#and calls Tommy on the radio like HES OKAY I HAVE HIM

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

no specific chapter tags

read below or on ao3

Day 11: 2024

They didn't work on calls together often. Or, at all, really. But today was an exception. Today, Tommy was on the ground and the fire required help from five different stations. It took hours to get it under control, and then they were getting everything cleaned up. Tommy was pretty sure he could get back to Harbor without ever seeing Buck.

However, as that thought crossed his mind, and because the universe had it out for him, he was suddenly face to face with Buck, who was staring at him with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"H- Hi, To-"

“I started going to therapy,” Tommy blurted.

Buck cocked his head to the side. “Y- You did? When?”

“I made an appointment two days after we,” he paused, took a breath, “after I broke up with you.”

“Oh, that's... that's good, Tommy. I mean, I- I guess that's good. That's good, right?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, it's good.”

“Well, then. Good.”

There was a few seconds of awkward silence.

Until.

“I've been wanting to text you since we broke up.” Seemed like it was Buck's turn to blurt something out.

“I've been wanting to text you too.”

“Yeah, the bubbles.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “The bubbles?”

Buck shook his head. “Nothing. It's... nothing. I just feel like we left a lot of things unsaid. Most things were left unsaid, actually. I'd like to change that. I'd like to try to change that.”

Tommy pursed his lips, trying to maintain his composure. It was getting more difficult by the second though, so he let go. “Buck, I'm a disaster,” he admitted, shoulders slumping. “I mean a huge, giant, massive disaster. There's been- There's so much that I...” his voice trailed off as he tried to find the right words. “It's years, and years, and years of traumas that built up, and I just kinda pushed them away and built a wall between me and all of that so that I could appear to be...”

“Comfortable?” Buck suggested.

Tommy smiled sadly. “Yeah.”

“I get that,” Buck replied. “It wasn't like I was really my best self either. I- I think I never let myself see past your wall. I knew there had to be more there, and I ignored it because you seemed so confident all the time and I kind of, maybe, took advantage of that.”

“No,” Tommy disagreed, stepping closer to Buck. “I never let you see beyond the wall, because the second it tore down I knew that it would just be this huge mess pouring out all over you and you don't deserve that, Buck. You deserve someone who actually has it together.”

“Tommy, what makes you think I have it together? I don't know what I'm doing. I think that's pretty obvious from the last time we spoke. I kinda made a fool out of myself.”

“Buck, it wasn't you,” Tommy tried to explain. “I decided from the start that I'd let you set the pace, and that was my mistake. I didn't realize your pace would feel like warp speed to me, and I would spend every day just trying to catch up. That's not fair to either of us.”

“Well i- it's not your fault that I'm so impulsive that I jumped over at least three steps when I asked you to move in with me and I just expected you to jump too. That wasn't fair either.”

Tommy took a deep breath, smiling slightly. “Sounds like I'm not the only one who's been going to therapy."

Buck laughed, rolling his eyes. “Every Tuesday, 4pm.”

“I'm Thursday's at five.”

Buck opened his mouth to speak when a voice came over the radio. “Leaving in five, Buck,” Bobby said. “Gotta head back.”

“Be there in a minute, Boss,” Buck replied.

He looked back up at Tommy. “I'd really, uh, like to talk to you, Tommy. Wh- When we're not in the middle of a shift. I'd, um, I'd like to get to know you. All of you.”

Tommy felt vulnerable. Exposed in a way he hadn't ever let himself feel before, and he and Buck hadn't even really said much. “I'm still trying to get to know myself."

“That's okay. I realized a few years back that that never really stops. I'd still like to talk. I think we both need that.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Yeah, I'd like to get to know you too. All of you.”

“Okay. Good, um, j- just text me, okay? Whenever. I'll... I'll be here.”

“I will,” Tommy assured him, then added with a smirk. “I won't just bubble you.”

Buck smiled. “Ah, so you did know what I was saying?”

“Of course. I saw your bubbles too.”

Then Buck was clearing the rest of the space between them, wrapping his arms around Tommy in a hug. “Merry Christmas, Tommy,” he whispered, face practically buried in Tommy's neck.

Once Tommy's brain caught up to what was happening, he returned the hug, holding Buck tight.

“Merry Christmas, Evan.”

[dontperceivemeplsandthnx]

WHAT IF -

Buck’s apartment catches fire next week cuz of the Halloween decorations and the 217 is called out to the scene and THATS why there was a 217 truck in ep 3 - cuz Tim was getting ready for a scene where Tommy thinks Buck is in danger and goes in after him (whether or not he’s right and Buck is there is a different question I just want Tommy being afraid for Buck)

[kkcauseway]

Forever and Always

Joel Miller x F!reader.

Summary I Your work life is awful and there's nothing you want more after an exhausting day both mentally and physically than to come home to Joel, but on calling him and finding out that's not possible you're dreading the thought of going home to be alone. However, it doesn't seem that that's the case once you actually make it back, and it turns into once of the best and happiest nights of your life. Content/warnings I So much cute fluff, Joel Miller being the most doting and caring boyfriend. 'babygirl', Joel has a cute little saying to let reader know just how much he loves her. Asking to move in together. No use of y/n, no outbreak. A/N I Once again another random idea that popped into my head that I decided to run with. I really hope you enjoy soppy, cute Joel taking care of his woman!

Main masterlist

It always puts a smile on his face when you call. Your name working wonders for the grumpy moods he finds himself in on jobs. Even with the jokes he cracks with Tommy. Nothing compares to when he’s with you, talking to you. Just doing anything that involves you. “Hey baby you, okay?” His husky voice grumbles down the receiver once he’s removed himself away from the bustle of the house, he’s currently working in.

“Joel?” You sniff.

His smile falters. Something is obviously wrong, and whatever’s happened he’ll kill them. No one upsets you. “Babe? Hey, hey what’s wrong?”

“I- sniff- I’m just having such a horrible day. I can’t stand this job anyone, I wana quit so bad. Please can you come over when I finish?” The sobs grow in volume as you force a hand to your mouth to try to quiet them. The impact of hearing those words leave your own mouth proving to you just how much you rely on him.

“Oh baby m’so sorry you’re having a shitty day. Listen we’re on a bad job today m’not gonna finish till super late so I most likely can’t come round. But I’ll call you later okay y’can tell me all about it okay baby. Promise.”

“Okay” you sniff upset he can’t come but you knew he was busy and that it was a long shot. You pine after him when you feel vulnerable like this.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” He grumbles evidently worried he’s in the doghouse.

“I know. I love you too so much.”

“Forever and always baby girl.”

The words making your heart flutter as they always do.

When the call cuts you hold your phone against your chest and sob a little more before psyching yourself up for your afternoon. Your colleagues don’t deserve to know just how bad they make you feel, they’d probably thrive on it if they knew.

So, instead you sort yourself out wash your face, wait till your eyes are less puffy, paint on your smile and go about the remainder of your shift thank fuck it’s Friday.

Of course no one notices, why would they when they make it clear how much they can’t stand you being around.

-

Finally five o’clock arrives and you rush out to your car as quick as you can. Putting on the cheesy cd playlist Joel made you. You love that he’s like that, so unbelievably cheesy, so old fashioned it’s why you adore him the way you do. When yours and Joel’s song comes on tears escape you again. God you’ve never loved someone the way you love him, but these tears you’re spilling are tears of happiness not pain.

When you make it home your shitty mood overcomes you again, the thought of your empty apartment and cold bed. So you settle on the idea of a large glass of red wine, a crappy comfort series and a good cry before you go to sleep. You’re have a day trip with Joel planned tomorrow and that’s enough to keep you going.

However, it’s like you can tell something’s off from the second your key is in the door. After momentarily hesitating you uneasily open your door and those thoughts are made true. Your apartment isn’t dark, cold, nor is it empty. The smell of food hits you so mouth-wateringly beautiful, and the radio is playing softly.

You kick off your shoes and move to the kitchen and there he is, Joel in all his glory slaving away over the stove. Dancing along to the music with an apron round his neck.

He turns to look at you with a smile on his face and it breaks you.

You stand on the spot throw your bag to the floor from your shoulder and cry. But he quickly rushes over “hey shhh it’s okay.” He cradles you close a hand on the back of your head pushing you closer to his chest. Allowing you to inhale his comforting scent.

“S’okay m’here baby.” He mumbles against your hair as he rests his lips against you. Holding you as close as possible.

After a few minutes you pull away red faced and puffy eyes to look up at him. “How did you get here I thought you were busy?”

“M’sorry baby, I know I didn’t think I’d be able to. And I’m so sorry that that made you upset, I really am, but as much as I am super busy at work the second, I heard you cryin’ I knew I needed to make sure I was finishin’ early so I could come over and see you, you mean more to me than any job, any amount of money. So I took a sick day for the remainder.”

“Thankyou” you whisper before moving to grasp at his stubbly cheeks. You smile sadly at him as your thumbs stroke him and then you move your lips to his, kissing him softly.

“I’ve made your favourite baby” he begins once you pull back away. Arms resting round his neck as you stand on your tip toes to be exactly in his eye-line. “And then I want you t’tell me all about this shitty day o’yours so we can get it outa your pretty head. You’re too beautiful to be burdened by that shit.”

You chuckle “I’d really like that, thank you so much for being here.”

“Always baby. Always.”

-

After a long moan fest over Joel’s signature spaghetti and meatballs, you’re cuddling on the couch with your long-awaited red wine.

Your difficult day long forgotten about which is why you love being around him so much, he really does make everything better. Just by being himself- so unapologetically himself.

You’re cuddled into him your feet kicked up behind you as he strokes your side. His calloused fingertips gliding lightly from your hip all the way up to the side of your breast, over and over causing constant goosebumps.

“You know v’been thinkin’” he mumbles softly into the silence.

“Shit did it hurt?” You chuckle as you jest with him, you love when you get the perfect opportunity to use that joke.

He pokes at your side in retaliation, and you giggle into it, loving every second of being with him.

“Seriously now though babygirl, sit up n’look at me.” 

Which you do without a moment’s hesitation. You pull away from him so you can face him sat on your knees.

God he’s gorgeous. His beautiful salt and pepper hair slightly longer than he would like but with you adoring him just like that he refuses to cut it.

He takes your hands in his and god it makes you nervous. Butterflies swim around in your stomach as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“I realised somethin’ today.”

Your breathing increases as you reply “what?”

He takes a nervous breath closing his eyes on the inhale and opening them back up to stare right back at you on the exhale. His perfectly pert lips opening just slightly to let the air out. He clears his throat as he shifts slightly in the seat. “Y’belong with me, all the time, all day every day, and it breaks my heart t’think that you could need me and we ain’t together.”

You smile softly at him, you know your rightful place is with him 24/7, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

But the next words to leave him are so far from what you expected it’s as though time stands still. “Move in w’me.”

“What?” You’re excited from the moment the words leave his lips, but you’re certain you misheard.

“I want you t’move in with me, get out of this lil apartment. Come make my house ours, let’s always be together. No more late nights alone let’s always be there together even if my stupid fuckin’ job means I get in at 2am.”

You squeal throwing your arms around his neck as you practically pounce on him. “Oh my god yes, yes, yes when?”

