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borathae · 1 year ago

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“His touch is electric, making you sigh. “Relax, princess”, he whispers, running his hands along your body, “I’ll take the greatest care of you”. You close your eyes and fall into him. Falling is so goddamn easy when you know that it’s Yoongi’s hands which will catch you. And they will always catch you, no matter when or where he won’t ever let you collide. Alternatively: You ask Yoongi to take your anal virginity and he is more than willing to grand you this wish.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: soft Dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, the tension in this makes me weak, they are so in love!!, first time anal sex, he is so gentle with her, lingerie, body worship, strength kink, a lil bit of thigh riding, praising & loving petnames, oral (f.receiving), rimming, he fucks her hole with his monster tongue help, gentle biting, anal fingering, use of a buttplug, hand holding, hair pulling (m.receiving), use of a vibrator, he fucks her gently at first then she wants it harder, gentle spanking, he cums too soon but keeps fucking her, creampies, using cum as lube, dirty talk, edging (f.receiving), multiple orgasms for both, squirting, belly bulging, his stroke game is insane, the most loving aftercare, honestly their connection should be illegal, I came outta this smut feeling like someone threw me against a wall, like hoLY FUCK Yoongi is gonna kill me, and the worst thing is that I actually think he’s like that irl, please help me

Wordcount: 9.1k

a/n: I need five business weeks to be able to talk to people again. This made me weak. And weak isn’t a strong enough word to describe the amount of weak it made me feel. It’s like my body felt the gravity twice as strong and I couldn’t get up. I’m talking shit rn, which is yet another indicator of how deeply this shit affected me. Be strong besties, you need that 🧡

You haven’t been home in months. You counted the days. It’s been seventy eight days since you last saw your bedroom. Your plants are well taken care of by the others. You haven’t seen them either, except for phone calls and texts. You miss them, but you know it’s for the best.

You are safe here, in good hands. You aren’t completely alone here.

Yoongi is with you. He took you in one of the cars and is staying with you. Meredith called and offered the two of you her guest bedroom to stay, her library to study and her shed to practice. Of course you said yes. There aren’t many opportunities to practice with such skilled witches and it was an opportunity to go on a lovely summer holiday with your dearest love.

The days are hot and sunny. It’s been summer ever since you came here and it will stay summer for a long time still. You love the weather here, while Yoongi whines about the bright sun on more occasions than one.

Meredith offered you an opportunity to choose from all the different guest bedrooms, but you and Yoongi decided to take the one you had all those many months ago. Violet walls and mahogany furniture, with its window overlooking the garden and ocean. This room has seen so many of your most impactful memories and will therefore always feel like home to you.

Yoongi agrees. He loves this room and on most mornings you have to be the one to wrestle him off of you in order to get out of bed. Truly, Yoongi is such a clingy kitten when it comes to morning cuddles.

You love life here. You love knowing that you can wake up to the smell of the ocean and the sounds of the waves. You love knowing that your fellow witches will be downstairs with breakfast and that you can chat with them about the garden, magic and life here. You love their house because it felt like home and you love knowing that you can experience all of this with Yoongi.

You spend a lot of time practicing your magic with him. Obviously as this was the main reason for this trip. Yoongi wanted to help you with learning perfect control and Meredith’s place was the perfect place to do so. Next to practicing, you also had a lot of free time with him which you spend doing the most amazing things imaginable. On Sundays the two of you take the car to the market to shop for next week’s dinners. He always insists on carrying the heavier bags while you are busy carrying flowers (he insists on paying for them and never takes no as an answer). Whenever you finished practice earlier and the witches were busy with coven duties, Yoongi took you to one of the many restaurants along the coastline. You shared so many lovely evenings in little restaurants, chatting over food for you and coffee for him. You have been getting to know each other even better because of it. Speaking of talking, you do that a lot. Whilst driving around, visiting the market, eating at restaurants or walking along the beach. Also in bed. Be it after a passion-filled night, a lazy evening or a cozy morning. You truly talk a lot and it’s never getting boring.

Yoongi also spends a lot of time playing the guitar. It’s during those nights after practice and dinner and you agreed on healthy alone time, where you can watch him sit with his guitar by the beach or somewhere in the garden. Sometimes the wind blows just right and carries over his melodies while you relax on the patio with a good book. You like those nights as they are filled with tranquillity and somehow the cuddles you share afterwards feel a hundred times better.

You also spend a lot of time swimming. Yoongi not so much, because he hates getting into the water, but you really enjoy it. You spend most of your late mornings swimming in the ocean and sometimes one of the witches will join you and you will chat over life there.

Yoongi would either play the guitar sitting cross-legged on his towel or he would be somewhere inside, most definitely chatting with Jelena.

You like Jelena. She is lovely and sweet and her very obvious interest in Yoongi is still topic of many teasing comments you throw at him. He always whines and pouts, which results in you giggling. He never acted on her interest. One night you dared to suggest that he was allowed to act on them if he wanted to, which resulted in Yoongi genuinely getting mad at you and staying out all night. You made up the next day and he made you promise him to never ever suggest something like that again. You never did again and hugged him for a good hour before you left bed.

Said night was already forgotten and forgiven these days and life has been great. Truly and genuinely great.

You were in the shed. It was only an hour until sunset and the shed was flooded with golden light. The witches aren’t home today and won’t return until tomorrow. Coven duty somewhere in the mountains. A werewolf pack was attacked by werewolf hunters last night and the witches were called for aid. The hunters weren’t from the coast and still haven’t been located.

You and Yoongi stayed back. You for practicing and Yoongi for making sure the house stayed safe. The last time you saw him, he was in the kitchen with his lower arms covered in flour and his waist accentuated by an apron as he baked too many loaves of bread. That was a few hours ago.

A knock on the shed door makes you lift your head.

“How’s it going?” Yoongi asks. He is wearing a white button up and blue jeans. His arms are clean and the apron is shrugged off.

“Good. Did you finish the bread?”

