#but man is evan happy he has them.

[puhpandas]

i feel the warmth in my chest (and the chill on my skin makes it that much clearer)

(1,964 words)

Evan and Gregory, while waiting those few agonizing hours before Halloween can truly begin, go outside into the chilly weather and play in the leaves.

🎃🍫👻

It's a crisp Autumn afternoon when Evan steps out onto Gregorys porch. The screen door slams behind him, and the air transitions from warm to chilly in only seconds. The breeze washes over his face like a wave, and Evan finds he dosnt mind the cold that much in this moment.

It makes his nose numb and his fingers freezing, but unlike how he usually feels about the cold, he welcomes it. He takes a deep breath, smelling the scent of fallen leaves and crisp air and the pumpkins Evan had carved with Gregory last week sitting by his feet next to the stairs. It fills his lungs, and alongside the aftertaste of Aunt Chicas cookies on his tongue, the chill is pleasant, unlike how its usually so unbearing and biting in his own home.

It doesnt take long for the temperature to wash over him fully. By the time hes stepping down the stairs, his thin,white overcoat flowing behind him, its left his shoulders shaking and his teeth chattering.

But so like he's not used to, the deep, bone chilling cold only adds onto his excitement. It's that type of chill you can only get during Halloween, with that specific vibe and feeling coming along with it. Evan has never liked that unmatched feeling. All it ever told him was that Halloween was on it's way, and along with it, Michael and his pushing and pulling and jabbing and messing with. With the addition of the neighborhood kids jumping in if they'd see him walking down the street on the one night of the year it would be acceptable to scare him with scary masks and bloody fingers and camouflaging cloaks, it made for a pretty dreadful day.

He takes another look at his costume, a ghost, with white flowy sheer fabric that makes him look like he floated right down from the clouds. Underneath is a white sweater and pants, and his makeup is done to make him appear ghastly and, well... dead. Eyes sunken in with deep shadows and complection pale.

Gregory is matching with him, kind of. Gregory's costume is of a murder victim. Hes wearing sort of varsity jacket with a plastic knife stabbed in his gut, and his face is painted with bloody makeup and a faux black eye. Gregory hadn't explained the specific costume he called a 'Zombie Murder Victim High School Football Star', just gotten excited over the fact that they matched with their undead themes.

Its Evans first year matching with someone. His first year having someone to go trick or treating with. Theres something about this year. It doesn't leave him guessing. It doesn't leave him on edge, wondering who will strike first, all while being so uncertain but sure at the same time that something will go wrong. This year, he has Gregory and his family. This year, he has people who actually care about how he feels, and understand how to have fun.

This year, he knows Michael will be across town with his friends, and that his father will lock himself in his workshop. He knows that the neighborhood kids wont dare mess with him now, because of how many times Gregory has shown them a thing or two over the better part of this year.

This year, Evan isnt dreading the coming hours. He isnt hiding in his room, celebration or joy for the Holiday nowhere to be found, because he has to watch his back and sides. This year, he isnt considering running away for the night, even though he had always known he would never be brave enough to do it.

Instead, he's going trick or treating with his best friend, and he only feels excitment and anticipation, compared to the stark contrast of last year where all he felt was on edge and trapped in his own house.

The sun is only just setting by the time he steps onto that little pathway leading to the backyard from the front porch. Waiting for it to get dark has been agonizing. It had only gotten too much when he and Gregory were sat in front of a movie they'd seen a thousand times, makeup and costumes done, and unable to sit without wiggling or fidgeting, and Gregory had jumped up and gone "That's it! I can't just sit here anymore!"

That's why Evan's followed him outside. For the better part of the day Gregory has been more restless than a bored puppy.

Evan thinks the description fits when he finally catches up to Gregory and finds him digging through the shed in his backyard. Evan doesn't really know why he came out here. Theres much less to do outside than there is inside, but his intentions become clear when he moves to stand by Gregory's shoulder, and he goes Aha! while retrieving something.

Evan stares blankly when Gregory pulls out a rake, turning to face him and grinning at him. "Want to build a leaf pile and do cannonballs in it?"

He doesn't even have to ask.

It's not long before they're trekking through backyard, browning leaves crunching under their sneakers as they head to that big tree in the middle of the yard. When they get there, they waste no time grabbing the big rake and making the inklings of a pile on the flattest bit of ground.

The rake is heavy, and Evan can barely control it, if how it swings around and almost hits Gregory in the face is any indication. The handle is ice cold on his fingers, but it only makes Evan that much more aware of the excitment thrumming through his veins.

With Evan using the rake, Gregory takes to getting on his knees and shepherding the leaves to the pile with his hands. Gregory laughs over the dirt under his fingernails and how the still-damp leaves from the light shower earlier are chilly on his hands, and it makes Evan abandon the rake and get on the ground with him.

It takes longer than it should to finish the pile. They keep getting caught up in throwing the leaves at eachother like snowballs and using their hands to push waves at eachother like they're in a pool. The leaves end up more scattered than the were originally, and Evan has to get the rake again.

By the time they finish and theres a huge pile of damp leaves sitting in front of them, the sky is a dark, deep blue with the horizon a yellow. The sun is only barely peeking through the trees, and it's enough for the automatic porch lights to come on.

With the lack of sunlight, it's gotten that much colder. Evan's shivering enough that it makes his laughs warble, but he doesnt care. He doesnt care about the cold.

They only take a short break before they jump in. Evan lays flat on the ground, damp excess leaves and ice cold dirt underneath him. His throat is dry from the chill and how much he talked, and laughed, and his cheeks are sore from smiling too much. His nose is numb, and the thin, cheap Spirit Halloween costume does nothing for keeping him warm, but he doesn't need it.

Through the cold, it makes the warmth blooming in his stomach that much clearer. It makes the laughter bubbling in his chest and the excitement that the fun isnt even over, yet, he still gets to go trick or treating with Gregory after this, that much more apparent.

He has the warmth that spawned inside of him from spending time with his best friend and having fun with him to keep him toasty. So unlike his own home, where the chill is all there is. No warmth or comfort to adhere for that fact.

It's only now that Evan thinks that maybe, he doesn't really dislike the cold. Just how the cold is what comes with his unfeeling house and unpleasant family members and uncomfortable atmosphere.

Because here, right now, as he lays on the freezing ground, sky darkening above them and the last bit of leaves on the big tree in Gregory's backyard fluttering in the chilly breeze, he realizes he likes what comes with the cold, and not what the cold comes from.

With the cold comes the awareness of the warmth unfurling in his stomach. With the cold comes drinking the delicious, steaming hot chocolate Aunt Chica made. With the cold comes bundling up with his favorite sweaters, cuddling up under a fuzzy blanket, and watching a movie with Gregory.

With the cold comes those agonizing few hours before Halloween truly begins, and making a leaf pile with your best friend.

Evan knows his all-white costume is dirtier by the time he finally gets up, the knees of his white jeans brown and dirtied, but he doesnt have time to dwell on it when all he hears is a breathy laugh before hes shoved face first into the leaf pile.

Even through the leaves submerging his head, he can hear Gregory cackling. He sputters when leaves get in his mouth, and while regaining his footing after rolling around a few times, he wastes no time shooting up and grabbing Gregory by the shoulders.

Gregory yelps when hes yanked down with Evan, and all Evan is aware of when his eyes shut in glee from how hard hes laughing is the soft, scratchy, earthy leaves beneath him, the breeze in the air that just screams Halloween, and Gregory's body fallen on top of him.

Gregory grabs some leaves and smushes them into his hair. All Evan can do is screech at the wet chill before grabbing his own fistful and doing the same. Leaves fall over them like a wave when they roll around, wrestling in the yard.

They only stop when they get too tired to keep going. His costume is definitely dirty by now, damp like the leaves and dirt. The scent of wet earth and the cold and Halloween washes over him, and all he can find in himself to do is grin, and giggle breathlessly and chatter with Gregory as he lies on the ground, shoulder to shoulder with him.

Its almost pitch black by the time Freddy opens the door leading to the backyard, stepping outside, Frankenstiens monster costume and all. "Kids? Are you two ready to go? Its almost time for trick or treating!"

Evan only shares a fleeting look with Gregory before they both shoot up, previous exhaustion from their little fight completely gone. Evan runs side by side with Gregory to the door, his costume with the mud stained hem flowing behind him, and all Evan can feel in this moment is warmth, despite how his nose is numb and his shoulders are shaking and theres this chilly, floaty feeling in his chest.

He knows that there are definitely leaves in his hair when he steps inside after Gregory, and when the heat of the home blasts him in his face, making his freezing face tingle, the warmth prickling and sharp, Evan finds that with the cold can come the warmth, and maybe it isnt so weird that Evan feels nothing of the sort when it comes to his own house, and his own family.

It was never about the cold.

Just like how the warmth with Gregory and his family has never been about the temperature.

He only has time to grab his candy bucket (shaped like a mummified teddy bear) before he and Gregory are shooting through the front door, racing to Freddys car. He smiles even wider when the cold air rushes across his face again, and he can hear Gregory's footsteps next to him and Freddy and the others' voices behind them.

ao3 link

[epiphainie]

not to be soooo bucktommy-brained in this beautiful evening but i've done an entire mental research through my evan buckley romance archives and none of his former love interests even got close to getting him this giddy AND flustered, like it's kinda insane how bothered, bewildred, and smitten he's been this entire season 🥹😩💖🌸

[notasecrettelepath]

Update!

In this chapter, Buck overthinks about the other night - whether Eddie wanted to punch him or kiss him. Buck and Eddie have an ugly fight. Christopher makes two adults cry and it's not good. The 118 responds to an apartment fire under a lightning storm. Buck goes up the ladder.

Chapters: 9/21 (outline grew wings and one more chapter!) Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) [Slow Burn - Angst with a Happy Ending - Post Season 5] Rating: M | Words: 71k right now.

