#Bucktommy Fanfic

[wikiangela]

let the love I have for you live in your heart and be forever

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: March 2-8: daddy issues/daddy kink and/or dancing in the kitchen rated: T word count: 1.7k

[read on Ao3]

“Hey,” Tommy smiles, and feels a soft kiss to his neck. “Whatcha doing?” “Just wanna be close to you.” Evan’s arms wrap around his stomach, his chin resting on Tommy’s shoulder. “I missed you. Two days is way too long.” “I missed you, too, honey.” Tommy hums, his smile widening when he feels Evan start swaying to the music as well while plastered against Tommy’s back, their bodies moving as one. Tommy closes his eyes and sighs contentedly, leaning back against Evan, just enjoying his presence, his warmth, the way he holds him. Then, one of Evan’s hands slides down to grab his own and lace their fingers, and before Tommy knows it, he’s being spun around so now he’s facing Evan, still pressed close together, just when another familiar tune starts playing. “You wanna dance with me?” Evan asks with a charming smile.  “You want to dance?” Tommy can’t help but raise his eyebrow. “Here?”

[read on Ao3]

[calinaannehart]

home with you is where I want to be

5 times Buck and Tommy go home to each other

+1 time they go home together.

Eighteen hours.

Eighteen hours, thirteen minutes, and forty-three seconds.

Not that Buck’s counting.

Who is he kidding, he’s definitely counting and has been for the last few weeks. He’s even gone so far as to cross off every day on the calendar before he goes to bed, updating Tommy on the time remaining.

Tommy. His fiancé. The love of his life who, in eighteen hours, eleven minutes, and fifty-two seconds will be his husband.

Buck knows he’s been insufferable; he’s seen it on the faces of every one of his nearest and dearest. Every time he’s pulled out his wedding planning clipboard there’s been choruses of despairing groans as they remind him yet again that everything is already checked off. The flowers have been chosen, the suits have been tailored, the menu has been triple-confirmed with the venue, and the band has the playlist of music they are not allowed to deviate from.

Okay, Buck can concede that he’s perhaps been a little bit of a control freak, but so what? He just wants the day to be perfect.

Even if everything that could go wrong does, it’ll still be the perfect day, because he’s marrying Tommy. In eighteen hours, eight minutes, and nineteen seconds.

As well as opting to have the rehearsal dinner the weekend before, wanting no added stress before the big day itself, they’d also decided not to spend the last night before the wedding apart. As much as Maddie keeps insisting it’s romantic Buck stands by his argument that it’s an antiquated notion, one that neither he nor Tommy see the point of when they can be together instead. So tonight is just him and Tommy and snuggling on the couch with a movie.

He scans his eyes through his email inbox on his phone, double checking he hasn’t missed any important messages about tomorrow, and slots the key into the lock through muscle memory alone. Satisfied there are no immediate disasters he shuts off his phone, determined there be no interruptions for the evening, and dumps his bag and coat in the hallway before kicking the front door shut and toeing off his boots.

“Honey, I’m home!” Buck calls in his usual way, reveling in being able to say the words. Even after four years of living together, it hasn’t gotten old, and he loves the crinkly-eyed smile that washes over Tommy’s face when he hears it. Usually, if Tommy is home before him, he keeps an eye out through the big window in the front room for when Buck pulls into the drive. He’ll round the corner just as Buck calls to him and will greet him with a kiss that makes Buck feel as though he's being kissed for the first time again.

Tonight, however, there’s no Tommy. The lights are on and Buck can smell whatever he’s started on for dinner, but the house is silent and there’s no sign of his man.

“Tommy?” He doesn’t call too loud, Tommy’s been working a lot of overtime lately, banking up some extra spending money for their honeymoon, so it’s more than likely he’s dozed off on the couch while waiting. If that’s the case Buck doesn’t want to wake him. He can check on dinner, make sure it’s not going to burn, and let Tommy rest for a little longer before Buck rouses him to eat.

When he turns the corner into the living room, however, he doesn’t find Tommy on the couch, the couch isn’t even where the couch is supposed to be. It’s been shoved back from its spot in the middle of the large room, the rug slightly askew when it’s gotten caught under the legs, and the coffee table lies upside down on the cushions. In the center of the rug is his fiancé, eyes closed and Airpods in as he sways in socked feet to whatever it is he’s listening to.

God, he loves this man. This big, strong, sexy, kind-hearted man who loves him unconditionally. This man who supports him, encourages him, fights for him but never with him. This man that is going to marry him in eighteen hours, one minute, and six seconds.

Read on AO3

Gifted to @cookme25

[infiniteaugends]

Just found this in my drafts, young me had so many hopes and dreams 😭

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

All The Devils Are Here

E-rated, ≈2.800 word BuckTommy fic for @bisexualbrainrots because of this post.

Once, Evan had told Tommy what it felt like, being struck by lightning. “Hot,” he'd said, “scorching, actually. Like accidentally touching an exposed power line, only a thousand times stronger.” It was pretty close to what Tommy felt this morning.

Though serious, the call hadn't sounded particularly dramatic at first. There’d been a pile-up on Pregerson Interstate, and Tommy had been deployed to assist with traffic control and to provide transportation if necessary. As it turned out, the 118 was also on duty. Whenever they met on the job, both Tommy and Evan considered it an unlikely stroke of luck, even if it was barely enough for a fleeting smile and a twinkle in the eye. Tommy usually stayed in the air, where at most he could imagine what Howie had spilled to him one night: that every time Evan saw a helicopter in action, he pointed up to say, “What if that’s Tommy?” This time, it was really him, and he was on the ground after the 122 had requested a specific tool that Sal, who Tommy still occasionally kept in touch with, knew was in every LAFD helicopter.

Tommy landed on an interstate littered with debris, exchanged tools and a handshake with Sal, gave Evan who was running by a smile, and turned to leave when it happened. One of the wedged cars, just a few feet away, exploded. Such things happened much less frequently than TV series suggested, but this time it did happen, with a bloodcurdling bang. The air was already thick with heat, intensified by the numerous small fires that were smoldering everywhere. But now, it was an inferno. Tommy heard Evan's captain shouting orders to try direct the chaos, and he himself was already sprinting in Bobby’s direction to offer help. And Evan... well, Evan ran straight towards the car.

“Buck,” Bobby shouted, and when Evan turned around, his captain pointed to the blazing vehicle, “There's nothing left to save!” “I can help, I h-have to,” Evan shouted back, and Tommy stood there, his mouth and eyes wide open, frozen in time.

“You won't. That's an order,” said Bobby in his most authoritative voice, making it clear that he was Evan's boss, not his father figure; indeed, not even his friend at that moment. It had an unexpected effect on Evan: he pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes and adjusted his helmet. And then he turned to run off.