“Yeah, they’re cooling down”, Yoongi says and walks to you. He sits down on the rattan chair next to you, resting his elbows on his knees. He reaches out, patting the top of your head, “show me what you got”, he says as he caresses the back of your head.

Yoongi gave you the task of practicing focus by painting flowers by using nothing but your magic.

You focus hard on lifting the brush and tipping it into the paints. You draw a small flower next to the one you practiced before he came inside. Then you end it with a heart in which you write his initials.

Yoongi chuckles fondly, rubbing the nape of your neck.

You place the brush back onto the ground, turning your head to beam up at him.

“And? That was really good, wasn’t it?”

“It was perfect, my love”, Yoongi praises.

You giggle, turning in your position so you were facing him. Like this, you are sitting on the ground in front him, cross-legged and with your eyes sparkling just for him.

“I’ll be an artist if I continue being that great, right?”

“Of course”, he smiles fondly, caressing your cheek, “you’ll be the greatest artist.”

“You’ll buy my art, won’t you?”

“Of course, my sweet princess.”

You wiggle your shoulders because he makes you feel good. He studies your face with love drunk eyes.

“Hey, Yoongs?” you ask.

“Yes, my love?”

“You know what we talked about on Sunday?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I thought about it and I think I want to do it tonight.”

Yoongi widens his eyes for just a second, before his fond warm gaze returns.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not doing it for you. I want to try it”, you say, reaching out to feel up his shin mindlessly, “when you put your fingers up there, it felt really good and you’re always so gentle. And the witches aren’t here tonight, which means we can be loud. Yeah”, you feel your cheeks heat up, “I wanna try it.”

He smiles gently, caressing your chin as he has it between his thumb and pointer finger. His head tilts to the side, his eyes lower fondly.

“Then we gotta do it”, he says, “princess’ orders, yeah?”

You laugh, nodding your head. Yoongi chuckles and places his hand on the back of your head to tilt it up and kiss your forehead.

“You’re so cute”, he says, guiding his kisses down along your nose until he can claim your lips in a kiss.

You sigh, hooking your arms behind his head and getting to your knees instantly. Yoongi’s body follows your movements instinctively and just seconds later, you are on his lap without the kiss ever turning awkward.

Yoongi runs his big hands up and down your body. He feels up your legs, butt, hips and back, he lingers on your cheeks and switches up between touching you and hugging you against his chest. It feels so good. He feels so good.

By the time, you break the kiss for the first time, your hips are squirming on his thigh and your breathing is quickened. Yoongi looks up at you warmly. His chest heaves up and down as well, his hands are on your hips.

“You got me so good”, you say and giggle.

“I know, princess love. I can smell it”, Yoongi says, smiling fondly.

“God, embarrassing”, you say, hiding away in the crook of his neck.

“Why?” Yoongi says and chuckles, patting your butt, “I like it. Why’s it embarrassing?”

“Because I can’t even be secretly horny with you.”

He laughs, “why you wanna be secret about it? Don’t hide that from me”, he says and grabs your butt just so he can tug you snug against him. You gasp because of it, writhing from the sudden pressure on your warmth, “I love that smell, don’t you dare tryna keep that from me”, he rasps, moving your hips back and forth.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, feeling deep tingles in your tummy.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Feels good.”

“Mhm, I know”, he whispers and stops even if you whine in complaint.

“Don’t stop.”

“Mhm”, he hums, getting to his feet with you in his arms, “let’s get you inside. It’s getting too cold.”

You know what will come soon and it makes you press yourself closer to him.

“But you have to go somewhere else when I get cleaned. It’s embarrassing”, you tell him.

“I promise. You can have all the privacy you need.”

Yoongi goes downstairs as you get cleaned. Of course he does, because when he promises something he actually means it. You don’t feel stressed or nervous about getting yourself ready for him, because you know that he will give you all the time you need.

You don’t bother to put on clothes once you are happy with the result. Instead, you pick out a set of lingerie with matching stockings and the necklace Yoongi got you. A droplet of his blood was infused into a blue gemstone and the purest gold frames it in a delicate heart shaped pendant. Knowing how much such a present meant with him makes you want to cry each time you put it on.

You feel really pretty, making your way downstairs with a skip in your steps.

You find Yoongi in the kitchen, humming to himself as he listens to music through his ear buds and washes the tomatoes he picked from the garden. He will make dinner with them later.

You close the distance between you and him, snaking your arms around him from behind.

“Mhm”, Yoongi lifts his head and presses back into you.

He dries his hands, takes out his ear buds and touches you.

“Don’t mind me”, you say.

He turns in your arms, showing off the smile he sports. It grows as his eyes land on your body.

“Oh, princess”, he says, picking you up just to lift you on the kitchen counter, “look at you. You shouldn’t have dressed up.”

“Why not?”

“Because”, he presses his hips against you, feeling up your lower back, “now I gotta rip this off of you. You are so beautiful, fucking shit look at you.”

You laugh, feeling your heart flutter.

“Do you like it?” you ask, posing for him.

“I love it”, he says, running his hands over the fabric of your panties and stockings, “where’d you hide that from me? It’s fucking beautiful on you.”

“In my suitcase.”

“Mhm princess”, he purrs, running his hands up your torso until he can trace your bra, “I should spank your cute butt for keeping this from me for so long.”

You draw closer, tangling your fingers in his long hair.

“Fuck it instead”, you whisper.

Yoongi’s eyes flit to your lips. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a lopsided smirk tugs at the corner of them a second later.

“Deal?” you ask, gazing at his lips.

“You already know my answer, princess”, he rasps, drawing closer until his kiss is just a tilt of your head away. The tension twists your stomach addictively.

“I need to hear it”, you sigh.

“Fuck, don’t tease”, he rasps with heavy eyes. One more second without your kiss will kill him.

“I’m not. Say it”, you whisper, feeling dizzy from denial.

“Deal”, he breathes, placing his hand on the back of your head, “now fucking come here and let me seal it.”

