#also I could probably clean this up but I need to go!

[exhaustedpirate]

cinnamon-flavoured kisses

my offering for the 'crash that jeep' fam with a dash of missing scene from 7x03! take a shot everytime i make a coffee metaphor and keep 911 on speed dial (i take no responsibility) also, tommy kinard's coffee order is my coffee order and i will hear no complaints *smooch*

rated T | 6626 words also on AO3

It’s been almost two months but Buck still forgets to set up the coffee machine to brew in the morning.

Firefighter Buckley!

Every night, he goes to bed and every morning, he wakes up without coffee hot and waiting for him. 

It’s nothing major, really, just an extra fifteen minutes he could save.

Buckley!

Tommy used to set it up for him. 

And every night, they went to bed together and every morning, they would wake up to the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee. 

Buck, come on!

Tommy chose the machine. 

One morning, they woke up to an overpowering smell of coffee in the house. To a kitchen flooded with coffee. 

Please!

Tommy helped him clean up. They grabbed coffee on the way to the appliance’s store as Buck rambled on about this or that machine until he let Tommy choose one.

So it really isn’t his fault that he forgets to set up the coffee machine. It’s on Tommy. He chose it.

Yeah.

“Evan, Evan!”

It’s Tommy’s fault.

“Please, come back to me!”

---

15 Minutes Earlier

His coffee sucked.

He had set it to brew while he took a shower that morning. It was probably the wrong temperature, he must have clicked the wrong button. 

He must have been wrong.

Nope, not the time for that, Buck. That’s what the shower was for - it’s not crying if you’re in the shower. And that was a bad habit on its own, his morning routine was suffering.

But it was coffee and really, he needed all the energy he could get. It wasn’t as if he had been sleeping well for the past couple months. 

He takes another sip at the red light. It really doesn’t help that the coffee sucks.

He’s been adamant at making it work, though, he isn’t about to give up now. There is a metaphor that he is not going to acknowledge. He isn’t.

The sound of sirens approaches the intersection, distracting him. An engine zooms by first, so fast he can barely see the numbers on it. The RA engine drives by just as fast. The vans in front of him are too tall. 

Buck sighs, taking another sip of the coffee. It still sucks. He doesn’t know why he expected it to be any different, he should have learned his lesson. He downs the rest of the coffee.

The light turns green and he follows the vans towards the right. He’s probably gonna get to the station just in time. Bobby will probably have coffee and breakfast for him ready, he’s complained enough about his coffee machine that his Captain has taken pity on him.

The sounds of sirens get louder and louder as he drives. In the approaching distance, he sees the orange glow of the fire. Almost unconsciously, he turns on the radio he still has on his truck, fiddling with the frequency to catch the walkies’ channel.

“-igin is on the first floor, Captain! The second floor has been evacuated.”

“Secure the first floor with Gimenez, Melton!” The Captain’s voice is familiar. The vans in front of him pick up speed on the stretch of road in front of them. “Jones, Nolan, check the basement. Donato, Kinard, feed the hoses.”

The coffee taste in his mouth turns bitter. It feels like a cruel sign from the universe. His coffee sucked and his ex-boyfriend is working a fire a few meters away from him. Bobby better have pancakes, he needs it. 

The traffic slows down. He starts to see the flames.

“Cap, there’s a methane leak in the basement.”

“Evacuate the building! Kinard, help cover the perimeter.”

Buck can see Tommy’s large figure jog across the street, to a familiar figure in blue. He swallows around the lump in his throat. He begs to anyone who’ll hear that he won’t have to drive past him, that he won’t have to pretend to be unaffected by his presence, that he won’t have to see the look of indifference in Tommy’s face. Please.

“Cap,” The panicked and breathless voice of one of the firefighters comes through the radio and Buck holds his breath as the van in front of him slows down almost to a stop. “The gas main line is damaged, it’s-”

There’s an explosion right behind him, the car behind him tipping to the side. It’s followed by an explosion from the building. His world shakes. Before he can move out of the car, straighten himself or even take another breath, an explosion sets off right under the van in front of him.

The large van tips over his jeep just as the ground rumbles. 

“The ground is unstable!” Tommy. His voice is full of static and he almost wants to smile. “We need to evacuate!”

He can’t believe that he has been having terrible coffee for two months.

He hears the cracks on the pavement over the shouts of the firefighters of the 217. No matter where he goes, he knows what’s going to happen. 

He should have fixed his coffee machine months ago instead of waiting for it to magically fix itself. He could have used those extra 15 minutes today.

The ground clatters right under him, he feels that weightless feeling for only a few seconds. His jeep reaches the ground first before everything else joins him. He hears the groaning metal of the van before it tips over him and the world goes dark.

---

The sun has set by the time Buck is following Chimney through Harbor Station’s mostly empty hangar.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Eddie asks as he walks alongside Buck. “Shouldn’t we talk to Hen first?”

“This is the only way,” Chimney says for the millionth time in the past hour. “Besides, I know she’s coming here.”

