#Bucktommy
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everybody say thank you lou 😏
#i hate colouring this scene and giffing this scene in general because of.. you know. so this will have to do#my gifs#lou ferrigno jr#911#911 abc#911 8x06#tommy kinard#bucktommy
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✦ Y-Y-You threw in with us, no hesitation, and I thought, "Wow. That guy is cool. I like that guy." ✦ With Tommy…I don't know. He's so confident, you know? He's interesting. He has a cleft. ✦ I kind of can't stop thinking about him. ✦
↳ how tommy sees himself vs how buck sees him
#tim minear *slaps car roof* i can fit so much self loathing in this bad boy#911 abc#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#tevan#911edit#911blr#mine
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ok i've calmed down. i'm just gonna sit here and appreciate the fact that lou came back to confirm
that tommy loves buck!!!! tommy loves evan!!!!
that he hated 8x06 as much as we did huh! as politely as possible he said the writing sucked. he said he's not satisfied with where he's leaving tommy..... neither are we!!!!!!!
that no one has any fucking idea what's going on, actors aren't told shit, they are given the least amount of heads up possible before going to film. cool. incredible way to run a show. /s
the little smile and "what's up" was tommy sending buck the dtf signals.......quickie before movie CANON!
it's not fucking over. "tommy did bubble buck" he literally says tommy is still around! tommy is not going anywhere!!!!!! HE WANTS TO COME BACK!!!!!!!!
and dropped the fact that THERE'S A DELETED "CUTE LITTLE" SCENE WITH BUCK AND TOMMY IN THE CAR WHEN THEY LEAVE THE CEMETERY IN 8X05??????? TIM MINEAR I AM IN YOUR WALLS.
i love him so fucking much. thank you for my life mr junior
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I forgot I made a continuation of this post for myself. Might as well post it I guess
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Part One
Part Two
They make it past the second six months.
It's agonizing. It's wonderful. Tommy wants to scream.
"Why are you calling it your six month anniversary?" Hen asks, with a quirked brow, eyeing them both from across the twelve-top they'd scooped up (and modified under the careful scrutiny of the curmudgeonly bartender Joe) early.
Tommy's glad his hand is under the table. The nervous habit of running a thumb along the underside of his empty ring finger would be the kind of thing Hen notices.
"You don't just get a Mulligan on the first six."
It's been a year and a half since Tommy met Evan Buckley. Over, actually, since Evan had just gone a little insane instead of taking a step back to examine his feelings, at the start. It always makes Tommy wonder exactly how much he'd examined those first days with Eddie. He's heard the story, clips of it, bits and pieces scattered between everyone Evan knows, and he wonders if Evan will ever come to the conclusion that he'd had virtually the same reaction to Eddie, back at the beginning. It's settled, now. They are firm in their friendship, and any attraction that might be there isn't simmering under the surface waiting to blindside Tommy. But he wonders sometimes if Evan won't just bolt up in bed ten years from now to shake Tommy awake and tell him he'd had a crush on Eddie.
Ten years?
Christ.
If Evan ever knew how many times the future popped into his mind like a jump scare, he'd -
They're far past the deadline for annulment. At this point they're at "split the assets before you go". Can't quite talk your way out of a committed relationship six months post-marriage.
Neither one of them has brought it up, and Tommy is getting great at pretending like it's not a scythe shifting closer and closer every time the pendulum swings past him.
Evan tosses a balled up napkin at Hen and sticks out his tongue, and before she can do more than scowl there are five more people flooding through the door behind them to shout congratulations and drop into their seats to gossip.
---
Hiding it becomes a moot point. He's had it in his head this whole time that if it were to get out, it would definitely be Evan's fault.
The universe does enjoy a twist
He'd gotten a jumbled text from Evan mid-flight, and a more coherent one from Eddie when his captain asked him to turn the bird around and land, and he's a bundle of nerves as he spills through the barely open doors of the elevator and spots the rest of the 118 looking concerned off in the corner of the waiting room.
Eddie catches him first. Spots the look on his face and makes a valiant attempt to explain, to soothe his worry, but there's a nurse rounding a corner and all Tommy has gotten to this point is <Buck's being transported to Good Samaritan. He's stable but you should come.>
He's kind of an ass about it. He'll regret it later when she narrows her eyes and reminds him visiting hours have ended. He'll shoot back with the same shit he's gearing himself up for in this moment and they'll reach a detente.
"Evan Buckley. Do you have any new information?"
She eyes the flight suit he hadn't bothered to take off before booking it to his truck. Tilts her gaze behind him, to the 118, and maybe that's what does it. The idea that they're any more family than he is. "We'll inform family immediately with any updates."
Tommy can see Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, but all he's thinking about is the hundreds of moments Evan's smile has left him breathless, all the promises they'd made each other that night with the neon lights of Vegas spurring them on.
"Seeing as I'm his husband, I'd like a full update. Now."
He regrets it the moment the words are out of his mouth. Not just because he's being a complete fucking dickhead about it, either.
The pendulum gets its first taste of blood and swings away again.
---
Evan grins at him. He's bruised and bandaged and high as a kite, and he's so fucking beautiful it nearly takes Tommy out at the knees. Thankfully he's already sitting.
Perched on a chair close enough to the bed that he's annoyed an orderly, a doctor, and two nurses, hand curled over Evan's in the bed, he's just finished confessing he can't keep a secret for shit and Evan is smiling at him.