Two, maybe three minutes passed, then it was all over: Tommy's paralysis, but also Evan's ridiculous attempt. The rest of the 118 were close enough to prevent the flames of the explosion from spreading to the surrounding vehicles. Meanwhile, Tommy saw Evan hitting dented metal with one of their extrication tools, as if he actually believed he could save anything, anyone from that completely warped car. He obviously did believe it, Tommy heard his frustrated cry; that's when he knew it was over.

As if he were standing outside his body that suddenly seemed made out of fire and ice at the same time, Tommy watched Evan take Bobby's scolding with his head down. Watched the captain sent him away to cool off, watched him disappear between two trucks. He found himself put one foot in front of the other, leaving in the opposite direction.

The rest of the day passed in the sequence of a mechanized automatism. Tommy went flying, put out fires, did his duty. Inside, he felt like a question mark, weighed down by a conundrum he couldn’t grasp. That evening, however, he showed up at the 118’s station as planned, and as soon as he saw Evan, the anger from that morning resurfaced. He found him at the lockers, Evan was just packing up. Although the shift had ended for everyone, he was alone; Tommy would have understood if the others had avoided his boyfriend because of his bad mood. However... he wasn't in a bad mood at all. Upon recognizing Tommy, his eyes immediately lit up; he cocked his head and smiled, greeting him with a bright “Hey.”

For some reason, this was the last straw. Tommy stopped in the middle of the room, his distance from Evan not merely a matter of steps. Hands on hips, he asked flatly, “What were you thinking?”

Evan’s smile faltered. He sounded so damn innocent as he asked, “What do you mean?”

“You disobeyed a direct order. Ran into the middle of the fire,” Tommy returned sharply. The memory alone was enough to tug at his nerves, he almost felt the heat on his skin again, smelled the smoke.

“S-someone was still in that car,” Evan’s slight stutter was the only sign of uncertainty.

“Who couldn't be saved.”

“You don't know that,” said Evan, his voice full of edge now. Tommy tried to reason.

“You’re a firefighter. You’d know a lost cause.”

“A... lost cause?”

There was a flash in those otherwise kind eyes which usually reminded Tommy of a calm lake. There was nothing calm about them now, nothing kind. Evan, who had been standing with his head inclined, as he often did when he wanted to appear narrower, straightened up to his full height and looked him straight in the eye. That's what he’d looked like when he had contradicted Bobby. Tommy immediately realized that his boyfriend felt backed into a corner, and he also realized that they were about to experience their first real quarrel.

“I'll do what I have to do, because that's why I became a firefighter. I thought you, of all people, would get that.”

There was a hint of hurt in his voice, and for some reason, it only upset Tommy even more. The morning’s fright turned into anger stirring up his bowels.

“You put yourself in danger when you act on your own,” he spat.

“Says the man who flew a helicopter into a hurricane,” Evan scoffed.

“You know what, I don’t need this.”

Seized by the urgent feeling that he would soon lose his temper, Tommy turned away. He walked off blindly, his ears ringing. Fresh air would calm him down, he was sure; he needed to think. He didn't get far; Evan’s hand on his shoulder prevented him from reaching the door. He sounded as angry as Tommy felt, and somewhat breathless from running after him.

“You're not running away, not again, Tommy. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What's wrong? You’re reckless, that’s wrong.”

“I'm willing to take risks.”

“You're a daredevil, that’s not the same thing.”

Tommy felt that some of his anger had evaporated just because Evan had followed him. He had broken the pattern. Still, they were arguing, and it was wearing on his nerves.

“You like me too much,” Evan said softly, the defiance in his eyes fading.

“What makes you think that? You’re being unreasonable.”

Deep down, Tommy knew this was true. He liked this man too much not to be afraid.

Evan shrugged, “Well, look around, you’re so upset, you turned the wrong corner.”

Reluctantly, Tommy looked around, and sure enough, instead of near the entrance, he found himself in the annex where the ambulances were stationed. He’d actually been so upset that he hadn't watched where he was going, and from Evan's sparkling eyes, he realized that this amused him. The emergency lighting cast a strange, reddish glow on Evan's face, emphasizing the hint of a smile on his lips. Tommy, however, was still angry, or rather irritated by a feeling that seemed out of place. Evan’s plush lips, his gaze veiled by the darkness in the room, it provoked him.

Suddenly, he found himself grabbing Evan’s hand, which was still on his shoulder, using the momentum to push him against one of the ambulances.

“You'd better come to your senses,” he growled.

“Or what?” Evan shot back, his eyes fixed on Tommy’s lips as if there was some special secret there, one that had never been told. A tantalizing, dark secret. All thoughts vanished as he found Evan's lips magnetically attracted his, and the kiss that followed was anything but gentle.

Their teeth slammed into a sloppy clash while their tongues entangled. It was still an argument, a special kind of fight with no losers. This, Tommy knew for sure. And if he was surprised by this severity, Evan’s hands on his butt drowned out all doubts.

“If that's what makes you tick, we should do it more often,” that impossible man breathed against Tommy’s jugular. It made his next words rumble.

“No talking,” he snapped, and if to emphasize this, he slid one leg between Evan's thighs, pushed them apart and began grinding against his crotch. Evan's fingernails pierced his jeans, clawing almost painfully at his ass. The guy was strong, and for a moment, this actually became a test of strength. It was a game for two, and Evan wasn’t easily pushed. His muscles tensed, and Tommy reacted too late – or rather not at all, and perhaps deliberately. In any case, the tables had turned, and now he was the one being pressed against the vehicle. The cool metal against his back did nothing to calm his temper.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he said, but it sounded anything but threatening, and Evan, that insolent man, gave a choppy laugh.

“Thought you didn’t want to talk,” he teased, one of his usually gently hands cupping Tommy’s bulge through his pants with force. 

With a last shred of sanity, he murmured against Evan’s mouth trying to recapture his lips, “They’ll hear us.”

“Shift change was half an hour ago. Paramedics only show up in an emergency.”

That was true; just like the firemen, they had a common room, and Tommy’d been with the 118 long enough to know that even with the siren going off, they’d had a minute before the place would be busy.  This was an emergency, somehow, albeit not the kind they’d need help for.

“What if I make you moan so loudly that they think there is one?”

Interestingly, Evan's cool facade crumbled briefly at those words. He was eager to see this side of Tommy, and in fact – Tommy had left all shame and restraint in the bright and open locker room. Wordlessly, he pulled his boyfriend closer, just briefly so that he wouldn’t forget the turmoil he’d caused, then he brusquely shoved him along. Lips locked, hands restlessly roaming their bodies, they pressed each other against the ambulance’s rear doors. This felt like wrestling, a show match; a tad violent yet somewhat arousing. Evan's shoulder slammed against a handle, and Tommy was grateful that the doors opened outwards and they didn't tumble into the vehicle. However, a thought formed in his lust-numbed mind, a ridiculous little idea.