“You still haven’t told us why, Chim.” Buck points out.

“Howie?”

A large figure in blue walks towards them when he spots them. Chimney beams before winking at Buck and Eddie.

“He is why,” He says before he brings the man in for a back-slapping hug. “Good to see you, man!”

The “why” is a tall, broad man in a dark blue flight suit. He has a wide smile that makes wrinkles appear on the side of his face. The “why” has a cleft. His stomach feels weird.

Maybe he does have food poisoning. 

He didn’t actually have the sushi.

“Let me guess,” The man looks amusedly at Chim as he crosses his very large arms over his very broad chest. Hmm. “You need a favour?”

“You make it sound as if I only come to you for favours,” His brother-in-law holds up his hands with an innocent expression on his face. The man raises an eyebrow looking pointedly at Chim. “Fine, fine, I do need a favour.”

The man rolls his eyes good-naturedly, letting his posture relax, hands on his hips. “You’re lucky I owe you, Howie.” 

Eddie lets out a pointed cough and Buck could kiss his best friend for how it brings the man’s attention to them. He has blue eyes. They are…really blue.

He needs to remember that he didn’t have the sushi.

“Ah, before we get down to business,” Chim turns so he’s between them. “Guys, this is Tommy Kinard, he used to work at the 118 seven years ago.”

“Eddie Diaz,” The brunette man holds out his hand for Tommy to shake, a friendly smile on their faces. “You used to be at the 118?”

“I did, but that was before I decided flying helicopters was a much better fit.”

“That is so cool,” Buck’s voice comes out breathy and awed without his permission and it brings Tommy’s eyes back to his. That damn sushi. Wait. Buck clears his throat and holds out his hand. “Evan Buckley.”

“Nice to meet you, Evan.” 

His hand is warm and calloused. His smile is so damn soft. And his eyes are really blue.

Maybe someone snuck the bad sushi into his stomach on the way here?

“About that favour,” Chim interrupts and Buck almost growls at the loss of Tommy’s hand on his. Damnit. “We really need your help.”

Tommy stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a carefully attentive expression on his face, as Chimney explains what happened and subtly pleads for the pilot’s help. Buck feels Eddie’s eyes on the side of his face and turns to him - reluctantly because who doesn’t want to see those arms stretched over the flight suit? - with a confused frown.

“What?” Buck asks quietly.

“You didn’t-,” Eddie interrupts himself and presses his lips together. Buck feels like he’s been put under a microscope the way his best friend is looking at him. “You good, Buck?”

And his nickname felt like an accusation, like Eddie was poking at something but Buck didn’t get it. His confused frown wrinkled his whole face.

“Wha-”

“Alright, boys,” Tommy’s voice cuts him off with a clap of his large hands. They all turn to him. “Who’s ready to commit a crime?” His grin was wide despite the worry hidden in his face.

Chimney was just delighted as he put up his hand. “I am, I am.”

Eddie laughs as he nods. Buck follows them through the hangar even as he frowns.

“Wait, what are we doing?”

Tommy opens his mouth but Chimney is the one to answer his question. “Tommy here is gonna help us find Cap and Athena.”

Buck’s frown turns into wide eyes as he looks between Chim, Tommy and the sleek helicopter that almost magically appears in front of them - maybe Buck was distracted, maybe it was magic. “You’re flying us?”

Tommy just winks at him, and really there must be a rave going on in his stomach, before opening the door to the helicopter. “Wanna hop in first, Evan?”

And really Buck is too busy grinning widely at Tommy’s offer and making sure he doesn’t fall on his face while getting into the helicopter, to notice Eddie’s suspicious gaze on his back and his muttering of ‘Evan’. But really, there are better things to focus on, like Tommy’s fond look and his deep laugh. Much better things.

And then there was really nothing else to focus on besides not dying on a helicopter in the middle of a hurricane and saving Cap and Athena. But he did get to see Tommy’s smile again, the one that made his face scrunch up in the most adorable way.

And then he was going for his best friend’s ankles like the jealous man he was.

And getting kissed in his kitchen.

Seeing Tommy smile, feeling Tommy’s touches, the way he holds him. 

He did end up figuring out his coffee order. It took him five tries.

The new machine made great coffee. Before it broke.

---

Tommy had had crappy coffee before.

Especially at the fire station. Harbor was great but the coffee machine sucked - he’s been a big advocate for getting a new machine. But the budget doesn’t care about his caffeine intake.

Evan learned his coffee order. It took him five tries. 

He kinda wished it had taken him longer. He loved to see the expectant look on his face, the way he would frown when Tommy would shake his head, the way his eyes would sparkle with determination as he made some sort of mental note. 

He kinda wished he could relive the day he got it right. The way Evan’s eyes widened and his lips stretched into a happy smile, ecstatic, giddy, and the way they high-fived and laughed together. The way Evan moaned and sighed into their kiss as he surely tasted the sweet coffee on Tommy’s mouth. “Great choice, babe”, he had said as he licked his lips.