You let him pull you in with a moan of his name and your legs closing around his waist instantly. He growls deeply, picking up from the counter to carry you with one arm. His hand never leaves your face, except for when he feels up your torso hungrily.

He knows the way upstairs, using his senses to walk safely while his lips are lost in you.

He nudges the door closed with his foot and carries you to bed. He doesn’t stop kissing you as he lays you down on it, claiming the emptiness between your legs for himself. Your legs are over his thighs, his knees are digging into the mattress. Like this, he can grind his clothed cock into you. The dent in his jeans is so unbearably noticeable to your sensitive pussy.

Yoongi breaks the kiss to instead dance his lips over your jawline and neck. His hands are feeling up your legs.

“You feel so good”, you sigh, writhing under him sensually. Your hands are on his chest, trying to open his shirt.

“I can’t get enough of you, princess”, he whispers, changing sides of your neck, “my beautiful love, fucking look at you.”

His fingers play with the hem of your panties and slip inside. Not in the front but at the side of your hips, where your skin is so sensitive. He tugs slightly.

“Don’t rip them”, you say, squirming away, “I really like them.”

He smirks against your neck.

“Fine”, he says and without warning picks you up just enough that your butt is off the mattress and he can pull down your panties.

You laugh, writhing in his hands with your eyes glued to his face. You get so giddy whenever he shows his strength. It’s so nice to know that you are in such strong and safe hands with him.

Yoongi chuckles, “cute.”

“It’s so hot when you lift me.”

“I know princess, I can smell it”, he says and guides your panties to his nose to take in your scent. He growls playfully, flashing his eyes ruby, “so sweet”, he lulls, letting the panties disappear in his front pocket a second later.

“Touch me”, you choke out, feeling lightheaded. There won’t ever go a day by where this shit doesn’t ruin you.

“Patience. I gotta savour you”, he says, placing himself over you again. He lowers himself to your collarbones, touching your sides, “I’d be a fool if I didn’t”, he adds in a whisper before he runs his lips over your skin.

The touch is electric, making you sigh. You close your eyes and fall into him. Falling is so goddamn easy when you know that it’s Yoongi’s hands which will catch you. And they will always catch you, no matter when or where, he won’t ever let you collide.

Yoongi lifts his lips when he is between your clothed breasts. He glances up at you, finding heaven in how blissed you look.

“You’re so beautiful”, he says honestly and lowers his lips to your soft breasts to kiss them, “so fucking beautiful.”

“There…” you sigh, arching your chest into him.

“There?” he whispers, sucking on the spot of before. The one which made you arch so cutely and which makes you arch even cuter right now.

“Yoongi”, you squeak in a giggle, writhing between his hands.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asks in a smile, feeling up your sides.

“It’s just…good.”

“Cute”, he says, changing the paths of his kiss to feel up your tummy instead. There is no other tummy on this earth which is as perfect as yours. Yoongi loves every single inch of it, memorising the paths of it with his eyes closed and his tongue tasting your skin hungrily.

By the time he reaches your lower tummy, your skin isn’t the only thing wet. You already were before, but now you are soaked, filling Yoongi’s nose with the sweetest scent.

“Your scent, holy fuck”, he murmurs into you as he buries his face in the softness of your inner thigh.

You reach down and twist his hair, bucking your hips up. His eyes open, meeting your gaze.

“Please”, you beg.

“Don’t rush it”, he whispers and switches legs, “relax princess, I’m getting there.”

“Oh god, I need it so bad”, you whine, tugging on his hair.

“Mhm, me too. Need to taste you so bad”, he lulls, running his tongue down your thigh. The contact is wet and hot, leaving you to throb around nothing.

He turns his head.

“Ah”, you moan without needing to be touched. The aspect of it is already enough to turn you weak.

“So fucking sweet”, he rasps, letting the words swirl over your pussy.

“Please”, you beg.

“Mhhm”, he purrs, drawing closer until you can feel his warmth radiate of his lips.

“Yoongi”, you moan, tugging on his hair.

“Cute”, he rasps, putting distance between you and your sweetest pleasure.

“No, back”, you beg, trying to push him down but he is stronger.

He chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he rasps, doing the unthinkable of sitting up.

Your fingers slip from his hair this way, gripping his belt loop instead.

“Please don’t”, you beg.

“Patience. I’m just getting the toys.”

“I just wanna be touched, please”, you whine, knowing that it is fruitless to beg.

“You’re adorable”, he says as he is busy with retrieving the bag.

Waiting for him to get the toys from his suitcase and return to bed is torture. You need his touch so bad.

Yoongi sits down next to you, opening the toy bag to look through it. Not that he has to do a lot of looking as he has all the toys sorted into their own compartments. He is organised like this. It’s so attractive that he is.

He opens the buttplug compartment and takes out the silicon toy. You eye it and gulp.

“You can stop this anytime you need to, yeah? I won’t be upset with you”, Yoongi says, who watches it happen.

“I don’t wanna stop. I’m just really excited.”

Yoongi smiles, “I’m excited too, my love”, he says shimmying down your body with the plug and lube equipped.

You open your legs without needing to be told to, looking at him with a racing heart.

The lube bottle opens with a click. Yoongi makes sure that he covers his fingers thoroughly.

“Relax”, he says and connects his lubed up fingers with your hole.

“Fuck. Yoongi”, you get out, closing your legs in reaction. They fall open again a second later, your hips squirm needily.

“You’re so perfect, my princess”, he praises, rubbing slow circles. You whine in reaction and buck your hips up. Yoongi understands instantly. It’s time for him to take the next step. With a little bit of pressure, he lets his middle finger slip inside.

You inhale sharply, releasing it as a shaky “oh god”, a second later. Your eyes fall closed and your nose scrunches up.

“There we go. All relaxed around me”, he praises, pumping his finger in and out slowly, “you’re doing so well.”

“It feels really good.”

“Yeah? It feels good for me too, princess. You’re so soft inside”, Yoongi says, curling his finger.

