#buck is dating TOMMY

[buckleyskin]

everytime i see people get scared over bucktommy i just think to myself..bucktommy is loved by tim and the entire cast, tim knows about the invisible string theory, buck is bisexual and everything is right in the world. we haven’t really seen actors on set all the time except for the corefour (as i like to call them) TRUST on it - lou will be there, and bucktommy is long term.

[watchyourbuck]

No im not “grieving” Buddie, do you know how amazing it is to have queer/bisexual men representation in today’s media? Do you know how important it is for all of the community and the younger people watching this? This is a huge milestone and Buck’s sexuality is valid outside of any type of ship. Today we celebrate.

[stevenrogered]

Can we also talk about how Buck has feelings for Tommy...who is literally a carbon copy of Eddie?

[alchemistc]

Tommy doesn't quite startle, when Evan reaches out for his hand, halfway down the block on their way to the little park tucked in behind a row of boutiques, but it takes him a moment to accept the touch, Evan's pinky sliding over the back of Tommy's hand as their shoulders bump together, the both of them a little too giddy to blame the coffee alone.

Evan makes an aborted movement like he's second guessing the attempt, and Tommy twitches his hand back just enough to snag his fingers.

At his side, Evan ducks his head, cheeks pinking, lips rubbing together, smile going wide and bright.

He feels overheated in his hoodie, but now their fingers are interlocking, and Evan is shifting his weight to adjust the angle of their arms, and Tommy can just deal with the warmth, actually.

His sister's wedding. They're both insane, Tommy decides, right then and there, and if this continues - if this continues, Tommy's just going to take his cues from Evan.

(I am all in, Tommy thinks, in Scott Patterson's voice, and then drops that thought like a hot fucking potato. He tables it, at least. For later.)

"I - uh - I told Eddie, about - well I told him." Evan grimaces, but he holds up their intertwined hands for a moment, a clear gesture about what, exactly, he'd told Eddie. Tommy wonders exactly how much he'd said. He wants to climb in behind his eyeballs and pick at his brain, which is so beyond the pale of weird and intense. Evan still thinks he's cool, somehow. That won't last. "I hope that was okay? I know you said you're out, but I guess he didn't know, so -."

Tommy squeezes the hand tucked into his. "That's fine, really. He'd have figured it out on his own, eventually. It's not like I hide it."

(Anymore.)

It's - that's a huge fucking leap from "I'm an ally" actually, less than a week out from shifting his eyes around the room and spouting nervous nonsense about picking up chicks. His sister, his best friend - Christ, he's really going for the speed run on accepting his sexuality.

The wedding, Tommy had discovered, down to the dregs of a truly middling cup of coffee he kept sipping at to try to hide his own nerves, was another three weeks away, but a month of lead time between his first kiss with a man and introducing that man to all of his family and friends as a date - yeah. Tommy wouldn't trust it for a minute if he hadn't spent weeks picking Christopher's brain for hints as to exactly what was up with Evan Buckley, if he hadn't already heard from Eddie exactly how quickly they'd jumped into their friendship.

Tommy's whirlwind thoughts stutter to a halt. "Wait. Did you know?"

Evan blushes, again, ripening the apples of his cheeks. "It's - okay so I didn't know, know, obviously, but - I mean - you were flirting pretty hard."

Tommy laughs. "Evan."

"You were!" He sounds a little incensed, like he's actually offended Tommy thinks he can't clock a flirt, and Tommy can't quite resist the urge to squeeze at his hand, again. "You aren't exactly the first guy who's ever flirted with me, Mr. Kinard." He says it prim and proper, chin raised, lips pursing after the pause, and Tommy is - shit, he's smitten. He also has no fucking clue how Evan never pieced together how hard he was flirting back. God, even Mr. Kinard has his stomach fluttering, a little.

"Just the first one who's ever reached out and slapped you in the face with it."

Evan's grin goes blindingly bright, eyes still a little squinted under the sunlight making the shots of red in his hair a little more obvious. "It was a very gentle slap. You could - you could slap a little harder, next time."

Jesus.