Now, every coffee sucked. For the past two months, he’s been having coffee at the station, not wanting to risk running into Ev-Buck at their coffee shop.��

They had a coffee shop. The barista knew their names and their orders.

He couldn’t go back there alone.

So, fire station coffee would have to do.

Maybe if he continued to punish himself with crappy coffee, he would feel better.

As he followed his Captain’s orders, he still felt the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue. It did its job, it kept him awake, he hadn’t been sleeping well. 

“Cap,” Nolan’s voice comes through the radio and Tommy welcomes how it brings his thoughts back to the scene. “There’s a methane leak in the basement.”

“Evacuate the building, now!” His Captain turns to him, a finger pointed towards the police officers already on scene. “Kinard, help cover the perimeter.”

With a nod, Tommy jogs towards the closest police cruiser and almost falters at the familiar figure that turns towards him. Athena Grant raises an eyebrow at him, the only crack in her otherwise professional mask. His heart pounds in his chest.

“Firefighter Kinard.”

His heart is ready to jump out of his throat. “Sergeant Grant,” He nods. “There’s a methane leak in the building, we need to start evacuating people.”

She nods and half-turns towards another officer. “Start working on traffic-”

“Cap,” Tommy falters at the panic in Jones’ voice. “The gas main line is damaged, it’s-”

An explosion startles both him and Athena as they watch a car tip over from the off-center explosion. The fallen vehicle is the third in the line, a van at the front and a Jeep between the two cars. There’s something familiar about the Jeep, maybe the color or the model. Another explosion sets off under the van and it causes it to rear up and fall over the Jeep.

The ground rumbles and Tommy jumps into action. 

“The ground is unstable!” He yells at the radio as he rushes to the fallen vehicles, his heart pounding as if it knows something Tommy doesn’t. “We need to evacuate!” 

He hears the cracks and watches as the pavement under the Jeep opens making the car fall down. A hand pulls him away as the cracks reach close to his feet. The van falls over the Jeep and his heart stops. 

Why? He doesn’t know. There’s a desperation in his body, a numbness spreading all over and he wants to claw out of his body.

“The 118 and 133 are already on their way,” His Captain calls out through the radio. “Sound out.”

Tommy stands paralysed, looking at the cars filling up the hole on the ground, as his colleagues call out through the radio. Most of them are okay, a couple of them got injured but everyone is walking.

“Kinard?” He hears the crackle of his radio like he’s underwater. 

“Firefighter Kinard?” Athena calls, pulls on his wrist, tries to catch his eye. “Tommy?”

Tommy frowns, clears his throat, shakes his head. He reaches for his radio. “Kinard here, two vehicles fell into the hole caused by the gas explosion. We need extraction teams.”

���Donato, Melton, get ready with the winch.”

“Tommy?” Athena calls him again.

The sirens have him turning towards the other side of the street, the engines approaching them quickly. The 118 is on scene and his stomach feels weird. He watches as Captain Nash orders everyone around, expecting to see a head of curls rush to comply with orders. 

But he’s not there.

Bobby makes his way to where he and Athena are standing. She is still holding his wrist. His old Captain has a frown on his face that is more than just regular work focus.

Something is wrong. His gut pulls at him.

“Is everything okay, Bobby?” Athena asks and finally lets go of him, his body aches.

Bobby looks at Tommy and he expects anger, disappointment or something equally as painful. But he just nods, maybe more tensely than normal, before he turns to Athena, apprehensively. His eyes keep glancing at Tommy and that desperation starts clawing at his throat again.

“Buck didn’t make it to the station-”

Tommy doesn’t wait to hear the rest before he rushes out towards the scene. He vaguely hears the others call out for caution. The van covers the top of the jeep, the angle causing it to hide the driver from where Tommy stands but he sees the van driver move. 

Time moves slowly as he carefully walks around the hole until he can see the back of the Jeep. He chokes out a laugh as tears blurry his vision at the sight of the bumper sticker he gave him a month before the breakup. “I am a great ally,” Evan had beamed as he immediately stuck the pink, purple and royal blue sticker on his car. “And I have a great boyfriend to prove it.”

Tommy takes a deep breath, pushing down the memory of that smiling kiss so he can focus. Evan needs him to focus. He grabs the radio as he looks back at a confused Bobby and Athena still where he left them. Tommy sees how Bobby realises what he’ll say before he does.

“The van driver is conscious and moving, Firefighter Buckley is stuck in his Jeep below, no visual on him.”

Everyone starts moving. The van driver is being carefully extracted by Hen and Howie while Eddie hooks the winch onto the van to remove it first. Images of what they’ll find when it’s removed flood his mind, that clawing ripping through his throat, a fist clenching his heart, a stomp on his stomach, his feet unstable.

“Eddie,” Bobby calls through the radio as he stands beside Tommy. “Once you’re done with the van, get strapped in, you’re going down to the Jeep.”