A minute later, they staggered into the vehicle after all, but only because he had deliberately opened the doors and pushed Evan inside.

“P-perhaps we should continue this at home.”

There was the slightest hint of doubt in Evan's voice, and Tommy was eager to dispel it, quite out of character.

“Heard you once screwed on the fire engine’s rooftop.”

Evan laughed way too loudly, and Tommy knew that he should still be angry, but he was just extremely turned on, he needed an outlet. He reached for him, tugging at Evan’s shirt, but not wasting any time undressing him. If this was a game, then he wanted to set the rules for once.

“Pants down,” he demanded, and rarely had anyone obeyed a command more quickly.

Evan, who usually enjoyed it when they slowly and pleasurably bared each other bit by bit, tore off his pants as if his life depended on it. In his eyes, his whole being, there was no longer any defiance. Nevertheless, this compliance somehow irritated Tommy even more, as if that slight smile was just mocking him, not taking him seriously. And yet Evan didn't seem surprised when he said, “Bend over.”

His arousal was not only visible, it seemed tangible, filling the small space around them with a peculiar smell and tension. There was no longer anything provocative about Evan’s movements as he leaned on the ambulance stretcher; he didn't do it slowly or even carefully. Impatience was already dripping out of his every pore. It infuriated Tommy, they shouldn’t even be here right now, and they certainly shouldn’t do what they were about to do. But why should he be the voice of reason? He was indulging in the very same behavior he'd scolded Evan for, he knew it, and he still didn't care.

The inside of the ambulance was cold, just like Evan's glutes, between which he slid his hand. This wouldn't be gentle nor polite, and he wanted his boyfriend to know that, wanted his thumb, hastily moistened, to rub roughly against him. It was less about testing his readiness than his willingness. Evan was clinging to the gurney, spreading his legs even more; oh, that man was certainly ready for him.

Tommy had done this before, jerking off a guy in a dark alley, quick fucks in the back rooms of shady bars; he never thought he would do something like this with Evan. It was absurd, he adored the man, he would lay his heart at his feet; but now, now he wanted nothing more than to take him, hard and fast, controlled by his dick just this once.

So he did, without regret and with little consideration, and it was so much easier than he had thought. It was almost as if all resistance, all unruliness, had finally melted away. Evan hadn’t followed orders, he’d chosen to shut his ears, following instinct; and now he paid the price, with a small, surprised gasp. The narrow surroundings shrank even more, as if everything around Tommy wanted to reflect the tightness he felt. One reckless thrust, and he sank completely into it, pleased to see Evan’s knuckles turn white around the edge of the stretcher.

Gentleness was for those who reflected, and Tommy didn’t want to. He’d discovered an unexpected side to his lover today, surfacing an unexpected side in himself. His thrusts came rough and hard, but if this was supposed to be a punishment, why did it feel so good? Why did Evan gasp every time he withdrew, exhaling in a sigh when he was filled completely again? He’d pushed Tommy to the limit, and now he returned the favor. Obscene smacking sounds filled the air when their bodies collided, over and over. The stretcher swayed in unison, even though the brakes were locked; if the alarm would sound now, they’d be in so much trouble.

In truth, very little time passed; not because they rushed all of this, but because it was just too much. Like a fifteen-year-old who cums in his own pants at the mere thought of something horny, Tommy finished faster than desired. A grunt, a last slap on that peach of an ass in front of him, and he was done. His mind went blank, and he briefly bent over Evan, stroking his hair as if he wanted to say, Good boy, you’ve been doing me a favor. Then he withdrew his hand, almost as if he had been burnt, even if only in his thoughts.

He pulled back, careful not to leave any stains in the ambulance; feeling that their lust could still be smelled in here for hours. Evan turned around, nimbly pulling up his trousers; only a redness on his neck and the slightly tousled curls suggested that anything had happened at all.

“Unbelievable,” he croaked, “I'll need a moment.”

Tommy realized that he didn't even know if Evan had come at all. While trying to suppress a small twinge of sorrow, he hadn’t forgotten why all this had happened in the first place, and tried to color his words with seriousness.

“We're not done yet.”

“Oh, you're pretty done,” Evan teased.

“With talking,” Tommy replied, although he could no longer suppress a smile. “Seriously, I want us to discuss this, sensibly. You need to realize that at the end of the day, there’s someone waiting for you who values your life. Not only me, and you know that, yeah, but also me.”

“You’re babbling,” said Evan, fascinated; running a still warm and strangely moist (Oh, thought Tommy) finger over his lips. Certainly not to shut him up, he was just provoking him again. “A-and that's sweet, actually. But this isn't the place to discuss it.”

For a brief moment, there was a glimpse of this unruly man again, words of resistance already on the tip of his tongue. There was reason for it, Tommy knew this now, and he’d try to understand it.

“At home, then,” he returned quite ambiguously, and with a final slap on the butt, he pushed Evan out of the ambulance.

AO3 version | Song by Dynazty | All my BuckTommy on AO3

[ninjatrashpanda]

Can't Help Falling In Love

Written for @bucktommywinterfest

Prompt: dancing in the kitchen

Rated: G

Tags: established relationship, fluff, ficlet

Read on AO3 here.

“Wise men say, ‘Only fools rush in.’”

Tommy suppressed a chuckle. They were making dinner. Or at least, they were supposed to. But roughly three songs ago, Evan had dropped his knife onto his cutting board, grabbed Tommy’s waist from behind, and started swaying.

“But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

That had been Ed Sheeran’s Perfect. He’d turned around to wrap his arms around Evan’s shoulders after it had transitioned into At Last by Etta James before resting his forehead against Evan’s when La Vie en Rose filled the air.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?”

Evan’s fingers curled tightly around Tommy’s waist, slowly guiding their steps across their kitchen. The scent of the garlic and onions Tommy had been sauteéing for his nonna’s famous ragù still wafted through the air, waiting for him and Evan to continue cooking.

“If I can’t help falling in love with you?”

With a soft smile, Tommy let his head drop onto Evan’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment, letting himself get lost in the warmth of his boyfriend and the soft melody coming out of the speaker Evan had insisted on setting up after he’d moved in.

“I think we’ve already sinned enough tonight,” Tommy murmured, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Evan huffed a laugh against his temple. “You say that like dancing in the kitchen is some great transgression.”

“I meant the fact that you just up and abandoned the chopping board. Like a heathen.”

Evan pulled back just enough to meet Tommy’s eyes. “You wound me.”

Tommy smirked. “Do I?”