Chapter Snippet:

“No. But I’m your best friend. And I’m worried about you, man.” “Worried about what?” Eddie says dismissively, as if Buck is saying something ridiculous. “That I’ll take a baseball bat to my life again? Been there before, I usually only make these type of mistakes once.” Buck wants to say it’s not funny. Buck wants to say when he received that call from Christopher… the only other time Buck had heard that desperation in his voice was during the tsunami and Buck had gotten tickets for speeding and cutting red lights from that night. He wants to say for two seconds there after he’d breached into Eddie’s room, he didn’t see or hear Eddie and he thought the worst. He wants to say he knew then he loved Eddie unconditionally, but didn’t know he was in love with him, and now it seemed so obvious, because those two seconds were hell. Those seconds after the shooting, when Buck was frozen and Eddie was bleeding, were hell. Those seconds not long ago, when Buck heard a gunshot and thought the escaped prisoner had aimed it at Eddie, were hell. Those minutes after the well collapsed were hell. Buck wants to say that multiple times now, he had to live in a world without Eddie, and even if it only lasted a few moments, they had burned away something vital inside him. And he had no idea how far his love went because thinking about it scared him too much. But Buck doesn’t say any of that.

Read master & a hound on AO3.

I do think this might be one of the best chapters I've ever written, and for sure 10k words I am extremely proud of. Buddie angst is just 🤌🤌🤌🤌. They love each other so muchhh and it terrifies them both for different reasons!!!!!

[foxtrot91]

Dedicated Ally

Buck pants as Tommy rolls off of him, flopping down next to him with his own, equally heavy breaths.

“Fuck,” Buck grunts, grinning as he reaches over to Tommy, smoothing his hand over a muscular chest.

“Mmhm.” Tommy turns onto his side towards him, nose scrunching as a smile stretches across his face. Buck loves that smile, noticed it the day they met, thinks that smile might be the reason he went fucking insane trying to get this man’s attention.

Unable to resist, Buck leans in for a kiss. It’s chaste, considering the mind blowing sex they’ve just had. But sometimes those are his favourite, Buck thinks; a simple, easy meeting of lips, a kiss just to kiss, no expectations for more, just a way to stay close even after being as close as two people can possibly be.

Buck whines in protest when Tommy pulls away, hearing a huff of amusement in response before he’s being tugged into the other man’s arms. He’s pulled and arranged until his head is resting on Tommy’s strong chest and okay, Buck thinks, if they’re not kissing then this is the next best thing.

It’s not long before he’s drifting, not asleep but also not-not asleep. Just hovering in that quiet, pleasant space in-between. He’s warm, happy, satisfied, and Buck has the vague, faraway thought that he could lay here forever.

At least until Tommy’s chest starts shaking with barely suppressed laughter, which—

What the fuck?

Lifting his head, Buck gives Tommy a quizzical look, not sure what exactly is so funny.

“Sor-sorry,” Tommy coughs, waving a hand as laughter bubbles up to the surface now.

Buck runs through the last couple hours or so in his head, trying to figure out what’s so funny.

They’d had dinner, nothing new there. Buck had put on that new nature documentary that he’d been wanting to watch except that Tommy had been way too distracting and they’d ended up making out like teenagers instead.

That had been followed up with some truly spectacular foreplay — and Buck really needs to find out how Tommy does that thing with his tongue like yesterday, it was inspired, truly, before Tommy fucked Buck into the mattress like his goddamn life depended on it.

So, all in all, a really solid night. Nothing that should have Tommy bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“What is it?” He asks finally, giving up trying to figure it out on his own.

It’s a moment before Tommy answers, has to visibly force himself to stop laughing. Seeing the look on Buck’s face must help because he sobers pretty quickly before pulling Buck in for a light kiss and settled them both on their sides, facing each other.

“It’s nothing bad,” he starts, rubbing up and down Buck’s arms. “I was just thinking… remembering, really.”

He’s smirking now, a mischievous look in his eye. Buck’s about to ask what it is he was remembering but just as he opens his mouth, Tommy continues.

“You know, Evan, I never did thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“Yeah, for being such a good, dedicated, passionate ally.”

Buck groans as he suddenly remembers their first date, a little over six months ago now. He goes to lean back as he covers his face but Tommy pulls him back, chest shaking with mirth.

“Really, ten out of ten, no complaints. A must have for every gay man out there.”

“Fuck off,” Buck grumps, but doesn’t resist when Tommy suckers him in for another kiss. They’re both smiling too wide — Tommy, from laughter, Buck from embarrassment, so it’s not much more than a light press of lips.

“Would’ve bagged me an ally sooner if I’d known how dedicated they’d be in their… allyship,” Tommy murmurs, pressing another kiss to his brow, right over his birthmark.

Pressing Tommy back into the mattress, Buck hides his face in the crook of the other man’s neck, face warm as he shakes his head.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Tommy says, stroking his hair. “As terrible as that date was, you were adorable even in your obliviousness.”

Buck smiles, warmth blossoming in his chest. He’s not sure why, but every time Tommy tells him he’s adorable it’s like his heart feels too big for his chest, like it doesn’t know how to handle all of this love and affection it’s being fed and is set to burst.

“You know, it wasn’t easy walking away that night,” Tommy says, pressing his soft lips to the top of his head. “But you didn’t seem ready. And maybe a bit selfishly, I knew that if I was going to have you that I wanted all of you, not just bits and pieces doled out in the dark where no one could see.”

They haven’t actually talked about that first date like this before, not really. They’ve acknowledged it, certainly, but they’ve never deconstructed it in any depth like they are now.

“I’m glad you walked away that night,” Buck says honestly. “I was an ass— no, I was, and you walking away helped me realize what I wanted in a way that I hadn’t really been willing to before.”

Tommy hums, fingers trailing along the back of his neck, tracing random patterns.

“You certainly came to terms with it a lot quicker than I expected. A lot quicker than I did,” Tommy comments, referring to what Chim often refers to as his sexuality crisis speedrun after hearing the full story of how they got together.

“I had a really great incentive,” Buck says, grinning up at Tommy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ETA: Now on AO3 with some additions:

AO3

[elihermit]

Can you do a buck x reader where the reader and buck are married but she gets amnesia and only doesn't remember buck and their relationship. But it ends with fluff

where’s my mind?

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: you wake up in a hospital bed surrounded by your family and friends, but amnesia took away the memory of your husband, what’s Buck gonna do?

word count: 2,1k

author’s note: thanks to an anon for this request, I hope you all enjoy it, because I definitely had fun writing it 🫧 p.s. requests are open

“Yes baby, I will be home in 10 minutes, just had to stop at a gas station otherwise I wouldn’t make it.” — you say over the phone and sigh. Your day was long enough, of course it couldn’t end well, something had to make it a bit longer.

“Okay love, be safe.” — you hear Buck’s voice and smile. Who would have thought that after four years of dating – you can finally call this man your husband? The past three months of being married were so wonderful, you had everything you dreamed of. “I love you.”

“I love you too, see you soon!” — you smiled again and hung up the phone.

Well, this gas station definitely looks a bit shady, but it was the only one near and you really needed to get some gas.

It was 11 p.m., streets are getting emptier, and flashlights are the only source of seeing something in this darkness. You felt shivers down your spine and thought that it’s time to go home, you didn’t like this place.

Your hand reaches for the car door to get into the driver's seat. But this never happens. Instead, you feel a blow to your head so hard that the only thing you remember is falling to the ground and darkness. If someone got a reward for the most unfortunate end of the day, you would get it today.

Next thing you know, you wake up in a hospital and you try to properly open your eyes, but the light in the hospital is so bright that you squint for the first few minutes. You feel someone is sitting next to you and you turn your head in their direction. It was Maddie.

“Maddie? W-what happened?” — you finally speak and don’t recognize your voice. The voice is so hoarse, quiet and low.

“Oh (Y/N), you’re finally awake.” — Maddie said with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re fine now, you got attacked at a gas station and had a concussion.” — she took your hand and squeezed it. “I’m gonna tell Buck you’re awake, he just left to buy some coffee. He will be so happy.” — one more smile from her and she left your room.

“Buck? Who’s that?” — you think to yourself and get confused. “Maybe it’s a doctor or something.”

A man runs into your room with a relieved look on his face. You assumed it was Buck. But you really can’t remember his face. Maybe it’s Maddie’s friend or a doctor she knows, she's a former nurse after all.

“Hi baby, I’m so glad you’re awake.” — he rushed to sit next to your bed, took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but do I know you? I can’t remember if I ever saw you.” — the confusion is written on your face, you furrowed your brows and looked at him.

But Buck just laughed and smiled at you. You always liked to call him “sir” to tease him. He had no idea why you did that, but he secretly liked it, it made you look cocky.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, but I’m getting quite uncomfortable by my hand being kissed by a stranger. You better explain.” — you said that and pulled your hand out of his. Why does he think that he has some privilege to do that?

Then Buck realized. You don’t remember him. He felt like his world fell apart in one second. Everything they had been building for almost 5 years just disappeared. Your eyes were saying everything. There’s no love, affection and fondness in them. You didn’t look at him like he was the most important person in your life anymore.

“Maddie, can you explain? This man seems too stunned to speak.” — you said annoyingly, because no one gives any answers.

“(Y/N), I’m Buck, your husband.” — he said with so much pain that for a moment you thought that it’s you who’s acting stupid.

You couldn't lose your memory like that, could you? You remember everyone except your husband. Oh god, you're married, you probably have a house together, lots of plans for the future, but you don't remember anything.

Your head starts to hurt a lot from all the information that doesn't seem real. You look at Maddie and you see that tears are starting to form in her eyes. You see Hen standing outside the door of the room and talking to the doctor. The saddest look you've ever seen is on her face. Everyone remembers everything, why can't you remember?

The doctor comes into your room and gives you a little smile. This smile didn’t say "it's good that you woke up", this smile said "hang on, you have a lot of surprises ahead."

“So, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley, I have some news that I need to share. (Y/N) experienced a severe blow to the head, which led to dissociative amnesia, due to which she may forget something or someone specific in her life.” — so it’s true, you did forget your husband. How long have you two been together? How many good memories did you forget?

“What can we do?” — Buck said, pursing his lips. He took your hand again and squeezed it. This news shocked him, he wasn't ready for it, but he knows for sure that he is ready to do everything in his power to make you remember him.