He chuckles pushing you back slightly so he’s able to look at you once more. “Well I mean we could start moving ya stuff in tomorrow, I know we said we’d go out for the day but-”

“No!” You say it all too quickly and he laughs “I wana move in let’s do that fuck the plans! We can do that any day!” You forcefully hug him again. Pulling away he’s beaming at you “do you promise you mean it?”

“With all my heart baby.” The hand he has resting on your back moves up and down slowly. So soothing, so full of love.

You scream in excitement before kissing him.

When you eventually pull away you look directly into his hooded eyes. “Forever and always?”

“Forever and always babygirl” and he rubs his nose against yours.

[userautumn]

Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.

You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.

I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?

Anyway.

Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.

Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.

Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.

Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:

"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"

"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"

"Okay."

Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Normally, Tommy wouldn't have even been there to see it happen. Evan would have brushed it off as nothing, and Tommy might have even believed him. But Tommy had worked an extra shift, which had maxed out his flight hours for the week, so for this shift, he was on ground support.

It felt like it happened in slow motion.

He stepped out of the engine and saw that the 118 was already on scene. His heart soared when he saw Evan, but the joy was short-lived when he watched a man that Evan was talking to pull back and punch him.

Tommy's blood boiled, instincts taking over as he rushed the man, ready to kill him. But strong arms held him back.

"Tommy, stop man, it's not worth it. Seriously, chill out," Eddie said, struggling to maintain his grip.

Tommy growled, "I'm gonna kill this mother fu-"

"Kinard!" Captain Morris's voice cut through his rage. "Back on the engine before I suspend your ass."

Tommy barely heard him.

"Tommy, Hen's got him. And look, Athena already has the guy in cuffs, it's okay," Eddie said. But Tommy was still seeing red.

"Tommy, you gotta calm down."

"Eddie, he hit him. He hit my- he hit Evan," Tommy's voice broke.

"I know, I know, but Buck jumped into it. The guy was screaming in his girlfriend's face, and she had bruises. You know how Buck is with DV stuff because of Maddie."

Tommy took a deep breath. That sounded like Evan.

"Tommy, I don't know all the details, but I know enough to know that you don't want to be like your dad. And if you do something rash out of anger, you won't feel any better," Eddie said quietly.

Eddie was right. Tommy knew he was right.

"Okay, okay, I'm cool. I just need to see him."

"Well, it looks like Bobby's talking to your captain," Eddie said, cautiously loosening his grip. "You're sure you'll be cool if I let you go?"

"I just need to check on him."

Eddie nodded and let him go.

"Baby," Tommy said softly when he reached Evan. "Oh, sweetheart." His hand hovered over Evan's face, taking in the puffy, bruised skin and the sagging cheek.

"Broken cheekbone," Hen said, her voice professional but gentle. "We're taking him to First Presbyterian. You riding with us?"

Tommy nodded, not taking his eyes off Evan.

Hen radioed to Bobby, who confirmed he'd let Tommy's captain know.

"I'll be right back, baby," Tommy said, pressing a gentle kiss to Evan's birthmark.

As Evan was loaded into the ambulance, Tommy strode over to Athena's cruiser.

"Tommy, be smart. I don't want to have to bring you down to the station too," Athena said, her voice firm but understanding.

"Just give me a second. Please, Athena?"

"Sixty seconds, Kinard," she said, opening the door to the cruiser.

Tommy stared the man straight in the eye. "You made a big mistake. You hurt my boyfriend, and you hurt your girlfriend, and we are pressing charges, so enjoy jail, you stupid piece of-"

"And that's enough," Athena cut in, closing the cruiser door.

"You good now?" Athena asked, studying his face.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks," Tommy said, already turning toward the ambulance.

"Don't mention it," Athena called after him. "Now go be with your man."

Tommy climbed into the ambulance, immediately taking Evan's hand and pressing another soft kiss to his temple.

"You scared me, baby," Tommy whispered.

"'M sorry," Evan slurred through his swollen face. "Had to help her."

Tommy's heart clenched. Of course he did. That was his Evan - always rushing in to protect others, even at his own expense. As the ambulance started moving, Tommy squeezed Evan's hand gently.

"I know you did, sweetheart. I know you did."

[thatmexisaurusrex]

What if in the big first disaster mini-arc of season 8, Tommy's helicopter crashes close to where the 118 are. Gerrard decides that the helicopter, and everyone that is in it, is a lost cause and that they shouldn't be wasting resources or his team trying to help anyone out of the crash. What if the entire team mutinies to go find Tommy, his team, his helicopter, and the patients he was transporting?

What if the people in the helicopter crash are scattered - some in the helicopter, some flung out of it? What if Tommy was one of the people flung out of the helicopter; lost and out of range?

What if the 118 manages to find the helicopter, only to see that Tommy is missing? But they have to secure the scene, they have to call for back up, they have to make sure everyone still in the helicopter is okay. But maybe Hen takes over the scene and tells Chimney and Buck to keep searching the woods for other survivors.

And Buck feels guilty that he's relieved that Hen chose him to go sift through the woods of this mountain for other survivors, but there's really no time to think about that. There's no time at all.

Lives are on the line.

Tommy is out there.

And in the woods, Tommy is hurt. He's hurt, but he can hear someone calling for help. So, he moves despite knowing full well that might be bad for him. He moves because he's a first responder and will always try to help someone in need. And he finds one of his patients worse off than before. And he feels guilt that due to bad weather conditions and how the fire in the woods traveled (did I not say there was a fire? There's a fire and it's threatening to reach their side of the mountain at any moment), he lost control of the helicopter (and I would like to think there would be another twist too, like the 118 find something was already messed up with the helicopter to begin with, so it was a miracle that Tommy could even fly it at all).

But Tommy could do this.

He could save this one person.

So, Tommy's doing his best. He's working through his own pain as he puts a splint on this person's leg, as he pops this person's dislocated arm back in, as he makes the split decision to burn a cut closed because he doesn't have the supplies and that was the best he could do without the person bleeding out during a hike. And he makes a fucking board out of low branches he rips off trees. And, damn it, he knows his radio is basically busted, but he tries for help, only getting broken static back.

But he is going through.

He just can't hear the other end.

But his words are getting through the radio - they're reaching Buck. And Buck is desperately trying to answer back, he's trying to far longer than he should, he should have realized the first four tries that Tommy can't here him.

But he knows which direction Tommy is going. Because he and Tommy hiked up this mountain before. Buck knows which trail Tommy is trying to get to, so it's a race against time - will Buck and Chimney get to Tommy and the patient before the fire gets to them?

And the answer is that they get there just as the fire does. Nipping at Tommy's heels, but it ends up being stopped by a water drop just in time. Tommy is stunned when he sees Chimney and Evan, he's truly stunned.

He didn't think anyone heard him.

He didn't think they were going to be found in time.

And Buck calls it in, asks for backup, asks for help. Chimney checks on the person Tommy did first aid on.

And Tommy.

And Buck.

They run to each other.

They collapse into each other's arms. Exhausted and running on adrenaline alone. And they're checking if the other is okay - both are very worse for wear. And things seem okay as they wait for help to get to them. Things are going great for Hen too, she successfully saves everyone else in the helicopter crash with Eddie and Ravi's help.

But then.

A tree nearby is unstable.

Tommy sees it just in time.

And Tommy pushes Chimney out of the way, only to be caught under the tree.

And this is bad.

Back breaking bad.

Body crushing bad.

Buck tries not to panic, but it's clear this has shaken him. Chimney is doing his best and is calling for more help.

Help gets there, help finally gets there. And they manage to pull the tree off Tommy. Buck rides with Tommy to the hospital, holding his hand. He paces, distressed, as he waits for the longest surgery in his life.

And Tommy? Tommy should make it. But he's out, he's been put into a medically induced a coma as he heals. And at first, that's okay. Buck can be there. He can make sure Tommy's warm. He can hold Tommy's hand and read to him, and sleep in a rolled in bed.

Until that stops.

Mysteriously, he's not allowed into Tommy's room.

He's not allowed any information.

He's not Tommy's family.

And Tommy's parents are, somehow, technically still Tommy's next of kin - they're in charge of his medical treatment. They're in charge of who sees him.

Buck tries to explain who he is.

They reject the very idea of it.

And it's devastating. Buck didn't think about this. He didn't know this could happen. Tommy hadn't spoken to his parents in over twenty years, yet they're just allowed to come and do this to him.

Buck doesn't know what to do. He can't eat. He can't sleep. People have to force him to do anything for himself as he wonders how Tommy's parents are treating him.

Are they reading to him? Are they spending time with him? Are they making sure he's warm? Are they doing anything at all? Is this all for spite?

Somehow, other people are allowed to visit.

Just not Buck.

Buck is blacklisted.

Eddie is allowed; Christopher too. Chimney, somehow; probably because Tommy had saved his life. Maddie, even. Hen isn't, they can tell something is queer about Hen. Ravi isn't either. Bobby was allowed at first, before he made a case to the Kinards to let Buck see Tommy and it went south.

But definitely not Buck.

And Buck? Buck is camped out in the waiting room. The waiting room he kissed Tommy in. He basically has grown a short beard in that waiting room, he hasn't been shaving.

And all Buck can ask when he sees Eddie or Chimney or Maddie is - how is he doing? Is he doing okay? Is his favorite blanket still on him? What did you talk to him about? What did you read him? How did he look?

And the nurses - they know Buck. They've known him for years. And some take pity on him one night, and let him at least near the room when the parents are gone.

And the parents file for a restraining order against Buck, but it was worth it just to see Tommy.

Tommy looked better than last time.

That was good.

That was what mattered.

And a few more days go by like that with Buck in the waiting room, unable to leave.

Until Tommy wakes up.

He wakes up.

He asks his parents to leave.

He asks for Evan.

And a band of nurses and maybe Chimney rush over and tell Buck the news.

And Buck is running.

Sprinting.

To get to Tommy's room.

He knows where it is.

He memorized where the room was.

And he sees Tommy awake.

And part of him hadn't realized that he wasn't sure if Tommy would wake up. That some little, horrible part of him thought that Tommy would never wake up and he would never see Tommy again.

Tommy makes a joke about how Evan looks like a caveman.

Buck laughs. And cries. And sobs as he rushes frantically over to Tommy and collapses into a hug.

Tommy holds Buck as best as he can in his state while mumbling fondly that Evan smells like a caveman too. Buck offers to go, get cleaned up, but Tommy holds onto him.

Asks Evan to stay.

Apologizes for his parents, that he hadn't expected them to come. That he is going to change his will as soon as he can.

And he just wants Evan there.

With him.

And Buck stays.

[ made a fic based on this on AO3 in my Denial-Verse series ]

[morganaspendragonss]

he's the air i would kill to breathe

Of all the times TK has faced death before, never has he been so sure, so aware, that he is going to die. Even on the plane, there was a chance, but here, trapped in this room, there is no such luxury. No chance, no backup, no hope. ao3 | 1.2k | 5.03 spec

They’ve blocked the door with their turnouts as best they can, but it’s a temporary measure at best. Somewhere in this building, the gas is snaking its way towards them; they’ve shut themselves in the further corner possible, both in this room and in the school, but there’s no denying that it will find them and kill them.

And it will kill them.

Of all the times TK has faced death before, never has he been so sure, so aware, that he is going to die. Even on the plane, there was a chance, but here, trapped in this room, there is no such luxury. No chance, no backup, no hope.

