) and her fiancé get hit by a drunk driver, she loses the love of her life. Her family and best friend are trying to help her whenever and where they possibly can. Until she shuts them out.

Next Chapter >> | 9-1-1 masterlist

______

“I’m so glad we get to do this again. I’ve missed you.” (Y/n) spoke as she braked for the light that jumped on red. She looked at her fiancé, who was sitting in the passenger seat and was smiling at her words.

“I’ve missed you too babe. It’s been a while since we’ve had a date night.” Jay said as he put down his hand onto her upper thigh.

Jay and (y/n) have been together since high school, junior year to be exact. They’ve reached their seventh year of being together. And in these seven years, a lot has happened. From Jay deciding to join the Navy seals, to a proposal from Jay before he went on his latest mission.

Meanwhile (y/n) chose to join the fire department and become a paramedic. He serves the country, while (y/n) serves the city.

Jay had just returned from his latest mission. And since their irregular schedules, they made an arrangement to have a date night every two weeks, well.. if Jay was not on a mission.

(Y/n) was driving through the LA streets, on their way to the restaurant they had chosen. She was so excited to be with her fiancé again. It has been six months since Jay went on his mission, he was lucky that it was only for six months. Worst case scenario, he would’ve been gone for twelve months. Which actually has happened once or twice, so (Y/n) was used to being without him now and then. Of course they texted, every single day. And when he had time, they would Facetime. There were so many stories to tell..

Laughs and smiles were sounding through the car, it felt good to have him back beside her.. It felt like he had never left.

“What the fuck..” (Y/n) mumbled under her breath as she was driving, and saw a car which was driving in the opposite direction, violently swerving to the left and making a sharp turn to the right on the other lane. This guy was driving like an imbecile. As if he had gotten his driver's license free with a box of cereal.

When suddenly the car on the lane next to her bumps into the side of her car. (Y/n) tries to keep her car under control as she starts steering the wheel like a mad person. But she couldn’t keep the car steady enough.

And the car sends them crashing into a tree. Her ears were ringing, and her vision was blurry. Her head was pounding, it felt like it was about to pop off of her head. “Fuck” she mumbled as she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to get rid of the headache and the blurry vision in her eyes. She let her right hand tighten on her left shoulder, which was hurting like a bitch. That was definitely a dislocated shoulder.

“Jay?” she says as she shook his shoulder, to try and get any reaction out of him.

“Jay! Baby please wake up!” she cries, as she gives him a push, but Jay’s unconscious body doesn't seem to move. Only the push she gave him got his head flopping down to his chest.

With a trembling hand, she reached out to her phone which was on the phone holder. Her hands were shaking so much, she almost wasn’t able to unlock her phone and press the numbers to call 9-1-1.

“T-..this is firefighter (Y/n) B-..buckley, station 118.. I..- I.. c- crashed my c-..car” she stumbled through the phone. “Can you see where you are ma’am?” The woman on the phone asks. “R-..rose.. Avenue”

“Hey.. have you heard anything from (Y/n) about Jay?” Evan asks Eddie as he puts on his turnout coat and steps into his turnout pants.

Eddie was (Y/n)’s best friend and they shared everything with each other. If Eddie and (Y/n) weren’t together, they would be texting each other. It was like they were glued to one another.

“Nope, haven’t heard from her. The only thing I know is that she went picking him up at the airport this morning.” Eddie answered as he stepped into the truck and put on his headphones with Buck following close behind him.

When the truck came to a stop on scene, adrenaline was streaming through Evan’s veins. He could see the windshield was broken into a thousand, maybe a million small pieces. And the front was sandwiched for a small part, with smoke coming from the engine.

But when Evan came closer to the car, his stomach turned and filled itself with anxiety when he realised the car which crashed into the tree looked suspiciously much like his little sister's car. He bit his lower lip as he approached the car with Eddie walking next to him.

Please don’t let it be (Y/n).

Don’t let it be his baby sister, and Eddie’s best friend.

But when his eyes fell onto the license plate, Evan knew enough and stopped Eddie in his tracks. “(y/n)” Evan spoke, as he pointed at the car. Eddie frowned at the random name drop of his best friend. “What?” Eddie asks, confused as he feels Evan’s hand still pressing on his chest. “The license plate... It’s (Y/n)’s car Eddie!” Evan said as he was still trying to process what was happening right in front of his eyes.

Eddie’s eyes shot towards the license plate. But as soon as he realised Buck was right they both started sprinting towards the car. “Fuck! (Y/n)!” Eddie’s voice screamed.

Sobs came out of (y/n)’s mouth as she grabbed at her left shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey! Oh my god, (y/n)..” Evan panted as he opened the driver's door and his eyes fell on his little sister. Her body was fully covered in bruises and cuts.

Meanwhile Hen and Chimney were working on Jay, trying to get his vitals and started to get him out of the car.

“Buck” she cries out as she hears his voice talking. “Yeah I’m here sis.. Let’s get you prepared to get out of this car, okay?” He tried to remain calm. Nothing hurts more than seeing your own sibling in distress.

Eddie gets in the back of the car, he puts the neck collar around her neck and secures it. “Jay..” she cried as she could see her boyfriend carefully getting lifted out of the car on a backboard. ”Is he okay?” she asked while a colleague handed her brother a backboard. Evan looked at Eddie with a concerned look in his eyes. “Buck?” she tried to get his attention. Evan didn’t know what to say. Eddie put a hand on (y/n)’s shoulder, “Let's just focus on you right now.” and he stepped out of the backseat from the car.

When put down the backboard they were lifting onto the gurney. (y/n) pulled at Eddie’s jacket. She felt like she was a kid wanting to ask her dad something. Eddie turned around looking at his best friend lying down on the gurney. He’d rather see her standing next to the gurney, helping people.

“Put my shoulder back in.” she demanded.

“(y/n)...” Eddie sighed. She tightened her grip on his jacket, and pulled him closer to her with all of her strength she had in her right arm. A dark look washed over her face, and her lips went into a thin line. “Put it back in damn’ it!” she spoke.

Eddie looked over at Evan, who was shaking his head lightly.

He sighed once more. He wanted to tell her to wait until she was in the hospital, that doctors would pop it back in its place. But he knew trying to go against it wouldn’t help. She would have that shoulder popped back in right now, one way or another. She didn’t care how much pain she would receive.

Her breathing starts to fasten as Eddie grabs her arm with both of his hands. He slowly extended the injured arm out to the side, raising the arm gently and bending the elbow so that the palm of her hands touched the top of her head.

She squeezed her eyes at the radiating pain that shot from her shoulder through her arm. (Y/n) took a deep breath as Eddie slowly moved her hand down towards the nape of her neck.

When he moved her hand to the opposite shoulder, (y/n) could feel the shoulder pop back in its place together with a flood of pain. She screamed all of the air out of her lungs as she felt the sharp pain leading from her shoulder all the way down to her hand.

Evan closed his eyes as he heard the scream of his little sister. He could feel it entering and leaving his body. Her scream went through marrow and bone. It sounded like she was being tortured.

Eddie carefully folded her arm back down over her abdomen in a ninety degree position. He couldn’t give her a sling, not when she was lying down on the stretcher with a collar around her neck.

“Is he okay?” (y/n) asked her brother when they wheeled her into the ambulance. Evan was so focussed on his sister, that he actually forgot about him. He didn’t know the status of her boyfriend. The ambulance with Jay in it had already left while they tried to pop (y/n)’s shoulder back in. “I am sure he is fine sis..” and gave her a slight smile.

________

“Thank god” Maddie’s voice sounded through her eardrums as (y/n) opened her eyes. She rolled her head to her left, and her eyes connected with her sister standing up from a chair which was next to her bed. Maddie gave her sister's hand a soft squeeze when a tear left the corner of her eye. “Welcome back” Evan said while he laid a hand on the shoulder of his older sister, trying to give her some comfort.

“Where’s Jay?” is the first thing (Y/n) asks as she looks over at her brother and sister who are now both standing at the side of her bed.

Evan looks at Maddie, as if they could communicate by only looking at each other. A sigh left Evan’s mouth and scratched the back of his neck, which was a habit of him when he was nervous.

He couldn’t tell her. It broke his heart into a million tiny pieces only to see her like this. What would happen to her, or to himself when he would tell her the truth?

“Jay.. uhm..” he started, as he sat down on the edge of the hospital bed (y/n) was lying in. He placed his hand on her lower leg, which was covered by the blanket. “He didn’t make it.” he continued, with a trembling voice. He knew how much his sister loved her boyfriend, they were soulmates.

“W-what?” she stumbled as her eyebrows narrowed. “He died on scene (y/n).. I swear, we tried everything we could to get him back. But it was too late.” Evan tried to explain.

Her heart started pounding in her chest and the voice of her brother seemed to fade as she heard those four words. She shakes her head. “No.”

(y/n)’s breathing became more rapid by the second, it feels like she can’t take a proper breath. Tears start streaming down her cheeks. “Is this some kind of sick joke? Please.. tell me this is one of your sick jokes.” she cries as her eyes shoot at Maddie and back to Evan.

Maddie shook her head and bit her lower lip, trying to stay strong for her little sister. While Evan bit on the inside of his cheek.

(y/n) squeezed her eyes closed to try and collect herself. “It’s all my fault..”

Maddie’s free hand went up to (y/n)’s upper arm and she let it rub up and down over her arm. “No. Don’t say that.” Maddie spoke up. “I was the one driving. Of course I am the cause! I was the one who drove us into a fucking tree!” (y/n) spoke through her tears.

“No. Some drunk ass driver bumped into the side of your car and didn’t give you a choice.” Evan said as he stood up from the end of the bed.

(y/n) turned her head towards the side of the room, and just stared at it for a minute. “How did he die?” she asked softly.

When she didn’t receive an answer after a few counts, she looked at her brother. “Tell me the truth.. How did he die?” she asks again. Evan took a deep breath, there was nowhere to hide, and his little sister wanted answers. And she knew Evan had the answers to her questions.

“Internal bleedings” he answered eventually.

She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if she had to. (y/n) sighed, wiped the tears from underneath her eyes and put the palm of her hand against her temple. “I wish we never got in that car.” she mumbled at herself.

“(Y/n)..” her brother’s voice sounded through the room. “Don't try and talk this right Evan.” She said quietly. “You-“ Evan’s wanted to comfort her, but he gets cut off by his sister’s voice.

“Get out.” She hissed.

Evan’s eyes wandered from (y/n) to Maddie who was on his right. He knows his sister was high in her emotions at the moment. She had just lost the most important person in her life. Evan and Maddie were quiet, silently communicating with each other, not knowing whether they needed to give her space, or to stay.

“Didn’t you hear me?! Get the fuck out!” She yelled at her brother and sister, who flinched at her reaction. They didn’t say anything and left the room. As soon as (y/n) heard the door close, tears fell down. She wanted to tear down the room with her bare hands, the only problem was: her leg was in a cast. So the only thing within hand reach was the table on wheels next to the bed.

She grabbed the top of the table, and gave it a hard push. The table hit the wall as a scream sounded through the room. He was really gone. Her finance. The man she wanted to spend her life with. The love of her life, ripped out of her life just with a snap of a finger..

After one week, she got released from the hospital. Evan picked her up and drove her home, even though she screamed at him to get out, he still showed up every single day during visitor hour or when they had to bring a patient in. He understood. She was mourning. And he would let her, even if she would scream at him or fight him. He would be there for his little sister.

When (y/n) got home, every single thing was just another reminder of Jay. A reminder of the accident, of what she lost. (y/n) couldn’t even attend his funeral because she was in the hospital, another thing they took from her. She couldn’t even say goodbye.

After a few weeks, she chose to move out to another apartment, she couldn’t live in her own home. Not when everything reminded her of him. So she went apartment hunting, even while she was walking on crutches.

A moving company helped her with moving into this new apartment, they also packed for her. But in the contract it was noticed they wouldn’t unpack. By the time she moved, she didn’t have a cast anymore, and didn’t have to walk around on crutches. So (y/n) tried to unpack what she could. It was such a mess inside of her head, that she had to call reinforcements.