Evan spun him suddenly, a startled laugh escaping Tommy’s throat, then pulled him close again before dipping him just slightly. It was smooth, so smooth that Tommy couldn’t help his heart starting to beat a little quicker.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.”

Tommy rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree. Evan grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and pulled him upright again. They continued to sway, the song’s final notes feeding the atmosphere in the air.

Evan leaned in, voice soft in his ear. “Take my hand.”

Tommy shivered, tilting his head slightly, eyes fluttering shut. He let himself relax, the moment filling him with warmth, and then whispered back, “Take my whole life, too.”

Evan hummed, nuzzling Tommy’s cheek before finally closing the distance. The kiss was soft and sweet, barely more than a brush of lips at first, before Evan pressed in a little deeper, drawing a quiet sigh from Tommy, who instantly returned the favor.

The music shifted again, and this time, it was something more upbeat, some old Motown song Tommy didn’t recognize. Evan grinned against Tommy’s lips and suddenly stepped back, tugging him with him as he spun them both in a silly little two-step.

Tommy yelped at the sudden change in energy, but it quickly turned into a deep belly laugh after he caught himself. “Do you plan to just keep on dancing until we starve?”

A playful grin spread across Evan’s face, his eyebrows wiggling exaggeratedly as he continued leading Tommy around the kitchen. “What, you wanna stop?”

Tommy opened his mouth, fully intending to say yes, to remind Evan of the half-prepped meal they still had to finish, but Evan twirled him again, and, damn it, he was having too much fun to argue.

So instead, he sighed dramatically and said, “Fine. But if I pass out from hunger, I’m haunting you.”

Evan laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way Tommy adored. “Fair deal.”

And so, they danced. The pasta could wait.

[kinardsevan]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:

-

Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 

“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 

“I am,” he insists. 

“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 

“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 

“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”

“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 

“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 

“Six months,” Maddie states. 

Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 

Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 

“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 

Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 

“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 

“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 

Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 

“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 

“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 

“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 

Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 

Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 

After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 

“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 

“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 

“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 

“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 

“The who?” “Huh?” 

Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 

“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 

“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 

“So?” Evan asks. 

“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 

Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 

“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 

“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 

“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 

Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 

“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 

Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 

“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 

He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 

“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 

He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 

“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 

“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 

Evan stares down at the counter again. 

“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 

“Call him.” 

. . . 

Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 

So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 

Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 

“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 

“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 

Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 

“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 

“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 

“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 

“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 

“Buck-..” 

“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 

“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 

Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 

“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 

“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 

“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 

Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 

Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 

“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 

Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 

“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 

Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 

Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 

Tommy nods. 

“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 

“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 

Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 

The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 

Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 

Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 

[louiseolivier]

08x06 Delulu

Tevan are at the Italian restaurant. The Hot Waiter flirts with Buck. Buck's kinda oblivious. He unintentionally flirts back. Buck pays this time, and inside the folder with his card and receipt is Hot Waiter's phone number. Buck is a little weirded out because he feels like it's obvious he and Tommy are on a date.

For the most part, Tommy watches Buck and Hot Waiter's interaction in amusement. He jokes whether Buck is he's going to call him, and Buck is taken aback. Then Tommy gets serious.

"We haven't really talked about the kind of relationship you want."

Buck's confused. "What does that mean?"

"Just that there's more than one way to be in a relationship. I've been in a couple that were open."

"Open?"

"We were allowed to sleep with other people."

"I know what it means, Tommy. Is that what you want?"

"I want you to be happy. I want you to know I'm amenable to that if you're interested. Truth be told, Evan, the most important thing is that you're in my life, whether we’re together or not. 

Suddenly, the Ironside siren goes off in Buck’s head, and he’s spiraling.  

Tommy clasps his hand and looks at him like he’s the goddamn sun, moon, and stars. “Think about it. It’s not like it’s something you have to decide today.”

Cue Buck, going to Bobby. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, but I’ve seen you two together. I don’t think breaking up is something Tommy is even thinking about. The other stuff...you should talk to Tommy. Be upfront. Be honest. 

Cue Buck, going to Maddie. “Buck, he kissed you while you were still covered in boils. I saw that with my own eyes and wished I hadn’t. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but he does seem very committed to you. And to be perfectly honest, the open relationship doesn’t sound like something he’d suggest out of thin air. Maybe you said something...”

“You’re blaming me? Come on, Maddie! You know damn well that’s not how I roll. I slept around, yeah, but not while I was in a relationship - and don’t you dare bring up Taylor! Besides, an agreed upon “open” means consensual. I just - how did I miss that this was something he was interested in? Why would he wait six months to bring it up?”

A sound of disgust emanates from the corner of the call center's breakroom, and the Buckley siblings' heads swivel to its location. Josh is sitting at a table, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes. “You sweet naive baby bi.” He gets up from his chair, sidles up to Buck, and eyes the donuts he brought for Maddie. “I don’t suppose there's a Bavarian cream in there?”

“There’s a jelly,” Buck says. 

“But jellies are my favorite,” Maddie complains. 

“Too bad. I’m about to help your chaotic brother out, so I deserve it.” Josh bites into the donut and gives an appreciative moan. “Oh god, I haven’t had refined sugar in three days. How I missed you.”

“Back to me, please,” Buck says with a whine.

“Look, it’s pretty simple. There are only two types of guys who want to open up a relationship after the six-month mark. Assholes carrying multiple red flags or..”

“Tommy’s not an asshole,” Buck tells him firmly. 

“Considering he’d whittle a rocking chair if you asked him to, I’d agree. Buck, my guess is he’s scared. He's worried that if he doesn't give you a free pass, that you'll get bored with him and leave.”

“That’s so stupid,” Buck cries in dismay. 

Maddie lays a supportive hand on his bicep. 

“It is,” Josh agrees. “But just because your man is a solid L.A. nine doesn’t mean he’s not carrying around a lot of insecurities. Talk to him. Tell him. And hey, if it all blows up on you, send him my way. I’d love to be that man’s shoulder to cry on.”

Buck shows up at Tommy’s door. Tommy is supposed to come to his after finishing his laundry, but Buck doesn’t want to wait that long. “Hey,” Tommy greets him with that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” Buck tells him as he barges through the door. 

“Oh-kay,” Tommy says, closing the door behind Buck. 

“Do you want to have sex with other men?”

Tommy crosses his arms, and his head tilts towards the ground. “No. I’ve come to learn that’s not an ideal situation for me.”

Buck scoffs. “Then why suggest it?”

The buzzer on the washer goes off, and Tommy moves towards it to switch out the load. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to you flirting with everyone.”

“You think I flirt?” 

“Evan, you told the waiter you liked his chinos while eyeing his ass. Most of the time, I think it’s cute how you rile people up without realizing it, but then I have a thought like, what if Hot Waiter would be a better match for you? So I panicked and threw out that suggestion.” 

