#Tevan fic
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burns like iron in the back of my mind
rated: t
@badthingshappenbingo
square: cradling someone in their arms (chapter 3)
Evan looked much better than he had back at the house— still bruised and now bandaged, but they had at least gotten the blood washed off him. His face lit up with a smile as he met Tommy’s before a cloud pulled over his face with a frown. “You got stabbed?!” “Uh oh—” “Only a little bit,” Tommy said. “It didn’t hit anything important—”
read chapter 4 on ao3
COMPLETE!!
thanks to @morgangilloryy for everything!! ilu ����
tags: @morgangilloryy @broadwayshelbay @actuallyitsellie @jacki-daytona @tiltingheartand
@rdng1230 @racerchix21 @bangpop91 @unhingedangstaddict @ladyeyrewrites
@girlwonder-writes @herrmannhalsteadproduction @theotherbuckley @weewookinard @thecarrott
@sunnywithachanceofbi @a-mel0n @laundryandtaxesworld @ambernotember
@beanarie @tennybae @inalandofmerthurandatimeoftevan @son-heir @typicalopposite
@geniusjester @bi-bi-buckleys @cinderellarhea @cliophilyra @kinardsevan
@bidisasterevankinard @hyperfocusthusly @tommykinard217 @renytherat @rubydaiquiri
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan#tevan fic#kinley#evan buckley#tommy kinard#my writing#arson fixit#bthb#bad things happen bingo#911
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Love is in the Air (Cupid Chim Remains Undefeated)
A birthday fic for the amazing @typicalopposite! Her birthday was on Tuesday (everyone say Happy Birthday!) and the theme she chose was Valentine's Day shenanigans. Here you go, my friend! Enjoy!
Love is in the Air (Cupid Chim Remains Undefeated)
BuckTommy | Rated: G | 4.9K
Summary:
Forced to work during L.A. Love Fest - a street festival devoted entirely to Valentine's Day - a still-pining-for-Tommy Buck is stuck manning the Safe Transfer and Incineration station. Luckily, Cupid has a few surprises in store for him...
Excerpt:
“Cap, please,” Buck begged as he followed Bobby up the stairs to the firehouse loft. “This is cruel and—and—and unusual punishment! You can’t do this to me!”
“What are we doing to Buck?” Chimney popped out from where he’d been rummaging through the fridge; a couple of celery sticks in one hand, Buck’s jar of natural peanut butter in the other, and a stupidly big grin on his face.
Buck glared at him, but that only made the grin get impossibly wider as Chim dunked a piece of celery into the jar—Buck’s jar—and then chomped in Buck’s general direction.
Rude.
But not as rude as Bobby right now—
[Continue reading on ao3]
And because they're fun, here's a mood board to go with it!
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#kinley#tevan#kinley fic#tevan fic#valentine's day#evan 'buck' buckley#tommy kinard#buck x tommy#howard 'chimney' han#cupid#valentine's day shenanigans#fluff#crack fic#getting back together#fix it#happy birthday to rebecca!#birthday gift#gift fic
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For @bucktommyfluffebruary day 14: valentines day
A/N: Yes this is super late and I know it's not February anymore, but my mind wasn't cooperating much in Feb and I do have partially written, waiting to be finished fics/ficlets for all of the days, so this year we're *extending* February. How long for though - nobody knows.
---
Secret Valentine (AO3)
Probie!Buck x 118!Tommy
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You think you're invisible but you're not. I see you and I think you're wonderful. Love, your valentine.
Tommy looked around, trying to make sense of it all.
"Did you do this?" he asked Sal, holding up the card.
"Do what?"
"This!" he shoved the card in Sal's face.
He pulled a face as he read the message and looked at the puppy holding a rose and "be my valentine" in the front.
"Why would I send you a valentines day card?"
"I don't know, to fuck with me? Make me think there's someone out there who wants to date me and then laugh at me when I fall for it?"
"That's a good one actually. I should remember that for next year." Sal said, flicking the card back at Tommy and closing his locker. "But it wasn't me."
"Who was it then?"
"How should I know? Maybe it was Howie? Or one of the girls? Maybe someone from B-shift? Maybe a member of the public dropped it off for you?"
"Then how did it end up in my locker?"
Sal shrugged.
"I don't know. I guess someone could have put it in there for them?"
"Without telling me?"
"You'd find it eventually, wouldn't you?" Sal shrugged again. "Hey probie, do you know anything about the card in Tommy's locker?" he asked Buck who had just walked into the locker room too to change at the end of their shift.
"What card?"
"That's a no then."
Tommy held up the card.
"This was in my locker. Did you see anyone put it in?"
Buck shook his head.
"I've been busy all day. I haven't been in here since the start of shift."
Tommy sighed and looked at the card again.
"It's kind of cute. With the puppy." Buck commented, nodding at the card. "Or don't you like dogs?"
"Uh no I do... I like dogs just fine. I just don't like pranks like this."
"Maybe it's not a prank? Maybe someone actually likes you and they're too shy to say it."
Tommy snorted.
"Yeah right."
"The kid is a romantic, Tom, not a cynical asshole like you." Sal joked and swung his duffel over his shoulder. "I am going to spend my 48 off with my wife. It's our last valentines day before the baby arrives and we're going to make the most of it. And I'm not going to think about any of you until the minute our next shift begins." he gave Tommy a mock salute as he walked past him out of the locker room.
"It's him. I know it's him." Tommy told Buck. "Maybe he got Gina to do it... But I know he's playing a prank on me."
"Why are you so convinced it's a prank? I think someone out there actually really likes you."
"Those things only happen in movies probie." Tommy said, shoving the card into his bag and closing his locker. "Real life doesn't work that way."
He walked out of the station to his car, mostly annoyed at Sal for not owning up to his prank.
It wasn't like they hadn't played pranks on each other before, and Sal was his best friend, he could take a fake valentine's card from him.
If only he'd just admit it.
He debated calling Gina to see if she knew about Sal's prank (and get her on his side and pressure Sal into coming clean. She was six months pregnant, Sal wouldn't dare argue with her) but when he got to his truck there was some kind of paper stuck under the windshield wiper.
For a moment he thought it was a ticket and he tried to figure out what possible laws he could have broken while parked outside a fire station, but upon closer inspection it turned out to be an envelope. One with his name on it at that.
He opened the envelope and inside was another card.
It was a simple card with a teddy bear holding a love heart saying happy valentine's day on the front.
Drive safe, the roads can be dangerous and I like you in one piece. Love, your valentine.
It was cute but he was also getting more annoyed with Sal. One card in his locker was enough.
He looked at the message in the card again. He had to admit it didn't look anything like Sal's handwriting. Or Gina's.
Maybe they got someone else to write it for them. And unsuspecting neighbour maybe.
He put the card in his bag with the other one, and drove home, planning on ignoring both the cards and the upcoming holiday.
His 48 off might as well have been a full shift with how busy he'd been catching up on chores around the house, as well as drinks with his brother and his team to celebrate his divorce going through.
And yeah maybe he'd had a few too many and was still recovering when he clocked into work at the start of his next shift.
Though he was nothing if not a professional so he forced some breakfast down and got on with his work.
Thankfully the 911 gods were on his side and no calls had come in all morning, and by midday he had finished most of his jobs around the station and figured he deserved a nap.
The alarm would wake him if any calls came in.
He dragged himself to the bunk room and crashed onto his bunk without looking or even bothering to take his boots off.
He tried to get comfortable but there was something under his pillow bothering him.
He shoved a hand underneath to get rid of whatever it was, whatever the guys had put under there, but frowned when he felt something plastic. It crinkled and it felt like a bag of sorts.
He sat up and pulled it out. In his hand was a small gift bag with a tiny card hanging from the ribbon tying it shut.
Here are some sweet hearts for a sweetheart. Love, your valentine.
"What the fuck Deluca..." Tommy muttered under his breath. He turned the bag over in his hands. It seemed like a regular gift bag just about every store sold around this time of year, and didn't look like it had been tampered with.
He opened the bag and shook the candy hearts out into his hand. They looked like every candy heart he'd ever seen. Just plain pastel coloured hard candy hearts with "Be Mine" on them.
He popped one in his mouth and hoped not even Sal was cruel enough to give him candy with laxatives in them.
After what felt like only five minutes the station alarm woke Tommy up and he rushed down to the truck bay on auto pilot. He stepped into his turnout pants and boots on muscle memory and yanked on the coat while all but throwing himself into the truck.
He was the last one in but hardly late.
"Nice of you to join us, Thomas." Sal joked.
Tommy rolled his eyes and put his headset on.
"Fuck you Deluca." He shot back and Sal laughed. "Just drive this thing and tell me where we're going."
"Structure fire on the east side of town. The abandoned warehouses."
He got assigned to work with the probie when they arrived on scene, which suited him just fine. The kid had good instincts.
The whole crew worked together to clear the warehouse that turned out not to be so abandoned after all.
A group of homeless people had set up camp in the place and it was filled with blankets, cardboard, and all kinds of trash. The whole thing was about as far from fire safe as it could get.
Thankfully there were no casualties and only a few people with minor smoke inhalation.
They were doing a final sweep of the building to make sure they hadn't missed anything and all fires were definitely out.
"This is probably what started the fire." Buck commented, putting out a small fire in the makeshift kitchen with the foam extinguisher he'd brought along.
"Yeah the whole place is a death trap." Tommy agreed. "It's a miracle everyone made it out alive." he looked around, satisfied there didn't seem to be any spot fires or anything smouldering. "I think we're done here, let's go." he turned around and took a step and the second he put his foot down, he knew he was in trouble. The floorboards gave out and he felt himself fall. Only the expected crash onto the floor below never came.
"I've got you, I've got you." Buck groaned while trying to drag Tommy out of the hole in the floor. "Almost there."
When Tommy's brain registered what was going on, he did his best to help Buck pull him up.
With one last big effort, Buck hauled him onto solid ground and the two of them collapsed into each other.
"You ok? Are you hurt?" Buck panted.
"I don't think so. Thanks to you." Tommy pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Nice reflexes." he patted Buck's shoulder.
"T-thanks." the other man stammered. "I didn't think... I just... did."
"I'm glad. It would've been a long way down if you hadn't." Tommy said and gave Buck's shoulder a squeeze before letting go.
Buck blushed slightly and ducked his head and Tommy couldn't help but think he looked absolutely adorable.
He was as out and proud as he could be at work, and he wasn't blind. He'd always thought Buck, Evan he reminded himself, was a good looking guy, but he wasn't going to make a move on a coworker, especially not one he wasn't sure was actually into men.
He'd resigned himself to just admiring the guy from afar.
They made it back to the truck without any more trouble and the ride back to the station was quiet. Everyone was tired, and when Tommy checked his watch he realised they'd been working the call for most of the afternoon.
"Well done everyone. I'm taking us offline for an hour." Bobby announced over the comms. "So we have some time to clean up and power up for the next call."
A murmur of appreciation came through the comms as reply.
As soon as Sal had parked the truck, the crew piled out. They kicked their gear off in the bay, ready to step back into for the next call.
"I need a shower." Tommy announced to nobody in particular.
"Do you want me to wash your back, dear?" Sal teased.
"Not today sweetcheeks, I have a headache." Tommy replied with a grin and headed to his locker to grab his shampoo and a clean towel.
There was nobody else in the showers so he enjoyed the fact that he didn't have to share the water pressure with the rest of the crew and scrubbed the soot off his skin.
He cleaned himself up wrapping a towel around his waist when he was done and making his way back to the lockers to get dressed.
Only when he walked in there, he almost ran right into Buck.
"Oh... s-sorry." he stammered. "Di-did you have a nice shower?"
"Sure. Had the whole thing to myself." Tommy replied. He felt the other man's eyes trail over his body and for a second he wondered if he'd missed the signs and Evan Buckley was into men after all.
"T-that's nice. I uh... was looking for laundry. Do you uh want me to take your towel?" he held out his hand.
"Give me a minute to get dressed." Tommy grinned. "I wouldn't want to flash you. Not at work anyway."
"Oh. Oh. Right. Yes. Of course. Sorry. I'll uh... I can turn around."
"It's alright. It's only been used once. I'll just hang it up to dry."