Evan was in the bedroom, trying to rebuild (y/n)’s bed, which the movers took apart. Meanwhile Maddie and (y/n) were in the living room, going through box after box. “This box doesn’t have a label” Maddie opens the box, a confused look spread all over (y/n)’s face. Maddie takes out a necklace which was right at the top of the box.

This was one of the boxes she didn’t want to open or see, ever again.

As soon as (y/n) realises which box Maddie was going through, she stopped and stared at the spare dog tag which was dangling through her sister's hands. She bit her lower lip and she simply continued taking out the plates out of the box. When she takes a plate out of the box, wanting to stack them on the other ones next to her on the table, the plate slips out of her hand falling to the ground into a hundred pieces.

“Fuck!” (y/n) yelled as soon as she realised what she had done. Her elbows were leaning on her thighs, as she let her face fall into her palms. She tried to remain calm as tears streamed over her cheeks, and soft sobs came out of her mouth. “Hey, it’s okay.. We can clean this up.” Maddie says as she kneeled next to her little sister, trying to comfort her by rubbing her upper arm.

“No..” she whispers, “None of this is okay!” she raised her voice. “Calm down, it was just a plate. We can replace that.” Maddie tries to calm her down. “While you’re at it, can you also replace my fiance with it?” she shot back at her sister.

“Wow, what’s going on?” Evan’s voice sounded as he walked into the room.

“And you... “ (Y/n) stood up from her chair and started walking towards him and pointing at Evan. “You told me he was fine. When you rolled me into that ambulance.” she cries, while a waterfall of tears fell over her cheeks.

“(y/n)..” Evan saw a fire in his sister's eyes which he had never seen before. “You knew he didn’t make it. And you lied to me about it.” She continued as she pushed both of her hands into his chest. Evan was confused, one second he was just putting her bed frame together and now his sister was screaming, crying and fighting him.

“That was for your own good.” Evan shot back at (y/n). “You. Should’ve told me.” She wanted to shove Evan one more time, but before she could do that Evan grabbed her wrists. “No. You know why I didn't tell you?” Evan started. “Because I can’t stand seeing you like this! Look at you. You’re a mess!” He said as he looked her over. She wriggled herself loose from his touch. He was still holding her wrists.

“How could I not be a mess?! I'm the one who killed him, Evan!” she turned her back towards him, and dragged her fingers through her hair as more tears started to roll down her face.

Evan went silent, he knew she was still mourning. It seemed like she completely forgot that the car crash was caused because of some drunk moron, and started to blame herself for trying to keep them safe. Maddie wanted to pitch in, try and calm down the conversation. But before she could say something. (Y/n) spoke up, “Get out.”

She was kicking them out again. Just like she did in the hospital room. She wasn’t facing him or Maddie. She was just looking outside of her window. “Please. Get out.”

_____

“Hey this is (y/n)…say somethi-“ Eddie groans at the voicemail which is ringing through his right eardrum. He clicks on the red button to end the conversation and tosses his phone into his duffle bag.

Why was his best friend ignoring him? He didn’t do anything wrong, did he? Every single day he checked in on (y/n), just to ask how she was doing, if he could do anything for her or maybe just listen to her ranting about how life’s unfair.

But she hasn’t replied to any of his texts for days, and she wasn’t picking up her phone either.

“Someone seems frustrated..” Evan spoke as he entered the locker room in his uniform, unbuttoning his shirt while he walked to his locker.

They were getting ready to leave. Their shift was over, Eddie could’ve been home already but instead, he’s in the locker room being concerned about his best friend.

“Your sister isn’t picking up her phone. I’ve tried calling her at least ten times today, but it goes straight to voicemail.” Eddie said, concerned while he put on his jacket. “Have you spoken to her?” Eddie asks Evan.

Evan shook his head, “I haven’t, I already asked around, no one has heard from her.” He grabs his duffle bag out of his locker and places it on the bench behind him.

When the 118 was in the neighbourhood, they went and tried to see how she was doing. But when they rang the doorbell multiple times, she didn’t answer.

“It seems like every conversation I’ve had with my sister turns into a fight. At this moment, I’m not sure if she’s really mad at me, the team or herself.” Evan shrugged off his shirt and threw it in his bag.

“I know she’s still mourning, processing her loss.. but it’s like I’m not talking to the same (y/n) anymore, you know? She needs help, but I don’t know what to do.. not when she won’t talk to me.”

Eddie nodded, it wasn’t like (y/n) to ignore her brother, or her best friend. She was always the one who couldn’t leave people on read on texts, because she would feel guilty. Eddie closes his locker “Hey, you got a spare key to her new home?”

“Yeah, why?” Evan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Eddie. “Well.. if she won’t open the door, I don’t have to kick it in.” Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line.

(Y/n) is lying in her bed, with a hoodie on and the hood resting on her head. Her covers were over her body. She was staring into the depth of her bedroom.

With every breath she took, she could hear his voice playing in the back of her mind. The car crash scene keeps playing on loop and she doesn’t know how to turn it off.

It was like she was stuck in her own mind. As if she wasn’t alive.

“Time to get up!” Eddie says as he grabs a handful of her covers.

A groan tumbled past (y/n)’s lips, but she didn’t bother to put the covers back over her body again. She continued staring into the depth of the room.

She was wearing an oversized hoodie, and her kitchen counter was fully overloaded with empty take out boxes and dirty dishes.

Since the fight (y/n) had with Evan and Maddie, but mostly Evan. She hasn’t spoken to them in days. She didn’t continue unpacking after that, everything was just precisely as they had left. She tried to avoid the living room at all costs, if she would even make it past the bedroom door. Jay’s stuff was still in there, the box was open, just how Maddie had left it.

Eddie took place on her bed, sitting on the side. “(Y/n).. Are you okay?”

He knew it was a stupid question to ask. Of course she wasn’t okay, but he wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to tell him, she wasn’t okay.

“We didn’t have enough time.” she said barely above a whisper.

Eddie sighed as he heard her stumble those exact words. He placed his hand on her ankle, and rubbed his thumb on her ankle. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

He stood up, grabbed both her hands and pulled her towards him. “Why are you here Eds?” she asked him.

“Well, since you decided to ignore everyone who has been messaging and calling you, I decided to take matters into my own hands.” He explained.

(Y/n) let out a cry and let herself drop into the mattress and pillow again. But Eddie pulls her up again.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” She raises her voice as she pushes Eddie's hands away from her.

“Okay fine.” Eddie starts, putting both of his hands in the air as a sign that he didn’t do anything wrong. “Push me away, like you did with the team, with your own siblings. Punch me, I don’t care. You can tell me to fuck off. But I’m staying right here, whether you want it or not.”

(Y/n) just sighs, completely annoyed with Eddie’s words. She knew he wouldn’t leave. He would stay there until he knew what was up.

“Really. Who’s it that you’re mad at right now? Are you mad at Jay for dying? Are you mad at the team because we couldn’t save him? Are you mad at Buck and Maddie because they tried to help you? Talk to me.”

Her hands were in her hair now, grabbing large pieces. It was one of her nervous habits, playing with her hair, or this.

“No it's not you that I’m mad at!” she snapped, as her hands left her scalp, she probably pulled some hair strands out.

“It’s me! Okay! It’s me who I am really mad about! I could’ve prevented all of this!” She yelled as her voice turned heavy and tears started rolling down her face against

She always cries when she’s mad, it was something she couldn’t stop.

“It was an awful, unlucky accident. Some drunk guy drove into the side of your car and you lost control over the wheel. You really think that if you steered another inch to the other side it would’ve made a difference? No. If you did that, it would’ve probably been worse.” Eddie spoke up.

(Y/n) went silent. She had nothing to say. Just for a few moments, the room which was just filled with loud voices, was now completely quiet. Eddie sat back down on the bed, while (y/n) crossed her legs.

“When you pushed us away, we let you. But we’ve given you days, weeks, even months to process this. But this is where I draw the line. I can’t handle seeing you falling into a deeper hole than you already are.” Eddie let his elbows rest on his knees.

“And don’t tell me that I don’t know how you feel. Because I do. I also lost someone I loved, and I don’t want to lose you too.” (Y/n) could tell Eddie was trying to keep himself together.

“How am I supposed to go on with my life, while a part of me died on scene with Jay?” She cries as she wipes the tears off her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie.

Eddie pushed himself closer towards her, as he could hear her breathing starting to fasten. It almost looked like she was having a panic attack.

“Hey! Hey! I’m right here. Okay?” Eddie gently took her hand and placed it on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

“Breathe with me now, okay? Slow, deep breaths” (y/n) tries to copy him through her sobs.

“Good, good, you’re okay.”

“Help.. I need help Eddie.” She cries and pushes herself against Eddie, burying her face into the crook of his neck. As a wet spot was being created on his shoulder.

That was his advice. Ask for help.

[kinardsevan]

wip Thursday

tagged by the effervescent @perfectlysunny02, and in the same vein as them, don't I have a million WIPs? Yes, yes I do. But also, I mentioned this idea last week. And... well... oops? (And it's entirely their fault because of the violence they chose with THEIR teaser today.)

Alas, I give you unnecessary, momentary, legendary (working title)

-

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be here. That’s all he could think about; he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

He’d had a full day of plans while Evan was on shift. He was supposed to stop by Harbor and pick up a package he’d had shipped there and forgot to bring home the night before. He was supposed to have lunch with Howie and Jee-Yun. He was supposed to swing by the 118 and swap keys with Evan because something was going on with the Rubicon’s engine. He was supposed to spend the afternoon figuring out if it was going to be an easy fix or not. Evan would be home before sunset. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Except, Evan was back at work after being down with a nasty virus for the past few days, and the only thing that had really been helping him feel better was the honey citrus tea from their favorite café. It wasn’t even a drink that his boyfriend cared for that much, but Tommy had introduced it to him the first time he’d gotten sick a few months into their relationship, and it had been a game changer for him. It wasn’t a cure by any means, but it definitely helped. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

“Natalie?” He croaks out her name, leaning half up off of the tile floor, hand pressed into his abdomen next to his hip. He can’t see her behind the glass casing that contains the pastries, and she hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. The higher he tries to sit himself up, the more pain shoots down his side. “Nat!?” 

It takes more than a few seconds, but eventually—too long—he hears the sound of what he assumes is broken glass shifting on the floor. A small whimper. 

“T-Tommy?” 

“Nat?” He calls back, turning his head towards the back of the counter again. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

She doesn’t respond, but then he sees the familiar flurry of jello-red hair appear from behind the pastry case, and then she’s climbing over the counter, her combat boots crunching glass on the floor as she moves towards him. Tommy looks up at her, his paramedic skills immediately kicking in as he takes her in. 

She’s got a cut on her forehead and her hands are bleeding—he assumes from all the broken glass. There’s a slash across her forearm where the knife got her, bleeding pretty decently. His eyes trail down to the side of her apron, the stain spreading across it and her jeans. She’s bleeding from somewhere on her leg. His gaze drifts to the counter and the streak of blood coming across it where she crawled over. 

“N-Nat, we gotta call the cops,” he tells her warily. 

“What if he comes back,” she asks anxiously, her voice shaking as tears come down her face. She sinks to the ground next to him, ignorant of the glass on the ground around him. 

Tommy shakes his head at her, digging into his pocket with blood-coated fingers, fumbling his phone when his fingers come into contact with it. He pulls it out as he looks back up at her. 

“You gave him everything, right,” he asks her. “Didn’t fight?” 

“No,” she sobs, leaning over him. “God, Tommy, I’m so sorry.” 

He shakes his head at her, reaching for one of the napkin holders knocked onto the floor nearby. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he tells her. He keeps flashing hot and cold, and he can feel himself getting clammy. He tries to focus his attention on his phone, dialing the number into it. 

“Tommy, you’re bleeding,” she cries. 

“I’m fi-…fine,” he stammers, slumping back against the floor. “We’re fine.” 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” 

“5943 Ventura Boulevard,” he rattles off. “This is off-duty Rescue 1701 out of Harbor Station, I need to be transferred to Maddie Buckley.” 

“Just a moment sir.” The line clicks off for all of ten seconds, and then clicks back on. 

“9-1-1, this is Maddie Buckley speaking,” her voice comes back. There’s just the slightest hitch of anxiety in her voice, like she knows being routed to personally isn’t normal. 

“Maddie,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to get the tears out of them. 