“More?”

“Already?”

“Yeah, please. I’m horny”, you giggled the last words, earning yourself a soft chuckle from him.

“Gladly”, Yoongi says and pushes his ring finger inside. You tense up, whimpering softly. He places his hand on your lower tummy and rubs slow circles on it, “relax your muscles, you’re too tense.”

“Sorry, it surprised me”, you say and follow instantly, shuddering because of how good it feels to relax. His fingers are filling you out so well, giving you just enough of a stretch that you are experiencing a constant wave of warm tingles.

“There we go, that’s so much better”, he praises and begins scissoring them carefully, “you’re doing such a good job, my lovely princess. Relax, my love, so good”, he talks you through the amazing sensation, switching his fond gaze between your wet pussy and glowing face.

“It’s so good”, you sigh, “I like it so much.”

“I love it too, princess”, he says and slips his thumb to your clit as a reward for being the most perfect.

And there you go, tensing up again. But this time for different reasons. You mewl, tilting your head back as your hips buck into his hand. All the teasing he did before left you feeling so sensitive that this simple touch is already too much.

“Relax for me, relax”, Yoongi says softly, rubbing your clit slowly.

“It’s hard when, when you m-make me wanna cum”, you stutter, writhing on the sheets.

“Cute”, Yoongi says, slipping his thumb from your clit even if that makes you whine for more.

“Edging noo, is…no”, you mumble, cracking him up.

“Whiney baby”, he teases, slipping his fingers out.

“Yoongi noo”, you whine, “I don’t have to cum, I lied.”

He laughs, “yeah sure. Relax princess, I’m getting the plug. Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you say, glancing down at it, “oh god, I’m so horny.”

“Me too, love.”

He rubs lube on it and connects it with your hole. He places his hands back on your tummy, sending you a comforting look.

“This will stretch you more than my fingers, but I believe in you”, he says and smiles, “but you can stop whenever, don’t forget that.”

“Just push it inside, please”, you beg, opening your legs wider.

Yoongi lets his eyes flit down to your middle. He applies pressure and after a second of struggle, the toy slips inside.

“Oh? Oh yeah that hah”, you chuckle and drop your head in the pillow.

“Too much?”

“Don’t stop, I’m good. It’s new, but I’m good”, you say, pushing into him. The toy slips deeper into you, faltering again when you reach the thickest part.

“Just one more time”, he encourages you and pushes gently.

“Yoongi”, you get out and then you reach for his hand to hold. He intertwines his fingers with you, looking at your face with his brows furrowed in concentration.

The plug slips inside, filling you out completely.

“Oh fuck”, you press out in a whisper, squeezing his hand.

“It’s bigger than my fingers, isn’t it?”

“Yeah?” you get out and mewl.

“You’re doing so well taking it that easily. I can take it out if you want.”

“No just…let me get used to it.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and places himself over you. Like this, his hands are on each side of your head dimpling the pillow and his black hair hangs into his face. “I’m so fucking proud of you, princess love.”

“Yoongi…kiss me”, you plead, feeling how deeply affected you are by his praise. You relax around the toy and your tummy tingles like crazy, “I’m, I’m serious if you don’t kiss me soon I’ll, I’ll start cry-”

Yoongi interrupts you by kissing you deeply. Your brain turns off, your body shudders in relief. You are kissing him. You are kissing your Yoongi. And it’s paradise.

You reach for him with a whimper of his name, twisting the front of his shirt. Yoongi lowers himself to his elbows, bending his arm in a way which allows him to cradle your head and play with your hair. The kiss to your lips breaks, but he litters your face with kisses and that makes up for it.

“Don’t cry, princess”, he whispers, “I’m right here”, he promises, nuzzling into your neck. Neck kisses feel like heaven on normal days, but he’s got you so charged that you could cry out for him right now.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, grabbing a bundle of his hair.

“Keep me close, princess”, he sighs, kissing a path to your cheek, “you’re doing so well with everything, I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

You spill tears. They were happy tears. Yoongi doesn’t notice them, kissing a path to your lips. He claims them, swallowing the whimper you let out. His right hand smoothes over your hair while his left arm snakes under your back. With a small show of strength he lifts your upper body, pressing you against his chest. He uses enough pressure that you can feel how all those tight knots in your chest burst. You didn’t even know that you had them, but feeling his warmth on your chest in a gentle and constant pressure relieved you of stresses you had sitting deep inside you.

“I love you”, you press out because this is all you get out. Yoongi smiles against your lips, kissing his way back to your neck.

“I love you too, princess.”

He lowers you back to the sheets and slips his left hand to your side instead.

“I love you so much”, you press out and sob softly.

“I love you so much too, princess”, Yoongi says, kissing his way down to your tummy.

You don’t like that he stops cradling you like this, but you can’t even complain because he is worshipping your tummy. His big hands are gliding over your waist, holding you safely, while his tongue and lips take the paths they already took before. But unlike before, it makes you twist the fucking pillow in desperation.

“I’m gonna go insane, princess”, Yoongi lulls, “you smell so fucking sweet. You know that?”

“Please don’t pull away again”, you beg, writhing in his strong hands. He is mere inches away from your pussy, “if, if you pull away I-I’ll cry.”

He chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says, “relax, my princess. I won’t pull away”, he whispers and buries his tongue between your folds.

“Oh my god! Yoongi!” you squeak put, closing your legs around his head and grabbing his hair with both hands.

Yoongi purrs, pushing your legs apart gently. He keeps his hands on your shaking thighs to rub them, purring around your clit as he sucks on her slowly.

“Yoongi!” you mewl, digging your head into the pillow as you arch your back. Your legs slip over his shoulders and kick his lower back.

“Mhm”, he grunts, punishing you by burying himself deeper.