“Jesus, Tommy. For the past six months, my brain has been consumed by nothing but you. Yet you think I can be swayed by some guy in a comfortable pair of pants? I only want you.”

“I know. I do. You prove that to me every day. I didn’t suggest it because I don’t trust you.” Tommy tosses one of Buck’s hoodies into the dryer and starts it. He can’t keep eye contact with Buck for more than a few seconds, and he looks paler than when Buck first arrived. Tommy’s also picking his middle fingernail with his thumb, and that’s Tommy’s tell that he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Uh, so like, I’m in this for the long haul. I think you’re it for me, Evan, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve settled or...”

“I love you,” Buck tells him with a certainty he doesn’t think he felt even eight hours ago, but it’s the god’s honest truth. “Just seeing you makes me feel so full I could combust. ”

Tommy’s eyes are glossy and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He finally locks eyes with Buck. “Loving you has been living in the back of my mind since...I honestly don’t know how long. I’ve been trying to temper my expectations because I haven’t been super successful in relationships. But then you started leaving clothes here, and suddenly you’ve infiltrated my life like no one else has been willing to. Next thing I know, I’m at a funeral for a long dead cowboy. I watched you embrace the memory of a forgotten man, and I realized I couldn’t love you more, Evan. Boils and all.”

Aaaaand that’s it. I’m tapped out.

[salty-autistic-writer]

“Is he here?” Tommy asks, feeling strangely calm, considering his current circumstances. 

Eddie shakes his head, cursing and shivering while the helicopter makes a creaking noise, sways and sinks into the water just a little more. It rises to Eddie's midsection, darkening his clothes. “No. He’s at home. Baking and looking after Jee. He said they want to make a gingerbread house."

“Good,” Tommy mutters, his head lolling to the side. He’s tired. And so cold. The embrace of the water is freezing. At least that means it’s numbing the pain. Or maybe he’s not feeling as much pain as he did right after the crash because his body is about to shut down.

It’s better this way, he thinks. Evan shouldn’t have to see this. He shouldn’t have to feel the pressure to say something nice to Tommy in his last moments.

Eddie’s face is tense, his eyes filled with determination and his shaky breaths coming out as foggy clouds as he tries to get to whatever is pinning Tommy’s legs down and holding him in place. He’s talking to someone who is on the roof of the helicopter, someone who’s holding a flashlight and a rope that’s tied to Eddie so that they can pull him out when it gets too dangerous for him. It seems like there’s a lot of people out there.

Tommy really didn’t think they would try that hard. He didn’t even think there would be a rescue attempt. It was so dark and lonely when he crashed into the water, he thought he would simply drown like that. Alone in the dark. It’s nice to have some company instead.

“It’s okay, you know?” He tells Eddie, noticing how his words start to sound all slurred. He thinks he lost blood. It's been seeping into the water. “That’s how I want to die.”

No long battle. No illness. No waiting. Only this. The certainty that he did what he could to make sure the helicopter didn’t hurt anyone else while crashing. He almost made it to the beach. But the water is even better. No messy crash site with broken parts. No explosion. No fire. Just a floating wreckage, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Clean. And final.

“You’re not going to die,” Eddie tells him sternly. “I am going to get your stupid dramatic ass out of here in time and we are going to patch you up so you make it to the hospital. And then you are going to survive.”

For what? Tommy wants to ask. Because these last few days, he’s been merely existing. 

He swallows. Everything tastes like blood and salt in his mouth. It's so cold. By now he's not even shivering anymore. His body is just stiff and numb. He can't imagine ever feeling warm again. “Can you … can you tell Ev -”

“No,” Eddie interrupts him, both his hands disappearing in the murky water and his jaw setting. “We are not doing this. Now take a deep breath for me. This is really going to hurt.”

And then Eddie push-pulls. And it does hurt. God, does it hurt. The pain tears through Tommy in one violent wave, white and blinding. It takes every coherent thought away. Tommy can hear himself scream. It’s a scary experience. Like he’s being pushed out of his own body for a moment, then forced back into it. Blood fills his mouth as he bites his own tongue and there are flashing lights in front of his eyes and he thinks he hears Eddie’s voice, but he can’t make out any words. His world is pain. It drowns him before the water can reach his mouth and nose.

The next moments are a blur of shadow and light. He’s pulled, pushed, lifted. There are too many hands on him. Too many voices above him. Too much pain burning his nerves. It seems to go on forever. Until the pain suddenly fades and numbness creeps in from all sides, sending him into darkness. Finally.

His last thought is that he should have sent that text message.

*

Beeping.

Tommy wakes up to a steady beeping, a dry throat and a white ceiling. Blinking into the sunlight, he tries to make sense of this new situation. He’s been floating in darkness. Now he’s in a bed. He’s alive. And he’s not alone. When he turns his head on the pillow, he sees someone he thought he would never see again. And it’s … too much.

The moment he knew his helicopter was about to go down, Tommy was ready to die. It wasn’t the first time he prepared himself for the end.

He is not ready to live. Not ready to face Evan. Not ready to understand what he sees in Evan’s eyes.

“You’re awake,” Evan says, standing up from the plastic chair in the corner that’s way too small for him and pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “You ... God. Tommy."

Evan looks tired. His eyes are redrimmed, his hair tousled and his cheeks covered in a stubble.

Guilt makes Tommy’s throat feel tighter. He tries to say something, but Evan raises a hand.

“Don’t. Don’t say anything,” he says. “It’s okay. I … I want to be here, alright? If you don’t want me here, you can … you can tell me. It's fine.” He rubs his face with a shaky hand. 

I always want you with me, Tommy thinks. I'm just scared that being with me isn't what would make you happy. I want nothing more than for you to be happy.

“We weren’t … we weren’t always sure you would wake up, you know?” Evan says quietly. “You lost a lot of blood and you were bleeding internally. Also the cold ... They had to treat Eddie for hypothermia too. But at least you managed to crash the helicopter into the water. If it had been the cliffs ..."

He swallows heavily, shaking his head as if he is trying to push that thought, that image, away from him. “Anyway, I’m just happy you’re alive. And I, uh, I brought you some cake. It’s your favourite.” He smiles weakly. “That’s all I’ve been doing lately, you know? Baking. It’s been a distraction. Helped me to keep myself from calling you. Because I wanted to. All the time.”

Evan shakes his head and sighs. "It's probably pathetic. But what can I do? And I'm rambling again. Sorry."

Tommy feels tears in his eyes. “Evan …”

“It’s okay,” Evan tells him. “We don’t have to do this right now. You … You just woke up. You’re hurt. And on painkillers. So I’m not going to expect anything. We can … If you want to, we can talk later. Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. Hesitates.