The rest of the 118 is still waiting outside. He'd let Maddie go first, so it's likely Evan already knew this tidbit, but it doesn't hurt to be honest. Or so he's learning.
"You love me," Evan sing-songs.
Tommy sucks his lips behind his teeth to hide his grin. Blows out a breath. "So you're not upset?"
He looks - momentarily shifty. "Uh - don't be mad."
Tommy quirks a brow.
"It's - okay so you know how we have to update all our medical information every year for the insurance?" Tommy nods. Licks his lips. "Um."
The next sentence is a garbled rush. Tommy gets 'power' and 'just in case' and nothing else. "Say again?"
"I... Uh. I updated my forms."
That paperwork was due about two months after the Vegas trip.
"To... Just in case I was incapacitated, I wanted to make sure..."
"Evan," Tommy presses.
"You have, uh. Power of attorney. And you're listed as next of kin with Maddie. Just. Just in case."
It should freak the hell out of him. It should make him question everything they've been doing, with the open honesty crap, for the last eight months.
"I want a divorce," Tommy says, and then grimaces. "Shit, that's not what I - ." And Evan's grin gets wider. Like he knows. Like he understands. Like everything they've been building and breaking and rebuilding for the last almost two years has actually made him an expert at interpreting Tommy when he doesn't have the right words in the right order.
"Gonna need that ring you've got hidden in your moms music box," Evan says, and then someone is rapping impatiently at the door Tommy shut behind him as he practically shoved past Maddie to get to him. "I get to propose this time." Tommy bites back a choked laugh while half the 118 spill into the room to whisper-yell at them both.
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↳ 911 7.04 | 8.06 buck: compliments tommy tommy: well this doesn't seem right
#no because even the last one where he's smiling he can barely look buck in the eyes!#brb need to go walk into the sea#911 abc#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#lou ferrigno jr#911edit#911blr#mine
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So we all agree Tommy thought Evan wanted a quickie before the movie right
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I feel like Lou Ferrigno Jr is the ideal actor to interview because not only is he so fucking polite but he compliments the interviewer saying "what a great question" and gives SUCH insightful answers and you can tell how much he loves his work and his characters (especially Tommy) and he cares about the fans and he's just so fucking honest and I just love this man so much
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Even if they give Buck other LI’s, they will never hold a candle to the bucktommy magic. If Tommy doesn’t come back, he will forever haunt the narrative. They created the perfect partner for Buck and expect us to settle for anything less?
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CUTE LITTLE SCENE IN THE CAR?????
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Part One
They don't tell anyone. Not about the marriage certificate, at least. Buck comes back from his conference with a new-old boyfriend and money exchanges hands despite protest from the losers that Bobby had inside knowledge.
(He did not.)
They put the rings away. They talk a bunch of shit out that they'd only skimmed the surface of on the patio of that dingy bar.
Buck buys him that beer.
Finally.
Things are - things aren't easy. Buck skips ahead in his own mind and desperately backpedals before Tommy notices (he hopes). Tommy continues to be tight lipped about things, goes with the flow more often than he should and absolutely hates being called out about it.
Eddie is slow to readjust to having Tommy back in their lives.
With Chris back, he swears up and down he believes Buck that they're both serious about this, but he invites Tommy over less, doesn't involve him in Chris's life as often. Buck tries desperately not to let Eddie's hesitancy inform any of the feelings bubbling in his chest, any of the half-formed futures in his head.
Bobby calls Tommy and they go out for coffee and Tommy spends a week pretending to be so fucking fine about whatever they talked about that Buck starts baking again.
Tommy's abs get a little less defined.
Buck takes him to a gay bar, because they never did that before, never explored anything that wasn't just the two of them, never talked about the community or the history or the impact of being queer. The first time someone approaches their spot at the corner of the bar, Tommy seems to be trying incredibly hard not to read into any of the reactions Buck is having, and failing miserably.
But the thing is. The thing is Buck did this on his own. Petty, unhappy, Tommy's words swirling in his head, he's tried a few dozen times to find another person remotely as appealing as the one at his side, and they'd all fallen short.
When the guy asks Buck if he wants to dance Buck blurts out words before he can think about it that he's absolutely certain are gonna send Tommy spiraling. "Appreciate the offer, but I'm here with my husband. We're celebrating."
The guy blinks. He's young. Younger than Buck, slim and attractive, dark brown eyes and light brown skin that glows golden even in the crappy bar lighting. His gaze darts almost eagerly between them, like he's seeing something he hadn't expected. Something hopeful blooms in his gaze, and Buck - oh.
Buck gets it.
That's a lot of weight to carry just for existing in the world and trying to snatch some happiness from it.
Buck smooths a hand over Tommy's knee and smiles at him, something soft and settled that has been harder to find this time around but still curls up against his spine like it belongs there.
The kid buys them a round and leaves.
"What are we celebrating?" Tommy asks, and Buck pretends not to notice the way his thumb is rubbing over the bare patch of skin where Buck had slid a ring, a few months ago. He's not freaking.
"Whatever we want," Buck says with a shrug, and doesn't mention that neither one of them have brought up the marriage certificate tucked away in Tommy's safe since they got back from Vegas.
---
"The Abby thing is still weird," Buck says, breath heaving as Tommy rearranges Buck's legs and tucks himself into Buck's side. They'd spent an evening talking candidly about their exes because Buck can't understand how they went six months without realizing.