“Tommy,” she replies, her voice suddenly flooded with panic. “What’s going on? Is Evan- a-are you- is Howie-…” 

“They’re fine,” he chokes out. “B-but, I need RA and police. S-Stabbing at the café.” 

His head drops back against the floor, and he can feel his vision getting fuzzy. He looks over at Natalie. She looks even more panicked than she did before. His gaze drifts down to where his other hand is. Blood is completely coated over his fingers. 

“N-Nat, I need you to use your apron to apply pressure,” he rasps. 

“Stabbing?! Tommy where are you,” Maddie cries from the other end of the line. Tommy rattles the address off to her again. 

“D-dont send Evan,” he rasps at her. “God, he can’t find me. You hear me, Maddie? Don’t send him. Do not let him see me like this.” 

She hiccups a cry on the other end of the line, and there are hushed voices clearly trying to get her off the line, but she speaks clearly enough that Tommy hears when she growls ‘no’ back at whoever is trying to get her to hand the call off. 

“You know I love him, right,” he continues. Natalie presses her apron into his side then and he can’t help the cry that falls out of his mouth. “F-fuck. M-Maddie?” 

“I know,” she cries. “Stay with me, Tommy. Don’t hang up on me.” 

He nods letting his head rest back against the floor. 

“No, come on, Tommy,” Natalie cries, pressing harder into his wounds. “Come on. Stay awake.” 

“Trying,” he murmurs, looking around the floor. “I-I, I want to marry him, you know,” he tells Maddie. “He just walked into my life like- like he was always supposed to be here. And I thought I’d lost out on my chance by taking too long to figure my shit out. Fuck, Nat. Yeah, that’s good, keep pushing down.” 

“He talks about you being it for him all the time,” Maddie replies. He can tell she’s crying. “Keeps telling me that he thinks you’ll be a great dad.” 

Tommy lets out a small laugh and then groans at the wave of pain that shoots across his abdomen and stomach. 

“I wasn’t sure, before him,” he replies, letting his eyes slip shut. The phone starts to sag in his hand, but the cry of Natalie’s voice and sudden, sharp pressure on his side has his eyes shooting open again. “Fuck, okay. Okay.” He swallows hard, taking a breath. “B-but if anyone could convince me that we could do it together, it’s him.” 

Maddie hiccups another sob. “I’ve watched him lose one relationship after another, think what he’s holding onto is the right one while knowing it isn’t. But I never said anything because I was just his sister, you know? And I know you said he walked into your life, but you spun into his with a literal hurricane and I’ve never seen him… I don’t even know, Tommy. This settled? Happy? Secure?” 

“H-he deserves it,” Tommy rasps, his head lolling back and eyes getting heavier. 

“Damn it, Tommy, come on,” Natalie cries. “Stay awake, please.” 

“s’getting harder,” Tommy slurs. “Maddie, I love him. So much more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Want him more, dream about him more, choose him more. My life begins and ends at Evan Buckley.” The tears swimming in his eyes finally slip down the side of his face, his vision tight now, and extremely hazy. 

“Tommy, stay with me,” Maddie cries. Her voice seems farther away now. “The ambulance is so close. Please?” 

“Tell him I love him more than anything else,” he replies, coughing out another groan. “That I choose him. Every day, all the time. I pick him.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes too heavy to open back up. “I love you, Evan.” 

[cjlouwho]

Carry the Burden

read on ao3 or below. 7.6k, tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse, emotional/psychological abuse, depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of vomiting, love, care, no major character death

Summary:

With Buck, Tommy was an open book... mostly. There was one particular, very important chapter that he kept closed. He didn't bring up his childhood. Didn't mention his parents much. That was a part of his life no one but he and his therapist needed to know about. But a surprise visit from his father changes all that, and sends Tommy spiraling down a path he'd fought so hard to shun away.

They were on the couch, Buck laid out with his head on the arm rest and legs sprawled over Tommy's lap. Tommy had his own legs crossed and stretched out on the coffee table. Buck barely registered Tommy's phone buzzing as he reached and pulled it out of his pocket.

“Hm. Dad's in town.”

Tommy had been so nonchalant with his words that Buck was pretty sure he heard him wrong.

“What?” He asked as Tommy laid the phone beside him.

“My dad's here, apparently.” He didn't even look away from the TV as he spoke, keeping his focus on the basketball game.

They'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour now, Tommy watching the game while Buck did a deep dive on the history of mummification. It wasn't his first time researching the subject, but it was always good to get a refresher.

“Are you... are you going to see him?” Buck asked.

Tommy was an open book with Buck, mostly. It helped that Buck was always more than willing to share stories from his own past.

Tommy would talk about how he was a chubby kid growing up and got made fun of a lot for it. How he took up wrestling in high school. How he joined the military at seventeen, mostly to show his classmates just how strong he was. He'd go into detail about the missions he completed in the army, and the way it impacted his life to this day. He didn't shy away from who he was when he first became a firefighter. How he followed along with Gerrard because it was the easy thing to do. He made no excuses for himself.

Tommy talked about part of him wanting to stay at the 118 once Bobby came, but his past loomed over him like a dark cloud and, even though Hen and Chimney forgave him long ago, every time he walked into the station he was reminded of who he was and not who he wanted to be.

He talked about his first few weeks in therapy. How he went through three therapists before he found one he liked. How hard it was to come to terms with so many aspects of his life.

He still went to therapy, once a week, always on a Tuesday. That was one of his regular days off, and Buck knew there would always be a couple hours of radio silence from him then.

There was one aspect of his life that Tommy never really discussed in detail.

His parents.

It wasn't that he never mentioned them. Buck knew that his dad was not a good man, and that his mom died when he was young, but that's all Tommy had ever really said.

The scoff Tommy let out at Buck's question told him all he needed to know. “No, I- I will not be seeing him.”

Buck pushed himself up into a sitting position, bending his knees close to his chest. “How'd you find out he was in town?”

Tommy didn't have siblings. Didn't really have any extended family. None he was in regular contact with anyway.

“He texted me,” Tommy answered simply.

“I didn't even know he had your number.”

“Oh, he has it,” Tommy managed to look over at Buck and give him a grin that didn't quite reach the eyes, “he just rarely uses it.”

“But he is now?”

“Apparently.” Tommy turned back to the game, but Buck reached over and squeezed his forearm, regaining his attention.

“Hey, Tommy, use your words. I've never heard you mention your dad calling or texting you, but he suddenly is now? Is there a reason?”

Tommy sighed. He reached for his phone, unlocking it before handing it over to Buck. “That's all it says. He's not a man of many words,” he said, before mumbling out, “or many good words, at least.”

Buck read over the text:

In town. Let's talk. Stuff to figure out.

He handed Tommy his phone. “Are you gonna answer him, at least?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, I am not.”

“Aren't you a little curious...”

Buck's voice trailed off as Tommy reached for Buck's hand, gently tugging Buck towards him. Buck maneuvered himself until he was curled into Tommy's side, his head resting just below Tommy's shoulder. Tommy wrapped his arm around Buck, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I appreciate the concern,” he spoke quietly, “but this,” he added, lifting his phone, “is not happening.”

Buck understood issues with parents. He'd told that to Tommy so many times before. He'd gone over his life story time and time again, and Tommy always listened with the utmost care and consideration. He always seemed so happy for Buck too. Happy that he was able to, for the most part, work things out with his parents. They may not be on the best terms, and they'd probably never be what others considered a “close” family, but they were better. And that was good enough.

Still, Buck could tell that Tommy was done with the conversation, so he let it go.

“How much longer until the game is over?” he asked, changing the topic for Tommy's sake.

Tommy let out a laugh, shaking Buck slightly. “About ten minutes.”

Buck closed his eyes, settling further into Tommy's side, “Wake me up when it's over.”

*****

They'd been together six months now, had exchanged keys a couple months in, but Buck still felt a thrill every time he walked into Tommy's place knowing Tommy wouldn't actually be there yet.

Something about it just felt so domestic. And Buck loved that feeling.

They'd already discussed moving in together. If they both had a night off, they were never apart, instead switching between each place depending on what errands they had planned for the next day.

Buck had another two months to go on his lease, so they decided to hold out on actually moving in together until then. There was no reason to deny him getting his security deposit back, or being forced to pay rent for an apartment he was no longer living in.

Still, Buck preferred Tommy's house. It was an older place, and not very big, but it had a nice garage for working out and a good kitchen that Buck enjoyed cooking in.

Which was why he came to Tommy's today. Tommy was working, but he'd be off by six, and Buck wanted to have a good dinner ready for him to come home to. Bobby had given him a recipe for something called Marry Me Chicken, and well, who was Buck kidding, that was the ultimate goal.

They would be the first to admit they were a bit unconventional. Besides swapping keys two months into their relationship, they had discussed whether or not children were in their future on date number four.

Tommy never really let go of the fact Buck invited him to his sister's wedding after one failed date.

They had sex on Buck's balcony before they had it in his bed.

They said I love you for the first time in month three, when Buck was deathly ill with a stomach bug and somehow got vomit in his hair. Tommy got him in the shower, letting Buck rest all of his body weight on him as he cleaned him up. Wrapped in Tommy's arms, head resting on his chest, eyes closed as water and soap flowed down his body, and the taste of throw up still on his tongue no matter how many times he brushed and used mouthwash, he uttered out an “I love you” to Tommy. He didn't even care if Tommy said it back, but Tommy did. He pressed a kiss to Buck's temple, dragging a wash cloth down his back, and said, “I love you too, Evan. So much.” That wasn't just the day Buck knew he loved Tommy, it was the day he knew he wanted to marry Tommy.

And, no, the chicken wasn't going to be a proposal. That wouldn't be happening until after they had officially lived together for a while- which had been a discussion during date number six.

But the name of the recipe, the words marry me, made Buck feel soft in a way that almost felt ridiculous, especially since it was literally just a recipe for chicken breast.

Buck had just placed the chicken in the oven when there was a knock on the door.

He rolled his eyes. Tommy often came home with his hands full, opting to carry most of his items separately instead of placing them in his duffel.

“One of these days I'm not gonna answer,” Buck called out as he neared the door, “just to teach you a le- Oh.”

The words died out on his tongue when he was met at the door by an older man that was very much not Tommy.

This man had thirty or so years on Buck, and was a few inches taller too. He was broad- really broad. Like Tommy, but on steroids.

“Uh, sorry, I- I thought you were someone else,” Buck began after he collected himself. “Can I help you?”

“Is this Thomas Kinard's place?” The man's voice was gruff. The kind of voice you get after smoking a pack a day for years on end.

“It is.”

“You're not him.”

“I'm not.”

“Where is he?”

Well, this conversation was going swimmingly!

“I- I'm sorry, who... are you?”

“Right,” the man held out his hand, although the scowl on his face remained. “Charles Kinard.”

Buck couldn't hide the surprise on his face after hearing the name. He shook Charles' hand, which held on a bit too tightly. “Oh! Oh, you're Tommy's dad.”

“'S'what it says on the birth certificate.”

Once Charles let go, Buck moved out of the way, allowing him to come inside. “Come in. Sorry, I was, um, not expecting anyone. I'm Evan Buckley, um, Buck, by the way. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” Charles noted as he walked farther into the house, eyes drifting around the place.

“Yeah, I- I know. Sor- uh, Tommy should be home pretty soon. He's been working. Was he... Did he know you were coming?”

He cringed at the question, knowing it was an odd thing to ask. He was still trying to catch up with what was going on. Tommy hadn't mentioned his father since three days ago, when he got the text he never answered. Maybe he had ended up answering and just never said anything to Buck, but that wasn't like Tommy.

“Not really,” Charles answered, finally turning to face Buck. “Who are you?” he asked, eying Buck up and down. Buck wasn't really sure if Charles was looking at him, or his apron, which he now remembered said, 'I like my meat rubbed, jerked, and pulled!'

Buck untied the apron and unceremoniously pulled it off of him, crumpling it up in his hand. He realized in that moment that he had no idea what Tommy's dad actually knew, or didn't know, about him. “I'm his friend,” he settled on, “from work.”

“You work together?”

Buck nodded. “Sort of. Different stations, but, yeah, um, yes we're both firefighters.”

“Mm.”

