#and the 118 is wondering if he even left

[kenacoki]

Playing With Fire

//Pairing// Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

//Summary// You and Eddie have never gotten along ever since you’ve joined the 118. When the two of you are forced to quarantine together after a sudden exposure to a possible virus while on a call, there’s only so much that can happen.

//Request// Smut prompts #1, #7, #12, #14, and #15

//Word Count// 6.86k

//Warnings// MDNI (18+), smut (p in v), dirty talk

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

//a/n// This is my first time ever writing smut! If you guys have any constructive criticism feel free to let me know :)

It was another early start at work. The fire station was rather peaceful during these hours; a few members were just waking up after late-night calls, and a few others were just finishing up breakfast.

As you arrive and head up to the loft, you can just barely make out the figure of a person hunched over in a chair at the kitchen island.

Eddie Goddamn Diaz.

He was half-sleep in his seat, slumped over on one arm and sipping on a quickly cooling cup of coffee, his eyelids half closed.

He didn't notice your approaching steps into the room for a few seconds, only stirring into consciousness upon hearing you get closer. Quickly jerking into a more awake state, he turns his head to look at you as you enter the kitchen.

"Oh, it's you." He mumbles.

His voice was low and rough from the early hour as he spoke, his eyes still partly closed and the look on his groggy face suggested he hadn't even registered his words properly. He yawned and took another small sip from his cup, before looking at you again.

"What time is it?" He asked in his half-conscious state.

“Time for you to go back to sleep,” you grumble, turning on the coffee maker and popping in a (f/f) coffee pod. “God knows you need all the beauty sleep you can get.”

Eddie lets out a low scoff as he hears your words, slowly turning his head to look at you. His brown eyes were half-open still, but he had mustered enough energy to form an annoyed expression.

"Haha, very funny." He responded dryly. "Maybe you should worry about your own face before commenting on mine."

Eddie takes another weary sip from his coffee, now eyeing you from across the kitchen as you get your drink ready.

It's been like this for several months now between you two, constantly butting heads and getting into small arguments at every opportunity. Everyone at the station has gotten fed up with the constant fighting by this point, especially considering both of you have to work so closely on calls.

But despite this, there was a part of both of you that actually enjoyed the arguing.

Each time you argued, something in the back of both of your minds enjoyed it. The tension between you both heightened with each heated exchange, and the adrenaline it brought felt almost...

Thrilling.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and you knew how to get under his skin just as easily. It was almost a game to you both; to see who would snap first and give in.

But each time, nothing ever happened. The tension would rise and rise until someone was there to break up the argument, and both of you would be left to stew in the tension until the next time it happened.

It was like an endless cycle. You both knew the other's weaknesses and kept throwing little jabs at each other any chance you got.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you were born an asshole, or if someone just hurt you so bad that—”

“Oh, here we go.” Eddie quickly cuts you off with a scoff, not letting you finish your jab at him. “I was wondering how long it would take you to start with your insults.”

He shifts in his seat, his muscles tensing just slightly in annoyance, "Can't you keep your mouth shut for more than two seconds?" Eddie retorted, an edge to his voice.

"And miss the chance to piss you off? Never." You spit with a smirk, leaning against the counter as you watch Eddie's tired expression.

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand over his face tiredly as he grumbles softly.

"Te juro que no eras tan atractiva—” He grumbles, the irritation building up inside him.

“I literally have no idea what you’re saying, so that literally affects me none.”

Eddie’s eye twitches as he hears your response, his annoyance shifting into anger.

His grip on his coffee cup tightens, clearly trying with all his might not to lose his temper. It’s probably a miracle that he hasn’t thrown it at you yet.

The tension in the room is almost tangible, both of you on the verge of another argument, even despite Eddie’s tired state.

“I swear to god,” He starts, his voice growing harsher. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna—“

“Is it even possible for you both to not argue for once in your lives?”

You both jump in surprise to find Chimney standing at the top of the loft stairs, a mix of amusement and irritation on his face.

He crosses his arms and leans against the railing of the loft, eyes flickering between the both of you.

“It’s not even 8 a.m. and yet, and you two are already arguing like an old married couple.” He jokingly teases, a knowing smirk on his face.

Eddie’s eyes harden at Chimney’s words, while you can’t help but scoff at the comment.

“We are not a married couple.” Eddie retorts immediately, while you respond simultaneously.

“Yeah, to be married couples actually have to like each other.”

Chimney just chuckles and shakes his head, “Could’ve fooled me.” He pushes himself off the railing and walks further on into the kitchen, moving towards the coffee machine.

You stand there stewing about chimneys comment when the alarm on the side of the station wall starts ringing.

“Medic Unit needed…unconscious woman at Jameson Park.”

Chimney grins as he pours his coffee, “You two are handing the ambulance today—Bobby’s orders, not mine.”

You and Eddie share a look, “Looks like our shift just got started.” He mutters under his breath.

His tired demeanor quickly fades as he starts to move out of his seat, setting his now empty coffee cup on the counter.

The two of you quickly make your way down the loft stairs to the main floor of the station, Chimney watching the both of you leave.

“Please don’t kill each other before anyone’s been rescued!” He calls out to you both jokingly.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, not even bothering to respond to Chimney. The two of you climb into the ambulance, you hop in the passenger seat as Eddie starts it up. Swiftly pulling out of the station and driving towards the park.

The drive to Jameson Park is done mostly in silence, with both of you far too focused on getting to the scene to start getting snappy with each other. You can feel the remaining tension from your earlier argument bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment though.

After a few minutes, the familiar area of the park comes into view. Eddie turns off the road and down into the park, the ambulance soon pulling up to the scene.

You immediately jump out, rushing over while Eddie quickly trails behind.

A small crowd of people gathered around a young woman sitting on a nearby park bench. She is sitting slumped over, looking dazed and confused.

Both of you quickly set to work, Eddie kneeling down in front of the woman to check her over while you start asking questions.

“What happened?” You ask the group, trying to get a general idea of the situation.

“We were just walking through the park, and suddenly she collapsed.” A young man in the crowd explains, his voice filled with worry. “She’s been kinda sick for the last few days, like uh a fever and some cramps but that—oh, and red eyes!”

You nod before glancing down at the woman.

“Are her pupils responsive?” You question, squatting down beside Eddie.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye as he checks the woman over

“They’re sluggish,” Eddie mutters, turning his gaze back to the young woman. “Ma’am, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

The woman raises her head slowly, her gaze unfocused and confused. She looks around her surroundings, her body swaying slightly as she tries to focus her vision.

Finally, her eyes fall on Eddie, and she looks up at him, her voice rough and raspy as she speaks.

“Huh…w-where I am?”

Eddie’s brow creases together in concern as he continues to check her over. It’s clear that whatever’s wrong with her is serious, and you guys need to act quickly.

“You’re in Jameson Park. You’ve just had a fall.” He responds, his voice firm. “We’re here to help you, alright? What’s her vitals?”

“Fever’s getting pretty bad…” You mutter, checking her temperature. “Blood pressure is through the roof, pupils are fully dilated and she’s struggling to focus. We need to get her to a hospital ASAP.”

Eddie nods in agreement, his expression tense, “Alright, ma’am, we’re going to have to take you to the hospital, all right? We need to get you checked out and taken care of.”

The woman nods slightly in response, her body still swaying as she struggles to stay conscious.

“I, uh, don’t feel very good-” She manages to mutter, her voice slurred and weak.

You two get her safely secured on the stretcher and roll her towards the back of the ambulance.

“I’ll sit back here with her.” You swing the door open, climbing into the back as you carefully pull the stretcher inside.

“Alright, I’ll drive.” He responds with a nod, heading up to the driver’s seat and starting up the engine.

You sit back with the woman on the stretcher, both of you strapped in securely as you watch Eddie begin to drive.

Eddie’s driving is even more focused than usual, weaving through traffic smoothly as he heads to the nearest hospital.

The woman’s breathing starts to become more labored, as both her fever and her heart rate continue to rise. You look up as the IV drips, gently placing the oxygen mask over her face.

“We’re almost there, okay? The doctors will be ready to help you.”

Eddie glances into the rearview mirror, noticing her struggling. He bites his lip, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter as he focuses on the road.

"How's she holding up back there?"

“How about you just work on getting us to the hospital.” You snip at him, more than a little stressed from the current situation.

Eddie glares back at you through the mirror, an annoyed look on his face at your tone.

"I was just asking a question." He responds, his voice strained. "No need to be bitchy about it."

“I’m not being bitchy.” You retort, gesturing towards the woman on the stretcher. “I’m just a little bit focused on our patient if you can’t tell.”

You huff and return your attention to the woman, the air in the ambulance growing increasingly tense.

Thankfully, you see the hospital come into view through the front windshield. A sigh of relief escapes you.

Eddie pulls up outside the entrance of the Hospital’s ER, quickly getting out of the driver’s seat and pulling the ambulance bay door open.

Together, both of you quickly rush the woman into the emergency room, a team of doctors and nurses instantly descending on her to take her in.

You and Eddie stand a few feet back from the action, watching as the hospital medical team takes the woman in and starts to treat her.

Both of you let out a collective sigh.

Eddie glances at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he struggles to hold back his comment. "So... you gonna apologize for earlier, or what?"

Surely he isn’t serious right now.

“And why should I?” you retort instantly, turning your gaze to look back at him. “Last time I checked, I didn’t have anything to apologize for.“

A mocking smile on your lips, your hand comes down on his shoulder as you start outside, “Don’t take everything to heart.”

Eddie scoffs, shrugging off your hand, his face hardening. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He steps closer to you, his voice low and pointed. “Why can’t you be professional for once and just answer a goddamn question without being a smartass?”

“Oh, so it's my fault you can't handle a simple answer?” You fire back, taking a step closer to him, your volume increasing. “And why should I be the one who has to be professional when you're always the one making snide jabs”

Eddie lets out a scoff, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, because you’re always such a goddamn peach to work with.”

He moves even closer, practically towering over you now, irritation clear in his tone. “You’re the one who starts—”

“I am not arguing with you in the emergency bay of a hospital! Just, let’s go.” You storm past him, bumping his shoulder with yours as you climb into the passenger seat.

Eddie stands there for a moment, frustration and agitation written all over his face. He clenches his fists tightly, trying and failing to reign in his anger. After a moment, he lets out a huff and angrily stomps over to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a thud, slamming the door behind him.

The drive back to the station is done in complete silence, with both of you refusing to talk. The tension between you and Eddie is at an all-time high.

Finally, the station comes into view, and Eddie pulls the ambulance back into its space a bit more swiftly than necessary.

Both of you climb out of the ambulance, still refusing to even look at each other. The air between you is electric, full of anger and tension.

As you make your way towards the kitchen loft, you see Buck, Chimney, Hen, and Bobby standing around the island, watching you both with worried looks on their faces.

Bobby steps forward, his face etched with concern, "You two, can I speak with you for a moment?"

His tone is firm, making it clear that this isn’t a request. Both you and Eddie just glare, but neither of you argue, knowing he won’t take no for an answer.

He motions for you both to follow him, leading you to a secluded area away from the others. Both of you silently follow, clearly not wanting to talk but knowing you have no choice.

Bobby turns to face both of you, and his expression is serious, "Listen, I just got a call from the hospital.”

You and Eddie exchange a glance at that. Both of you shift in place, the tension still palpable, but now mixed with a bit of worry as well.

Bobby looks between the two of you, “The woman you brought in…it’s not looking good,” He continues, his voice serious. “They’re doing everything they can, but her condition is critical.”

Both you and Eddie go still at that, the tension in the air being replaced with a sense of worry and regret. Despite your argument, both of you clearly cared about the outcome. Both of you stay silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words.

“The CDC thinks she may have a new strain of Bird Flu.”

Both your eyes widen at that, the gravity of the situation suddenly hitting you full force.

Bird flu?

That’s…that’s a serious, possibly deadly virus.

You glance at Eddie, noticing his expression shift from anger to worry. Both of you stand there in silence, processing the information.

Bobby, noticing your reactions, continues, "The CDC requested blood work to be done on her to bring safe. Until we know for sure, everyone that came into contact with her during that call is going to quarantine as a precaution."

Both you and Eddie nod in understanding, the severity of the situation sinking in even more. If the woman does have Bird Flu, that means you and Eddie were directly exposed.

The tension in the air has shifted, now replaced with an uneasy feeling. Bobby looks between you two, "Until we know for sure what's going on, I need you two to be diligent. Watch for symptoms." He instructs, his voice serious.

“Now, that also means you two will be quarantined here—to minimize the risk of spreading.”

Your heart sinks at that. Being quarantined means being cooped up and separated from the world, unable to do anything except sit and wait. But to make matters worse, now you’re gonna be stuck with Eddie for god knows how long.

You glance at Eddie briefly, noticing the slight look of unease on his face as he registers the same thing.

Bobby continues, noticing your reactions, " I know this isn’t ideal, but this is for everyone's safety."

He pauses for a moment, looking around to make sure the coast is clear, "Listen, I know you two have uh, a complicated relationship. But I need you to set that aside right now." He lowers his voice even further as he says this.

Both you and Eddie shift uncomfortably, knowing exactly what he's referring to. Your argument from earlier is fresh in both of your minds, making the prospect of being stuck together even less appealing.

You nod in understanding, “How long are we going to be quarantined?” You ask, your voice laced with slight irritation.

Bobby winces slightly, knowing that the answer isn't going to be what you want to hear.

"I can't say for sure just yet," he replies, his tone sympathetic. "but hopefully just until the hospital gets her blood results back. I'll keep you both updated as much as I can."

You glance over at Eddie again, only to find his gaze already on you, the same resigned look on his face. He’s just as unhappy about this situation as you are.

“Alright then, come with me. There’s a room set up for you.” Bobby turns and begins to lead the way to the room that’s been prepared for your quarantine.

You and Eddie slowly follow behind Bobby, walking in complete, awkward silence.

As you two arrive at the room, you both give it once over. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do for the time being—

Wait.

Why the hell is there only one bed?!

Both your and Eddie’s eyes widen as you see the single bed in the room, leaving no other sleeping option.

Bobby winces at your reaction, his hand coming down on your shoulder. “Trust me, kid, I tried to find another solution, but this is all I could manage on short notice.”

You exchange a glance with Eddie, a mix of annoyance and trepidation on both of your faces.

You’ve gotta be joking.

“I know it's not ideal," Bobby says, his voice sympathetic. “But you'll have to make do."

He glances between the two of you, his expression turning a bit more stern. “I don’t want any fighting or arguing in there, you hear me? You two need to get along and work together until this quarantine is up.”

You and Eddie glare at each other for a moment before silently nodding, knowing that you don’t have a choice in the matter.

Bobby gives a satisfied nod, “Alright then, I'll let you two get settled in. I'll come check on you both soon.”

With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The silence is deafening as both of you stand awkwardly on either side of the bed. The only sound is the hum of the air conditioning unit.

Eventually, you speak up, breaking the silence. “Hopefully we’re outta here before either of us get tired.”

Eddie lets out a huff, clearly still irritated about the situation, "Yeah, no kidding." He stands there for a moment, hands on his hips, looking around the small room.

You take a few steps of your own, trying to find something, anything to occupy yourself. You walk over to the window and pull out your phone. While leaning against the cold wall, you aimlessly scroll through your phone to try to pass the time.

Meanwhile, Eddie takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his face still showing his agitation. He’s clearly not happy about the situation either, but he’s restraining himself from saying anything. He rubs his hands over his tired face.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the tension in his shoulders. It's clear that he's fighting to keep his emotions in check, just like you are.

The silence between you both continues to stretch out, the only sound being the soft tapping of your fingers on the screen of your phone.

Tap…tap tap…tap

Tap tap…tap…tap tap

Tap—

“Oh my God! Do you even realize how loud you’re being?” Eddie spits out

You look up at his sudden outburst, taken slightly aback by his irritation. You hadn’t realized you were being loud with your phone.

“Wow…excuse me, for trying to amuse myself.” You retort back, your annoyance rising. “It’s not my fault there’s nothing to do in this damn room.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at your response, his agitation growing further. “It’s like you’re purposefully trying to piss me off.”

You scoff at that, feeling your own irritation spike. “Did you just hear yourself? You actually sound insane.”

Eddie lets out a bitter laugh, the sound laced with contempt. “I don’t know. You seem to find pleasure in annoying me at every turn.”

“You are one of the most sensitive—” You volley back, your own irritation flaring up.