"Oh yeah. Ok. Sure. Sure thing. Yes. I'll... I'll just... go... and let you get dressed."
Tommy smiled as Buck ducked out the locker room.
Maybe he'd ask him out some time. Take him to a club and see if he could make him blush on the dance floor too.
He grabbed the bag with his toiletries to put his stuff away and frowned when he saw a note that definitely hadn't been in there before.
It was just a simple page from a department issued notebook, torn out and folded in half.
I know valentine's day is all about secretly admiring someone and anonymously telling them how you feel, but I want you to know who I am. Just for that tiny chance that you might actually feel the same. That you see me too. That you like me too.
I made reservations at Micelis under your name for this Friday at 8. I hope I'll see you there.
I'll be the one with a red rose.
Love, your valentine
"Jesus Deluca." Tommy muttered. "That's a lot of effort for a prank."
That Friday, he arrived at the restaurant almost 15 minutes late. He'd talked himself in and out of going more than once, but in the end decided a free (because there was no way in hell he was paying to get pranked) dinner with his best friend wasn't a bad way to spend an evening. And maybe he'd go to a bar or a club afterwards. Maybe Sal would want to come along. He could be an asshole sometimes, but he was a good wingman and could usually help him get rid of idiots and get with the guy he did like.
They had a routine that had worked for them since the academy, back when Sal was the only one who knew Tommy was gay, and they only went to gay bars in other cities so they wouldn't risk running into any familiar faces.
"Hi, reservation for Kinard. I don't think my friend is here yet." he told the waitress when he walked in as he looked around for Sal.
"Oh you're here!" she said happily. "We were starting to think he'd been stood up. He's been here since 7.30"
Tommy frowned, wondering why Sal would be there that early when he'd said the reservation was at 8.
He followed the waitress to a table and audibly gasped when he saw not Sal but Evan Buckley sitting at the table, fidgeting with a red plastic rose.
He stood up and smiled when he saw Tommy.
"Hey, you came."
"Just fashionably late." the waitress joked and put two menus on the table. "I'll be back in a minute when you've made your choice, can I get you a drink in the meantime?"
"Uhm just water for me, thanks." Buck told her.
She nodded and gave Tommy an expectant look.
"Oh uh... Just a beer. Whatever is on tap."
"Coming right up." she said happily and all but skipped back to the kitchen.
"You... you left the card in my locker?" Tommy asked as he sat down at the table.
"Y-yeah... uh ... surprise..." Buck said and blushed. "I uh... didn't know how else to get your attention."
"You... wanted my... attention?"
"Yeah... I... I... I like you. Everything I wrote in those cards is true. I just... I didn't know if you were interested and... I uh... was kind of... afraid of asking you out. But then... I thought we had a... uhm... a moment... On that call a few days ago."
"When you saved me in the warehouse."
"Y-yeah... so I just... kind of... stole a notepad from Bobby's office and wrote you that note while you were in the shower. And hoped you'd show up tonight."
"I thought it was Sal playing a prank on me."
Buck bit his lip.
"No. It was me. And it's not a prank."
"I didn't know you were into guys." Tommy said, still trying to process the information.
"It's... new... I guess. I didn't know either. Or... realise. I thought I was checking you out in the gym because of your work out routine... But then I talked to my roommate and he uh... made me think about some things. Like that most straight guys don't check out another guy's ass. " Buck confessed and he was bright red.
"You've been checking me out?"
"Sorry. I'm making it weird. I always do that. I'm sorry. Just... forget I said anything."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Wha-what?"
"I didn't expect to see you here... But I'm not complaining."
"Y-you're not?"
"Evan look at yourself. You're hot, you're adorable... for some reason you like me... If I'd known you liked men I would have asked you out ages ago."
"Really?"
"Well... I don't know if I would have had the nerve to ask you out... but... maybe I would have pushed myself to be brave for a change.
"Y-yeah?"
"Yeah." Tommy confirmed and smiled when Buck put his hand on the table, clearly hoping Tommy would reach out and take it, which he did and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles.
"I was so scared you would turn me down... Since... since we work together and I'm still in my probie year and..." Buck trailed off, not knowing what he was going to say.
"The LAFD doesn't have to know everything." Tommy said after a beat. "We can just... keep this between us for now can't we? Just... enjoy each other's company and see where things go."
Buck smiled.
"Yeah... Yeah ok. That... that sounds nice." he licked his lips and took a deep breath to say something, just when the waitress came back with their drinks.
"Have you come to a decision yet?" she asked in the same happy tone of voice as before.
"Yeah." Tommy said and got up and he saw the brief flicker of panic spread over Evan's face and he realised the other man thought he was leaving. He stepped round the table, leaned down, put two fingers under Evan's chin and gently tilted his face up so he could kiss him. "Was that ok?" he asked after and Evan could only smile and nod. "Good. Because I'd like to do that again."
"I... I would like that." Evan stammered.
"God you're adorable." Tommy murmured and leaned down for another kiss
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Oh, Darling, Please Be Mine
Prompt: Proposal
@bucktommyfluffebruary
A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/162762577
Tommy felt his heart hammering in his chest as he led Evan up to the edge of the clearing, where it was easiest to see the ocean from, praying that he didn’t pass out before he asked him the question that he knew would change his life…
…but he also knew that he didn’t just want to dive right into it. He had a plan.
Once they were finally up there, he turned and said, “You know you’re the first person I’ve ever shared this place with?” and his boyfriend nodded and quipped, “Yeah, you, uh…you kinda mentioned that before,” and the airman flushed, feeling his stomach flip at the adorable smile on the younger man’s face, a part of him still terrified that he was making the wrong decision. God, what if Evan said no? Even worse, what if he laughed at him? What if—
No. He cut off the line of thought before it could get worse and took a deep breath.
“Yeah, well…this has always been where I’ve felt the safest, you know?” Tommy started to explain, wanting Evan to truly understand why that place was important to him. “When…when things got bad at home, I always knew I could come here and no one would find me. Here is where I learned to accept…well…me. All of me.”
At that, Evan’s brow unfurrowed and he knew he was getting through to him and let out a sigh of relief and pulled him closer, moving them to a spot where they could sit, echoing their positions from before.
His boyfriend pressed up into him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, and Tommy felt himself settle.
“When I realized I liked boys, it was here. When…when I realized I never wanted to be my father, it was here. I learned how to make paper cranes here, too,” he added with an embarrassed nod of his head, and his boyfriend’s eyes lit up and he unintentionally interrupted, “You can make paper cranes?” but stopped when Tommy shot him a look, for which he was grateful, and he grasped at his hand with his own. “I also learned that most relationships take a hell of a lot of work and some people…like my parents…don’t know how to put in the work…”
His voice trailed off and he felt the mood shift slightly and felt bad for doing that, not wanting to make his boyfriend feel bad for him and swiftly tried to change the conversation back to a lighter note by saying, “But I’d like to think I’ve figured out a thing or two,” and ran his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles.
“I think you’ve been doing pretty good,” Evan said, shooting him a puppy-eyed look with those perfectly blue eyes of his.
Tommy’s stomach flipped. Again.
The ring in his pocket felt like a lead weight.
He couldn’t decide if the weight was one of promise or one of dread—he loved Evan with all his heart, but there was still some insidious voice in the back of his mind that was telling him that he would ruin everything by asking him to marry him. God, he loved the idea of hearing Mr. Kinard, or maybe even Mr. Buckley-Kinard coming from his lips…but his fear of him saying no somehow weighed more than the prospect of him saying yes, and it was holding him back.
He bit at the inside of his cheek and then turned his eyes to the horizon, taking in the view, and instead of saying what he wanted to, instead said, “It was also here where I decided to go into the army. I used to stare out at this view and all I could think of was being in the air, getting away from it all, you know?”
Evan nodded.
“So…this place was for you what my little hunting shack was for me?” he remarked, and Tommy hummed in the back of his throat and replied, “Yeah, I guess it was. I spent hours here pretending to fly off to places across the ocean. I used to make up countries that didn’t exist. I, uh…I always liked the idea of finding an island filled with dinosaurs,” he softly admitted, hoping that he wasn’t embarrassing himself…
…and was taken aback when his boyfriend said, “Oh, you mean like those Dinotopia books?”
He arched an eyebrow.
“You don’t know Die Hard or Love Actually, but you know one of the most obscure books series from the early nineties?” he asked, incredulous, unable to keep from lightly chuckling at the anachronism, shaking his head as Evan shrugged with a sheepish grin on his face, still trying to understand aspects of the young man in front of him, wondering if he would ever learn everything about him.
He hoped that he didn’t. Tommy hoped that he would go through the rest of his life constantly learning about new things about Evan that he didn’t know. All he wanted to do was keep unraveling the mystery of the man in front of him and living the rest of his life with him no matter what happened, even if it meant that he had to stop flying—and fuck, if that wasn’t the most terrifying thing he had ever thought of; that he would give up flying if it meant that he could keep Evan Buckley in his life.
Tommy’s nerves finally settled.
He went to open his mouth to take the jump, but then Evan said, “I do know things, you know. You don’t always have to sound so surprised,” and the airman gave him a look and said, “I’m not surprised…”
His boyfriend gave him a look.
“…okay, maybe I’m a little surprised, but I like that. I like being surprised by you…”
With trembling fingers he reached towards his pocket and unzipped it as quickly as he could and then pulled out the ring box, noting Evan’s blue eyes widening.
“…and I want to keep on being surprised by you for the rest of my life. For the rest of our lives,” he amended, feeling an odd calmness settle over him as he opened the ring box to show him what he’d picked out for him. “So, if you don’t mind—Evan Buckley—will you do me the honor of turning our lives into something even more? Because I can no longer see a future without you in it, and I don’t want to wait any longer. When I think of home, I don’t think of a house with a cracking front driveway, an uneven foundation, and a leaky side roof anymore...I think of you. You are my home.”
He searched his face, noticing a faint sheen of moisture in the corners of his eyes.
“Evan. Will you marry me?”
He swore everything went silent, even the birds in the trees, the only sound the waves down below them, faint and pulsing in time with his heartbeat as he waited with bated breath, somehow not scared by the silence that he hadn’t been expecting, but instead completely ready for whatever his boyfriend might say…
…and then his heart caught in his throat when Evan looked up at him and said in a tremulous tone, “Oh, god, yes…Tommy, yes,” and then leaned in and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss that caught him off guard with its softness and sweetness, and he could feel faint tear tracks press to his cheeks, tears that weren’t his, and Tommy leaned into the kiss, pouring all of his love into it, using his free hand to grasp at the younger man’s waist.
Eventually they pulled back and Evan wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and said, “That is literally the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen,” and Tommy smiled.
“It took me a while to get it made. You almost nearly found out about it, actually,” he admitted, and blue eyes locked back onto his.
“Really? When?”
“Remember that yoga class I dragged you to?” Evan nodded. “Yeah, well, I didn’t realize that the woman I ordered the ring from was also a yoga instructor,” he said with a comedic tilt of his head, and was thrilled when his boyfriend coughed out a wet laugh and shook his head and said, “No! Wait, that’s why you were acting so weird around her?”
Tommy nodded and said as he pulled out the ring from the ring box, “Yeah, nearly blew the whole thing up right then and there—and then there was me convincing you to come here,” he reluctantly confessed. “I knew I was gonna propose right after the 118 bash at the beach, before the week was out…and then you gave me the perfect opportunity with this picnic. That’s kind of why I was being so weirdly controlling at the beginning of the trip. And why I took so many photos,” he added as he slipped the ring onto the third finger of Evan’s left hand.
Evan laughed again and said, “Kinda glad you did…oh my god, this is real, isn’t it?”
He lifted his hand and stared at the ring.
“Mhmm. It is.”
“You…me…we’re-we’re…we’re engaged.” Tommy watched as it sunk in. “We’re…oh, god, we’re engaged!” Evan exclaimed, leaning back in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, his entire face lit up with the biggest smile the airman had ever seen. “I’m gonna be Mr. Buckley-Kinard…”
“So you do want to hyphenate? I was kind of hoping you would…”
Evan nodded so violently he was afraid his head would fall right off.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, I love your last name, but I want everyone to know about both of us, and this way if we have…if we have kids,” he hesitantly added with a duck of his eyes, “They can have both of our names.”