“Uh, why don't you have a seat,” Buck suggested, motioning toward the living room as he stepped closer to Charles. “Tommy won't be too much longer now.”

Charles moseyed into the living room, glancing around at the décor before taking a seat on the couch. “You come over and cook for your friend while he works?” Charles asked as Buck returned to the kitchen.

He wanted to text Tommy, or call him, and let him know what was happening, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't exactly talk about his dad while he was right in front of him, and Tommy wouldn't check a text when he was driving.

“I, uh, I like to cook,” Buck started, trying to think of an explanation that didn't sound too ridiculous. “And he's got a good kitchen, so I come over, um, sometimes to cook. I- I pay with food.” God, he was an idiot.

Another grunt like sound came from Charles, and Buck was about ninety percent sure he didn't buy it.

Buck wasn't sure how to communicate with the man. He was usually pretty good about stuff like this. He could make up random things to talk about with anyone, whether they wanted to hear it or not. But this was his boyfriend's father who didn't know for sure that Buck was Tommy's boyfriend, and all the questions that were coming to Buck's mind were only questions a significant other would ask their partner's parents.

“So, Mr. Kinard,” Buck began, beginning to slice a cucumber. He wasn't even planning on using a cucumber for anything tonight, but he needed something to do.

“Charles.”

“Charles, um, what... are you visiting LA?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good. That's... that's good. I'm sure Tommy will be happy to see you.”

Yet another grunt. This one almost sounded like a snort. Buck leaned over slightly to get a look at the man, who was staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the turned off TV in front of him.

“You should stay for dinner,” Buck suggested, hating himself as the words left his mouth. “There's gonna plenty.” That was true. He always made enough for leftovers.

“Okay.”

This truly was a man of few words.

Buck was just about to tell him he could turn on the TV and watch something when he heard the sound of keys jiggling in the doorknob.

The door opened before Buck could get to it.

“Oh my God, Evan, what smells so good? I could smell it from outside,” Tommy said, walking inside. Buck met him at the entryway.

“Just chicken. Um, Tommy-”

Tommy dropped his duffel at the door, “I even put my stuff in it this time,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabbed at Buck's shirt to pull him in for a kiss. Usually, Buck would've been thrilled. Told him it was about damn time and asked if he could take a picture to remember this moment forever.

Instead, he quickly pulled away from the kiss and unwrapped himself from Tommy's touch.

“We have a visitor, Tommy,” Buck said when he was met with a confused face. “You do, I mean.”

“I was wondering who's car was out front,” Tommy replied. “Figured the neighbors were having another party or something.”

“No, um, it's...” Buck's voice trailed off. He could tell Charles was somewhere behind him now. Could see that Tommy's eyes trailed from looking at him to looking at his father. Whatever was left of the smile on his face disappeared, his skin paling.

Part of Buck wished he could disappear. Just melt into the floor and turn into a puddle of goo.

The other part of him had the urge to stand between the two men forever, making sure Tommy was protected from whatever pain his father had obviously caused him.

Buck had never seen the look on Tommy's face before. It looked like fear and sadness, mixed with rage.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asked as Buck stepped to the side to get out of the way.

“Well, hello to you too, TJ.”

TJ? That was new.

“Don't call me that. What are you doing here? How'd you find my house?”

The problem with where Buck was standing, was that he couldn't move toward the kitchen without walking directly in front of the two men, and he wasn't sure this was a good moment to move.

“I'm not an idiot. You own the place, I looked it up. I texted you when I got to town.”

“I know you did.” Tommy shrugged off his jacket, dropping it on top of his duffel bag. “Thought you'd get the hint when I didn't answer.”

“You know how I am with subtleties.”

“Not answering a single one of your texts for three years is not exactly subtle, Dad.”

Buck could not do this any longer. He could feel Charles' eyes on him and, if he was going to be Tommy's friend, he couldn't exactly go into protective-boyfriend mode.

“I'm gonna,” he pointed toward the kitchen, “just go over there.”

Tommy waited for Buck to be out of the room before continuing. “You need to go,” he said, staring his father dead in the eyes.

“Hm. Thought you wanted to know what I was doing here?”

“Decided I don't care.”

Charles smiled. It didn't reach his eyes the way Tommy's did. There were no laughter lines, no scrunched up nose. Just a meaningless smile. “You're lookin' good, TJ. Lower BMI than the last time I saw you. That's good.”

Buck wasn't sure if he was hearing things correctly. Who says that to their kid after not seeing them for years?

“And you're looking me in the eyes. You always struggled with that before.”

“It's easier now that I'm too big for you to hit.”

Buck sucked in a breath. It was impossible to not overhear the conversation. With the open floor plan, Buck could still see Charles, although he didn't have a view of Tommy.

Charles laughed. A deep, guttural laugh that made Buck feel uneasy. “You're never too big for that, T-”

“You need to go. Now.”

“Hang on a minute,” Charles said, waving Tommy off. “I gotta talk to you about my will.”

“I don't give a damn about your will.”

“I've got fifty acres of land in Colorado, TJ. Been in the family for generations.”

“You've got a double wide trailer on that dump of land and couldn't get rid of it if you tried. I don't want it.”

Buck could hear shuffling, so he quickly picked up a knife to make it look like he'd been chopping away at that same cucumber from earlier.

Tommy entered the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink before turning to Buck. “Need help with anything, Ev?”

“N- No, um, no, I'm good.”

“I'm not getting any younger, TJ.”

Tommy placed a hand on Buck's lower back. It was as though it was an anchor for him. Something to keep him steady.

He glared over at his dad. “You're still here?”

“Don't be dumb, Thomas. I'm not leaving until we talk about this. Besides, your friend here invited me for dinner.”

The hand on Buck's back stiffened, before being removed completely. He turned his head toward Buck. “You did?”

“I- I thought you two might, um, might want to catch up.”

He hoped Tommy could read between the lines. Hoped he understood what Buck was really trying to say.

“I felt like I had no other choice. This was really awkward, even for me, and I panicked. Please, don't hate me.”

“That's kind of you, Evan,” Tommy replied, his attention returning to his father, “but we don't have anything to catch up on.”

“Hey! Don't stand there acting like I'm the problem,” Charles said, crossing the room in three steps. Buck could feel Tommy stiffen beside him. “You're the one who left, not me! I've been the one contacting you. You can act like I'm a terrible father all you want, but I'm the one that helped you be something!”

“You didn't help me! I ran from you! I was seventeen years old, Dad, joining the army to get away from you!”

Buck wanted to say something. Wanted to kick the man out of the house, or at least hold up his bowl of finely chopped cucumber and ask if anyone wanted a bite.

But, this wasn't his house. Not yet, anyway. And, somehow, he felt responsible for this whole debacle. He couldn't stop thinking about how he should have done things differently. He shouldn't have let Charles in the house. Shouldn't have attempted to make conversation. Shouldn't have invited him to stay for dinner. Should have figured out a way to call and warn Tommy. Should have texted him anyway; maybe he would have read it before getting out of his truck.

“You know, I really should have known better,” Charles said, shaking his head. “Should have known you wouldn't want to help your old man out.”

“Help you out?” Tommy asked, exasperated. “I have done nothing but help you out for years! I bailed you out of jail three times. I paid your gambling debts for you. I took a second mortgage out on my home so I could pay your back taxes! If I didn't stop answering your messages, I'd be living on the streets! And now you want to come talk about a will? On property that you've nearly foreclosed on twice? I'm surprised you even have that place any-” he stopped mid sentence. Buck glanced over at him, worried something had happened.

“You're about to lose the property, aren't you?” Tommy asked. That made much more sense.

“Now, just listen-”

“You're really here to have me buy the property, and give you the money, so you can go blow it on booze and steroids and hookers and whatever else you feel like.”

“This is what family does, TJ,” Charles said, pointing at Tommy as he eyed him down. “They help each other when they're in need.”

“When have you ever helped me, Dad?” Tommy asked. His voice was different now. Resigned, almost. “Never.”

“I don't need to stand here and listen to these lies in front of your friend!”

Tommy scoffed. “I think you know he's more than a friend.”

“Yeah, I do know. He's been bumbling like an idiot since I got here.”

Buck could feel his face turning red. He wasn't embarrassed by Charles' words, more surprised by the man's lack of filter.

“Get out.” Tommy demanded. “Now!”

Charles moved even closer, a tight fist placed on the countertop of the island. “You owe me!” he spit out through gritted teeth. “The embarrassment you have caused me. Being the way you are, having to answer questions from my friends! I have been trying to knock sense into you for years!”

“Maybe I was too busy lying to doctors in the hospital for the sense to really get knocked in there!”

“Pathetic,” Charles said, before mumbling out, “like your mother.”

“Get out.” It was Buck's voice this time. It no longer mattered to him that this wasn't his home. He didn't care if he was overstepping. Tommy could be mad if he wanted.

For as little as Buck knew about Tommy's family, he did see the way Tommy's eyes got red and glassy when he mentioned his mom. How he'd clear his throat and say she was a good woman, a great mom, gone too soon. From what he'd pieced together on his own, it was a suicide.

Tommy had never said as much, but he came to Buck's after a particularly bad shift. Buck hadn't even been expecting him. He showed up at the door, eyes blank, mind somewhere far away. He'd even forgotten he had a key of his own.

He'd curled into Buck the second the door opened, arms tight around Buck's waist and head turned into the crook of his neck.

Buck squeezed him back just as tight. Asked if he was okay, accepted the silence in return. They stayed there for a while, until Buck was finally able to convince Tommy to move to the couch.

Tommy snuggled up to Buck's side the second they sat down. He laid his head on Buck's chest, one arm curled between them and the other resting over Buck's stomach. They'd rested like this before, but this was the first time Buck ever thought that Tommy looked small. Not physically, obviously, but the way he acted was like a child in desperate need of comfort.

So that's what Buck did.

It was the longest thirty minutes of silence before Tommy spoke. “I worked the ground today,” he explained through a shaky voice, making no effort to move off of Buck. “We were short-staffed. There was a call. A kid found... he found his mom. She was in the bathtub. She was already,” he swallowed down a sob, “she was gone already. He was freaking out. I waited un- until his dad got there to be with him.”

“That's terrible, Tommy,” Buck said, running a soothing hand up and down Tommy's bicep.

“It just... it reminded me-” he cut himself off, took a deep breath, “I like being in the air.”

Buck wasn't dumb. He could put together a puzzle that was missing half its pieces. He knew better than to press the issue. Knew what Tommy needed right now was simply to be held.

So he held him.

He held him until Tommy's breaths evened out and the sun had long set.

And now, with Charles in front of him, it was all Buck could think about. That moment replaying in his mind as Tommy's father spewed venom from across the counter.

“If you're not out of here in ten seconds, I'll call the police for trespassing, and you seem like the type who has warrants waiting for them.”

Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Buck grabbed for the phone in his pocket.

The older man held his hands up in surrender and, without another word, turned and left the house.

There were a few beats of silence before Buck spoke. “Tommy, I-”

“I need to go for a walk.” Tommy's voice was stoic.

Buck didn't like that. He followed behind Tommy as he headed for the door. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

Tommy picked up his jacket and slipped it on. “No, I'm fine.”

“Tommy, I don't-”

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, hand still on the knob but halfway out the door already. “Evan, I'm fine,” he repeated. His voice wavered this time. Only slightly, but enough for Buck to catch it. “I just need a minute.”

Buck nodded, pursing his lips together. “Yeah, okay.”

He stood there long after the door had closed.

*****

A cool breeze filled the air as Tommy walked down his street. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets as a chill came over him.

He was tense. He kept trying to make sense of the thoughts in his head, but everything felt all jumbled.

He'd been doing so well. Therapy had helped him work through so many of the issues he had with his dad. Had helped him cut off contact. He stopped enabling the man and set himself free of him.

The only reason he didn't block his dad's number was because he knew, one day, a police officer or one of his dad's deadbeat friends would be calling to say he was dead. Even if he cared nothing for the man, he'd still like to know when it was all over.

There were times Tommy would sit and think about the things he'd say if he ever came face to face with his dad again. He had a list. All the ways his dad had screwed him over throughout his entire life.

And then the one time he actually did come face to face with the man after all these years, he didn't say a single damn thing he'd written down.

He knew he'd never get the chance again.