“Bobby-”

Eddie interrupts Tommy’s protest. “Will do, Cap.” 

“You’re staying here,” Bobby’s tone brokers no argument as he looks at Tommy. “You’re too close to this.”

“The driver is out,” Howie’s voice comes through the radio. “You can pull the van.”

The sound of the winch echoes all around him as he watches the battered Jeep being revealed from under it. The metal roof has caved in on itself and a hand sticks out from the open window. 

It’s his hand. Drops of blood fall from his fingertips. 

He remembers the day when Tommy cooked his famous lasagna, the only thing he could cook really, and Evan insisted on doing the dishes. He remembers making Evan laugh, the sound filling his chest with that bubbly feeling he had gotten so used to. He remembers the feel of Evan’s body shaking with laughter under his tickling fingers. He remembers the soapy water falling from his fingertips to the floor as Tommy got Evan’s arms around his neck and kissed him against the counter. 

It was a good memory. He wished they were back there. He wishes that the blood would be replaced by soapy water and the sounds of sirens and yelled out orders would be replaced by laughter.

“Get strapped in, Eddie.” Bobby says through the radio. It echoes. Tommy frowns.

Tommy’s hand wraps tightly on his radio. “Firefighter Buckley!”

The sound echoes all around the scene and he hears his voice from inside the Jeep. Evan’s fingers twitch, barely a move, but it’s there.

“He’s alive, Bobby,” Tommy turns towards his former Captain, uncaring for the desperation in his voice. “Did you see that?”

Bobby is frowning, a concerned look on his face as he meets Tommy’s eyes. “Eddie is almost ready,” He must see the way Tommy gets more restless. “Tommy.” He warns.

Tommy clenches and unclenches his toes, wanting to follow orders, he was made to follow orders. “Buckley!” He calls through the radio again, the fingers twitch again.

He hears Eddie curse, hears the harness fall to the ground from fumbling fingers. It’s taking too long.

“Buck,” The name tastes bitter on his tongue, he misses the sweet taste of Evan, of his perfected coffee, of him. “Come on!”

Eddie curses again. Tommy stops moving his toes, his body tenses. Bobby turns towards his clumsy firefighter - sure that it’s nerves and worry that has him failing a task he had to have done a million and one times before. It’s taking too long.

Tommy’s boots thud on the unsteady ground below before calls of his name can start from above. He stumbles from the sudden movement, balancing himself with a hand on the car. 

He begs to whoever hears that the last time he saw Evan wasn’t the last time, that he will see him smile again, that he will hear his voice again, even if it isn’t for him. Even if it isn’t Tommy making him smile, talking to him, he just wants Evan to be okay.

Tommy falters before he takes hold of Evan’s hand, his fingers trembling before he wraps it tightly on his. “Please!” He resists the temptation to kiss the hand in his, sucks in a deep breath instead before he turns towards the inside of the truck.

The breath he was taking gets stuck on his throat. Half of Evan’s face is covered in blood from a gash at his hairline. A vision straight from one of his nightmares. His other arm is bent at a strange angle and there are cuts all over his exposed flesh, a large one running down his bicep. 

“Tommy?” Bobby’s voice crackles on his radio and the one in Evan’s car, the terrified tone in his voice clear and duplicated.

Tommy’s hand trembles when he reaches for Evan’s neck, fingers pressing on his pulse point. A relieved breath almost causes his knees to buckle.

“He’s got a pulse,” He swears he feels the collective relief of the 118. “Uh, several cuts and bruises, head injury and uh, probably dislocated shoulder.”

“I’ll prepare the extraction team, see if you can get him to wake up.”

“Evan,” Tommy lets the desperation take over, reaches inside the car to unbuckle the seatbelt before he cups Evan’s cheek. “Evan!” 

His skin feels sweaty from the heat of the explosions, feels hot. He never thought he would be able to touch Evan again, much less like this. His thumb rubs over his bottom lip, hoping it would cause his mouth to open like it had before, like it always did. It doesn’t now.

Tommy feels a tear running down his cheek. All this time drinking crappy coffee when he could have been having coffee in Evan’s kitchen. In Tommy’s kitchen when they would’ve found a space on his counter for the fancy coffee machine. He could be having cinnamon-flavoured kisses against their kitchen counter if he hadn’t let his fears speak louder than his desires.

“Please,” His voice comes out as barely a whisper and he hears the mechanism for the winch above them. “Come back to me.” 

Eddie’s hand on his shoulder carefully pulls him away from the car, his eyes understanding, frightened, pleading, making Tommy take several steps back. Evan’s fingers on his twitch and just as he can no longer hold his hand, Evan’s eyes flutter open. 

Tommy’s knees buckle and he grabs hold of the car as Eddie forces the door open with the jaws. The sound drowns out Evan’s pained groans, each of them breaking Tommy’s heart bit by bit. The two of them get Evan situated on the board and Tommy has to look away. He feels a different hand on his shoulder. Howie. 