Tommy nodded right back at him and softly agreed, “Yeah, I’d like that. And besides, once we’re both captains, we can go by our own names so people won’t get confused,” he said with a wry grin in as much of a serious tone he could muster considering just how overwhelmingly overjoyed he felt in that moment—so much so that he was certain that he was about to start yelling at the top of his lungs to anyone who would listen that he had gotten Evan Buckley to agree to marry him.
His boyfriend’s expression was adorable as his nose scrunched up and he said, “Once we’re both captains? Wow, uh…sounds like-like you have some pretty big plans for us,” and Tommy gave him a soft smile and said, “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been thinking a lot about our future lately, and it just made sense that we both might want that one day…”
“Not gonna lie, it’s occurred to me. Just…I don’t want it to happen too soon, you know? I kinda hope Bobby sticks around for a while longer.”
Tommy felt his heart melt a little at the admission.
“Yeah, I get that,” he said, reaching out and brushing a stray curl from his forehead, loving how long his boyfriend’s hair was getting…and then was taken aback when Evan said, “Hey, so I’ve got an engagement ring, but what about you? I wanna show the world that you’re about to be mine, too,” and the airman didn’t know what to say—but then took a second and suggested, “How about I show you the website and you can design one for me, too?” and Evan lit up.
“Oh, I like that idea. You’d let me do that? Because I know you’re kinda weird about that kind of thing. You know, jewelry,” he said, tugging lightly at Tommy’s shirt. “I mean, you wear necklaces from time to time, but because you work with your hands so much in your off time, I wouldn’t want to pick something that would get in the way…”
Tommy shrugged.
“Then we pick it out together.”
Evan’s eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned back in and recaptured his boyfriend’s—no, his fiancé’s lips with his own, and lingered, soaking in the moment at finally realizing that his boyfriend was now his fiancé and that as soon as he possibly could, his last name would be attached to his and they would be married. And he would have a husband.
Fuck, he never thought that it would happen.
Unbidden, he felt a few of his own tears finally sneak out, and Evan pulled back from the kiss just enough to breathe out, “Hey, are you okay?” and Tommy nodded and said, “Yeah, just…you said yes. You-you…you’re gonna marry me. You’re gonna be my husband. We’re…we’re gonna be married," the words finally sinking in, the realization of what had just happened somehow hitting him with all the weight of a firehose to the chest.
The younger firefighter grinned wide and said, “Yeah, we’re gonna be married! I can’t wait ‘til I get to call you husband…”
All of the air left his lungs at once.
He nodded.
“Yeah. Husband,” he said breathlessly, reaching out and lightly tracing his fingers along Evan’s jawline, darting his eyes between his lips and baby blues—no, sky blues, he mentally corrected. Eyes as blue as the sky that he had escaped to at the age of eighteen, skies that he was willing to let go of for the rest of his life if it meant waking up to seeing them right next to him every morning until he could no longer open his own eyes.
Evan then said, “So…we gonna head home, now? Tell everyone the good news?”
Tommy shook his head and softly replied, “Not just yet. I want this to be just us for a little while longer. Is that okay?” he asked, nervous, but his fiancé nodded and skated his thumb over the back of his hand and said, “Yeah, it is. We can keep it to ourselves a bit longer. Just us.”
They stayed like that for a while, sitting and staring, and the airman found himself constantly running his fingers over the ring on Evan’s finger, still baffled by the fact that he had said yes.
Unexpectedly, Evan broke the silence with, “So…when you were asking me about my favorite season earlier, were you trying to figure out when you wanted us to get married?” and he shyly nodded and ducked his eyes. His fiancé chuckled and said, “You know what, I don’t care when we get married, just that we do. Now…how long do you want to keep this between us? Because the moment we tell Chimney, everyone will know,” and Tommy rolled his eyes and groaned.
“Ugh, I know, but I also know that you want to tell your sister as soon as possible, and once she knows, then Howie knows, and…yeah.”
They shared a look.
…and then Tommy said, “How’s this. We keep it to ourselves for the next few days. You’ll have to keep the ring off during work hours, anyway, so it shouldn’t be too hard to hide,” he added with a head tilt. “When you’re ready, we tell them. Not a moment before.”
He rubbed his finger over the ring one more time.
“Only when you’re ready…”
It felt soft and sweet when Evan leaned in and kissed him, none of the manic energy and passion from before, but somehow with even more love than before and he sank into it, enjoying the way it made his brain go quiet, and by the time they both pulled back he was feeling lightheaded in the best way possible and so took a moment to catch his breath by resting his forehead against Evan’s, wondering if they stayed like that long enough that his birthmark would be etched onto his skin, as well.
Evan then said, “I like that idea. Not sure how long I can keep it a secret, though, to be honest,” and Tommy snorted and shook his head and said, “Yeah, why am I not surprised? Don’t worry about it, Evan. Just do it when it feels right.”
His fiancé arched an eyebrow at him.
“I, uh—I kinda wanna call Maddie right now,” he admitted, and the airman threw his head back and barked out a laugh and said, “I think ten minutes isn’t quite enough time. Give it a few hours, at least?” and they broke into giggles together and ended up on their sides in the grass, staring at each other as they tried to come down from their laughter.
Evan calmed down first and said, “Yeah, I can…I can do that.”
They laid there for a little while longer, Tommy basking in the hope and love that he felt…and then the young fireman said, “God, I can’t wait to be married to you…”
…and Tommy smiled.
He couldn’t wait, either.
#bucktommyfluffebruary#bucktommy#buck x tommy#tevan#tevan fic#tevan fanfiction#evan buckley#tommy kinard#fluff#proposal#nephilimeq fanfic
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so ive been working on a post-breakup bucktommy fix it for a hot minute and she's almost finished so i wanted to share the first chapter here before i put the entire thing on ao3.
its starts from the 'tommy's bubbling me' scene from 8x07 except its from tommy's pov. its mostly hurt but i swear the comfort is coming!
title: i love you, im sorry. word count: 1341 chapter: 1 of 2/3
Tommy hit backspace, deleting the drafted text he’d written to Evan with a sigh. Dropping his phone beside him on the couch, he reached out to grab the open bottle of beer from the coffee table and took a long swig. It wasn’t far off three in the afternoon but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to particularly care; he’d come off shift within the last hour and wasn’t scheduled back in until the next day, it also wasn’t as though he was planning to have more than one or two. He needed a distraction, something to temporarily cloud his mind that wasn’t Evan. Buck. He’d lost the right to use his given name the day he walked out of his loft.
It had been just over two weeks since the break up; fifteen days if he was counting, which he was. He had ran the conversation over in his mind an infinite number of times since then and each time he hated himself a little bit more.
“Did you just break up with me?”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
He slammed the bottle back down on the table with more force than necessary. He was a fucking coward. He’d been a coward back when he was at the 118 and he failed to stand up for Hen and Howie against Gerrard; Tommy had been battling his own internal demons but that didn’t excuse his behaviour then and it sure as hell doesn’t now.
He had told Buck that if they ended up moving in together, then the younger man would end up breaking his heart; something that he wasn’t sure he would be able to move on from. The irony of it all was that through his own cowardice actions, Tommy had beat him to it and succeeded in breaking it all by himself.
Bringing his hands up, he pressed the heals of his palms into his eyes. He felt the sting of tears and took a breath, willing them to remain at bay. He had no right to cry, not when this was all his fault. He had broken up with Buck; had panicked at the thought of moving in with him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because when his heart was inevitably broken, the fallout would have been too much for him to fathom.
Tommy wondered if this imaginary scenario would have left him feeling anything like the way he felt right now. His palms were wet, the stars dancing behind his eyes the only outcome of his efforts. Swiping the tears that were only replaced by more a moment later, he wiped his hands across his jean clad thighs and tipped his head back against the back of his couch.
His fingers itched to grab his phone; he wanted to call Buck, apologise for being such a coward, for joining the list of people who had walked away from him and beg him for another chance. It was selfish, he was selfish.
He didn’t deserve Buck; Hadn’t been deserving of being his first relationship since discovering his true identity. Buck had trusted him, had let Tommy in. The two of them shared words and experiences that were completely new to Buck and it made Tommy feel sick that he had taken these things from him, with the promise of protecting them and him only to run when his own insecurities got in the way.
Curling his hand into a fist, he bought it down on the cushion beside him. The movement jostled his phone and lit up his home screen; his background was a picture of an LA sunrise, which to anyone else wouldn’t seem particularly special but to Tommy it held precious memory.
It had been taken a few months prior during one of his early morning runs, by Evan. Tommy had mentioned to him that one of his go to’s for winding down after particularly gruelling shifts was to hit one of the many hiking trails and if he was lucky enough to finish a shift before the day had officially started, then he could sometimes catch the sunrise. It was a way to remind himself that in spite of the often tragic calls he dealt with whilst at work, a new day was just on the horizon and with it the renewal of hope and possibility of brighter times to come.
He’d thought the idea was beautiful and asked if he could accompany Tommy sometime should their shifts lineup. They ended up going one morning after Tommy had finished a forty-eight and Evan was due to start his own a few hours later. They’d found a perfect spot to watch the sunrise and paused their run to drink it in. Evan had taken a picture just as the sun was peaking over the horizon, setting it as his phone background and almost shyly explaining to Tommy that this way whenever he looked at his phone it would remind him of not only the reason behind it but also of Tommy.
It had been one of the many times in which Tommy had wondered how he got so lucky as to find someone as adorable as Evan. He’d even asked him as much, which earned him a blushed smile that Tommy couldn’t help but kiss off his lips. Before asking him to send him a copy of the photo and setting it as his own background too.
Tommy could have changed it in weeks since the break up, probably should have done if he’d had any desire to move on. He wondered if Evan had changed his; selfishly he hoped he hadn’t.
He stared at his phone until the screen went back to black, mulling over his scattered thoughts before picking it up and unlocking it. It reopened back onto his text thread with Evan, they hadn’t spoken to each other via text since Howie’s wedding and the memories of that day and night settled heavily in the pit of his stomach when he compared how he had felt then to how he felt now.
His thumb hovered over the bubble to start a new message; Tommy knew what he wanted to say, what he’d wanted to tell Evan even before they broke up. He had never called his own feelings towards Evan into question, self hatred threatened to bubble to the surface once more when he reminded himself that the only person he had called into question was Evan himself.
Evan who had never been anything but open and honest with Tommy from the start of their relationship. Sure, he’d put his foot in his mouth a few times at the start and sometimes he got a little ahead of himself, but it was one of the many things Tommy loved about him.
Tommy loved him. Loves him.
But he let him go because he’s a coward.
With a sigh, he tapped the bubble to send a new message but paused. After weeks of radio silence Tommy knew it wouldn’t be fair to drops these heavy feelings on Evan straight away. If at all a voice in his head snarked. What if he was too late? What if Tommy ending things had been the wake up call Evan needed to realise that though Tommy had been his first, he didn’t want him to be his last and these last weeks had just helped cement those feelings.
The thought caused him physical pain. His entire reasoning behind breaking up with Evan in the first place had been to shield his heart from inevitable break, but it had quickly become apparent that he was destined for this fate regardless. He couldn’t allow himself to consider that Evan loved him back. He hadn’t deserved it before the break up and he sure as hell didn’t now. The difference now however was that he felt as though he had nothing else to lose, and he owed Evan the truth no matter what the outcome may be.
Fuck it.
“Can we talk?”
Tommy held his breath and hit send.
#my first 911 fic attempt so please be kind#bucktommy#tevan#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 abc#fanfic#tevan fic
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Found this in my drafts and decided to finish it up, written before the Abby reveal so we're just pretending that never happened, have some outsider pov of the alt timeline where Tommy and Buck met before Buck was at the 118.
Tommy is being weird. That's the only way Hen can describe it. He's been quiet on calls, none of the usual banter and posturing she's used to; he's been quiet in the station, prone to staring at the space between his lap and the dinner table even as Chim spouts off some ironic quote that would have had him cheesing it up a few weeks previous; he's been quiet as he packs his shit and heads out for his truck. Each afternoon since he'd quietly announced his transfer to the 217, he's been quiet, and it's weird.