He's not even a hundred percent sure what the implication is there, but he can at least roll with the tamer one. He tugs, a bit, on their intertwined hands, just hard enough to knock their shoulders together again. He's a solid weight against Tommy's side, the bulk of him a little mind numbingly hot, in his bright white shirt and the dark wash jeans Tommy'd taken his time checking out when Evan went to toss their coffee cups. "You still owe me a beer, Buckley," he tells him, and Evan tilts his head up to check the angle of the sun, doesn't even bother to point out that Tommy'd barely let the check sit on the table long enough for Evan to pull out his wallet.

"I mean, it's a little early."

"Raincheck, again?"

Neither one of them has anywhere to be for the rest of the day. They'd both made that clear, when the coffee started to get low but the conversation didn't wind down, and Tommy - Christ, Tommy is more than willing to let himself get swept up in this, for the next few hours, for the day maybe, even. The weather is comfortable, and the company is adorable, and in response to Tommy releasing him from the pressure of being out too soon he'd sped off to his sister and his best friend for - for answers, most likely, for advice on how to turn things around. My sister says... he'd started, before Tommy'd had enough of wondering.

"Let's see where the day takes us," Evan says, another squeeze to Tommy's hand, and Tommy takes the weight when Evan checks his shoulder back.

-----

The day takes them twelve blocks up the road, Tommy pressed to his own kitchen counter, lips swollen and flushed when he finally parts for breath, Evan Buckley's dick pressed against his thigh as he whines at the loss. Tommy's hands are bunched up under the fabric of Evan's shirt, the wide expanse of skin beneath them sun-warm and smooth, and when Evan blinks back at him and digs his nose into Tommy's cheek, Tommy has the wild thought that he could do this forever - just this, rocking together in the shifting late afternoon light coming in from the gauzy white curtains over his kitchen sink.

They'd made the journey here under the pretense of grabbing a few waters, maybe making some late lunch, figuring it out from there, but when Tommy had bent over the low shelf in his fridge Evan had cut the distance between them, caged Tommy in and made good on his threat to show Tommy he could slap back, if he wanted.

They've been lazily making out for - long enough that the water bottles he'd scrambled to set aside are now sweating condensation. He'd lost his concept of time somewhere around the point Evan had grabbed for the back of his thigh and rocked against it for the first time.

"We should figure out something for dinner," Tommy announces, lips still close enough to Evan's still parted ones that he's speaking mostly into his mouth.

"Uh-huh."

"Evan," he intones, just a hint of admonishment, and Evan blinks, and gathers himself. He's - he's still got his thigh wedged between Tommy's, can clearly feel exactly how much they'd both gotten themselves worked up. Tommy's a little obsessed with exactly how unperturbed by this Evan is. Thirty some years without realizing he was attracted to men and now he's spent a good few minutes actually nipping at the cleft of Tommy's chin, purposely shifting his face against Tommy's stubble-roughened cheeks while he sucked at Tommy's earlobe.

"Somewhere with beer," Evan provides, decisive, and Tommy can feel exactly how wide his smile goes.

"I'm actually in the mood for wine, tonight," Tommy shoots back, and the moment shifts, mood slowing as Evan pulls back - just a little, just enough for each of them to take stock of exactly how disheveled they both are.

Evan's mouth is pink pink pink, his own stubble not quite enough to hide the beard-burn that had spread down his neck when Tommy found himself momentarily fascinated by the dip of his collarbone, the rush of his pulse when Tommy mouthed at the tendon of his neck. Besides the awkward bunching at the back, his shirt is all out of whack, one side of his collar flipped up, the neck shifted to one side, and Tommy vaguely remembers sliding his hand in there, at one point, swallowing the heavy groan that had elicited. His cheeks are ruddy, eyes bright and still a little wild. Tommy can't be any better.

"There - there is actually a little wine bar around here I've been meaning to try," Evan says, clearly trying to refocus, shifting his weight around in a familiar way that Tommy finds achingly endearing.

Tommy thumbs at Evan's bottom lip just to watch the way he has to fight not to be drawn back in.

"Let me change," Tommy says, hands shifting to Evan's hips to press him back, and away.