“Yoongi please, holy fuck”, you sob, tugging at his hair to both push him closer and pull him away. You have no idea what you need more. A break or for him to never ever stop. And he barely even does anything. He merely purrs and sucks on your clit, includes the occasional lick and squeezes your thighs. Yoongi could eat your pussy differently. Trust, that he could be very different right now and yet this mere appetiser of what he could do is already enough to make you act like a pleasure dumb idiot.

“Yoongi”, another mewl of his name comes easy to you.

Yoongi answers you by breaking away from you and forcing that addictive fire in your pussy to die down again.

“Why?” you croak and sob, “Yoongi why?”

“You’re so cute, holy fuck I gotta fucking put you in my pocket, you cutest princess”, he babbles as he kisses a path down to your plugged hole.

He wraps his fingers around the base of the toy and with a kiss to your buttocks pulls it out of you. It feels warm and makes you moan. The girthiest part doesn’t hurt at all and the sensation of your hole closing up in sync with the toy getting thinner is unfamiliar but fucking addicting.

Yoongi wastes no unnecessary time. He is a smitten man on a mission. A mission to make his dream girl scream on his tongue. He dismisses the toy and grabs your hips. With just a little bit of his strength, he picks them up and tilts them so he can bury himself between your legs.

Your hole is still relaxed enough that he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He lets it grow until it’s a little longer than the plug was and it fills you out so well that he can feel your muscles trying to fight him.

“Yoongi”, his name slips off your tongue again and Yoongi feels your walls pulsate around his tongue. Your taste is richer than that of your pussy. Yoongi has to hump the mattress because of it, growling into you as he fucks you with his tongue.

“Oh god, holy fuck”, you moan, panting like crazy.

This feels as if you are getting the wettest and hottest toy stuck into you. You thought that getting your pussy fucked with it feels intense, but this is on a whole other level. You are so stretched out like this. Even more than you were when he plugged you. It doesn’t hurt at all. The kisses and touches and sweet licks made you so incredibly relaxed for him, his praises did the rest. So having his big, long tongue fuck your hole doesn’t hurt and yet it still feels as if you can’t do it. You shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be allowed to feel so goddamn good. Your legs shake and try to close on him, but Yoongi shakes you off, burying himself deeper until the tip of his nose is buried in your pussy.

“Fucknmgn”, the curse is muffled by your body, but it still reaches your ears. Your scent is quite literally suffocating him and Yoongi lets you know just what this does to him by wiggling his tongue quickly and using his neck muscles to grind his nose all over your pussy.

“Why are you doing this?” you keen, throwing your arm over your eyes, “please stop, Yoongi. Please stop, please.”

“Hey”, he is off of you instantly, “hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Please don’t do this, please just fuck me”, you beg, spilling tears, “I can’t take this anymore. Please just fuck me, please.”

Yoongi relaxes, slipping your legs from his shoulders to caress them instead.

“Don’t talk like this princess, I was so scared that I hurt you”, he whines, nudging you.

“It’s so good, I can’t breathe”, you whimper, sending him a blurry look, “I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”

“Never”, he says, leaning down to kiss your tummy, “fuck, I just really fucked it for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Now I know how you taste in both holes”, he chuckles deeply, “fuck baby, don’t expect me to be normal from now on. I’m gonna fucking live between your legs from now on.”

You mewl, “please fuck me. Please!”

“Are you sure?” he asks as he nibbles on your inner thigh. He is so close to your pussy that he brushes against you every now and then, “can’t I taste you more? Please?”

“I, I’ll cum if you do”, you stutter.

“Mhm, you’re torturing me”, he rasps and bites you just hard enough that you squeak.

“Please”, you giggle, twisting his hair.

He chuckles, kissing the sensitive spot, “fine, I’ll get ready.”

“Please.”

Yoongi breaks away from you to undress. Finally his tight jeans stop squishing his swollen cock. Yoongi throws them on the ground angrily. They were so painful to be stuck in. He steps out of his briefs and slips his shirt off. Then he runs his hands through his long hair. It falls prettily, framing his features.

“Jeans are products of demons, no fucking joke”, he says, climbing back on bed, “I think I bruised my cock.”

You snicker, “oh no, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, just glad to be with you again”, he assures you, connecting himself with you by caressing your hip, “let me fix you, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Yoongi lifts you and places you onto the mattress with you resting on your side. He pushes the leg, which rests on top, up the mattress, making sure that it’s bent by the knee. He runs his hand along your stockings and then up to your ass at the back of your leg.

“There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?” he speaks softly.

“Yeah…” you croak, twisting the sheets. You need him so bad that it hurts.

“Tell me when you need a pillow”, he says and breaks the touch for the sake of getting his cock ready.

“I’m comfy”, you say.

“That’s good. Fuck ___, I’m so fucking hard you have no idea”, he lulls his words and a wet squelching sound fills the air. He is definitely jerking himself off with the lube. The thought makes you leak.

“You won’t grow, will you? I don’t think that I can handle this yet”, you ask shyly.

“No princess, I won’t grow. Don’t be scared”, he assures you.

“Okay, thank you for telling me that”, you say and turn your head. He is close enough that you can reach behind yourself and touch his hip, “please don’t hold back anymore.”

He smiles and lets you tug him closer, placing his hand on your hip.

“I love it when you’re acting this way”, he says, holding his cock by its base so he can guide it to your hole. He pushes at your hip, fixing your position gently. Like this, you are exposed to him. Yoongi stares at it with ruby eyes, rubbing his wet cockhead against your hole.

“So pretty”, he lulls, licking his lips, “can’t believe I had my tongue in there. You’re so goddamn pretty.”

“Please”, you beg, arching into him.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect", Yoongi says and pushes into you.

The breach doesn’t hurt, but it’s unfamiliar. His cock is definitely bigger than any of the other amazing things you took up your ass tonight. His fingers were nice, the plug intense and his tongue maddening, but his cock is filling. The word isn’t the sexiest, but it’s the truth. You feel so whole now that he is slipping inside. Like a part missing has finally returned to you. You whimper and tense up, reaching for his hand instinctively.