“Sensitive? That’s rich coming from you.” Eddie shoots back, his voice rising in volume. “You’re the one who’s always losing their temper and lashing out like a child.”

You feel your anger, at least you think it’s anger—to be fair, you can’t really focus on much when Eddie’s looking at you like this—reach a breaking point.

“Speaking of child—don’t you have one you need to call to inform of your condition—or did that just slip your mind.”

Eddie goes still at the mention of Christopher, his expression turning instantly cold. His jaw clenches tightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

He stands up in one swift motion, towering over you. “You really want to bring him into this?” His voice is sharp, laced with warning.

“I’m just saying, you have more important priorities than arguing with me.” You click your phone off and set it by the window, giving Eddie your undivided attention.

Eddie’s gaze hardens even further, his eyes like a storm. “I don’t need you telling me how to handle my own goddamn life.”

He takes a step closer to you, his body tense with anger. “You have no idea what it’s like to be me, so don’t you lecture me about talking to my son.”

You don’t even get the chance to speak before he continues, “—And, wha-what gives you the right to tell me what I should do? You’re not my boss, and you’re damn sure not my keeper.” Eddie’s voice is seething now, his anger palpable in the air.

You glare up at him, “I’m not trying to be your damn keeper, Eddie. I’m just pointing out that you need to handle your own life before coming at mine!”

You jab a finger into his chest, pushing him back slightly. “And if you don’t want me ‘poking my nose’ into your life, maybe you should stop being so damn infuriating all the time!”

Eddie’s expression turns cold, his gaze fixated on you. He looks...

Dangerous.

“You want me to stop being infuriating?” He steps closer again, forcing you up against the wall. He cages you with his arms, his face just a few inches from yours.

Your heart is racing now, the intensity behind his brown eyes and the close proximity sending you into a frenzy. You’re hyperaware of everything:

The heat of his body…

The strain of his muscles…

The scent of his cologne…

He leans in further, his voice a mere whisper now. “Maybe you should find another way to shut me up.”

You can’t hold back anymore, the tension too high, “I’ll kiss you if that's what it takes to shut you up.”

Eddie goes completely still, the shock of your words washing over him. He stares at you intently, his eyes darkened and searching.

"Do it then." He challenges, his voice low, a mix of warning and need behind his words.

Your heart is racing even faster now, the challenge in his tone sends a thrill through you. You know this is a bad idea, horrible really, it’ll only lead to more trouble, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You don't wait for him to second guess himself. You surge forward, your own need and desire taking over. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull his face down to you. Your lips crash against his in a hungry, urgent kiss.

Eddie gasps in surprise at your sudden attack, but he quickly recovers and returns the kiss with equal fervor. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, pressing you against the wall.

His mouth moves against yours with a mix of aggression and passion, his tongue slipping between yours to deepen the kiss.

The intensity between you both is like fire, burning up everything in its path. There's no more anger, no more animosity...just pure, unbridled desire.

Eddie's hands roam over your curves, seeking out every inch of skin he can find. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The kiss turns more frantic, more desperate. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip, and he groans in response, the sound sending heat straight to your core.

His hips press against yours, pinning you fully to the wall. His hands slide under your shirt, fingers tracing your skin.

You shiver at the feel of his calloused fingers against your bare skin. You gasp as his mouth leaves yours to trail down your neck instead, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down to your collarbone.

He sucks softly on your pulse point, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Your head falls back against the wall, a moan falls from your lips.

His hands continue to roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip. He seems determined to drive you completely crazy, and it's working.

His mouth moves back up your neck to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “You wanted to shut me up,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. He nips at your earlobe, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot straight through you.

You whimper in response, your body thrumming with need and desire. “Yo-You’re an a-ass.” You manage to gasp out, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control.

But it’s a losing battle, you both know it.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, ya know? Someone should teach you what to do with it.” Eddie spits out, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Your heart races at his words, the implication behind them clear. But your own stubbornness flares up, refusing to give him the upper hand.

You stare up at him, your gaze just as intense as his. “Oh yeah?” You retort, trying to sound defiant. “I’d like to see you try.”

Eddie's eyes darken even further, the challenge in your voice spurring him on.

He grabs the edge of your shirt and yanks it up, pulling it over your head in one quick motion. Your (f/c) laced bra sticks out like a sore thumb to him against your flushed complexion. His eyes roam over your newly exposed skin, appreciation clear in his gaze.

“I’m going to make you eat those words.” Eddie growls, his hands roaming over your exposed skin once again. His touch is everywhere—hot and needy.

He dips his head back down to your neck, his mouth working at your sensitive flesh. He sucks and nips at your skin, leaving behind a trail of marks that will no doubt be visible later.

You gasp and moan under his ministrations, your body responding to his touch with a ferocity that surprises even you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, wanting-needing more of his touch.

His mouth moves down to your chest, his lips and tongue trailing over your collarbone

He pushes your bra straps off your shoulders, his mouth following the movement of the fabric. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brush over your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric.

You let out another gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as your body trembles under his touch. “E-Eddie,” you gasp

“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Eddie teases in your ear, his voice low and rough. “Where’s that sharp tongue now?”

“Bite me.” You snip at him

“I mean, if you’re offering.”

True to his words, he sinks his teeth into the fleshy skin of your left breast. The sensation shoots right to your core as you gasp out in response. He soothes the bite with his tongue, before moving over and repeating the same action on the other.

His hands continue their exploration of your body, fingers trailing over your sides and hips before toying with the button on your pants.

Your breathing is coming in ragged gasps now, your body on fire under his touch. Every brush of his lips, every bite of his teeth, stoking the flames higher and higher.

He finally undoes the button and pulls your pants down, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes roam hungrily over your exposed body. “God, you’re beautiful.” He mutters, his voice thick with honesty.

He presses his body against yours, the heat of his skin palpable against your own. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, the evidence of his own desire making your own need even more intense.

“I’m going to make you scream.” He promises, his voice a low, dangerous growl against your ear.

You can’t help but shiver at his words, your mind unable to form a coherent response. Your body is completely at his mercy now, every nerve ending on fire.

He captures your lips in another fierce, desperate kiss. His tongue slides between your lips, tasting and exploring.

He pushes one of his thighs between your legs, applying pressure against your heat. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips rolling against him involuntarily.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you tight as he continues to kiss you, his mouth moving over your face and neck.

Eddie spins you away from the wall and shoves you down onto the bed, his body following close behind. He towers over you, his eyes dark and intense as he looks down at you.

He reaches back and pulls off his own shirt and pants, revealing the toned muscles and tan skin underneath. He lowers himself down on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress.

You’re completely engulfed in him now. Surrounded by his warmth, his scent, his presence.

His hands roam over your body, his touch is rougher now, less restrained. He grabs your wrists, pinning them to the mattress above your head. His eyes are still dark, his expression filled with complete lust.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he mutters, voice low and dangerous. “Not by a long shot.”

He nips and bites his way down your neck, his tongue tracing the marks he left there. His hands move back down to your hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your underwear.

Eddie looks up at you. “Lift your hips.” He orders, his voice making you shiver.

You obey, lifting your hips as he instructs. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and slowly—achingly slow—pulls them down your legs.

He leans back down, his mouth trailing along your inner thighs. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart.

He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive as it fans against your soaked center. “All mine.”

Eddie…Eddie dives in like a man who’s been starving.

He attacks you with his mouth, his tongue and lips claiming you with fervor. You cry out, arching your back as the sensation of his mouth causes your eyes to momentarily roll back.

His hands keep your thighs held firmly in place, his grip tight. “Oh god,” you gasp, your hands clenching onto the bed sheets. “Eddie, please! Ah, I can’t—”

“You can,” he mutters against your sensitive flesh. “You will.”

you can’t help but moan deliriously out as his teeth gently nip at your sensitive bud. Your body jerks at the sensation, your hips straining against his grip. “Ed—please. I need—” your voice trembles as you gasp out.

He pushes himself up, his body hovering over yours once again. “Tell me.” He orders. “Tell me what you need.”

You’re breathless, your mind reeling from his assault. You can hardly form a coherent thought, “Y-you,” you gasp out, looking up at him. “I need you. Now, please…please, Eddie…I can’t take it anymore.”

His expression becomes even darker, his eyes almost black with desire. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he growls out.

He moves quickly, pulling off his underwear as he leaves himself exposed to you. It’s not fair really—how it looks like Eddie was carved by Michelangelo himself. You feel your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of him.

He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked with yours. “Look at me.” He says, his voice a low command.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. His eyes are full of need, of desire, of a primal hunger that makes your body shiver. Not to mention his face is covered with your juices—that’s really, really hot.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. You’ve got no idea.” He mutters, his voice rough with desire. “You drive me crazy, you’re all I can think about. Even when I don’t want to.”

“Oh, fuck me.” You gasp out at Eddie’s admission

You hear him softly chuckle, his light stubble rubbing against your skin, “That’s the plan.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, his eyes dark and intense, before finally lowering his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss.

You respond immediately, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the fire and need coursing through your body.

You can feel him press against you, his body strained and tense. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

His breathing is ragged as he looks down at you, “Promise me something.” He mutters, his eyes suddenly serious.

“Anything,” you breathe out, your body thrumming with need. “Just tell me.”

"Promise me you're mine," he growls out, his voice low and rough. "I want you to be mine, and no one else's." He pushes himself against you, his body barely restraining its own need.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. You can see the raw emotion in his gaze—

“I’m yours,” you breathe out, your voice shaky. “I’m all yours, Eddie. No one else’s.”

His eyes flash with something that looks a lot like satisfaction at your words. “Good,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Because I didn’t plan on sharing.”

He wastes no time thrusting in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as your walls flutter around him.

You gasp out at the sudden intrusion, your body arching up against his. “Oh god, Eddie,” you gasp, the pleasure shooting through your body. “Little warning next time.”

Next time…

He lets out a low groan, his own body taut with need. He buries his face in your neck, “You feel so good,” he mutters, his voice low. “Like you were made for me.”

His thrusts are deep and slow, but the need behind them is undeniable. He’s claiming you, marking you as his own, and it only intensifies the pleasure coursing through you.

“You’re mine,” he growls out, his grip on your hips tightening. “You hear me?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, your body quivering beneath him. “Yours, only yours, Eddie! Oh god, don’t stop!”

He doesn’t respond, his focus completely on you and the pleasure coursing through your body. He leans down and captures your mouth in another rough kiss.

His thrusts pick up speed, becoming rougher, harsher.

You moan into his mouth, your hands roaming over his body, before seeking refuge in his soft dark hair. Your body is on fire, your insides clenching and tightening with every movement he makes.

“Eddie! Ah, oh god…I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he mutters against your lips. “Not until I say.”

He changes the angle of his thrusts, hitting you in just the right spot. Your body jerks in response, a guttural moan escaping your lips as your hips roll against him. “Oh god, Eddie! Please, I can’t hold on much longer!” You gasp out, your body quivering with need. He looks down at you, his pupils dark and blown.

“A little longer,” he mutters, his voice strained. “I’m close, so close…Me vuelves loco, pero Dios, cuánto te amo.”

You have no relative idea what he said, but ho-ly shit…You think you’d pay money to hear Eddie speak like that again.

“Eddie!” you cry out, your body arching up against his.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Let go,” he growls. “Let go, and say my name.”

You come apart, your body tightening and clenching around him as the pleasure engulfs you. “Eddie, Yes, yes, oh god, Eddie!” You moan out, your words becoming unintelligible as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles underneath him, your vision going white.

Eddie’s close behind, his body tensing as he follows you over the edge, quickly pulling out and finishing your stomach.

“Ugh, fuck (y/n)…tan perfecto...todo mío.”

For a moment, it’s almost as if you two become one; your bodies, breaths, and heartbeat falling into an almost perfect synchronicity.

“God. you’re so good for me, look at how much you came.”

You lay underneath him, your body trembling and spent. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, his body still trembling from his own release.

A few moments pass before he speaks, his voice rough. “You okay?” he asks, his eyes searching your face.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, your body still quaking from your climax. “That…that was…”

You can’t continue, your brain is too fried to form a coherent sentence.

He lets out a low chuckle at your response, pushing himself up to look down at you. “I take it I did alright?” he asks, a hint of cocky confidence in his voice.

“Shut up,” you playfully grumble, smacking his chest lightly.

He laughs at your response, his cocky smirk still firmly in place. “Oh come on, give me a little credit. You didn’t seem too disappointed.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but you can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie’s phone light up.

He follows your gaze, his expression becoming a little more serious. “Hold on,” he murmurs, rolling and reaching over to grab his phone off the bedside table.

He looks down at it, his expression becoming even more serious as he reads whatever message he received.

“It’s Bobby.”

“Everything okay?” you ask, sitting up in the bed. The mention of Bobby’s name instantly puts you on alert.

“Yeah, it’s just—” he stops for a moment, his expression unreadable. “The girl we took to the hospital, her blood test came back negative. We’re uh, we’re good to go.”

“Oh…well that’s good, right?” You nervously start, rubbing your hands together anxiously. “We don’t have to stay in here anymore—”

“I just,” he stops abruptly, his brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t wanna go back to how we were.”

Your breath hitches at his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice quiet.

“I mean,” he looks up at you, his eyes dark and serious. “I want this. I want you. I don’t wanna just go back to pretending like nothing happened.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at his words, your (e/c) eyes widening in surprise. “You-you do?”

“I do,” he says, voice firm. “I’m all in. I want you. I don’t wanna keep running or pretending, or whatever the hell we’ve been doing. I wanna be with you, really be with you.”

Your heart clenches at his words, tears pricking at your eyes. “I…me too,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I want that too. I want to be with you, in every way possible.”

Eddie lets out a sigh, the tension in his body easing slightly at your words. “Good,” he mutters, moving closer to you in the bed. He pulls you into his arms, his hands running soothingly up and down your back.

You lean into his touch, your body relaxing at the feel of his skin against yours. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you speak up. “Hey, Eddie?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Yeah?” he responds, his hand still running soothingly over your back

“You don’t…you don’t think the others heard us…right?”

[bekolxeram]

I'm late to the party I know, but I need to learn how to make gifs first. I actually find the Bucktommy dinner scene a bit awkward, but not because they "lack chemistry" or the "flirting is problematic". It's not supposed to be just a cute bonus scene, it's engineered to stuff as much information as possible into mere 55 seconds. Here is my read on it:

The good old always at the hospital joke, probably just Tommy trying to lighten the mood after such a hectic day for the 118, but mainly a set up for the next part.

Buck does not see the humor in it, he seems upset.

Tommy has apparently gotten to know Buck enough at the stage to immediately clock it, and under all the dark humor and sarcasm, he does actually care about Buck's feelings.

The scene of Buck and Eddie in the hospital room with Bobby ends up on the cutting room floor, we've only got that one shot of teary eyed Buck when he breaks the news to Eddie at his house, so this is the first time in the episode Buck gets to express his fear of losing Bobby, his father figure.

And here we are, controversial moment number 1. There isn't much context attached to this line, so viewers interpret it differently. I'm in the minority camp that thinks Tommy is being serious here, Lou's delivery makes it seem like Tommy says this out of concern. I believe it's a call back to this line from the medal ceremony:

Here Buck is talking about Phillip the same way Tommy and Chimney (possibly Hen too) talk about Gerrard: like he's dead. Tommy is probably wondering if Phillip is another Gerrard situation, and he invites Buck to talk about it if he wishes to.

Buck gives a humorous but one word answer, so Tommy gets that he doesn't want to get too deep into it.

From this line on, it's a set up for the Gerrard reign of terror in S8. Tommy reiterates the jealousy he mentioned in 7x04, that he wants to become a part of the 118 family, which he only had a little taste of before he left to become a pilot.

Tommy backstory crumb. Buck and Phillip at least see each other at family functions, Tommy doesn't have a relationship with his dad at all. Judging by the medal ceremony, he doesn't seem to have any family left.

It confirms Gerrard as the anti-Christ anti-Bobby. Buck becomes the person he is because of Bobby, while Tommy behaved the way he did in the 3 begin episodes because of Gerrard. It acknowledges Tommy's toxic ways back in the days, but as we can see by the time Bobby became captain of the 118, Tommy was already on friendly terms with Chimney and Hen, we might have a chance to see the transformation in between next season. I've heard that season 7 is supposed to be a soft relaunch of the entire series, so maybe Gerrard is a good plot device to make new viewers understand the positive influence Bobby has on the firefam.

Classic deadpan humor from Tommy, Buck gets the message that he wants to keep the conversation lighthearted.

