#911 inspired

[hopepaigeturner]

Benophie Week: Day 1

A little excerpt from a fic I'm working on inspired by the show 911...

*~*~*~*~*~*

As Benedict shuffled through his wallet for change, he muttered half-exasperated comments about Anthony, and the divine right of older brothers and all its accompanying annoyances. Due to the frequency of his visits he could direct himself via auto-pilot to the crickety machine that whirred louder than the life-support machines in the hospital. Once he finally scooped together a whopping £1.30 he looked up and halted.

Damn you Anthony.

His most recent comic-book inspiration stood by the vending machine, shifting through her purse. The pretty firefighter. The one who looked beautiful even with soot smudges on her face and a heavy uniform.

His reverie broke when she cursed colourfully and he moved closer. She started to jostle the machine and he noticed a limp looking kitkat teetering on the edge. This close he could smell the scent of her floral shampoo that made her hair shine in her braids—today a pretty half-up-half-down design that Hyacinth typically adored.

Another huff from her reorientated him and he took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up. Anthony’s voice rang in his head,

Just ask the girl for her number—what’s the worst that could happen?

“You know you just need to enter the code again and it should work—”

“I know, I know,” she snapped following his instructions, “This isn’t my first rodeo with this insufferable machine.”

“Tell me about it—they should give us loyalty cards.”

She twisted around and Benedict’s breath caught; at her jade eyes that widened, the wispy curls of her almost-ebony hair and the rouge lipstick on her parted lips. Then his heart plummeted when she continued staring.

Random guy accosts a single woman in an empty hallway—ofcourse the perfect romantic start to a story—

“What level?”

“Huh?”

She swallowed thickly.

“The loyalty cards—are we at bronze, silver or gold?”

Benedict blinked a couple more times, before reanimating. 

“Ugh…would have to say silver.”

“Not gold?” she quirked her eyebrow and something in Benedict settled. 

“I think a month would make it gold.”

“A month? Does it have to be consecutive?”

“To get platinum—absolutely.”

She snorted and he tried to squash a smile.

“You truly believe that you could visit every day for a month?”

“For the right reason.”

She halted and with a sly smile said,

 “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

Damn you, Anthony.

Then again, Anthony didn't know that his most romantic rendezvous were typically the length of one night before he had to sneak out to attend a phone call from his siblings. But ofcourse Anthony didn't know that–not when he'd disappeared onto the plane and left–

Stupid thought. 

Instead, Benedict pivoted.

“Yes—is it working?”

She looked him up and down.

“Well, certainly a unique avenue but…I’m somehow enjoying it.”

A flicker—Benedict latched onto it. He shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t want to turn the charm up too much.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Go on then—” she leant forward and the floral scent almost stalled him. “I fight fires for a living, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Desire rumbled through him and he almost pushed her against the wall right there. Instead he pitched his voice low,

“Alright, get ready—Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” He quirked an eyebrow.

She burst out laughing, her hand on her mouth. The flicker turned into a steady flame.

“You cannot be serious!”

“Deadly—or can’t you handle it?” Benedict said and something flared in her eyes.

"Oh no, no—bring it on,” she challenged as they started walking back down the corridor.

“Let’s see….It’s handy that I have my library card—cause I want to check you out.”

Both of them were too preoccupied with each other to bother navigating the corridors.

“Ooh, so cheesy—I love it.”

“Or…If I could rearrange the alphabet then I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.”

“Ah, the classic.”

“Then ofcourse there’s this golden oldie,” Benedict lounged against the wall. “I’d like to take you to the movies, but they don’t let you bring your own snacks.”

She chuckled through a snort. And Benedict blurted out,

“Or I could just take you on a proper date? Let you continue laughing at me?”

They halted. The girl perused him and Benedict tried to breathe. Her eyes narrowed for a moment then she shrugged.

“Alright then—can I have your number?”

"What…oh right. Right."

"You okay there Don Juan?"

"Yeah, ofcourse. It's just that beautiful girls don't really say yes to me," Benedict blushed bright red at his omission. "Phone?"

"Sure thing," she replied with a little grin and handed over her phone. While Benedict typed in his number he desperately tried to tame his cheeks.

“Ben….Benjamin?” the girl asked, looking at the contact details.

“Benedict.”

“Blessed one…” Benedict noticed her eyes trailed downwards. “Certainly an apt description," she mumbled.

 For once he felt pleased to have left the hoodie behind.

“And you?”

“Sophie, Sophie Beckett—although you probably knew that….night of the fire and all.”

The mantra reared in his head; Your fault, your fault, your fault–

“Wait—you remember me?” he asked. 

It has been atleast a week since he'd watch her carry his siblings out of that burning building. And there has been countless others saved.

“You literally tackled a police officer to get to your siblings.”