Tommy's hands shift through the hair Buck stopped shaving the first time Tommy admitted he preferred it to the baby smooth skin Buck had tried desperately to maintain for the first four months. It's just now feeling normal, after so many years of keeping it smooth.
"I think she'd freak more than you did."
"I managed to implode a six month relationship with my freak, Tommy."
Tommy chuffs a laugh. Slides his calf up and down Buck's lower leg, and despite the fact that Buck has a few more notches in his belt that'd had that same scritch of hair against his, Buck relishes the feel just because it's Tommy.
"You had help." He pauses, though, tips his chin and tucks it against the give of Buck's shoulder. "I'm not implying her reaction was particularly homophobic, but - I think that was the worst part, for her. The fact that I hadn't just lied about how I felt. It was - she assumed I couldn't feel it."
Buck can't help the brow raise. "Tommy, you're a Kinsey six."
"I still loved her."
He's been working his way through romantic vs sexual vs platonic and learning a whole hell of a lot in the process. He gets Tommy's point. He's thrilled that Tommy is still in a sharing mood. It's just -
Tommy shifts, noses into Buck's underarm. Breathes deep, and Buck has to fight the urge to shove him away.
"If I'm totally off base here tell me, but I think you loved her like I love Eddie."
Tommy narrows his eyes. Contemplates. "Tell me again how jealous of his hair you were when you met," he decides on, and shrieks when Buck digs a finger into his ribs in retaliation.
---
They fight, and it's thrilling.
They never did that before. Minced their words and apologized and let it all drop away but never actually let it go, and when Tommy gets on a roll he's bitchy as hell. It drives Buck insane. He wants to wring his fucking neck. He wants to take him to the mat and actually learn enough about Muay Thai to stand a chance lasting two minutes. He wants to throw him against a wall and jack him off until he sees stars.
"He wouldn't do the same for me, Evan, so why should I bother?!"
Tommy's dad is dying. According to Tommy, it's days or weeks, not months or years, and Tommy had said it so emotionless that Buck had jokingly tried to check him for panels and plugs and wiring. Tommy hadn't appreciated the robot joke.
"Screw your dad, Tommy! Do it for yourself."
"I'm not like you, Evan! That bridge burned a decade ago. I don't need - ." He pinches the bridge of his nose. Grimaces and sucks in a breath. Usually that means he's yanking back words he knows he'll regret. Rearranging them in his mind until they're less likely to sting. "I don't want a death bed reconciliation any more than I want to be proven right about him."
Buck takes two weeks off to help Tommy plan the funeral.
Tommy tosses the contents of the urn into the ocean two weeks later, and when Buck asks about it, Tommy gives him a shifty look, like he thinks the answer might send Buck running. "He hated the ocean."
It's the last time they talk about his dad, for a while.
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can we talk about how this is the face tommy makes when buck says their relationship has been the most transformative of his life? he looks so confused by the idea that buck might think he's something special.
#lfj when i catch you#saw this whilst i was getting screencaps for a different set#and i think i need to go lie down now#911 abc#bucktommy#evan buckley#tommy kinard#lou ferrigno jr
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very demure and very mindful journalism happening over at collider.com
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(@ AO3. Bucktommy mpreg, cos that's what we're doing now lmao)
There’s no nausea.
No bolting from the kitchen when Melton insists on heating his tuna salad.
No tears, no emotional outbursts, nothing to tip Tommy off until the bell rings and he jumps off his seat, only to have his vision go white and the world tilt into darkness.
He wakes to Lucy taking his blood pressure; to his Captain, of all people, holding his legs up in her lap.
Tommy closes his eyes, swallowing the embarrassment.
.
He thought it was exhaustion.
Tommy knew he shouldn’t–
He caused this.
Ev– Buck had looked at him, all wide smiles and stars in his eyes, and he had gotten up and left, absolutely terrified in the face of the other’s worship.
So, when he began to have trouble sleeping, lost his appetite, began to isolate–
He deserved it. That was punishment.
The results in his shaky hands feel worse than that.
“Mr. Kinard?” Tommy barely reacts besides looking up at the nurse. She smiles back, not unlike a sympathetic wince. “Is there anyone you would like me to call?”
Tommy ought to say no.
He nods instead.
.
The bench is warm from the sun. It could be enough to ward off the chill that seemed to seep into his bones.
It’s not.
Someone comes to a stop beside him. They wait for a beat before they sit, knee knocking into his. “Hey.”
To his horror, Tommy feels tears flood his vision. “Hey.”
Eddie frowns, leaning forward in his seat to try and catch Tommy’s gaze. He looks concerned yet wary, watching him so closely Tommy feels like his skin is being peeled back. “I was surprised when the hospital called me.” He said, eyes flickering between Tommy’s face and the envelope in his hands. “I thought you had changed your emergency contact to…”
Tommy tries not to wince as Eddie trails off. “I nearly did.” He sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. “Had the paperwork filled and everything, but then I thought I wouldn’t want a stranger to tell him I’d died, so.” He shrugs.
“You added me?”
Tommy nods. “Yeah.”
Eddie is silent for a bit before saying, “Well, you’re a fucking asshole.” And Tommy lets a laugh, closely resembling a sob. “Cos I wouldn’t want that either.”
“Sorry. I should probably change it–”
“Don’t you dare,” Eddie glares before his eyes flicker to the envelope again. “Is that what this is? Are you–?”