“Hurts?” he asks.

You shake your head, giving him a pleading look to please keep going.

Yoongi smiles and squeezes your hand. His eyes flit back to where he disappears.

“Relax. I’ve got you”, he says and pushes deeper. His tummy tenses, and his brows furrow, “fuck. Relax my love, yeah? Relax”, his voice is shaking just a little.

“Yoongi, I’m so stuffed”, you mewl, looking at him with teary eyes. You are so glad that Yoongi filled you with his tongue before he did it with his cock. You don’t think that you could have handled how it is to truly feel him if it wasn’t for his tongue giving you the most intense sneak peek of it.

“Breathe for me, love. B-breathe oh fuck”, he falls to his hands, letting out a shaky moan. His hair falls into his face, “breathe. You gotta, gotta b-breathe.”

You can’t stop staring. His brows are furrowed, his lips curled back as he shows his fangs in a grunt. Being filled up by him starts to feel a million times better instantly. Which means a lot, because it already felt like heaven before that.

“Breathe baby, fucking breathe”, he gets out and moans, filling you with his last inch. “Mhngn”, he lets out, scrunching his nose up, “breathe”, he squeaks.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Mhm yeah, I’m fine. You just have the tightest ass ever, I’m fine”, he says in a pitched voice, making you laugh.

“Oh god, this is so funny”, you say.

“Don’t laugh, holy fuck”, he croaks and moans, grabbing your hand just to slam it into the sheets and pin it down. He rolls his hips into you in an involuntary thrust, his throat produces a little whimper.

“I can’t help it. I’m taking your cock, I’m happy”, you say between giggles.

“Fucking fuck, you’re gonna fucking kill me”, he presses out under his breath and somehow forces his eyes to open. He turns his head, looking down at you, “you’re such a fucking goddess. Holy fuck.”

You squirm, clenching around him. You try to reach for his face, but can’t as he pins you down. So you end up holding his wrist with your other hand, mewling his name as you tense around him again.

“Wanna move”, he lulls.

“Please move.”

Yoongi pulls out halfway so he can roll into you smoothly. The sensation feels electric, forcing an honest and loud moan out of you.

“Yes princess, keep moaning for me. I fucking love it when you do”, he encourages you, ending it with a small whimper again, “I’m gonna fucking cry. You’re so tight, holy fuck”, he whispers under his breath, chasing you in deep rolls of his hips.

In and out, in and out. Feeling each of those movements so quickly after the other is a whole other experience. When he played with your hole or stuffed it, you didn’t have this constant change. But now you do and it’s making you gasp for air.

“That’s it, princess. Keep breathing”, his voice is hoarse from exhaustion, “I’m gonna have to fucking nut soon, but don’t mind me.”

“God, don’t tell me that, you’re making me laugh again”, you say, having to crack up.

“Yeah fuck, it’s happening”, he says and groans, letting his mouth fall open. His hand squeezes yours as his cock throbs deep inside you, “you’re so fucking mean”, he whines, shaking atop of you.

“Yoongi”, you gasp and moan, “Yoongi, holy fuck. Are you actually?”

“Yeah…baby”, he purrs.

It sticks to your insides warm and wet. He is actually cumming right now. Two minutes and he is a goner. The thought that it is your ass which broke him so soon, makes you dizzy. You chase him with rolls of your hips, tensing up at the feeling. You’re so tight and now you're spreading his cum all over his cock, getting messy in the process. He slips in and out of you so much better, filling your veins with ecstatic pleasure.

“Yeah, yah, mhm”, he lets out, lowering his head to kiss your cheek, “fuck”, he chuckles, “sorry for that, I’d have died if I didn’t let go.”

“It’s fine. Just…I want more.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good now. Fuck princess”, he straightens up, grabbing your leg to bend it and open you up for him, “imma fuck that bred, little hole until you’re screaming”, he rasps, finally moving his hips. He starts off in a slow, yet deep rhythm, spreading you open for him with a strong hand pushing down on your hip and therefore keeping it tilted just for him. It gives your muscles a gentle stretch and opens you up so well for him that you can feel how you move around him.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, tilting your head back as your mouth falls open.

“Does it hurt? I can slow down”, he speaks with a deep rasp on his voice. You know that overstimulation is keeping his cock sensitive, but because you’re dating a literal maniac he uses the pain as motivation to get you off.

“Don’t slow, please faster”, you beg.

He speeds up, putting a smooth roll of his hips into the movements. His fingers dimple your flesh, his naked thighs collide with the back of your legs and his cock shapes your creamed hole. Like this, his hair slaps into his face each time he moves, forcing him to keep his eyes closed in order not to the get it all in them. He grunts each time he bottoms out, giving you glimpses of his fangs whenever he pulls his lips back.

“More, I need more”, you beg.

“Yeah? Reach into the bag, there’s a vibe in there.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You know exactly where to look. You used the toy on too many occasions to count. With trembling fingers you turn it on and press it to your clit.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, writhing under him.

“That’s it, princess. Make yourself feel good. Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect”, he praises, using the grip he has on your thigh to pull you onto his cock. He meets his own movements in the middle, rolling his hips into you.

“It’s a lot”, you mewl.

“Yeah? I’ll slow down”, he assures you, but you start rutting back into him instantly, “fuck princess”, he is laughing lazily, “stop whining ‘bout it bein’ too much when you don’ mean it”, he lulls, connecting his hand with your buttock in a gentle spank, “so fuckin’ naughty.”

“More”, you beg, “you’re making me cum. More.”

Yoongi spanks you gently, gripping the flesh afterwards to part you and stuff you with his cock. His creamy cum is leaking out of you and covering his cock. The quick movements of his hips turned it all white and milky by now. Yoongi fucks it right back into you, covering your stretched rim with it and parts of his dark pubes. The view motivates him to fuck you deeper, harder, better.

“You’re so fucking perfect being all bred by me. My own perfect cum goddess”, he pants, slamming into you so hard that his balls slap your ass.