It suddenly hits him, the enormity of it all. The fact that, in less than an hour, he’ll be a corpse just waiting to be found, and grief erupts in his chest, so fast that it almost knocks him back. And it’s not just grief for himself, but grief for his family, his friends. Carlos.

Above all, Carlos, who will have to endure losing his father and husband in less than a year.

He’ll never get to share another moment with him. There’ll never be another kiss, another embrace, another shared smile or a laugh. They’ll never get to celebrate their first anniversary, or any after that, or even just another night together. TK will die before any of that, and it’s not fair how it has to happen now, when he has so much in his life that he loves, instead of years ago when he didn’t care.

It’s not fucking fair.

Brushing away angry tears, TK looks to his left, and it’s something of a comfort to know that this time he won’t have to die alone. Tommy holds her radio close to her lips, murmuring to Wyatt as if anything louder will give away their location to the gas. Nancy is furiously stabbing at her phone, shaking fingers typing out what TK assumes are messages to her parents and sister and Mateo. Hopefully they’re all safe, far away from what’s happening in this room.

Almost imperceptibly, the room darkens a shade. The change is so slight that TK wants to believe he imagined it, but one look at Tommy and Nancy proves him wrong. They may not be able to see the gas yet, but none of them are under any delusion that they’re not running out of time.

His phone is out of his pocket before he even thinks about it, fingers automatically navigating to Carlos’s name. As the dial tone rings, a part of TK hopes it will go to voicemail. In the little time he has left, he wants to remember his husband smiling and happy, just like he was this morning when he brought them doughnuts on what they all thought was just another day.

The rest of TK, though, the more insistent part that lives in the left side of his chest, doesn’t want to die without talking to his husband one last time.

“TK, where are you?”

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry in relief, the sound that comes out ending up as a mixture of the two. “Hey,” he gasps. “Hi, baby, hi. Are you okay?”

“I’m at the office, we’re on lockdown because of the gas.” Carlos hurries through the explanation, urgent in a way TK doesn’t quite understand until he speaks again. “I saw the 126 on the news, I know you were working on the derailed train. Just… Please tell me you’re safe.”

The lie sits on the tip of TK’s tongue, but it refuses to be spoken. He struggles with it for a while, too long, and he can see them now, the tendrils of gas fogging up the window, and he’s going to die.

“TK,” Carlos calls, his desperation clear. “Are you safe?”

He can’t do it. Not now. Not to Carlos.

“No.”

An anguished cry tears its way from Carlos’s throat and the strength of it threatens to break TK altogether. His eyes start to overflow with tears and he has to fight to keep his sobs as quiet as possible.

“Where are you?” Carlos asks again. “I’ll come find you, I swear I will. I’ll get you somewhere safe, TK, just tell me where you are.”

TK shakes his head and a sad smile plays at his lips. His husband is nothing if not predictable. “We’re in some school. It’s a kids’ classroom, a pretty cute one really. There are worse places to die.”

“Nobody’s dying, TK, just tell me where you are.”

“Baby, I can’t.” he sighs are wishes more than anything that he could hold Carlos as he says this next bit. “We’re surrounded by the gas, no one could get to us without exposing themselves too. There’s no way out of this one, baby.”

“No,” his voice cracks. “Don’t say things like that. You’re gonna be fine.”

Fuck, it aches. “I’m not, baby. And I’m so, so sorry. I love you, okay? I love you.”

“TK, you’re not–”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts, and he’s almost surprised when he does fall silent. He smiles even though Carlos can’t see him and closes his eyes, picturing him by his side. “Can you just… Please, can you just say it back.”

A beat of silence, and in that beat, TK knows that Carlos understands the reality of the situation.

“I love you too.”

Still smiling, TK tilts his head back until it hits the wall. “There it is.” He breathes out once, then, “I love you.”

It’s goodbye, loud and clear, and even as he drags the phone away from his ear TK can hear Carlos begging him not to put the phone down. He does anyway, even though it breaks his heart, and he ignores the buzzing as Carlos tries to call him back again and again and again. To have his husband’s voice be the last thing he hears would be a gift, but one that would come with a curse too; it would mean that Carlos would have to listen as they cough and choke and die, and TK knows he wouldn’t even think to hang up.

As the last thing he does, he would spare his husband that.

There’s a brief silence in the room before Nancy gasps and TK opens his eyes to find her pointing tremulously at the door. 

“Guys.”

They’ve run out of time.

Tommy brings the radio to her mouth once more. “That gas is coming into this room,” she reports clinically. Then, firmer, more emotional, “Tell your dad to take good care of my girls.”

Wyatt is silent for a moment. “I will,” he says eventually.

Tommy nods. “Good.” She looks between the two of them and extends a gloved hand to either side. TK wastes no time in taking it, squeezing tight as they all silently sit there, waiting second after excruciating second for the gas to close the final few metres separating them.

“Close your eyes,” Tommy says, and TK does.

He won’t look death in the face, not this time. He’ll look at his husband instead, and TK Strand will die with a smile on his face.

[kinardsevan]

tidbit tuesday

my beloved @perfectlysunny02 tagged me this week, and I know, ITS AMAZING, but I'm actually getting writing done this week (we won't discuss the painting that isn't getting done b/c the prof sucks). Anyhoo, this is tentatively titled there's no life after you.

“Firefighter down about thirty feet on the cliffside,” Hen finally says. Her voice is so calm, that it’s almost eerie. Tommy would worry, but he knows that Evan was supposed to be paired up with her, so he’s likely just busy caring for one of the kids. “Unresponsive. Can’t reach him.”  He forces himself to take a breath and remind himself that whichever his friends has fallen, they’re going to be okay. They can get Eddie or Howie up off the cliff with minimal trouble, and they’ll get them to the hospital. Everything will be fine, they just need to do one step at a time.  “So medivac,” Lucy responds back. She glances at the various controls on the helicopter dash and then down at her watch before looking over at Tommy briefly. “We’re about twelve minutes out from a hospital in any direction.” She pauses for a moment, turning in her seat once again. “Firefighter Wilson, can you tell if there’s blood loss?”  “Affirmative on blood loss,” she replies. “He’s going to need a full workup inside the chopper.”  That statement causes a pang in Tommy’s chest, but he reminds himself that they’re more than capable of getting this all done properly and safely. His friends will be fine.  “About five minutes out,” he calls out over the line.  “Try to make it three,” Hen replies. The line goes quiet again, and for the next two minutes, Tommy tries to make good on her request, getting closer to the mountain. As they get nearer, he’s better able to make out where the vehicles are parked, lights still flashing on the engines as they start to descend in height. And then, a line clicks over, like someone pressing on their radio without intending to.  “Can’t see much, but it’s not looking good.” Eddie’s voice carries over the line. Tommy gulps, realizing it must be Howie that’s injured. He can only imagine now Evan is taking it, let alone how they’re going to break the news to Maddie. Still, he tries to remain focused on the task at hand, lowering them closer to the cliffside. They’re closing in enough now that he can make out a body and the darkened area where blood is pooling as he forces himself to inhale and exhale deep breaths.  “Think we can land,” Lucy asks, looking in his direction.  Tommy’s brow pinches as he continues to get them lower. “It’s gonna be tight, but I see a spot.” He clicks over on his radio. “Captain Wilson are you available? I’m a man down; left Rodriguez at First Presbyterian with our last transport.”  “I’m on my way down,” she replies, and there’s a shakiness to her tone.  It’s a process, getting them down safely. He has to put them down roughly a quarter mile up from where Howie is at so they can land safely, and as he does, Lucy is already jumping out of the back of the chopper.  “Three minutes,” she tells him, like the unit of time is suddenly a mantra for them. “Think you can get set up by then?”  Tommy glances around the back of the chopper and nods. He really hasn’t done anything medic-related since his army days, but he knows enough about the setup of their medivac chopper to know where to find supplies.  “Go,” he yells at her over the whirring of the blades. “Hurry!”  She’s gone before the word is halfway out of his mouth, and then he’s shuffling around in the back of the cabin, pulling supplies as quickly as he can. As he works, Lucy starts calling out over the radio information for the hospital. Her voice is tight, and something about it makes Tommy’s breathing grow shallow, even if he’s not entirely processing her words.  “Thirty-three year old male took a thirty foot fall. Looking at multiple internal injuries, compound fracture to the left femur and ankle, attempting to stabilize. Helmet appears to have taken impact, so not sure of cranial effects yet, if any. Deep cut to the right tricep, and what looks like an open fracture to the pelvis. Sixty seconds out from the chopper, at least thirteen from UCLA.” 

[peppermintquartz]

Based on this post

*

"Tommy?" Buck calls out. His hands are clammy and his heart has not slowed down for the past hour. His boyfriend's car is in the garage, and his keys are on the hook, so he's definitely home, but for Tommy to go radio silent on Buck on an off day is a new kind of terrifying.

Anything could've happened. Tommy might have fallen and hit his head in the bathroom, bleeding out. Tommy might have been crushed under the car he's repairing because the car lift malfunctioned. Tommy might have been abducted.

But Buck sees the keys and he forces himself to sound more normal. He calls out again, "Tommy? Babe? Where are you?" Kicking off his sneakers, he starts from the guest bathroom which they are re-tiling, and then peeks in the pantry as he passes it, and then he heads to the master bathroom. Nothing. No one.

Buck is about to call 911 to report Tommy's disappearance when he hears it. A soft shuffle. Maybe a slight gasping inhalation.

"Babe?" He swallows nervously as he approaches the closet. "Are you... Is that you?"

No answer. With a deep breath and a fist cocked in case it's an intruder, Buck opens the closet door.

And relaxes his hand, even as his heart clenches with pity.

It is Tommy, who is curled into the corner, his big frame trying its best to compress itself into the shadowy recesses. His hand is covering his mouth and his eyes are wide and unseeing. His cheeks are blotchy where Buck can see, and there's a vulnerability in his face that Buck has never seen before. Hunkering down, he reaches out a hand and touches Tommy's knee.

Tommy jerks and coils up even more tightly.

"Babe, baby, it's me, it's your Evan," Buck says, his heart breaking. "What's wrong?"

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut and his breathing speeds up.

"No no no, slow down, breathe with me. Breathe with me, please baby, slow down." Buck exaggerates his inhales and exhales, and to his gratification, Tommy seems to hear him and after four or five such breaths, he starts to mimic Buck.

Okay. That is good. Buck risks putting his hand on Tommy's foot. This time, although Tommy twitches, he doesn't pull away. He does make a choked whimper though.

"Alright. Okay, that's okay. Open your eyes, baby, look at me." Buck holds back his own fears and concerns. He has never seen Tommy like this.

Tommy blinks, his eyelashes sticking with tears, and he stares at Buck. "Evan?" he whispers soundlessly, dropping his hand.

Buck smiles. "Yeah, baby. Yes. It's me. Come out of there?"

Tommy presses his lips together and shakes his head. He seems lost.

Buck wants to drag him out, but he knows that will probably shatter what fragile trust he is building here between himself and this strangely frightened Tommy. Instead, he shuffles closer. "Can I sit with you?"

After some hesitation, Tommy nods.