Knew his dad wouldn't really care anyway. He never cared about the pain he caused, even when Tommy was a little kid.

His jaw tensed. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He didn't want to cry anyway. He wanted to be mad.

That's what his dad always got angry at him for. Tommy would get upset, and he'd cry. His dad would yell, and he'd cry. His dad would hit him, he'd cry. His dad would hit him harder because he was crying, he'd cry even more.

Kids at school would make fun of his weight.

His dad would make him run laps until he'd puke.

He'd avoid eye contact to try and not be noticed.

He'd cry.

He'd cry.

He'd cry.

Not now though. Now he could hold it in. He finally learned that as a teenager. Perfected it over time. His therapist helped him with that too; taught him not to hold in his emotions. For the most part, he didn't anymore, he'd let himself feel whatever he was feeling. Right now he needed to control something, and this was the something he could control.

So he didn't cry.

But he let himself be mad.

Because he was so damn mad.

Mad at himself.

Mad at his dad.

Mad at him showing up to his house, invading his safe space, a space that had been free and clear of the trauma of his youth.

Now, every time he'd step in that house he'd see his dad there.

He hated that.

As much as he hated to admit it, a part of him was mad at Buck too.

No, mad wasn't the right word.

Envious, maybe.

Every time Buck talked about his parents, a twinge of envy sparked inside of Tommy. He knew it was stupid. He didn't even particularly like Buck's parents. He definitely didn't like who they used to be, how they used to treat their son.

But, to their credit, they had been trying now.

And that's where the envy came in.

Because Buck's parents went to therapy with him. They started showing up, being there for their kids, through good and bad, even when they weren't comfortable.

And yeah, they were a little late, and not all wounds ever completely heal. There were still problems, and they were always a bit on edge when Tommy was around, but they were there.

They still put on a smile for Buck, however forced, and corrected themselves when they called him Evan.

They'd never hit their kids. Sure, they were a little too busy ignoring them, but Maddie and Buck never had to be afraid of their parents.

“We were invisible,” Buck had told him once.

Tommy didn't say it, he'd never speak the words out loud, because he knew how much being invisible hurt Buck. But, the first thing Tommy thought when he heard that was I wish I could've been invisible too.

Even thinking something like that made Tommy feel like a bad person. Actually, he often felt like a bad person. A terrible, terrible person who was so undeserving of any forgiveness, happiness, and love. He'd think about who he became in the military. Closed off, angry, ruthless at times. He'd killed people. He didn't think about it. Just dropped the bomb on whatever target he'd been told to hit. They were just targets. Living, breathing targets. He'd hear reports of kids getting hit with missiles, innocent casualties who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that was war, and you didn't get emotional with war. Until you got home and you had to reason with who you'd become.

Then he'd think of who he became when he got hired as a firefighter. More closed off, angrier, trying to make up for what he'd done by saving lives instead of taking them. But, no matter how many saves he got, it didn't make up for the kills. And you could get close to people, but you'd probably lose them just like you did in the military, so why have a friend if they're just gonna die anyway?

Plus, there was Gerrard. Gerrard, who was so much like his dad in so many ways. A crass bastard who didn't care who he offended or how he mistreated people. Tears were a weakness, emotions were a weakness, and Tommy was tired of people thinking he was weak. So, he made sure he wasn't.

The difference between his dad and Gerrard was that, if you fit in with Gerrard, he wouldn't bother you as much.

His dad bothered him regardless.

Tommy was not a good person when he had Gerrard as a boss. At first, he blamed Gerrard. Healing came when he took responsibility for himself.

Even with the healing; with leaving the 118 and starting over. With getting therapy and changing his mindset and forgiving himself, there were times when he felt like the biggest fraud in the world. Because he may have forgiven himself, but he didn't deserve the forgiveness of the people around him.

He didn't deserve the friendship of Howie or Hen. He didn't deserve Eddie, who was always excited to hang out. He didn't deserve weekly dinners with Bobby and Athena, who would ask him about his week and listen to his stories. He didn't deserve Maddie, who was ready and waiting to watch The Bachelor each week with wine and a cheeseboard.

He definitely didn't deserve Evan.

Evan.

Who was always there, no matter what. Wore his heart on his sleeve, would do anything for anyone, Evan.

Evan, who was a soft kiss after a hard day. Who's body fit with Tommy's like two puzzle pieces that were finally placed together. Stubborn, smart, bold, unafraid, open, honest, loving, kind, adorable, Evan.

He'd talked to his therapist about it one day. Things were going too well, his life felt too good, and that nagging voice drudged its way up from the back of his mind to repeat over and over you don't deserve it, you don't deserve it, you don't deserve it.

Then his therapist asked him a simple question. “When you hear the voice, is it your voice, or is it your father?”

After thinking about it for a while, Tommy answered, “A morphing of the two. Starts as him, ends as me.”

A nod. “Let's dissect that.”

They did.

It sucked.

But it helped too. It didn't make the feeling go away, but it did help him recognize that what he was feeling didn't just stem from the choices he made as an adult, it started all the way back when he was a child. When he was told, time and time again, how he didn't deserve good things.

Oftentimes, Tommy felt like his mind was a cruel joke that liked to play, well, mind games on him. As soon as he'd push through his feelings of being undeserving, his brain would laugh and tell him he was pitying himself. Making himself the victim when, in the majority of the things he did as an adult, he was in fact not the victim. This would, in turn, make him feel undeserving of feeling undeserving.

“My mind is a very screwy place,” he said on a particularly grouchy day at therapy. “Truly can't believe they let me fly an aircraft.”

“It sounds kind of like you're torturing yourself for not being perfect.”

“I feel like the more I try to learn and grow from my past, to- to move on from it, it throws itself right back up in my face. I try. I really, really try to let it go, but I can't.”

“I know it's a sensitive topic for you, Tommy, but-”

“No.” Tommy knew where this was going. “No, it's not that.”

A sigh. “Tommy, how old are you?”

He was not in the mood for this today. “Forty-one.”

“And how old was your mother when she passed?”

“Forty-two.”

“I know you've mentioned before how she held onto her guilt. She felt hopeless. Worthless. Let it eat away at her. Your words.”

“I'm not like that. I'm not... I wouldn't do that. I don't feel that way.”

“I'm not saying that you do. I'm saying, sometimes, the reason we feel certain ways stems from our parents, grandparents, etcetera.”

Tommy uncrossed his legs, picked at a string hanging from his jeans. “Can we change the subject? Evan and I have a date tonight and I don't wanna be bitchy when I pick him up.”

*****

Tommy continued down the sidewalk, the only light from the street lamps above him. Occasionally, he'd hear a dog bark or a bird chirp but it was mostly quiet.

He was a couple miles from home now. He knew he should be heading back. His anger had mostly died down to something else by now. Something he couldn't really explain.

Emptiness, maybe?

Yet another word he'd used to describe his mother before.

But, he wasn't like her. He could always get out of bed. He didn't have problems brushing his teeth. He didn't let himself go. He never lost his appetite. He never felt like downing an entire bottle of pills on a regular Sunday afternoon. Would never think of risking his future child walking in the room, excited to tell him about winning the little league game, and instead find him on the floor, long gone.

“I'm the complete opposite of her,” Tommy said at his next session, still annoyed from the previous week. “I don't call out of work, I take extra shifts, I always have something planned when I'm off. I'm in a stable relationship which, yeah, I've only been in for five months, but it's been the best five months of my life. I manage everything fine. Sometimes my mind is just a dick to me.”

“Depression is different for everyone,” his apparently all knowing therapist replied. “Some people have all the symptoms, some have a few, none are exactly alike. There's levels to it, different kinds.”

Tommy slumped back on the couch, sighing as he stared out the window. “Well, that really sucks.”

He tried to be open with Evan. He'd told him so much about his life, about who he was. Evan knew everything about Tommy's time in the military. He knew what Tommy was like when he worked under Gerrard. He knew all the ways Tommy had struggled with himself and his sexuality. He knew all the bad parts, and he loved him anyway.

“I've made so many versions of myself, Tommy,” Buck told him one day, “I think I lost count at 5.0. They're all still me though. I wouldn't be here if I was never there, and I really, really like being here. Sometimes the crappy stuff makes you better in the end.”

Maybe it wasn't as well spoken as something his therapist would have said, but Tommy understood. No matter what, Evan wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't scared off by Tommy. Didn't judge him. He loved him. They loved each other.

Still, as Tommy walked the desolate street, he couldn't help the new voice inside his head. This one was his alone. It was telling him that, as open as he'd been, he'd still closed off a huge part of his life to Evan. It wasn't even necessarily intentional, it was just easier. Easier to avoid the topic altogether. However, it wasn't exactly fair.

He could hear his therapist in his mind, asking him the questions. “Why do you think you've closed that part of yourself off to Buck?”

He'd answer, “I don't exactly like revisiting the subject.”

“Do you not trust him with that part of your life?”

“Of course I do! I trust him with every part of my life.”

“Then why don't you tell him?”

“Because...”

“Because?”

Tommy would feel like pulling out his hair at this point. “Because I have spent so many years letting those parts of me go!”

“Have you really let them go? Unless you hit your head and get amnesia, is that even possible? Wouldn't it be easier if you let your partner help carry the burden when it gets hard for you?”

“He doesn't need to carry my burdens.”

“Don't you help carry his?”

On the street, Tommy stopped in his tracks. He groaned, staring up at the sky as if his therapist was some ethereal being. “I hate you,” he mumbled, before turning around and heading back home.

*****

He opened the door expecting to be hit with the ghost of his father standing there just hours earlier. Instead, he was met with the sight of Evan. Straight ahead at the kitchen table. He plopped his phone down on the table and stared up at Tommy, eyes wide and wet.

“Hi,” Buck said softly. He eyed Tommy carefully, trying to gauge the mood.

Tommy let out a shaky breath. “Hi,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and, once again, placing it on top of the duffel that hadn't moved.

“I was worried about you. You didn't take your phone and I- you were gone a long time.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't realize.” He really hadn't. He forgot he had ever put it in his duffel in the first place, usually opting to keep it in his pocket the majority of the time.

“S'okay.”

Tommy walked over to the table, pulled out the chair next to Buck, and sat down.

“I'm sorry, Evan,” Tommy repeated, for a different reason this time. “I shouldn't have left like that.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Buck sat up straighter, splaying his hands out on the table. “I'm sorry. I had no idea your dad was like that. If I did, I never would have let him in your house.”

“Our house,” Tommy corrected. “Soon enough, anyway. You don't need to be sorry either. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Buck smiled at him, turning one hand up for Tommy to take. “Can neither of us be sorry instead then?”

Tommy held onto it, Buck's touch relaxing him in the way it always did. “Sounds good to me.”

“Are you hungry? I left the food in the oven on warm, just in case.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I am actually. I'll get it though, you relax.” He squeezed Buck's hand as he got up. Before walking away, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple. When he began to pull away, Buck held onto his shirt, turning his head and giving him a real kiss. He moved his hands up to Tommy's face, stroking his thumbs along his cheeks as he did his best to project all his love into the kiss.

Tommy looked dazed as they parted. “I think I need to go on walks more often.”

Buck rolled his eyes, swatting at Tommy's butt as he walked off. “Ass.”

“And you love it.”

“I suppose I do.”

“So, what'd you make?” Tommy asked, putting on some oven mitts before pulling the dish out of the oven.

“You're, uh, not allowed to laugh at the name. It's a recipe I got from Bobby, but he got it from the internet or something.”

“Oh God, did you make that goat in the boat dish again?”

“It was toad in the hole, and you loved it!”

“Mm,” Tommy hummed. He got out a couple plates and started plating the food. “What's it called?” he asked again.

“It's... It's called, um, it's Marry Me Chicken.”

After a beat of silence, Buck looked over to see Tommy staring at him, an eyebrow raised. “Evan Buckley, are you proposing to me over a chicken dish?”

Another eye roll. “Absolutely not.”

“You know the saying, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”

“And all this time I thought it was through his ass.”

“Aye!”

Buck laughed, resting his chin on his hand as he watched Tommy finish up in the kitchen. “There's also some very finely chopped cucumber in the fridge if you'd like that as well, but it's not part of the dish.”