Now Buck has the power to decide which direction he's leading the conversation into, and he gives us controversial moment number 2, he brings up daddy issues and makes it horny. Look at his smirky face, he's definitely not trying to have a serious chat about father complex. He's the one who starts flirting, not Tommy, and it shows us unlike the nervous fumbling at the beginning of their relationship, Buck is now comfortable enough to initiate flirting.

Tommy can't say no to that face, so he flirts back, but it can also be interpreted as him being in denial of his obvious daddy issues. More conflict and angst for S8?

More flirting. Boy's got rizz towards all genders. He basically admits he might have "daddy issues" in a sexual connotation.

Now comes THE controversial moment of the scene, if not the episode. I've seen people online bashing Tommy for "making it sexual" (Buck did), "interrupting a meaningful conversation to satisfy his daddy kink" (no one is actually talking about any kink), or even "exploiting Buck's trauma to put him in an inferior role in a dom/sub relationship" (What? That's not what d/s is about).

I raise you the point that the word "daddy" is no longer some kind of kink exclusive lingo. This word has entered the popular zeitgeist the last couple years, and now it basically just means a sexy older man. I bet the daddy kink thing doesn't even cross the mind of most of the GA, they just take it as Tommy hoping Buck find this older man sexy. I think we might have collectively read too many smutty fanfics, that's why we all immediately jumped to the very extreme of the kinkiness spectrum when it comes to this scene.

Conclusion, the dialog in this scene may not sound natural, but that's not the point. This scene is in fact, an infodump. Kudos to the actors for making it cute.

[wannabanauthor]

I feel like Season 1 Buck would have been absolute menace if he met Tommy.

Buck is a natural flirt, and Tommy didn’t come out until after he left the 118, so I know that they would have had a hot and messy fling.

I’m betting it would have taken them a week at most before they started hooking up. Maybe Buck promises to stop stealing the engine for sex if Tommy gives him a helping hand. And Tommy benefits because he gets to hook up with a hot guy.

But real life emotions and feelings arise, and they both don’t know how to handle it. Tommy starts getting jealous because Buck is a huge flirt, and Buck is realizing that sex with Tommy isn’t just sex anymore. It’s something more, and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He’s straight but enjoys sex with a guy.

Tensions arise, and maybe they get in a fight after working on a stressful call. Tempers flare, and it becomes a yelling match that the entire station is witness to. And they’re not even speaking to each other at the end of the shift.

Buck decides to yield first and drives to Tommy’s house that same night.

When Tommy answers the door, Buck is too distracted by how good Tommy looks in civilian clothes to have a proper conversation.

He just walks inside staring at Tommy and kisses him passionately. They don’t talk, not really. They use their mouths for other more pleasurable things.

It’s different this time. There’s a tinge of desperation and the fact that they don’t want to talk about what’s really bothering them.

Once they’ve thoroughly exhausted themselves, Buck is on his side facing Tommy while Tommy is on his back staring at the ceiling. Buck strokes Tommy’s face, and when Tommy looks at him, Buck pulls him closer and kisses him so tenderly.

They don’t know what to say to each other, so they just kiss, reveling in how good it feels to kiss just for the sake of kissing.

Buck’s gone by the time Tommy wakes up, and Tommy doesn’t bother to reach out.

During their next shift together, they avoid each other as much as possible. The rest of the team already expected this since their fight, so it’s not awkward.

Bobby takes notice, but he can’t figure out exactly what it is. One day he calls Tommy into his office and notifies him of a transfer opportunity. Tommy accepts without hesitation, but it only worries Bobby more.

Word gets around, and Buck is the last one to find out. He’s hurt, really hurt, but he can’t say anything on shift. Afterwards, he drives straight to Tommy’s house and confronts him.

It’s awkward when Tommy opens his door to Buck looking so defeated and miserable.

“So you weren’t going to tell me?” Buck asks.

Tommy rubs his own face, clearly not ready for this conversation.

“It would have been nice to find out from you rather than our coworkers,” Buck continues. “Is it because of me?”

Tommy is too guarded to properly have this conversation.

“It’s not about you, Buck,” he says and his face is blank.

Buck looks crestfallen. “Fine, I get it. We were just having fun, right?”

“I can’t do this with you right now,” Tommy says. Yes, he’s a coward. But it’s better to be a coward than to be a gay guy who’s falling hard for his young himbo coworker/fuck buddy.

Buck nods, and there’s a mixture of hurt and anger on his face. “Okay,” he replies, feeling super defeated and deflated. “Do what’s best for you. Maybe you’ll find whatever it is you’re looking for there. I want you to be happy, even if it’s away from me.”

Buck leaves after that, and Tommy breaks down crying in his kitchen.

Buck’s tears don’t even wait for him to get into his Jeep. Everything is blurry by the time he starts it up, but he wipe his eyes and drives off.

That night he’s in bed staring at the ceiling of his loft, wondering if he made a mistake in letting Tommy go.

Sadly, Tommy is wondering if he also made a mistake of letting Buck go.

To be continued…

I’m exhausted, and my eyes are closing, and I have no more ideas on how to continue this idea for a happy ending at the moment, so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow or later. Good night.

[firewasabeast]

I made a little bucktommy fic based off of this post from yesterday (read here or on ao3)

Husbands

There had been a big fire, taking out the top eight floors of a high rise. There were multiple stations involved, including the 118 and Harbor, ground and air support, to get the fire under control and everyone out safely.

It took more than a few hours, but eventually the fire was out and everyone was getting their gear in order to head back to their respective stations.

As Buck organized the tools in the truck, a small group of friends, two guys and two girls, in their mid-twenties Buck assumed, gathered around him.

It had started with little comments; a guy asked what the axe was used for, a girl batted her eyelashes as she touched his turnouts because she “always wondered what the material felt like”, another girl asked how much water could be stored in the truck.

Buck liked talking. He liked answering questions and telling people what he did. He leaned against the firetruck as they chatted, until about five minutes in one of the guys sighed and got to the point. “We're honestly just wondering if one of us could get your number? Or all of us. Doesn't really matter.”

Buck paused. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy getting hit on. He enjoyed it quite a bit, actually. It was always nice to know when someone found you attractive.

Getting hit on was fun. Getting people's numbers was fun. But, there was something else that was even funner now. He'd been able to do it for exactly three months, to the day. Not that he wasn't flashing his ring beforehand, but something about being married sounded even better than being engaged.

“Sorry, guys,” Buck said, smiling as he lifted his left hand into view, “Im flattered, but I'm married.”

As some disappointed, and some still interested, looks broke out over the group, a familiar voice sounded behind Buck. “Damn, I was just about to shoot my shot.”

A blush rose on Buck's face as Tommy passed by. He was working ground ops today, and Buck knew he was around, but this was the first he'd seen of him. “Yeah, you wish, Kinard,” he called back, causing Tommy to turn back around to him.

He shrugged, smirking. “A guy can dream, can't he?” he asked with a wink, continuing backwards toward his truck.

It was only once Tommy was out of view that Buck realized the group was still there, staring between Buck and the direction Tommy went with confusion on their faces.

“Oh, uh, that- that's my husband.”

His smile grew as he watched the realization hit the group. They didn't stand a chance.

“Forget it,” one girl mumbled as they all started to disperse.

“They're both so hot, what the hell?” one guy whispered, albeit loudly, to his friend.

“And unbelievably corny,” the friend said back, not even trying to be quiet. “Makes me wanna gag.”

Buck rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he pushed himself up from where he was leaning on the firetruck. He began walking in the direction Tommy had gone, needing to see him before his station left.

“Get any numbers, hot stuff?” Tommy's voice made Buck jump. He was situated between two trucks and, from the looks of it, had just finished pouring a bottle of water over his head to clean himself off.

Buck's shoulders relaxed as he walked over to Tommy. “No, I did not,” he said cheekily. “You wanna know why?”

“Hmm?”

“Because my husband interrupted. He didn't say it, but I got the feeling he wants to keep me to himself.”

“The nerve of that guy.” Tommy moved closer to Buck, his hands coming up to grip onto the sides of Buck's turnouts. “Can't say I blame him though.” He spoke quietly, staring between Buck's eyes and lips, “He does have a really hot husband.”

Buck put his hand at the nape of Tommy's neck, closing the space between them as he pulled him in for a kiss. He had no concern for the fact he was getting soot right back on Tommy's clean face. Payback.

“Can you bring your turnouts home?” Buck asked, leaning back just enough to speak.

Tommy laughed, his face scrunching up into that deep smile that made Buck melt. “This really does something for you, doesn't it?”

“Every damn time.”

Another kiss, this one slower and softer. A promise of what's to come when they're both off shift in a few hours. “I'll figure out a way.”

[mnnuni]

Marked

Summary: (Y/N)'s relationship with Buck and Eddie is discovered.

Words:

Warnings: smut

Buck and Eddie's relationship was still kinda a secret for the public eye; well kinda because they weren't sure of sharing it yet but they weren't subtle at all with those shared looks and hidden touches. The 118 all knew about them, they were only waiting for them to have the courage to tell them.

The crew of firefighters was so proud of themselves for figuring it out: Hen brought it up one night when they were hanging out at Athena and Bobby's house and the two men conveniently left early together.

"I name it, they're totally involved" Chimney was a little confused, "what do you mean? Of course they are, they're best friends"

Athena smacked him around the head "What Hen means is...", she was thinking of a way of saying it nicely "they get each other steam off" finished Bobby. Hen and Athena nodded, the five different expressions that passed through Chimney's face were hilarious to Maddie "I can't believe you didn't notice".

What they all also didn't notice was that that night there was another person absent: their girlfriend, (Y/N).

She was way more private than them at the station, because she saw how Eddie and Buck acted around each other and let's just say even a blind could catch that they were in love; that's why she was never too close to them to be suspected. When Hen asked her about her romantic life she said "they" and "them", but everyone just assumed it was just a person who would go by these pronouns not that there were actually two people.

(Y/N) also knew that her boyfriends had their fair shares of problems with their closets and she surely wouldn't be the one to out them to their family.

The only 118 member who knew was Ravi. Poor kid caught them exiting the same room, still adjusting their uniform. From that moment (Y/N) avoided every contact with them at work and got closer to Ravi too. He was her true best friend.

"so... what are you doing for them tonight?" Ravi asked her while they were cooking for the team, "huh?" (Y/N) said looking at him from the oven; Ravi looked around, making sure no one was watching them and whispered "you know... today's your anniversary, didn't you do something?"

(Y/N) smiled. Today her, Buck and Eddie were celebrating six months officially together. "I can't believe you remembered" she hugged him tight "of course i did, how could i forget?"

It was funny how Buck was flaring his nostrils at the sign of (Y/N) talking with Ravi while he had his hands on her waist. Eddie had to put his hand on his knee, "you know they're only friends" "still..." he rolled his eyes. (Y/N) was actually describing him the details of the dinner she had planned that night; she was so ecxited to finally go out in public with them. Ravi was really happy for her, so happy that at the end of the shift he went to Buck and Eddie and told them to be careful "she really loves you, both of you, don't screw up tonight"

He knew he only made their nerves worse, but he had to because (Y/N) really deserved the world and he knew those two idiots would give her everything she needed. He was still her best friends tough, it was his job to scare her boyfriends.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) only texted them the address. "Dress fancy" the sole indication.

Evan stomach was a mess. Eddie was literally sweating. They decided to get ready together; that didn't help them one bit because after getting nearly late for a too long shower together, they were second-guessing everything.

Their anxiety seemed to stop only when they spotted (Y/N) at the bar in the restaurant. She was wearing a long strapless black dress, her hair were down and naturally curled and her lips were tinted red. Buck had to touch Eddie's hand to make sure he wasn't imagining that wonderful woman in front of them. It was the first time Eddie took his hand in his in a so crowded place and just by this (Y/N) knew this would have been a magical night.

They were seated in a corner in the garden, the table was so small that (Y/N)'s legs touched both Eddie and Buck's ones. It was just how she pictured it would be: the light lights illuminated Buck's freackles ever so gently, the roses'perfume made Eddie scrunch his nose in a way that made (Y/N) want to kiss him everytime and the night breeze was a perfect excuse for them to touch her arms or shoulders constantly because of the fact she was withouth a jacket. And it was even better to see Evan and Eddie actually be confortable to act like a couple all together.

Ravi's words really helped.

When Evan put his coat over (Y/N)'s shoulder as she whispered to them "maybe you should come to mine's for dessert", Eddie's eyes sparkled and Buck's hand on her tightned.

Evan didn't drive so fast even in the truck. The air was filled with anticipation but (Y/N) had decided that because this was a special night it would go slow and good. As a matter of fact, when they entered her flat she really had a dessert ready for them and she took it out of the oven swinging her hips ever so slightly.

"Uhm baby, we thought ehm..." Buck looked at Eddie for support while (Y/N) took three forkes "we hoped for another type of cake" the other man finished. (Y/N) chuckled "don't worry my loves, this cake just needs time" she winked and took a bite of the chocolate pastry; she really knew how to turn on her boys.

"Now, eat. I'll come back in five" with that she went to her bedroom and locked the door. Buck and Eddie could only listen to her and wait. They were under the impression she took more than five minutes because when she came back they finished half the cake and were now kissing on the couch, Eddie said he missed Buck's lips and he surely couldn't deny them to him. They already took off their jacket and were starting to unbutton their shirt when (Y/N) cleared her throat and they departed from each other; she was wearing a silky robe and a devious grin on her face. (Y/N) didn't say anything, only took their hands and guided them in the bedroom.

"Because you were so good tonight accepting to go out with me, I want to make it up to you" and with that she took a rope from the pocket of the robe. The guys were having the time of their lives while she tied them to the headboard, she put them in a way they could touch each other's hands, like a way to compensate the fact they couldn't touch her. When she was done (Y/N) finally took off her robe.

"Holy shit" Buck breathed out.

She was wearing a red lace bodysuit and garters and with only this sight Eddie and Evan tried to untie themselves. "I'm a firefighter baby, don't even try", Buck's cock twitched in his boxers. (Y/N) got them naked painfully slow and Eddie started to complain; that's why she started working on Evan first.

She kissed him softly on the lips and got down from the neck to the waist licking him, his breath became heavier when she stopped, eyes on his tip. She kissed it too and then put it in her mouth.

"Oh God". Evan really liked when she worked her magic on him this slowly; Eddie next to him could only focus on her ass and be satisfied but when her hand touched his leg and started going near his balls he grunted. (Y/N) smirked on Evan's cock and he pushed his hips up. She was bobbing her head up and down faster and stroking Eddie's dick too, so fast they were both moaning.

"I-I'm cuming" Evan was practically a mess.

"Come on big boy, you're doing so good"

Hearing Eddie praise him was the last straw; Evan came so hard it made (Y/N) even wetter. When she was done sucking all his cum (Y/N) got up "you're soo good baby" she caressed Buck's cheeck and turned to Eddie "want a taste?", he nodded excited. Buck was trying to catch his breath while (Y/N) straddled Eddie's lap to kiss him. She tasted of Buck. (Y/N) lowered herself on him and Eddie moaned in the kiss at the feeling of his girlfriend pussy on him.

"It's your turn to fell good now honey"

(Y/N) unzipped her bodysuit at a slow pace and while she cupped one of her breast for show, she finished getting undressed. Buck was quickly recovering already.

She lowered her body on Eddie and started grinding her hips to lube his cock with her wetness; when she picked his dick in her hand and came down on it Eddie almost cried out loud. Usually Buck was the loudest, maybe she teased him too much this time. (Y/N) didn't complain tough, hearing her boyfriends moan only added fuel to the fire. Now she was breathing heavily too and really needed their hands on her body, so she leaned over and untied them.

Eddie didn't waste a second and flipped them over to start thrusting into her, "You feel so good mi amor".

(Y/N) tightened her legs to his hips as Buck got in between them to touch her clit. Now (Y/N) was the loudest; she tried to be quite but the stimulation was just too much that she gripped both her boyfriends' shoulder and scratched them. This only made them move faster.

"Come on baby, be a good girl for us"

She whined their names.

"So fucking tight hermosa"

Buck was sucking on her tit while he pinched her clit and made her scream.

It was the best orgasm she ever had, because when she came down her high she felt Eddie's cum on her stomach and it was so fucking hot.

When they got her all cleaned up and ready for sleep -after other two rounds-, (Y/N) told them how grateful she was to have them loving her and kissed them goodnight and Buck and Eddie felt the luckiest guys in the whole world.