It's a tight squeeze for two six foot two firefighters, but they manage by virtue of sheer stubbornness and also with Buck cradling Tommy against his shoulder. Running his fingers through Tommy's hair, Buck leans against the wood behind him and hopes he is helping.

He doesn't know how much time has passed when Tommy croaks out, "He's dead."

Buck goes very still. "Who is, Tommy?"

"My dad. He's dead. I got... I got a phone call." Tommy's voice is very small. "Suicide." He chuckles, as if he wants to rip out his throat. "Guess he finally got tired of having no one to beat up."

Shit. Buck knows that Tommy's relationship with his father is icy, that there is twenty years or so of silence between them, that for nearly the first twenty years of Tommy's life, Tommy's father ruled with an iron fist that he wasn't afraid to throw around.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you found out," Buck says sincerely.

Tommy chokes on a sob. "I shouldn't feel... Not like this. He's gone, he can't... But I can't go out there. Not yet."

"Well, we'll stay right here," Buck replies, kissing the top of Tommy's head. "We'll stay here forever if you need to."

He means it. He will live in this tiny closet with Tommy until Tommy is ready to go out there into the world again. It'll make some things difficult, but Buck will call the others, and they'll figure out a system to make it work, Buck and Tommy and their closet-sized lives.

"I wish I hated him." Tommy's voice is so small, so broken. "Hated him enough to... to feel good about this."

Buck tightens his embrace.

"He hit Mom all the time," Tommy continues, like he's in confession. "He'd find something wrong, about anything, and Mom would order me to hide, and then the beating began. Sometimes it's worse than beatings." Tommy gulps audibly and his fingers dig into Buck's shirt. "And if he heard me crying, he would hit me too, with his belt, and he would make her watch. Made her beg for him to hit her instead."

That such cruelty was inflicted on any child, let alone Tommy... Buck kisses him again, trying to convey how much he ached for young Tommy, how much he would have wanted to protect him.

"I didn't mean to... To hide. I just. Too much. Too many thoughts. My head feels. It's too much." Tommy buries his face into Buck's belly and his wide shoulders shiver, like he is cold.

"It's okay. We'll hide here until you have a manageable number of thoughts," Buck says. He blinks away unshed tears. He thinks about Tommy as a boy, skinny, still growing into his bones, terrified to be found, trying not to be a victim.

How frightened he had to have been, growing up with a father like that.

They stay in there for long enough that it becomes chilly. Tommy says, "I think we both need to get out."

Buck hides a grunt of soreness as he shuffles out of the narrow space, and then helps Tommy up. His legs and feet tingle with pins and needles.

"I suppose it's nice that we came out of the closet together," Tommy remarks, his voice sandpaper rough, and it is lame and unfunny, yet Buck starts laughing anyway, and he's laughing like his heart is breaking, and the next thing he knows he is crying, bawling even, and Tommy is kissing his cheeks and wiping away the tears with his shirt.

"I was so worried," Buck hiccups. "You didn't answer your phone. You didn't respond to anything. I thought you were hurt or dying." Or dead, he doesn't say.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby, it's my fault."

"Don't do it again."

"I don't have a second dad whose death by eating a bullet will trigger me into hiding." Tommy manages a wobbly smile.

Buck smacks Tommy's arm. "Too soon."

"Sorry." He kisses Buck. His cheeks are damp. "Sorry. I love you."

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 20: Trapped

Finally, the last part of the mini-series. Hope you enjoy, she's a doozy

Content warning: depictions of blood, injury, and death, reader discresion is advised

Word Count: 2001

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Come on Tommy, don't be stupid, don't be stupid," You're pacing through the Plex, checking every odd and end location you can think of for where this kid might be. 

Fourteen minutes.

He's moving back toward the security office, yes, but where he started from you have no idea. Furthermore, you can't risk going back there as you've no doubt Moon's prowling around trying to get him. You also don't think it's wise to let the bot know directly that you were flat out rejecting his offer. 

You duck behind another tall plant, eyes scanning across the atrium for any sign of life, "Okay, if I were a teenager, where would I hide?"

Fazerblast? No, too obvious. West arcade? Too open, you'll give him credit where it's due and argue that he's smarter than that. Mazercise was a possibility, it was just a matter of getting there. You had no idea if the other animatronics were also feeling murderous tonight and you'd really rather not find out. Shit, if you had Garcia with you maybe this wouldn't be so hard-

A scream pierces through the Plex, sending fear shooting straight to your core. 

Your feet move before you can stop them, rushing toward the sound without any hesitation. 

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," You start to chant until you come upon the scene of the crime and-

It's not Tom.

One of the janitors is being held up by their neck, blood covered hands desperately grabbing at the clawed hand holding them high above the night-themed attendant. You can only snap out of it when Moon's other hand suddenly plunges forward and-You close your eyes, flinching at the squelch you here before a thud resounds on the ground. 

You keep your eyes close, backing further behind the statue you were hiding behind, until you finally hear bells fade off into the distance. 

Ten minutes.

You peel them open, one after the other, and dare to observe the carnage just briefly. 

Doing so proves useful, as attached to the-most definitely dead-janitor's hip is a walkie talkie. You scan the atrium quickly, see nothing, and move swiftly. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," You whisper as you quickly snatch up the radio from the bloodied corpse. 

Once you have it you bolt back into a darkened corner, turning the channel to the guard frequency.

You speak low, cautious, "Tom, you there?"

"H-here," He whispers back, sounding on edge but, excited, "I, I made it back into the office! Where are you? The bots are going frickin' crazy tonight! We gotta find the others and get out of here, or, or something," You hear him jamming buttons on the control panel, "Why can't I get the front doors to open, or or call the cops, or just anything?"

Relief washes over you, but only briefly. Moon might have been distracted but it hadn't been for long. Your friend's not in the clear yet, "Listen. Lock down the office. If you hear anything in the vents, shut them immediately. But not too long, the stupid power's finicky so you'll need to conserve it. Turn out the lights and the cameras if you need to. Someone's probably flipped the circuit for the door access. I'm gonna try and get them open for you. Once I do, you time it right and get the hell out of dodge, got it?"

"You, you're talking like you aren't coming with," Tom's laugh is nervous, "Why are you talking like you aren't leaving?"

You sigh, looking up at the ceiling and biting your lip. You still had eight minutes. You could save yourself instead. The thought passes by as quickly as it arrived. To your credit, nobody really wants to die, it just happens. And if it's between you and someone else, you'll let it be you.

You'll make sure it's you.

You press on the talk button to the radio, "'Cause I'm not, Tom. Not right this second anyway. I'll worry about me, you worry about you, alright? And don't argue with me about it, we don't have the time for that."

"I-"

"Tom." You hate to be stern, but you will be.

He sighs, it's shaky, "Okay."

"I'll let you know when I'm at the circuit box. Stay safe. Good luck."

"Good luck."

Seven minutes.

It doesn't take long to get to your destination, you know the path well. Just being direct and taking the elevator down also helps. Does fuck all to steel your nerves though. You're scared, you're downright terrified. Dying wasn't on your to-do list for tonight. No, you were planning to spend the night teasing Rhoades and Connor about the Grizzlies game while halfheartedly helping Jenson beat them at ping-pong.

You just don't understand. Was there something that you're missing? Some piece to the puzzle that made all of this make sense. You've gone over it again and again in your head, but you can't find an answer. You can't find-

Three minutes.

A noise down the hallway becomes noticeable to your ears. It sounds like, you strain a bit, Garcia?

You approach slowly, his words becoming clearer as you slink down the hall, keeping a look out for any movement that could result in a deadly outcome. 

His voice is coming from the closet you know the circuit breaker is in. You can make out what he's saying when you're at the crossroads of the two hallways, about ten feet away. 

"Help... Please," He wheezes, then coughs, "Anybody? Somebody..."

You take a step forward and peek down both ends of the hall intersecting where you've come from. It's dark. No signs of life. Or anything else for that matter. 

Still, armed with your flashlight-you'd lost the taser, though you doubt it'd have been much use anyhow-you tip toe over to the door, and pull it open.

"Garcia you're lucky I'm scared of my mind, or I'd be giving you hell right about now-"

He's dead.

One minute.

His body is slouched against the wall, arms splayed out beside him not unlike the bloodstains behind him. There's red running down his head and additionally soaking through his shirt. Laying neatly on his chest and still squeaky clean is his walkie, which repeats that same line over and over again.

A trick.

Time's up.

"That was supposed to lure in someone else, not you, Little Star."

You turn around slowly, thinking that it buys you time you don't have. 

Even slouched over Moon towers over you. Clawed, stained hands scrape against the ground. In this level of darkness you can only see the deep red glow of his eyes. He tilts his head. 

You swallow, "Guess it didn't work then, huh?"

"I gave you another chance," He shifts just a little closer, you take a step back, "You wasted it. Why?"

"I'm a good person?" You try.

Moon chuckles, it turns dark quickly, "You think you're funny, is that it?"

"Maybe?" You squeak.

He sudden looms closer, now eye to eye with you and mere inches away, snarling, "You don't have any right."

You put your hands up, shying away. 

The bot shifts back, tone still unhappy but not as angry, "You don't have any right at all. Not after what you did."

"I'm sorry but I don't-"

You feel a sharp talon on the front of your chest. Not poking through your shirt. Not yet.

"You made a promise. And you didn't keep it."

You're taken back to several months ago. Out on a typical patrol, nothing exciting. You're about to check the Daycare off your mental list when a pair of red eyes greets you on the wall. 

Ah, him again. You didn't necessarily have a problem with the Daycare Attendant. But much like anyone else you felt either one of them were a bit, unnerving. The naptime attendant seemed to always take particular interest in you while you were on patrol. You'd caught him staring from afar several times, never really approaching say for once in a blue moon. And only to very briefly say hello before hiding away again. 

He must be feeling a bit bolder today. 

You raise your hand in greeting, easy smile on your face, "Evening, Moon."

"Hello," For a such a tall bot, he sometimes spoke so small.

"What're you up to this evening?" Your hands slink into your pockets, "Besides the usual, that is."

He shifts his crouch slightly, bells jingling, "Just, the usual, I suppose."

"Sounds like you need something to spice up your time then. You ever play any games in there?" You nod your head to the Daycare.

He shakes his head slowly, "Not me. Only naps."

You click your tongue, trying your best to not let the pity show, "Bummer. Say, maybe we could do something together sometime."

"Really?"

"Sure," You shrug, "Doesn't have to be a game, we could do whatever you'd like. I promise it'll be fun." 

Knowing how shy he is you doubt he'll actually take you up on that offer. He'll probably forget about it by tomorrow, that's how these machines work, right?

"Do you mean it?" His voice is raspy, but the tone is soft, shy. Cute, even.

You smile, "You bet. Sometime soon, how's that?"

"O-okay."

You give a salute, walking off, "I'll see you later then, Moon-man."

"Goodbye."

Back to now, eyes wide as you stare up at the Attendant with realization.

You didn't just agree to play a game. 

You'd promised a date.

And you'd completely forgotten about it, like a complete and utter jerk.

"Oh, Moon. I didn't," You stop, frowning, "I wasn't trying to-"

"Exactly, you didn't try. You lied. And I despise liars."

He's moving, you need to move. You need to think. Come on. Don't let it all be in vein. 