“The best thing you can all do is put her in the environment where she has been for the last 5 years. Guide her slowly and carefully tell her the events she has forgotten. Memories can come in flashes and this is normal, it means that she remembers and after a while she will remember everything. But I must warn you that there is a chance that she will not remember anything.” — the doctor said and gave Buck a soft look. Unfortunately, he has to deal with many cases of amnesia and the hardest thing is to see the patient's family and know that they don't have the slightest idea what to do next. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to check on another patient.”

There is a chance that she will not remember anything. These words ring in Buck's head. What if she really doesn't remember anything? Would he have to win her love all over again? Would he have to propose to her again? Will they have to build everything again for another 5 years?

2 months later

The door opens. You came back from grocery shopping. Apparently, this is the house that you and Buck moved into after your wedding. Home sweet home, only you don't feel at home. You remember that you lived alone, there wasn't even a man on the horizon that you liked, turns out you're already married.

Buck is very sweet, he hasn't left your side for a second since you woke up. He showed you pictures of you together. Here you are at Bobby's birthday party, here you saw Jee for the first time, here you are at Chim and Maddie’s hospital wedding, here you are spending a free day at the beach. And you could remember those events, but you don't remember living them with Buck.

Yesterday Buck told you that you were supposed to fly to Europe together for the first time in 2 weeks. It's been your dream all your life and Buck was happy to make it a reality. He was happy to share memories with you that would keep you both warm in the future. But the trip will have to be canceled, because he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“I know it’s a lot and you probably want to run away, but listen, I’m here if you need me. I know you don’t remember me, but I remember everything and my love will be enough for both of us for now.” — Buck put the bags on the floor and came over to you. He stopped in front of you and didn't know how to behave. He wanted to kiss you, but would it be too much? He wanted to hug you, but wouldn't that scare you off?

Seeing how he hesitated, you hugged him yourself. You hugged him to you as hard as you could. The thing is, you were very scared. But Buck instilled a sense of security, he was your safe place. You didn't remember him, but your body remembered exactly how to react to him. And you trusted that instinct.

So far, you have agreed to sleep in separate bedrooms. You didn't want to rush things, and he didn't want to push you. So when night fell, you said goodnight to each other and went to your rooms.

You lay down on the bed and put your head on the pillow, it smelled like Buck. His cologne, his shower gel, the whole room seemed to be filled with him. You looked at the bedside table and saw a photo of you together. So happy and beautiful, in the photo you were somewhere in the park.

“I promise I will remember you. For us.” — you said quietly to yourself and fell asleep.

It was a beautiful sunny day. You look at yourself in the mirror and you're wearing an amazing wedding dress. Your hair, makeup, jewelry — all this made you feel like a princess.

“Athena, I’m so nervous, I don't think I will remember my vows.” — you turned around to Athena while she was preparing your veil.

“(Y/N), you and Buck have been preparing for this wedding for six months, if something goes wrong, it will definitely be Chim that got into some shit again.” — she laughed and took your hand.

“Listen, don't memorize your vows, speak from the heart. Remember how he makes you feel, remember his every look and touch, remember how he looks at you. And don't forget to add his nickname at the end. What do you always call him?” — Athena looked into your eyes and smiled. She knew for sure that your vows would be perfect.

“Light of my life.”

You woke up and were breathing heavily. It was a flashback from your wedding. Of course, you always called him "light of my life." Because he saved you from the darkest stage of your life.

You had your favorite white tulips at the wedding. Buck wanted everyone to come in colorful outfits, but you insisted on a dress code. And the cake ended up being 5 times bigger than you expected, so at the end of the day you handed it out to each guest, so they could eat it at home.

You remembered. Panic began to take over your whole body. Or is it just your love for your husband has returned and your body is responding to it?

You lifted the blanket, got out of bed, and hurried to the room where Buck sleeps. But he wasn't sleeping, you saw the light in his room and opened the door.

“Buck…” — you whispered and felt tears on your cheeks.

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” — Buck saw how panicked you were and rushed to stand next to you. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“Light of my life.”

He froze. Did you remember? Or is he dreaming? He didn’t want to move to not scare the reality. He just wanted to stay in this moment.

“You don't like oranges, so we immediately told the pastry chef not to offer us cakes with oranges. You really want children, so on our second date we started choosing names for our children. When you were struck by lightning, you pretended to be a Flash for 3 months, and when I dyed my hair and didn't tell you about it, you started calling me because you didn't recognize me, even though I was standing next to you the whole time.” — you started rattling off the facts of your relationship quickly, as if you were afraid to forget, but you remembered everything.

You saw the tears in Buck's eyes and started crying even harder. You couldn't even imagine what he was going through these two months while you didn't remember anything.

“I knew you would remember.” — he said and had the biggest smile on his face. “C-can I kiss you?”

“Please.” — you said it and pulled him to you for a kiss. So desirable for both of you.

“Don’t cancel Europe, we need more memories.”

Buck just laughed, picked you up and carried you to the bed. It's going to be a long night.

[magniloquent-raven]

"Oh, good, you are alive." Eddie says as soon as Tommy opens his front door. He pushes his way into the house without waiting for a response, and leaves Tommy blinking at empty space.

"...Sure, come on in," he mutters.

"Would it kill you to answer your phone some time?" Eddie's standing in the living room, hands on his hips, looking at Tommy like he's expecting something.

And Tommy's still lingering in his own doorway, suddenly very aware of how ripe his PJs have gotten. "It's my day off." It's a lame excuse and he knows it. He turns away to shut the door so he won't have to look Eddie in the eye.

"It's been, like, three weeks, man."

Tommy sighs quietly. "Yeah, look, it's just..."

"Is this the part where you tell me you both love me equally and it isn't my fault mommy and daddy are getting divorced." He's being flippant, but there's anger there. Tension in his voice. Tommy's not sure if it's on his own behalf or Evan's. Either would be fair, probably.

No. No, it isn't. It's not fair. He doesn't get to storm in here and judge Tommy's life choices. It's not like he's happy with himself about this, he didn't want to break things off. It just. Didn't work out.

"We don't, Eddie."

"What?"

Tommy folds his arms across his chest. "Love you equally. He needs you more than I do."

"What happened to me being allowed to have more than one friend?"

You know what happened, Tommy wants to snap, wants to be the kind of person who gets so angry he breaks, bleeds the tension out. He wants to untangle the knot that's been tightening in his chest for weeks.

Instead he hunches his shoulders. "Nothing, you have plenty of friends. A whole station of them." Tommy bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes iron, and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he collects himself. "I was trying to make things easier for you."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Yeah, nothing easier than getting ghosted. In fact, I love it when people I care about suddenly stop talking to me."

"You know what I meant. You have to take his side."

"Oh, I am. Breaking up with him like that was stupid, and he's really hurt."

Tommy barely contains his wince.

"But you were my friend before you were his boyfriend." Eddie's expression shifts, not quite softening. "I'm not here to defend Buck's honour, I'm here because my friend isn't making good choices and I'm worried about him."

He cried that night three weeks ago. Held off until he'd made it home and then bawled like a child, curled up in the dark and not bothering to wipe the snot from his nose. He hasn't cried since. Not when he found one of Evan's sweaters shoved between the cushions on his couch. Not when a date night reminder he forgot to delete from his phone dinged three days ago. Every time he wakes up to nothing but empty lock-screen he feels a little more hollow thinking about all the texts he used to get in the middle of the night.

But he hasn't been crying about it. Until now.

He's not sure what it is exactly. Something about Eddie refusing to let Tommy stonewall him. Something about all the things he's gone through alone never mattering to anyone. Not enough to warrant more than courtesy comfort.

"Woah, hey, was it something I said?"

Tommy shakes his head, and wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand. "It's been a weird few weeks."

It has, is the thing. He used to be good at being alone. But six months of borrowed time was enough for him to be in a lot deeper than he thought. He doesn't just miss Evan he misses being invited to his family dinners, and hearing about life with the 118.

"How 'bout I drink your beer while you tell me about it."

"...Okay."

[alchemistc]

both your hands in the holes of my sweater

It starts innocently enough. There's a chill in the air, a crisp and cool morning where neither of them have anything in particular to do, and when Evan plates up two decadent looking omelettes and suggests they eat them out on Tommy's patio Tommy can't think of a single reason why they shouldn't. The pergola is actually fully built, now, wisteria just beginning to creep across the lattice, the Adirondack chairs that have been sitting at the fence line for six months have been sprayed down and placed catty corner to the table with a built in fire pit Tommy had spent months staring at before allowing himself the indulgent purchase.

They're outside for five minutes before Tommy notices how tight Evan's arms are to his body as he eats, how the hair on his arms is standing on end.

Tommy gives it five minutes.

Evan is pretending not to shiver by the time Tommy decides Evan is officially more stubborn than he is. He'd come just off work, in a tight tee and jeans, and it's been hot as shit for weeks and he'd stopped bringing an overnight bag basically immediately when Tommy cleared out a drawer for him, so he doesn't have a jacket here.

"Evan," Tommy admonishes, after Evan's teeth clack together. "The omelettes are amazing, please go grab a jacket before you vibrate right off your seat."

He looks like he might protest, but after a careful moment where Tommy stares him down, he nods, stands - gives in and rubs his hands over his forearms as he books it back through the sliding glass door. Tommy spends the time waiting scrolling the same website he'd gotten what Evan has dubbed his "old-man robe" - he gets all the way through to choosing a cornflower blue one for his cart before Evan returns, snug as hell in one of the cardigans Tommy hasn't pulled from the back of his closet in at least a few years.

And there's something to that, actually. Tommy's dated around plenty - still remembers the way his first girlfriend had blushed beet red the first time he hooked her by her elbow to drop his letterman over her shoulders and how he'd wondered if there was something broken in him that seeing his name sprawled across her back didn't do shit for him. Still remembers the first guy who'd wrinkled his nose at Tommy's Carhartt and flannel, always half a step from dragging him into some high end shop for something Tommy absolutely knew they didn't carry with shoulders wide enough to fit him. Remembers the only other guy he'd dated who came close to matching him for size, and how he'd owned a grand total of three jackets that were tailored at the waist in a way that would have made it impossible for Tommy to close them.