“Dying?” Tommy asks and Eddie nods, face resolute. He shakes his head, “Not any more than the regular living being.” Before the other can ask, he offers him the envelope.
Eddie hesitates, however. “Are you sure?”
“I, uh.” And Tommy is back to blinking back tears, trying to focus on anything other than whatever his life is at the moment. “I don’t know what to do.” He confesses. “For the first time since I left the military, I’m truly at a loss, Eddie, and I know, I know I hurt Buck and that he certainly got you in the divorce, but. I, uh. I don’t have many friends. I didn’t know who else to talk to.”
Concerned, and more than a little curious, Eddie carefully extracts the envelope from Tommy’s shaky fingers. They’re both silent save for the sound of paper rustling and Tommy feels his heart leap into his throat the moment Eddie seems to stop breathing beside him. “Tommy.”
“My parents got me tested as a child. I believed the paperwork– I never thought to check.”
“You shouldn’t have had to,” Eddie tries to soothe, reaching out to curl a hand around one of Tommy’s wrists.
“I’m forty-one years old,” Tommy chokes out, tears finally falling onto his jeans. He stares as the droplets soak into the fabric. “I don’t– I never expected this .”
Eddie’s face becomes a complicated mess. “Well, if you’re having unprotected sex, what did you expect? A flatscreen?” He backpedals quickly when Tommy stands, ripping his wrist out of his hand. “I’m sorry– I’m trying to lighten the mood–”
“Very fucking poorly–”
“I know, it sounded better in my head– Whoa.”
Tommy blinks and he’s back on the bench, lightheaded. “Oh, uh. Thanks.”
Eddie’s staring at him, the paramedic in him alert. “What else did the nurses tell you?”
“Uh. To set up an appointment with an Ob-Gyn. To– To eat, yeah. My glucose’s low.”
And Eddie just keeps on staring, eyes narrowing. “And they didn’t give you anything while you were inside?” When Tommy shakes his head, he visibly bites back a curse. “Well, c’mon then. I know a place with the best breakfast burritos in the whole of LA.” Eddie pauses, then leans in. “Don’t tell Abuela.”
.
Tommy begins to feel normal around the last mouthful of his second burrito, sighing almost obscenely at the mix of salsa, cheesy eggs, and sausage invading his palate.
The cilantro alone could drag a moan out of him.
He hates cilantro.
It tastes like soap.
(It tastes like heaven.)
Eddie watches him with thinly veiled amusement, sipping at his latte and pushing his last burrito toward Tommy. “You look like you haven’t seen food in weeks.”
Tommy shrugs, already biting into the offered treat. “Haven’t had much appetite, to be honest. Since.”
They fall silent then, sitting in the bed of Eddie’s truck somewhere along the coast. “Why did you do it?” Eddie eventually caves, asking the question that Tommy’s certain had been burning at the tip of his tongue since he got the call. “Buck’s been miserable, and you, well.” He snorts. “You look like roadkill.”
“Hm, flatterer.”
“And you’re an expert at deflecting. Trust me, takes one to know one.” Eddie takes another sip of his coffee. After so long with a fuzzy caterpillar on his lip, he looks strange bare-faced. “Spill.”
Tommy returns his gaze to his food. “I’m sure Buck has told you everything there is to know.”
“From his point of view, yeah. I want to know yours, too. I’m sure you had a reason.” When Tommy stares at him in wonder, Eddie shrugs self-consciously. “I’m not saying I agree with what you did or why you did it– I’m sure your reasoning’s absolute horse shit. Just that it probably made sense to you.”
Picking at the frayed edges of the paper wrap, Tommy considers his words before, “He asked me to move in.”
“I know.”
“He never even told me he loved me.”
Eddie pauses and lowers his styrofoam cup. “Ever?”
Tommy shakes his head, letting out a humorless chuckle. “He found out about Abby and pulled away. Next thing I know, I’m knocking on his door for date night and he’s talking about how confident I am, about how I’m an inspiration for him. Then, he asks me to move in.” Appetite forgotten, he re-wraps the burrito and sets it aside. Picks up his chamomile tea and makes a show of blowing on it, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. “It hit me then that he was infatuated by the Tommy in his head, not me.” He snorts humorlessly. “I barely came out four years ago, Eddie. I’m not confident, I’m just a coward, but Ev– Buck? He has been cruising ahead, speedrunning through his queer experience and I just. I couldn’t keep up anymore.
Tommy sips at his tea and burns the tip of his tongue. He continues. “I realized I had fallen in love with someone who was attracted to a polished, sanitized version of me. I couldn’t– I wanted to say yes. For a second, he asked me to move in, and Eddie, I was so happy. But then reality came crashing down and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take that leap.”
“So, you broke it off.”
Tommy nodded. “Better to do it now and survive the hurt than to have to restart my life when Buck eventually sees all of me and realizes he made a mistake.” He sniffs and mentally blames it on the sea breeze. “I wouldn’t survive it.”
They fall silent again but then Eddie is snorting, shaking his head. “You’re both absolute imbéciles.”
“I know just enough Spanish to know you’re insulting me.”
“Oh, I am, rest assured.” Eddie throws back the last of his coffee before he sets the cup aside. “Buck was, well. Buck. Steamrolling ahead, as usual, I get that, but you? You self-sabotaged, man.”
“I looked out for myself. Maybe that’s selfish–”
“A little bit, yeah. At the same time, it’s self-preservation. Can we blame a hurt animal for lashing out?”