Hen's not entirely surprised. Tommy's nothing if not protective of his own feelings - years and years of Gerrard all hanging over their heads even though he'd admitted a few drinks deep one night that he was pretty positive his professionally scathing complaint about Gerrard was very likely what tipped the scales ("Could have been Sal's, though," he'd said with a shrug as his eyes drifted to the head on his beer.). From what she's gleaned off Chim, there's a good chance he'd been an ass in part to protect himself from feeling too bad about losing someone, too (again) - not that that's any type of excuse for the shit he'd had a hand in putting her through. An excuse for the things he's said, in the heat of the moment, in the quiet caverns of life under a shitty captain.
(Stumbled apologies, serious expressions on a face softened only by the shots he'd been buying all night, words said and unsaid between them and the gaping maw between a Chim happy to accept and move on while Hen downed her tequila and waited for the other shoe to drop.)
It's been years since then. Years and years winding between them all, a dozen captains and more than a few transfers of good firefighters away from the 118, and something good and warm and special brewing in their house with the arrival of the captain who'd made family dinners a daily occurrence.
She'd sort of expected Tommy might finally open up, when those family dinners kept going and Nash kept staying and things started to settle into something closer to friendly instead of the soldiers of war camaraderie they'd grown so used to. And maybe he has, to someone who isn't Hen - who'd taken his little efforts to change at face value and refused to put in more work than that for a colleague who'd made mostly bare minimum efforts post-Gerrard, always accepting the new status quo, refusing to make waves. She respects Tommy. Trusts him on the job, and sometimes off of it when they've had a shitty shift and need to decompress before they go home to the people in their lives who can never really understand losing someone to the heat of a fire, to blood loss and blunt force trauma. Doesn't care for him the way Chim seems to, doesn't really desire a closer relationship than the one they've maintained through the turnover of captains and the 48's they pull on occasion.
But Tommy's being weird, and Hen's pretty sure she's the only one who sees it.
She waits until she's sure Chim has a date to hit up Tommy for an after shift drink, and his eyes crinkle around the corners in suspicion because he knows just as well as she that she's putting them in an awkward position without the buffer zone of an extra coworker to fill in the blank spots of the things they don't say to each other. He'll be gone in a week. There's not a single fucking reason for her to try to get to know him better now.
"Sure thing, Wilson," he says, and when he offers to drive them both Hen makes up some excuse about needing her car in case of some Denny related emergency.
---
She expects it to take a while. Ply him with a few drinks, figure out what it is about Howie that always puts Tommy at ease so quickly when they're out like this and try to replicate it - he keeps things close to the vest but Hen has ways of weaseling things out of people once she's got them where she wants them.
Tommy sighs and picks at the label on his bottle. Thins his lips, and stares at her sideways. "I'm seeing someone," he says, in an undertone, and Hen hasn't even taken her first sip from the bottle he'd ordered for her, too, while she scrounged up one of the smaller booths. His eyes dart, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, that no one here recognizes him, and Hen - Hen knows that look. She just can't square that look with Mr. Toxic Heterosexuality himself.
Hen takes a sip. Forces herself not to vibrate out of her own skin because - because - because she's gotta wait this shit out. Could be he's found himself attracted to some weird goth chick, or a woman with meat on her bones, in which case he's in for a big ole smack to the head or one of the looks she reserves for when the boys get a little too caught up in their locker room talk.
He darts his gaze up. Meets hers, steady on, for the first time in...weeks, actually, now that she's thinking about it, and the guilt there in his eyes sure is something to behold.
"He's younger," Tommy says, and Hen rolls her tongue over her teeth so she doesn't do something stupid like hone in on that pronoun with either glee or full-on righteous anger.
Hen narrows her eyes instead, and is surprised that he keeps her gaze. She's expecting - unnecessary contrition, or maybe a ducked head or excuses. He chews on the inside of his lip and chuffs out a self deprecating laugh.
"I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing and he still lives in a frat house."
Hen's mind goes somewhere inappropriate, and she has to stop herself from making a truly horrible hand gesture because he can't possibly mean -
He rolls his eyes. "I know where to stick it, Wilson, that's not the issue."
She has about half a million questions queueing - things she's not sure they're close enough to ask, things she doesn't actually want the answer to but stick there in the back of her mind anyway, things she'd never ask someone who'd been kind to her from the outset. "How'd you do it?" he asks, and Hen remembers the way he'd stood, arms crossed and face blank and something sad and vulnerable in his face while she lectured from her red and chrome pulpit. Jesus. He's known. He's known a while.
"I've never exactly been passing," she tells him, and winces at the aggression in her voice, in that statement, in the very existence of the idea. He shoots her a bitchy look that's far more familiar, in line with their normal dynamic. It has her rolling her shoulders back, has her sitting up a little more in her seat. "Is that - are you asking me how to come out?"
Tommy shrugs. Tips his head. "You're the one who wanted to get drinks."
"And if I hadn't asked?"
She knows the answer. The dumbass would have transferred out of the 118 with no one the wiser. Probably fallen off all the group chats, squared with himself for however long it took, decided one way or another who to tell from there. But he's here now, talking to Hen. Telling Hen, the person he's probably the least close to.
Hen sighs. Takes a longer drag off her beer this time while Tommy folds up a piece of the label he's ripped off. She's not gonna be his fucking gay guru. They're not anywhere approaching that close.
He could have lied, though, is the thing. Seems like he's maybe been lying for a while, if the uncharacteristic fidgeting is anything to go by. She knows him under stress, knows him when he's walking through literal fire. Figurative fire is an entirely different matter. She doesn't know that Tommy.
The words that fall out of her mouth aren't the ones she's aiming for. "You and Sal." she says, and then bites down the rest of that sentence like it'll burn them both. His eyes dart up. He shifts in his seat.
"The only reason I'm saying a word is because the answer is no," he says, and - yeah that's fair. Everyone has the right to come out of the closet in their own fucking time.
"So this kid," Hen says, moving on, and - oh. There's that look. It's a little dreamy-eyed, the way he's been getting sometimes when he's looking down at his phone and trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "What's the deal there?"
"He's new," Tommy says, and Hen can feel her brow tic up of it's own accord, because he says it with the authority of someone who isn't new. Hen has to wonder exactly how many times the perpetually single Tommy joke had been made while Tommy was less than single. God, that had to have stung, hadn't it? "He's - apparently he didn't realize he was flirting until I kissed him about it."
That's remarkably brave for a man who isn't out to a single person he and Hen are mutually acquainted with. At least as far as she knows - Chim can't keep a secret to save his damn life so at least she knows he doesn't know.
"You know you didn't have to tell me any of this."
His expression is wry. He bites his lip, curls his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head like he's clearing cobwebs. "The transfer isn't the only thing I had on the docket for major life changes."
Karen's gonna be pissed if Hen doesn't get the dirt, she tells herself as she leans forward, so she throws a teasing edge to her voice as she quirks a brow. "This life change have anything to do with your baby gay or is that just a natural progression of the coming out process?"
Tommy's posture eases, just a little. He gives her a look that she's more familiar with seeing when Chim's in the booth next to him, or they're elbow deep in shit-talk at the station.
"Happy accident, actually," he says, and Hen leans in to listen to him dish when his eyes go all soft and gooey.
___
She's known Evan Buckley a total of six hours the first time he mentions his boyfriend. There's a nervous edge to it, like he's still testing the word out, like the syllables are unfamiliar, and he glances down at the phone in his lap right after he says it, like he's double checking something. Hen wouldn't have pegged him for it, for all that she tends not to make assumptions. It's just. He's so.
Hen shoves back against the stereotypical bullshit and throws him a bone, because he looks like he's fucking desperate to share information on the fact that someone cares enough about him to let him call them his boyfriend. She lobs a layup, something relatable about 'my wife, Karen'.
"Yeah, Tommy said you were married."
Hen pauses. Wonders if she can turn her head like an owl so that she doesn't have to shift her weight to look behind her at where Buck is happily washing dishes, elbow-deep in sudsy water. There's no one else up here with them - most of the shift is working off dinner downstairs.
"We never have meals like this at home, I'm lucky if the guys I live with don't steal my last packet of ramen before I can get to it," he'd said, and she remembers Tommy grinning at the memory of this Evan he'd been seeing being inordinately impressed by the fact that Tommy could grill a steak. ("Jesus, Kinard, are you sure you're not robbing the fucking cradle?")
Hen shifts. Eyes him a little more carefully as he turns his head to meet her gaze, and - holy shit, she's actually feeling a little protective of Tommy Kinard right now. "He know you're out here sharing his business?" It's not the tone she's going for - admonishing instead of exploratory, but Buck just grins at her over his shoulder, like he's pleased Tommy has someone watching out for him. Shit. She'd been a little concerned that Tommy was in over his head, stuck up on the idea of being out out and clinging to the first boy that batted his lashes, but it feels like maybe there's more to it than that. She can't square that with what has to be at least a decade of years between them, but -
Love is love, and all that.
"We, uh. We've been talking about it."
Hen raises an eyebrow, because that's not actually a green light to air Tommy's business.
"He - well last night we talked about it again. So. I mean it's not like Facebook official or anything. But he said it was cool to talk to you. A-all of you. He's - everyone at Harbor knows me."
It hurts a bit to know that Tommy's been there less than six months and felt more comfortable being himself with a bunch of strangers, but...
It's good. That he has that. That he's not walking the world just shoving bits and pieces of himself away.
Hen watches him rinse his arms and square his shoulders and shift to face her. "How'd you two meet, anyway?" she asks, because Tommy had been so stuck on the trying to figure out how to have an honest relationship piece that she'd never gotten around to asking.
Buck's expression could be easily mistaken for a solar flare, for the way it lights up the whole loft.
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan fic#i have so many things i'm working on and so many randoms scraps of ideas but this one was super fun to jump back into so
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Buck hears the chopper land and knows exactly who’s in the pilot’s seat. He looks over to Bobby, who is talking to Athena and a man he doesn’t recognize. Before he can ask, he’s cut off. “Make it quick.”
Buck grins and turns on his heels. Then he full-on sprints down the freeway, weaving through the sea of passengers and ambulances. He nearly knocks Eddie over and hears him snark something about being ‘thirsty’ to Hen.
Finally, he gets to the end of the make-shift runway they made. Tommy jumps out of the cockpit, looking insanely hot in his flight suit. The memory of him wearing it, and only it, while Buck went down on him a few weeks back flashes in his head. He quickly reminds himself they’re in public. There are too many cameras around for him to get a semi right now. “Pilot Kinard.”
Sauntering over to him, Tommy doesn’t shy away from checking his boyfriend out – eyes slowly scanning over Buck’s frame. “Firefighter Buckley.” He’s the hottest man to walk the earth. “Got a patient for me?”
“A-a patient?” Buck stammers, getting a little (a lot) lost watching Tommy’s lips as he spoke. “Oh y-yeah, the patient!” Buck looks behind them, to where Chim is doing his final check on the pilot Athena and the passengers kept alive through the crash. “He’s stable. Machine got his pulse back.”
“Great. Donato’s setting up for medevac.” They are so close. But they are tragically not touching. Tommy hasn’t even so much as given him a shoulder pat or ruffled his hair. Buck’s vibrating out his skin. He needs his boyfriend’s lips on his right now. “We have five minutes.”
That’s all Buck needs to hear. He quickly looks around; everyone else is busy with other survivors. He grabs Tommy by the collar of his flight suit and slams him against the closest engine. He crashes their lips together, tongue first.
Tommy makes the same surprised moan he did when they made out in the hospital. It takes a second for him to catch up, but he makes up for it by licking the roof of Buck’s mouth and pulling his hair, keeping them as close as possible.
“Don’t ever pull a stunt like this, okay?”
“Mmm hmm.” Tommy mumbles against his lips. Buck knows he can’t really make that promise. As a pilot, there’s always the risk of something going wrong. He doesn’t like to think about it.
Buck kisses his chin. “You’re texting me every time you take off…” Another to his jaw. “… and again when you land.”
Tommy chuckles and Buck can feel the vibration against his chest. “Of course, Evan.”
“Good.” He taps his chest. His strong and firm chest.