So it's a first - Evan's style is changing, muteable, seems to hinge on his mood and his plans and the position of the stars in the night sky, but Tommy's never seen him in a cardigan. Give him some glasses and a collar under that shirt and...

Evan catches him staring and his grin goes wide, tongue pressing against the backs of his teeth in a way that promises at least one of them is getting a blowjob after breakfast.

---

Tommy winces against the sting as the tequila warms his throat and actually does a double take when Lucy wolf-whistles right in his ear. An hour ago, Tommy had been nursing his one beer and waiting for the text from Evan that he was leaving the firehouse, but a rollover on the 401 had run his shift long and somewhere between Evan's profuse apologies and Donato sidling up to him with a pool cue he'd agreed to shots. Date night was a wash, anyway, and Evan had seemed happy with the idea of meeting Tommy and his coworkers at the bar, and Donato was sneaky about her shots.

Tommy's - warm. Glad he'd ordered them both burgers once he got a text that Evan was on his way. Tommy is absolutely not going to make a fool of himself when he catches sight of Evan and feels the hinge of his jaw go loose.

Evan grins at him and waves at Lucy as he slides into Tommy's space. "Hi," he says, and Tommy knows he's a fucking dork but he's usually a smooth dork. Tommy's fingers drift over the pocket of his fucking flannel, dart over the rolled up shirtsleeves and the bulge of muscle stretching the seams at the shoulders and - "Nice shirts, Buckley," Donato snarks, already sliding a tequila shot past Tommy.

He's wearing one of Tommy's Henley's underneath, too. The fucker.

Evan looks a little bashful as he admits that he'd maybe gone a little too dressy for date night, and Tommy's place was closer.

Tommy knows for a fact Evan has a whole drawer of casual wear at Tommy's, but he doesn't call him on it, because this is doing something for him.

Their waitress is dropping off their burgers at the table in the corner, and Donato has already wandered off, so Tommy snags one of Evan's belt loops to tug him in, to press his lips to the bow of Evan's lip, to inhale Evan's pleased sigh. "If you catch up to me in drinks before we finish those burgers I might be convinced to let Donato mack on you again."

Evan swats his ass as he dances away, but Tommy can hear him adding a beer to Tommy's tab as he makes his way back to the pool tables.

---

Donato spends a month calling Evan "Tommy Too" around the station and Tommy's too smitten to care when half the crew picks it up.

It makes the next time Evan runs into the 217 on a call a little awkward, but Evan takes it in stride.

"No offense to the whole carpenter mechanic vibe you have going, but it's not even my style," Evan tells him, in the midst of explaining that he can't actually explain why he's constantly pilfering Tommy's shirts, jackets, and on one memorable occasion a pair of grey sweats that hadn't even made it past the bedroom door.

"It's - you can just say blue collar, Evan." The whole conversation had started when Tommy realized he was missing four different flannels and one of his tan jackets to boot. "It's fine, just - maybe stop hoarding them at your place, please? I'm running out of clothes to wear."

"We could go shopping," Evan says, with a gleam in his eye, and Tommy thinks of the party supplies debacle last month.

"No. Never again. You're a goddamn tyrant." He eases the words with a nudge of his shoulder against Evan's, and Evan grins back. He'd been mulish as hell about which balloons to get and what type of tape was allowed, and it had worked Tommy up so much they'd barely gotten through the door before Tommy was crowding him against a side table and reaching for his zipper.

One day they're gonna have an argument about trans fats in the freezer aisle of Ralph's and Tommy's gonna get a nationwide ban for public indecency.

Evan blinks away an expression before Tommy can parse it, but even though this is his first real foray into dating a clothes stealing fiend, he's heard the women in his life talk about the sentiment enough to sort of have an idea what it's all about. He takes a shot in the dark. "You can have one thing at your place at all times. Rotate them out if you want, but for the love of god don't make me go to work naked."

Evan's blink is a little less focused this time, which is absolutely Tommy's bad.

---

He doesn't really get it, is the thing. Until he does.

---

He's sulking. Tommy is absolutely sulking and he has no one to blame but himself.

"A whole wide world of fluke accidents and cursed injuries and you sprained your ankle on a basketball court," Eddie says, and they share a quick smirk between themselves at the memory of the last time they'd been to this particular urgent care.

He's got Evan's Jeep, and when Eddie gets him up into the back seat Tommy can feel the edges of his eyes getting heavy. It feels like barely a second has passed before Eddie's popping into the drivers seat

"These are good drugs," Tommy says, and then tosses the bag the pill bottle is in into the passenger seat. "Take them with you."

Eddie glances at him askance in the rearview, and Tommy's pretty sure he mumbles something vaguely coherent about addiction being a fucking genetic gift, but he's distracted by the shot of emerald green tucked into the back of the passenger seat pocket.

It smells like Evan, is the first thing he notices as he yanks it loose, and Eddie is most likely chuckling about Tommy pressing it to his face but there could also be a funny street sign. They'd gone to that brewery up in San Luis Obispo and when they'd left for the day trip it'd been chilly, but by the time they got there it'd been scorching.

Tommy spends a good ten minutes trying to figure out if he can separate the sandalwood body wash from the vanilla and vetiver cologne and then loses that train of thought when Eddie checks in. He's forced to remove the hoodie from his face with something vaguely approaching embarrassment, but Eddie just laughs. "You two are something else," he murmurs, and - it's a sentiment that's been repeated a million different times with a million different facial expressions but from Eddie, here in the quiet comfort of the Jeep, with NPR turned down low even though Eddie complains about it every fucking time he hops in to find Evan listening to it - here, it feels important.

That's probably the good drugs talking.

"I'm gonna marry that man," Tommy blurts, and Eddie doesn't do anything crazy like slam on the breaks or whip his head around. What he does do is catch Tommy's eye in the rearview and take stock of Tommy trying to stuff himself into the hoodie without unbuckling his seatbelt. He's probably gonna regret that, when the drugs wear off.

"He know that?" Eddie asks, and the edge he'd maybe expected is missing from Eddie's voice. He sounds - pleased, maybe. Knowing.

"I thought we had a hard rule about relationship talk."

Eddie hums. "You started it."

And he did, at that. Tommy isn't subtle at all about tipping his head to the side to nose at the hood of the sweatshirt. God, it's like rolling into Evan's pillow after he'd left for work.

"We've talked about it." He's aiming for casual, and it sucks that his vision isn't the best right now because he can't quite read the tilt of Eddie's brow.

Eddie makes it clear, though - a long, low whistle. "Kinda early for 'til death do us part."

"I woulda married him a month in, if he'd asked," Tommy admits, and - that's something he hadn't really planned to admit even if it's the truest thing he's ever said.

Eddie snorts. "A month after you ditched him halfway through a date?"

Tommy narrows his eyes. Tips his chin against the warming metal of the zipper where it rests against his chest. "There were extenuating circumstances."

"Like?"

"Like I was already way too invested and I didn't realize he didn't even know he was into men until I kissed him."

Eddie stews over that for the next however many blocks. Tommy tucks his thumbs into the sleeves of the hoodie and strokes them over the still downy-soft fleece lining the inside of the jacket.

"So what's the protocol with two dudes, anyway? You gotta ask each other's parents if they're cool with their sons no longer living in sin?"

Tommy snorts. "Your religious trauma is showing, jackass." He flicks a look at Eddie. "Besides, Phillip Buckley fucking loves me."

Evan had been more surprised by that than Tommy. Tommy's got a way - with fathers, with white collar men in their fifties and sixties, with - well he's got a way. They either secretly wanna fuck him or secretly wanna be him and Tommy knows how to lean into that. Without making it weird.

The rest of the drive is quiet. Eddie seems to be processing, though what, Tommy can only assume. He's got no clue what Evan tells Eddie about the two of them, unless Evan has mentioned it himself.

When he pulls into the drive, Evan's already pushing out the front door with a hand on his hip. He stills when he catches sight of the no doubt haphazardly thrown on jacket Tommy's wearing, and - yeah. Yep. He gets it now.

"I'm staying for dinner," Eddie says, with a finger aimed at Evan's face. "You get that look off your face."

Evan gestures, splutters. He's doing absolutely nothing to help Eddie guide him up the walk.

Five minutes later, when Tommy's settled in the couch with his leg elevated, Evan sends Eddie to the kitchen and spends a ridiculous amount of time fluffing pillows and gentling his hands over Tommy's legs - the good and the bad one.

Tommy's expecting a kiss, but all he actually gets when Evan draws near is an annoyed groan and a punched out sigh. "After Eddie leaves I'm gonna spend an hour telling you all the different shades of green in your eyes I've never noticed before."

Tommy grins dopily. Tugs at the hem of Evan's sweater - an old, old cable knit Tommy's surprised even fits the breadth of his shoulders when Tommy hasn't worn it since the aughts. "Eddie said no dirty talk," he admonishes, and Evan's grin as he drops his lips towards Tommy's is bright enough to power a city grid.

[chronicowboy]

Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.

Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.

It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.

It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.

"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.

"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.

"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.

"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"

"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.

"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"

"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.

"You just thought..."

"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."

"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.

"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."

"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.

It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.

Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.

Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.

"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."

"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.

And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.

[eddiestightywhities]

also on ao3 HERE

.

“So, I overheard this guy in the line at the coffee shop this morning talking about name meanings—”

“Of course you did,” Eddie interjects, not unkindly.

Buck turned up with beers about a half hour ago, and has had his head in his phone for the last, what, twenty minutes? Something like that.

This is the first thing he's said since Eddie let him in and he sat his ass down on the couch in silence, looking like he needed Eddie to just allow him to.

Eddie did.

“—and I thought I'd look up ours.”

He's chewing on his bottom lip like it tastes good.

Eddie surprises himself by wondering if it does.

“I'm guessing you already know what Christopher means.”

Thinking back to when Shannon asked if he liked the name, Eddie smiles.