Your hand acts on its own, swinging upwards with your flashlight in hand and flipping it on. Moon yelps. And while he's blinded you take a slight step back and send a roundhouse kick straight into his faceplate. 

It hurts like hell, but it causes him to stumble backwards. You quickly turn, open the breaker box, and flip the switch. 

Spinning back around, you see Moon's still recovering, you dodge past his blind swinging claws and blot down the hallway. 

"Doors are open. Don't know how long that'll last. See you on the other side, Tom."

Back at the closet, you hear Moon growl out his irritation before taking off after you. And by the sounds of it, is gaining fast. 

Turn the corner, you're not trying to outrun him, just keep him distracted long enough for your coworker to escape. 

Soon enough, you find yourself in a similar predicament to earlier.

You're grabbed and in trying to right yourself slam into the wall, this one doing you in. You hiss at the pain that shoots up your shoulder, which is on fire, you think you might've dislocated it in your rush. 

Moon's hand is still on you, and while his grip is firm, it's not tight. Slowly, he uses both hands and guides you down the wall as you lay back against it. 

Your breathing is heavy as you stare up at the ceiling, out of breath and out of time. 

"Just do it already," You gasp out, "We both know you want to. And I can't say I don't totally deserve it."

You hear a few clicks and wait for your end. 

But when it doesn't come, you look back down, face to face with the bot again. 

His head is tilted to the side. Observing you. 

Once more, you find Moon's hand gripping your chin, he chuckles, "Silly Star, what's the fun in that?"

You pause, not quite understanding what he's saying. 

"You said we could do whatever I'd like, right?" His faceplate spins, "So we're going to do what I'd. Like."

The reality of the situation starts to set in for you.

You're trapped. 

And you think that may be worse than death. 

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

If you are physically incapable of roundhouse kicking (as am I) guess what? doesn't matter, you gained the ability for a split second for the purpose of this story. Anywho, virus moon! Or at least, a specific version of virus moon (wink wink nudge nudge). This concludes our little mini-series in the prompts. Twas a good bit of fun, but there are others to write and so, I'll be off. Link to the masterlist is here if you've missed any, thanks for reading!!

[black-arcana]

THREE DAYS GRACE Announces Return Of Original Singer ADAM GONTIER

Canadian rockers THREE DAYS GRACE have announced the return of original frontman Adam Gontier. The 46-year-old musician, who left THREE DAYS GRACE in 2013, will share lead vocals in the band's new lineup with singer Matt Walst, who has fronted THREE DAYS GRACE for the past decade.

THREE DAYS GRACE teased a reunion with Gontier earlier this week by posting a voicemail message in which Adam told Matt that he would "be at the studio soon, if you can just let everybody know."

Gontier said about his return to THREE DAYS GRACE: "I feel like it's been seamless, better than we were expecting. It's like we got back in a room together and picked up where we left off. We have been friends for so long, it's kind of natural to get back in the room together."

Walst added: "It's been so much fun and inspiring making this record. Combining over 20 years of THREE DAYS GRACE and doing something that no band has ever done. I'm excited for the fans to hear it!"

In April 2023, Gontier reunited with THREE DAYS GRACE onstage during the band's concert in Huntsville, Alabama. Gontier rejoined his former bandmates when they opened for SHINEDOWN at the Probst Arena At The Von Braun Center to perform two classic songs from THREE DAYS GRACE's 2006 album "One-X": "Never Too Late" and "Riot".

THREE DAYS GRACE later shared a post-performance photo with Gontier on social media and wrote in an accompanying message: "Soooo we did a thing."

In July 2022, Gontier said that a reunion with his former bandmates was "likely" to happen "down the road at some point." The Canadian-born musician made his comments just a couple of weeks after he and two members of the band's most recent lineup, bassist Brad Walst and his younger brother, vocalist Matt Walst, were inducted into the Norwood District High School Hall Of Honor in Norwood, Ontario.

Asked in an interview with Rock Feed if he would be open to working with THREE DAYS GRACE again now that he appears to be on good terms with his former bandmates, Gontier said: "You know what? Yeah. I mean, for sure. We've all grown up. It's been a while. There's no hard feelings or anything like that. We're all in touch now and we talk and text and stuff. We haven't really talked about doing anything — not yet anyway — but I feel like something like that is most likely down the road at some point," he added.

When interviewer Brian Storm noted that Adam's reunion with THREE DAYS GRACE would be a "big" deal, Gontier said, "And it would be a lot of fun." Storm then reiterated that the reunion would be "very big," to which Adam said: "Probably would be. You never know, man. We haven't really talked about it. But, yeah, I guess we'll see."

Earlier in July 2022, Brad Walst spoke about reconnecting with Gontier at the Norwood District High School event in an interview with Tommy Carroll of the 97.9 WGRD radio station. He said: "It's funny 'cause the high school's been calling us for years. And, obviously, we've all had kind of different schedules, and Adam's been doing his thing and we've been doing our thing. And until recently, to be honest, we hadn't really spoken that much — we'd text and stuff. But Adam's moved back to the area, and he's got a great family and a great wife. And we've all kind of been chatting and hanging out. Yeah, I called him and just said, 'They want the three of us' — they want Matt, Adam and myself. And everyone agreed, and it was, like, 'Okay, let's do this.' So it was pretty cool to see [our] high school, where you grew up… It's nice to be acknowledged."

He continued: "It's funny, 'cause I texted Adam, 'You made the Hall Of Fame.' He's, like, 'Yup. Straight-B student.' [Laughs] But I think just having us together in that room was way more powerful, for sure. So it was a pretty cool feeling."

In 1992, Gontier, Brad Walst, Phil Crowe, Neil Sanderson and Joe Grant formed GROUNDSWELL while most of the members were still in high school. That band broke up in 1995, but two years later Gontier, Sanderson and Walst reformed as THREE DAYS GRACE. Gontier left the band in 2013 and was replaced by Matt, the vocalist from another Norwood band, MY DARKEST DAYS.

In a 2007 interview with The Oklahoman, Gontier said that he met some of his first bandmates while they were freshmen at Norwood District High School.

"I ended up hooking up with Brad because we had the same love of music," Gontier said. "He didn't play anything at the time. I suggested him getting a bass, and he did."

Gontier said that Canadian bands, including THE TRAGICALLY HIP and OUR LADY PEACE were early influences, along with the Seattle rock scene, particularly the group SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE.

Gontier initially went into rehab in 2005 in Toronto after admitting an addiction to Oxycontin. The rehab stint influenced some material which would appear on THREE DAYS GRACE's "One-X" album, including the songs "Pain" and "Over And Over".

Gontier left THREE DAYS GRACE in the spring of 2013. At the time, the Canadian rockers cited unspecified "health issues" when his departure was announced. Adam later released a statement explaining he exited THREE DAYS GRACE to pursue new projects, and not to deal with addiction.

Gontier is currently a member of SAINT ASONIA, which also features STAIND guitarist/founding member Mike Mushok. The quartet is rounded out by Cale Gontier (bass) and Cody Watkins (drums).

THREE DAYS GRACE's latest album, "Explosions", was released in May 2022 via RCA Records.

[cjlouwho]

I expanded on this little thing I wrote the other day. It's literally just 1,000 words of Tommy and Rocker arguing with each other. Enjoy!

“We got a code four on the suspect!” Hondo called into his radio. “Sergeant Rocker sustained a gunshot wound to the leg; it's bleeding pretty good.”

“LAFD is two minutes out with the chopper,” Hicks replied from the ground. “The fire on the second floor has been contained. You guys should be able to make it down the stairwell without issue, but I want Rocker up in that bird.”

“Yes, Sir.” He walked closer to Rocker, who had the rest of 20-Squad hovering around him, Deacon helping him keep pressure on his wound. “LAFD's gonna take you to the hospital,” he explained. “The rest of us will go down the stairs once you've been taken up.”

Rocker grimaced as pain radiated through his leg. “Who's flying it?” he asked.

Hondo glanced from Rocker, to Deacon, back to Rocker. “Who's flying what? The helicopter?”

“No, the USS Enterprise!” He exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, the helicopter!”

“I don't know, Man.”

“Why does that matter right now?” Deacon questioned, lifting his hand ever so slightly to see if the bleeding slowed any.

“Just ask, please,” he groaned.

Hondo sighed, then got back on the radio. “Hey, is there a way you can find out who is flying the chopper?”

There was a pause, then Hicks replied, “Is there any particular reason?”

“Apparently. Just not sure what.”

Another pause, then, “Hang on.”

It only took a few seconds for Hicks' voice to come over the radio again, Rocker listening carefully. “Firefighter pilot Aaron Ferris.”

Rocker closed his eyes, sighing in relief. “Okay. Okay, that's good.”

“Why are you so worried about it, Rocker?” Hondo asked.

“Busy trying not to bleed to death right now, Hondo,” he bit back. “This is the last time I offer my services to 20-Squad by the way.”

“You're not bleeding that bad anymore,” Tan noted.

Rocker glared up at him. “You're still up here because?”

The sound of the chopper broke them all out of their soon-to-be argument. It hovered above the building and, a few moments later, someone began to descend from the helicopter.

Rocker eyed the person closely, especially once he reached the roof and unhooked himself and the spine board from the clips.

“Oh hell no,” he breathed out, grumpily shooing away Deacon's hand so he could press down on the wound himself.

Deacon was about to ask Rocker what the hell was wrong with him when the firefighter walking toward them took off his helmet. “What the-”

“Always knew I'd be saving your ass eventually, Donny,” The doppelgänger said as he knelt beside Rocker.

“You got something to share with the class?” Hondo asked Rocker pointedly.

“This is my twin, Tommy,” Rocker hurriedly explained. “You know what? Just leave me here,” he whined. “Let me die.”

Tommy batted Rocker's hand away from the wound, tearing his pants to get a better look. “Unfortunately, it's not that bad,” he said, noting the way it was barely bleeding now. “Dad would also kill me if I let you die. He likes you, remember?”

“Oh don't even start with that! I haven't spoken to him in like a month.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed. “Try three years, jackass. Now shut up and let me work.” He began to wrap the leg, just enough to keep the pressure on it while they transported him.

As he wrapped, a pain shot up Rocker's leg, causing him to moan. He reached out and smacked Tommy's shoulder. “Can't you be more gentle?! I literally just got shot!”

“You're such a baby.”

“You, quite frankly, have no idea what this feels like.”

Tommy stopped then, cocking his head to the side as he stared at his brother. “I don't? Really? I don't know what it's like to be shot?”

Rocker rolled his eyes dramatically. “You were overseas then,” he said. “And that was an explosion. It's different.”

“It's worse!”

“Says you.”

“Says everyone!”

Rocker motioned up at Deacon. “Deac, shooting or explosion, which is worse?”

Deacon looked back and forth between the two of them, a thousand questions running through his mind. Mostly for Tommy. “Explosion, Rocker. It's always explosion.”

Tommy grinned. “Haha.”

Rocker glared at Deacon. “You're a traitor, and this is the worst day ever.”

“What about-”

“Do not!” Rocker warned Tommy. “Never, ever mention that.”

“Mhm. Okay, come on. Get on the spine board so we can get out of here.”

“I- What do you mean, “get on the spine board”? You're supposed to put me on the spine board!”

Tommy sat back on his calves. “Are you really too weak to scoot your butt over six inches onto the board?”