Tommy attempts to smooth down Buck’s curls, having messed them up during their embrace. “Once you’re done here, you coming over? I’m cooking.” Sounds perfect, exactly what Buck needs after a day like today. “I wanna hear all about you saving the day – I heard something about a motorbike?” He adds with a tilt of his head. Buck knows exactly what that glint in his eye means.
Giving another quick look around, he bites at Tommy’s lip – unable to hide his playful smirk as he grabs a fistful of his boyfriend’s ass. “Of course I’ll come over…” He kisses past his cheek to bite at Tommy’s ear lobe “… Daddy.” He whispers – just for him.
Tommy curses under his breath and his grip on Buck’s hips tighten. “Evan –“
“Buckley! Stop distracting my pilot.” Lucy yells from the chopper. “Get your ass overhear, Kinard!”
They, begrudgingly, separate. Tommy turns around once he’s halfway to the chopper. “We’re finishing this later.” Buck can’t help but bounce on his heels, arousal and excitement coursing through him. Buck not caring at all about failing the ‘not getting a semi’ plan.
Tommy gets into the cockpit and starts the engine. Wind gusts around them as the blades spin. The chopper starts to lift off, Buck waving at Tommy as he flies away. “Nice to see you too, Tommy!” Chim sarcastically shouts at the sky.
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#bucktommy ficlet#tevan#tevan fic#Tevan Drabble#bucktommy Drabble#911 coda#911#911 spoilers#911 8x03#my writing#can’t believe I wrote this in one sitting#very unlike me
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Third Act [ now also on Ao3]
They've just evacuated the last of the factory workers when Incident Command calls for total evacuation. Structural integrity can no longer be guaranteed, everybody out. Eddie, who has their patient's other arm draped over his shoulders as they help the man limp to the nearest ambulance, grins at Buck. "Now that's what I call perfect timing."
"Yeah," Buck agrees, maybe a beat too slow, distracted by the number on the turnouts that just darted past them. The name under the 217 started with the wrong letter, the person's shoulders too narrow, height not quite right. Not that he's looking. Not that he's been looking. Not that it would matter if he was. With the enormity of the factory and the spread of the fire they have on their hands, the chances of running into a particular individual are small. Besides, if he's here, he's more than likely at the other end of the staging area, with the helicopters that are being refueled and awaiting instruction. Not that Buck's been looking. Or paying attention to any of that. At all.
They've just handed over their patient to the paramedics when their radios crackle to life once more, this time to confirm that all first responders who had entered the building are safe and accounted for.
"Thank God."
Buck turns to find Bobby has come up behind them, has clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder, a relieved smile lighting up his face under his helmet. And. Yeah. Buck smiles with him, feels terrible for a moment for being so preoccupied when he should just be damn grateful for how their day - night, now - has panned out. Despite the enormous structure, despite how fast the fire spread, despite the upgrade from a three to a four alarm fire when it became incredibly clear the building was not up to code, despite the flammable materials housed in the far end of the structure, (despite the whir of helicopter blades overhead reminding Buck of him, despite the way he had to force himself not to stop and listen when a headcount for the 217 went out over the radio) they got everyone out alive. Some of the factory workers were in critical condition, others would be touch-and-go for a while, but they got them out alive and that was all any of them could ask for.
Perhaps it was too big an ask.
There had been a few moments in Buck's life in which he'd wondered if the universe had it out for him, was just waiting for him to be happy, let down his guard a little, so that it could pull the rug out from under him and send him sprawling. Choking on breadsticks on Valentine's Day. Choking on blood at his own welcome back party. Choking on his own nickname in his own loft as. As he walked out the door.
It feels like he's choking again. Buck watches the faces around him fall when dispatch tells them they were wrong, that there's still two people inside, on the top floor. When the IC responds that there's nothing to be done, the lower floors are ready to cave in, it's too unsafe. When a familiar voice crackles over the radio, saying there's a chance, if they land a helicopter on the roof, get the last two people out from there. That he'll do it.
"Absolutely not, firefighter pilot Kinard. That roof is ready to go any minute now, and you want to land a bird on it? That's a suicide mission. Stand down, that's an order."
There's a static crackle, as if someone, as if he, is weighing his options before he speaks. Buck doesn't breathe. Doesn't think he could if he wanted to.
"If there's any chance they can be saved, I have to try."
And Bobby meets his eyes, still tries, "Buck-", but they both know there's no version of this moment in which Buck doesn't grimace apologetically, doesn't turn, doesn't run faster than he's ever ran before.
He's gone, long strides, lungs burning, everyone and everything he passes a blur. He bumps into someone, yells "Sorry!", he thinks, isn't actually sure that's what he does, eyes set on the rotor blades looming dark against the orange cast of the fire in the distance. It's hard to tell if they're moving, what with how the light shifts in the dark, what with how his vision has become narrowed to that single point, and the dull roar in his ears could be his own blood pounding, could be the commotion that comes with a scene like this, could the be panic rising like bile in his throat.
For one insane moment, he thinks he can hear the sweeping crescendo of an orchestra, thinks, hysterically, like sprinting through an airport in the third act of a romcom. Thinks, I should tell Tommy. Realizes what he's hearing is that dull roar shifting into the high whine of rotor blades gaining momentum and thinks, Oh, god, Tommy. And then, in a blink, he's fighting the dust in his eyes and being buffeted by wind and his hands find purchase on the titanium hull and he's hauling himself inside.
With the wind gone, it's like he's suspended in stillness for a moment. Stillness, not silence, because helicopters are loud and the sound is everywhere, like a physical sensation. Or maybe that's just how it feels to be in close proximity with Tommy again. Tommy, who is staring straight ahead, punching buttons, flipping a switch, and Buck isn't sure Tommy's even aware of his presence until Tommy's reaching back, headset in hand, not looking at him at all, gaze still firmly on the dashboard.
Even when Buck has the headset on, the roar of the engine finally dropping away, Tommy doesn't acknowledge him immediately. The set of his shoulders is stiff, determined, defensive. He lets out a sigh. "What are you doing here, Buck?"
Buck carefully ignores the name, ignores the way Tommy still can't look at him. Squares his shoulders, even if Tommy can't see it. "I'm going with you."
There is a moment in which Tommy doesn't respond, simply finishes the last of his pre-flight checks. When he speaks, his voice is carefully deadpan. "You know we're probably going to die out there."
Buck can't help it, shoots back before he can think about it. "Figured this way I can prove I want you to be my last."
It works. Finally, Tommy turns. Meets his eyes. Breathes out. "Evan."
And Buck knows it's a ridiculous moment to smile, but it's like a weight falls away from him and he can feel his chest expand in a way it hasn't been able to since "See you around, Buck."
"Like you said," he amends. "If there's a chance at all, I have to try."
Buck doesn't think he's imagining the spark of hope in Tommy's eyes, the twitch of a smile, before Tommy turns back to his controls and the ground falls away beneath them.
#help i wrote a thing for the first time in over 5 years?#uhh let me know what you think (and if there's any glaring mistakes)#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan fic#my writing#911 fic#911 ficlet#bucktommy ficlet#also feedback is welcome (in dms)
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I'm coming for you
For @louscurls bc they said let's crush this Jeep. I did
“Text him text him text him,” that is all Tommy can hear around him because Lucy almost screams it in his ear and all the team, who are on the shift, eat their pizza and repeat this with her between chewing.
“I won’t text him,” Tommy says loud enough so everyone hears him. “It won’t make both of us any good.”
“You don’t know it,” says Milton.
“It might be that you both actually have something to tell each other. At least I’m sure Buckley has,” Lucy says, nodding on his phone, “but if you actually think it's a bad idea then gimme your phone. I’ll block him so you won’t look at your phone like a kicked puppy,” she tries to take his phone, but he is quicker to get it to his other hand.
“No, no one blocks him either.”
“THEN TEXT HIM,” the chorus of voices makes him jump in his seat.
“I won’t te…” his phone starts ringing, “OH FUCK! IT’S EVAN! WHAT SHOULD I DO?”
“ANSWER HIM!”
Tommy wants to say no. Again, finding the way to play it won’t give him or Evan really good to start again. But the truth is his weak man and he misses Evan like crazy. He answers the call right before it can disconnect.
“Go for Kinard,” he ignores everyone's rolled eyes, trying to stop his heart from beating too fast when all he hears is Evan’s strange breathing and sounds like some is screaming and moaning in the background. “Evan?”
“H-hi, Tommy,” the voice is weak. Too weak for Tommy’s liking.
“Evan? What’s wrong, where are you?”
Everyone comes closer to him, with faces that make Tommy want to puke.
“C-car accident. Someone T-boned me and then several cars got into me from different sides,” weak voice answers him. “I don’t think you meant this by being my last, but hey, look you were wrong. First and last are the same.”
“Evan, what is your location and how do you feel? And why do you call me and not dispatch.”
“Some-someone already called. Heard it. Wanted to call or text you all week. Why did you s-stopp bubbling me? I-I wanted you to text me. B-baked so many things because of you.”
Tommy listens as well as he can when he begs someone to call dispatch and find out where a massive pile up happened.
“I love you so much Tom-my why was I not enough? I just wanted to be enough for you,” Tommy’s heart stops when he hears it and he feels the tears on his face.
“I love you too, baby, that’s why I need you to tell me where you are, please Evan,” he hears only breathing on the line, “Evan? Evan! Please talk to me.”
“I have the address,” Lucy screams, pointing towards the helicopters.
Tommy runs, hoping Evan still can hear him, at least while he still can listen to his breath on the line, he will believe it, “I’m coming for you, Evan.”
#bucktommy#my fics#911#911 spoilers#evan buckley#evan buck buckley#tommy kinard#tevan#tevan fic#bucktommy fic#tevan fanfiction#fix it
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08x06 Delulu
Tevan are at the Italian restaurant. The Hot Waiter flirts with Buck. Buck's kinda oblivious. He unintentionally flirts back. Buck pays this time, and inside the folder with his card and receipt is Hot Waiter's phone number. Buck is a little weirded out because he feels like it's obvious he and Tommy are on a date.
For the most part, Tommy watches Buck and Hot Waiter's interaction in amusement. He jokes whether Buck is he's going to call him, and Buck is taken aback. Then Tommy gets serious.
"We haven't really talked about the kind of relationship you want."
Buck's confused. "What does that mean?"
"Just that there's more than one way to be in a relationship. I've been in a couple that were open."
"Open?"
"We were allowed to sleep with other people."
"I know what it means, Tommy. Is that what you want?"
"I want you to be happy. I want you to know I'm amenable to that if you're interested. Truth be told, Evan, the most important thing is that you're in my life, whether we’re together or not.
Suddenly, the Ironside siren goes off in Buck’s head, and he’s spiraling.
Tommy clasps his hand and looks at him like he’s the goddamn sun, moon, and stars. “Think about it. It’s not like it’s something you have to decide today.”
Cue Buck, going to Bobby. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, but I’ve seen you two together. I don’t think breaking up is something Tommy is even thinking about. The other stuff...you should talk to Tommy. Be upfront. Be honest.
Cue Buck, going to Maddie. “Buck, he kissed you while you were still covered in boils. I saw that with my own eyes and wished I hadn’t. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but he does seem very committed to you. And to be perfectly honest, the open relationship doesn’t sound like something he’d suggest out of thin air. Maybe you said something...”
“You’re blaming me? Come on, Maddie! You know damn well that’s not how I roll. I slept around, yeah, but not while I was in a relationship - and don’t you dare bring up Taylor! Besides, an agreed upon “open” means consensual. I just - how did I miss that this was something he was interested in? Why would he wait six months to bring it up?”
A sound of disgust emanates from the corner of the call center's breakroom, and the Buckley siblings' heads swivel to its location. Josh is sitting at a table, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes. “You sweet naive baby bi.” He gets up from his chair, sidles up to Buck, and eyes the donuts he brought for Maddie. “I don’t suppose there's a Bavarian cream in there?”
“There’s a jelly,” Buck says.
“But jellies are my favorite,” Maddie complains.
“Too bad. I’m about to help your chaotic brother out, so I deserve it.” Josh bites into the donut and gives an appreciative moan. “Oh god, I haven’t had refined sugar in three days. How I missed you.”