“Therapy is doing you wonders, huh.”
“Yeah, maybe you should consider it.” Eddie bit back. “Point is– You both need to sit down and talk. Tell him what you told me.”
“He needs to know what’s out there, to know for sure what he wants or if this was just some, some bi-curious experiment –”
“Shut the fuck up.” Eddie cut in, finally mad. “I’ve known Buck for a very long time, now, and I can tell you that this is the most settled and sure of himself he has ever been. You’re scared, and I get that, but don’t talk like he’s not a thirty-three-year-old adult, capable of knowing what he wants.”
That shuts Tommy right up and he looks away again, gripping his cup hard enough that some of the tea spills out onto his fingers. He focuses on the scorch rather than the glare burning into the side of his face. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s done. We’re done.”
“Not if you reach out to him, especially now.”
Tommy flinches so violently he physically recoils. “No, most definitely not now .” He spats, suddenly angry. Is it the implication, the tone of voice? And from Eddie, no less, for so long defined by the surprise of parenthood. “What are you suggesting here, man? That I– that I trap–”
He can’t say it.
If he says it, it becomes true, doesn’t it?
Eddie, however, has no such qualms. “I’m not suggesting anything, Tommy.” He softens before delivering the blow. “You’re pregnant. You just found out. No one’s baby-trapping anyone.”
“But that’s what’ll happen.” Tommy chokes out and he realizes that the feeling that had lodged itself in his throat since his test results came back was anxiety. “Evan has always wanted a family. He’ll want to be there, every step of the way. He’ll feel obligated, Eddie.”
“And that’s bad, why?” Eddie wonders. “Are you afraid he’ll resent you for some reason or are you afraid you won’t be able to keep up the walls you built around your heart?”
“Both.”
“Talk to him.”
“I don’t know if I should. Not yet.” At the other’s frown, Tommy is quick to explain. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell him– I know I have to. It’s only right and I will do it, but.” He pauses, looking away. He eyes the tide. “There might not even be a baby by the end of the week.”
“Don’t say that–”
“It’s a geriatric pregnancy, Eddie. Never mind genetic disorders, miscarriage rates are through the roof. Know what else is through the roof? My blood pressure.”
“I know, I saw your results. That doesn’t mean there isn’t hope.” Eddie argues, then pauses, considering. “I mean. Do you even want this?”
Tommy stares at him, trying to think of an answer before settling on, “I don’t know.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not saying– I really don’t know. I didn’t even know I was a carrier. It feels like this is a hypothetical situation happening to a hypothetical Tommy, only at the end of forty weeks a whole human will burst out of me, and I will be responsible for them for the rest of my life.”
Eddie’s silent, watching him, before he scoots closer and asks in a soft tone, “Are you scared?”
“I’m terrified.”
And Tommy sobs.
.
By the time his first appointment arrives, Tommy still hasn’t been able to tell Evan.
He keeps staring at their messages, starts to type even, but then– deflates.
What could he even say?
‘Hey, I’m pregnant. Can we talk?’ No, too direct.
‘Hi. We need to talk.’ Too catastrophic, Evan would spiral– not exactly the vibe he wants to go for.
Should he try a meme?
Before Tommy can decide, he’s called by a nurse and soon enough he’s lying on a stretcher, getting cold gel poured on his abs and being prodded in the bladder with the stick from hell.
They’re hard to find because of his muscle mass and so, so tiny but they’re there, wiggling in the small monitor.
He's eight weeks pregnant.
He's due in the summer.
(He hopes with all his heart he gets that far.)
When he can finally pull his pants back up, his eyes are red and swollen, and the fast drumming of a tiny heart keeps echoing in his ears, two printed sonograms in his hands. One, Tommy will keep.
The other, he will give it to Evan.
He schedules his next appointment before he leaves, unaware of Maddie Buckley-Han’s narrow-eyed gaze locked onto him.
.
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
Tommy rolls his eyes, elbows deep in soapy water. “Am I?”
Eddie takes the bait, narrowing his eyes. “I did you a favor by taking his phone away. Or would you have been ready to talk to Buck had he called you today?”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
“–You’re a bit of a bitch, anyone ever told you that?”
“Hm. What was it you said the other day? Takes one to know one?”
Eddie tips his beer towards him, trying not to grin. “Touché.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the sound of rinsing dishes and pages being turned. When Eddie closes the small notebook and Tommy wipes his hands on a rag, he asks, “So, what’s the prognosis, doc?”
Eddie mock glares at him, poking the rows of neat results Tommy diligently writes down every day. “All good, so far. Blood pressure seems to fluctuate a bit, but nothing too serious. Glucose levels could use some work, however.”
At the other’s pointed stare, Tommy crumbles. “ You keep bringing me banana bread.”
“I am not physically capable of eating all the loaves Buck thrusts my way–”
“Then why bring them to me if you’re gonna bitch at me for my sugar levels?”
“Cos, I keep expecting you to take them with you to Harbor, not eat them all!”
“Since you began bringing me these, toasted banana bread is literally all I can think about. Nothing else compares. Do not fucking judge me, Diaz–”
“– What in the actual flying fuck .”
Tommy does not think.
One moment he’s arguing with his friend, the next he has a frying pan in hand, ready to face the intruder that had made his way into his house with nothing but cast iron and Muay Thai.
Ev– Buck just stands there, eyes flickering between the pan and Tommy and Eddie. He narrows his eyes, nostrils flaring, and repeats, “What the fuck .”