“Still a delightful addition to any meal,” Tommy replied, grabbing the bowl out of the fridge. He balanced it on his wrist before picking up the plates and bringing them to the table. “This looks amazing, Ev.”

“I hope it tastes good.”

“I'm sure it will.”

As Tommy and Buck both began to cut up their pieces of chicken, Tommy glanced over at his boyfriend. “So, um, tonight was... it was a lot.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I wanted to...” Tommy's voice trailed off, unsure of how to articulate what he wanted to say. He put down his cutlery and focused on Buck. “I was thinking on my walk about how open you've always been, talking about your mom and dad. Even the hard stuff, the uncomfortable stuff, you share it all. I- I haven't done that with you, Evan. That's not fair to you.”

“I've never felt that way,” Buck assured him. “I understood.”

“Still, I- I've always shared everything with you, besides that. It's not even the worst parts of me, really. I know... I know that stuff, when I was a kid, I know none of that was my fault. I think part of me felt like if I ignored it forever, it would eventually go away.” He shook his head. “It doesn't go away.”

Once again, Buck held out a hand for Tommy to take, connecting them on top of the table. “I'm here. Whenever you're ready. Now. Ten years from now. Whenever.”

Ten years from now. Those words hit him hard. He could feel his heart swell.

They were forever. Evan was his forever.

He took a deep breath, his residual anxieties melting away. “There's a lot about my parents you don't know.”

“Practically everything,” Buck agreed.

Tommy let out a laugh. “Well, I'd like to change that,” he replied, sharing a soft smile with Buck.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because we don't have to right now, if you're not ready.”

“No, I'm ready,” he answered. He squeezed Buck's hand tighter. “There's a lot to talk about with my dad,” he started, grabbing up his fork with his free hand to pierce a piece of the chicken, “but I think I want to start with my mom. She was... She was a lot like me.”

Buck nodded, smiling gently. “I love her already.”

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

@bucktommypositivityweek // #BuckTommypositivityweek, day 2 | NICKNAMES AND TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

[AO3 version]

– When? –

There was something Buck couldn't get out of his head. 

A small thing, looking at the big picture, but he had always been a man of detail. He’d been thinking about it for several days now, nights even, although his head was resting comfortably in the crook of Tommy’s arm. 

Anyway, Tommy. He had probably said his name hundreds of times by now (a not inconsiderable number of them moans), and it still rolled off Buck's tongue with a certain awe.  Sometimes he woke up with a surreal feeling, wondering whether it could actually be true: fate was being kind to him, for once. All he had to do was turn his world completely upside down, and that hadn’t be hard. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was actually in a real relationship. The kind that led up to something true, something long-lasting. This felt good, so familiar and comforting, like he’d never felt before with anybody, not even with Abby. 

That's why it shouldn't be so damn difficult for him to come up with a pet name for Tommy. 

Strangely enough, he didn't expect the same from Tommy. He, too, had already called him Evan hundreds of times (some of them, yes, moans), and somehow, it was a distinction. A nickname is given to make sure you belong in your group of friends, and that had always been very important to Buck. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be Evan, a name untainted to Tommy who didn’t know what he’d done, how he’d been before. It was an accolade to be Evan for Tommy.

And maybe it was just a mature way to have a relationship, one in which you cultivated a connection that had no need for pet names. 

He didn’t really believe that. Actually, he didn't want to believe it, because every time Buck looked at Tommy, he became so insanely… soft. Not in the parts that mattered, of course, just… kind of weak, in a good way. Surely, Buck had always basically melted for any kind of affection, but this was different. Tommy was like a precious treasure that needed to be protected; a very special person who deserved a very special name. 

So Buck lay there night after night thinking about it, displeased with everything that crossed his mind. 

Baby? Nope. The man was almost 6’2’’ and a Muay Thai fighter, he could throw Buck if he wanted (and sometimes, they both wanted that). Darling? No way, even with Tommy's fondness for Hallmark movies. He contemplated sugar, honey, sunshine, sugar snap pea and beautiful (by God, the man was a sight for sore eyes) along with a dozen more. None of it was Tommy, none of it completely captured him. Tommy, for his part, didn't use pet names either, which of course might have been an indication that he thought it silly. No matter how he turned it around, Buck couldn't find a solution, and certainly not a suitable name. 

The average person speaks between 6,000 and 16,000 words a day, and maybe Buck should have just been satisfied that Tommy was now one of the most common words in his vocabulary. Fortunately, his everyday life offered enough distraction. Fate, however, finally decided to throw a spoke into his wheel.

In a week where temperatures reached nearly 104 degrees, the 118 suffered an unprecedented run of bad luck. There were minor mishaps, irritating breakdowns and outright accidents, leaving the fire station severely understaffed. Buck found himself working a 24-hour shift after a 48, which was anything but legal – however, he’d be the last person to tell the union rep. He wore his locker room’s spare clothing for three days, but with the crazy temperatures, people were straining too, so he barely got to take off his uniform anyway. 

The climax was reached on Monday evening. All the air conditioning systems running at full blast had overloaded the city's power system, and not for the first time. Broken traffic lights during rush hour caused drivers to go into a frenzy. There were also numerous sunburns and heatstrokes, fights and other altercations and, of course, several fires. 

Buck was extremely exhausted when they reached their next location, a chemical plant with numerous people complaining about vague symptoms. The prospect of possibly having to put on a chemical protection suit surely didn’t make him happy, and only the fact that Bobby held up excellently, despite his age and a few beads of sweat on his forehead, kept Buck going. Bobby, on the other hand, hadn’t been on duty for three days, and Buck felt these three days in every bone. 

There was no alternative to the protective suit, as thick smoke was billowing out of the factory when they arrived. However, there was no sign of a fire, which is why a closer investigation was essential. The yellow protective clothing was heavy and hot, and after just a few seconds, sweat was pouring down Buck’s back. He found it harder to breathe the deeper they went into the factory. 

“It's probably a chemical reaction,” Bobby said, ”be careful.”

According to the employees, there were various ways in which the substances stored in the factory could react with each other, and none of them were good. When he finally found the open barrel, Buck didn't think twice – despite Bobby's warning to be careful and Chimney's startled exclamation that he should keep his hands off it, he grabbed the heavy, metal lid. 

“What do you think's in there?” he gasped as he lifted it. 

“Just keep your nose out of it,” Chimney shouted.

Buck had every intention of doing so, but the lid was very heavy and his body was as exhausted as his patience. It would have been reasonable to wait until Chimney reached him to heave the lid onto the barrel together and stop the smoke. Instead, he tried to do it alone, stumbling under the weight and having to hold on to the barrel. The lid slipped from his grasp, clattering across the floor while Buck was completely enveloped in smoke. Dozens of possibilities for deadly chemical reactions flashed through his mind, and panic shook his whole body. But only very briefly – then, he collapsed unconscious. 

“Evan, sweetheart,” Tommy said, ”let me tell you a story.”

Buck thought he was dreaming. However, he had never had a dream in which his eyelids were so heavy; no, actually his whole body felt as heavy as lead. His head was pounding, as if on the verge of a migraine, and he kept his eyes closed. Realizing that he was lying in bed, the unmistakable sounds and smells made him suspect that he had won another stay in what Tommy had teased to be a 118-wing at the hospital.

Tommy. Who was obviously here too, probably sitting in one of those uncomfortable and far too small chairs next to his bed. For some reason, he had said he wanted to tell him a story, although he thought Buck was sleeping. Or maybe exactly because he thought him sleeping. 

Part of Buck wanted to open his eyes, look at his boyfriend and reassure him that he was all right. Another part, however, the far more tired part, just wanted to lie there and listen to Tommy's voice. That part of him tried to convince himself that Tommy had called him sweetheart. Had he? The only way to find out was to let him talk. 

“... absolutely unnecessary,” Tommy just said. Buck had missed the beginning of the sentence, but he had a good idea of what it was about. Indeed, “Hanging your head directly over a barrel of chemicals, really.”

It was really hard to argue against that, and besides, Buck still pretended to be asleep, so he didn’t even try. 

“You know,” Tommy continued softly, and Buck felt him reach for his hand. That was nice, and he had to hold back so as not to squeeze it. “In theory, it's all so simple,” Tommy went on. “You’re telling yourself that we both have potentially dangerous jobs, so we know what we’re getting ourselves into when we fall in love with a fire fighter.“

He paused, heaving a sigh. 

"But of course, that's not true. Something happens and you realize that you're more afraid than ever before in your life. Can you even imagine what it's like when you get one of these calls? Who am I fooling… of course you can. Doesn’t make it any easier, Evan.”

Tommy fell silent again and, presumably lost in thought, ran his hand over Buck's ring finger. It was a strangely intimate gesture, almost seminal, and for a moment Buck thought about opening his eyes. But Tommy was already talking on. 

“You realize that there are so many things you haven't done together yet, so many things you haven't said. What if you never have the chance? On the other hand, you're also afraid to say all this … that’s human, I guess. And, Evan, your doctor was just here, he said you only collapsed from exhaustion and a mild heatstroke, nothing that would cause permanent damage. So it would be easy to say nothing, and maybe I won't. But as long as you're asleep... perhaps this is the only time I dare. Because, Evan, sweetheart, I think I love you.”

Buck cracked his eyes open, despite his heavy eyelids.

“What did you say?” he croaked.

Tommy cocked his head, “How long have you been awake?” he asked. 

It was not a dream. He was really sitting there, his tall frame pressed into a tiny chair, with a soft gaze that didn't hide his concern.

“D-doesn't matter,” Buck mumbled, just a tiny bit ashamed. “Because you're right.”

“I'm right? That's nice to hear, but what am I right about?”

“That you should talk to each other while you can. I’ve been thinking about a pet name for you for a while, you know? It needed to be perfect.” 

“Ah,” Tommy returned, a twinkle in his eyes, “and now you heard me call you sweetheart for the first time, albeit in a moment of weakness, I’d like to add.”

Buck didn't go in for the joke, his gaze was serious as he replied, “Yeah, I think I was waiting for you to call me that.”

“Because it makes it more real.”

There was so much understanding and affection in Tommy's gaze that Buck felt dizzy. It might have only been the heatstroke, but his heart was practically overflowing in this moment.

“It-it does, I guess,” he said. “But then I realized that it's not a pet name that defines us. It's the things you mentioned. And I realized what I've known for a long time, Tommy.”

“What's that?” Tommy asked gently, as if he hadn't already suspected it. Yet it needed to be said, that was for sure.

“I love you too. And it must never be too late to tell you that.”

Tommy's jaw literally dropped, as if he had hoped, but not actually believed, that Buck felt the same way. No, rather as if he hadn't allowed himself to believe it. His features softened, and he squeezed the hand he still held with shaky fingers; so hard it almost hurt.  

“Tommy,” Buck said softly, “did the doctor also say anything about whether it's okay to kiss me?”

“No,” he replied in a raspy voice. “Would you like that?”

“I would. But wait.”

"Hmm?" Tommy went, casting a desirous glance at his lips. 

“Say it again.”

“Sweetheart,” Tommy breathed on Buck’s lips.

[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Tuesday 8/20: outsider's perspective | at the coffee shop | 1372 words | rated T

There were pros and cons to working at the coffee shop next door to LAFD Station 118, that was for sure.

The lights and sirens could get overwhelming at times, blazing by with no warning. Eliza sometimes had to cover her ears, and during her very first week behind the counter she’d flinched so badly she dropped a pitcher of near-scalding milk when the third firetruck in ten minutes had screamed out of the garage – that had been fun – but she’d more or less gotten used to the noise.

Business was really reliable. Some of the firefighters and EMTs who came in had stupidly complicated drink orders, but the majority just wanted their coffee strong and in copious quantities. They were good tippers, for the most part. And when they had the time to hang out and shoot the shit for a while, they always had the craziest stories.

Eliza liked the vicarious excitement. Eliza’s life was not exciting.

She hadn’t even intended to work here as long as she has, but you know, life happens. A summer job before community college started up turned into a bout of depression that meant pushing school back a semester. And then another. And then her sister had gotten pregnant and needed help leaving her asshole of a boyfriend, so she’d moved in with Eliza and that had meant a lot more bills, of course.