Wordlessly, his old friend helps to pull him out of the hole his ex-boyfriend almost died in. A shout of pain rings loudly in his ears when Hen feels for Evan’s shoulder. 

Evan passes out from the pain, Hen and Howie rushing to the ambulance after that. He feels unmoored, the car doors snapping the ropes holding him to shore. Tommy feels Bobby’s strong hand on his shoulder and he allows him to guide him back to shore.

“Let’s go, kid.”

Everything else after that is a haze of sirens, of a blurry LA through the engine windows. He feels Bobby’s stare from where he’s sitting on the back of the truck, next to a silent Eddie. He shouldn’t be there, he’s not part of the 118 anymore. 

He doesn’t move.

He crosses the glass doors side by side with Bobby and Eddie, following Evan’s stretcher. 

This time there isn’t an enthusiastic kiss greeting him on the other side. This time there isn’t a strong hand on his leading him to an impromptu wedding.

This time there’s hard waiting room chairs, there’s blood on his hands, there’s silence. 

He sits with the rest of the 118. 

He waits to hear if he’ll be having crappy fire station coffee for the rest of his life. Tommy would happily drink all crappy fire station coffee so long as Evan makes it through this. So long as Evan is able to make the cinnamon-flavoured coffee Tommy loves, even if it’s for someone else.

---

He has a concussion, a dislocated shoulder and fractured rib but Evan is awake.

Tommy keeps his eyes on the doctor informing Bobby and the rest of the team. Lets out a breath of relief along with the others, before he lets doubt, unease settle in.

He feels Bobby glance at him with thinned lips, almost pleading but Tommy doesn’t catch his eye. He has no rights, not the way Bobby does.

Eddie follows Bobby and the doctor to Evan’s room.

Tommy doesn’t move, he hasn’t moved since they got there. He can’t.

Hen and Howie glance at him, barely audible whispers between them, he can feel it. 

His hands still have Evan’s blood on them. It’s dried by now, it’s become part of his skin. He wants to keep it there, he wants to never see it again. He stands up abruptly, the whispers quiet and he feels their eyes on him as he walks away. 

Tommy should leave, should go back home, back to the station - he hadn’t talked to his Captain. He shouldn’t be there. Evan had his family with him. Tommy wasn’t family, he was an ex, he was nothing. And yet, standing in front of the automatic glass doors, he couldn’t take that step. 

His eyes struggle to adjust to the harsh lighting of the hospital bathroom as he makes his way to the sink. He doesn’t look up as he turns the tap, sure that his hair is a mess, he feels sweaty and he has seen them enough times to know there are bruises under his eyes from his sleepless nights. He takes a deep breath and places his hands under the warm water.

The water runs red as Tommy cleans all of Evan’s blood from his hands, a slow movement, hypnotising really. All it does is remind him of Evan’s face hidden by a stream of blood, his fingers barely moving dripping blood, the sounds of his pain. 

He’s alive, he reminds himself. In a room, a few feet from where he stands, Evan is awake and around family. And yet, all Tommy can see is blood. Evan was so restless, to see him so still, to see him so quiet, cries of pain where he usually heard laughter.

Evan is alive and yet Tommy tastes the bitter taste in his tongue, tastes the heartbreak he caused, tastes the pain he deserves, not Evan, never Evan.

His hands clench around the sides of the sink and that’s when Tommy feels how unstable his legs are, when he feels the tears falling onto the sink, when he hears the sobs shaking his body.

The sound of rushing water stops and someone removes his hands from their tight grip on the sink before they pull him towards a warm embrace. There’s a hand behind his head and another at his back. Tommy knows the embrace, it isn’t familiar, they’ve never hugged like this before - it doesn’t stop him from unleashing his fear against the man’s neck -, but he knows it.

Bobby doesn’t try to quiet him, simply keeps a tight hold on him, one hand running up and down Tommy’s spine, the other massaging the back of his neck.

“He’s been at the hospital so many times,” Bobby says when Tommy’s sobs quiet down, when his breathing is finally under control. “That I forget you haven’t been through this before.”

“I don’t think I want to again,” Tommy’s voice is rough and he clears his throat as he slowly disengages from the hug. “Seeing him like that, I-I thought he was dead, I-”

“Yeah,” Bobby nods and in his eyes, Tommy sees understanding, sees a person who saw exactly what Tommy did. Who’s probably had to see it a few times before. “But he’s a fighter.”

Tommy nods, wiping his tears. He knew Evan was a fighter, he reminded himself of that as he waited for news in the waiting room. It didn’t stop him from imagining the worst case scenario.

“I thought you left,” Bobby says after a moment, head tilting to catch Tommy’s gaze but he refuses, looking towards the bathroom corner instead. “Hen and Chim said you got up and left.”

“I almost did.”

Bobby nods as if he knows, as if he really knows. “It would’ve been easier if you had.”