“How did you get in?” Eddie asks, looking like a deer in headlights.
“Still have a key. Why are you here?”
Eddie seems to take a second to formulate a reply before what escapes him is, “Why can’t I be here?”
“Oh boy,” Tommy murmurs, lowering the pan.
“Why can’t– What – He broke my heart –!”
“And he was my friend first, or did you forget you nearly broke my ankle over his dick –”
“Guys–” Tommy tries to interrupt but quickly shuts his mouth, being glared at by the other two.
“You know I’ve been wanting to reach out,” Buck argues, shaking the phone in his hand for good measure. “You wouldn’t let me! You never even told me you kept in touch!”
“What would you have done if I had?” Eddie barks back. “I couldn’t even say his name the first week because you would pout and scowl your way into a corner!”
“I do not pout,” Evan snaps, bottom lip jutting out in what was clearly a pout.
Nerves fraying, and frankly growing tired of all the shouting in his own goddamn house, Tommy bangs the pan down on the countertop with finality. The others instantly shut up, eyeing him and the potential weapon warily. “Buck,” He tries not to wince at the glare now turned on him. “Why are you here?”
Buck hesitates, looking between him and Eddie before he seemingly decides his best friend can wait to receive a piece of his mind. To Tommy's confusion, he walks further into the kitchen and then rounds the island, stopping and staring at him rather than using his words.
Tommy shifts, uncomfortable and feeling more exposed under Buck's scrutinizing gaze than he ever felt while naked with the other man. Eventually, the other’s entire posture shifts and, to Tommy’s surprise, goes soft . “–You look so tired .”
“Uh. Thanks?” Tommy tries to laugh it off, exchanging a confused look with Eddie.
Then, Buck pulls the rug out from under him. “Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”
Tommy stares, stunned into silence while Eddie lets out a small sigh.
He thinks of deflecting. Of making a joke, throwing in a finger gun or two, but his body betrays him, refusing to let him run.
He's frozen and clammy and Evan's eyes are so sad –
He nearly misses the stool behind him.
There are voices around him, but they're garbled– it feels like there is cotton in his ears, in his brain, he can't think . There's only all-consuming anxiety.
–And pain.
Oh shit, there's pain –
Tommy hisses, pulling back from the knuckles digging into his sternum. “Sorry,” Eddie apologizes, not sorry at all, eyeing him carefully. Tommy slowly becomes aware of his other hand, tightly wrapped around his wrist with a thumb pressing into his pulse point. “You okay?”
“How did you know?” Tommy asks instead, looking over Eddie's shoulder at Buck.
Buck fidgets, looking like he wants to shove Eddie aside and take over. “Maddie's pregnant,” he explains. “You share the same obstetrician.”
Tommy sighs with his whole body, feeling the sting of frustrated tears at the corner of his eyes. Of course, he thinks. Los Angeles and they just had to share the same doctor.
Nothing could ever be easy for Tommy.
“I didn't know you were a carrier.” Buck continues.
Tommy huffs out a weak laugh, watching Eddie as he pulls back and goes fishing for his blood pressure monitor. He couldn't look Evan in the eyes anymore. “Neither did I until– until .”
“When did you find out?”
“Two weeks and four days ago,” Tommy replies almost automatically. Should Buck ask, he could even give him the time.
(One tends to remember every detail when one's life fundamentally changes.)
(Thirty-eight past eight in the morning. Tuesday. It was sunny, as it often is in LA.)
“When did Eddie know?” Buck asks, and ah. He’s angry. He’s pissed, in fact.
Tommy closes his eyes and rubs his face with both hands, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyeballs until he sees stars. “I’m sorry,” He eventually mumbles. “He’s– He’s my emergency contact. I didn’t know who else to call after.”
He feels rather than sees Buck sit on the stool beside his. “You could have called me .”
Tommy looks up then, squinting at the other as his eyes clear up. “Would you have picked up?” He asks, beginning to match Buck’s resentment. “Had I called you two weeks ago, would you have taken it?”
Buck holds his gaze for a beat, then two, before he finally looks away, anger fading partially into resignation. “I don’t know.”
“There’s your answer, then.”
“I still deserved to know.” Tommy scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head, but Buck doesn’t let up. “Or didn’t I? Cos the timeline– It’s mine, right?”
“Wow,” Tommy stands then, trying and failing to hide the hurt the question caused. He vaguely hears Eddie mutter a soft ‘ dios mio ’ to their left. “I– Wow .”
Buck seems to realize his mistake as he quickly jumps to his feet as well, eyes wide. “Not– Not that I’m implying–”
“Well, you just fucking did .”
“I’m sorry,” Buck continues, visibly upset. “I didn’t mean– I’m putting my foot in my mouth.” He pauses, trying to reign in his emotions. He takes a deep breath, “I never thought you cheated. I know you would have never cheated on me, that’s not you, but– Maddie’s been weird. Looking at me, waiting for something. Imagine my surprise when she asks me today why haven’t I told her about you and– and a baby .”
Tommy just shakes his head, blinking back frustrated tears. “Buck–”
“Stop calling me that!” Evan finally snaps. It echoes throughout the small kitchen, resonates in Tommy’s ears, and for a moment he considers just walking away, locking himself inside his bedroom and waiting for everyone else to just leave.
“Buck,” Eddie says, a warning from where he’s standing nearby, monitor in hand.