“Back to me, please,” Buck says with a whine.
“Look, it’s pretty simple. There are only two types of guys who want to open up a relationship after the six-month mark. Assholes carrying multiple red flags or..”
“Tommy’s not an asshole,” Buck tells him firmly.
“Considering he’d whittle a rocking chair if you asked him to, I’d agree. Buck, my guess is he’s scared. He's worried that if he doesn't give you a free pass, that you'll get bored with him and leave.”
“That’s so stupid,” Buck cries in dismay.
Maddie lays a supportive hand on his bicep.
“It is,” Josh agrees. “But just because your man is a solid L.A. nine doesn’t mean he’s not carrying around a lot of insecurities. Talk to him. Tell him. And hey, if it all blows up on you, send him my way. I’d love to be that man’s shoulder to cry on.”
Buck shows up at Tommy’s door. Tommy is supposed to come to his after finishing his laundry, but Buck doesn’t want to wait that long. “Hey,” Tommy greets him with that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much.
“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” Buck tells him as he barges through the door.
“Oh-kay,” Tommy says, closing the door behind Buck.
“Do you want to have sex with other men?”
Tommy crosses his arms, and his head tilts towards the ground. “No. I’ve come to learn that’s not an ideal situation for me.”
Buck scoffs. “Then why suggest it?”
The buzzer on the washer goes off, and Tommy moves towards it to switch out the load. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to you flirting with everyone.”
“You think I flirt?”
“Evan, you told the waiter you liked his chinos while eyeing his ass. Most of the time, I think it’s cute how you rile people up without realizing it, but then I have a thought like, what if Hot Waiter would be a better match for you? So I panicked and threw out that suggestion.”
“Jesus, Tommy. For the past six months, my brain has been consumed by nothing but you. Yet you think I can be swayed by some guy in a comfortable pair of pants? I only want you.”
“I know. I do. You prove that to me every day. I didn’t suggest it because I don’t trust you.” Tommy tosses one of Buck’s hoodies into the dryer and starts it. He can’t keep eye contact with Buck for more than a few seconds, and he looks paler than when Buck first arrived. Tommy’s also picking his middle fingernail with his thumb, and that’s Tommy’s tell that he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Uh, so like, I’m in this for the long haul. I think you’re it for me, Evan, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve settled or...”
“I love you,” Buck tells him with a certainty he doesn’t think he felt even eight hours ago, but it’s the god’s honest truth. “Just seeing you makes me feel so full I could combust. ”
Tommy’s eyes are glossy and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He finally locks eyes with Buck. “Loving you has been living in the back of my mind since...I honestly don’t know how long. I’ve been trying to temper my expectations because I haven’t been super successful in relationships. But then you started leaving clothes here, and suddenly you’ve infiltrated my life like no one else has been willing to. Next thing I know, I’m at a funeral for a long dead cowboy. I watched you embrace the memory of a forgotten man, and I realized I couldn’t love you more, Evan. Boils and all.”
Aaaaand that’s it. I’m tapped out.
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interrupting the uninterruptable
i fully blame the tevan server for pulling this prompt out of me but au where tommy didn't have a shift to get to and well, buck needs some confirmations aka tevan making out in buck's kitchen
T rating | 1161 words
“So that was okay?”
“Better than fake mouth static.”
Tommy laughs shyly, ducking his head. The world has turned upside down.
Because okay didn’t even begin to describe the absolute infestation of winged insects in his stomach, or the possibly worrying rate of his heartbeat, or even the way he was still catching his breath despite the fact that it was the most chaste kiss he has ever participated in.
Okay? Understatement of the century.
Tommy looks back up at him, a playful curve to his lips. Buck zeroes in on them, on the little cupid’s bow, on the rosy tint to them. There is only one thought in his mind.
“Evan?”
Fuck chaste!
Buck’s hands take hold of the back of Tommy’s head and he pulls him into a decidedly-not chaste kiss, swallowing a surprised moan from the other man’s mouth. Hmm.
Just as life-changing as the first.
Because, now that Tommy’s gotten over the shock and has firmly placed his hands on Buck’s hips and is kissing him back in earnest, he knows how perfectly their mouths fit against one another. He knows the way Tommy’s hands feel so warm against him even over his shirt. He knows how soft Tommy’s hair is from where his fingers have tangled in the short locks.
Most importantly, he knows deep in his bones that he was made to kiss Tommy Kinard.
Maybe it’s too soon.
Maybe they should take a breath and talk.
On the other hand, Buck feels like he might die if he stops kissing Tommy, so he keeps tasting the man’s lips, running his hand down his bicep, over his chest, enjoying the way Tommy’s arm wraps around his waist as their tongues join the kiss.
He might be flying, he might be falling. But thankfully, Tommy is a pilot and he’s got a good grip on him so maybe Buck can let himself feel instead of think.
Tommy is all-consuming and consumes him in the same second. Tommy is a door opening to a wider, more vivid world beyond and Buck is allowed to step inside, hand in hand with the man currently taking all his breaths away.
Buck’s pocket is vibrating. He lets out a hum in the same frequency, too focused on the way Tommy’s teeth rasp along his bottom lip.
His pocket vibrates again and it stops Tommy’s wandering hand from landing on his behind. It makes him want to throw away the weird vibration because he needs Tommy’s hands on him, all of him.
His pocket keeps vibrating and it does the most cruel thing ever - it makes Tommy stop kissing him. But all dark clouds have a silver lining because he doesn’t go far, their noses almost touching, his hands are still on his hips.
“Your phone, Evan,” Tommy’s voice is quiet, hoarse, hot and it takes him too long to process what was said. “Someone’s calling you.”
“Oh,” Buck forces himself to reach for his phone in his back pocket, keeping his free hand in a tight grip of Tommy’s shirt at his shoulder - anything to keep the man close. He keeps forcing himself away from the other man but only enough to look down at the screen of the still vibrating phone. “It’s Eddie.”
Tommy nods and for a terrifying moment, Buck thinks he will step back and his fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt. But he doesn’t, his fingers loop into his belt and his forehead presses against his. Buck can’t control the pleased sigh he lets loose.
“You should pick up,” Tommy usually has great ideas, this is not one. “He’s worried.” He repeats and Buck relents.
Buck owes his best friend an explanation, even if it does interrupt his new-found desire to kiss Tommy for as long as he can. At least the other man doesn’t seem eager to move away.
“Yeah?”
Eddie’s voice is loud through the phone in the quiet of the loft. “Buck, finally, I was worried!”
“Worried?”
Buck’s attention is not on his best friend’s explanation, it’s on the way Tommy is still looking at him, his pupils blown only leaving a thin line of blue visible.
“After the basketball game, I thought maybe you were mad at me or something-”
It’s on the way their chests graze against one another as they breathe.
“It’s not like I can really leave the house with the cast and-”
It’s on the way Tommy’s hand slides towards Buck’s back pocket and the other runs up his arm until it reaches his jaw.
“I asked Tommy to check up on you-”
It’s on the way the other man’s thumb runs along his jawline until it reaches Buck’s chin, sending shivers up and down his spine as he remembers the first world-changing of the night.
“I don’t know if he left already or not but-”
It’s on the way Tommy’s eyes turn to Buck’s parted lips and in the hunger in them, a hunger that he feels reflected on him.
“I just wanted to apologise, I never meant to exclude you or-”
It’s on the way Tommy ducks his head and runs his lips along Buck’s jawline causing a soft gasp to escape.
“Buck?”
It’s on the way he feels Tommy’s lips curl up in a smirk as he moves his kisses down to Buck’s neck, where he is likely to feel his accelerated heart rate.
“Buck, you need to say something or-”
It’s on the way Buck can’t stop the hitch of his breath or the satisfied sigh when Tommy’s tongue soothes the soft bite he left on his pulse point.
“Did something happen, Buck? Do you need me to call someone?”
It’s on…Eddie on the phone.
“Oh, hmm, no, I’m fine,” Buck reassures his friend, his hand tangling once more on Tommy’s hair, while he contents himself with placing chaste - damn chaste - kisses on his neck. “We’re good.”
“O-Okay,” Eddie drawls out and Buck closes his eyes to the pleased hum against his skin. “Did Tommy talk to you? ‘Cause he was-”
“Y-Yeah, Tommy and I talked,” Buck shivers at the way Tommy chuckles against him while his hand grips the meat of his ass. That was different, in the best way. “We’re a-all good.”
“Are you sure? You sound weird.”
“Yeah, I’m j-just busy,” Buck gasps as Tommy’s hand leaves his chin to run down his chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “Was that all?”
“Uh, y-yeah,” Eddie sounds confused on the other side but Buck is trying to keep from moaning or grinding against Tommy at the way the man is working a bruise to the skin below his collarbone. “Is there someone with you?”
“Yes.” Tommy answers, loud enough that Eddie probably hears.
Buck doesn’t have time for subterfuge now.
Not when Tommy takes the phone from his hand, his eyes pleading - promising.
“See you tomorrow, Eds.”
Not when there’s a hot pilot whose mouth he’s not done exploring.
#carolina writes#bucktommy fic#tevan fic#bucktommy#tevan#tommy kinard#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 abc fic#911 7x04
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Curls | Bucktommy
In the bathroom, Buck is grimacing in the mirror, swiping his hands back and forth over his freshly cut hair. His eyebrows are furrowed with indecision; was this a good idea? He hears the front door open.
“Evan? Where are you?” Tommy voices rings out.
“Up here,” Buck calls back, he closes the bathroom door most of the way before Tommy gets up there.
“Oh there you are, what are you doing?” Tommy tries to push open the door but Buck stops him.
“I got a haircut from the place Hen suggested. You’re not allowed to laugh, okay?” Buck’s voice is hesitant.
“I promise I won’t laugh, did they botch it?” Tommy replies with total sincerity. This time Tommy can open the door and step into the bathroom. He examines Buck’s hair, very relieved it actually isn’t botched or a buzzcut.
Tommy takes it in and can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips. His boyfriend looks damn fine; curls in full force and not reigned in like how Buck usually styles it. The hairdresser added a fade making his neck look a lot longer.
“What? It’s awful. Your silence is making me nervous,” Buck rambles out.
Reaching a hand up, Tommy carefully pinches a wild curl and is surprised how soft it is, not at all crunchy with gel. His hand slides down to touch the equally soft hair on the back of his head. He absolutely loves it. “It’s definitely not awful. I always love your curls, babe. I like seeing your natural hair be free for once, and it’s so soft too. You look really really hot actually. It’s trendy for sure, but not in a bad way.”
Buck is still frowning at the mirror and rubs his fingers on the side of his face. “She even shaved off my sideburns,” he pouts and Tommy laughs.
“They will grow back in no time.” He wraps his arms around Buck’s waist and rests his chin on Buck's shoulder, watching him still fuss with his hair. “You know, it does make you look undeniably not straight, if that’s what you were going for.”
”Not really my intention, but I mean I’m not, so I guess it works?” Buck huffs drops his hands. “I’m itching for my gel, I feel so naked without it.”
“Don’t you dare. It’s just new, it’ll grow on you.” Tommy smiles, catching Buck's eyes in the mirror.
“Hey, what about your natural curls, huh? I don't see you easing up on the hair products.” Buck turns his head to look at Tommy.
“Shhh we're not talking about me right now,” Tommy replies and slides a hand up to cup Buck's jaw and kiss his lips. “I'm sure there's something in the pilot handbook about hair regulations,” he mumbles against Buck's mouth then promptly leaves him in the bathroom.
When Buck walks into work the next day he’s greeted with a wolf whistle from Hen, “Damn, Buck! I knew my girl would make you look fresh! You’re looking damn fine.” And he can’t help but smile at the praise. He gets compliments and light teasing from the rest of the crew. Maybe he can live with it.
One of their calls is at the famous gay night club, The Abbey, in Santa Monica. One of the cages that the dancers was in fell with the dancer trapped inside of it. Buck and Eddie had to break out the saw to get the dancer out, luckily he walked away with minor injuries.
They attracted a small crowd of the other dancers- all in skimpy speedo like underwear. Most of them had their eyes on Buck, giving him flirty compliments and asking if he’s ever been there. At first Buck was confused why he was getting most of the attention from these objectively hot men, especially when Eddie and his stache was right there.