"You - you're fine. Like this."

Tommy's smile is soft, and he reaches out to smooth down Evan's collar. Evan's eyes seem to be stuck on the flash of skin behind the open button of his Henley, the knowledge of which he is absolutely going to use to his advantage.

"This isn't exactly date attire," Tommy impresses upon him, and Evan's brow goes adorably crinkly.

"Tommy, we've been on a date the entire day."

Tommy's mouth does something uncontrollable, the smile breaking containment on one side, then the other, and the hand still tucked next to Evan's collar shifts across his chest. Beneath his ribcage, Tommy's heart does something he absolutely refuses to acknowledge until he's had a moment alone to his thoughts.

"I didn't wear this to impress you," he admits, although he gets the feeling Evan absolutely had dressed to impress. "Sorta thought I was getting a very polite let down, this morning."

"So, this is, what, your sulking attire?"

"Certain I was gonna sulk, hmm?"

"I mean, I'd have been a little insulted if you didn't at least mope, a bit. Maybe a little wallowing."

"You caught me. This is my brooding sweatshirt."

It's absolutely stupid, how much it makes his heart race to see the grin blooming across his face. Tommy needs a moment.

He brushes at Evan's shoulder as he passes him, fighting the urge to press his lips to his cheek.

"I'll be right back. Bathroom's down the hall on the left, if you need it."

In his room, with the door shut behind him, Tommy takes a long, long moment to stare at his bed, silently trying to convince himself not to throw his whole body dramatically across it like some regency era heroine. The bathroom is right next to his room, and Tommy can hear Evan drifting down the hall towards it, at a pace that suggests he's taking the time to take in the artwork and picture frames hung on the walls. It makes something ache, in his chest, in his throat, and Tommy shakes his head on the way to his closet, getting tangled in his sweatshirt when he tries to tug both it and the Henley up over his head at the same time.

He's forgotten how clothes work. Maybe. Probably.

In his walk in, once he's figured out how to get everything off without blinding himself or taking out a light, he takes a moment to stare at himself in the mirror hung by the door. His hair is a fucking disaster. His face is - embarrassingly smiley, Jesus Christ.

There's a mouth shaped bruise forming at the bolt of his jaw, and Tommy should absolutely be embarrassed about that - he's a forty year old man who just spent a good hour necking in his kitchen.

Fingers trace the edges of it and he can't muster up anything less mortifying than smugness.

He manages to get his hair in some semblance of order - doesn't bother with product, for absolutely no reason at all (certainly not to tempt Evan into running his fingers through it some more) - and finds a collared shirt in a light, hazy blue that he knows brings out the slashes of green in his eyes.

He leaves the top three buttons undone and calls it good.

Evan's back in the kitchen by the time he makes it out of his room, snooping in Tommy's fridge, and he doesn't even have the grace to look apologetic about it when Tommy taps his fingers against the doorframe.

The fridge closes on its own, Evan's mouth dropped to an intriguing O shape.

"Uh - oh," Evan says, mouth actually snapping shut as he takes Tommy in, eyes dipping up, down, catching on the skin below his collarbone. He swallows. Fuck. "This - uh. Okay. Color me impressed."

"Yeah?"

"You know you look good," Evan whines.

He's done something to fix his own, hair, too. Tommy leans in the doorway, arms crossed, one foot tucked over the other, and actually takes the time to stare back. Tommy's hands had worn through the product - there's a little bit of a curl, in his hair, that Tommy would give a lot of his earthly possessions to see in its natural state. There's still some color in his cheeks, and it's spreading as Tommy checks him out. He's fixed the neck of his shirt, and against the stark white of it, his tattoos are drawing Tommy's eye. He wonders how many other ones he might uncover, one day. "You too," Tommy finally says, when Evan looks like he might vibrate right out of his skin at the attention. Evan beams, and spins the keys in his hand around on one finger.

"You ready?"

Absolutely fucking not, Tommy thinks to himself, but he nods, and lets Evan lead the way back out his front door.