“Means 'Bearer of Christ', or something, right? We chose it because was Shannon's grandfather's name, though. He was Greek, and she adored him.”

Searching fingers instinctively find his pendant. It's positioned to the left, sitting right over his heart.

He misses his son like he'd miss a lung.

Buck looks up at him and smiles back, and Eddie feels glad the release he'd found dancing 'round his living room earlier isn't going to suddenly disappear down the bathroom sinkhole, along with his moustache.

“So, tell me, what does Edmundo mean, oh scholarly one?”

Buck's eyebrows try to meet his hairline.

“You don't know?”

Eddie tips his head back against the couch and scrunches his mouth up into nose.

“I have sisters, man, of course I know what it means. But that doesn't mean I don't want you to tell me.”

Buck seems somewhat happy with that.

“Well, it's a derivative of the Old English name Edmund, which is a combination of the words ēad and mund. The first part means prosperity, or riches, which is a bit of a bust, sorry man,” and he tries for a grin. It almost hits.

“But the the mund part means protector—which is pretty spot on, I reckon.”

Buck's eyelashes are kind of blonde, and kind of pretty. Eddie's thought it before, but there's just something about them in this light, in Eddie's house, on Eddie's couch.

“It's actually a real pretty name, Edmundo. Don't know if I've ever told you I think that.”

“Don't think I've ever told you your eyelashes are kind of pretty, so that makes us even, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at Buck, big and genuine, and somehow it's so easy.

Buck smiles back. Looks a little confused, or pleased, or both. Eddie's not sure, but either is okay with him.

“Um, thanks?”

Eddie bites his tongue between his teeth in a poor effort to stop his grin turning positively goofy.

Buck takes it for what it is, and bats his eyelashes at Eddie, silly, and laughs.

His whole demeanor then changes as he finally settles properly into the couch and gifts his lungs with what might be the first proper breath he's taken since he arrived.

“Anyway, Evan is the worst of the three. It means yew, like the tree? Which is—it symbolises, like, spirituality, and rebirth and shit like that. 'S not really, uh, me, you know?”

“You mean like Evan isn't really you?”

Buck bites at his red, red lip again.

Eddie decides it'd taste like cherry Chupa Chups.

“Yeah. But it's—my name.”

“Except it isn't though, it's it?” Eddie reminds him. “You're name is Buck, Buck. You decided that.”

“I don't know why he always insisted on calling me Evan. Or why I just—let him. It was kind of weird.”

Tommy.

"Called? Past tense?” Eddie flips his tongue in his mouth. Breathes a little more deliberately.

Buck looks at his phone again before he's slowly placing it down on the couch between them.

His fingers are touching the outside of Eddie's thigh, and Eddie's suddenly acutely aware that he still isn't wearing any pants.

Buck leaves his hand where it is.

“He, uh, he dumped me. Because I—”

Buck sucks in oxygen, a lot of it, and holds it in his lungs before puffing out his cheeks as he makes a show of blowing it back out again.

“I asked him to move in with me.”

Eddie was not expecting either of those statements.

"Ouch.”

Buck's fingers twitch against Eddie's skin, and Eddie feels it travel right down his leg and into his toes, which curl involuntarily into the carpet.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, kind of knowing Buck doesn't. He will when he's ready.

“Not really.”

Eddie licks at his lips. They taste like beer, and a little like confidence.

“How about Buck?”

Buck looks at him, perplexed.

Eddie's leg is starting to cramp a bit.

He doesn't move it.

“A Buck is another name for a stag, right?” he continues. “And the stag symbolises strength and purity—

“Don't forget fertility” Buck is looking at Eddie, and it feels like something.

Eddie snorts. “'Course, don't wanna forget fertility.”

Buck smiles the first proper Buck smile of the evening, and Eddie's feels it in his chest.

“Hey, hang on, how come you know so much about stags, Edmundo?”

“You did that project with Chris about the forest.”

Buck blinks at him.

“Dude that was, like, years ago. And, as you said, I was the one learning all about the woodland creatures and different types berries and toadstools, so how do you—”

“Because you told me,” Eddie shrugs a shoulder.

Buck blinks some more.

“And you—remembered that?” he asks.

In this moment, Eddie couldn't blink, nor look away from Buck, even if somebody were to pay him.

“I remember everything you tell me.”

It's weird but it's like the air itself is crackling as they sit here, just staring at each other.

They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Or maybe it's just a single heartbeat, Eddie can't really be sure.

He watches as Buck swallows, his Adam's apple a calling card.

Eddie isn't entirely sure of why he thinks of that.

Until he is.

When Buck moves his hand, it's to slide it fully onto Eddie's thigh to just sit there, right at home.

Eddie's suddenly blinking so much he's a little worried he might be stroking.

He doesn't mean to say, “Can you smell toast?” but finds himself saying it anyway.

Buck smile is both crooked and adorable.

“You worried you're having a stroke, old man?”

“We'd have been at the same school at the same time, Buck. I'm not that much older than you.”

“You are old and I am young and everyone and the universe knows this,” Buck claims, cocky and sure of himself once more.

Eddie licks at his lips again.

“I, uh, I think I finally believe you.”

Buck now mirrors him, licking his own lips.

Cherry Chupa Chups.

“You mean about the universe?” he's asking, like he doesn't almost always knew what Eddie means.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Buck waits.

Just as Eddie is thinking he really should go put some on some sweats or something, Buck must get impatient because he replies, “I think it always wanted you to believe.”

Eddie doesn't have a clue what time it is, or whether he had dinner or not, or how he got so damn lucky.

“I'm gonna choose to believe, because you believe—and I believe in you, Buck” he says, somehow both sure and unsure of absolutely everything that is to come.

At long last, he finds he is totally okay with that.

“Anyways, I can hear it now,” he tells Buck, “and I'm listening.”

.

unedited; pls be kind!

.

edited version now found HERE on ao3 if you'd like to pop across and leave me a comment xp

[peppermintquartz]

Canon divergence in that Buck does call Tommy the next time he's free, asking to go up in a chopper (instead of the harebrained scheme of going to the BBPU game)

+-

"And that's my favorite view," says Tommy, angling the helicopter to face the Pacific. It's late in the morning so sunlight glitters on the water like diamonds scattered on blue silk.

Buck shields his eyes with his hands. "It's beautiful!" he exclaims, almost giddy with delight at the panorama.

"It is. And at night, I like to look the other way, at the city spread out before me." Tommy's aviator sunglasses hide his eyes but his big smile is on full display.

Buck can't help the shiver in his belly every time he looks at Tommy. It's clear the air is his element. Already Buck knows that Tommy is very competent - they wouldn't have pulled off the rescue otherwise - but here, without anything to distract them, Buck sees how the chopper is an extension of Tommy himself. A deft touch, a slight adjustment, and the vehicle moves smoothly for Tommy to point out different landmarks from the sky.

By the time they land, Buck's spirits are still soaring. He's spent forty minutes flying with Tommy, who not only talked about the mechanics of flying, but also answered almost all of Buck's questions without ever sounding bored. In fact, he seems happy that Buck has done some research before he came for the ride.

"Okay, now I really need to buy you that beer, and also a meal." Buck wants to bounce on his heels. He feels lighter than air, like he's just a balloon full of happy emotions.

Tommy grins, shrugging as he tucks his aviators into a pocket. "I'm free for the rest of the day," he says. Ducking his head, he adds, "Didn't feel too good leaving you alone the other day to go watch the fight, but I didn't think we'd take two hours to tour Harbor Station either."

Buck's cheeks flush. He remembers being irrationally angry when Eddie and Tommy flew off, and he did go home to pummel his pillow a little before sulking. But he's done the mature thing, which is ask Tommy for a flight demo, instead of something insane like figure out what other activities he would be doing or events he would attend and try to show up there like a toy surprise.

"Well, that was because I wanted to find out so much, and it's really your fault, because you answered everything in detail." Buck falls in step with the older man as they head to Tommy's car. "You have to be accountable for your mistakes."

Tommy laughs. Buck feels tingly and proud that he's made that happen. Daringly, he nudges Tommy's elbow with his.

"So, what would you like for lunch?" Buck asks. "My treat, as thanks for the flight."

"Sure," says Tommy with an easy smile. As they approach the car, Tommy halts.

Buck stops as well, a little concerned. "Everything okay?"

Tilting his head, Tommy studies Buck, and then his expression grows a little more nervous and serious. "I... I don't wanna presume anything, and I want you to know that, regardless of anything I'm about to say, I wanna be your friend."

Buck blinks at the older man. "Okay, um. What's this about?"

"Evan, before we go to lunch, I kinda wanna know what's going on here? I mean..." Tommy licks his lips, and Buck's gaze snaps to Tommy's mouth. "You're adorable and you're funny and, well. You're a gorgeous guy. I'm not... I'm not really sure why you wanna spend time with me. And I don't wanna get my hopes up if this is just me reading the signs wrongly."

"Uh, signs?"

Tommy's face falls. He glances away, wiping his hand over his mouth, and licks his lips again. "Shit. I've read you wrong."

Buck reaches out to touch Tommy's wrist. "Tommy, I'm not sure what you're saying."

Tommy looks back at Buck, blue eyes taking in the younger man's expression, and sighs. He flips his hand over to hold the tips of Buck's fingers.

"Hell. Might as well lay my cards out," he mutters, mostly to himself, and then looks - really looks - at Buck. "Evan, I'm gay. And these couple times we've met up, I really, really like how we click. I like your energy, and how earnest and open you are. And it doesn't hurt that you are one of the most attractive men I've ever met, and I really like spending time with you, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping I can ask you out for a date and maybe we can... find out if we could. If we could be more than friends."

There's an anxious cast to his features. Buck can see Tommy's jaw clench and the nervous swallow, and a part of Buck's mind is screaming static. Another part of him is frantically stammering, "I'm just an ally!!" But thankfully that part of him has no control of his mouth, because he instead steps closer to Tommy and-

Oh. Oh.

So that's how it feels to kiss a guy.