You mewl for more, clenching around him. And so Yoongi gives it to you. He spanks your ass, holding you open afterwards to watch his cock disappear inside your tight hole.

“Now”, you croak and yelp up.

“Yes fuck”, Yoongi growls, burying himself to the hilt and staying right there so he can feel you pulsate and throb, “you’re so fucking perfect, shit princess so perfect.”

“It feels so good”, you mewl, shaking like crazy as your body fills with warmth, “Yoongi, it feels so good.”

“I know baby, I know. Keep it right there, you’re not done yet”, he says and begins moving again. Slowly at first because he is aware that you never experienced cock up your ass so soon after your high. You are tight. So goddamn tight that if Yoongi hadn’t climaxed already, he would have done so right now. He grinds his teeth and growls deeply, dimpling your flesh from gripping you so tightly, “keep breathin’ baby, I’m not done. You gotta get fucked more, my perfect woman.”

“Yoongi”, his name leaves you like a prayer. You push back into him, thanking yourself for doing so as Yoongi uses the opportunity to tug you into another position. Resting on your tummy and with your hips held up by him. You use zero strength, shaking in his hands as Yoongi keeps pulling you onto his creamed cock.

“Such a pretty princess, you’re made for my cock. It’s fucking insane how good you feel”, he praises and moans in a deep growl. His hips are angled differently this way.

“What are you doing?” you mewl, kicking the sheets. You try to writhe away from him for the sole reason of being scared of how hard you are falling. You can feel his cock hit your g-spot this way. You know that he is still in your ass, as you feel stuffed to the brim, but he is still hitting your g-spot. He shouldn’t be able to do this to you and yet he is. You can’t handle it, it’s too good. You can’t handle it. “What are you doing?” you sob, barely holding onto the vibrator by now.

“Keep the vibe there, princess”, Yoongi orders you, eyes glued to your ass. He can’t believe how beautiful you look when he fucks you.

“What are you doing? Yoongi please”, your voice is pitched in pleasure, your legs are shaking like crazy.

“You know what I’m doing. I’m giving it to you how you fucking deserve it. Feel how I give it to you?” he says, slamming his hips into you. Your ass is filled to the brim and your g-spot gets hit.

You moan his name, arching into him. This is going to break you into a million pieces.

“Yeah you do. You’re such a perfect, fucking woman, you deserve everything. Fucking everything. Fuck”, he growls the last word, throwing his head back as his body falls into the sensations. His hair tickles his shoulders this way, reflecting the deep shine of your bedside lamp. His lips part, glistening in the lights and looking especially pink.

Not that you can see any of this as you are falling right with him with your face buried in the pillow, moaning like crazy as he scrambles your insides in the best way possible. Night has been kissing the earth for way too many minutes to count and yet you haven’t noticed yet. He makes you see the brightest colours behind your closed lids. A warm summer rain has started to fall on the earth and even that you didn’t notice as all you can hear are Yoongi’s ecstatic grunts and your bodies connecting in sinful movements. Also the hum of the vibrator and it’s fucking taunting it. Your clit is going to burst if you keep pressing it on there and yet you don’t want to take it away. You rub a small circle, regretting instantly as you feel how this forces your body to fall even harder.

“You’re making me cum”, you mewl with your pussy throbbing around nothing and his cock drilling your ass so good it feels like he is rewriting your definition of pleasure.

“Don’t hold back, love. Fall into it, I’m right here. Fade into me, baby”, he encourages you, fucking his cock into you as deep as possible and hitting your g-spot exactly where you are the most sensitive.

“Yoongi!” you yelp, breaking around him.

“Yes princess, that’s what I want from you”, Yoongi growls, picking you up even if you are shaking like crazy. He sits back onto his heels and bounces you on his lap. You are kneeling, barely holding your head up straight, “you perfect fucking goddess, cum for me”, he spits and presses his hand into your tummy with just enough pressure that you can physically feel how he is squeezing your g-spot against his cock.

It feels like there is no barrier between him and your favourite spot. You scream up, dropping the vibrator. At least you try to as before it slips out of your fingers, Yoongi takes your hand and presses it back against your clit. He hugs your waist this way, slamming his hips into you so harshly the room fills with loud sounds of skin slapping against skin and the bedposts croaking for help.

“Don’t stop”, he growls, “you perfect woman are gonna keep that pressed there until you’re wetting my fucking thighs.”

“Yoongi, I can’t”, you sob, reaching behind yourself just so you can grip him. You manage to grab a bundle of his hair, twisting it painfully.

Yoongi moans against your neck, squeezing you closer by your tummy. The pressure in it grows, now it actually feels as if he was fucking you without any barriers. But you know that he is. You know because your stretched hole has been convulsing around his cock ever since he started drilling you this way.

And you can’t take it anymore. The vibrator on your clit hurts so much, the pressure in your tummy is too much and his cock is ruining your ass. And there is this addictive feeling of having his naked, sweaty and hot body pressed against yours.

You break apart, screaming his name as you almost rip out his hair. And Yoongi growls like a fucking animal, fucking and squeezing and holding you hostage until you finally act how he wants you to act and you wet his thighs in harsh, strong spurts of warm pleasure.

“Yes princess. Fuck, ___”, he moans and fills you with his cum. You smell so good and feel so tight around him, Yoongi just has to make sure that the last thing your hot walls feel is his creamy cum marking you as his’. They should remember who can stretch and fuck and drill them so good. Moaning and panting like crazy, he fucks you both through your highs, milking your bodies dry until they can’t give any more.

“No more, please. Actually stop”, you beg once the fire of pleasure turned into the painful burn of overstimulation and his cock feels painfully big in your tight ass.

“You’re already done”, Yoongi speaks gently, turning off the vibrator and throwing it to the side, “take a deep breath, I’m lifting you.”

You follow, releasing it in a loud gasp as he slides you off of him. His cum squirts out of you instantly, ruining even more of his lap.