[silasplaskett]

people will cry about representation for years and years and then say the most blatantly homophobic things about canon queer characters for no reason

[moeyoon]

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 🍃

requested by @o-birdseed-o ♡

and also for @bucktommypositivityweek 💗 (with a little of delay 😭)

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

the way tommy’s concerns are about buck’s readiness for guy-dating in general, and buck’s responses are about his eagerness to date tommy in the specific.

like. “i can’t stop thinking about him” is not really an answer to the question of “are you ready (to openly date a guy)?” but it’s all the answer buck has. it’s all the answer he wants to have, at this point.

[fruitydiaz]

buck and tommy | risk

[emolionsrawr]

buck: TK!!! TK HI!!!

tk: BUCK! MY BESTIE!!

tommy: uh, babe who's this?

buck: oh! oh! tommy this is my friend TK from texas! we met when they had those wild fires, tk, this is my boyfriend tommy

tk: hi! it's so nice to meet you! so i guess this means i was right, you are fruity

buck: huh?

tommy: it's so nice to meet you too tk

tk: wait you didn't know?

buck: NO? YOU KNEW?! WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME?!

tk: YOU ASKED ME OUT??

buck: NO?!

carlos: hey tommy i'm carlos, this one's boyfriend

tommy: hey carlos

tk: so you saying we should get together in la wasnt you asking me out?

buck: no?! i was being friendly!

tommy: hey babe how many guys have you accidently asked out?

buck: none!

tk and tommy: suuuuure

[bucksboobs]

I do think at some point in the not too distant future, the 911 fandom, at least on Tumblr, is going to have to reckon with the fact that despite M!slash being the main driving force of the fandom, gay men like myself are in the vast minority (I think a recent poll put us at something like 6% but it didn’t separate bisexuals by gender so it’s hard to say how many mlm are actually in the fandom) and in the same way being a gay man doesn’t exempt him from being incidentally or purposefully misogynistic, being some other flavor of the rainbow doesn’t prevent someone from perpetuating homophobia against men who love men.

At some point the jokes about how Tommy is just here for dick or should just get dick and move on (when he’s already made it very clear that he wants a relationship with Buck) are going to start to sound like hypersexual stereotypes of gay men. At some point the constant push to get them to break up as soon as possible and for Tommy to die or get shipped off to Arizona or wherever is going to seem less like regular ship hate and more like wanting a gay male character to be punished for daring to seek a relationship with a man in the first place. We obviously aren’t there yet but I do think we should be aware that it is fast approaching.

[buckleyskin]

i cannot believe it’s been 2 months since we got bi buck and ever since then i’ve been in a constant state of stress. all i can think about is bucktommy. this is not good for me.

[elliethefroggy]

Operation Seduction

One night when Buck is a bit tipsy, he takes one of those online sexuality tests. The internet informs him that he’s bisexual.

After he sobers up, he starts to consider the possibility that he’s not as straight as he’d previously thought. He takes a few weeks to discretely stare at pretty men. Reads through some forums. Wanders into a few gay bars. Has one very messy make-out session with a man in one of those gay bars (it’s for science).

Thanks to his very scientific research, he realises that not everything you read on the internet is a lie, and that yes, he’s bisexual.

But that realisation doesn’t change the fact that he’s looking for a long-term commitment, no longer interested in flings and one night stands. He wants to settle down.

Though thanks to his recent revelation, this does mean that his dating pool has significantly expanded, allowing room for a whole new gender.

Then in waltzes Tommy, here to save the day. Here to fly them into a literal hurricane. Tommy Kinard. Hot pilot extraordinaire with an amazing cleft chin, an even better ass, pecks Buck wants to smother himself with, and attractive amount of confidence to boot.

How could Buck resist?

But before he gets ahead of himself, Buck has to figure out if Tommy is actually attracted to men. This is rendered easy by the fact that Chimney can’t keep a secret to save his life and is always willing to wax poetic about how cool Tommy is. One not-so-subtle interrogation later, Buck is now aware that Tommy is both very gay and very single.

Excellent.

The next obvious step is to see if Tommy is attracted to Buck. Now Buck knows how to pick up woman. He’s very good at it. He imagines it can’t be that much different to pick up men (if his one make-out session with a man was anything to go by).