“Would you really be asking this of anyone else in my current state, Thomas?”

“Anyone else in your current state would have already walked down the stairs and exited the building like a normal human, Donovan. Now, scoot!”

As soon as Rocker moved onto the spine board, moaning and groaning the whole way, he laid down and Tommy began to restrain him.

“We'll be going to Cedars-Sinai,” Tommy informed the rest of the group. “Maybe next time I see you guys Donny will actually introduce me to his co-workers.”

“Shooting victim!” Rocker reminded him. “Plus, it's not like you ever introduced me to your coworkers. Or your boyfriend! Or should I say ex-boy- Ow!”

Tommy pulled the final restraint, right over his groin, tugging extra hard, then clipped him to the rope so they could head up to the chopper. “If you don't shut up," he warned, "I'll release the clip halfway up and watch you spin around like a propeller until you hit the ground.”

Then, with a thumbs up, Tommy and Rocker began their ascent.

The rest of the team stood in silence for a moment, trying to take everything in.

“What the hell just happened here?” Hondo asked.

“Not a clue,” Deacon answered. “Permission to head to the hospital and see how this plays out?”

Hondo nodded. “Only if you give us the play by play.”

[sad-girl-hours23]

Sharing something I'm working on.

I love to read them, but I never thought I'd actually write a "crash that truck" fic. TW for Major Character injury

I'm still figuring out what this is & can be, but this literally came to me today after first, having a flash of Buck telling Tommy their relationship had "good bones." Cut to me listening to Don't Fear (The Reaper) a few hours later and well, this was born (my mind is a weird place, y'all)

Tommy stands with Evan in front of a Craftsman. He’s not sure he loves the boring, earthy tones but knowing Evan, he’s already imagined a thousand different ways to spruce it up. 

This is the fifth house they’ve looked at today and the headache forming at the base of his skull is urging him to finally just say yes to one. A voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s running out of time.

He looks at the covered porch and the decent sized yard and tries to picture a life here: coming home to Evan every day. His husband inevitably bringing home a stray animal, or three. Bringing home a baby, with tiny fingers and toes and Evan’s eyes. Watching their kids grow up. Growing old together.

Evan laces his fingers with Tommy’s, his hand burning against Tommy’s. Why’s he so cold? “I could see this being our forever home. It’s got good bones.”

It’s got good bones. Deja vu claws at the inside of Tommy’s brain. He really needs to take something for his growing headache.

Tommy laughs. “That is does, Evan.”

Evan tilts his head, furrowing his brow. He laughs, but it sounds wrong to Tommy’s ears somehow. “Since when do you call me, Evan?” 

The pain is growing brighter now, like flames licking at his skull. This is all wrong, but he can’t say why.

Evan walks toward the house. On the porch, he turns back to look at Tommy. “Are you coming?”

Tommy starts to follow, hears more than feels glass crunching under his feet. He sways, closes his eyes against the wave of vertigo that hits him.

He holds onto consciousness just long enough to think, where is that goddamn music coming from?

🞶🞶🞶

It’s just past midnight and somebody’s pounding on Tommy’s door. He opens the door to find Evan, his eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. His face lights up and as if on instinct, he takes a few steps toward Tommy before his expression drops and he leans in Tommy’s doorway.

“Are you drunk? Did you drive here?” Tommy looks past Evan, but doesn’t spot his jeep.

“I may have had a few beers, but that’s besides the point. I took an Uber from the bar.” He looks at the ground. “My date left me.”

“You should go home, Buck.”

Evan’s head snaps up. He digs a finger into Tommy’s sternum. “Don’t call me that.” He clutches Tommy’s henley. “What happened to us? I thought we were good. Solid, you know?”

Tommy’s not drunk enough for this conversation. “Sometimes things just don’t work out.”

Evan pouts. “No. I don’t believe that. We—our relationship, it had good bones.”

It had good bones? Tommy bites back a smile. It’s been a month since they broke up, but he’s still as hopelessly in love. It doesn’t change the fact that he was what was broken in their relationship.

“I just want to talk. Please.”

Tommy sighs and turns back into the house. He looks back at Evan, still standing on his porch like a lost puppy. “Are you coming?”

🞶🞶🞶

Tommy’s head is pounding. His vision swims. His ears ring. The smell of gasoline fills his nostrils. He nearly retches.

He thinks somebody’s calling his name, but they sound as if they’re underwater. He can’t hear anything over the song blaring. He moves on instinct to turn the radio down, but he’s pinned in place. Oh. He’s in his truck. He closes his eyes and tries to remember where he was headed.

The sound of shattered glass brings him back to consciousness and a familiar face fills his vision. “Buck?” he croaks. “What—?”

He attaches the Jaws to the door of Tommy’s truck. “That’s Evan to you asshole,” he grounds out. “You were in an accident. But we’re going to get you out. You’re going to be okay.” He wrenches the door open. “You don’t get to die on me, do you hear me?” Evan cradles Tommy’s face in his hands before he’s being pulled away by Hen and Howie. He prays this isn’t the last time he sees Evan, face stricken and staring down at his hands saturated with Tommy’s blood.

Howie shines a light into his eyes as Hen checks his pulse. “How’s that fat head of yours?”

He groans.

“Sounds about right. Just stay with us, alright?”

The last thing he hears is Bobby yelling, “let’s get him on that gurney.”

[emsprovisions]

❄️ Day 10 - Haul out the Holly ❄️

🎁 Today's fic is dedicated to @captain-gillian!

Summary: TK and Nancy decide to surprise Tommy by decorating the ambulance for the holidays.

Word count: 897

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

TK hops up into the driver’s seat and pulls on his shades while Nancy’s buckling herself into the passenger seat and similarly pulling her own sunglasses on. 

TK turns to her, “Ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Nancy nods. 

She plugs her phone into the ambulance’s sound system and starts blasting the 1987 song, Christmas in Hollis by Run DMC. 

The two paramedics feel way too cool as they drive around town, heading for Starbucks for two venti iced peppermint mochas to get their caffeine fix before heading to the craft store, Michaels. 

They keep their radios on, listening intently for any calls for Medic 126 as they browse the aisles of Christmas and holiday decor at Michaels. TK pushes their cart and Nancy leans into him, sipping from a straw in her mocha and showing him TikToks she has saved for decoration inspo. Something catches her eye and she lights up as she points out an object to TK. 

“We need that garland.” She’s pointing at a felted garland that’s made to look like Santa’s sleigh with eight reindeer. 

“Absolutely,” TK laughs, plucking the decor off the rack and dropping it in their cart. “We need some string lights too, and window clings if we can find any.”

They successfully make it through the store without any calls and by the time they’re paying, their cart is loaded with decorations for the rig. 

TK and Nancy get back in the ambo and drive back to the firehouse, singing along to more Christmas songs, drinking their coffees, and giggling as they plan out where they’re going to put all the decorations. TK smoothly backs them into their bay and they hop out and go around back, climbing into the rig together and shutting the doors.

“You really think Cap is going to be okay with this?” Nancy asks skeptically as she rifles through their shopping bags.

“Nance,” TK laughs. “This was your idea. It’s not like we’re going overboard with it, just sprucing it up for the holidays. Let’s unload everything on the gurney and see if we like all our ideas. We can always return some of it.”

Nancy nods, and together they unload the bags. 

Nancy stopped at Target before work to pick up three mini stockings with their initials for them to hang up on the cabinet doors in the order: TNT.

“Nice,” TK grins, admiring her work. 

“I thought so,” Nancy waggles her eyebrows at TK before getting to work stringing lights around the top of the bus. 

TK works on hanging up the Santa’s sleigh garland on the central bar above the gurney with zip ties. Next, TK sticks window clings to the glass surfaces in the bus. There’s some representation for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and even just some general winter scenes with snow and snowmen.

They hang a few ornaments around cabinet handles and tie bows around the door handle from the inside. They’ve made sure to get decorations that won’t impede their work, and hopefully none of it will annoy Captain Vega. They want it to be a surprise for her after the past couple of years have been so hard. 

When TK and Nancy are satisfied with their work, they grab a pair of matching antler headbands they bought at Michaels–TK actually went overboard on the headbands, and bought himself a few more pairs from Michaels and also plans on ordering some from Amazon for Christmas and Hanukkah. He’s going to keep the collection in his locker and to wear on calls, especially if they have kid patients. 

They hop out of the ambulance and hang a wreath on the outside of the door before stepping back to admire their handiwork. 

The ambulance softly glows from the multicolor Christmas lights, and the whole thing looks festive and cheery, as do the paramedics of the 126 with their reindeer antlers. 

TK looks up at Nancy with a big smile, “Cap is gonna love this.”

“I hope so,” Nancy bites her lip as she looks over the rig. “Are you sure we didn’t go overboard?” 

“We’re spreading holiday cheer, Nance, it can’t get much more wholesome than that,” TK laughs. 

“What is going on down here?” Tommy walks up to the ambulance with her clipboard and a confused smile. “I thought y’all were restocking the bus.”

“Nah,” TK grins. “We were actually adding to the inventory.”

“What is all this?” Tommy looks between her two reindeer and the decorated bus.

“Is it okay?” Nancy asks, worrying at her lip again. “We can take it all down if it’s too much. It’s just I saw some other ambulances on TikTok doing similar and I thought we could surprise you.”

“Nancy,” Tommy laughs, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

“Go look closer, Cap,” TK grins. “Check out everything we did.”

Tommy does move closer, she laughs at the stockings with their initials, “B Crew is going to be jealous of that,” she remarks.

“I got them stockings too,” Nancy admits. “I’ll hang them up when our shift is over.”

“That’s sweet!” Tommy shakes her head. “All of this is so sweet. You guys did a great job.”

“Really?” Nancy’s eyes light up. “You really like it?”

“I really, really needed this. Come here, both of you.” Tommy pulls her team into the biggest hug. “This is the best Christmas gift.”

[thefixations-ofmine]

You Set Me Ablaze - Chapter 1 : Initial Landing

Pairing: Park Ranger!Evan Buckley x Air Ops!Tommy Kinard Word count: 4k Warnings: Blow job, hand job, semi public, stuff in a helicopter, pet names, come play

Summary: Tommy and the guys from Harbor rent a cabin in a California Parks campground some hours north of Los Angeles. He's hoping to enjoy the time off and participate in engaging team-building activities. Little does he know a blue-eyes boy would be occupying most of his schedule. / Evan is a new park ranger with high hopes to become employee of the month. He didn't expect to have his brain scrambled by the hot helicopter pilot when he picked up their file on his morning chores run. He hopes that his services will grant him a good review.

A/N: I had initially wanted to make a single long fic with this, but I keep getting ideas and I like where this part ends so this will be part 1 of maybe 3.

Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist | AO3

“Thank you for the walkthrough, Ranger Buckley.” Bennet shakes his hand with a truthful smile, and places his bag on the first bed by the door. The young man gleams at the acknowledgement of his good work, his baby blues nearly hidden from his stretched smile. Tommy takes note of the little quirks in his composure as he’s secretly checking them out; his favourite was seeing how white his knuckles turned around the clipboard when their captain started taking his uniform off. Ranger Buckley was standing there, unaware that he was being ogled himself by the beefy man just out of his eyesight. But then he turned in his direction and Tommy swears the kid’s smile sparkled like those toothpaste commercials.

