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hardly-an-escape · 10 days ago

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part two of this, originally inspired by @newtkelly's amazing art 🌹💕

The call is, blessedly, a very simple kitchen fire situation involving an aspiring but inattentive teenage cook and the charred remains of some former tacos. They clear the house, verify that there's no lasting damage and that all the smoke detectors are still working properly, and double-check the wiring on the stove just to be sure nothing drastically malfunctioned. Bobby gives the teen a friendly but compelling lecture on gas stoves and kitchen safety, and the cavalry rolls out.

The rest of the 118, to their credit, makes it a solid five minutes into the drive studiously not looking at Buck before the tension finally breaks.

"So," Chimney says.

"Flowers," Hen says.

"Lots of flowers," Eddie says.

"And a romantic ass speech," Hen says.

"In front of God and the captain and everybody," Chim adds.

"Shut up," Buck says, feeling his cheeks heat up, probably as pink as one of the carnations in the massive bouquet Tommy had given him.

Bobby says nothing, but his eyes in the rearview mirror are knowing and kind.

Tommy appears on the balcony as soon as the doors open and watches the engine back into the bay. His eyes seek out Buck's as soon as he hops off the rig, and Buck feels his heart leap in his chest. He changes out of his uniform in record time, and Tommy is waiting outside the locker room when he's done. He hands over the bouquet and takes Buck's duffel bag without a word, slinging it over one shoulder and wrapping the other arm tight around Buck's waist, and they walk out of the station like that, in lockstep with one another, out to Buck's car under the orangey-red Los Angeles sunset.

Buck is unusually warm when he wakes up on Friday morning.

It takes him half a second to realize why – that the extra heat is coming from the long, firm body wrapped around him from behind; that his bad leg is comfortably resting on a hairy thigh rather than the extra pillow he usually shoves between his knees; that the breath tickling his ear and the thumb stroking idly through his chest hair are both Tommy's.

God, he's missed this. They've barely been out of arm's reach of one another since Tuesday night, aside from when they'd both been scheduled to work, and yet all the time together isn't even a drop in the bucket of how much he's missed Tommy – missed his kisses and his voice and his dry laugh and his eyes and his body. He wriggles back against that body now, so naked and warm, and is rewarded by Tommy's arm tightening around his chest and Tommy's gentle laugh huffing in his ear.

"Oh, you awake now, sleepyhead?" he asks.

"No," Buck lies. "I'm fast asleep. I swear. You can keep watching me like a creep."

"If you insist," Tommy chuckles, dropping soft kisses along Buck's neck. "It's a shame, though. If you were awake I had some ideas for how we could spend the morning."

He grinds against Buck's bare ass, gentle and purposeful, and sucks an earlobe into his mouth, and Buck sighs happily and rolls in Tommy's arms so they're chest to chest and dick to dick, and kisses the laughter out of his mouth.

Some time later, Tommy's head is on Buck's chest and they're catching their breath, sweaty, the sheets kicked down around their ankles.

"Can I ask you something kind of silly?" Buck says.

"Mm. Go for it."

"How'd you know that I would be at work Tuesday evening?"

Tommy snorts. "Sneaked a peek at the citywide duty roster while Melton was in the john. I figured it was my best bet, instead of maybe missing you because you weren't home. And besides…"

"Besides what?"

"I felt like it was important to have an audience."

"An audience?" Buck parrots, confused.

Tommy nods against his chest. "I don't know, maybe that's not the right word. I wanted it to be witnessed. And I wanted you to know that everyone saw me come after you the way you deserved. Is that crazy?"

"I think you watch too many rom coms," Buck says. "But. It was also one of the best things that's ever happened to me, so I'll give you a pass."

"Nailed it." Tommy rubs his five o'clock shadow against Buck's chest and kisses the red patch it leaves behind. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"How come you didn't call, or anything? Afterwards? It felt – I know why I didn't. And maybe I don't have the right to ask. But is there a reason you didn't?"

Buck sighs. "I told myself a long time ago that I wasn't going to chase after people who weren't going to chase after me. And even with what you said that night, it didn't feel like you were chasing me. But I don't know, I kind of regret it now," he says, running a hand reflectively through Tommy's hair. "I missed you so much. I should've told you. Maybe we could've gotten back here quicker."

"I'm so sorry I made you feel that way, Evan," Tommy says quietly.

"It's okay."

"It's really not. But I meant what I said the other day. I'm going to do anything I can to make it better."

"This helps," Buck says, pulling Tommy a fraction of an inch closer.

"Then I'll keep doing this," Tommy says. He slings a leg over Buck's hip and kisses the patch of beard burn again.

Downstairs, three dozen roses overflow from the bowl of Buck's stand mixer – the only thing in his kitchen that had been big enough to hold them all. A couple of them are starting to look a little wilted, but most are still going strong almost three days later. He'll have replace the water today, pull out the spent blooms, rearrange the remaining flowers.