“Sorry, oh god”, you whimper, trying to clench.

“It’s okay, let it happen”, he soothes you, “you did so well, my love. Don’t worry about the mess, just relax”, he says and places you in the sheets as gently as possible.

He drapes his arm over you, resting on his hand so he can nuzzle into the side of your face and kiss you.

“I’m so proud of you, you did amazing”, he praises.

“I’m, I’m”, you stutter, shivering like crazy.

Yoongi presses himself closer, warming you with the naked skin on skin contact.

“I’ll get something to clean you and then you can already slip under the sheets, yeah?”

You nod your head, looking up at him with teary eyes. He dries your cheeks, holding your face safely.

“Does anything hurt?” he asks.

“No”, your voice is hoarse, “Yoongi?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I felt you against my g-spot.”

He smiles, “I know. Did you like it?”

“Yes”, you whisper and giggle.

“I loved it too, my princess”, he says and kisses your forehead, “you did fucking amazing for your first time. You took me so, so well.”

“It was the best first time ever”, you say, wiggling happily, “you’re the best person ever, Yoongi Boongie.”

“Mhm”, he pecks your cheek, “no, you are. Now excuse me for a moment, I’ll clean us up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, my love.”

“I’m so happy with you.”

Yoongi feels his tummy flutter, “I’m so fucking happy too, you have no idea.”

He cleans your bodies, brings you water and changes the sheets. He talks about the experience with you in great detail as he does all those things, listening to your words with great interest and speaking his own with a warm sparkle in his eyes. You both come to the same conclusion that you really needed to do it again in the near future. Afterwards, he tucks you into bed and plays with your hair because you asked him if he could. And you feel so well taken care of that you could burst into the most colourful of fireworks.

The rain is loud on the roof above your heads, filling the room with a constant pitter patter. His face is mere inches away from yours as you share a pillow. Your heads are almost hidden under the blanket, looking out just enough that you can still breathe. He is still caressing your face and head. You are this close to falling asleep, but don’t want to close your eyes. You don’t want to miss out on his face. His hair is all messy, but in a pretty, breathtaking kind of way and his features are looking so pretty in the dim lights. He is truly the most beautiful person ever and your heart races like crazy when you think about the fact that he is yours.

“Should we buy a house here?” he breaks the comfortable silence in a soft spoken voice.

“What do you mean?” you answer him with your voice lowered as well.

“We could buy a house here. With a view of the ocean and a sun flooded kitchen overseeing the garden”, he says, “let’s buy one that needs renovating, so we can do it together. I have ideas for the living room. I’m thinking conversation pit with a huge sofa to cuddle on. Maybe mould it outta clay, paint it blue, but you’re better with colours so I need your advice on that. And I want a bathtub in the bathroom, a big one so we both fit.”

“You wanna buy a house with me?” you ask in a trembling voice.

“I’d buy a castle with you, but we already have one”, he says, making you giggle and sniffle at the same time. He chuckles, booping your nose with his pointer finger.

“Yoongs, I don’t know what to say”, you get out, blinking rapidly.

“Yes, maybe?”

“You know my answer already, my beloved.”

“Please say it, it’ll feel so good.”

You smile, spilling tears, “yes Yoongs, let’s buy a fucking house here and get a goddamn conversation pit in the living room and a huge bathtub in the bathroom and, and let’s plant food in the garden and goddamn build a path to the beach. Goddamn it.”

Yoongi smiles, tearing up without ever spilling them.

“My love”, he whispers, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over your skin, “you’re my fucking everything.”

“You’re my fucking everything too, my love”, you say, closing the distance between you and him to kiss him.

Yoongi wraps his arms around and rolls you to your back, getting lost in the kiss with you as happy giggles rumble in his chest.

Days here at the coast are good. Great. Perfect. The days here are perfect.

522 notes · View notes

loulovingho · 4 months ago

Text

Carry the Burden

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

Summary:

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

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

“Hm. Dad's in town.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His parents.

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

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

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

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

“He texted me,” Tommy answered simply.

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

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

“But he is now?”

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

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

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

Buck read over the text:

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

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

Tommy shook his head. “No, I am not.”

“Aren't you a little curious...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is.”

“You're not him.”

“I'm not.”

“Where is he?”

Well, this conversation was going swimmingly!

“I- I'm sorry, who... are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You work together?”

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Charles.”

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“Okay.”

This truly was a man of few words.

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

The door opened before Buck could get to it.

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

“Just chicken. Um, Tommy-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hello to you too, TJ.”

TJ? That was new.

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

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

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

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

“You know how I am with subtleties.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Decided I don't care.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You need to go. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N- No, um, no, I'm good.”

“I'm not getting any younger, TJ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, just listen-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out.” Tommy demanded. “Now!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So that's what Buck did.

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

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

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

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

So he held him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tommy, I don't-”

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

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

He stood there long after the door had closed.

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knew he'd never get the chance again.

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

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

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

Kids at school would make fun of his weight.

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

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

He'd cry.

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

So he didn't cry.

But he let himself be mad.

Because he was so damn mad.

Mad at himself.

Mad at his dad.

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

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

He hated that.

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

No, mad wasn't the right word.

Envious, maybe.

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

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

And that's where the envy came in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His dad bothered him regardless.

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

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

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

He definitely didn't deserve Evan.

Evan.

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

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

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

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

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

A nod. “Let's dissect that.”

They did.

It sucked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A sigh. “Tommy, how old are you?”

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

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

“Forty-two.”

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

Emptiness, maybe?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why don't you tell him?”

“Because...”

“Because?”

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

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

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

“Don't you help carry his?”

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

“S'okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you love it.”

“I suppose I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another eye roll. “Absolutely not.”

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

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

“Aye!”

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

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

“I hope it tastes good.”

“I'm sure it will.”

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

“Yeah, it was.”

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

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

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

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

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

They were forever. Evan was his forever.

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

“Practically everything,” Buck agreed.

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

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

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

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

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 #tevan #kinley

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