It was whatever. She did some classes online here and there, when she had the time. Her nephew turned two and was drop dead hilarious. And she liked her job; it wasn’t complicated, but there was good variety from day to day. The manager kept the schedule predictable and wasn’t an asshole. Coworkers came and went, but they were mostly decent. She got by.

The regulars were definitely the best part of the gig. The 118 A shift were in and out nearly every day, and Eliza liked to think that some of them had become – something close to friends. Maybe the kinds of friends you saw at work, or in class. There was Hen, the beautiful paramedic with an even more beautiful wife; and Howie, who was weirdly hot for his age and always ready with a stupid joke. Eddie, who practiced his Spanish with Claudia when she was behind the counter. The captain, who was the best tipper of the whole crew and always remembered to ask after people’s kids and spouses.

And then there was Buck. His credit card said Evan, but he always asked them to write Buck on his cups, so that was what they did. He was tall and muscular and his hair had a little red-gold tinge to it when the light hit it right, and Eliza could admit that she’d had a crush on him since probably the second time he’d walked through the coffee shop door.

It wasn’t even the long legs or the muscles, though those were nothing to sneeze at; Buck had one of the most expressive faces she’d ever seen. It was like there was a little weather system right in the crease between his eyebrows, broadcasting every emotion for the world to see: rainy and stormy when he was down, or bright like the sun whenever things were going well.

He was chatty, too; loved to strike up a conversation with anyone, regardless of how they were dressed or what side of the counter they were on. They started a “question of the day” on the chalkboard just because Buck kept coming in with new facts to share with everyone.

So, yeah. Eliza had been nursing her crush for years, at this point. It was lame, she knew it was lame – but it was harmless. Buck was the perfect kind of guy to have a crush on, if you asked her. He was in proximity enough to keep it fresh, but distant enough that nobody’s annoying traits got in the way. Like the good friend of your older brother, or the guy who sat across from you in class: close enough that something felt almost tangible, but never too familiar. Never close enough that she saw any of his flaws, and certainly never close enough that he saw any of hers.

She’d thought seriously about giving him her number, once. She’d kind of felt like things were ramping up between them for weeks – their banter had felt a little extra charged, a little more flirty than a simple barista-customer exchange warranted. She told herself she was imagining things and only let herself think about him when she was drifting off to sleep in her creaky double bed, making little deals with herself: if he says this tomorrow I’ll do that. If he makes a crack about my apron again, I’ll write my number down. If he references that inside joke, I’ll ask him out. I will.

The next day, Buck had been walked to the front door of the coffee shop by a gorgeous, slim redhead with a dynamite smile, who’d kissed him passionately goodbye on the doorstep. He’d come in like he was walking on air, and Eliza had served him his usual with a smile, and crumpled up her daydreams like so much receipt paper.

Things actually got a little easier, after that. The redhead had stuck around for a while, and then there had been a hint of an explosive argument, and she had disappeared. Buck had seemed down for a while, and then he’d bounced back; things had been normal for a while, and then he’d been gone – Hen had alluded to some kind of medical leave, and everyone’s faces had been a little more pinched than usual for a bit. But he’d bounced back from that, too.

And Eliza’s life had gone on. It wasn’t exciting, but it was nice. She took her classes. She was saving some money. She had a friend in a band, and most weekends she went to see them play out around the city. Once there had been people making art, live, painting to the music while the bands were on, and she’d gotten to try her hand at it, and liked it so much that she started taking an art class every Tuesday afternoon at the community center around the corner from her apartment. Her nephew was about to start kindergarten, which was going to free up a lot of time and money for her and her sister. Life was good.

She was a little older, a little wiser. She still worked in the same coffee shop, and Buck still came into the same coffee shop, and they made the same jokes, and he seemed a little older and a little wiser, too. It was comforting, in a way, to think that they both were finally growing up.

Sometimes she still wondered, with the tiniest little pang, what might have happened if she’d been brave enough to give him her number, way back when. Sometimes she still let herself dream about him, just a little, only while she was falling asleep. What it might have been like to ask him. What it might have been like to kiss him.

One day Buck came in accompanied by a new guy. He was handsome, as tall as Buck – maybe a little broader in the shoulders – with brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Eliza wondered, briefly, if he was a probie or a new transfer to the 118. He was definitely another firefighter; she had gotten to know the type, could tell just by looking at him. He was looking at Buck like he had all the answers to the new guy’s questions. And they were holding hands.

They were holding hands.

Oh.

Eliza could have laughed. Oh, she could have gone into hysterics right then and there, she really could have. But instead she put on her most professional smile, and raised her eyebrow only a little bit at Buck’s obvious blush. The new guy’s coffee order was clearly some kind of inside joke.

She could work with that. She loved her regulars, loved an inside joke.

She wrote Tommy on his cup and had the feeling that this guy was going to stick around for a while.

[team-118]

don't wanna ruin the moment

790 words, buddie, pre-relationship/gen, 4×12 Treasure Hunt missing scene

Just Eddie, next to Buck on the freeway, windows down to let the night in. Just Eddie with a lot to smile about.

read it on ao3.

the lovely @queerweewoo and @userbuddie had tagged me for snippets in the past couple weeks and I'd had nothing to show, so this one's for y'all.

"Five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five point five," Eddie says as he climbs into the jeep.

"Hm?" Buck backs out of the dark road they parked on, hand rested on the familiar spot behind the neck of the passenger seat. Eddie leans into it out of habit.

"The treasure. Five million divided by nine; it's five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five point five."

Buck whistles lowly. "Well, it's not a million something-something, but it's better than nothing." He pulls the jeep into line behind Athena's car, waving at Hen and Chimney in his rearview.

"Mm. If we find it," Eddie sighs.

"We'll find it," Buck grins, confident, bordering cocky. "With the 118 on the job? Better watch out, Hollis Harcourt."

Eddie laughs. He rolls the window down, letting the cool night air rush into the car. Things have been heavy, lately - good, but heavy: getting Chris on board with Ana, Chris chartering an Uber and running off, but at least it was to Buck. This feels like home, wind against his cheeks and Buck next to him, sandwiched in the middle of the rest of the 118. Whatever else they find tonight, God, he's grateful to have this.

They drive in silence for a while, until Eddie starts fiddling with the bluetooth and Buck busts into laughter when he plays the Mission: Impossible theme. It's so stupid. Eddie's cheeks kind of ache from smiling.

"How'd you know that?" Buck asks, once he's calmed down.

"Know what?"

"That math thing."

"I know math," Eddie defends.

"Yeah, but five million divided by nine?"

"Mm. There's, like, a rule," Eddie muses. "Something like, if the number is divisible by 10, then dividing it by 9 is the first digit of that number a bunch of times, with one less place value."

Buck furrows his brows, like he’s trying to do it in his head.

"300 divided by 9 is 33.3. 400 divided by 4 is 44.4," Eddie shrugs. "I don't know, it was in Chris's math homework."

What Eddie doesn't bring up is that it was Ana who taught him that. That he'd kissed her on her couch, in between fourth grade math problems and bites of the dinner she'd made, and it had felt...nice, he guesses. Good. It's been a while since he's kissed anyone, and Shannon was only his second or third kiss, and Ana tasted so different but felt just the same. Cherry lips instead of strawberry, but still soft and warm. He still resisted the teenage urge to wipe his mouth on his hand afterwards.

But he doesn't mention it, because Buck would ask, and then his stupid lie about construction on Sunset would fall apart and Buck would know he's kissed someone and God, wouldn't that be weird? And anyway, that's not who he wants to be right now.

Not Eddie, maybe betraying Shannon's memory and maybe hurting his son and maybe not being the greatest boyfriend, after all this time. Just Eddie, next to Buck on the freeway, windows down to let the night in. Just Eddie with a lot to smile about.

"Almost there," Buck says finally, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts. "I think we beat the others by a bit. See, aren't you glad I drove?"

"I'm always glad when you drive," Eddie grins. "Saves me so much gas."

Buck reaches over the dash and flicks his temple. "Just for that, I'm taking half your cut."

"You wouldn't," Eddie gasps, mocking.

"Oh, yeah, freeloader," Buck teases. "And I'll use it to bribe Chris into teaching me your secret, mathematical ways."

"They're really not a secret. I could teach you, if you really wanted."

"Ah, but if my calculations are correct, your numbers are wrong," Buck says, swinging the Jeep through a sharp left into Harcourt's quiet neighborhood. He taps his nose knowingly, looks at Eddie, and smirks. "Five and above, you gotta round up. It should be point six."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Semantics."

"Details! They're important," Buck insists as they pull into the driveway. "Math teachers can't tell you everything, you know. You'll still need me around."

Buck doesn’t know about that night, but he knows about Ana. Of course he does.

"I'll always need you around," Eddie tells him, probably a little more honestly than warranted. But then Buck is smiling over the parking brake, and that makes it worth it. Eddie holds eye contact until Hen's headlights appear in the rearview, and then he hops out.

"I mean," he says, grinning over the hood. "Who else is gonna drive me to the treasure?"

Then Eddie's own laughter is drowning out Buck's groan, and he grabs his best friend’s hand and pulls him to Hollis Harcourt's gate.

[translatemunson]

thought of calling you, but you won’t pick up • ttfd

chapter four of the tortured firefighters department

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cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), reader is a math and science nerd, chris is here, mentions of food, hints of mental issues, proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)

You checked your phone again. Last night, Eddie texted that Carla would be joining you and Chris on your small field trip because he forgot he had booked her for the day. You never met the lady, but you were sure it was gonna be fine. With an extra adult ticket in your pocket, you waited.

Fifteen minutes and no sign of them. Maybe you should text Eddie and get Carla’s number? She was probably stuck in traffic, but that information would ease your worries — and you could help her avoid the even worse routes the apps were giving these days. At this pace, you’d wear off the soles of your white Nike Dunk and pull every single thread of your maroon sweater.

You were about to text Eddie when you saw the black Jeep Wrangler parking not a few spots down to your left. No fucking way, you thought as you marched into its direction.

“Let’s go, Chris, we’re gonna be late!” Buck helped the kid out of the car and picked up a small paper bag before closing the door.

“Hey, Chris! Are you excited?” You hugged him and kept your hands on his shoulder, finally looking at the one person you’ve been successfully avoiding. “Thanks for dropping him off, Buckley. Is Carla joining us later?”

“Actually, I’m on babysitting duty today.” He extended you the paper bag. “Peace offering?”

“What is this?”

“The reason why we were late.” He insisted you accept the bag. “C’mon, aren’t you curious?”

“He said you’d like it,” Chris added. 

You accepted the gift, peaking it before opening the bag and finding one of your favorite cupcakes from your favorite bakery. The one from the incident that set the whole “we could be friends” situation on fire.

“Can we call it a truce for today?” It was implied, but he was definitely saying this for Chris’ sake.

“Ok, just today. But this doesn’t make things magically disappear, Buckley.”

“Why do you call him Buckley?” Chris asked you, his head tilted in your direction. “I call him Buck!”

“She’s mad at me, little guy.” He took a step closer to you two, probably testing the waters. “Did you get the tickets?”

“Who do you think I am? But give me one second, I can’t enter the museum with food.”

“Take your time. Wanna see if we can get to the museum before Brains, Chris?” And off they went.

You were almost sure Eddie planned this out. Leaving you to babysit his son and his annoying friend, who everyone under the 118 roof knew you were avoiding. One hundred percent intentional, right? And of course he would be late because he drove all the way to Santa Monica to buy your favorite cupcake — someone gave him a tip.

You started to feel a bit sad for ignoring his calls and texts all week long. But you pushed it away while you ate the cupcake and watched the boys walking to the entrance. With your clean hand, you gave Buck the tickets and told them to go ahead and go all the way back after the main hall: it was smart to take advantage of the morning weather on the Nature Gardens outside and explore all the fossils and animals later on. 

You were just a few steps behind when you caught up with them in the outdoor gardens. As a newcomer to this whole Chris’ babysitter duty job, you left to Buck to finish the small walk around the main paths. It was a good opportunity to text Eddie and say that, even though you offered to take Chris to the Museum, you were only assigned to take care of one kid, not two. In his best single-father in the middle of a shift style, he texted you a ‘thumbs up’ back. Oh he was so hearing about it later.