“I realize I have been far from perfect,” Evan steamrolls ahead, beginning to pace. “How– How I was going too fast, how I failed to see you were beginning to struggle to keep up, how I never realized that the communication we prided ourselves on having was lacking cos you didn’t even know I fucking loved you .”
“Buck,” Eddie tries again.
“I couldn’t have known something you never bothered to tell me,” Tommy snaps back, standing and straightening to his full size. They were the same height, he and Evan, but Tommy was still broader, yet to lose muscle mass from having been ordered to stop strenuous workouts.
He uses it as armor.
“You could have talked to me, come to me with this!”
“And said what ?! There you were, putting me on a pedestal like some fucking paragon of gayness when you had literally just found out how much of a fucking coward I had been for far too long! I lied to myself for decades, broke Abby’s heart in the process, and barely managed to put my puzzle pieces together when you walked into my life! You were practically the only serious relationship I had ever had, the only one I saw a future with!” Tommy yells, heart in his throat. He desperately wants to stop, cease the torrent of information he had never shared with anyone but himself, but he finds he can’t, far too keyed up to stop now. “But then you basically describe the person you’re infatuated with and fucking newsflash, it ain’t me! I am not confident,” He stabs one finger in the air, “I am not comfortable,” Another finger, “and I most certainly am not worthy of anyone’s bloody admiration! I am a fucking mess, Evan, and at that moment I realized that you didn’t know me, only the idealized version in your head! So, tell me, how could I have said yes to you? How could I have stayed, knowing one day the pink goggles would fall off and you’d realize you made a mistake?! What was I supposed to do, then, a year, five years, ten years down the road? Rebuild my life from the ashes of what would have been my forever?”
“Tommy,” Evan breathes, swallowing back tears.
“I’m sorry I broke your heart,” Tommy apologizes through gritted teeth, paraphrasing the other’s words from earlier. His hands are shaking and there’s sweat running down his back, but he can’t stop, won’t stop until Evan understands – “That I broke both our hearts, but had I taken that leap, you would have killed me. I couldn’t– I couldn’t risk it.”
“ Tommy –”
“I– I can’t–” Tommy pants, realizing too late the adrenaline is choking him, is burning him from the inside out–
He tilts, and all he can think about is that it’s becoming a fucking habit.
.
Tommy wakes up to something cold in his neck, staring up at his kitchen’s ceiling.
There are cobwebs on the wooden beams.
Huh.
He should clean that up, sometime.
“Tom?”
Tommy blinks, still out of it. “Evan?”
Slowly, he realizes that he’s lying on the tile, head cushioned in Eddie’s lap. His legs are being held up by Evan and Tommy’s hit with deja vu so strong his head spins. He tries to move and realizes maybe it isn’t just the deja vu. “W’happened?”
“Blood pressure shot up,” Eddie says, pressing the cold compress he’s holding to Tommy’s temple. “Your body shut down.”
Tommy’s heart jolts and he tries to lift a hand, finding it stuck by the monitor’s sleeve. “Is it–”
“Palpation’s good,” Evan interjects, squeezing his leg. He looks tired now, no longer itching for a fight. “We caught you before you hit the floor.”
“Good. Thanks.” Tommy breathes, relief flooding his veins. The emotional toll tugs at him and he swallows against the knot in his throat. “I’m sorry.”
Evan visibly bites the inside of his cheek to keep his face in check. “I’m sorry, too.”
There’s a lull. The fridge hums to his left, Evan sniffles occasionally, the monitor beeps periodically– Tommy feels like a stranger in his own skin.
When the sound of velcro rips through the quiet as Eddie removes the sleeve, he finds the energy to speak again. “I never meant to keep this from you.”
“Tommy,” Eddie warns.
“I know,” Tommy sighs. He’s not planning on blowing up his lid, again. If anything, he feels empty, having released all the pent-up tension within him. “Just. It wasn’t malice. I was waiting.”
Evan frowns, confused. “For what?”
“To make sure there would be anything to tell.”
Evan keeps frowning, confused before he exchanges a look with Eddie, and it clicks. “Tom.”
“It was one of our first conversations.” Tommy continues, “Kids. I know you wanted them, and would want to know about this one, but– I’m old. I never even knew I could grow life. My body keeps betraying me,” He confesses, curling his hands into fists. The cold of the tile is seeping into his bones, mocking him. “I can’t fly anymore. My Captain has me grounded at the station as a glorified clerk, I can’t watch games anymore because my heart tries to beat its way out of me, I can’t work on cars because of the chemicals, and I am stuck walking loops around the neighborhood cos I can’t even run –”
“You’re scared,” Evan interrupts. “I get that, I can understand that, but you seem to be missing a key factor, here.”
“I am?”
“I’m not here just because you’re pregnant with my baby. I’m here because you are pregnant with our baby.”
Tommy pauses, and wonders if he’s still out of it because, “I don’t understand.”
Evan carefully lays his legs on the floor and scoots a little closer. “Tommy– I’m saying that I care .” He pauses, looking like he’s waiting for Tommy to understand. He flaps his hands in agitation when it becomes clear he isn’t getting his point across. “About the both of you. I want to be here, and I wish I had known sooner, not just because I’m worried about whether or not this baby will make it past the first trimester but because I’m worried about you , too. I don’t– I don’t want this if it means you’re at risk, Tommy.”
Tommy’s silent for a bit, staring at the other man.