-------------------------------------------------------

The next day (Y/N) was the happiest she ever was in at least two weeks (Buck cooked breakfast for her and Eddie made her bag for her) and all the station noticed. Also because she wasn't complaining about anything after one of the most tiring calls of all day;

They were changing in the locker room and Ravi approached her "I'm guessing it went well", she smiled only thinking about it "marvellous" (Y/N) answer.

"What went so good?" asked Hen as she got near them too, "little (Y/N) here had a date"

One of these days she would kill Ravi

"Oh you didn't go out in a while..." intruded Chimney, 'cause of course he would be there too.

"Yeah, that's because it was a special night" she was lost in her locker when Hen spoke again.

"They had a special night too"

"damn"

The confusion on (Y/N)'s face soon washed over when she turned around and understood what they were talking about: at the other side of the room Buck and Eddie were changing their shirt and were unconsciously showing off some big scratches on their back. (Y/N)'s scratches from last night. They were so red and so much; how couldn't they notice?

Then it hit her: they were practically identical, everyone would have known they were from the same person.

At this point every bit of dignity already left (Y/N)'s body when she run off to them.

"put a shirt on, now." She hissed.

Buck was so confused...then he looked at Eddie

"hooly shit". He was fast to cover himself up and Eddie followed him even if he didn't understand yet.

"i May or May not have left some...marks" she tried to say it in the gentlest of ways but the damage was already done.

All of their team was watching them.

-------------------------------------------------------

Ravi thought dinner would have been awkward; he was absolutely fucking right.

Buck, Eddie and (Y/N) were avoiding eye contact with everyone. Hen was waiting for an explanation with a smirk on her lips. Bobby was searching words for a reassuring speech after the inevitable talk, and Chimney was so fucking confused that at some point he bursted "Can somebody talk about it, please?"

(Y/N) looked at Eddie and Buck for permission, if they weren't ready she would have had come up with a lie without questions. They deserved to be out when they felt like it.

But Eddie took Buck's hand in his and started talking "we're together."

Evan felt a rock being left off his stomach, so he then took (Y/N)'s hand and continued "all three of us".

She only smiled at them.

There was a minute of silence when they thought they had made a big mistake, and everything was starting to crumble. But again, Hen spoke "fucking finally"

"Y-you knew?" (Y/N) had to start draw circles on Buck's hand.

"Of you and Eddie? Of course! (Y/N) is... A pleasant surprise" she blushed at this.

"so...you're okay with this?" Eddie was the one to ask the question they feared the most. It was obvious to (Y/N) that the 118 wouldn't have said anything but for two newly queer men... She understood the uncertainty.

"Why wouldn't we?" Chimney answered

"Yeah, you're all happy, that's what matters to us" Bobby finished.

There was another moment of silence after, where everyone was accommodating to the news.

Ravi saw the perfect opportunity to say what he wanted to say for months now: "I knew it first!"

[redocity]

I've been really stuck on Buck having a secret relationship with Bobby's niece. Idk much else for the request it's just been thought recently and I was wondering if you could do something with it. Your writing is insanely good I've loved literally every piece you've written! 💗

PLAYING WITH FIRE — E.BUCKLEY

why did buck always have to fall in love with really complicated people?

buck x bobby’s niece!reader | 1.0k | fluff? | masterlist.

a/n — thank you so much ml, enjoy 🫶

Buck had always been good at compartmentalising.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he buttoned his shirt in the soft glow of the early morning light.

Behind him, you shifted in the bed, a soft smile on your face even in sleep. Your quiet breaths spilled over the pillow, your arm stretching to find the warmth of the spot he was leaving.

He paused, letting his gaze linger on your peaceful form, just for a second.

Bobby Nash’s niece.

Buck exhaled, rubbing his hand over his face.

You’re playing with fire, he thought. And wasn’t that just his specialty?

The fact that Bobby had no idea made the whole thing worse. Or maybe better, depending on how you looked at it. You weren’t just Bobby’s niece; you were like his second daughter, the one he got to raise like he would’ve his own—smart, compassionate, and fiercely independent.

You worked as a trauma counsellor at the hospital, often crossing paths with the 118 during the rough calls.

That’s how him and you met.

And now you were in his bed. How did he end up here?

It hadn’t started as anything serious.

At first, it was just a shared coffee in the hospital cafeteria after his embolism. The kind of conversation that left Buck’s hands shaking and his heart heavy. You’d found him there, in a hospital bed with a cup of black coffee that had gone cold, and offered him a warm smile and a quiet space to unload.

“It’s okay to talk about it,” you’d said gently, your voice like a balm to his frayed nerves.

And for some reason, he had.

From there, it became a habit. You’d meet him for coffee, sometimes under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, other times at a little café a few blocks away. The conversations started out light—music, movies, shared anecdotes about the job. But then they grew deeper. He told you things he hadn’t told anyone else. About Abby, about his parents, about Maddie and Daniel.

You listened. You saw him.

And somewhere along the way, coffee turned into dinner, which turned into stolen kisses in the shadows of parking garages, and eventually nights like this one—ones that ended with skin-to-skin underneath the sheets, with a connection that felt equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

But every time he looked at you, a pang of guilt twisted in his chest.

Bobby.

He’d be furious. No—furious didn’t even cover it. Protective didn’t even cover it. Bobby would see this as a betrayal. You weren’t just family to him—you were his heart, one of the last pieces of a life he’d spent years rebuilding after unimaginable loss.

Buck knew he should tell him. Every time you looked at him with those soft, trusting eyes, the words sat heavy on his tongue. But then you’d smile, and he’d think, Just a little longer. Just a little more time.

Now, as he stood by the edge of the bed, watching you stir, he wondered how much longer he could keep this up.

“Buck?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but there was a warmth in it that made his chest tighten.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly, giving you a small smile, trying to play it cool even though his heart was suddenly pounding.

“You leaving already?”

Your eyes were still half-closed, but there was something undeniably familiar in the way you looked at him, like you belonged here with him.

He stepped toward the bed, sitting on the edge, his fingers brushing over your temple. “I have a shift,”

You nodded, but then your hand reached out, gently pulling him from the nape of his neck down to your lips. "Stay a little longer. Just... a few minutes."

Buck hesitated. It wasn’t like him to linger, to let himself be drawn into something that might complicate everything, but something about you made him want to be selfish, just for once.

He pressed his forehead against yours, letting himself believe—for just a little while longer—that the world outside didn’t exist.

That Bobby wouldn’t find out.

That the fire he was playing with wouldn’t burn everything to the ground.

—

By the time Buck arrived at the station, the weight of the morning was firmly back on his shoulders. He was distracted enough that he didn’t hear Bobby approaching until the older man clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You look like you’ve been up all night,” Bobby said, studying him closely.

“Didn’t sleep great,” Buck pressed his lips together in a smile. He wasn’t completely lying.

Bobby’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t press. “Well, shake it off. We’ve got a long shift ahead. And hey, I invited my niece to come by the station later. Figured it’d be good for her to meet the team properly.”

Buck froze. “Your niece?”

“Yeah,” Bobby said with a warm smile. “You’ve met her at the hospital, right? Smart kid. You’ll like her.”

Buck swallowed hard, his mind racing. “Yeah, I think we’ve crossed paths.”

Bobby didn’t seem to notice the way Buck’s voice tightened. “Great. She’s got the day off, so I told her to swing by around lunch with Athena. Be on your best behaviour, huh?”

Buck nodded numbly, watching Bobby walk away. His stomach churned as he imagined the storm brewing just over the horizon.

You’re playing with fire, Buck, he thought again.

And this time, the flames felt impossibly close.

[kinardbegins]

bucktommy fix it idea:

tommy hears from someone that a spot at the 118 is opening up soon and he fears that buck is leaving. he's worried, thinking something's really wrong, wondering if it was his fault, and once again he finds himself bubbling buck.

he never sends the message though.

over the next few days, he tries to bring up the 118 with his coworkers, hoping someone else has more information. they all say the same thing: someone is leaving the 118.

tommy wants to ask eddie about it but, ever since tommy and buck broke up, eddie's been distant. it wasn't long until they'd stopped talking entirely. same with the others. eventually, though, someone has new information, and they tell tommy it's "that diaz dude with the kid in texas" that's leaving.

the relief he feels makes him hate himself. it's not buck that's leaving, but it's eddie, and he's relieved. and while it settles that feeling of guilt in his stomach that he screwed over buck that bad, it comes back full force when he realises how buck must be feeling about all this.

again, he finds himself bubbling buck without following through.

and again.

until finally buck sends a text: why do you keep typing but never sending anything?

and despite tommy almost having a heart attack when that notification comes through, he takes a deep breath and sends back: heard about eddie moving. wanna talk?

and talk he does. venting over text turns to ranting over coffee turns to raving over breakfast on his couch. and tommy listens to everything buck says, holding him when necessary, giving him space when needed. and before they know it, they're kissing one day and tommy realises he made a mistake. made several, really, but leaving buck was the biggest of them all.

they pick up where they left off, and eventually they both hug eddie at the airport as he leaves. it's sad, buck's crying, eddie's crying, hell, even tommy's crying, but it's sweet. and once he's gone and the plane is out of sight, tommy holds buck close, promising he'll never leave him again.

[emphasisonthehomo]

Fic Snippet!

Some Ryan POV of the comedy of errors where he doesn't realize that Tommy's gay. Related to Misperception.

•

“How’d you meet your partner?” Ryan asks politely when he and Tommy are sitting around at Harbor.  

Ryan’s just finished re-making fake flight plans for the umpteenth time under Tommy’s watchful eye, and he’d like to talk about something not work related. Now that they’re on a break of sorts Tommy keeps distractedly smiling at his phone. It’s not difficult to guess why. Apparently their anniversary is coming up and they’ve been planning a big trip.

“We met on a call, actually,” Tommy says, looking a little bashful.

“Ooh, a dramatic rescue?” Ryan knows this probably isn’t what happened, but he’s imagining Tommy carrying a beautiful, faceless woman out of a burning building.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Tommy says with a laugh, as if he’s read Ryan’s mind, “So, actually Ev-"

The alarms go off, and Tommy stops midsentence, shoving his phone into one of the pockets on his flight suit as he stands. Ryan wonders for a second what Tommy’s girlfriend’s name is. Evalyn? Eva? But then he has no time to wonder, because they’re prepping to take off.

•

“The 118 is in the news again,” Sylvia says later on, pointing in the direction of the TV. She sounds simultaneously bored and amused.  

Ryan’s in the middle of watering his flowers in Animal Crossing and he glances up at the TV. The breaking news declares LAFD LEFT STRANDED DUE TO EQUIPMENT MALFUNCTION almost gleefully. Sylvia’s statement must have also caught Tommy’s attention, because he wanders closer and squints at the screen. 

“–sources say ladder fully extended during a routine rescue of a cat in a tree–” Tommy says, slowly reading the closed captioning.

Sure enough, at that point the footage swings upwards to show two figures in the basket, the ladder stretched up into a cloudless sky. The camera zooms in shakily, before focusing on a pair of unamused men holding an even more unamused orange cat.

“Oh my god, it’s Eddie and Evan” Tommy starts to laugh, and pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of the TV screen.

“I’m gonna text Lucy and tell her to get her ass over here,” Sylvia says, before turning to Ryan and saying sotto voce, “They both used to work out of that station.”

“I can’t believe it was an actual tree rescue,” Ryan complains, “I never got to rescue any cats from trees.”

All of his pet rescue experiences have been fire related which tends to be… fraught, to say the least. Carrying a terrified and wriggling goldendoodle out of a burning building and almost getting bit for his trouble, for example. The news footage keeps cutting between the scowling firefighters and, thankfully in this case, a very unhappy but very unharmed orange tabby. A cute trio, Ryan will admit. The cat visibly hisses at the white guy holding it. In response the man proceeds to, by all appearances, start lecturing the cat while the other firefighter bursts into laughter.

“It looks like that’s for the best,” Sylvia says, putting her phone down, “When the universe throws you a stereotype, it throws you trouble as well.”

Lucy chooses that moment to arrive and she starts cackling. Tommy’s just standing in front of the TV now, watching as another ladder truck pulls up along side the malfunctioning one. Ryan gets distracted by his video game again. Lucy and Sylvia start talking about their off-shift plans, half paying attention. When Ryan glances up, Tommy’s eyes are still fixed on the screen intently. His arms are crossed. It reminds Ryan of how he looks in the air sometimes. The second ladder basket raises up, and comes to a stop next to the two men. It isn’t until they’ve stepped into it and are slowly lowered back down, that Tommy’s shoulders relax.

“I’m going to give them so much shit for this,” Tommy says, taking his phone back out, and beginning to type away.   

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.

(read on ao3)

**

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.

So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.

He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.

So, they don't have a box. But.

Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.

Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.

Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.

Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.

Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.

There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.

Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.

Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?

Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.

Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.

Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.

It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.

"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.

"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.

"...What was that?"

"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."

—

Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.

He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.

He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.

She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)

"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"

Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.

"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."

Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."

Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."

"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."

Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."

Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."

"Okay, but—"

"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"

"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.

He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.

Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.

His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.

"Mmn...y'know. For being you."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."

"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.

Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.

Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.

"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.

She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.

Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.

The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.

God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.

"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.

"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."

"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.

"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.

Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.

"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."

"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."

The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.

Well. Alright.

"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."

"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"

Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.

Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.

He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.

The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.

"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."

"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.

"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—

"I love you so much," he says in a rush.

"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

[rauspberries]

Hard Day's Work

summary: In which you decide to visit the firehouse for some help and end up walking out with a boyfriend... kind of.

tags: evan buckley x fem!reader, fake dating (kinda), season one evan buckley, evan buckley is a FLIRT

Part two of What a Feeling, could be a stand-alone if you want. WC: 2k+

“Can you mount a TV?”

You hadn’t expected Buck to say yes. You definitely hadn’t expected him to excitedly nod his head, handing over his phone for you to put your number in so that he could visit your apartment after shift. He had apologized profusely for not being able to do it right that moment, claiming that Captain Nash had already been getting on to him for disappearing during shift and he didn’t want to put himself in more hot water. Not even for his fake girlfriend, he had remarked with a playful smirk and a wink that had almost melted you into a puddle right then and there.

Now, you paced in your kitchen, thankful that you had cleaned the entire place before you had lumbered your way over to the 118. The last thing your racing, nervous heart needed was running around your apartment to quickly pick up the laundry you had scattered about and the dishes you had left in the sink. 

The time between getting home and the end of Buck’s shift seemed like forever and even longer. You moved from the kitchen counter to your bathroom floor to the living room couch, doom-scrolling on your phone to try and distract your mind. You went from the opinion that this was stupid, you should text and cancel to the daydreaming of what this could become. A handsome firefighter in your apartment, doing housework that you needed… 

It was a scene out of one of the romance novels you tended to read.

You were brought out of your dumb dream by a few, hestiant knocks on your door, immediately lifting your head. Your heart started thumping against your rib cage again, the same queasy waves of butterflies that had originally sprouted when you got home coming back in full force. Your hands shake as you wipe them on your jeans, getting off of the couch and making your way towards the door.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you run your fingers through your hair once more before pulling the door open, eyes widening as you come face-to-face with Buck’s fist. He had been in the midst of knocking again due to your hesitance to open the door, you notice.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I-I thought you maybe hadn’t heard my knocking, you know, since it was kinda quiet the first time. Uhm.” Buck clears his throat, a soft silence hanging in the air before he raises his arm, the toolbox in his hand clunking at the movement. “I brought my own tools. Didn’t know if you had your own or not. I had to stop by the hardware store for a few things, like a hammer, a drill… Well, honestly, all of it, but it’s okay.” 

He winces at the way he had been rambling, his tongue suddenly feeling heavy in his mouth. He had talked too much. He tended to do that when he was nervous.

You let out a soft laugh, holding the door open a bit wider as you step to the side. You’re glad to see that this situation is just as awkward for him as it is for you. It makes your heartbeat a little bit slower. “Would you like to come in?”

Buck rolls his lips into his mouth to keep himself from speaking any more, nodding as he steps into your apartment. His cerulean eyes take a wide glance around everything, making you feel like you had just split your chest open and revealed everything to him. 

You look around just as he does, wondering what he thinks when he sees your blue couch, so out of place against the white wall it sat against. You deliberate if he thinks the decorative pillows you’ve collected over the years are excessive, or if he’s internally laughing about the stuffed animals that perch in their own respective spots. You almost feel embarrassed by the posters on the wall, the memorabilia from posters and fake street signs covering every inch, until you realize that it’s just a great way for him to get to know you without going through all of the chitchat.