He pulls back slightly, but is stopped by the touch of fingers under his chin, and Tommy draws him back for a second kiss, his head angled, and-

Wow. Wow, okay. They're near the airfield in the parking lot and the breeze is cool and the sun is shining nice and warm and they are kissing, Buck is kissing Tommy and this feels right.

When they finally separate, possibly two centuries later, Buck blinks at Tommy. His face feels hot and his skin is tingling. With a small, happy grin, he says, "I would say yes to the date, if that helps."

Tommy chuckles. He licks his lips again and Buck forces himself to look away from those lips. "Okay. I'd like to ask you out on a date on Saturday night, if you're free."

"I... I'm free." Buck's grin grows brighter. He tilts his head. "Lunch, now?"

[crescenthistory]

21. (During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time)) with barty n reader pls

(may I be 🪳 anon?)

hi lovely 🪳 anon, finally i got around to your request<33 i made them have an established relationship because i craved bf!barty, hope it still scratches your itch hihi. enjoy your daily dose of barty!

Prompt: 21. During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time) from this list

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: not proofread, smut (mdni), vaguely described smut, fem!reader, sexual jokes, aftercare, accidental blood kink, scratching, established relationship, praise kink, multiple orgasms, soft!barty, barty is a masochist, reader almost cries, cursing, reader is (jokingly) mean to him and he loves it, the l word is said a lot

Note: i am so soft for this man

If there was one way to describe your relationship with one Barty Crouch Junior, it is all encompassing.

Intoxicating, larger than life, obsessive.

He was not one to act half-heartedly in any regard, to both your chagrin and infatuation. It was not half-hearted when he more or less picked you out of the crowd in your first year, claiming you as his best friend without giving you time to react, dragging you by the hand into the whirlwind of his life. It was not half-hearted when he chased off any romantic prospect for you because they were not good enough for you, Treasure, even landing some in the infirmary if they dared hurt your feelings. It was not half-hearted when he finally crumbled under the weight of his own feelings, consequences be damned, and brought his lips to yours in the abandoned Slytherin common room late at night.

And it certainly was not half-hearted how he claimed you, body and soul, ever since whenever ample opportunity arose. 

You had no complaints about that aspect of it.

Which is how your skin was shimmery with a light layer of sweat with Barty’s lazy, toothy kisses lathered all over your neck as he worked into you in the solitude of his dorm. Evenings when you could stay over, the other boys were quickly kicked out by Barty, though to no significant inconvenience for them, as Regulus was more than happy to sneak away with James and Evan was in the middle of pursuing some hot heated Ravenclaw. In their absence, Barty’s presence easily dominated the room, hands roving all over your body as his whispers of worship filled your ears and anything other than him became completely erased from your mind.

Your legs trembled where they had him in a death grip as his skillful ministrations and attentive thumb brought you towards your fourth climax of the night. His name spilled over your lips along with a string of curses as your eyes clamped shut. You could feel his smile through his kisses as he worked beautiful marks onto your shoulders – just far enough down to be shielded from view in your uniform, your shared little secret.

“Fuck, such beautiful sounds from my best girl,” Barty’s voice was hoarse from the past hours, which somehow just drove you crazier for him. “Are you gonna come for me, gorgeous? Let go for me?”

No coherent thoughts could be strung together, your mind going blank with just Barty coursing through it. Instead you moaned prettily in a way that made Barty groan and pick up his speed, determined to coax more from you, just a little more.

Your hands had been clinging to his flexing bicep and tugging at his hair, but as your body came undone beneath him, you resorted to clutching onto his shoulders and back instead. Your nails, that you always kept long enough to satisfyingly scratch Barty’s hair and arms, dug into his skin for leverage, and you half-registered the moans of pleasure he gave into the skin of your neck. As your body shook both from your climax and the movements of him against you, your fingers dragged slowly down his back.

“Oh, gods– Barty–” was all you managed to get out as you clambered onto him, seeing stars. You needed him closer, just a little closer, more.

“Love it when you say my name, Treasure,” he whispered into you as his hips stuttered, finally reaching his own high with a groan. “S’good for me, s’perfect.”

You shakily kiss his shoulder, palms moving to smooth over his back you had just been clawing at, the movement instinctual and dripping with affection. Calming him down, gearing him through his own earth-shattering orgasm.

His movements slowed down, dragging the seconds out, before he finally stilled against you, collapsing with his weight onto you in that way he knew you loved. His hands that had been consuming every piece of flesh, every curve of your body, became almost painfully light now, brushing up your sides, over your arms, a silent thank you. You could read this man without needing to open your eyes or ears.

For a minute you laid there, regaining your breath while also revelling in the smell of him mixed with the haze of sex that filled the room. 

Then, Barty laughed breathily into your shoulder before retreating from his cocoon to look at you with lovesick eyes, propping his weight up onto his elbows.

“That was one for the history books.” His grin was lopsided, sweat still over his eyebrow.

You laughed in turn, giving him a slight roll of your eyes, but you couldn’t disagree. The longer you were together, the more you learned of each other, the more passionate your frequent trysts became. You didn’t think you could love him more.

Still – “You’re deranged, Junior,” you said through a laugh – you couldn’t let the opportunity to tease him slide.

Unfazed, Barty leaned down to press a lazy kiss to your lips and despite your teasing you had no inhibition with kissing him back, passionate and slow. “Maybe,” he said between kisses. “But you love me all the more for it. And I love you too.”

You mumbled an I love you, silly against his lips and you could feel him grin against you. 

All too soon, Barty pulled back and away from you, rolling off your body to reach for his wand on the bedside table to clean the both of you – and the sheets – up. You gazed after him with a look you knew your friends would never let you live down if they were here to see it, studying his features as he laid on his stomach, stretching his arm out. One of his legs were still tangled with yours, as if he couldn’t stand being completely without your touch. The muscles in his bicep flexed deliciously, as did the ripples across his shoulders and back, and –

“Merlin’s tits, Barty, your back!” you exclaimed, instantly snapping out of your daze.

It was normal for you both to be quite marked up after being with each other, especially on nights like this where you could truly take your time. Your hips often had some beautiful bruises grazing its sides, hickies covering your chest and collarbone, sometimes your neck if Barty felt particularly possessive. In turn, you loved giving him your own love bites and his shoulders and biceps often had small indents from your nails digging into them.

But this– Your eyes roved over Barty’s back, the usual pink streaks of teased skin that you left there were now bright red and razor thin, blood piping out at random places. There were many of them, trailing over and around each other, a bloody, angry constellation of your desperation from mere minutes ago.

At your outburst, Barty looked at you over his shoulder with a smug smirk, fingers finally curling around his wand. “What of my back?”

“I– it’s–” you sputtered, one hand wildly gesturing towards him, the other half-covering your mouth as you sat up to get a better view. “You’re bleeding, darling I’m so sorry.”

Barty sat up to match you, grabbing you by your thighs to drag you closer to him. A stupid grin was still plastered over his face. 

“Oh, I know,” he smiled. “It was so fucking hot.”

His words didn’t register with you as you kept fussing over him, attempting to sit at his side so you could see his wounds and his face all at the same time. His hand on your thigh squeezed as he continued to laugh silently.

“You’re bleeding.” You repeated, letting your finger ghost over the skin right beside a particularly bloody scratch. "Gods, I'm so sorry." Your eyes began to sting as they flitted all over his back, and at that Barty seemed to snap out of his humour.

“Hey, Treasure, hey.” He grabbed your hands with his, forcing you to look at him. “It’s fine, love, don’t worry. It’s more than fine actually, I liked it – loved it even. You should really make me bleed more often.”

You stared at him incredulously, as if he was being particularly stupid, eyes still slightly glossy with tears. “What?”

He laughed even more at your confusion, which almost shifted the apologies on the tip of your tongue into scolding. 

“As I said, it was hot. I knew you were drawing blood as you were doing it – didn’t you hear how much I loved it?” His tone was teasing, mischief evident on his face.

You opened and closed your mouth at that, trying to make your post-orgasm brain keep up with the conversation. “I actually didn’t hear anything by that point,” you mumbled, looking between your hands clutched with his and his face, which now looked impossibly more smug.

“Right, that’s on me then,” he teased. You pretended to lightly shove him, but he used your movement against you, trapping you in his arms and dragging you closer to his body.

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” 

“Was I stupid when I made you come once on my fingers, once on my tongue and twice on my–”

You pinched him, making him yelp in a voice so light it made the both of you laugh. You squeezed him in your arms, careful not to let your hands touch his still bleeding back.

“I still wanna say sorry.” You pulled back to look at him. The threat of tears were gone, but your lower lip jutted out ever so slightly, enough that he simply had to kiss it better. So he did, lips softly brushing yours in a way that calmed you down every time.

“Well, don’t,” he murmured against your lips. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, darling. I actually give you blanket consent to please make me bleed again next time. However you want.” He winked at you and you lightly swatted at his arm, though you couldn’t ignore how your blood warmed at his words.

“Shut up,” you mumbled before kissing him again. Your tone made it clear to Barty that he won that conversation.

“As much as I’d love to keep kissing you.” Barty pulled his lips away from yours, holding your face in between his palms. “Can I please clean us up like I wanted, now?”

You simply nodded, leaning back onto your elbows beside him as he quickly flicked his wand over your bodies and the bed. A sigh escaped your lips at the warm feeling across your thighs and stomach, as if somebody had carefully dragged a warm towel over you and immediately dried you off. Barty smiled at you softly when he heard your sounds of comfort.

You reached out to take the wand from his hands and moved to point it towards his back when he snapped out of staring at you and caught the tip of the wand with his hand before you had the time to use it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You looked at him confused. “Cleaning you up?”

“I already did that,” he retorted. 

“I meant the cuts, Barty.”

He immediately shook his head at that, prying the wand from your fingers – his wand, that wouldn’t even have been as effective when you used it – and giving you an almost offended look. “Nope. They’re staying, if I wanted them gone I would have healed them.”

“Barty–” you began to chide, but he cut you off.

“I want to keep them, Treasure. Little reminder of you. We don’t heal the hickies I give you, hm?” His voice was equal parts teasing and affectionate now, as if your scratches was something precious to him.