“Ah, I see.”

Ofcourse his last name would push to the front.

“Although…professionalism aside—I also thought you were quite cute." She admitted before turning and striding off to the left to see her friend Kate. She called over her shoulder, "I’ll be the lady and let you call me!"

Another swish of her hair and she was gone, leaving Benedict empty handed but full of something he hadn't felt in a very long time…something akin to a flickering flame.

[girldadbuckley]

RYAN GUZMAN's THIGHS as EDDIE DIAZ's THIGHS 9-1-1 S08E06: Confessions

[srdcovka]

wild geese by mary oliver x eddie diaz for @twocutlines

[confessionseddie]

EDDIE’S HANDS in 8.04, “No Place Like Home”

[sharpbutsoft]

when you and your stupid soulmate have stupid matching tattoos

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Oh fuck off this is so evil

[blurredbuddie]

Buck: I-i can't be your first, Eddie. I want to be your last.

Eddie: Well, it's a good thing you weren't my first, Buckley.

Buck:

Eddie:

Buck: I NEED HIS NAME, ADDRESS, OCCUPATION, HEIGHT, HAIR COLOR---

[letbuckfuck]

[chronicowboy]

Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.

Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.

It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.

It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.

"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.

"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.

"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.

"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"

"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.

"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"

"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.

"You just thought..."

"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."

"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.

"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."

"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.

It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.

Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.

Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.

"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."

"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.

And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.

[buckevantommy]

"...he said he hated my 'broody little pout'." Among other things.

"Okay, first of all: your airquotes are adorable."

Buck rolls his eyes but it doesn't dispel the happy glow in his chest whenever Tommy uses that word to describe him.

"And second of all: I hate that he's targeting you. And for one of my favorite things about you fills me with a murderous rage--"

"Well, I might've already killed him, so." And he's conflicted as hell about that.

"Evan." Tommy moves to loop his arms around Buck's waist, drawing him close. "I love your pout. In all its many forms."

Smoothing his hands up Tommy's strong arms, Buck considers this. "How many forms?"

Without missing a beat, Tommy says, "At least fourteen."

Buck peers up at him from under his lashes, letting his lips purse.

"Ah, number eleven. Curiosity masking as annoyed, with a smidge of horny."

Buck blinks. "How did you-"

Tommy kisses the rest of his question away with a soft smooch.

"What number is broody?"

"Five. Actually, there's 5a and 5b. 5a is jealous broody, 5b is--"

He thought Tommy was joking, but.. "Wait, you really noticed all that stuff?"

"Of course." Said like it's the easiest thing in the world.

It's Buck's turn to kiss him about it.

[daily-ethoslab]

[911] Ethos comment about being a lost puppy gave me this idea

[like-the-rest-of-la]

[Quick 1 1/2-hour Eddie study]

[lavenderleahy]

Yeah yeah yeah tommy's letting buck set the pace but it's he who does it. It's tommy who says I love you first. Buck is scared, a little, or at least overthinking it. He remembers how he rushed moving in with Taylor, trusted Natalia too quickly, loved Abby too intensely. He's waiting for.... well, he's waiting to make sure tommy is in this as much as he is.

And tommy, well tommy is being fucking patient and it's driving him nuts. He wants to be respectful and let buck set the pace, but he knows almost immediately that buck is it for him. At 45, he has a string of failed relationships and a lifetime of regrets behind him. He no longer wants to wait and beat around the bush - they say "when you know, you know," and tommy knows.

But months pass, and nothing. Not even a whisper of those three words tommy so desperately wants to hear. And then his birthday arrives. Tommy walks through the doors to his home after a shift, ready to throw his bag down and relax. He and Buck have plans to celebrate in a few days when their days off align, so tommy isn't planning on celebrating. But when he enters his living room after chucking off his LAFD jacket, he finds Buck, standing and waiting with a huge smile on his face and a balloon in his hand.

"Happy birthday, babe," Buck says as a greeting.

Tommy walks into Buck's arms, accepting the hug he is given. He's flabbergasted and stunned speechless. Buck hands him a giftbag, and he opens it. Inside are some of his favorite things. A box of earl grey tea, a book about military choppers, two cans of lime la croix, a giant snicker's bar, and a bag of seasoned pretzels.

"This isn't your full present yet," Buck explains. "I know we're celebrating later, but I couldn't let today go by without...."

He's unable to finish because Tommy sets down the bag, takes Buck's face in his hands, and kisses him. When he pulls back, he stares at his boyfriend's face in awe. "I love you," he says.

His heart catches in his throat. He didn't mean to say it out loud - the words just slipped out. But his terror is short lived when he notices that Buck is not as freaked out as he is; in fact, he's not freaked out at all.

Buck's face is full of relief, and he smiles. "I love you too," he responds, and pulls him in for another kiss.