“Pleasure’s all mine gentlemen,” Buck answers, diverting his attention back to the group - not before eyeing Tommy up and down. He turns on a radio and sets it on the wooden desk by the door, where books and maps are scattered. Most had started fading from the sun rays over the years - Tommy would argue that some might actually date back from before Buck was born. The thought of that gap fueled his wicked mind. “If you need assistance, simply call me over the CB. Use ‘Buck’, you’ll get my attention faster,” he adds with a chuckle, taking a step back to exit the door after his note. Tommy’s stomach knots at the sight of him leaving.

“Buck? Like a deer?” Riley half-jokes, but everyone sees the double entendre. Buck has googly blue eyes, and a soft grin. Plus he works in a forest. Has freckles. His hair is god damn fawn-coloured for crying out loud! Add all this to his ungodly long legs, and the man is quite literally the incarnation of Bambi. He must have caught up on the joke, because crimson is slowly creeping up his chest and cheeks. Tommy takes another mental note of that marvelous sight.

“Um, well-” he exhales a nervous laugh. Yeah, Tommy is so done for. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, no. I should put that on a mug!” He knocks twice on the door frame with his index knuckle and turns to head back to the main building. Tommy admires his backside as he’s walking away, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to remember every little detail of his body as if he needed more reasons to obsess over the poor guy. He’s running so many scenarios in his mind and he knows he has to come out of his bubble in the next seconds, and then:

“Buck? Hold on!” He reaches the ranger’s side in a few strides.

“Evan,” the younger man says first. “Please call me Evan.” Fuck, that would be delicious to moan.

“Evan.” Tommy’s body is now slowly changing colours too. He can feel his fingers tingling and his breath quickening. Suddenly, he forgets why he’s even standing here in the brisk evening air, swinging nervously on the balls of his feet. Evan tilts his head, silently waiting for him to come to.

“Are you okay, sir?” Evan eventually asks, pulling Tommy out of his trance with a shiver running down his spine. He’s gotta wiggle his leg to adjust his… growing problem.

“Yeah,” he manages to whisper. “I actually wanted to ask.” He rubs his hands onto his jeans, and licks his lips. You got this, he tells himself. You’ve been to war!

“I’m not a morning person, but I was thinking, maybe I could take you on a chopper tour over the park tomorrow?” The words come out without pause. He smiles, or tries to, as he realises he’s showing way too much teeth - he doesn’t know Evan is currently melting inside at his crinkly nose. When Evan’s mouth opens without a sound, panic sets in and he curses himself for reading this all wrong. “No pressure! I mean, I’m sure you’ve alread-”

“Yes!” Evan finds himself answering with enthusiasm.

“Yes?”

“I would love to. I haven’t had the chance to do this yet. We were thinking of offering the service for guests, but it’s quite difficult to get permits, and those things are expensive!” He stops to take a deep breath, and keeps going. Tommy listens to Evan ramble about the Park’s plans of expansion; watching his hand motions, his eyes grow big with passion, and overall studying him. He leisurely makes paths of where he wants to drag his hands first, then his mouth, and then Tommy has to stop thinking or a leg shake will not cut it.

“It’s settled then,” Tommy says. “After breakfast? I’ll pick you up at the front desk?”

“Sure thing, I’ll be done checking people in by ten,” Evan confirms.

“As long as you’re not checking them out too much,” Tommy teases with a wink and is pleased when the joke is received with a cute laugh. He amicably grabs Evans shoulder, maybe a second too long but Evan doesn’t pull back - Tommy lingers, trying his best to feel the hard muscles under his touch, a big contrast from the usually smaller, twinkier men he’s attracted before. He wonders how rough he could be with Evan…

“I’m Tommy, by the way” he states with urgency. He’s then confused by the chuckle that comes out of Evan.

“I figured,” he says, pointing to Tommy’s embroidered name on his uniform shirt. Smart. Evan returns the innocent touch and, finally, walks away.

***

Evan is up far too early considering the first check-in isn’t before eight. But as soon as the sun hit his face, which was probably around five thirty, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind quiet. There was a moment where he panicked over what to wear, as if he didn’t have a uniform to put on. As if this was an actual date and he was reading too much into it. Tommy was just being nice. He did try to choose the best pieces though; beige cargo shorts, to show the killer calves, a soft and adjusted white t-shirt, sadly covered by his olive green work shirt - he can take the shirt off later, he notes - and lastly his favourite California flag cap. When he is satisfied with the reflection in the mirror, he dumps the rest of his coffee in his insulated mug and heads to work.

It’s around seven when he makes it to the main building, so he’ll have plenty of time to check down some tasks before welcoming guests. He parks his quad by the back where they keep the extra fire logs, and he gets startled by approaching footsteps.

“Morning, Evan.” An oddly familiar voice greets him. It’s slightly more rough though, tired, adding to the morning air shivers that are running on his skin. He turns around, and closing in on him is Tommy, the tall, broad, handsome pilot. He’s wearing long, black, fitted jeans and a grey hoodie. Phenomenal. The dirty Timbs are a bonus, but he will keep that thought for later.

“Hi, Tommy,” he chimes. The smile that comes his way warms his body back up. He checks his watch: “So much for not being a morning person.” He gets another crinkly smile.

“Sorry if I was off, last night,” Tommy begins. “I was tired and the guys had been dumbasses all day. To be honest I was baffled when I saw you and my brain just…  combusted.”

“Baffled?” There’s a bit of confusion in Evan’s voice. He sees Tommy’s expression change, as he realizes the implication of the word, and he replies;

“Oh, gosh. No, I didn’t mean it like…” Tommy rubs his face, thinking. “I didn’t mean it badly. All I meant was that I usually have a good, um, radar. And I didn’t want to overstep while you were working. I didn’t really know which foot to dance on for a minute.”

“Radar?” Evan questions, but he’s being playful now. He knows. He knows that Tommy knows. But he also will not give him what he wants right away. He wants to hear the adonis before him say it out loud. There’s a sparkle in Tommy’s Gatorade blue eyes, he’s got him hooked.

“I, well. I guess I just outed my intentions here.” Tommy takes his hands out of his pockets and seems to relax some more. He even reaches for the hem of Evan’s shirt and toys with it. “You’re cute. Like really cute. And I panicked last night and I try not to be too cutesy in front of my coworkers, so… I just wanted to have a moment with you where I could actually not be a total mess.” Evan gets it. He gets it too well, and he just wants to hug him and say it’s alright and-

“It’s alright Tommy. I-I can’t let that show either while I’m at work. I’m out, but it’s still… not the most comfortable thing to display,” he adds with a half-smile. “If only you knew how hot you were when you got down from that chopper yesterday.” He takes a step closer, rubbing the back of his index finger over Tommy’s forearm. “When you reached for my shoulder last night, I could barely keep my knees in check, but I didn’t want to act on it and be a fool. So we’re even, I guess, for both holding back.” The fucker winks, bringing Tommy’s eyes to his birthmark. His hand is still roaming, tracing the valley of Tommy’s bicep while Tommy’s has settled comfortably on Evan’s hip.

“What if I had lost control and kissed you last night? Would that have scared you off?” He’s being flirted with, and Evan would be damned to cut this off. The way Tommy looks at his lips, and then back into his soul as he waits for an answer has his nape itching with need. It doesn’t help that he’s so close they are currently sharing oxygen.

“A-are you joking? I would have most likely messed up my pants.” 

Tommy laughs, and Evan joins him, but he takes an abrupt step back when the truck of his colleague turns onto the driveway. He smiles, and excuses himself before getting to his tasks. Tommy confirms he’ll be back at ten, and goes on for a stroll around the trails. Evan will find a better opportunity to tell Tommy he’s actually bisexual, if that even matters for the moment.

***

It’s ten a.m. on the dot when the bells on the door jingle and Tommy walks into the main building. It’s a typical forest lodge; everything that can be made out of wood has been carved with skillful hands, and signature paintings from local artists decorate the walls. There’s a faint smell of incense burning and a distant rumble of guests in the lounge area. He’s surprised there aren’t any animal-head trophies displayed anywhere, though he doesn’t care for them.

“See anything you like?” Evan’s sweet voice interrupts. He’s still behind the counter, and Tommy appreciates the distance for now, because if Evan was taking off his shirt and looking at him through hooded eyes within arms reach, he’d be burying his hands in the poor boy’s locks and making a fool of himself in front of the lovely family sifting through the brochures.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Evan adds, walking around the counter with a small bag. “You’re staring, sir.” He teases and it’s only when his hand lands on Tommy’s chest that he comes back to himself.

“I, um. Sorry,” Tommy manages to whisper. He smiles then, and grabs Evan’s bag for him. “Please, let’s get out of here.” They both chuckle and head out to the backyard.

Tommy obviously walks about two feet behind Evan, watching the muscles of his back dance under the tight white undershirt. He allows his gaze to wander onto his lower back, then down his ass where the material of his shorts fold slightly under the bulb of it with each step. There, he thinks. That’s where I wanna dig my fingers. They reach the helicopter and Tommy hurries to open the door, desperate to be out of sight.

“So, did you catch all that”, Tommy asks after running Evan down the take-off, landing, and emergency procedures. He knows that he’s in control if anything were to happen, but he also noted Evan’s damp hand print on the side of the seat and how he took several deep breaths after buckling up. Calming down his nerves will be beneficial for him later. Evan nods with a smile and seems to adjust.

“I guess we’re getting off then!” Tommy winks.

The humming of the engine is quite relaxing and Evan tries to keep breathing through his nose until they're high enough and the scenery around him doesn’t seem to be moving extremely fast. His grip loosens around the edge of the seat, and he rubs the sweat that formed under them onto his shorts. They’re close enough that his elbow nudges Tommy’s arm in the process, gaining his attention.

“You okay, Evan?” Tommy asks, adding comfort through his voice.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” Tommy reaches to put his hand on his forearm and runs his thumb over - what Tommy doesn’t know - is a very sore muscle in need of attention. Evan manages to swallow the whine that threatens to rat him out. Little does he know the headset mics are very sensitive.

“Alright then, let’s see that side of the mountain first,” Tommy indicates and the chopper leans to the left, bringing Evan shoulder to shoulder with him. He relishes in the touch until they are sat up straight again.

“I can’t thank you enough for proposing to do this…” Evan adds, trying to keep his mind busy. But the hand on his arm is still lingering and he thanks the heavens above that Tommy is experienced enough to maneuver the stick single-handedly. The contact is burning through his skin and he feels himself filling up the last bit of room in his pants.

“Well, it’s my pleasure, trust me.” Tommy’s hand snakes along the top of Evan’s arm, reaching his wrist, and then lacing itself with his and he squeezes. “I have the dreamiest co-pilot.”

The air becomes thick and Evan wiggles in his seat to try and rub away at his current itch, but he reluctantly has to use his hand to pull at the material just enough for his dick to move into a better angle and not throb in pain. He pushes a sigh of relief, but Tommy’s hand lets go of him suddenly, leaving his stomach in a knot.

“You know,” Tommy starts. Evan doesn’t allow himself to look up from his empty hand until Tommy forces him by grabbing his chin. He doesn’t care that they’re several thousand feet in the air, he’ll stare into his eyes as long as Tommy doesn’t get tired of him. “Maybe there is a way for you to thank me properly for today.” There’s no hesitation in his voice, and Evan loves the direction this is taking.