After his initial survey is over, he turns towards you, a ghost of a grin playing on his lips. “I’m assuming the TV you want put up is the one sitting on the box?”

A groan leaves your lips at the idea of how silly it looks, letting the ball of your hand rub into your eye. “That’s the one. And the only one, I promise. Living alone, I only need a TV in my living room, although it does end up with me sleeping on the couch more often than not.”

Buck’s chest rumbles with a low laugh as he steps forward, setting his toolbox on the ground and unlocking it. “It does look like a very comfortable couch. It has a lot of friends on it, too.” The tease falls off of his tongue effortlessly, his eyes finding your face to check and make sure it didn’t pinch a nerve.

Instead, you just laugh, shaking your head as you move into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Don’t people usually give lemonade to construction workers?” You mumble out loud, opening your fridge and peering into it. Again, you’re grateful for your productivity earlier in the day as you eye the fullness of it.

Another chuckle comes from the man behind you, the sound of a drill whirring following. “Are you calling me a construction worker?” He jokes, the light-heartedness having eased the tension of a first meeting.

“Shut up,” you retort. Pulling the gallon of raspberry lemonade you had stored in the fridge, you pour it into two of your nicest glasses, shutting the cabinet quickly so that he couldn’t even attempt to get a glance at all of the funny cups you had collected. 

You carry the glasses around the island just as Buck finishes drilling the mounting bracket into the wall, working a lot quicker than you thought he would. A pang of disappointment hits you directly in the chest at the idea of him leaving both your apartment and your life way too soon. 

“Does this look right?” He asks, looking over at you questioningly before back at the mount. “Even? Is it where you want it? I can move it and fill in the holes with spackle if it’s not right, you just have to let me know.” The worry in his tone has you grinning, letting your mind wander to the incredulous idea that he wanted to come back and do more stuff for you, just to see you again.

Handing him his glass, you shake your head. “It looks fine, Buck. As long as I can see my TV from my couch, I really do not mind where it is,” you add. You look up at him with a smile, heart jolting as his lips pull into a handsome smile.

He breaks the eye contact he had with you as he steps towards the island, setting down his glass before rolling up his sleeve. You admire the tattoos among his forearms as he talks, only to shake your head when you realize you haven’t registered a single thing he said. “Huh?”

Buck laughs knowingly, shaking his head. “I said, will you help me lift? As much as I’d love to do it all by myself so you could sit yourself comfortably on the couch, I can’t hold the whole thing on my own.” He quirks a brow, watching you closely.

You nod dumbly as you set your drink down, rolling up the sleeves on your sweater. “I’m able to do some physical work by myself, I guess.” You groan playfully, crouching down to grab the bottom corner of your TV.

As soon as Buck has his hands on the other side, he counts down from three, both of you lifting until the back of the TV is aligned with the mount he had already drilled into the wall. You hold it silently as he secures it to the mount, only letting go once he gives you a soft nod.

Both of you step back as soon as you confirm that it's sturdy on the wall, hands on your hips as you take it in. Buck had gotten it right the first try. The TV was level, not even slightly dipping on the side, and it hung perfectly fine on her wall. 

Turning to face him, you give him a grin. “We did it.”

“We? Are you sure?” Buck teases, crossing his arms over his chest. You swear he does it just to taunt you, your eyelids fluttering as you look down before immediately looking right back up at his eyes.

“I gave you the lemonade,” you retort playfully. You gesture at the cups on your island, brow quirking in a dare for him to challenge you.

He doesn’t, opting with giving you a playful roll of his eyes. Another soft silence falls over the both of you, neither one wanting to say the words that’d end your time together. It almost makes you want to start breaking stuff, just to ask him to fix it and stay a bit longer so you could pick his brain about everything that was Evan Buckley.

Buck breaks the silence with a slightly sheepish grin, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces you. “I guess that’s it. Unless you have anything else you need help with.” The last bit comes out as a slight purr as he takes a step forward, invading your space as his cologne washes over you. It smells like man, all woodsy and absolutely alluring, especially when it's paired with the way he looks directly into your eyes, staring into your soul.

Unfortunately, you cannot come up with an excuse to keep him there. You shake your head in disappointment, a frown pulling at your lips. “I don’t think so.”

A soft hum of discontent leaves his lips as he somehow gets even closer, his chest just an inch from yours. “That’s a shame.”

“Why?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, the question meek in tone. Something about the way he loomed over you, all six foot two of him, was intimidating, but not in a way that scared you. It was exciting, it was fun. Directness from Buck was frightening, in a way that caused a shiver to travel up your spine. Goosebumps covered your arms so fast that you quickly moved to pull your sleeves back down.

You had never been one to flirt. Men usually came to you, even if they tended to be grimey and gross. Even with that, all it took was a good smile, a few well-timed words and boom. You had ‘em right where you wanted them. But with Buck, it was a game. It was equal attraction, not an ounce more on his side than on yours. It was a competition – who could break first.

His arm raised slowly, fingertips trailing along the back of your hand until he finally cradled your fingers in his palm. “I’d love to spend more time with you,” he admitted. The flirty tone in his voice has your chin tilting up towards him subconsciously, although you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it. You notice that his own head is tilting down towards yours, his nose skirting against yours tauntingly. “I think I just thought of something you could fix. I can’t handle it myself.” You tease, your lips tilting up at the corners in a smile. He urges you on with a raise of his eyebrows, your smile turning into a pout. “My lips. They hurt.” You feel childish saying it, but you brush off the sheepishness as it works.

Buck chuckles quietly, raising his hand and sliding it along your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he cups the back of it. “I can fix that, I think.” His grip tightens as he angles your head back more, making it easy for him to press his lips against yours, dainty and gentle.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 7 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6

Chapter Summary: You and Buck are officially a couple, but it isn't an easy start for either of you.

Word Count: 3k Warnings: none

It’s strange how effortless it is to go from being Buck’s best friend to his girlfriend. Maybe that’s because you’re still best friends, only now, you can make out with each other. Buck being on medical leave is kind of perfect timing, too, because none of your coworkers suspect anything. They aren’t surprised you spend most of your time at his loft. When they wonder how Buck is doing, they ask you; they know you know him best.

“Woah, hey, be careful!”

You and Buck are sitting around his table. Well, you’re sitting at the table, and he’s off to the side, sitting in one chair while another elevates his leg.

You look up at Buck and roll your eyes. “What, you’re gonna sew it back together?”

You’re holding a pair of his navy slacks and ripping apart the left pant leg.

“It doesn’t mean you had to rip them,” he chastises.

You lift up the pants, and you have to admit: it’s not your best work. It’s even, but the edges are frayed.

“Yep, looks terrible.”

“It’ll be fine!” you assure, setting them back down. “We’ll just tuck it in the top of your cast.”

You sit in an uncomfortable silence.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Buck eventually asks.

You sigh. He had a follow-up appointment with the surgeon today, which wasn’t great. Granted, it could have been much worse. The fracture isn’t healing as expected, so he wants to perform another surgery. It wouldn’t be a minor surgery, either — he’d be replacing the rod and using bone grafts instead.

You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. “You already know what I think.”

You and the surgeon think Buck should wait a few more weeks before surgery. Buck, being Buck, disagrees.

“The sooner I have the surgery, the sooner I can get back to work.”

“We’re talking about your ability to walk, Buck,” you say slowly. “We’re talking about your health, your life.”

“No, being a firefighter is my life!” Buck shouts. “It is the only thing I have ever done that was important and that mattered, okay? Without that, I-I don’t have…”

His eyes are red, and his voice is breaking.

“You will still be Buck, okay?” You say, kneeling in front of him. “We’ll all still love you. There are lots of other important things that you can do with your life.”

He stares at you, then looks away and clenches his jaw. “Do you know how hard it is to watch you walk out that door every day? Leaving me behind to just sit here and stare at a wall? Knowing you get to go do the one thing I want to, but can’t?”

You press your lips together. “Buck, I’m sorry, I never thought about it-”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” he interrupts. “I-I want you to keep working. I just want to be working with you.”

You move closer, setting a hand on his face and pressing your foreheads together. “I know. I know you do.”

He reaches up to hold your wrist. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours.

“People assume we choose this life; I'm not so sure. Sometimes, I think this life chooses us.”

Everyone is gathered around foldout tables in the station loft. There are two rows: on one side sits the 118 staff, and on the other side is Eddie’s family. Bobby and Eddie stand in front of everyone.

“For those that answer the call, there can be no doubt, no equivocation,” Bobby continues. “It's not just the lives of those we serve that depend on us, but our own. The lives of our fellow firefighter and first responders. Today, we welcome a new brother into those ranks. After a year of hard work and dedication, I am proud to officially declare that your probationary period is at an end. Welcome to the Los Angeles Fire Department, Firefighter Diaz!”

The two men shake hands as everyone claps and cheers. Christopher stands up and approaches Eddie, offering him his helmet. Eddie picks Christopher up into a hug.

Something draws your eyes to Buck, who’s sitting next to you. He doesn’t see you looking, so you watch as he claps and smiles for his friend.

It’s crazy to think that Eddie’s only been in your lives for a year. In 365 days, he’s become the third closest person to you, right behind Buck and Hen. Something about him, in both a personal and professional sense, fits so perfectly into your life.

Everyone disperses to converse and get lunch from the catering table. Eddie makes his way around the small crowd. Eventually, he makes it to the table where you and Hen are sitting.

Hen pulls him into a sideways hug. “Congrats, Eddie. This is well earned.”

He thanks her and pulls her in a little tighter.

You rise out of your seat and pull him into a hug. You turn your lips to his ear in a whisper. “I’m proud of you.”

Eddie squeezes you tighter. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. For a brief moment, the only thing between your bodies is a held breath.

You separate, but he keeps his hands on your arms. He chuckles and dips his head down.

“What?” You ask, lips curving into a confused smile.

“I’m just… I’m glad I met you.”

You smile warmly as you pat his arms. “Ditto.”

You hear some shouting and laughter. Across the loft, Buck and Chris are playing a game on the TV console. You see Christopher laugh and rest back on the couch while Buck leans forward, pointing at the screen. He gives Chris a gentle push, which makes him laugh harder.

“You two are a thing, aren’t you?”

You turn back to Eddie. You look him up and down. His hands are now buried in his front pockets, and his smile isn't as wide.

You could try faking it, but he’d call you on it in five seconds flat. “We’re that obvious, huh?”

Eddie shrugs a little. “To me, I guess.”

Your smile softens a little.

‘I’m not saying it can never happen.’ The sound of your own words keeps bouncing around your head. You essentially told this man that you could see sharing a life with him… if the timing wasn’t wrong. A strange sensation settles into your stomach. You wonder why it’s the right timing for Buck. You wonder how Eddie feels, knowing he has time to spend with you while also knowing his best friend’s time is just a few minutes sooner. You wonder if it’ll ever be Eddie’s time, and wondering this makes the feeling in your stomach more than a little bit worse.

“Well, you seem happy,” Eddie says, cutting into your thoughts. “I’m happy for you both.”

Part of you hopes he means it, and the other part sort of hopes he’s lying.

You and Buck spend the next few months growing closer. He has the second surgery, and you’re there to help him recover. For now, you’re not sharing work hours, but you’re sharing time. You’re telling your stories, and he’s telling his. Your relationship sews itself like a quilt, each day getting cozier and heavier. The extra warmth is worth the extra weight.

It’s still weird not working with him. Now that he’s going through re-certification, he at least has something to keep himself busy. Before that, he was always at his apartment when you got off work. You’ve been spending most of your free time at his place. You can’t remember the last time you spent the night at your own place; you just pop in occasionally to grab something.

You blink awake, rubbing at your eyes as you yawn. You slowly sit up, and the pleasant smell of fresh coffee greets you. You rub your eyes again, and when you open them, you see Buck standing at the top of the stairwell. He’s already dressed, and he’s holding a mug.

“Hey,” you smile. “You’re up early.”

Buck smiles back. He sits on the edge of the bed, handing you the mug. “I’m heading in now, wanna get a jump on things.”

“Today’s your final eval, right?” You ask as if you don’t already know the answer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

“Nah, watching me pretend to save lives isn’t as important as actually saving lives.”

“Well, you’ll be done with pretending by the end of today,” you remind. “You’re gonna do great.”

He grins. “You’re just a twelve today, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back around 8 tonight,” you confirm. “I’ll make dinner! We can celebrate.”

“Sounds perfect,” Buck smiles again.

You return the expression. God, you can’t remember the last time you were this happy.

He looks at his watch. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You nod and bite your lip to hold back a massive grin.

Buck springs to his feet. He kisses you on the forehead before trotting down the stairs. “Love ya!”

Before you can say anything, the front door opens and closes. He’s gone.

“It was just… weird,” you say, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. “I mean, we’ve implied it, but we’ve never said it, you know?”

You’re chatting with Hen in the rig. You’re on your way to a scene call, but it’ll be a few minutes before you arrive.

She figured out you and Buck were dating a few days after it started. Hen’s always been able to read you like a book, so you didn’t even try to deny it. Truthfully, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. The only other person on the team that knows is Eddie, and you’re friends, but not kind of friends. Talking to Eddie about Buck would feel like talking behind Buck’s back.

“So you said it back?” Hen asks.

“He was gone before I could.”

“Do you want to say it back?”

You sigh. “I mean, I kind of feel like I don’t even have to. He knows I love him. He has to know. …Right?”

Hen shrugs. “Just because he knows doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell him. He might need to hear it, even if he knows.”

You pull up to the scene, and it effectively ends the conversation. A car ran through a crowd of pedestrians using the crosswalk and T-boned another car. Once you’re out of the rig, Bobby assigns you and Hen to the most critical pedestrian while Chimney and Eddie check on the driver.

“Hey there,” you greet, grabbing a C-collar from your bag. “What’s your name?”

“Shannon,” the woman musters. Her lips are pale and her voice is raspy.

“Hi Shannon, my friend Hen and I are going to look you over, okay?" You say as you start an IV. "Where does it hurt?”

“Nowhere,” she answers. “That can’t be good, right?”

“You’re in shock; we won’t know the extent of your injuries until we get you to the hospital,” you assure. “Can you wiggle your toes for me?”

You look down at her feet. They aren’t moving.

You place your hands in hers. “Can you squeeze my hands?”

Her hands sit limply in yours.

“I’m not doing anything, am I?” Shannon asks. She shakes her head as much as the collar will allow. “That’s bad. My husband, he’s a paramedic. He’s said that people with severe spinal cord injuries either die or probably wish they were dead.”

“No one’s dying, you hear me, Shannon?” You say, squeezing her hand, even if she can’t feel it.

Shannon. Her husband is a paramedic.

“Eddie,” you whisper before whipping your head around.

He’s already barreling towards the three of you. You stand up, taking a few quick steps forward. You place a hand on his chest to stop him from moving closer.

“Eddie, let me handle this,” you say in a low voice.

“How bad is it?” he asks, staring at his wife. “Spinal injury?”

“Maybe worse.”

Eddie pushes past you and kneels beside Shannon.

“Vitals are trending downward,” Hen says as she pulls her stethoscope from her ears.

“We need to get her out of here, now!” You order, ushering in some paramedics and EMTs.

Eddie stands by and watches as you and some other first responders transfer her onto a backboard and gurney. He then follows you and Hen as you load her into the rig.

“I’m riding with her,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

You turn to him, pressing your lips together. “Eddie, it looks like a cervical spine injury. We’ll probably have to intubate her. If we do that, there’s a good chance it’ll never come out.”

Tears form in his eyes. His jaw sets. He nods slightly.

“You need to say goodbye,” you whisper.

You end up intubating her in the ambulance. When you’re hitting the ER, her heart stops, and you begin chest compressions. They code her for about half an hour before Eddie says enough is enough. They call her time of death. Eddie goes to fill out paperwork while you pace around the waiting room.

He comes out a little while later, holding a plastic bag full of Shannon’s belongings. You stop dead in your tracks and just stare at him.

You rub your hands up and down your thighs. “Eddie, I’m so-”

Eddie pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. You return it in full force.

You open the door to Buck’s apartment. He’s in the kitchen with his back facing you. A bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of ice on the island. You hear a sizzling sound and watch his arms move. You close the door a little louder than normal.

“Hey, you’re home!” Buck says after he turns around. He’s holding a skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say, dropping your bag and jacket on the floor by the front door. “I thought I was supposed to cook.”

“Well, since you were running behind, I figured I’d get a jump on things,” Buck says.

You smile. Even though it doesn’t feel genuine, you hope it looks it. “So you passed, huh?”