[miriellesandthegiantpeach]

Curls | Bucktommy

In the bathroom, Buck is grimacing in the mirror, swiping his hands back and forth over his freshly cut hair. His eyebrows are furrowed with indecision; was this a good idea? He hears the front door open.

“Evan? Where are you?” Tommy voices rings out.

“Up here,” Buck calls back, he closes the bathroom door most of the way before Tommy gets up there.

“Oh there you are, what are you doing?” Tommy tries to push open the door but Buck stops him.

“I got a haircut from the place Hen suggested. You’re not allowed to laugh, okay?” Buck’s voice is hesitant.

“I promise I won’t laugh, did they botch it?” Tommy replies with total sincerity. This time Tommy can open the door and step into the bathroom. He examines Buck’s hair, very relieved it actually isn’t botched or a buzzcut.

Tommy takes it in and can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips. His boyfriend looks damn fine; curls in full force and not reigned in like how Buck usually styles it. The hairdresser added a fade making his neck look a lot longer.

“What? It’s awful. Your silence is making me nervous,” Buck rambles out.

Reaching a hand up, Tommy carefully pinches a wild curl and is surprised how soft it is, not at all crunchy with gel. His hand slides down to touch the equally soft hair on the back of his head. He absolutely loves it. “It’s definitely not awful. I always love your curls, babe. I like seeing your natural hair be free for once, and it’s so soft too. You look really really hot actually. It’s trendy for sure, but not in a bad way.”

Buck is still frowning at the mirror and rubs his fingers on the side of his face. “She even shaved off my sideburns,” he pouts and Tommy laughs.

“They will grow back in no time.” He wraps his arms around Buck’s waist and rests his chin on Buck's shoulder, watching him still fuss with his hair. “You know, it does make you look undeniably not straight, if that’s what you were going for.”

”Not really my intention, but I mean I’m not, so I guess it works?” Buck huffs drops his hands. “I’m itching for my gel, I feel so naked without it.”

“Don’t you dare. It’s just new, it’ll grow on you.” Tommy smiles, catching Buck's eyes in the mirror.

“Hey, what about your natural curls, huh? I don't see you easing up on the hair products.” Buck turns his head to look at Tommy.

“Shhh we're not talking about me right now,” Tommy replies and slides a hand up to cup Buck's jaw and kiss his lips. “I'm sure there's something in the pilot handbook about hair regulations,” he mumbles against Buck's mouth then promptly leaves him in the bathroom.

When Buck walks into work the next day he’s greeted with a wolf whistle from Hen, “Damn, Buck! I knew my girl would make you look fresh! You’re looking damn fine.” And he can’t help but smile at the praise. He gets compliments and light teasing from the rest of the crew. Maybe he can live with it.

One of their calls is at the famous gay night club, The Abbey, in Santa Monica. One of the cages that the dancers was in fell with the dancer trapped inside of it. Buck and Eddie had to break out the saw to get the dancer out, luckily he walked away with minor injuries.

They attracted a small crowd of the other dancers- all in skimpy speedo like underwear. Most of them had their eyes on Buck, giving him flirty compliments and asking if he’s ever been there. At first Buck was confused why he was getting most of the attention from these objectively hot men, especially when Eddie and his stache was right there.

Oh right, the hair, he thinks. The ‘undeniably not straight’ hair style he is sporting right now. He couldn’t help feeling a small blush creep into his cheeks.

His attention gets pulled back to one of the dancers, “Are you single? I know it’s really forward of me, but I thought I’d shoot my shot.” At least he’s polite about blatantly hitting on him.

“Oh wow I’m really flattered but yeah, I am taken,” Buck says proudly. He takes out his phone and shows the dancer and his friends his phone lock screen - a selfie of him and Tommy from one of their recent dates. Buck is laughing and Tommy is smirking at the camera with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Oh my God! I know that guy! That’s Mr. August from the 2019 LAFD calendar! I’ll never forget that year,” one of the dancers muses.

“Lucky bastard,” another one says to Buck, which makes his smile grow wider.

Tommy’s phone pings with a picture from Chimney, which there is no doubt this was his idea. It’s of Buck in the middle of a row of speedo clad club dancers. He doesn’t have his jacket on, so it’s just the fire T-shirt with red and yellow suspenders and the turn out pants. He’s holding an ax resting on his shoulder with the cockiest look he could muster; a sexy smirk on his lips with his left eyebrow cocked. The dancers around him are all looking at him, hamming it up for the picture acting like he’s the hottest thing on earth. Tommy couldn’t agree more and immediately makes it his phone background.

Yeah, the hair is growing on Buck.

[xofemeraldstars]

AAAAAAAAAAH

[lezarus]

feminist women love evan buckley!

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