“My hickies aren’t painful and bleeding.” You deadpanned at him. He just shrugged, as if your point was entirely irrelevant. 

“You’ll stain the sheets with your blood,” you tried then. 

“How unfortunate that I’m not a wizard who can remove blood stains without any effort.” He tauntingly waved the wand in your face then before leaning over to place it back on his nightstand.

You just groaned at him, hoping he knew that it meant you are insufferable and impossible. He did, and it warmed his heart.

“C’mon, Treasure,” he drawled as he snuck back up beside you, pulling the duvet around the two of you, creating your own perfect cocoon. “You should be flattered, if anything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but still pulled him further into your arms, limbs entangling and bare chests pressed against each other. A relaxed sigh escaped you, indicating that you were in no way actually indignant. 

“Just don’t want you to be in pain, B.” Your hand moved up to play with his hair, culprits lightly scratching at the nape of his neck.

Barty’s eyes softened at that and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “‘S not painful, love, I’m good. I’m all good.” His words were whispered against your skin. You closed your eyes at the sensation, the safety of it all.

“You sure?”

“I swear it.”

You hummed, relenting, and finally buried your face in his neck as he pulled you closer. Sporadic kisses were pressed into your hair, your shoulder, as you continued with your soft conversation filled with praises and small declarations of love. You didn’t notice you were beginning to slip away before your breath slowed against Barty’s skin and he glanced down, smiling when he saw your sleeping form. His fingers drawing patterns on your back spelled out I love you as he kissed your forehead, lips lingering on your skin.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[myjelllybean]

Who's the dad

This is a Evan Buckley (9-1-1) fanfiction I have finally decided to post. It is the first or second fanfiction I have written in my whole life so this is probably bad. English is not my first language so there could be a few mistakes.

I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it. If anyone has feedback, I am open for it.<3

Summary: A few months after a one-night stand leaves (Y/N) pregnant, she unexpectedly meets the baby's father at a BBQ at her dad's fire station.

The blonde guy was hot, (Y/N) had to admit. His baby blue shirt lets his eyes glow in the most perfect way.

“So why are you here today?”, (Y/N) asked. They both had a silent deal: no name’s, no prying for information.

“Hard day at work”, the man answered. “You?”

“Hard week.” (Y/N) knew she was already drunk, but she ordered another tequila. In the afternoon, she brought her kids to their grandparents, Bobby and Athena. The reason she told them: I need the evening for drinking until I don’t even know my name anymore.

She knew drinking wasn’t going to solve her problem, but it would numb her for at least one night. It would make her forget the pain.

The man nodded, but she didn’t even know what she had said before.

They drank a few drinks together until both of them saw black spots dancing in front of their eyes.

(Y/N) knew it was wrong what she wanted to do know. She wanted to kiss this man. She wanted to forget why she was here tonight. She knew exactly how wrong it would be. How disappointed everyone would look at her. But screw it. She wanted him and she wanted him now.

She leant forward and pressed a kiss on his lips. It felt so right, but so wrong. It didn’t matter. The blonde deepened the kiss. The next thing (Y/N) knew was that they were in the man’s apartment. In his bed.

___

(Y/N) did her best to hide the baby bump – but it didn’t help much. Maybe she could tell everyone she has just eaten too much when they were in Europe. She hasn’t seen anyone of her family in the last 5 months. They didn’t know she was pregnant and they are not supposed to. Half a year ago she packed her stuff and drove away with the kids.

After her husband died and she slept with this stranger, she had to leave. She wasn’t able to stay anymore. She was ashamed of herself. How was she able to sleep with someone just some hours after Henry died? They weren’t always happy but she loved him. He had been her world. Until he was gone.

“Mommy? How much longer we have to drive?” James asked from the back of the car. He was the most impatient of her kids.

“Only around half an hour then you can finally see grandpa and grandma again.”

(Y/N) heard a sigh from her son and chuckled.

“Is there going to be cake? Is grandpa going to make pasta for us?” Cameron. She and James are twins and couldn’t be more similar. Both impatient and always hungry until they ate two bites and complain about being too full to eat any more.

“I don’t know. I have never been to a party at the station.” Nobody knew they were going to come. It was going to be a surprise.

Suddenly, Emily began to cry in her seat. The two-year old always slept in the car, but when she woke up, she always had a shock and started to cry when she noticed they were driving.

“Liv, can you please give Emily her pacifier?” The 14-year-old didn’t seem to hear her mom, as she had her headphones in her ears and scrolled through TikTok’s.

“Liv! Give your sister her damn pacifier!” Finally.

After two weeks in Europe, (Y/N) was already super annoyed. She tried to keep it cool, but it wasn’t easy to be with four kids and pregnant when she didn’t have her husband around.

___

Just a few minutes later, (Y/N) parked in front of the firehouse. She had been here before. Not inside it but she had dropped off her father a few times when his car was at the car repair.

“Ok! We are here! All out of the car!” (Y/N) picked up her youngest and followed the rest of the kids inside the firehouse.

She didn’t see many people downstairs, but around 50 people were upstairs.

“(Y/N)? Hey! You’re back! Where were you in the last few months? We tried to call you but you didn’t answer. We were so worried!” Bobby literally ran to her and hugged her as tightly as possible with Emily between them. “She grew up so much”, he said, reaching out to stroke Emily’s back.

“Yes. She absolutely did.” (Y/N) could see the worried and exhausted expression on her father’s face and immediately felt sorry for not even writing him and Athena a message that she and the kids were ok.

“May I introduce you to the team?”, Bobby asked after hugging the twins and Liv, who finally put away her headphones.

The 118’s Captain led his family to a bunch of people in uniforms.

“These guys are Eddie, Chimney, Hen and Buck.” (Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat. Fuck. The super-hot guy stood in front of her. With his uniform he looked even better that in his baby blue shirt he wore the last time. Why the fuck did she still remember what this guy had worn when they met in the bar?!

“Meet (Y/N), Liv, James, Cameron and Emily.”

“Hey! Nice to meet y’all”, (Y/N) said overly friendly, trying to hide the surprise, as well as Buck did.

“Grandpa? You have cake?”, Cameron asked Bobby.

“Of course. A party without cake isn’t a party. Come on, I’ll show you all.” Bobby led the kids away from (Y/N) and the team, over to the kitchen island on which many plates of cake were standing.

“’So… you are Cap’s daughter?”, a brown-haired man asked, who (Y/N) remembered as Eddie.

“Yepp, that’s me.” (Y/N) looked at Buck who looked just as surprised, as she felt.

“So, you are Buck?”, she asked him just as a try to build a conversation. She tugged gently on her shirt, as she didn’t want Buck to notice her baby bump.

“Uhm… yes. I am. Evan Buckley. So… these are your kids? You look quite young”, Buck asked and (Y/N) furrowed her brow until she realized, they haven’t talked about ages when they spent the night together. She was quite young for already having 4 kids. She had Liv when she was 16, but she barely told people, as she always got these judging looks.

“Yes, they are.” (Y/N) stared at the ground, unable to hold eye contact with the man she had a breathtaking night.

“Father’s not in the picture?”, Eddie asked and (Y/N) could see that Buck was relieved, that his friend asked the question, so he didn’t seem too suspicious.

“Um, no. He died 5 months ago. Car accident.” Instead of staring at the ground, (Y/N) now looked at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears, which always threatened to flow freely, whenever she talked about her late husband.

When she finally managed to make eye contact with Evan, she could see pain written over his face. Her husband died 5 months ago, around the same time, she slept with him. Had he been some kind of replacement? He knew they agreed to one night – no personal information, but it still hurt to know she didn’t actually feel the tiniest bit. She only had tried to compensate everything.

---

Around 3 hours later, in which the 118 got a small call once but came back after only one and a half hour, they all sat at the big table, because it was dinner time. Most of the time, (Y/N) stood on the sidelines, as she didn’t really feel comfortable around all these people she barely knew, and Buck. Nobody seemed to have noticed the baby bump which was covered under her shirt.

And now, (Y/N) even felt nauseous and had cramps in her lower belly. Her other pregnancies had gone quite well, except the last few months with the twins, but this pregnancy was terrible. She already had to go to hospital 4 times in the last 5 months, as she couldn’t keep anything down and had been severely dehydrated.

After only 2 bites, (Y/N) had to lay down the fork because she felt like she would throw up right away if she ate only one more bite. She had already thrown up breakfast and everything she drank today. She was lucky no one noticed she hasn’t eaten a piece of cake before.  

“Are you ok?”, the brown-haired man from before asked. Eddie? (Y/N) has always been terrible with names and couldn’t remember any. It took her 2 weeks to even remember Henry’s name after she met him, something he also made fun of, even years later.

“Uh yes. Just not feeling too great today”, she answered, trying to suppress the feeling to be sick. Her throat felt tight and her stomach felt like it was twisting and turning. The cramps were still present. She knew she wasn’t having a miscarriage as she once had one, and it felt different. The symptoms were pretty much the same, but she had another feeling. She had felt like something was missing, but this here wasn’t any better.

“You sure? You don’t look too good and you haven’t eaten much. Don’t you like the food?”, her father intervened now.

“The food’s great. Really. I haven’t been feeling my best today, that’s it.”

“Do you want one of the medics to take a look at you?” Bobby really seemed worried, but his daughter waved him off.

“Dad. Don’t make more out of it than it is.” Her dad made an acknowledging sound and (Y/N) thanked him silently with a small nod.

(Y/N) fidgeted with her hands, a nervous habit, she always did when she felt uncomfortable. Today, this many people were too much. She has never liked being around many people for a long time. She felt like everyone was staring at her and making fun off her or thinking of her as a disappointment when she did something wrong. Her kids were different, except of Liv. Liv came after her mom in these things, while the others luckily came after their dad and were the most social persons in this world.

Everyone looked at (Y/N), as she suddenly stood up, because a wave of nausea waved over her. As fast as possible she went to the restrooms, but only made it to the sink, where she threw up the bit of water she had managed to drink before. She rinsed her mouth and looked in the mirror. She looked like shit. Her skin was pale and her lips dry.