“He doesn’t need me here, he doesn’t want me here,” Tommy says and hates how small his voice sounds, hates that he deserves to feel this way, hates that it’s true. “He has all of you and I’m n-”

“He asked about you,” Bobby interrupts him and Tommy inhales sharply. “He said he heard you calling for him, asked where you were.”

Tommy tries to find the lie in Bobby’s eyes. He doesn’t, never thought the man would lie about something like this. Tommy shakes his head, his heart pounding in his chest, refusing the truth, desperately holding onto the lie. “No, no, h-he-”

Bobby’s hand finds the side of his face, forcing Tommy to look at him. He sees the fear reflected in the older man’s face, knows that seeing Evan like that was just as hard for him as it was for Tommy. 

“He’s been asking for you, Tommy,” Bobby repeats, forcing him to believe the words. “You have a decision to make now. You can either go through those glass doors and I’ll tell Buck that he imagined hearing you,” The tone and frown on his former Captain’s face tells him exactly what he thinks about that plan. “Or you go into that room and you explain yourself, you make it right because Buck hasn’t been himself since you two broke up.”

“Neither have I.” Tommy confesses, a barely there whisper. 

“So,” Bobby takes a step back, looks at him with subtle scrutiny. “What’s your choice?”

Tommy could leave. He could go out those doors and out of Evan’s life for good. 

He had done it before, hadn't he? He had left Evan in his loft, a pained expression on his face. He had ignored how each step away from Evan ached and burned him from the inside. He had done it to free Evan, to let him explore the world, to let him find something, someone, better than Tommy. Because Evan was sunshine and, at best, Tommy was a cloudy day.

And yet, as he thought of the last two months, of the pain, the heartache, the sleepless nights, the crappy coffee, he knew. Tommy couldn’t handle another lifetime of what he only had a taste of. He couldn’t handle a lifetime of pain, of heartache, of sleepless nights, of crappy coffee. Not when he finally tasted the sweetness of cinnamon-flavoured coffee, of warm nights with Evan’s weight on top of him, of a chest full of love, of sunshine. 

He loved him. He loves him still. 

And maybe Evan wouldn’t take him back, that would have to be okay. Because, Tommy knew, Evan was one of a kind, he was everything, and he’d rather have him in his life just a little than nothing at all.

---

Tommy hears the beeping of the Holter monitor before he walks through the open door. Evan is sitting up in the hospital bed, bandages covering one side of his forehead almost covering left eye, birthmark hidden. His arm is in a sling and he can see the bulk of bandages wrapped around his torso under the hospital gown. 

Once he notices Tommy’s silent presence, his bright blue eyes land on him and Tommy feels like he can breathe again and like there is no oxygen in the room. What a ridiculous notion.

“I thought I had imagined it,” Evan confesses, his tone unreadable and that was unnatural - he was usually so expressive. “I thought Bobby was about to come in and tell me that I imagined your voice after the face he pulled.”

“Y-You were caught in a gas line explosion,” Tommy clears his voice, hates how professional his voice sounds, impersonal, he never spoke to Evan this way. “I was already at the scene, you got crushed under a van after the ground caved under your car.”

Evan nods, his eyes never leaving Tommy. He feels exposed to the intense gaze of the younger man, he wants to hide, wants him to see it all, see the things Tommy can’t say.

“Eddie told me you were the one to know I was under there.”

Evan knows. Tommy is sure Evan knows exactly what happened, knows what went through his brain during the whole thing but he wants Tommy to say it. It’s almost cruel, it’s actually genius.

“I saw your bumper sticker,” Tommy explains and Evan smiles, that soft smile he would have when Tommy made him breakfast in bed, when Tommy would kiss his birthmark. He can’t kiss his birthmark now. 

“I felt it,” Tommy confesses and Evan stills. He can be brave. “I was at the scene and I saw the Jeep and I-I felt something was wrong. The ground caved in and I felt it,” Tommy takes a deep breath and he really thought he didn’t have any more tears. “When the 118 appeared and you weren’t there, I knew.”

“Eddie said you jumped in without a harness,” Evan admits and Tommy wonders how Bobby would have ever been able to hide Tommy’s presence when Eddie had already made it impossible. “Y-you shouldn’t have done that.”

Tommy takes a few steps towards the bed, standing at the foot of it, right next to Evan’s left foot. “I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I wanted to,” He felt ripped open. He knew that if he wanted to stop the pain, he would have to fight for this, for them. 

“And I didn’t want to. If I could, I would have swapped places with you in the blink of an eye. Bu-Evan,” And god, it felt right to call him that to his face again. Evan seemed to think so too. “I love you.” It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, and it could end up badly but he had said it. He had finally said the words that for the last four months of their relationship had been begging and fighting to get out even if it was way too soon then.

The Holter monitor beeps faster at Tommy’s confession and Evan sighs in annoyance. He wants to laugh, wants to tease Evan for not being able to hide the way his heart reacts to his confession but he can’t, it’s too important to rely on the beeps of a machine.

“I have been having shit coffee for the past two months.”