Oh right, the hair, he thinks. The ‘undeniably not straight’ hair style he is sporting right now. He couldn’t help feeling a small blush creep into his cheeks.
His attention gets pulled back to one of the dancers, “Are you single? I know it’s really forward of me, but I thought I’d shoot my shot.” At least he’s polite about blatantly hitting on him.
“Oh wow I’m really flattered but yeah, I am taken,” Buck says proudly. He takes out his phone and shows the dancer and his friends his phone lock screen - a selfie of him and Tommy from one of their recent dates. Buck is laughing and Tommy is smirking at the camera with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Oh my God! I know that guy! That’s Mr. August from the 2019 LAFD calendar! I’ll never forget that year,” one of the dancers muses.
“Lucky bastard,” another one says to Buck, which makes his smile grow wider.
Tommy’s phone pings with a picture from Chimney, which there is no doubt this was his idea. It’s of Buck in the middle of a row of speedo clad club dancers. He doesn’t have his jacket on, so it’s just the fire T-shirt with red and yellow suspenders and the turn out pants. He’s holding an ax resting on his shoulder with the cockiest look he could muster; a sexy smirk on his lips with his left eyebrow cocked. The dancers around him are all looking at him, hamming it up for the picture acting like he’s the hottest thing on earth. Tommy couldn’t agree more and immediately makes it his phone background.
Yeah, the hair is growing on Buck.
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan#tevan fic#911 abc#911 fic#evan buckley#tommy kinard#kinley#ficlet#inspired by Oliver’s new s8 hair#curls my beloved
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Buck's at the grocery store buying his umpteenth bag of flour when he sees a very familiar silhouette waiting in line at the cash.
Tommy.
Three months apart and now they finally run into each other?
At two am at the closest twenty-four grocery store Buck could find? When he's dressed in a pair of holey sweatpants and a stained hoodie with dirty hair and a face full of scruff? No cart! Just him and his twenty-pound bag of flour that he's cradling to his chest like a powdery security blanket?
Amazing.
Awesome.
Fucking perfect.
Exactly how he's pictured it.
As Buck gets closer though, his eyes narrow at the sight before him.
Not at all like he's pictured it.
Tommy's shoulders curl inward as he hunches over his cart, head low. His threadbare shorts hang off of him in a way they never would have three months and one day earlier. His feet are shoved into his shoes without socks.
Tommy hates going without socks.
His curls have grown long and messy, lying limp against his scalp.
Buck carefully sidles up beside him, not quite in his field of vision yet, frowning at how pale Tommy's skin is. Practically grey.
He looks like shit.
For one whole moment, Buck wishes he could feel some kind of vindication—gloat, maybe—but he doesn't have the energy.
Or the heart for it.
And one glance into Tommy's cart has him refocused on being incandescently enraged over the bullshit currently sitting in there.
"What the hell, Tommy?" Buck bursts out, making the man jump and whirl around.
"Ev—Buck, what? What are you doing here? What's—what's happening right now?" Tommy stares at him, wide and unblinking, like he's afraid to take his eyes off him.
"What's happening is I'm saving you from this cartload of crap," Buck says, elbowing his way past him to gain possession of the cart.
He shifts the bag of flour to one arm and uses his free hand to pull out the package of bakery donuts that somehow manage to look cracked and soggy all at the same time.
Then the box of cookies that he knows for a fact taste like they're one step away from cardboard.
Then the cake that says 'Happy Birthday, Leo!' and has a seventy-five percent off sticker on it. He side-eyes Tommy for that one.
Tommy makes a face right back.
Buck keeps going, pulling out the lemon loaf that doesn't actually look too bad, but whatever—his is better.
Everything of Buck's is better than this crap.
...Tommy just doesn't know that yet.
"Just stop! For one second." Tommy reaches out to grab Buck's wrist before he can grab the package of—gross—bran muffins. He takes a deep breath before he finally meets Buck's eyes.
"What is this?" he asks again quietly.
"Me, actually stopping you from making a mistake this time," Buck says, yanking his wrist back with a scowl. He falters for a second when his own words register in his brain, but he shakes it off and grabs the muffins out of the cart, dumping them beside the cookies. "This stuff is all terrible. You deserve better, Tommy."
"It's what they have," Tommy said tiredly.
"Yeah, well, I have better stuff at my place." Buck sets his flour down in front of the unimpressed-looking cashier. "Sorry about that," he says, digging out his wallet. "We'll just take this. And these."
"Oh, I'm allowed to keep the oranges?" Tommy rolls his eyes as Buck grabs the bag out of the cart and places them alongside his flour.
"For now," Buck snips back.
Maybe he'll make an orange loaf.
Right after he convinces Tommy to come back to his place and he feeds him edible baked goods and—and maybe they talk and...
Yeah.
This isn't a half bad plan.
He can work with this.
"Just the flour and the oranges," he says to the cashier, pulling his card free as he flashes a grin at Tommy. Feeling it spread wider when the corners of Tommy's mouth twitch reluctantly in return.
He can work with this.
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan#tevan fic#kinley#kinley fic#911 fic#bucktommy ficlet#911#tommy kinard#evan 'buck' buckley#evan buckley#911 ficlet#i don't know what this is really but here you go
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Here's a little "nobody knows we're back together" ficlet that I definitely didn't write while avoiding the prompts in my inbox.😅🙊
---
"Buck! Where are you? I've been banging on your door for the last fifteen minutes, your neighbours are going to call the cops on me soon." Chim said when Buck finally answered his phone.
"Chim? What's going on?" He asked, still half asleep.
Two minutes ago he'd been warm and comfortable, asleep in Tommy's arms, planning on enjoying the fact neither of them had anywhere to be for the next three days, and now his brother in law was yelling at him over the phone.
"What's going on is that I'm outside your door and I need you to open up before I get arrested for disrupting the peace."
"That's not a thing." Buck mumbled as he reluctantly untangled himself from Tommy's grip and looked around for something to wear.
He put the call on speaker as he pulled a hoodie over his head and was vaguely aware of Chim telling him it was most definitely a thing while putting on a pair of sweats that may or may not be his.
"Where are you going? Come back to bed." Tommy mumbled, reaching out for him. His hair was a mess and there were pillow creases in his cheek, but Buck thought he'd never looked better.
"Someone's at the door. I'll be right back." he leaned down for a kiss and only just managed to resist the urge of letting his boyfriend pull him back into bed with him.
"Hurry back."
"Yeah, I'll get rid of him and then I'm all yours."
"I can hear you, you know." Chim's voice came through the phone. "And will you just open the damn door already?"
"I'm coming, relax." Buck mumbled and dropped a kiss in Tommy's hair before making his way down the stairs. He hoped whatever Chim's problem was, would be an easy fix and he'd be back in Tommy's arms soon.
They'd been back together for a few weeks now, after Buck had finally decided to call Tommy, and then show up on his doorstep when he hadn't answered.
They'd yelled and cried until they'd both been exhausted and collapsed into bed together for the best night's sleep either of them had had since the break up.
The next morning they'd decided to keep things to themselves for a while, to actually enjoy dating and getting to know each other without friends and family getting involved.
As far as he knew nobody suspected anything, though that could be changing soon.
Buck rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened the door.
"Finally! Your neighbour from down the hall is this close to calling the cops on me." Chim held up his thumb and pointer finger, barely an inch apart, as he walked into the loft, followed by Jee-yun who was holding onto his other hand, looking unsure of what was going on.
"What? Which one?"
"Does it matter?"
"No I suppose not." Buck mumbled, closing the door behind Chim. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here? I'm here to drop off your niece, who you agreed to watch today while both me and Maddie picked up extra shifts."
"Wait, what? When did I agree to that? Why are you working an extra shift?"
"I don't know, the second child that's on its way maybe? Or the family trip to Korea we've got planned for next year? That I told you about. More than once."
"I... Uh... Yeah... Ok... Right."
And whoever you've got up there can either leave or get down here and deal with you watching your niece." Chim said, raising his voice slightly and yelling up the stairs." I heard you talking to someone so don't try the there's no-one there thing."
Buck sighed.
There was no way Chim was going to let this go. And if he was, Jee would tell him or Maddie by the time they came to pick her up.
"Babe, are you awake? Just put some clothes on and get down here a minute."
"Babe? You call your hook up babe?" Chim asked but Buck ignored him.
They heard the bed creak and there was some shuffling upstairs.
"I think I've got your sweats, just grab mine." Buck called out and did his best to ignore the looks Chim was giving him.
"You've got a guy up there? Well good for you, getting back out there after Tommy. You're not getting out of babysitting though."
Buck gave him a slight shrug and just kept watching the top of the stairs.
He could tell the exact moment Tommy came into view and Chim recognised him without even watching either of them.
Tommy slowly walked down the stairs, still half asleep, and wearing Buck's clothes. He gave Chim a half wave as he shuffled past him and over to Buck.
"Morning." he pressed a dry kiss to Buck's lips and then turned to face Chim. "Morning Howie. I hope you'll forgive me for not giving you a good morning kiss, I haven't brushed my teeth yet."
"But you will kiss me before brushing your teeth?" Buck teased and Tommy tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.
"I think we both know I've done a lot more than that without brushing my teeth and you didn't seem to mind."
Buck laughed a little but decided not to argue with him.
"When did this happen? When did you get back together? Are you back together?"
"We are." Tommy confirmed, slipping an arm around Buck's waist and sleepily resting his head on his shoulder.
"We got back together a few weeks ago but we wanted to keep it quiet for now." Buck explained. "But I guess everyone will know within the hour now."
Chim looked at them, trying to process the information, until suddenly the loud music from one of Jee's favourite shows started blaring through the loft.
Buck kind of regretted teaching her how to work his TV.
"I... You... But..." Chim stammered then focused on Tommy. "Wait... When you blew me off last week when I wanted to take you out to karaoke..."
"I had plans with Evan."
"I can't believe it." he mumbled and turned to Buck. "But you're still baking."
"We bake together. And some of the stuff I've brought in the past few weeks was store bought." Buck explained. "We just wanted to enjoy being together without everyone else getting involved. I'm just... tired of everyone telling me what to do or what I feel. I want to be with him, I love him."
Tommy lifted his head and smiled.
"I love you too." he said and the two of them shared a kiss.
"I... am happy for you guys." Chim settled on. "and you're going to tell me exactly how and when this happened." he gestured to the two of them. "But I'm running late for my shift and we need the money so..." he trailed off and quickly walked over to Jee. "Sweetheart, daddy has to go to work now, ok? You be good for your uncle Buck and uncle Tommy."
Jee nodded, barely paying attention to her father, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Chim kissed the top of her head and turned back to Buck and Tommy.
"Maddie will pick her up after her shift. She'll text you when she's on her way." he told them, making his way to the door. "You owe me a drink and a night of karaoke, Kinard."
"Sure. Text me. We'll pick a date."
"Sure. If you think you can fit me in between work and making out with my brother in law." Chim joked. "Ok I have to go. Have a good day guys, and please don't traumatise my daughter." he laughed and walked out the door, only to come back in right away. "Don't think this means you can elope when you get married. I need to see you all dressed up and standing up in front of everyone. Just so I can remind you I got you together." he paused and looked at Tommy. "Just don't give him a clipboard."
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Like A Kid Again
Prompt: Banter
@bucktommyfluffebruary
A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/162682855
Buck followed after his boyfriend, trying to figure out what had gotten into him.
With his fingers tightly gripping his, he practically dragged him further up the hill, looking as though he was going to be taking them all the way up to the crest, and Buck shook his head and attempted to pull out of his grip, saying, “Hey, I said we could have a picnic and I already did all the hiking up here, I’m not doing more of that,” and was thrilled when he escaped from his grip and moved out of reach, skipping backwards, grinning as Tommy reached out to grab at his waist, but missing by a mile.
“Ha! Nice try!” he teased, being careful of his footing, making sure that he didn’t slip on the slick grass at the same time he dodged his boyfriend’s attempts to recapture him—and then was suddenly taken aback when Tommy caught up to him and managed to get his fingers around the back of his shirt, pulling him towards him.
“Got you,” he muttered, sounding far too smug.