But Buck is a changed man. He is Buck 4.0. He doesn’t want to hook up with Tommy. He doesn’t want a one-night stand or a messy make out session in a dark corner of a bar. He doesn’t want to start dating Tommy immediately after sleeping with him only for their relationship to fizzle out a few months down the line because of lack of communication and a misunderstanding of each other’s wants and needs.

So he tests the waters first. Starts hanging out with Tommy more. Gets an invite to those pub quizzes. Takes Tommy up on those flying lessons. Invites Tommy out to as many pretentious craft breweries he can find (that’s another hot tip he weaseled out of Chim).

During all this, his shorts get smaller and smaller. His tops get skimpier and more form-fitting. He wears less sleeves. He starts discreetly flexing in Tommy’s company. He rushes to the gym area whenever Tommy visits the fire station, showing off how much he can lift. He also uses any excuse to take his shirt off around Tommy to the point of pretending to spill greek yogurt all over his front on two occasions.

Buck pays close attention to Tommy’s every expression. He notices when Tommy’s eyes linger on the almost indecent amount of skin Buck is showing. Notices Tommy staring at Buck’s biceps whenever Buck forgoes sleeves. Notices Tommy’s gaze slide down to Buck’s lips whenever they’ve had a little too much fancy craft beer.

Operation Seduction is a go.

Buck ever so slowly starts making their hangouts more and more romantic.

At first, it’s just sandwiches on a bench in a nice park after a shared workout session.

Yes, he did stake out the park beforehand.

Yes, he did choose a nice, secluded bench where they wouldn’t bothered by too many people.

Yes, the bench just so happens to be located next to a very nice flower bed.

And yes, he did spend an hour preparing these sandwiches before the gym, and they tasted fucking fantastic. Admittedly, the deliciousness of the sandwiches does become detrimental when Tommy bites into his and moans around his mouthful.

He takes Tommy out to a nice restaurant with low lighting, cosy booths and excellent pasta. No candles on the table yet, though; it’s too soon for candles. But, the tables are small enough that Buck and Tommy’s long legs are pressed together during the whole meal.

He starts carrying around Tommy’s favourite snacks whenever he has a flying lesson.

(Buck’s heard that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and Buck is taking that very seriously).

Buck thinks his plan is going brilliantly, that he’s the height of discretion.

Tommy being Tommy, he notices all of this. From Buck’s outfits losing more and more fabric to the ever-closing distance between their bodies. He lets it play out for while, wanting to see where Buck goes with whatever he’s doing, but all Buck does is shower him in ever more delicious sandwiches.

It’s not until they’re having a not-officially-romantic walk along the beach as the sun is setting that Tommy finally asks the question he’s been puzzling over for a few weeks.

“What exactly is going on here, Evan?” Tommy asks.

“What do you mean?” Buck asks back, knowing exactly what Tommy is referring to, but trying to buy himself a little time. He’s figuratively hitting himself over the head because of course a sunset walk along the beach was too obvious. They should have gone bowling instead; there’s nothing romantic about bowling shoes.

“Come on,” Tommy says, “The fancy dinners, the even fancier sandwiches, the sunset walks,” he says, waving at the beach they were standing on, the gentle orange rays turning everything soft and golden.

“Ah. Right. That.” Buck says, pondering what to say. He settles on honesty because he would have had to admit to his plan eventually though that was meant to be at the end of Part 3 of Operation Seduction, and he’s only half way through Part 2. “Well, I’m attempting to seduce you.”

It takes a moment for the words to truly register in Tommy’s mind. And then hope inches its way in.

Because Tommy had an inkling that Evan was attracted to him. But he hadn’t allowed the hope to grow; he’d been burned one too many times when it came to romance.

Tommy enjoys Evan’s company, enjoys it more than he probably should. Evan was a fun, lovable man with a beautiful personality and the face to match. What’s not to like. But Tommy hadn’t wanted to ruin their growing friendship by testing out if Evan really liked him or not.

And here’s Evan, having the courage to try what Tommy could not.