“An- and, that is?” His voice is shaking - whiny.

Tommy chuckles and takes his hand back down onto him, not aiming for his arm. Before Evan knows it, Tommy is expertly looping the button of his cargos out of the loop and then rubs his hand along the inside of his thigh - his rings create a delicious sound against the ripples of the fabric. Evan shivers with his entire body. His hips have a mind of their own.

“I noticed you were having a little situation there,” he looks at Evan’s crotch, then back at his reddening face. Without breaking eye contact, he digs his hand into the front of Evan’s pants, cupping his entire semi and Evan salivates at the contact - his previous encounters had never engulfed him so easily, he starts leaking at the thought of Tommy’s deadly grip around him. But sadly: “Why don’t you show me what you’re working with, sweet boy,” Tommy adds, turning back to watch their surroundings while Evan proceeds to get himself situated.

Evant lets out a strangled moan as he pumps himself slowly, once and twice, and he’s hard and sensitive and toying with the pressure of his fingers around his tip to try and slow down his impending orgasm. It feels like his first time discovering that the appendage between his legs had nerve endings, and he’s gushing precome at an alarming rate.

“Good boy,” Tommy rasps between two peaks at Evan. His free hand sits on his own dick, not applying any pressure, just holding himself as if he was trying to keep a monster caged in. Not wanting to let it die, yet keeping the attention away from himself a little longer though the sight of Evan’s thick, curved dick would never stop the blood from rushing south. He realizes in vain how he put himself in a tough situation with his little game, but he’s good to keep this going a little longer.

“Tommy,” Evan whines. His cheeks are burning, there’s a sheen layer of sweat forming on his forehead. “Tommy.” This one is shy of a whisper. He keeps pumping and twisting and occasionally adding spit into the mix, his left hand knuckles are turning white as he desperately tries to hold himself onto the seat, his hips have slipped a few inches forward and his back is pushing into the seat every time he fucks into his hand.

“You look so good, baby. You wanna come for me?” Yes, yes, yes. Tommy thinks he heard Evan grunt into the mic, though his own thoughts have started to scramble from the pain between his legs. He expertly starts lowering them back to the pad as he catches a glimpse of Evan writhing on the seat next to him, and god he wishes he could have his mouth on him. Once he’s sure they landed safely, he lets go of the stick and turns towards Evan who’s long lost in the chase for his release - he doesn’t feel the movement or lack-there-of, until Tommy has his hand around his dick and is working him the last bit of the way. He feels a hot breath against his ear:

“Come for me baby, spill all over my hand.” With a couple more pulls and twists, and his hand pinching at his nipple, Evan comes into long, thick spurts onto Tommy’s hand, his own pants and shirt. His senses come back to him as he hears Tommy whisper sweet nothings into the side of his face, and Evan turns, not thinking twice before crashing his lips onto Tommy’s. It’s hungry, wet, and very much what Evan had wanted since the moment Tommy dragged his rugged body out of this chopper. He runs his hand into the dark curls at Tommy’s nape and elicits a strangled moan out of him. They break the kiss, foreheads leaning onto the other as they catch their breaths.

“See, now you messed up your pants before I even kissed you,” Tommy jokes, and kisses him once more, before pulling away to bring his hand to his mouth. He growls at the salty taste coating his tongue: one day he’s going to get it straight out of the tap. He sees the shiver running through Evan and he looks at the back of the chopper: “Would you like to return the favour?”

There are merely two minutes between the moment both their buckles are unfastened and when Tommy finds himself with his pants around his ankles and Evan kneeling in the small space between the rows of seats before him. The way Evan’s nose runs up the crease of his thigh as he inhales him in has his entire body slacking a bit. He hums in admiration and he feels his warm tongue roll onto his balls, before creeping its way up the underside of his dick. Evan sucks at the bead of precome and runs his pointed tongue into the slit.

“Fuck, baby,” Tommy moans, “run that tongue all over me.” And Evan obliges. He repeats the movement just enough times to feel the muscles of Tommy’s legs ripple under his arms. He takes Tommy into his mouth about halfway, and pulls back, and goes back down, and pulls back, until there’s a generous amount of saliva following his lips when he pops off. Tommy growls and grabs him by the chin, pulling him into a dirty kiss, tongues fighting dominance, before he lets go of him and motions for Evan to proceed. He brings his hands behind his head to recline a little, jutting his hips up enough to have his dick rub against the side of Evan’s face. They both chuckle quietly, and Evan gets back to the task at hand.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the challenge and the way the back of his throat burned at the stretch. He could pump him with two hands and still have room to fit his tip in his mouth. Evan had only been with women so far and a handful of - selfish - men who hadn’t really let him play with them before being fucked, so this is considerably the biggest, hardest thing he had ever put his mouth on. He’s already addicted to the taste, the ridges and curves and the pulses of Tommy’s veins everytime he exhales.

He deducts that his work is appreciated when he feels a sharp tug at his hair, and meets the dark eyes looking down at him. Tommy’s mouth is open and his breaths are staggered - Evan can’t help but run his hands up his stomach and chest as he tries his best to get his nose to the base of his cock. He gags, but holds on and Tommy licks his lips at the sight of the tears running down his face - that he swipes with his thumb and brings to his tongue with a devilish smirk. Evan moans around him, his renewed erection bobbing as he focuses on breathing and swallowing around Tommy.

“Baby, I’m-” Tommy begins, but has to focus as the simple thought of saying it out loud takes him near the edge. “Can I come in your pretty mouth?” There’s a simple nod, and Tommy loses it. He brings his hands on both sides of Evan’s face and starts fucking into him, just enough that he gets his rush but doesn’t have to stop to accommodate Evan. It’s only around five strokes before he feels his body tingle and his asshole start to spasm anyway.

“Evan,” he moans, the sound coming out like sweet honey as it rolls on his tongue. Yes, that does sound delicious. He pulls Evan’s head off him and takes himself in his other hand, pumping his tip and aiming onto the sweet boy’s waiting tongue. His body goes rigid and his head falls back until the first spurt comes out, and then he watches the next three coat Evan’s tongue and chin, before wiping his tip onto his top lip. He curses as he sees him swallow and lick at the excess around his mouth.

Evan bites his bottom lip and looks down at himself, hand coated in his own come that he had absentmindedly been rubbing out as Tommy was fucking his face. He chuckles, suddenly shy and when he looks up at Tommy, he simply raises his eyebrow at him and Evan goes on to lick his hand as well.

“Please tell me I can invite myself to your cabin tonight?” Tommy blurts and Evan chokes onto his come. They both laugh and Evan answers after a moment;

“You’ll have to wait until it’s dark,” he says, starting to put his clothes back to normal.

“I’d wait a month if you asked me to.”

Next chapter (wip)

[theycalledmebaby]

LOVERS AND FRIENDS

| steve harrington x fem!reader | 18+

-END OF THE ROAD

summary: flashback to the first time Steve Harrington made you cry.

warnings: angst.no smut. typical middle school bullying? mention of shitty dads. not edited.

series masterlist | series mixtape(coming soon)

October 2002

7th grade, end of the school day. Boys II Men’s “End of the Road” plays on the radio, sending chills down your spine. You’re trying to keep your composure as your mom asks how your day was, battling back tears. It’s a cruel twist of fate that this song is playing right now. Not only is it the end of your friendship with Steve, but this was one of the few songs you both agreed on.

Growing up, your tastes in music diverged—you leaned toward hip-hop and R&B, thanks to your younger parents, while Steve Harrington was all about pop. Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Britney Spears, Celine Dion—those were his favorites. Despite your differing tastes, you both shared a love for movies and cheesy drama TV series. Except during his weird Titanic phase when he made you watch it every weekend, or the fact he hated horror movies, which drove you crazy since you loved them.

Steve’s parents were strict about the media he consumed, while your mom, being younger and more lenient, wasn’t as restrictive. This meant Steve was always reporting back about your music choices or horror flicks, especially when Eddie Munson was around.

You met Eddie when you were eight—he was your mom's best friend’s kid, and since your mom often babysat Steve, the three of you were inseparable. Steve and Eddie got along well, but Steve’s jealousy over your friendship with Eddie often led to him tattling on your movie nights.

Yes, Steve Harrington, once a nerdy, goody-two-shoes tattletale, evolved into the King Steve everyone adored. But Steves's sensitive side, the one where he'd cry during The Lion King and learn Grease dance moves with you, was never truly hidden. He’d hold your hand during thunderstorms, kiss your scraped knees, and walk you to class every day, always reassuring you when you cried.

Steve was your first in many ways—the first best friend, the first boy to kiss you, but also the first to make you cry and break your heart.

The first time Steve broke your heart was when he started dating Nancy Wheeler in the second semester of sophomore year. That’s another story. But the first time he made you cry was in 7th grade when he called you ugly in front of all the 7th and 8th graders, including your crush, Tommy Hagan. Steve humiliated you on purpose.

Since last summer, after you told him Billy Hargrove asked you to be his girlfriend, Steve’s been a dick. You’re not sure why—he didn’t seem to dislike Billy back then, though he does now, thanks to their fight.

When Billy broke up with you, the first week of 6th grade, he did it in front of everyone at early morning break. He almost made you cry. And Steve sucker punched him. It was the first fistfight Steve had ever been in. Billy gave him a black eye. They both got lunch detention for a week and Steve wouldn't talk to you for a couple of weeks after that but said it was just because he was grounded.

 Since then he’s become a complete asshole to you, and you get it. He’s becoming more popular, you two have different interests, and that's okay. Friends grow apart, but you never expect this from him. For his words to hurt so bad. To embarrass you like that in front of everyone. Just like Billy did. Just like Eddie did that day at Steve’s party.

Fuck boys. 

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

You hear your mom saying something to you, but you're too focused on the lyrics. 

Although we’ve come to the end of the road, still I can’t go. Why does this stupid song have to be playing right now? You think to yourself as the tears stream down your face now. You couldn’t believe him.

You two had gotten into an argument in your last period and Steve commented that you are probably just obsessed with him and jealous. You blew up on him and said some pretty mean things and so does Steve. 

“oh get over yourself Steve Harrington, like I would ever want to be with someone as lame as you. Why don’t you go fix your stupid hair”

 “Yeah well, no one would ever wanna be with you, 'cause you’re crazy and.. and ..and ugly!  Everyone knows Billy Hargrove only went out with you 'cause he felt sorry for you!” No one wants to be around you! Thats why your  step dad never sticks around and...and why your real dad didn't stick around!

You didn’t respond. The tears in your eyes were evident, and the classroom fell silent as the teacher walked in. Thankfully the bell rang, and you grabbed your backpack, and left without a word when Heather and Robin called after you. It was all a blur.

Steve cried himself to sleep that night. You were once his best friend, and he had promised your mom he’d always take care of you. How could he say such things? He had always thought you were perfect—the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. The comment about your dads made him sick. He was ashamed and scared to apologize sooner, worried about how you’d react and fearing he’d get in trouble with your parents, who you hadn’t told, but he didn't know that.

You eventually forgave him, but things were never the same. You’d say hi in the hallways or chat online, but the closeness was gone.

That was the first time Steve Harrington made you cry. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the last.