Tommy clears his throat. “Evan. My phone. Is it …”

“Oh. Yeah, I think it’s still working,” Evan says. “They have it in a bag. Together with your other stuff. Like the keys.”

“There’s … I wrote. I wrote a text. Didn’t send it. Think it was saved … as a draft,” Tommy says and every word pulls at his energy, draining him. “If you want to. You can read it.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “Thank you,” he breathes. “I will.”

Tommy hums. He can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Distantly, he hears Evan say that he’s going to call a nurse. And then he thinks he feels a hand running through his hair once. Just once. But maybe he just imagined that. He sinks into darkness once more.

For @tevanadvent2024 Day 6: „That’s how I want to die.“

(AO3 Link)

[gaybonesforivy]

+ Bonus

At the insistence of *checks notes* “That Random Someone” here is a sneak peek from a surprise visit:

For the lovely @thatmexisaurusrex Hi Mexi!! Denial-verse has a special place in my heart however I'm not good with words, so instead I made this :D Thank you so much for sharing your awesome talent and giving Tommy a voice that deeply resonates with many of us. I hope you like it 🥰🥰🥰 Special thanks to lovely @bekolxeram for all her support 🫶💞

read on ao3

(template)

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[moonydanny]

Little fic idea I had... Maybe if you guys like it I can expand it a bit?

After Eddie drops the bomb that he’s leaving, Buck holds it together.

Honestly, he’s kinda proud of himself for that. He does help with the video call with the realtor. Helps Eddie pick a house. They have a beer after. And he holds it together.

When he goes to leave, he gets into his Jeep and starts to feel himself losing it. But he knows he has to hold it a bit longer. He’ll let go when he gets to the loft. Only he doesn’t drive to the loft. Without realizing it, he ends up in front of Tommy’s house. And he sees Tommy’s truck in the driveway, so he knows he’s home.

He sits there for a minute, two, trying to find the strength to drive away, but his resolve is crumbling, and he needs Tommy. So he walks to the door and knocks before he can change his mind.

Tommy opens the door, and the surprise is clear on his face. And god, how Buck has missed his face. 

“Hey. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

And that’s what does it, what breaks the dam. His eyes fill with tears, and through his blurry vision he sees Tommy’s expression morph into genuine worry.

“Eddie is leaving for Texas”, he says, voice barely above a whisper, the words only just going past the lump in his throat. Tommy’s eyebrows go up in disbelief and his eyes go all soft as he looks at Buck.

“I—Tommy.”

Next thing he knows, Tommy’s arms are around him, holding him tight as a sob finally tears from deep in his chest.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

I wish you woud write a fic where either Buck or Tommy get amnesia

This made me laugh a bit, Anon, because my friends have said I should write an amnesia fic too, but I haven't had an idea for it yet. Hopefully you like what your request inspired!

Here be the silliest amnesia ficlet ever:

"Evan. Evan!" Tommy crouched down in front of his boyfriend, carefully feeling around his head for any bumps. "Look at me, baby."

His favorite pair of baby blues fluttered open, hazily looking around until they landed on Tommy. "Wh-what happened?"

"You got a little enthusiastic during your cooking and karaoke time," Tommy said, tilting Evan's chin so he could check his pupils. "You slipped—" He still wasn't sure how he'd managed that. "And went down hard. I think you hit your head on the cupboard. Does anything hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three," Evan said, frowning as he moved to sit up. "And mostly my butt and my elbow, but I think I'm okay." He stared up at Tommy with wide eyes. "W-who are you though?"

Tommy's heart stuttered in his chest. "I'm Tommy."

"Tommy," Evan breathed out. "We—we know each other?"

"Yeah, we do," Tommy said, swallowing hard. "I'm your boyfriend. Do you—do you not remember me?" How hard had he hit his head? They had to get him to the hospital—this was bad. This was really bad.

"Boyfriend?" Evan's lips quirked up in a way that had Tommy's eyes narrowing. "I think that's ringing a bell, but—I might need a little kiss to help me remember..." He chewed on his bottom lip, barely holding back a grin as he looked at Tommy through his lowered lashes.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Tommy laughed as he sat back on his heels—relieved and exasperated in equal measure.

"What about my kiss?" Evan pouted. "How am I supposed to remember my strong, handsome boyfriend—hmpf—"

Tommy pressed forward, putting his all into the kiss, into the reminder of exactly who they were to each other. "Better?" he asked, once they'd finally pulled apart.

"Much better," Evan agreed breathlessly. His face fell into a grimace as he shifted on the floor. "My butt still hurts though."

"Come on," Tommy said, as he helped Evan to his feet. "I'll kiss that better too."

"Best boyfriend in the world," Evan laughed, leaning into him.

"And don't you forget it."

(For this ask game.)

[aainiouu]

In honor of it seeming like the TV gods heard my prayers of letting Buck’s curls roam free ☺

—

Tommy and Buck have been spending a lot of time together. Quality time, sleepover kind of time but the first time Buck leaves to work straight from Tommy’s place something happens Buck didn’t anticipate.

Tommy is still dozing on the bed, the lucky bastard doesn’t have work until evening, and Buck is getting ready, contemplating about calling in sick. But alas Bobby would never believe him.

When his hand goes towards the hair wax, he hears a wounded sound coming from the bed. Buck stops and turns around.

Tommy is, and Buck is feeling a little smug about it, trying to get up and not being remotely as spry about it as he usually is.

”Don’t.” Tommy says and comes closer.

For a minute Buck is confused, it's early and the close proximity of a very scantily clothed boyfriend is not helping the matters.

Then Tommy dips his fingers in the wax and very lightly runs his fingers through Buck’s hair. And poor Buck is left fighting against some kind of purr trying to escape his throat.

After doing this a couple of times Tommy picks up a curl on his temple, rolls it around one of his fingers and lets it fall on Buck’s forehead.

”There,” Tommy murmurs, ”That’s perfect.”

Tommy softly lands a kiss on Buck’s brow, turns around and flops back on the bed, groaning.

Buck stands there, mouth open, and slowly turns towards the mirror. His hair remains curly and one strand of hair is softly hanging on his forehead. He likes it, and it seems his boyfriend likes it too.

And well, crap, he’s gonna be late from work.

*

When he arrives at 118, he knows he is still smiling and as he goes in the tugs the curl resting on his forehead. 

It doesn’t take long for him to hear the first comment about it. 

“Letting the curls go free today, Buck?” Hen asks as he trots upstairs. Buck stops and feels the blush creeping on his neck as he tries to think of an innocent answer. 

But of course his co-workers know him too well and Chimney groans as he clocks on the blush on Buck’s cheeks.

“I do NOT want to know what kind of kinky thing this is for you and Tommy, Buck.”

“I-Hey! It’s not kinky!” Buck protests “I don’t even know how you can make my natural existing curls kinky, Chim. It’s only… sappy.”