“In record time,” Buck adds, returning to his cooking. “Cap should clear me in no time.”

You kick off your shoes and take a seat at the kitchen island. “I’m proud of you. …I love you.”

Buck stops what he’s doing. He turns to face you again, a puzzled look on his face.

“You said it this morning, on your way out,” you say. “I say it in a lot of different ways, but I realized I never told you directly. So… I love you. I need you to know that.”

Buck folds his hands together and leans on the island. “Did something happen at work?”

You smile sadly. “Yeah. Uh… you know Shannon?”

“Eddie’s wife?”

You nod. “She got hit by a car when she was walking in a crosswalk — C-spine injury. We had to tube her in the ambulance. She coded and died in the ER.”

Buck takes his hands in yours. “Are you okay?”

Tears start to form, but you quickly blink them away. They aren’t yours to shed. “I’m fine. I mean, I was just doing my job.”

“How’s Eddie?”

You clear your throat. “Um, about as well as can be expected, I guess? He kind of just… took off. I called him a few times, and he texted me back saying he’s at home with Christopher.”

“That poor kid,” Buck mutters.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, playing with his fingers. “Life is short, so… I just needed to know that you know.”

Buck smiles softly. “I know.”

He begins to cough.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

He steps away, waving a hand as if to tell you he’s fine. He cups the other as he coughs into it.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” you say, already standing to go to the cupboard.

Buck puts his free hand on your shoulder, stopping you. When he pulls back his hand, it’s spattered with blood. Your eyes widen as you look up at him.

“Buck?” you ask, setting a hand on his waist.

He starts coughing again, but this time, a flood of dark red blood flows out of his mouth and down his chin. He stumbles backward.

“Evan?!” you shout, helping him to the floor.

“You got lucky. Most people who suffer a pulmonary embolism aren’t in the same room as a medical professional. It saved your life.”

You’re sitting beside Buck, who’s lying in an ICU bed for the second time this year. You keep his hand in yours, your thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand.

“What caused the blood clot?” you ask.

“Clots, plural. There's the one that hit his lungs, and then there's two more in his leg,” The doctor explains. “As to the cause? It's unclear.”

“Yeah, but he just got a clean bill of health last week,” you argue. “This came out of nowhere.”

“Did it?” The doctor counters. He looks at Buck. “No pain or tenderness in the leg? Any skin discoloration, swelling?”

“...I thought I just pulled a muscle or something.”

You run your free hand over your face.

“Okay, um, well, great. Look, I'm not dead. You found the clots. When can I get out of here?” Buck asks.

“We'll move you to a room and keep you on the anticoagulants. Tomorrow, we'll run some more tests. And then we'll see.”

You thank the doctor for his time, and he dismisses himself from the room. You stare at Buck.

“I wasn’t ignoring this,” he says slowly.

“When did the symptoms start?”

“...A day or two ago.”

You stand out of your chair. “Dammit, Buck.”

“I didn’t know what it was,” he argues. “I thought it was a leg cramp or something.”

You start pacing. “If this happened when you were alone, you could have died.”

“But I-I didn't, okay?” Buck says. “Can… can you just sit down again? Please?”

After a moment, you sigh but ultimately listen to him. You take his hand again, this time with both of yours.

“The last time you were in the hospital, I told you I was scared of losing you. I hope I don’t have to repeat myself,” you say quietly.

“You don’t,” Buck assures. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ch 8

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

Small Halloween fic based on this post

Buck knew Tommy's biggest secret, that despite their friends thinking Tommy was the "cool guy", Tommy was indeed the biggest dork Buck had ever met.

Buck wasn't complaining though because it made Tommy cooler in his eyes.

So it didn't surprise Buck one bit that Tommy absolutely loved Halloween to the point where Buck had discovered that Tommy's house was the house to go to for trick or treating since Tommy always had a jump scare pranks for the older kids and full sized candy bars for everyone who came knocking.

And of course Tommy was a huge advocate of wearing costumes, he had shown Buck the costume he had worn during past Halloween parties from Captain America, Hulk, Super Mario, to a werewolf complete with a furry mask. Tommy was definitely into Halloween.

Which was why he was super excited to show Buck the costume he had picked out for Chimney and Maddie's Halloween party. The party was set to be adults only (The Lees had opted to take care of Jee, Denny and Mara for the evening) and fortunately it was when the 118 crew had a night off.

Tommy had been quiet about his options so all Buck knew was that Tommy was still deciding.

The costume options where the last thing Buck was thinking off when he returned to Tommy's home after a brisk run around the neighborhood, Buck had just mid swallowed a gulp of water when Tommy stepped into the kitchen with arms spread wide and asking Buck, "So what do you think?"

Buck choked on his water, spitting it everywhere as Tommy came up to clap him on the back. "Are you okay?" Tommy asked worriedly.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Buck asked, getting the air back into his lungs, his tone held no malice or anger. Buck was sure he was red all over and it wasn't because he was struggling to clear his throat.

But because Tommy was wearing a Spartan costume. The costume left little to nothing to the imagination. Buck's eyes were glued to Tommy's chest, were a harness was wrapped around his boyfriend's shoulders and chest, attached to a long red flowing cape and complete with pleather looking cuff wristbands. The happy trail on Tommy's stomach led to brown leather "shorts" that were essentially underwear and made Buck feel overheated and lightheaded all at once.

"You don't like it?" Tommy asked, looking genuinely wounded. He ran his fingers down the cape. "I thought it looked cool." He picked up the plastic sledge hammer that was tied to his "shorts", "Even came with this cool hammer." He smiled, the crinkles around his eyes, along with Tommy's curly hair and stubble had Buck losing blood flow to his head.

"You don't think it's...I don't know? Revealing?" He gulped, touching his boyfriends pecs and running his fingers down Tommy's chest hair. He stumbled over his words as he saw Tommy looking at him in a affronted manner. "I-I just mean uh that it might be a lot for a Halloween party?"

Tommy shook his head good naturally in disagreement, "We're going to an adults only Halloween party, trust me I'm sure this is probably the least revealing outfit we'll see there tonight. Especially if dispatch is invited, they really like to break loose after hours." Tommy waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"It's just that..." Buck's fingers skimmed the top of the shorts, "You look like you're legit wearing underwear, really hot underwear." the fuzzy part of his brain wondered if Tommy had on a cup, he had to be based on how tight the damn shorts were. Buck felt himself lick his lips as pulled on the shorts, earning a slap on his hand from Tommy.

"Hey!" Tommy pushed him back playfully, "Hands off the merchandise."

Buck didn't let the push deter him from grabbing Tommy by the hips and pulling him closer, "My merchandise." he growled, huffing out a groan as he started kissing Tommy's neck, biting hard at the skin under Tommy's ear.

"This is really doing it for you?" Tommy asked shivering as Buck's hands started to pull at the laces on his shorts. "Baby, it's a essentially a knock off of on a Thor costume."

Buck didn't bother even looking up as he started to kiss down Tommy's neck to his chest, "You just came in here wearing underwear and a harness, its going to do something to me, Tommy." he peered up at Tommy, watching how the older man looked both surprised and turned on as Buck press open mouth kisses over his chest.

Buck felt himself preen as Tommy started to pant, "Okay, so maybe the costume stays home." he decided as Buck dragged him towards the bedroom.

"It's definitely going to stay on, especially that cape." Buck promised.

-

This wasn't revenge.

Well, not exactly.

But Buck had a plan up his sleeve, it just took a few days to execute said plan.

Despite him and Tommy deciding to opt for a costume couple (they compromised and settled on going as Deadpool and Wolverine since they couldn't settle on which Star Wars franchise to pick from), Buck had his on costume he wanted to wear for Tommy.

Granted it wasn't anything outlandish, but Buck knew Tommy had one major weakness.

Romantic period piece movies and shows.

(Buck could freaking memorize Mr. Darcy's line from Pride and Prejudice by now)

Which was why Buck didn't bother to shave for a while, bought tan high waisted linen pants and those billow-ly white "pirate" shirt that would show off his chest. Separately they looked ridiculous, together along with Buck's curly hair and opting to go bare foot, he looked like he walked off the set of a Bridgeton episode.

Which was the goal.

Tommy was working on Buck's jeep when Buck sneaked into the garage.

"You almost done?" he asked Tommy airily.

"Yeah," Tommy stood up and turned around, "Just abou-oumph."

Buck mentally gave himself a high five as he watched Tommy open and close his mouth multiple times, his blue eyes wide. The way he could see Tommy's chest rise up and down was the added cherry on top.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked playfully, watching as Tommy dropped the towel he was using to wipe his hands.

"You look..." Tommy dry swallowed, rushing to get his hands all over Buck. "Hot." he wheezed out. "God, you look- Evan, all you need is the accent and I would get down on my knees immediately." Tommy swore, his fingers dipping under Buck's shirt and brushing Buck's stomach.

Buck used his two fingers to lift Tommy's chin up and in his best British accent (A really good one if you asked Buck) told Tommy, "I take it the gentle sir thinks highly of my attire then, hmm?"

Watching Tommy's eyes dilate and his intake of breath was all Buck needed to know he won.

He already knew where they were going when Tommy started to pull him into the house but he asked anyway- showing off his accent still, "Where are we going?"

"The garage floor is killer on the knees and I have plans for us now!"

[momotonescreaming]

Stripping Back the Coats

Rating: T | WC: 5.2k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Tommy & Chim Friendship, Post Break-Up, Hurt Comfort

[read on AO3]

Apropos of nothing, or what looked like it at first glance, Tommy broke the silence. Shattered the stagnation in the air that swamped his living room. The movie he and Chim were watching had finished, the room falling into quiet.

Hand loosely cradling a bottle of craft beer — some fancy brew he'd been talking up that was as nice tasting as it was expensive. Not that Chim was just going to admit that, at least not right away — he'd let Tommy sit with it first. Tommy, who was perched on the edge of his comfortably large couch like he was unsure he was allowed to be there. One move and the string holding him together would be pulled taut, and he'd spring off the couch to standing. He looked like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to collapse or stand at attention.

Instead he hovered in this weird middle ground of tight posture, perched on the edge of his couch. Like he was afraid he'd shatter with one wrong move, like glass spun too thin.

Chim thinks he's not as put together as he likes to seem — especially now, with the break up hanging over his shoulders.

"Did he ever tell you about our first date?" Tommy asks, brows gently furrowed, the words falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. Chim just hums, he's listening, acknowledging the rhetorical question. Even now, his words feel carefully chosen, strung together in the gossamer shield that seems to hold Tommy together. He. Not Evan, not even Buck. Chim wonders if it's because he knew he'd stutter over which to call him.

It'd feel weird hearing the name Buck come out of his mouth. Hell, it feels weird when he calls him Chimney. There's something comforting about being Howie to him. Buck must feel much the same, Chim imagines, getting to be Evan to him. There's just something special about how Tommy says names. Like they're special, like it's an honour just to get the privilege to say it. Maybe Chim's reading too far into it.

He takes a sip of Tommy's craft beer, his own bottle cradled in his hand, and it goes down smooth. He turns to look at Tommy, at his friend, and tries to leave his face blank and carefully earnest. As much as he likes to joke and kid and tease, he knows when it's not the time for it, and Tommy is barely holding himself together. If he looks close enough, he's sure he can see the cracks. That spindly thread holding him in place.

"Dinner and a movie." Tommy continues, and his voice sounds almost carefully flat. Each word finding it's place on his tongue. Chim tilts his head to look at him as he speaks. "We went to Miceli's — this nice Italian place, Old Hollywood, y'know? — ate, got a pitcher and talked."

He huffs out a laugh, more an exhale of air than anything, smiles at the memory. Chim smiles with him. Whatever he's thinking, there's something genuine there. Can see it etched in the lines of his face, in the lines gathering in the corner of his eyes, the curve and tilt of his mouth.

He looks more himself than he has all evening. More like the Tommy that Chim met flying a helicopter through a hurricane, and the Tommy he re-befriended after. Snarky, and cool, and lighter than he ever was at the 118. Even after Chim saved his life. Even after Gerrard left. He seemed like almost an entirely different person. More open.

Turns out there's still a long way to go.

"Beer wasn't even that good," Tommy jokes, turning to Chim with an almost conspiratorial smile.

"Saved the good stuff for me, huh?" Chim teases, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm flattered."

"You should be, I got these on special order." Tommy teases back, gesturing to his beer bottle with his own. "Not sure they're even making them anymore — it was a limited edition batch, y'know?"

Chim lets him talk through the very clear tangent, the very clear distraction Tommy is letting himself go down. Talk about the craft beer he's passionate about, that he was saving. Neither of them bring up the very real possibility that Tommy was saving it for date night with Buck.

He takes a sip of the limited edition beer, and watches something flicker over Tommy's face. The smile fades, the teasing smirk, and he looks down at the floor. At the rug beneath their feet.

"But yeah. The beer wasn't great but I really liked talking with him. He was earnest, interesting, cute. There was something about him that really drew me in, y'know?" Tommy smiles again, another sad thing, that same flickering over his expression. A glimpse of the new Tommy, happier Tommy — before he's gone again. "But, uh, it really didn't seem like he had processed what it meant to date another man?"

Tommy dims, his voice quieting, Chim only hearing him by virtue of Tommy wanting him to hear. Tilting his head towards him. The silence around them roars, the softness of his voice easing through it.

"He still hasn't." He says, voice walking the line between that careful flatness from before and an undercurrent of sheer sadness. There's something raw about it, something real, even moreso than the Tommy he was after he left the 118. This is deep-seated stuff, this sadness.

Chim knew that Tommy liked Buck, he's not stupid, but it sort of hits him in the moment just how much. It may have just started with thinking the other man was cute, earnest, interesting, but there was no doubt about it that it had settled into something real about it for Tommy.

And now it sort of sounds like Buck wasn't. Chim doesn't quite know what to think, not with what he's seen of Buck — he's tasted his baking, saw him drowning in oversized hoodies and staring at his phone on shift.

Maybe he didn't show all that to Tommy? He doesn't know what to say, how to say it, so he doesn't. And fuck it's hard, keeping what he knows of Buck in, but he does. Takes another sip of beer. He wants to know what Tommy thinks.

"Eddie walked in the restaurant with his girlfriend — Marisol, I think? — and spotted us immediately." Tommy continues, voice still low and sad, but he looks at Chim with questioning brows as he mentions Marisol. To which Chim just nods. Must not have met her much then, he thinks. "Buck panicked."

Tommy pulls a face as he says it, Chim following suit, his face screwing up as he hears the name Buck fall out of Tommy's mouth. He's right, it sounds weird. It feels wrong. Not allowed. Like something wonderful and special has been taken back. Pulled away.

He lets the feeling sit weird and awkward in his gut, Tommy rescinding his right to call him Evan, and focuses on the words.

Buck panicked.

A joke is sitting on the tip of Chim's tongue, a snarky comment, something teasing. Guess he really bucked it up. He'd say it to ease the mood if he didn't think it would upset Tommy. Turning his name into something bad. Even though Chim doesn't mean it maliciously — that's his brother-in-law, after all.

"He'd only just told me that it was his first date with a guy — I was ready to play it off as just new friends grabbing a beer — I wasn't going to out him before he was ready. I'm not that sort of guy—"

"Hey." Chim interrupts. Tommy seems like he needs it. To be shaken out of it, his voice speeding up, just slightly, looking up at Chim with wide eyes. All these tells, all these signs, are so small and easily missed. If Chim wasn't looking he had a feeling it would fly right past him. "I know you're not. Buck knows you're not."

Tommy takes a deep breath. Shaky on the exhale. He looks like he needed to hear it, there's a small easing of the tension in his shoulders. But he wasn't going to ask for it. There's a lot more to Tommy then he wants it to seem on the outside. His befriending him, his move to Harbour, his coming out — all first steps in opening up. But maybe he hadn't taken any more.

So if telling Tommy he was a good dude, helped, then Chim would remind him. He was, of course. He saw the start of his journey first hand. He remembers that first hug in the locker room. Love actually, monster trucks, craft beer. He saw Tommy's evolution, of sorts. He saw how happy he made Buck, how happy he seemed in return.

"But…" Tommy continues, steadying his breath, getting himself under control.

"But Buck put his foot in it."

"Yeah," Tommy says with a shaky laugh, an exhale of air. He doesn't think it's funny. "He told Eddie we were going to go out and pick up hot chicks."

"Shit." Chim winces, hissing air through his teeth and cringing backwards. "On your first date?"