Buck twisted and managed to get out his grasp a second time and tried to run off a second time.
“Gotta catch me!” he shouted over his shoulder, smiling wide when he saw Tommy trying to catch up to him, for once his long legs coming in handy as he ran from him, not quite going full speed, but going just fast enough to make him work for it.
--
Tommy did his best to catch his breath as he tried to catch up to Evan, his boyfriend suddenly in a mood, and he prayed that the gazelle-legged idiot didn’t ruin his plans. The ring was in his pocket, zipped up tightly, but as it bounced against his side as he jogged after his boyfriend, he felt a flutter of nerves.
He loved Evan, that much was certain…but was it too soon?
Was it too soon to ask him to spend the rest of his life with him and wake up every morning next to the same person without ever letting him have the chance to experience anything else outside of his first queer relationship?
Wait, no. He shook his head as he picked up his speed, trying to catch up to his boyfriend, reminding himself that he was doing Evan a disservice by thinking that just because he was his first relationship with a guy that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into—hell, that had been one of the things they’d talked about when they got back together, about how he had made assumptions and made decisions for the two of them instead of talking it over with him.
Tommy’s hand caught the edge of his boyfriend’s shirt a second time, and he did his best to shove the thought to the side—
—but then Evan slipped away again, saying, “You gotta do better than that!” and he narrowed his eyes and refocused on trying to catch the thirty-four year old man who had suddenly turned into a child playing a game of tag or keep-away.
The item in question being kept? His heart.
As hokey as it was, there was something freeing in the way he chased after him over the wide expanse of grass, both of them being careful to avoid the edges where there were trees, knowing that there was a dangerous drop-off on the other side, and Tommy smirked as he realized how he could catch him and yelled, “Don’t go over the edge! I don’t have a helicopter to catch you, and our cell service is spotty, at best!” and Evan almost immediately slowed down.
…and Tommy lunged forward, thrilled when he got both of his hands around his waist.
--
“Got you,” the airman whispered into Buck’s ear, and he shivered, but at the same time tried to pull out of his grip. When he found he couldn’t, he did his best to wriggle against him in an attempt to distract him, but Tommy merely said, “Nice try, but even your perfect ass isn’t gonna distract me…”
He moved one hand and reached down and lightly slapped it.
Buck grunted.
“Ugh, babe…don’t start something you can’t finish,” he lowly said, and his boyfriend chuckled and breathed into his ear, “Who says I can’t finish?” and Buck rolled his eyes and swiftly turned around and gave him a look, no longer trying to get away from him, and said as he levelled his eyes at him, “We are in a public space, I don’t care that we are isolated in the middle of nature, I am not letting you dick me down here in the grass,” and was thrilled when that earned him a full body laugh, Tommy’s eyes crinkling up, his nose scrunching in the process, one of his favorite things to see on him.
While laughing, Tommy managed to gasp out, “Dick…dick you down? You…you thought that was…was the right…right phrase to use?” and Buck nodded, not budging one bit, moving his hand around his hip to pull him close.
“Oh, I’m sorry, what would you have me use? Laying me low? Having grassy congress? Logging my—?”
“Don’t finish that sentence. I beg of you,” he softly pleaded, his eyes wide, and Buck snorted and shook his head and got closer to him and said, “Okay, but only because you asked so nicely,” feeling the way his boyfriend’s fingers slipped into his back pocket and gently groped him.
“By the way, what’s gotten into you?” he asked the airman, curious as to his mood. “First you take over my picnic, and, you know, I was chill with that. It’s a good spot, nice and romantic, don’t think I could’ve picked a better place. Second, you start taking pictures of the food…and then third, you decided to drag me further up the hill to the very edge of what I think is reasonable. So…let me ask my question again: what’s gotten into you?”
Tommy’s expression turned soft.
“I dunno. Just…follow me, will you?”
He slowly unwound himself from him and instead gently held his head and gave him a beckoning look with his eyes, and Buck felt a flutter in his chest and he nodded, following his boyfriend up the hill, closer to the edge, putting his trust in him…
#bucktommyfluffebruary#buck x tommy#evan buckley#tommy kinard#tevan#tevan fic#tevan fanfic#tevan fanfiction#fluff#banter#nephilimeq fanfic
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Once again I need to get off my ass and go work but instead all I'm thinking about is Them:
Buck's mostly got his breathing under control by the time he hears the side door slide open, and he adjusts his weight automatically, tips his chin as he straightens his spine, tugs at the bottom of his suit jacket like that will fix the wrinkles he'd made bending at the waist for the last ten minutes.
"Buck?"
He's turned away, thank god, so Tommy can't see the wince.
"I'm fine," he says, annoyed with himself and the world at large when it comes out wobbly. "Go back ins-." When he hears the door click shut again he takes a moment to hope Tommy's just left, again, but -
No such luck.
"That door locks from the inside," Buck murmurs, and tears his gaze away from the gentle expression on Tommy's face. There'd been a cardboard box wedged up in there by whatever line cook had been out here smoking when Buck burst through the doors, and the guy had left it with a warning about how insanely large this building was and how few doors along its perimeter were unlocked, and now the broken down box is somewhere beneath Tommy's left foot.
Tommy tries the door anyway.
It doesn't budge. "We could just call Eddie," Tommy says, and Buck feels the ire rise in his throat.
"Eddie's not here," he spits, and it feels like a knife under the ribs. Everyone fucking leaves, eventually. "Call your date, if you want. I'm walking."
Buck heaves himself up from his lean against the brick, takes two large strides to make it past Tommy and keeps going.
He should have known better than taking Bobby at his word that this stupid gala would be worth his time. So far he's dodged conversations about the curse of the 118, spent an unbearable five minutes smiling blandly at Gerrard before he could excuse himself, and tossed two numbers written on raffle tickets into the trash in his mad dash through the kitchens because apparently Tommy had been chosen as the rep for 217 and he looks fucking good in his suit, and he'd been pretty sure they'd be spending this Christmas together, until last month.
He's twenty yards down the alley when he hears footsteps catching up to him. Light, brisk - he's jogging to catch up and Buck doesn't want to deal with -
"Not my date," Tommy says, and Buck curses his own body for automatically slowing to allow him to catch up.
Buck snorts. "Okay." The guy was older - than Buck, at least. Grey around his temples, fat lips and clever eyes that caught Tommy's mid-sentence and sent them both into quiet hysterics.
"Buck, would you just -."
He's close enough to reach for Buck's arm, so Buck wrenches it away before he can make contact. "Don't call me that."
December twenty-third is one of those weird days where the world doesn't quite work the same. Traffic is heavier or lighter in weird places, people with nothing to do wander the streets or hole up in their homes making too much food and watching weird holiday movies, and even in LA it gets chilly enough at night to need a jacket. This one isn't doing shit to keep Buck warm, but the anger catching in his throat sure is.
"It's your name," Tommy says, exasperated.
"Not to you." Buck stops dead in his tracks, watches Tommy take another three steps before he realizes he's alone. When he turns, Buck doesn't allow himself to turn away from his gaze. Annoyance isn't a new look - Buck has tested the waters enough in six months to know intimately exactly how far he could push it before Tommy stopped indulging him.
He looks upset. Frustrated. Tired. Hot as fuck. Buck sort of wishes he'd do something about those first two.
Something other than walk away.
Tommy sighs. Runs a hand through his hair, and the sides aren't as high and tight anymore. There's a piece curling over the tip of his ear and Buck wants to tug at it, slide his fingers in there and tuck it back. "That was Sal," he says, and Buck flicks through the sadly small Rolodex of names Tommy has mentioned in the past. Another boundary Buck hadn't realized was a brick fucking wall in the way of getting to know his boyfriend.
Ex.
Sal. He'd been at the 118 with Gerrard, in the early days. Before Chim and Hen, before Bobby. He'd been the one to prompt Tommy into filing a complaint against Gerrard even though he'd been scared out of his mind to do it.
"I don't care."
He does care, is the problem. He cares so much. He's got a pile of fruit cakes and half a dozen pies sitting on his kitchen island right now that prove it. He can't seem to stop caring.
Tommy looks sceptical.
Buck brushes past him again, keeping his strides long. Tommy's the same height, but both literally and metaphorically he's always struggled to keep up when Buck had somewhere to be.
At least the panic attack has passed. Maybe he could take up running, as a cure all, instead of the weak ass recovery period he usually takes that involves him drinking a bottle of water and staring at the same spot on the wall until he sees stars.
So, fine. Tommy hadn't brought a date to the work function it was entirely possible Buck would be at six weeks after breaking up with him and disappearing into the damn wind. He'd bubbled Buck seven times that Buck knew of, and he hadn't brought a date.
Fine.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked -."
Buck had watched Tommy wheeze with laughter and curl a hand around the dudes - Sal's - wrist and he'd felt like maybe he was gonna throw up. Like six months and the something he'd been working his way up to defining hadn't meant a damn thing. Like Tommy could just move on like he seemed to think Buck could.
"Doing great, Tommy. My best friend is moving to Texas and the man I thought I could -." Buck clears his throat. Shuffles sideways just a bit because Tommy is keeping pace now and his cologne is familiar and devastating. He doesn't have anything inside. Once he rounds this corner he could just order an Uber and go home.
There's nothing keeping him here.
"Eddie's moving?"
The no contact thing had extended to everyone at the 118, apparently. At least Buck wasn't alone in that.
Buck digs out his phone, slows his pace just enough to pull up the app he needs. He can feel Tommy's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.
"Yeah, well. I'm getting used to people leaving at this point," he says, filling it with as much ire as he can. His voice doesn't wobble this time.
"Buck."
It's soft, this time, same inflection as when he'd cage Buck against a counter and lick into his mouth. "Don't worry about me, Tommy. You made it a point not to."
"That's not fair."
Buck couldn't care less. He's spent six weeks on a depression baking spiral and now he wants to go home and destroy every bit of baked goods he's made that are still left.
It only takes a few taps. They're surging prices, but that's not exactly a shocker.
He'd really thought the next time he saw Tommy he'd just be sad. Maybe he'd feel a little wistful about all the moments they'd shared that had meant something to Buck even if they hadn't meant the same to Tommy.
He wants to swing a fist, if he's being honest. He wouldn't. Not ever. But the desire is there and he hates it.
"Buck, could we just -."
"Stop calling me that!"
"I pay a mortgage, Evan!"
Buck can't remember Tommy ever raising his voice. It's - weird.
"I'm forty years old and I own a house and you asked me to move in to your loft after you told me you admired me." The emphasis isn't lost on him.
His ride is three minutes away.
"I got it the first time, Tommy. Haven't sucked enough cocks or done enough tests to know what I really want, so. Go enjoy your evening with Sal and -."
"That is not what I said." Cool, calm. Infuriating.
"Well that's what I got from it, so clearly we were never on the same page. I wanted a future with you and you've been eyeing the expiration date the whole time so -."
He's definitely not expecting Tommy's lips. But there they are, on his, and Buck's stumbling back, fully expecting the sharp crack of the brick at the back of his head as Tommy surges forward with him, only Tommy's hand curls around his skull at the last second and takes the brunt of the landing. His mouth opens on a groan and Buck licks up into it. Their noses clash and rather than shifting for better positioning they just press closer. Tommy's free hand finds the soft give of Buck's waist and his thigh finds purchase between Buck's legs and -
"You're willfully misunderstanding me," Tommy says, lips on Buck's jaw, heart pounding under Buck's hand, his breath ghosting along Buck's cheek.
"Never really gave me the opportunity for clarity," Buck bites back, and Tommy huffs, rolls his hips, tucks his forehead into the juncture of Buck's shoulder.
His pulse is pounding in his ears and there's a cloud of Tommy Tommy Tommy obscuring his senses.
"Do you still want that?"
Buck's phone dings in his hand.
His ride is here.
"Not if you're just gonna walk away again," Buck bites out, and shoves. Hard.
It barely moves Tommy, but it's enough to slip out of his grasp.
He doesn't glance behind to see if Tommy follows as he pulls at his suit jacket again and rounds the corner to try to catch - he eyes his phone - Sheri before she cancels the ride on him.
Doesn't stop him from hearing the footfalls behind him while he searches out the blue Honda Civic.
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