And he has to be at the station in a couple hours, and Tommy's shift starts an hour after that. It's Valentine's Day, but neither of them had bothered to request it off, so they'll have to get up soon; shower and dress and eat something and reenter the world once again.

But that's soon. This is now, in all its naked honesty: warm skin, and warm sheets, and kisses, and kindnesses, and the slightest scent of roses floating up to meet the morning light.

#bucktommy #my writing #valentine's day #911 abc #I stayed up way too late to finish this because I am a silly goose #might clean both parts up later today and put them on AO3

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penumbra-mayhem · 2 months ago

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How to Trap an Alpha

— Asher & David & Angel Fic

This takes place about a month after the Inversion. It def goes against canon; I'm making everyone's response to the Inversion far worse (especially David, in this he didn't talk about the Inversion with Angel after it happened. Also I hc Angel as a transwoman, so expect she/her thx.)

Hope yall enjoy <3

TW: gore, panic attack, verbal fighting, grief, PTSD, flashbacks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Asher’s third mistake this week—and his biggest. It had cost David one of the few security gigs he'd managed to book since the Inversion, and David could only chalk it up to pure negligence. He called Asher into his home office; the sight of him sparked panic in David, but he swallowed it and growled:

“This is unacceptable, Asher.”

“I know,” Asher replied, wincing at the aggression in David’s voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it. You know how badly we needed this gig.”

“I forgot—”

“—you forgot,” David scoffed, “You need to do better, Asher. I'm relying on you. The pack is relying on you. If they don’t get work, they can’t pay their rent or groceries or medical bills—”

“—I’m trying, okay?”

“Well you’re clearly not trying hard enough.”

“Yes, I am. Your standards are just ridiculously high.”

“You’re the pack beta. My standards have to be high.”

“Well can you lower them a bit?”

“I’m not going to coddle you, Asher."

"I'm not asking you to coddle me, but I tried talking to you last week—"

"—and I told you to deal with it. I trusted that you would."

"You wouldn't listen to me! Ever since the Inversion you've been practically unreachable. I've been trying to tell y—"

"—I don't have the time, Asher. I have responsibilities. I have people to take care of. I'm the alpha of this pack!"

“You’re not just the fucking alpha!” Asher barked.

David glared at him, “What?”

“Could you stop being my alpha for one goddamn moment and just be my friend,” Asher pleaded, "I know you're not doing well. How could you? How could any of us? I’ve tried checking up on you so many times the past couple weeks. You just keep ignoring me. And not once—” he gasped, his chest tightening, “—not once have you checked on me.”

Images flashes in David's mind at the sound of Asher struggling to breathe: Asher's mauled chest—the layers and layers of exposed skin and bubbly fat, heaving and stretching as he fought for air. Crimson sludge pulsing out of him with each beat of his racing heart.

Asher’s gasped in between words, “I know you want to b-be strong for everyone, but sometimes your strength just c-comes off as indifference. I-I miss my friend! I need my friend. Not my alpha. Fuck, I didn’t know l-losing Gabe would mean losing you too.”

Gabe. It always came back down to Gabe. David balled his fists tight. He’d never escape his father’s death. Never step out from his shadow. He tried so hard to be like his father, and yet everything he did seemed to be the antithesis to what Gabe would do. He wasn’t his father. He never would be. Everyone knew that. Everyone doubted him. And now the one person who’d always had his back was losing faith too.

David stared as Asher backed up against the wall of his office, shaking and hyperventilating. Gabe wouldn’t have let him get to this point. Especially after what he just went through. He would’ve checked on him. He would’ve cared.

Asher's face rapidly losing saturation, so contorted with pain that he looked monstrous. No sense of recognition when he looked up at David. Just pain and fear. It was a look David had never seen on Asher before.

Asher spluttered, “I-I don’t think I can d-do this…fuck, I f-feel like I’m going to p-pass out.”

Gabe knew how to respond to tragedy. He knew how to compartmentalize. He knew how to be a leader and a friend and a father. Gabe knew what to do, always. David didn’t. David didn't know anything. He tried to think of how Gabe would've helped Asher and came up empty. Every day it was like the memory of his father faded a bit more. How could he emulate someone he was slowly forgetting?

And if Asher died, would the same thing happen? Would David lose bits of him? His voice? His laugh? His smile?

Asher was a whimpering, gasping ball on the floor of David's office. He clawed at his own chest, mentally trapped somewhere between the past and the present. David felt the same.

Trying desperately to heal Asher. Asher's core clawing at David's, like someone drowning seeking anything to hold. David's core grasping at Asher's as it slipped away like smoke.

I should leave, David thought, panic squeezing his throat, I should call his mate and let them handle it. They're better at this. Asher's better at this. Ash would know what to do. Dad would know what to do. I don't. I can't. I'm frozen. I jus—

Knock knock knock.