“If you’re not interested, I’ll stop immediately, of course. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Evan says when Tommy is quiet for too long.

“I never said I wasn’t interested.” Tommy says immediately, and then watches as a gigantic and oh so sincere smile blossoms on Evan’s face. Tommy can’t do anything but smile back.

“That’s good. Because I really like you,” Evan says.

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, trying to not sound as breathless as he feels because that hope that he has been beating down with a broom is rising up tenfold.

“Yeah,” Evan says, “Does this mean I can continue seducing you?”

“Seduce away,” Tommy says, then adds because he wants Evan to understand, “But you do know I don’t need all that?” Tommy is more than willing to start making out with Evan on the spot now that he knows he hasn’t been imagining all the wanting looks Evan’s been sending his way.

“But I want to,” Evan says, “It’s just, well, I’ve been told that I sometimes take things too fast, especially with dating, and I’m trying to be better about that. I want to be better. I want to do this properly. You’re the kind of person who deserves it. You deserve to be properly courted.”

“Courted? I’m being courted now.”

“Yes.” Evan nods. And Evan means every word, and Tommy sees that, and Tommy really wants that.

“Okay,” Tommy says because what else do you say when a hot, sincere, wonderful guy informs you that he wants to court you in the 21st century? You agree.

After that conversation, they are both on the same page. They’re not dancing around each other, they’re actively dancing towards one another. Though it’s less dancing and more Evan sashaying towards Tommy, a peacock strutting about with its tail feathers out on full display. They both know full well where this is going, how this dance ends, and they’re both happy to take their time on the journey there.

(Though Tommy is a bit impatient to get to the kissing part because he thinks he’ll enjoy kissing Evan quite a lot. But the joy on Evan’s face whenever Evan gets to do something even remotely romantic for Tommy makes the wait worthwhile.)

Once Buck has Tommy’s full permission to continue with seducing him, Operation Seduction goes to a whole new level. No longer needing to be subtle with his interest, Buck gleefully skips all the way to Part 5.

He goes on full seductor mode.

And Tommy has no idea what to do with himself. He hadn’t realised how much Evan was holding back until Tommy gave him the ‘go ahead’, but having Evan’s full attention on him is a thing to behold.

There are hikes in the hills surrounding LA accompanied by picnics at the very top with spectacular views and spectacular company (and also sandwiches that somehow get even fancier).

There is even more craft beer in places so obscure that even Tommy’s never heard of.

There are movie nights filled to the brim with some of Tommy’s favourite romcoms.

It’s not until Evan takes them to a drive-in movie of Love Actually that Tommy realises Evan has an informant, but Tommy is having so much fun that he doesn’t give Chim shit for revealing all his secrets to Evan.

Evan opens the door for Tommy at every opportunity he can get. When they drive somewhere together, Evan will ask Tommy to wait so that Evan can rush around the car to open Tommy’s door for him all the while Tommy stares at him bemused, but charmed all the same.

There are candle-lit dinners with rose petals scattered over the tablecloth. Tommy’s being showered in so many amazing home-cooked meals that he considers upping his work-outs just so he can eat more of them.

And flowers. There are so many flowers. The first time Evan offers him a bouquet, Tommy doesn't know what to say; no one has ever given him flowers before. Tommy couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. He’s sure Evan noticed because barely a week later, he gets another bouquet. Tommy had to go and buy himself a vase because he didn’t have anywhere to put them.

Throughout all of this, Evan is constantly asking Tommy if something is ok, checking in to make sure Tommy isn’t uncomfortable.

On their second sunset walk along a beach, Evan asks Tommy if he can hold Tommy’s hand. And of course, Tommy says yes. Evan’s hand is about as big as Tommy’s, and it’s so warm in Tommy’s own.

After that, Evan is always asking to hold Tommy’s hand no matter where they are or what they’re doing. Tommy says yes every single time. Even if it’s during a long hike or just after a gym session together when their hands are both sweaty and disgusting. And despite doing it so often, Evan always has that big smile on his face whenever Tommy agrees. Tommy is just the same.