Tommy lets out a startled laugh at Evan’s confession, even as his heart tightens in anxiety. He scratches the back of his neck as he nods. “So have I.”

“Tommy,” Evan calls and he looks up at the man he loves. His eyes are wide and he looks overwhelmed and Tommy is regretting his confession - not what he said, just the timing. “I-I thought I had to be this perfect person to be with you, to be as perfect as you-”

Tommy shakes his head, trying to push away the memory of the conversation they had in the loft. “Evan, I-”

“No, please, let me,” Evan interrupts and Tommy takes a deep steadying breath before he nods. He prepares himself. “I thought I had to be perfect but you never saw me as perfect and I think finding out about Abby made me realise how you aren’t perfect either.”

Tommy crosses his arms, holds himself together.

“But you never actually tried to be perfect for me either,” Evan continues and groans in frustration. “I don’t know if I’m making sense and I really don’t want to say the wrong thing again,” Tommy raises his eyebrow and Evan lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Tommy, I told you I admired you.”

Tommy mirrors his laugh, remembering how that word felt like a stab to the gut. “Yeah, that was…yeah.”

“When what I should have told you was that I can see a future with you,” Evan explains and Tommy turns sharply to him, to his soft smile and bright eyes. “That your happiness is just as important to me as mine, that your concerns are my concerns, that I think about you when you’re not around.”

Tommy’s vision blurs and he blinks his eyes to clear them. “Evan-”

“Josh asked me if I loved you the day we…talked,” Evan continues and his hand twitches. 

Tommy can still remember the blood dripping from his fingertips and holds his hand to try and stop those visions. Evan smiles and grips his hand back and that brings back memories of their hands clasped together as they walked, as they slept, as they relaxed. It slowly extinguishes the bad memories.

“He did?”

Evan nods and his thumb rubs over Tommy’s knuckles. God, it feels good.

“I freaked out when he asked,” He lets out that guilty laugh again and Tommy frowns. “And I just realised that all the things he asked me instead just spelled out how down bad I was for you,” Their eyes meet and Tommy takes in the soft, happy smile on Evan’s face. “How in love with you I am.”

Tommy tries to keep his trembling to a minimum as his free hand cups Evan’s cheek. He rubs his thumb slowly, a barely-there movement, on his cheek and it catches on Evan’s bottom lip. His lips part and Tommy’s hold on Evan’s face tightens. He forces himself to take a deep breath, to hold back.

“Evan, I don’t need you to be perfect, I just need you to be you, that’s who I fell for,” Tommy says and watches as Evan’s eyes shine with unshed tears, he nods.

“I never wanted you to be perfect, Tommy, I just wanted the man who made fake mouth static at the fire chief,” Evan grins and Tommy lets out a watery laugh. “The man who watched me maim my best friend and still decided to kiss me, the man who made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.” 

Tommy was done holding back, he would break apart if he held back another minute longer. He steps closer to the bed and watches as Evan’s eyes spark as he tips his head up, expecting the kiss and Tommy grins.

“I love you so much.” Tommy whispers, face inches from Evan’s.

They still have a lot to talk about. A past to share, expectations, desires, boundaries, all of that. And they will. They will talk and come out stronger than ever. They will talk over perfect coffee and share cinnamon-flavoured kisses when they’re done. 

They will never have crappy coffee again.

“I love you too.” Evan whispers back.

And maybe cinnamon-flavoured aren’t as sweet as love-declaration kisses but who says they can’t have both?

[layover-linux-official]

It's been awhile since the last time I really looked into it, but a few months ago I was trying to find a really light container runtime as a library (to use for a build sandbox system), something small I could ship baked into Layover. I have a new appreciation for what containers do, why they're fast, and why they're not trivial to secure when you're building them from the ground up.

See, the kernel has no feature called "containers", even though you've heard that only Linux can do them. What's actually going on, is that containers are really more of a usage pattern of a few other Linux-specific features. It's like someone noticed that the kernel has syscalls for flour and eggs and vanilla extract and realized "oh yeah, you could make a cake out of this!"

So you use Linux namespaces and cgroups to do a bunch of things:

Give the process isolated networking

Give it a different hostname (this I particularly remember is namespaces)

Give the process a cloned view of the filesystem

Make the tweaks you need in the clone. Usually you create a new temp directory and mount a bunch of stuff read-only or as layer filesystems, which means the layers need to be unpacked on disk somewhere.

chroot into the temp directory

Maybe limit system calls

And a container engine will also do its own bookkeeping to track running containers. But basically if you happen to use these features in these ways, we call that a container, you're using the container pattern.

In practice, this has been useful enough that we now have standard interchangeable formats like OCI that codify how to configure a container and the files it needs. Of particular note here is that most of these formats think of files in terms of layers, because that was a useful feature introduced by Docker and now there's quality of life and compatibility reasons to think in layers for every major container engine, but they're technically optional. There's no kernel API for containers that dictates using layers, and a lightweight runtime like I was looking for probably WOULDN'T have that feature!