"Hey, David, is everything..." Angel asked quietly as she cracked open the door. Her face fell as she saw the look in David’s eyes, and then Asher on the floor to her right.

"What the fuck? David? David?" Angel sputtered, rushing in. Getting no response from her mate, she crouched down in front of Asher, "Ash, sweetie, what's going on? Are you hurt?"

"C-can't breathe. C-can't..." Asher managed.

Angel whipped her head to look up at David, "What the hell happened?"

"I...I..." David muttered before looking away.

She turned her attention back at Asher, murmuring, "Ash, you think you make it to the living room?"

Asher gave a slight nod. He swayed as Angel helped him up; the feeling brought on a whole new wave of panic, causing him to whimper and grip Angel hard.

"It's okay. It's okay, I've got you. Just a little trip down the hallway, and I'll get you some water, maybe some ice, and we'll get that breathing slow again. It's okay, you're safe, I've got you..." Angel cooed, her voice fading as the two made their way to the living room.

Leaving Ash lying in the Underground. Wondering if he'd ever see him again. The ice-cold fear that it hadn't been enough. That the healing hadn't been enough to save him. That he'd die down there, alone. That he'd abandoned his best friend.

David's head spun. The panic he felt whenever he was with Asher was the same panic he felt whenever Asher left. He couldn't escape. David leaned against his desk as images flooded his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About twenty minutes later, Angel appeared in the doorway. David's eyes shot up, red and glassy.

"I managed to calm him down a bit. His mate came and picked him up. They're on their way home now, I expect," Angel said, her voice tight.

"Good," David croaked.

Silence fell for a moment.

"What happened?" Angel asked.

David grumbled dismissively, “He lost us the Devlin gig."

"I already knew that. That's not what I'm talking about."

"It was just a panic attack. He's fine," David hissed.

Angel gaped, "What? What the fuck is wrong with you?""

"Oh fuck off." David growled.

Washing Asher's blood off himself in his bathroom sink. Angel offering to help. Telling her to go away.

"No!" Angel shouted, advancing towards him, "No, you do not get to tell me to fuck off. Not after I just helped your best friend off the fucking floor while you stood there and did nothing."

Gabe would have done something. Gabe would be so disappointed.

Angel lowered her volume, but kept the bite in her voice, "Look, I understand you're struggling, David. I don't need you to tell me that for me to see it. But that doesn't mean you get to be cruel. No more shutting me out. Now talk. What happened?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He felt his body instinctively fight the urge to keep from crying. Gabe used to let himself cry in front of people. Why couldn't David?

Angel ran a hand over her face, muttering, "Alright. Fine. I'm leaving."

Pack members sprinting. Splitting up. Leaving his line of sight. Leaving him.

She turned to walk out, and David heard the words before he even realized he was saying them, "I can't stop seeing him. How he was. Asher. On the ground, bleeding out. Every time I look at him, that's all I see."

Angel stopped, but didn't turn back around.

The words came rushing out like a flood. Like blood from an open chest. "I can't escape. Everywhere I look, there's something or someone that reminds me of that night. Something that sends my mind back there and then I have to claw my way back to the present, every time."

Angel faced him, biting her lip and furrowing her brow. David could feel tears burning his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall.

"I don't know how to handle this. All those fucking people, just...gone...I don't know how to be a leader after something like that. I'm doing everything wrong. I'm somehow pushing everyone away and yet not far enough, apparently, cause I'm still hurting people when I lash out. I'm hurting you. I'm hurting Ash. I'm hurting the pack. And-and..." David choked, "...and I just keep thinking how the only good thing about my dad being dead is he doesn't have to watch me as I destroy everything he built."

"No," Angel insisted, shaking her head as she walked back to him, "You're not destroying everything."

"I am, Angel," David cried out, his voice small. Tears clung to the edges of his eyes.

"No," she repeated, her hands resting on his hips, "you're not."

David let Angel pull him into her. He let her arms wrap around him. Let her shoulder hold his head as he began to cry. Finally. For the first time since that night.

His tears falling on Asher's face. The Shades and the screams so loud he could barely hear his own sobbing.

"Here's what we're going to do," Angel whispered, "We're going sit on our bed. I'm going to get you some water. We're going to talk. Afterwards, we're going to get some food. Maybe go for a drive, talk some more. And when he's ready, you're going to talk to Ash. Okay?"

It was a page right out of Gabe's book, and it took David aback for a moment. He almost kept the thought to himself. Almost.

"My dad would've said that," David mumbled into Angel's shoulder, “What you said, just now.”

“Yeah?”

David nodded.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. Makes me feel...steady," David assured her.

Angel pressed a small kiss to his temple and murmured, "I'm glad. Now come on, let's go talk."

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