He takes in the furrow of his brow, the worry overlapping his frustration– His heart on his sleeve. He realizes he’s crying when Evan’s expression shifts to mild panic and he feels Eddie awkwardly dab at his cheeks with the compress he’s still holding. “Don’t.” He eventually gets out.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t give me hope that I get to keep you both.”
Evan stares down at him, incredulous, before his eyes harden and Tommy thinks, Oh. This is how it finally ends.
“Eddie?”
Eddie hums, trying not to show how awkward he feels, stuck between his bickering friends. “Yea?”
“Can you give us a minute?”
“ Gracias a Dios , yes–”
There’s a flurry of movement that has Tommy dizzy again but before he can protest, Eddie runs out of the kitchen and Evan takes his place. Warm, calloused hands cup his face and Tommy has the fleeting intrusive thought that his neck’s about to be snapped. “Tom,” He begins, thumbs rubbing against his cheekbones and wiping away tears and cold sweat. “Back at my apartment, you said your piece. Today, you did it again, but now ? Now, it’s time you listened . Earlier? I said that I loved you. I lied.”
Tommy holds the other’s gaze, despite the urge to run. “You don’t have to twist the knife–”
“Shut up,” Evan interrupts, then keeps going. “I lied. How? Cos it’s not past tense. It’s present tense. I love you. I never stopped. That night– You said a lot of bullshit, okay? About– about me finding myself, about you not being my last? I’m not even going to touch on how biphobic that sounded.”
“I’m sorry–”
“I’m not done. I may not have vast experience when it comes to dating men, but that does not mean that I can’t know what I want. I’m an adult, Tommy. I know what I wanted then, I know what I want now– And I want us . It doesn’t matter that you’re a guy; it matters to me that you’re you , and yeah, I jumped the gun– got ahead of myself and scared you off. Perhaps I had my pink goggles on, even, but you know what? The goggles are off, now.” Evan smiles, but it’s almost a wince, too. “You broke up with me and it hurt . I baked my feelings so much I could have opened a small bakery.”
“Your banana bread is great.” Tommy chokes out.
“Thanks, I got more at– Wait, no , stop interrupting me. I am still not done.” Tommy nods, gesturing at the other to continue. “You know why I baked? So I wouldn’t contact you. Every time I got the urge, I put everything into those cakes, and– I could have done anything . I could have redecorated, painted the walls, gotten into a new hobby– but you had a sweet tooth a mile wide, and even mad at you, I wanted to be close to you, somewhat. Then– I saw you bubbling me, today. I watch you type, type, type, and then just– give up.” Tommy saw the other’s throat bobble as he swallowed. “I wanted to call you. Eddie stole my phone. After our shift, I went to Maddie’s to vent… And then she told me she saw you, and all I could think of was how bad I must have been as a boyfriend if you were hiding this from me or thought you couldn’t tell me about it.”
“You weren’t. I just–”
“–Were scared.” Evan finishes for him and Tommy nods. “I get that now. I get why . And I’m sorry, for ever making you feel inadequate. Maybe… Maybe we’re still a little stuck. On that day, our official first date.”
“With the bad coffee?”
“Yeah,” Evan huffs out a laugh. “I said we didn’t know much about each other.”
“Practically everything.” Tommy smiled back.
“I still want to change that. I know that I want something, and I know now that I definitely want it to be with you.”
“And I’m definitely still interested if you’ll have me.” Tommy sniffled. He couldn’t believe his luck, yet… “I– have a condition, however. Two, in fact.”
“Anything.”
“First, I need you to tell me that you’re not just saying all this because I’ve got a bun in the oven.”
Evan sobers up then, expression softening. “I’m not. I meant it– I love you , and that comes before any proverbial baby. I’m here for you, first and foremost.”
“I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”
“I don’t, but now I have to ask something of you, too.” Evan leans in, brushing the pads of his fingers across his jawline. “You need to start trusting me. I know – I know it’s hard and it’ll take time but– Believe me when I tell you I care, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need, just– try . Or talk to me when it gets hard, okay?”
Tommy nods. It’s nerve-wracking and he’ll have to work at it every day, but he’ll try. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, what’s the second condition? Maybe Eddie should have been here, be a witness–”
“Second condition is– please , slow down.” Evan blinks and then laughs, and Tommy feels the world flood with color he didn’t even notice was missing. He had missed this; the other’s laugh, the other’s warmth – “Too much?”
“No, but– Tommy . We’re having a baby. We’ve reached Mach speed.”
Tommy reaches then, taking hold of one of the other’s hands. Slowly, but purposely, he rests them over his stomach and feels Evan hold his breath. It’s reminiscent of how Evan had held his hand at the café all those months ago, and he blows a breath, hoping in his heart of hearts that this time– the third time is the charm. “Humor me?”
Evan blinks and then he’s leaning in, pressing their lips together.
Any other day, Tommy would be making a joke about upside-down kisses and all the pop culture Evan is still missing, but today? Today, he keeps his mouth shut and lets himself float on the feeling of wanting and being wanted back , flaws and all.
Evan pulls back, tears on his lashes. “Yeah,” He breathes, grinning. “I can do that.”
.
They make it past the first trimester.
The baby and their relationship.
.
Twenty-eight weeks later, Mabel Buckley-Kinard breathes her first.
(give me kudos and/or opinions)
#bucktommy#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911#911 abc#bekasstrife#tag:fanfiction#everyone was either writing copter crash or mpreg#and i have already done chopter crash lmao
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