Tommy hums in affirmation. Lets out another small, humourless laugh. Face almost impassive, as if he's processing as he speaks. Rolling everything that happened through his mind like he's thumbing at a marble, running thought by thought like a string of rosary beads. Chim wonders if it's helping.

"I cut the date short." Tommy says simply, an almost wistful sadness to his words. Eyes faraway, thinking about what was and what could have been. "Left him outside the restaurant instead of taking him to the movie."

"Nothing wrong with that." Chim says carefully, turning to Tommy. Nudging his side with his elbow. Wiggles his eyebrows, plays it up. "Sounds like he deserved it."

"Maybe a little." Tommy admits with a weak smile. He sighs, stale breath falling out of his mouth, dropping the smile. Scuffing his socked feet against the rug. "I don't want to be too hard on him."

"I won't tell him if you won't," Chim jokes, tipping his beer bottle towards the other man, before drawing it to his mouth and taking a sip.

Tommy lets out a weak snort.

"Buck invited me back to Miceli's for our six month anniversary," Tommy continues on an exhale of air, and it seems like the battle is leaving him. Not that there was much to begin with. Tension seeping out of his shoulders and dripping onto the floor, easing into something sad. Something resigned. "Didn't tell me it was for our anniversary when he invited me, but we both knew what it was. Maybe we should have talked about it more."

"You can't get caught up in what-ifs, Tommy," Chim adds simply. He knows it's not that easy, stopping going down the spiral of what if things were different, what if you changed things, what if you did xyz. Before he met Maddie, with Tatiana — there were a lot of what-ifs. Hell, there might have been even more once he started dating Maddie. "I've been there, and it's never any good. Even for the little things. You'll just drive yourself crazy."

He watches the other man sigh, dropping his head again. Cradling his beer bottle in the palm of his hands. Thumbing gently at the label, picking at a loose corner wet from the moisture of the cool bottle. "Yeah, Maybe."

Tommy takes a deep breath, sips his beer, and continues. Still thumbing at the label of his bottle. "A lot like that first time, it was going good until the end."

"Maybe Miceli's is cursed?" Chim teases, smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth. "Like his cowboy."

He hears Tommy snort, as he looks out over his living room. He's been barely looking at him as they talk, but Chim doesn't mind. It's easier, he knows, when no one is looking at you. When you can't see their reactions, their emotions, what they think.

As nice as Tommy's living room is — very cozy, very homey, with rugs and throw blankets and plush furniture — he draws his eye to Tommy himself. Watches his face, his posture, the way he holds himself. Watches for the things he shows, but doesn't say.

"Some lady came up to our table mid-dinner. Blonde, very Hollywood-pretty." Tommy's voice drops as he speak. Low, but not quiet. The words falling out of his mouth as his eyes drift somewhere far away. "Skipped like three tables in order to get to us. Asked Buck to take a photo of her and her friends."

"Flirting." Chim comments.

"Very obviously. Didn't seem to care that we were in the middle of dinner." He sighs, his face almost sagging under the weight of the emotion in his words. "He's hot, I kind of can't blame her."

"Except you can." Chim notes, eyes scanning Tommy's face, watches the upset twitch of the muscles in his jaw. "Or you can blame Buck?"

"I don't know." Tommy admits, and he can see he's telling the truth. "Buck was flustered, looked at me, but when he went to take their photo he automatically went to use his phone and she asked if he was trying to get her number."

He purses his lips together as he speaks, as if he's trying to stop them from turning down into a frown. His brows furrowing. "Buck didn't get her number — obviously — took their photo and went to sit back down with me. But."

"It hurt anyway?" Chim assesses, shifting subtly so he's closer to Tommy on the couch. He looks like he needs it. Someone near. He hopes he's helping just by listening.

"So much." Tommy says on a shudder. "I didn't quite realise I was waiting for him to debuff her, to tell her he was on a date with his boyfriend — until he didn't. I didn't want to say anything, ruin the mood, make it all about me."

"Hey," Chim comments, voice warm and comforting. He places a hand on Tommy's back, hoping it's a comforting presence, a comforting weight on the man's broad frame. "It wouldn't have been making it all about you. Especially not what happened last time you were there."

"It felt like a step backwards. Like, he could tell his family he has a boyfriend, but he's still ashamed to be seen with a man in public." Tommy sighs, a sad almost pitiful thing. Leaning into the weight of Chim's hand on his back. "Especially around a pretty woman."

Oh Buck.

Chim just purses his lips, and gently rubs Tommy's back. Hand moving in gentle circles. He doesn't know what to say to that. He's had his own struggles in love, in work, but he's never felt like the people he's been with have been ashamed to be seen with him. Even Tatiana. She started dating a Chim that didn't exist, sure, but they went on dates in public. And people knew it.

There's no way Buck meant for that to be the way his actions were portrayed, the man is head over heels for his boyfriend — but he can see how it came across that way. He can see the way it was the crack that helped grow the rift between them.

He just hums, and lets him continue.

"I had a hard time coming out. Worked hard to finally be authentically myself. Upended my whole life to do it." Tommy admits, his voice wavering. Wet, and thick. Emotions pushing at the words, at each syllable, begging to be let out. "I can't be shoved back in the closet. Be some dirty little secret. Not again. I can't."

Wrapping an arm around Tommy's broad frame, the expanse of muscle, Chim rests his beer bottle on the table next to him and turns his attention towards the other man. The other man who really seems like he needs it right now.

Tommy never really talked about his experience coming out, and Chim didn't ask. It didn't feel like it was his place to do so. They became friends over their time at the 118, and they caught up for beers a couple times after Tommy had moved to the 217. And he had cottoned on that Tommy came out — but he didn't ask for specifics. He worked with Gerrard, he knew Tommy was in the army, he could guess what it was like.

It hurt knowing that Buck put him right back there. It hurt even more knowing he didn't do it on purpose. And from what he'd heard of the breakup from Maddie — there was some reversal there, with what Tommy said before he walked out.

But that wasn't helpful now.

Today was about Tommy. About letting him talk, process. And Chim was there to help. It's not like there was anyone else. Tommy kept people at arms length and the only other people close enough were going to be with Buck. Eddie, Maddie, Hen. So Chim went to Tommy's, and he doesn't regret it.

"When he asked me for a second chance, after that disastrous first date," Tommy started, Chim huffing out a small laugh. An exhale of air out his nose at the way Tommy said disastrous. And after hearing what happened, he kind of can't blame him. "He said sorry, of course. And then he told me he wasn't sure what he was ready for. But he was ready for something and he wanted it with me."

Tommy smiles sadly, and Chim smiles along with him. It sounds almost romantic. That rom-com shit that Tommy not-so secretly loves. Sweetness and romance and earnest declarations. No wonder he fell for Buck. The smile drops from Tommy's face just as soon as it had appeared. "I should have listened when he said he wasn't sure what he was ready for."

"What do you mean?" Chim prompts, more curious about what Tommy's going to say than anything else. He can guess, of course. Turns out that he wasn't ready for something with me after all.

"He asked me to move in, did he tell you that?" Tommy questions, turning to Chim with brows furrowed. Gesturing with his beer bottle as he talks. "Brought up marriage and everything."

That, Chim did know, and not from Maddie. Buck had brought it up at the station, talking to everyone in the kitchen, and Chim had to bite his lip to hold back the snark sitting on his tongue. Into your loft, Buck? You rent, and Tommy owns his house. He had excused himself to go sort inventory. With how distraught Buck seemed, that also wasn't the time. Even though Chim was right. And it sounds like Tommy thinks so too. He hums that he's listening.

"And I just — what if we did move in, what then?" Tommy continues, voice strained. Chim can feel his chest start to rise and fall faster underneath his hand. "What if we did move in and Buck realised that what he was ready for wasn't me? What if he wanted more? What if it's me holding him back from really looking at his sexuality, from being able to comfortably call someone his boyfriend in public?"

"And you panicked." Chim states.

"And I panicked." Tommy confirms, breath stuttering as he exhales. Clenching his hands, steadying himself, as he takes another shaky breath. "I couldn't handle it. The idea that he finally figures himself out and doesn't want me anymore. That I'm not enough. He said he admired me, that I was confident and comfortable, and was one of the brave queer people who came before him. And I felt like a fraud."

"I've been there." Chim admits, the words falling out of his mouth before he can really process them. He turns to look at Tommy, pulling a face as he continues. Tommy watches him speak with searching eyes, his gaze roaming his face. Tommy's shared so much, much more than it seems he has in a really long time — the least Chim can do is reveal some things of his own. " The feeling like a fraud thing, I mean. Years ago, I was dating this girl — Tatiana, I don't think you met her before you left the 118?" he continues with furrowed brows. Tommy just shrugs. "But that's beside the point."

Shaking his head, as if to shake off the words. Tommy doesn't say anything, and for a moment Chim wishes he still had that beer in his hands. Something to fidget with, that's not the shirt on Tommy's back.

"We were together for far longer than we should have been. I was always complaining to the others how bored she always was, how hard it was to impress her. Hot though." Tommy snorts at that, and it feels like a win. A little reprieve from all the heavy shit they've been sifting through. "So I started exaggerating the truth, shall we say."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Tommy jokes, turning towards him in return, smirking faintly. Chim notices he doesn't pull away from his hand resting on his back. So he doesn't move, and continues talking.

"I wasn't lying!" Chim laughs. "Everything I said really happened! It just wasn't me who did it." He pulls a face, and tilts his head, conceding his own point. "And dialled up to 11. But it wasn't a lie! Technically. Maybe."

"Okay so you were lying."

"Yeah." Chim sighs. "Probably. I took things others did on call, went back to my apartment, and told her wild tales about what daring stunts I had done. Saving children and animals. Doing The Maneuver. I had to go home and pretend everyday."

And that gets Tommy listening, the smile fading into something earnest, attentive. He's hanging on Chim's every word now. It feels a little weird, oddly raw — telling Tommy these things. Most people he'd be comfortable knowing were there watching that relationship unfold. He's never had to tell anyone before.

"But I was so desperate for a family, a connection, something," Chim says, trying not to focus on Tommy's eyes drilling holes in the side of his head. "That I was willing to lie to my girlfriend to do it. Let her manipulate me, shape me, blind me to what was going on." He lets out a shaky breath, but powers through. For Tommy. "It blew up in my face of course."

"How so?"

"I proposed to her, she said no, told me she cheated on her ex-fiance, and then I got rebar through the skull."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Howie," Tommy exclaims, words falling out on the exhale.

"Not I'm not saying that that's going to happen to you,"Chim jokes, sliding his hand across Tommy's back and gesturing at him. He slides his voice into something more serious. "Or even that's what you and Evan were doing, just that I get it. It's hard."

"Yeah," Tommy shudders. "I spent so much of my life pretending, half the time not even knowing that it's what I was doing, that I don't know if I know how to stop anymore."

"And you think Buck saw a version of you that wasn't there?"

"Fuck, maybe?" Tommy says, brow furrowed unsure. He turns to look at Chim, a little distraught, pulling a face, before he turns away again. Stares back into the deep black of his TV Screen. "Probably. Which is probably my own fucking fault, not talking to him. But it's not like he asked either?"

"Do you think you wanted to be asked?" Chim prompts, guessing the answer is going to be another maybe. Or at least — that's what Tommy is going to tell him the answer is. He has a feeling the answer is secretly, obviously, yes. Tommy Kinard wants to be known, craves it so desperately, but is terrified of it in equal measure.

"If he did ask," Tommy starts, voice flat again, mouth down turned as he speaks. "It would have shattered the pedestal it felt like he put me on. And I don't know if that's worse."

Chim hums that he's listening again.

"He said he admired me, and Howie, you knew me way back then — there's nothing to admire."

Now that is just a blatant lie. There is something to admire about overcoming what Tommy overcame, about getting out and coming out. But he really doesn't think Tommy wants to hear it. He wouldn't believe it. He didn't believe it when Buck said it — the person he's most likely to believe.

Chim's not Buck, and he's only heard bits and pieces about his thought process, what he was going through on his side of things — but there's no way Buck meant that maliciously either. He knows about Buck being thrown for a loop, about talking to Maddie and Josh and something about Glee? But he knows for sure that the core of Buck's admiration for Tommy is love.

He loves him, and is proud of him. The man he was and the man he's become. His big beautiful boyfriend who's come so far and settled into himself.

It just sounds like Tommy's shit runs a lot deeper than anyone knew. Maybe even Tommy himself. He's learning so much about Tommy, here on his couch, the two of them spilling their guts. It's kind of nice, getting to know him more, this absent sort of friend he's know for over a decade.

He just wishes it wasn't like this.

"I'm not comfortable. I'm not confident. Not about this." Tommy says, shaking his head, and Chim wraps his arm back around his friend. "I'm not some paragon of gay rights. Gay pride. Someone who paved the way for those who came after, like he said when he brought up marriage. Fuck."

He shudders out another shaky breath, and Chim wishes he knew what to say. What joke to crack to make it all better. But he doesn't, so he listens. Just stays there for his friend. It feels like a long time since anyone has been there for Tommy. Not until Buck, at least.

"Did you know I've never been to pride?" Tommy asks, and Chim swears he can see his bottom lip wobble as he says that. Just ever so slightly. Until Tommy ducks his head, bowing it in a facsimile of prayer. Eyes shut, lashes shadowing his cheeks, that wobble to his bottom lip. "It always just made me feel like I didn't deserve to be there. Like I don't count. So I don't go."

Chim squeezes his side, draws him in like Tommy isn't bigger than him. Like he can tuck him underneath his arm completely, curled up like a sad roly poly of a man. There's nothing he can say to this. He'd go with Tommy to L.A. pride in a heartbeat, bring the whole 118 if it would make him feel better. But he really doesn't know if it would. Like a dehydrated man drowning in the depths of the ocean, it feels a little like throwing him to the sharks.

"I've always wanted to. Go to pride, that is." Tommy whispers. He clears his throat and looks at Howie. "He admired me because I'm one of brave queer men who paved the way to gay marriage, and I can't even go to pride without feeling like a fake."

He's never seen Tommy this open, this exposed, like ever. Even after years of friendship.It kind of hurts to see, pulls at his heartstrings hurts, seeing just how broken and vulnerable he is. Chim doesn't know what to say. What can he say about pride, without sounding fake himself. Like a well-meaning ally extending himself too much.

He knows about learning about your own culture, about exploring that part of yourself, he just doesn't know if now is the time to say it.

"I'm scared, Howie." Tommy admits quietly, sadly. "I'm scared that Buck is going to finally start learning about the queer community, about our depressing history, about what being a queer man means to him — and he'll realise that I have no part in that."

"So you broke your own heart before he could break yours." Tommy nods at Chim's words. He carefully doesn't mention that he broke Buck's as well. He wonders if a part of Tommy knew that would be a side effect. But that maybe the breakup would give him room to figure himself out, label his sexuality, and then he's ready to move on. Be a happy queer man, without the queer elder who opened the doors and stepped away. Who lived through the shit so he could live in the sun.

Howie can't say for sure, only guess, and he doubts either of them are going to tell him.

Neither of them are moving on.

Chim can't even be too mad at the guy for breaking Buck's heart. His own brother-in-law. He's clearly miserable himself, and his words just make him think of Maddie.

"Maddie left, you know?" Chim says, hand rubbing in gentle circles on Tommy's back. He looks across the living room, past the TV, and out the window into Tommy's backyard. Now it's his turn to take a deep breath. "She thought she was doing the right thing, and I don't dispute that — that she thought she was doing what was right for Jee, and for herself, and for us."

He takes another deep, shuddering breath, and looks back at Tommy with a wry look on his face. "But it sucked."

Tommy drops his head, curving his body towards the floor. Hiding his expression, his misty eyes, but from the flash Chim could see — he looks almost ashamed. Which wasn't Chim's intention, to make Tommy feel bad. He just wanted to lay it all out, share his perspective, share Buck's perspective.

"If she needed time, if she needed to slow down, hell — if she needed space — I just wish I could've been there to give it to her." Chim says, still careful to not reveal too much about his time separated from Maddie. Her journey. It was hers to tell, but he thinks the perspective could help Tommy.

Maddie was a runner, the person who leaves — and maybe Tommy is too. Maddie is Buck's sister, first and foremost — But Chim thinks it'd be good for them to talk to one another. She gets it. Just like he gets Buck, the person left behind. He hopes he's helping, telling Tommy this. Voicing his perspective.

"You chased after her?" Tommy asks, looking up at Chim, almost as if he's stating a fact, not voicing a question. They both know what the entirety of chased after implies.

"Of course." Chim replies, nodding. "I love her."