Chimney groans again and Hen’s eyes are twinkling. Buck sighs and walks towards the fridge. It’s going to be a long day.

[dashing-disaster]

Bad Beer and Naked Rodents

Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!

also on AO3

“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”

Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.

“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.

“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in…” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”

“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a … horn?

“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”

“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.

“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“

“Hey!”

“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”

“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.

They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.

“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”

“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”

“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.

“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”

“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”

Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.

“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”

Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.

“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”

Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.

“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”

Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.

“A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.

“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”

“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”

Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

“I’m 8.6.”

Silence.

Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.

“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”

Tommy groans.

“God, I hate you.”

Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.

As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.

“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.

“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.

How forlorn he feels.

“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”

Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.

“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.

And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.

And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.

“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”

Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.

 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.

And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”

Tommy bursts into tears.

It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.

It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.

Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.

Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.

Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.

Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.

He’s silent. Waiting.

Tommy takes a breath.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.

But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.

It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.

Hope.

For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.

A minute passes. Two.

Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.

Evan steps aside.

[bekolxeram]

TW: traffic accident, injury

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I crashed, into a tree, now my wife can’t get out. Somebody please help us!”

------------------------------------------—

“Vehicle collision with obstacle, aka car crashed into tree,” Bobby informs his team while guiding them towards the scene of the accident. “One male driver, escaped the wreckage on his own, and one female passenger still trapped inside. Hen, Chimney, check her vitals. Buck, Eddie, go see if the driver needs any medical attention.”

“DUI?” Hen asks, clearly concerned by her past experience with councilwoman Ortiz.

“No, I don’t think so. Apparently the driver was alert and coherent enough to call 9-1-1 and explain their situation,” Bobby responses. “Now go help free the victim.”

Hen nods and takes off with Chimney.

“Hi, my name’s Hen. What’s yours?”

“Jessica…” the woman sobs, visibly in shock.

“Jessica, okay, we’re here to help you. I know it’s not easy, but please, try your best to relax,” Hen reassures her. “Hey, Chim, take her vitals while I check on her wounds.”

Chimney simply puts the clip onto her finger, watch the monitor and wait. She’s doing surprisingly well in her state.

Until a worried expression from Hen extinguishes his optimism.

“Femoral artery,” Hen whisper in Chimney’s ear.

He looks down to see a large mangled piece of metal protruding through Jessica’s left thigh. Ironically, the foreign object causing her so much pain might be the only thing keeping her from bleeding out right away.

“The driver is fine. The airbag saved him. He told me he was working long hours and fell asleep behind the wheel,” Eddie comes back with Buck. “I’d say let him stay with his wife. No law enforcement needed. He doesn’t seem under the influence to me.”

“Good. We need a saw and some running water to cool things down here,” Chimney yells at Buck and Eddie.

“Oh, god, are you amputating my leg?” Jessica panics. “I’ve watched it on TV. This is the setup when you want to amputate someone’s limb!”

“No, Jessica, don’t worry. TV shows aren’t real,” Hen directs her team to get the necessary tools. “We’re cutting the metal off and transporting you to a hospital with it. They’ll keep you comfortable with medicine before they take the metal out of you, okay?”

Jessica nods faintly, trying her best to keep her body still.

“We need to get her to a trauma center, stat,” Hen turns to her captain, “every second she spends on the ground, the risk of the piece of metal accidentally dislodging multiplies.”

Bobby ponders for a few moment before speaking into his radio, “this is the 118, at the scene of a traffic accident. Requesting air support for medevac.”

Buck’s entire body freezes once those dreaded words leave Bobby’s mouth.

He’s been fearful of this day since Tommy dumped him, almost 3 months ago. Just the two of them, meeting up for the first time since the breakup on a call, struggling to push the awkwardness aside and maintain a façade of professionalism, fighting against his urge to forget about the emergency and just yell at Tommy, to feel him, to devour him, to cling to him and never let go.

Still, there’s a severely injured person whose life is hanging by a thread. Buck decides to shake off his overly active mind and help carry the heavy machinery to the patient.

“Eddie, you handle the saw. Chim, you take the water. Hen, keep a close eye on her vitals,” Bobby instructs his team, intentionally leaving out one member.

“I — I can help, Cap,” Buck asserts.

“It’s not personal, but this requires the highest level of precision and concentration. You can take the next one, when the circumstances are a bit… different,” Bobby puts up a palm to stop his subordinate on his track, “now, I need you to stay on the side and stand by.”

Buck complies, reluctantly.

The soaring sound of a helicopter rotor inches in merely minutes later.

Buck debates internally whether to hide or take a good look at the helicopter, to see if the pilot is Tommy. It’ll likely rip his heart out if he sees Tommy all rugged, brokenhearted from the breakup, but it’ll kill him if Tommy looks normal, good even, seemingly moved on from his latest fling.

He decides to stand beside an engine when the helicopter lands on the freeway, in order to look without standing out.

“What’s the status of the patient?” A tall, blond Asian paramedic hops out of the helicopter, still putting on his gloves.

“We’re still trying to free her,” Bobby says, with sharp, mechanical noise in the background.

“I think it’d be best if we avoid moving her too much,” another paramedic, a giant, burly man who puts the best body builder to shame, chimes in.

George and Carl, Buck recognizes. They’re in Tommy’s flight crew.

“Uh, maybe we should bring the chopper closer?” Buck suggests.

“Donato, bring the bird closer,” George speaks into his radio.

“How close?” Lucy replies.

“So close you can smell my conditioner.”

“Copy that. Hey, why do I only get to do cool stuff when Tommy…”

“Ahem,” Carl interrupts Lucy’s communication, “we have company here, the 118.”

“Uh… wilco. I’m gonna bring her in, stay clear of the downwash.”

Carl directs all personnel on the ground to stand behind the 118 engine and make way for the aircraft. Buck catches George on his way to his destination.

“Hey — Hey, George. Where’s Tommy?” Buck asks, the fear of Tommy being in trouble enters his mind once again.

George sighs, then rolls his eyes, “you would’ve known if your so-called friends didn’t pretend he never existed after your two broke up.”

“What happened to him? Is he hurt? Come on, I just want to know if he’s okay,” Buck pleads.

“Oh, the patient’s out. We’d better get going,” George ignores Buck, choosing to focus on his task at hand instead.

Buck emerges from behind the firetruck. The LAFD helicopter is now parked steps away from the wreckage of the car, thanks to Lucy’s piloting skills.

This is the last chance for Buck to investigate, before they fly away.

“Carl,” Buck knows for a fact that this man is soft and easily persuadable, despite the tough exterior, “please tell me Tommy’s okay.”

“I guess you’ll just have to ask him yourself,” Carl says, carrying the patient into the chopper.