And that brings up an interesting point. If you were building a container runtime from scratch, the easiest place to start would be running a clone of the current host system, which basically amounts to just running exec, and incrementally adding isolation and filesystem cloning+mangling features, until you've got enough isolation to count as a container. Then, depending on your priorities, you might go for optional features that give you ecosystem compatibility. But the reason it's challenging to secure is that you're starting from a bare exec and then adding isolation, trying to catch all the leaks. The major engines have enough attention and funding for some impressive hardening, but it's a fundamentally difficult problem to start from "just another process running on the same kernel" and subtract off all the escape hatches. VM software tends to be easier to secure (though not necessarily easier to write in total) because it starts from a clean isolated slate, and you "just" have to not accidentally break that safety later as you add features like GPU passthrough.

This isn't the deepest dive into how Docker works, and it's already pretty long, because I just woke up and I'm not awake enough to edit. But I think it's a decent navigational introduction for anyone already familiar with Docker and unfamiliar with container implementation, which is probably a lot of people these days.

tanked a job interview because i couldn't really explain what goes on with @docker-official lmao

there's only so far you can get with bullshitting

[widowshill]

— And do you or do you not have difficulty remembering such simple instructions? — Only during thunderstorms, sir.

THE SOUND OF MUSIC (1965) / DARK SHADOWS (1966)

[ghostzzy]

every day i post about how i don't want to work. well. today,

[cryolyst]

~

[bibleofficial]

i’ve been using those toe spacers for my tailors bunions & it’s like damn …. yall rly just walk like this ??

[medicinemane]

.

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[guinevereslancelot]

why do i feel weirdly guilty for taking a day off of work to have necessary surgery 🤡

[crossbackpoke-check]

nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!

I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:

don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.

most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).

silly little snippet:

[arolesbianism]

I'm starting to see ppl talk abt updating their artfight pages and at first I was like what why it's still months away and then it hit me that by months it was two months and now I'm just silently sweating as my anual side project to remake the eternal gales refs and give them all icons comes back to haunt me

[joestarfucker420]

going from being ashton all week to being my legal name again is honestly one of the worst feelings in the world

[avatar-of-the-web]

the way my glasses get and stay dirty no matter what and i specifically am phyuscially incapable of successfully cleaning them im rly contemplating just being blind again but i seriously can't read fuck damn nor shit like the letters im typing rn don't even look like letters on my string it coulkd be this IWOJNLK2io14809q?>#$><!@#<$>. like it looks the same

[myothertardisisonthemun]

Merffet's Polar Cube reassembly

Meet my new blorbo, The Cube

A fidget/puzzle that was on my Christmas list since I couldn't stop playing with the ones at the shops, I took it around with me for like a week.

It's like a rubix cube, but you've got to make the colours alternate.

Sadly, it has been giving me some trouble.

It kept jamming up, despite my attempts to lubricate it, or adjust it using the hidden screws. So I took the plunge and took it apart.

Loosen the top screw enough, and soon the cube was no more.

I couldn't find any guides to this cube online, so I'm making this all up as I go. I carefully noted which parts where where as I pulled it to bits.

These are the parts I found inside:

Corner

Center

Edge

Core attachment link

Inner track bracket

Outer track bracket

Center piece frame

Seeing the cube completely in pieces, after many earlier attempts to fix it, almost makes you want to throw everything out, buy a new cube, and pretend nothing happened.

But I persisted.

I needed to find a place to start. Eventually I managed to wiggle two inner and one outer bracket between two parts of the core.

You can also see the little mark which the core attachment point must line up with.

To get the rest in, I had to turn the core plate just slightly. It helps to accept that these parts are intended to slide past each other, and a little unevenness won't cause everything to instantly come undone.

The little gaps in the side seem to be there so you can squeeze the two brackets tight enough that they slip into the gap where eventually, they will sit tight.

Now I have something firmly attached to the core, and that is enough to really get going.

Doing the first layer of ball segments was just a matter of placing them in the right order and orientation:

I also added the brackets.

(I did do the layer below as well, but that fell off later, so we shall ignore that for now)

Now the top layer, just got to add the inner brackets and center link,

Then i have to wiggle on the center pieces. The screw needs to be loose enough that can sort of hook them under the plate.

I've left a gap, because the last edge segment and corners need to be jammed in there somehow...

And that's one side done!

Now for the other, which should be much the same

First layer,

Top layer, this time you can see the brackets, ready for me to slip the central link in,

I use a poking tool (awl) to reposition these, when the center pieces go in it helps to be able to slide them to the side so there's more gap to slide the pieces in.

This time I did the last center pieces last, and put the edge in first.

Just got to wiggle in the last pieces, and,

I am done. I also have the puzzle solved, because I needed to make sure it would still be solvable. It's still a little stiff in parts, but now everything is moving again.

I still haven't solved it the normal way.

[orcelito]

Really is a coping kinda night huh lmao