But after a few weeks, the anxiety starts creeping in.

Because Tommy’s not used to this. Not used to so much effort being put into dating him (Are they even dating yet? Tommy’s not sure; it definitely feels like dating. But when in the courting process is Tommy allowed to call it dating? He should ask Evan for clarification.)

When it comes to romantic relationships, Tommy is usually the one doing all the work, coming up with all the outing ideas. He’s not used to the reverse, and he’s not completely sure how he’s meant to act in this situation.

When he asks Evan if he should be returning the seduction, Evan smiles at him and says, “You ask me that as though you haven’t already inadvertently seduced me. That terrible fake mouth static really did it for me.”

Evan informs him that he’s meant to sit back and enjoy the ride, nothing more. And so Tommy does.

(Tommy does also ask if they’re allowed to call it dating yet, but according to Evan’s clipboard and the very detailed spreadsheet attached to the clipboard, it is still too early call it dating. Tommy nods in agreement when Evan informs him of that, but Tommy still calls it dating in his head.)

(Tommy tries to ignore how hot and bothered it makes him to see Evan with the clipboard because, according to the spreadsheet, what he wants to do to Evan is not in the cards any time soon.)

But then it’s Buck’s turn to be anxious. The last time he took it this slow was with Abby, and that did not end well.

Despite the very detailed plan, despite all the thought he’s put into Operation Seduction, he wonders if maybe he’s taking it too far.

He knows not everyone likes this pedantic side of him, especially when he’s got a clipboard at hand.

When he shares these worries with Tommy, when he suggests that maybe they give up the plan entirely and just admit that they’ve basically already been dating for months, Tommy refuses.

“You made a colour-coded spreadsheet. Of course, we’re finishing the plan.” Tommy is invested now even though he has long since been seduced. Also, fuck knows how much time Evan took to make the spread-sheet. “What’s next?” He asks.

Evan smiles as he looks down at his phone to open said-spreadsheet (constantly carrying around a clipboard can be a hassle, so he also has a digital version on his phone. Tommy would not mind constantly seeing Evan with a clipboard).

“Uh, right. Next up is star-gazing.”

And so they go star-gazing, and they have an amazing time, just like they always do.

One day, Evan hesitantly asks Tommy if he wants to go on a hot air balloon ride. Like every time Evan asks him for something, Tommy says yes.

Even though Tommy is used to these heights, the hot air balloon ride is amazing (though that could have more to do with Evan than anything. Evan who handed him the largest bouquet of flowers yet before they lifted off and who packed them a whole bunch of Tommy’s favourite snacks for the ride.)

As they admire the view, Evan showers him in so many hot air balloon facts that even the person flying them is riveted.

Evan quiets down after a while because even he had to run out of facts eventually.

Instead, they quietly watch the small world beneath them, shoulders pressed against one another, not an inch of room between them. And it’s nice. It’s so wonderfully nice that Tommy’s starting to suspect that that he’s going to want to keep this, to keep Evan for a long, long while.

“So how far along in the plan are we?” Tommy asks instead of asking how much longer before he gets to kiss Evan.

“Actually, funny you should mention that. This is actually the before-last part of the plan.”

“What’s the last?” Tommy asks.

Evan turns to face him, their shoulders no longer pressed together, but their bodies still so close.

“Tommy Kinard,” Evans says, grabbing Tommy’s hand and interlacing his fingers with Tommy’s, “Will you do me the honour of dating me?”

“There is nothing I would love more,” Tommy says, because again, what else can he say?

They lean into each over even further. Tommy lets go of Evan’s hand and instead places two fingers underneath Evan’s chin, tilting Evan’s head up towards him. And finally, after all this time, they kiss.

Operation Seduction is a resounding success, and the infamous spreadsheet will one day be framed and hanging in a place of honour in their future home.

[meep-meep-richie]

Tommy is officially Bucks date now

[alchemistc]

i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.

Big Blind

Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --

"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.

He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.

"You have a good night."

Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.

Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"

Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.

"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.

"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.

"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."

"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."

Gary hums, again.

Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.

Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"

Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"

Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.

He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.

Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.

Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.

Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.

-----

He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.

Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.

"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.

With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.

"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."

"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"

Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."

"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.

Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.

And.

Shit.

Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.

Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.

Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?

Tommy sorts through the memories.

Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.

Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.

The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."

"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."

Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.

Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.

As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.

Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.

He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."

"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"

Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.

"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.

"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.

"Hazards of blind dating."

Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.

Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.

"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.

Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.

-----

Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."

"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"

Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"

Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"

Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"

"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"

The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."

Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."

"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."

"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."

"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."

"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.

"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."

If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"

"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"

Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."

Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."

"I'll talk to you later, Evan."

"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."

Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."

Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."

The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.

Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?

Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.

See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.

He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.

"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"

Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.

[sauriurius]

„I am a scorpio, he is a scorpio.“

„I dated a vegetarian once which was challenging.“

„I am not the most approachable human being.“

„If you want a salad with kidney beans, you go get some kidney beans.“

PLEASE never let this man stop talking, I have been cackling at this mans yapping for the last 24 hours

[lavenderleahy]

Buck scans the reception venue, eyes finally landing on Tommy. He's is sitting at an otherwise empty table in the back of the venue, sipping on punch and staring off in the distance. As Buck jogs over to him, Tommy notices him and his eyes lift with the hint of a smile. Buck slides into the chair nearest to him, hunching over earnestly.

"Tommy, hey. I'm so sorry. I did not mean to ditch you for half the wedding."

"Hey it's all good," Tommy shrugs. "You've got your priorities. Maddie needed you. No one could've predicted the chaos of the day."

"Yes," Buck responds, placing a hand on Tommy's. "But I'm still sorry. I'd do anything for Maddie, but it still wasn't okay to desert you."

Tommy mirrors Buck's movements and places his other hand on top of his. Smiles gently. "Evan. I can hold my own at a wedding. I promise."

Buck glances down, then looks up at Tommy, smiling shyly. "It's just... it's only our second date and I've fucked up both of them."

Tommy laughs. A real, pleasant laugh. It makes butterflies dance in Buck's stomach.

"You've done nothing of the sort, Evan," Tommy responds. "Sure, everything with you is.... unexpected. But I like it."

Now the butterflies are doing somersaults. "Yeah?"

Tommy smiles and squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Yeah."

Buck beams. God, he's so nervous. Tommy makes him nervous. He still can't believe Tommy has given him another chance after their train wreck of a first date. He'd been thinking about the wedding for days beforehand, just wanting everything to go perfectly. Needless to say, it had not gone perfectly. Not even close.

But here Tommy still was, smiling at him, holding his hand, forgiving him anyways. He hadn't left in the chaos. He-

"You're staring." Tommy's voice interrupts his train of thought. He raises his eyebrows. "Like what you see?"

Fuck, Tommy's so confident. Of course he's confident. He's cool, and he's loyal, and he's willing to take risks, and he has a cleft, and - Buck can't stop himself. He reaches his hand up and gently grasps Tommy by the chin, his thumb on that dimple and his four fingers brushing against the stubble near his neck.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he says, breathless.

Tommy doesn't say anything, just nods solemnly.

Buck leans in and closes the gap, brushing his lips against Tommy's. Immediately, there's electricity buzzing between them and he deepens the kiss. Their noses and foreheads are pressed against each other, their lips dancing in unison, and there's nothing, nothing that Buck would rather be doing right now. His right hand snakes around Tommy's neck and he pulls him in closer, impossibly closer. The kiss is perfect. Tommy is perfect. He never wants this kiss to end.

But Tommy pulls back, ending the kiss far, far too early. His face his flushed and Buck is proud to notice that he might be a little breathless, too. He stands up, and Buck's eyes follow him, wide and wondering.

"C'mon," Tommy says, offering a hand to Buck where he remains in the chair.

Buck puts his hand in Tommy's but he can't move. His mind is still reeling from the kiss. He wants to kiss Tommy again.

"You said you needed someone to dance with, right?"

This shakes Buck out of his stupor, and he laughs. "Yeah, I did," he says, rising to his feet. He lets his eyes meet Tommy's and steps forward into his space. "Let's dance."