The Natural History Museum in Los Angeles was definitely packed with exhibitions that could keep a child and adults entertained. You’d been there once, as soon as you moved to LA, almost a year ago now, and the featured exhibitions were different back then, but still a pretty good curating work after all.

However, the moment Chris saw the Dinosaur Hall and the Dino Lab, you knew it was over for any other exhibitions. And could you blame him? The dinos were pretty badass and Chris was a very curious kid, so he kept asking you all the questions you could’ve imagined — and a few more you weren’t prepared for. You acted like his own private tour guide, proud of spending some time researching and studying about dinosaurs the last few days.

You almost missed all the attention Buck was giving to you while you talked. To be honest, you couldn’t tell who was more focused on you: the kid or the annoying adult.

After all that talking, you for sure were starting to feel a little tired and overwhelmed. Even with short breaks for some water, you still felt like you needed a reset. You signaled to Buck that you’re going to the restroom for a second, he kept reading Chris the charts about butterflies and insects.

You washed your hands and used some of the water on your neck, trying to calm yourself down. How did you go from wanting Buckley’s head on a plate to babysitting with him? Life was fast and unpredictable by the Pacific shore. One lady entered the restroom and stopped by the sink to your right, trying to get rid of the chocolate and ketchup in her hands. You saw her a few minutes ago, when you stopped to grab some water.

“Can I just say you are an adorable couple? And your son is so sweet.” Her tone was sweet and definitely meant well. But she was so wrong about everything.

“Oh, he’s not our kid,” you rushed to explain the situation. “We’re just babysitting for a friend while he’s working.”

“Well, just like my grandparents told me once: sometimes you’ll have a taste of what your life could be with a special person at the moment you least expected.”

You smiled at her through the mirrors. “Did they give you any advice on how to know if it’s the right one?”

“No, but you look like someone who knows how to find that answer.” She threw the paper towels away. “Sorry for being so cryptic. Have fun!”

She left before you could even thank her for… well, the advice. Not that you asked for it, but it did show up in a nice time. Or maybe not. You weren’t sure. Did that truce mean you could let yourself feel everything you were repressing for the past few weeks? Not just regarding Evan Buckley and his lack of manners, but about everything in your life.

After all the dinosaurs and lectures about natural history, you decided to wrap up and move on to the next stop on your list. Buckley helped Chris get down the entry steps and you took the directions back to the parking lot close to the museum.

“Thanks for your services, Buckley. You can just,” you motioned your head to his car. “Ok, Chris. What do you wanna do now?” You opened your Uber app to get a ride to the next destination.

“Not necessary.” Buckley took the phone out of your hands and stored it into his jacket pocket. “I’m also the designated driver for the day.”

“What happened to you getting out of my hair?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I thought we were in this together.” He gave you the classic — and a little bit sassy — Buckley smile. He paid for the parking. “C’mon, Chris, we have places to go.”

The three of you walked to his car, but you were still not convinced. It was your idea to babysit Chris for the day, all your plans were picked towards your goal: having a nice and chill day with him. You didn’t need Evan Buckley and all his golden retriever energy to disturb your perfect equation.

While you were hating on him, he made sure Chris was comfortable and safe on the back seat. 

“Why are you ruining my plans?” You didn’t move from the driver’s door. Maybe, if you were warned beforehand you’d had to deal with him, you'd grow some patience. But not today, not this fast.

“I’m not. Still your plans with Chris. Tell me where to go next, I’ll drive us.”

“Give me my phone back.”

“Are you letting me be your driver today?” He leaned against the car.

“What choice do I have, Evan?” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, I’ve told you I’m sorry.” You stepped aside, finally letting him grab the door handle. “Also, none of my friends call me Evan, by the way.”

“And since when am I your friend?”

“Since now. Hurry up, he’s gonna grow impatient and snap at us.”

“He would never do that.”

“Wanna test your theory, future doctor?”

“Not at all.”

He closed the door. You went around the vehicle, still pissed at him for taking your phone from you. You jumped into the car and checked Chris.

“Ok, are we hungry already or can we check out this cool place before that?”

“Pancakes!” Chris shouted from his seat. “Please?”

“Sure! Ok, let me just,” you instinctively reached out for your phone, but it was still being held hostage by Buck. “Phone, please.”

“Here,” he handed it to you, an aux cable attached to it. “Put the address in the GPS, and please play something kid friendly, ok?”

“Excuse me? What do you think I listen to while I’m driving to work?”

“With that sassy attitude of yours? I expect the worst.”

Just to prove him wrong, as soon as you entered the address on the GPS, you blasted one of your personal favorites. “I stay out too late, got nothing in my brain. That's what people say, mm-mm,” you sang.

“That's what people say, mm-mm,” and Chris, in the back seat, joined you.

You were definitely getting under Buck’s skin. The fact that you picked a song Chris knew the words too left him in disadvantage because you were sure he wanted the taste of saying “Told you so” as soon as he proved his point. But he should’ve known better than to provoke you.

“And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate. Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake. I shake it off!” You sang it right by Buck’s ear, dodging his hand because he was trying to get you out of his hair. Well, how does it feel now, Evan?

Your queue was really impressive: it looked like you were up-to-date with what the younger generation was listening to — not that you didn’t enjoy the same songs occasionally, but you never kept your options too narrow. There was just one scary moment where you thought you added an explicit song, but you deleted it in time. 

Buck was too busy following the GPS directions. You were stuck with him for the rest of the day, which was a nightmare by itself, and kinda stuck into the endless LA traffic. Chris didn’t notice the animosity between you because you both toned it down — for him, only for one day. Most of it sounded like some friendly banter.

Under the upbeat pop song you were playing, you could hear him singing another tune, barely familiar, but still unrecognizable.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.” He made a left turn, but kept on singing it. “If you could see it… been here all along… how could you not know baby.”

Without a warning, you typed the name of the song in your library and gave it priority in your queue. His fingers started tapping in the beat, and he started following the lyrics, saying the right words this time.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me,” you two sang along together. But you really kept your poker face because you couldn’t give him any reasons to be even more annoying.

“Looks like we’ve arrived,” he announced, breaking the spell of one song.

Buck pointed to the restaurant you found a few months ago. It was located south of Santa Monica, a few blocks from the beach, but with the rooftop seats, you could definitely say you were eating by the beach. You parked not far from the entry, and you rushed upstairs to get one of those special tables, telling Buck to help Chris because you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

On the very edge of the roof, your favorite table awaited you: closer to the corner, with a huge light blue umbrella over your head, the four seat table had the perfect view and vibes. You pulled a chair for your bag and greeted the waiter. She didn’t get why you were in a rush until she saw Chris on Buck’s back.

“Could you just pick a place with an elevator next time?”

“I thought you were the muscles, Buckley. Hey, Chris, let me help you.” You held him tight, removing him from Buck’s embrace and putting him on the floor. “I had to make sure we had the perfect table.”

Three stores of stairs, in a rush, were justified once you got to see the smile on Chris’ face. You could catch your breath later.

+++

Chris ate way too many pancakes. You’d have to do a lot of explaining to Eddie, but hey, if the kid was happy, how could that be a problem?

You had to cancel the last plan of the day — a trip to another museum — and settle down at an arcade close to the restaurant before ending your babysitting duty. Just buying you enough time to Eddie leave the firehouse and be home. So you were watching Buck and Chris playing some games while you tried to schedule some study breaks between classes and shifts.

“What’s wrong?” Buck sat down to your right. Chris was just in your sight, in case he needed more coins or any help.

“Nothing.” You turned off your phone screen, ignoring your packed schedule.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” He gave you a little smudge on the shoulder. “C’mon, Brains, talk to me.”

“I’m just a bit tired, it’s fine.”

“You know, you can go home now, I’ll take him to Eddie’s. You look like you need a good night of sleep.”

“To be honest, I can’t go back home now because I’d feel guilty. My brain is all mushy,” you pointed to your head, “and I wouldn’t be able to study or relax. I would rather stay here, where my mind is focused on something else.”

“I know what you mean,” he leaned his body back, his eyes staring something beyond what you could see. “I support you distracting yourself, but this won’t go away just because you’re ignoring it, you know? Are you sure you’re ok?”

Being ok was a concept you weren’t sure about the past few days. You wanted to be ok, to look ok to everyone around you, but it was hard. You were just faking until you made it. The PhD program was starting to wear you off, and even though you loved it, the thoughts of giving up were taking every single inch of your notes and books.

But what would be your excuse to leave it unfinished when numbers, probabilities and hours of understanding the impossible things were half of your life at this point?

“Did I hit my head or something? Do you have a fever? Why are you being nice to me?” You swiftly tried to change subjects.

“We’re on a truce, remember?”

“Maybe we could be on good terms again,” you suggested. “I mean, if you ever eat my cupcakes again, Bobby will need to hire a new firefighter.”

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good.” Your screen lit up with a notification. “Eddie is gonna be stuck with an emergency, but Carla is on her way to the house. Should we just go?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get him and then we drop him off.”

“Great.”

Chris black out as soon as Buck started the drive back to the Diaz house. The radio volume was low, and the orange and pink tones of the sunset were being replaced by the dark blue of the night. You found it hard to keep your eyes open for too long, and only noticed you took a nap when Chris was calling for your name, wanting to say goodbye before going inside.

“Thank you for today, Brains!” He hugged you, and it made everything worth it. “Can we do this again soon?”

“We’re gonna chase all the dinosaurs in LA, I promise.” You gave him one last huge and walked back to the car, watching Carla and Buck talking by the front door.

And there you were, back in the car with Evan Buckley. If he wanted to make a comment about how he was right, he let it slide. You connected your phone and entered the address to your house on the GPS. He took your phone from your hands, declaring “Now that everyone in this car is over 18, we can play the good stuff.”

“Are you sure you are old enough? Give me that back, Evan!”

“Hey! I’m driving. And you challenged me. I’m gonna show you what I usually blast in my car.”

You expected anything from Evan Buckley, even the worst genre of music, but nothing prepared you for when you listened to the introduction of ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ blasting through the speakers.

The playlist had completely changed and moved away from what you played when Chris was in the car. Bruce Springsteen, The Beatles, even a little of Led Zeppelin, just to enjoy some classics you never thought Buck appreciated. But he was more than just a firefighter with a sassy attitude, some wrongs and lots of muscle.

You look around, panicking a little when you notice you’re entering your building’s garage. You were definitely expecting to be dropped off at the front of the building. What the hell was going on?

“What… How did you get the access?”

“So, funny story. Maddie told you about the place, right?” He turned his head to check your reaction. “Well, I was the one that mentioned that a unit was available when I was complaining about my ex neighbor… So yeah, we are neighbors.”

“You’re annoying, you know that, right?”

“I thought Maddie told you.”

Well, she almost did, but she was interrupted by your neighbor himself that night. Shit.

“For how long did you know this?” You pointed to the garage and between you two.

“For a few weeks, when I saw your car after the cupcake incident.”

“I pledge the fifth.” You disconnected your phone from his car. Well, it would only get awkward if you walked to your apartment in complete silence, so you asked, “Wait, so you were texting and calling me from across the hall? You’re unbelievable.”

“What? If I knock on your door, you’ve got a restraining order against me.”

You left the car at the same time, and walked to the elevators.

“I bet I could convince Sergeant Grant to arrest you.”

“You’d make her dreams come true.”

Same elevator, same floor. You took opposite directions: his place was to the left, yours to the right, on the corners of the building, just one unit between you. You waved him goodbye and entered your home. To your right, your kitchen and dinner table. The glass doors to your balcony were opened — your mistake when you left in a hurry that morning — and it felt more like home than you expected.

Under the stairs, your notes and books were scattered. Sundays were for studying and writing the thesis. Your gray couch held the books you were searching the other day, too busy to put them back in the high and long bookshelves you had on the wall. Your television was the least used electronic in the place.

You walked upstairs and threw yourself in the bed. Maybe you should’ve picked up his calls before, but now it wasn’t a problem anymore.

author's note: are we watching the beginning of their friendship? I THINK SO! yes, i love a slow burn, but i swear it's gonna be worth it, ok? hope you're enjoying this series as much as i am. also: i published a blurb, so check the series masterlist bc i kinda loved it, not gonna lie. ALSO, my lovely friend, casey, made a playlist for the series. just check the masterlist! see yall next week!