Tommy's eyes start to water again — not that they ever stopped — and Chim sees the light reflect through watery tears before Tommy bows his head again. Doesn't let him look, hides the way his face contorts as tears start to fall. His voice is thick and wet as he speaks.

"I love him, you know?" Tommy says, sounding all choked up, and Chim's heart clenches at the sound. He wraps his arm around his friend, and tugs gently, pulling him towards his side. "I didn't think it'd hurt this much."

Chim doesn't say anything, just holds Tommy as he starts to cry.

[bisexualbrainrots]

Return the Favor

did it just write angst in fluffebuary? yes yes I did, but it's all because of this gifset that compelled me to.

cw: major character injury, vomit, blood.

“Guess I finally got to return the favor, huh?”

Howie smiled at him, one of those smiles that turned him into the brightest light in the room, and grabbed harder at his shoulder as they managed to walk towards an exit point of the building. Howie laughed softly, a healing sound that would normally make him smile too.

But right now all Tommy could focus on was the amount of blood that adorned his friend’s (Could he still call him friend?) face. 

Lines that had rolled down the left side of his face, mixing with the dirt and grime. Thankfully, they had discarded anything more serious than a scalp laceration, but it was still worrying.

Tommy will always worry about Howie, no matter what.

“Took you long enough, I was beginning to think we’d always be in debt,” a small cough left his throat after he chuckled, which made Tommy stop dead in his tracks “I’m okay, we probably inhaled a ton of dust in there.”

Everything started at a factory. A fire that quickly turned into a second alarm that called for multiple stations, the 118 and 217 included. Tommy guessed it was luck that picked him for ground work that shift, but Howie would probably say it was fate.

He hopes it wasn’t, because otherwise Tommy couldn’t understand why fate would collapse a story that was clear and bring both of them down, making them fight for their lives.

Fate was confusing.

Tommy sighed and they continued their walk towards safety, the roaring sounds of firefighters signaling where to find them.

“Hey, Tommy… thank you.”

Howie looked at him with a fondness he thought would never reappear, which made Tommy get a funny feeling in his chest. He really didn’t want to start crying in front of Howie.

“I know it was… wrong of me to drop you after Buck—”

“You didn’t drop me Howie, you… you did what any friend would do.”

Howie shook his head, leaning in to get a closer look at Tommy’s face “You were my friend too, Tommy. Still are,” he held the hand that was resting on his waist, giving it a squeeze “I just hope you can forgive me for that.”

He took a deep breath, or as deep as he could when he was holding Howie “You don’t have to apologize for anything, after all—” Tommy’s smile widened as he took in the view of familiar faces, minus one he found out wasn’t in the state anymore, and bumped his hip with Howie to get his attention, pointing with his head “Would you look at that, seems like someone was looking for you.”

He should’ve guessed they’d be in the front lines. Tommy wonders how many protocols and orders the 118 disobeyed to get to them. It must’ve been a ton, but he guessed they didn’t give a damn.

“We’ll always look for each other.”

Tommy loved that about them.

He let go of Howie the closer they got to the rest, and patted him on the shoulder before giving him a gentle push towards the awaited reunion. Tommy stood as his friend was being pulled into a warm embrace by Bobby, Hen and… Evan. They were all so happy, he could even spot tears in Bobby’s eyes that threatened to come out.

They were all reunited again, as they were meant to be. Tommy watched from a distance, a tired but big smile on his face that rejoiced on the family he once had, the family he could've had.

He supposed it was good he was out of the picture, after all, he never truly felt like he belonged anywhere.

Okay, that was a lie, he did belong to a place and to a person, he was just too scared to let Evan belong to him.

He held his hands on his knees, chest heaving, feeling more tired thanks to the adrenaline finally running its course. His chest expanded as much as he could, lungs begging for air he tried to get in as best as they let him.

He could hear his heart in his ears, though he supposed it had to do with the fact that Evan was looking at him, a faint smile on his lips.

A smile that faded as soon as Tommy threw up and fell on his knees.

“T-tommy!”

This is normal, it's just the adrenaline fading, you're okay. You're okay.

He was in fact, not okay. 

Tommy wanted to rest so bad, to lay on the ground and take a nap, but his former family around him made it harder for him to let go. 

“Tommy, Tommy c'mon look at me, What hurts?”

He didn't even notice the grunts, his ears feeling like he had cotton stuffed in them, unable to listen to anything other than his rapid heartbeat and labored breathing. 

He tried, though, the best he could despite the fact that even speaking had become a hardship, “My stomach…” he didn't mention the fact that it had been hurting since he woke up after the collapse, he didn't even mention to Howie that rubble had fallen on him when they fell.

They laid him on the ground, Hen hurried to open his turnouts and Howie did a quick assessment of his injuries. He wanted to get them off him, tell them there was no reason to panic yet, that they had to focus on Howie. But if breathing was already complicated, talking wasn't much better. 

A warm pair of hands held one of his and he turned his head, finding Evan and his even warmer smile that any other day would've made him melt. But the fear in his eyes was making it harder.

He wanted to lean closer, to caress his cheek and tell him everything was going to be okay.

That was the idea, until Hen pulled his shirt upwards and everyone seemed to stop breathing at once, Evan's hold tightening.

Bobby barked instructions at someone, saying something about immediate assistance and getting them an ambulance ASAP.

“W-what…” he tried to look and exhaled when he saw his belly. From what he could see, a purple and red puddle had formed on his abdomen, which made sense why it hurt so much “Oh… right, the rubble.”

Howie turned his face to him, the same panic Evan had in his eyes “You had… Tommy, why didn't you tell me?”

He smiled faintly, tired, way too tired “You have… people, Howie… I, I couldn't let you die.”

Howie's eyes glistened, his brows pulled together as he blinked rapidly and got to work, putting on a pair of gloves (When did he get the gloves?) and palpated the area, getting an immediate wince and hiss in response.

“You have people too,” he heard Evan mutter, his head ducked.

Tommy gave him a weak smile. Evan was so sweet, even when he didn’t deserve that from him anymore.

He stroked his hand with his thumb, pretending for one second that Evan’s words were true. Their eyes met, and Tommy gulped when he noticed his ex had begun to tear up. He hated to be the reason behind his tears, regardless of the situation he had found himself in.

“I’ve got a collar,” he heard Hen shout (When had she left?) and in less than 5 seconds the thing was wrapped around his neck, and he huffed in frustration to the restraint he felt because of it.

“This is… stupid… I don’t need—”

“Will you just let us help? Tommy rubble fell on you, you are not okay,” Evan’s exasperated tone made him shrink. An overwhelming wave of emotions rushed through him, which probably showed on his face given the quick way in which Evan’s expression softened “Sorry, sorry it’s just… let us help, please.”

Despite priding himself on the way he would help others without giving it a second thought, he had never been good at accepting help. Even with something so obvious as getting a cold, where help has to practically be forced onto him. With Evan though, he could never say no, his stubborn ass never giving up a fight to help him.

He took a breath and supposed there was nothing he could do, not when Evan was involved “... Okay.” He nodded slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt his body being transported into something, probably a gurney.

He was way too tired to care.

“... hey, hey, open your eyes Tommy,” Howie’s voice brought him back long enough to get a feel of the gurney he was resting in. It was softer than he thought, or maybe the sleepiness was making him sink into it better. Whatever was the case, he was comfortable.

“Bu’ ‘m sleepy” he frowned. God he felt like a child again, being woken up by his mother on a school day.

He just wanted 5 more minutes.

“You’ll get to sleep once the doctors have checked you out, baby.”

Tommy perked up at the pet name. He looked for him and found those perfect blue eyes staring at him, his lips turned upwards in an attempt of a smile to give to Evan.

He was enchanted by those eyes. The way all of his attention was on them the first time they got to have a minute to talk alone. He wanted to swim in them, swim in that ocean of sweetness and craziness that called him in. He forgot he didn’t know how to swim though, not until he was sinking down and fearing that he had fallen without a lifesaver.

He supposed that was it, fear. Fear that constantly pulled him into a self-preservation mode, fear that made him sabotage every good thing he ever had, fear that made him unable to tell Evan that he loves him.

Shit, he loves him.

“Baby…” he called out, looking for his hand as they pulled him into the ambulance.

“I’m still here Tommy, I’m always here,” the strong grip of Evan’s hand on his was comforting, just like the movement of the ambulance that rocked him like a baby.

He was feeling cold though.

Tommy took a deep breath and looked at Evan, “I need… to tell you… that I—” whatever words he was meant to say were not there anymore, a sudden stop in his consciousness that had him closing his eyes and closing himself to the world.

The last thing he heard was Howie saying something about their debt. 

Maybe fate wanted this, as payback for the strip mall. Maybe this is how it was meant to be. Maybe he was always supposed to die with Howie by his side.

Fate didn’t count on the fact that Evan Buckley, his Evan, would be put by his side too. Didn't count on the fact that he would never bend to its will. It didn’t count on the fact that he was probably on top of him performing CPR by now, not that Tommy was aware of it anymore.

Damn it, he cursed out at fate, Why didn’t you let me say it?

Though he supposed it was fine, at least he wasn’t going through this alone.

He did hope they’d manage to save him on time.

Evan still owed him that beer.

[blazinghotfoggynights]

I am so happy to see a canonical badass also be canonically queer. I can't tell you how many amazing men I know who were closeted bi because it wasn't an option for them to be open.

I'm also raising an eyebrow at the writers since we now know that without Fox's chokehold on them, and KR writing nonsense, they can spin a good story, surprise us, and keep us entertained.

I want to see Buck discover who he is outside of the 118, the Diazes best friend, and the man who is always left behind. I want to see Buck spoiled and taken care of for once. Instead of him planning and executing the grand gestures, it's time for someone to do it for him.

I stand by what I said in a post weeks ago. Eddie Diaz was coded to appeal to the more conservative of the population and I have a theory on who pushed that and why. It is obvious who that character was supposed to click with. I believe he was written in a way to prevent Buddie and if you look closely, whoever "developed" him did so in a way that baited Buddie but kept it subtle for those who would be offended if that happened.

911 goes to a more open-minded network and we get characters who are much more developed in just four episodes? That wouldn't be possible if the elements weren't already there but lying dormant. I wonder why those character traits weren't tapped at Fox. Hmm?

If fans don't see the potential for not just season 7, but season 8 and beyond, to yield amazing character development and story arcs, you are not paying attention. There are so many areas that have yet to be explored and so many loose ends from Fox and KR. Just cleaning up the mess from the prior powers could give the show a good two to three seasons.

In my heart of hearts, Buddie is endgame. Even in this episode, Buck gushes about Eddie. He gets that look in his eye and sings his praises just before kissing Tommy, who is literally a physical specimen reminiscent of Buck but a copy of Eddie in every other way.

Do I think Buck and Tommy will go anywhere? I do. Just like Buck and Taylor, I think it could be serious. I could also see Tommy figuring out Buck is into him because of how much like Eddie he is.

But, I am willing to celebrate the victory of seeing someone figure things out, explore life, and love it.

I told you all in an earlier post, it isn't uncommon to have a sexuality epiphany, I hate calling it a crisis, later in life. Ask me how I know.

Also, major props to Oliver Stark and Lou Ferrigno, Jr. It's easier now, but it's not easy and they are going to catch hate from the bigots.

[spacequokka]

With a Note (I Meant It)

Pairing: Mingi x Reader Genre: f2l, second chance Rating: PG Summary: You run into an old friend on your way back home. Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: mentions of underage drinking (wine coolers, which is a no-no)

A/N: Last one for the event! I tried to make the song harder to guess. Thanks for reading and happy holidays! <3

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is a flight delay announcement for flight 118 to Seoul. We regret to inform you that due to the weather, we're expecting a delay of approximately eight hours. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and we appreciate your patience and understanding…"

You stopped listening as the other passengers seated around you groaned and complained. It was Christmas Eve, and after the flight being delayed for the third time, you were at the stage of acceptance. Maybe you should've booked the flight months in advance instead of last minute. Or chose a different company. Honestly, it wouldn't have mattered much since it'd snow no matter what and the likelihood of being stranded at the airport was a given.

Eight hours.

The terminal was buzzing with families reuniting and friends celebrating, while you sat alone nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee. You were contemplating buying overpriced fast food when you heard your name. You turned your head and gaped when you saw the man's face.

"Mingi?"

"It is you!" He took the seat across from you. "I thought I saw you earlier, but I figured my glasses were smudged up or something." He licked his lips and took a breath. "Are you heading to Seoul too?"

You nodded. "I really thought I'd avoid being stuck here all night."

He smiled bashfully. "I was supposed to catch an earlier flight but got held up with work. My mom's gonna strangle me when—no, if—I get there. She kept telling me to fly out before the snowstorm hit."

"At least someone had some sense. I didn't really give it much thought when I bought the ticket." You pushed your cup around on the table.

Mingi stretched his long legs out, accidentally brushing against yours. Mischief sparkled in those warm brown eyes as he pulled out his cell phone and a bag of chips. The last time you'd seen him had been your high school graduation when things got weird and you both drifted apart. It was weird seeing him now, acting as if he didn't avoid you that summer before going off to college. Did he not remember?

"Want some?" He held out a bag of honey butter chips, his silver rings catching the fluorescent light.

What kind of mind game was he playing? "Thanks." You reached for the bag, your fingers brushing accidentally. Just like old times, except nothing was like old times anymore.

You munched on the chips quietly as people filled and left the terminal, coming to see that their flights had also been canceled, then going off to find food or a place to stay for the night.

"I wonder if it'd be better to get a hotel room." He mused aloud.

You shook your head. "There's a convention going on. Every place is fully booked through to New Year's. Anything you find will be far out and you might not make it back here in time for your flight. Then your mom'll kill you for sure."

He barked out a laugh. "You're right." He fiddled with his phone, turning it over and over before asking suddenly, "Remember when we used to stay up until three in the morning? You'd always fall asleep on the phone and I'd have to wake you up so you'd put your phone on the charger."

You smiled despite yourself. "You weren't much better. You'd fall asleep mid-sentence, then insist you weren't snoring."

"Yeah, but I had a good reason. I didn't want to hang up." His voice got softer, more serious. "I wrote you a letter senior year."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

He nodded. "I wanted to give it to you that morning before the graduation ceremony, but I thought it might ruin what should be a happy day for you." He ran a hand over his white beanie and tugged at it. "So, I slipped it in your purse at Wooyoung's party that night. Blue envelope. You never said anything so I guess…I guess you never found it?"

The memory hit you like a thunderbolt—getting home slightly buzzed from wine coolers, digging through your purse, finding a blue envelope with smeared ink illegible in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You'd thrown it away without a second thought,anything, then passed out the second you touched your bed.

"Mingi, I—"

"It's okay," he cut in quickly. "It was a long time ago." He adjusted his glasses. "But being stuck here with you…maybe it's a sign or something." He laughed, but it sounded shaky. "Wanna hear what it said?"

The airport speakers crackled with another delay announcement, but you barely heard it. In that moment, it was just the two of you—Mingi with his gentle smile and nervous hands, you and your heart doing backflips in your chest.

"Tell me," you whispered.

He took a deep breath. "Why is everything so effortless with you? Smiling, laughing, being happy. You're the first thought in the morning and the last one when I fall asleep. I know our plans for life are taking us in different directions, but I want you to know that I'll think of you constantly. Is that love? If so, I love you more than I can express. One day, if you'll let me, I hope to stay by your side not as a friend but as someone you love in return." He looked you in the eyes. "When you didn't call or even text me, I figured you read it, but didn't feel the same. I was a little dumb back then. Avoiding you so you wouldn't have to let me down easy. Then sometime during my sophomore year in college I realized I'd rather you tell me you didn't feel the same over never knowing how you felt about me…Then Yunho asked me if I was sure you'd read it." His expression turned to embarrassment. "So I asked around if you'd said anything about a letter to anyone and no one could recall you talking about it."

"I was a mess when I got home that night! I couldn't read the words on it and threw it away. By the time I woke up, I forgot all about it. I'm so sorry!"

He nodded with a chuckle. "That's way better than what I imagined." He reached out and touched your hand. "It's okay, though. Really. And I'm sorry for letting us drift apart without telling you why. Feels like I wasted a lot of time, like I missed out on a lot of important moments in your life."

Melancholy wasn't a word you'd ever associated with Mingi and you weren't going to start doing it now. You squeezed his hand. "Then we'll make sure you don't miss anything else from now on. Okay?" You pushed away from the table and stood up. "Come on, I need to get you a Christmas present."