“But I thought he didn’t want to talk to me. I’ve been giving him space,” Buck chases after the aeromedic.

“Take the initiative. Brave the ice,” Carl shouts before closing the door and flying away with his team.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Happy birthday Kath! @weewoowings ❤️

Buck is in love with his boyfriend.

You can't not notice that. Especially not if you’re a member of the 118.

* “That’s it,” Chimney says dryly. “From now on there’s a limit of how often you can mention Tommy in a single shift.”

“Hey!” Buck says, blushing. “It’s not like I’m talking about my boyfriend all the time.”

“Yes, you do,” everyone says at the same time.

“And you have no filter when it comes to him,” Chimney mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. “The things I heard! The pictures you put in my head! The audacity…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault Tommy is so hot, cool and interesting,” Buck says, shrugging. “I finally have a boyfriend who can lift me, carry me and throw me on the bed, how am I supposed to not talk about him?”

Everybody groans.

“Is there anything Tommy can’t do?” Ravi asks innocently, ignoring Hen’s and Chimney’s glare.

Buck takes a deep breath. And goes on.

* “You are doing it again, aren’t you?” Eddie asks, raising a knowing brow.

“Hm?” Buck takes another picture of the helicopter that’s flying past above them, squinting, trying to zoom in as close as possible.

“You're going to send this to Tommy in a second, asking him is that you, babe? ,” Eddie says dryly.

“Of course, I'm going to ask him. I have a badass boyfriend flying cool helicopters after all,” Buck says cheerfully, typing: Is this you, babe? and sending the picture to Tommy. It’s not as blurry as the last ten ones.

One day, Tommy is going to answer yes. And Buck is not going to be able to contain himself.

He gasps when his phone vibrates a few moments later. Tommy sent him a picture of a happy labrador, together with a text: No, that’s not me :(, but look, I met your twin today! ;) 

Buck giggles and sends Tommy five kissy emojis.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Eddie mutters, looking over Buck’s shoulder and seeing Tommy sending ten hearts back. “Why do you two have to be so disgustingly cute?”

“Hey, be happy it’s not his dick this time!” Buck says and smirks, putting his phone away and patting Eddie’s back.

“How could I ever forget about that,” Eddie mutters and sighs heavily. “It’s still burned into my mind. And I still don’t understand how he could send it to me. Just because Eddie starts with E like Evan?! Maybe you should get him to wear reading glasses after all. Please do. The potential of this happening again is too much.”

* “Firefighter Buckley.” “Firefighter pilot Kinard.”

Buck is clearly trying hard to maintain a professional distance while buzzing with excitement about finally meeting his boyfriend during a call.

They do manage to focus on the job. At least until there’s no danger left and all civilians are taken care of. After that, no one can miss the longing glances they throw at each other. It’s just a matter of time really.

“So. See you later,” Tommy says, half-smiling and wringing his hands.

“Yeah,” Buck nods, his eyes wide and shiny. “Later.”

They should be ready to leave. Tommy should go back to the chopper. Buck should return to the truck.

But they are still hesitating. And to the surprise of absolutely no one, they move at the same time, bodies all but colliding, lips pressing together, hands reaching for hips and hums escaping as they kiss passionately.

“Get a room, you two!” Chimney calls and cackles.

Hen snorts and rolls her eyes. She’s not surprised at all when Eddie tells her, “Tommy is just as obsessed with Buck by the way. He literally can’t stop talking about him when we meet up. They behave like teenagers with a crush, but imagine teenagers stuck in bodies built like brick walls.” *

The face of the grumpy deliveryman is hidden behind the biggest and most colourful flower bouquet Hen has ever seen in her life. She knows before she hears the words. “Those are for … Evan?”

“Buck!” Hen calls, lips twitching. “You got a delivery from your man!”

“What?” Buck approaches curiously, wiping his hands with a towel, a splotch of oil smeared on his cheek. He freezes and gasps, his eyes widening. “No.”

“Yes,” Hen says, smiling.

Buck blushes. Like strawberries and cream. It’s cute. He carefully takes the bouquet, taking a sniff, shaking his head. “No one ever got me flowers,” he says, voice shaking. “It’s not even a special day.”

Every day is special when you’re in love , Hen thinks to herself, still smiling.

Chimney whistles and takes a picture with his phone. “Aw. This is like straight out of some cheesy romance movie. I have to show Maddie.”

“Is there even a vase big enough for this monster?” Eddie asks teasingly. “You probably have to put them into the sink to water them.”

“Guess everything is big when it comes to Tommy,” Ravi murmurs, ducking to avoid another glare from Chimney and Hen. *

“Is that Tommy’s hoodie?” Hen asks when Buck appears at the station one morning, still yawning and his eyes clouded with leftover sleepiness.

The auburn is not Buck’s colour. And it’s worn out, carrying the signs of a beloved comfort item.

Buck chuckles. “Oh. Oops. Yeah. Uh, I spent the night at his house and … Well. This somehow happened,” he says, fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie, his face flushing lightly.

Hen smiles. She feels the sudden need to tell Buck something. “Buck. I hope that no matter how much we tease or joke, you do know that we are very happy for you two.”

“Yeah. I know,” Buck says, nodding. “You know, I think that this relationship … It’s going to work out this time. It’s different. I … I can’t really describe what it is. But I can feel it. You know what I mean?”

“Yes,” Hen says gently. “I know. Happiness looks good on you, Buck.”

Buck smiles, but his eyes fill with anxious seriousness. “I just hope I can trust it this time, you know? I want to. I hope I can trust myself to not mess this up.”

“Just listen to your heart, Buck. And remember that no one is perfect. Tommy and you are adults with adult issues. Each relationship has rocky roads. And there will be clouds. But as long as you’re being honest to each other, they will pass.”

Buck nods, expression thoughtful. “Thanks, Hen. Oh, uh, by the way, Tommy always says that he’s grateful he got to know you at the exactly right time of his life because he needed a verbal kick in the ass. So thanks for that too.”

“That time wasn’t easy for all of us,” Hen says, remembering. “But we managed to grow together. That’s the important thing. Now let’s get some coffee before all hell breaks loose.” *

“Hey, Tommy,” the whole 118 says when Tommy comes by the station in a free moment, hugging Buck and commenting on how delicious the lasagna smells.

“Sit and have some,” Bobby tells him, nodding at a free chair.

“Thanks,” Tommy says quietly, a whole spectrum of emotions hidden in a single word. His eyes meet with Hen’s and she smiles at him, nodding barely noticeable. Telling him that he can have this. That he is part of this family.

Tommy sits, his shoulder nudging Buck’s.

The 118 eats, talks and laughs.

And it feels like it’s meant to be this way. Like an invisible string connects the past with the present, leading to the future.

(AO3 Link)