The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. She was around as tall as (Y/N) was and wore a wine-red shirt, that showed she worked at the 911 dispatch center. Had she been at the dinner table before? Or has (Y/N) just not seen her?

“Oh hey. Sorry. Just needed a break from out there. Who are you? I have never seen you here before. I am Maddie by the way. Chimney’s fiancé, Buck’s sister.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Buck’s sister?

“(Y/N). Bobby’s daughter. Nice to meet you.”

“Are you okay? You don’t look too well.” Again, this question. No, she wasn’t ok. But she didn’t say anything, so everyone should stop asking her. If she wanted someone to know she wasn’t well, she would tell.

“It’s okay. Just not feeling my best today.” Maddie nodded.

“Ok.” She didn’t pry further to get information, what (Y/N) was very thankful for.

“Soo. You are Bobby’s daughter? Athena has never mentioned, that Bobby has a daughter. She usually talks about everything.” Maddie furrowed her brow.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

“He doesn’t like talking about his private life too much.”

(Y/N) went back to the table, after she was sure she wouldn’t have to throw up again. But when she arrived at the dinner table again, she felt she was dizzy. Congratulations. First, she was sick and now she was dizzy because she didn’t drink or eat enough today.

She caught Bobby’s concerned gaze as he was looking at her, before everything went black.

___

“Heyyy! Here we go. You with us again?” She felt something painful on her chest and after a few moments she realized it was someone performing sternal rub to bring her back around. (Y/N) grumbled something.

When she tried to sit up again, there was a firm hand on her shoulder that kept her laid down.

“Damn, let me sit up if I want to. I am fine.” But (Y/N) noticed on her own how hoarse she sounded from being sick.

The hand suddenly disappeared from her shoulder, but when (Y/N) sat up, the hand was back at her back to steady her and kept her from falling over. Finally, she managed to open her eyes and caught look on the brown-haired man – Eddie. Evan sat directly next to her.

“We are just going to check a few things, ok?” All (Y/N) did, was giving an acknowledging sound from her.

The next thing she felt was a pulse-oximeter being slipped on her index finger and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm. She winced when Eddie inflated it and it squeezed tightly around her arm, which made her eyes well up with tears.

She had never liked the BP reading. When she was a kid, she cried freely as it made her arm feel like needles were jabbing it.

“Sorry.” Eddie was quick to deflate the cuff again after noticing the tears in (Y/N)’s eyes but she just shook her head to show everything’s ok. “BP’s 108/70. We are going to give you something to raise it again.”

“No! Wait!” (Y/N) frantically said. “I… I…” She made a sign for Eddie to come near to her so she could whisper into his ear without anyone hearing it. “I am pregnant but no one can know yet. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Okayyy… I think we should go somewhere more private.” (Y/N) nodded agreeing.

Despite the other’s confused looks, they made their way to the locker room. Once they were there, Eddie began talking again.

“Has this happened before?”

“Yes, I already was in hospital because of it but it is just this morning sickness. I can’t keep anything down and it makes me dehydrated.” When (Y/N) looked to her right, she could see Buck looking at them but he couldn’t hear anything, right? He wasn’t as near and it was quite loud upstairs.

“Mhm. I want to hook you up on an IV if that’s ok with you? I don’t want you to be as dehydrated as you are now and I figure you don’t want a trip to the ER?”

“Yes, if that is possible, please.”

Only a few seconds later, (Y/N) could see her dad storming into the locker room.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He looked kind of mad but also worried.

“Ehm… It is complica…”

“She is dehydrated because she didn’t drink or eat enough. She just wants to be alone for a moment and I can give her an IV,” Eddie intervened. (Y/N) shot him a thankful gaze and a tiny smile. She liked Eddie. He was really kind. She couldn’t think of any of her friends, who would do that for her.

“Mhm. Ok. I am going to call Athena. She said she would be here earlier. I’ll come back later.”

Bobby disappeared as fast as he came into the room.

“Thanks. For not telling him.” Eddie smiled at her.

“It’s not on me. And I think there are going to be better circumstances for that talk. How far are you?”

“5 months.”

“Ah. May I ask…”, he hesitated for a moment. “Is it your late husband’s baby?”

“No.” You didn’t know for sure why you told him, but he kind of let you feel calm and safe. “We didn’t… you know… the time before he died. We argued a lot. Had a one-night stand just a few hours after he died.”

“You know the father? Were you able to call and tell him?” Eddie looked honestly interested while he put an IV bag out of the medkit.

(Y/N) shook her head before nodding.

“I haven’t seen him… until today.” Eddie looked shocked and raised his eyebrows.

“Today? Is he here? At the station?”

(Y/N) nodded guiltily and looked at the ground when she heard Eddie chuckle.

“Damn, tell me more. Who is it?”

“Buck.”

“Buck?” The firefighter looked even more shocked than before and you nodded again.

“I didn’t know his name we agreed to ‘no personal information’. Why would I know he worked at my dad’s workplace? God… when he will find out he is going to be so pissed.” Eddie shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think so. He will understand. And hey. You don’t have to defend yourself.” She smiled at his kindness.

She watched as Eddie swabbed the alcohol pad over the back of her hand.

“I would recommend to close your eyes if you are not good with needles”, he suggested. But (Y/N) couldn’t. She needed to see what Eddie was doing, even though she wasn’t good with needles. When the firefighter pushed the needle in the back of her hand, she let out a small squeal.

“Told you to keep your eyes closed but you refused to listen.” She heard Eddie chuckle. “Do you have any other symptoms I should be worried about?”

“I have cramps”, she admitted.

“Lower belly?” (Y/N) nodded. Why couldn’t she just have been home. She would lie on the couch and relax, but instead she was here, being poked and prodded by a firefighter.

“Can I take a look?” She nodded again. Eddie pulled her shirt over her abdomen and pressed his palm on different spots. (Y/N) looked upstairs, and froze. Fuck. She forgot that Evan was still standing upstairs, looking at the locker room. Looking at her.

Her eyes widened. Why had she agreed to this? Why didn’t she insist on being ok and went home? Why was she so stupid? She wanted to slap herself for not thinking.

Eddie seemed to notice her sudden panic, the pulse-oximeter, which was still clipped to her finger, chirped in high pitched noises.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. Deep breaths. What’s up?”

“B… Buck.” The firefighter looked where she was pointing at and sucked in a deep breath.

“Ok. That’s ok. We’ll fix that, after we are finished here, ok? It’ll be ok. Don’t worry. Try to breathe with me, the baby won���t like you breathing like that.” Demonstrative, Eddie took some deep breaths. “Do you know the gender yet?”

(Y/N) could tell that Eddie was only trying to distract her but she played along.

“A… girl. It’s a girl. Again.” She laughed. Her breathing became slower, steadier.

“That’s great. You already told your kids?”

“Mhm.”

“How did they react? Are they happy?” Eddie grinned at her.

“Y… yes. They are. James was a bit d- disappointed at first. H- he hoped he would finally get a brother t- to play soccer with.” (Y/N) smiled. “But the g- girls were all over t-the moon.”

The brown-haired man, put an oxygen mask over her face, which she tried to pull off, but his hand was immediately back, to hold the mask in place.

“Let it on, please”, he said with a look at the pulse-oximeter which was still chirping. “It’ll make it easier to breathe for you.

(Y/N) nodded, even though she hated the feeling of the mask, which made her feel the opposite of ‘easier to breathe’.

“Can I have a listen to the baby’s heartbeat?” After he had seen (Y/N) nodded again, he took the stethoscope and pressed the diaphragm to her belly.

“Looks good so far. The heartbeat is a bit fast for my liking but it’s nothing too concerning, just take some deep breaths, ok?”

“Copy, Firefighter Diaz.” (Y/N) took some deep breaths.

Just a few seconds later, someone stormed into the locker room. Buck.

“You… you are pregnant?” Buck hoped that (Y/N) would tell him it wasn’t his. That it was her husband’s.

“Yes.” She was surprised that her voice didn’t sound as high and panicking as she thought it would. She was scared. Scared of Buck’s reaction, which became even more clear, as the pulse-oximeter started to chirp frantically again.

Eddie took a look and was surprised how high the shown numbers were.

“Deep breaths”, he commanded her. But she couldn’t.

“Who’s the dad? Is it mine? Or is there a tiny chance, that it is your husband’s?” Even though (Y/N) thought something like that would come out of Buck’s mouth, she felt disappointment deep in her. She hoped he would not sound as panicked as he was now.

“Your’s.” (Y/N) fell silent, holding her breath in anticipation of what Evan would say now.

“Oh… wow. I have to admit that is a shock. Why… why didn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you.”

“I didn’t have your number, your address, your workplace. Not even your name! I didn’t even know if you lived in LA or somewhere else! What should I have done?”

Eddie put the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, that she just put off again, but she immediately put it back to the floor. She didn’t want to breathe in the oxygen. It made her feel lightheaded and nauseous and gave her a headache.

“(Y/N)! Damn, breathe properly now the baby’s not comfortable anymore. Buck, I think you should go now and let her breathe a bit without the stress, this conversation puts on her.”

“No, he won’t go now! Not until this conversation is finished!” (Y/N) glared at Eddie. She wasn’t sure if that were the pregnancy hormones speaking out of her which have made her a bit temperamental these last few months.

“What do you want to do now? Buck? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you want to be a part in the baby’s life? Do you want to be part in MY life? I need to know it.” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Definitely the hormones which made her act strange at the moment.

“I don’t know exactly what I want to do now. But I don’t have a girlfriend. And I want to be part of the baby’s life. I want to be their father…”

“Her. It’s a girlie. Again.” (Y/N) could see Evan smiling a bit.

“Ok. I want to be HER father and spend time with her. And I think I would like to try to go on a date… with you. If you think you are ready. I liked you the last time we met, even though that could be because I had been really drunk that night.” Buck laughed and blushed a bit.

“I think… I think we can give it a try. I don’t know if I am ready for everything. But I do know I am ready for something. And maybe that could be with you.”

“Ok… uhm… great. And now you should really try to breathe properly with that mask. I know it’s not great, but even I can recognize how high your vitals are.”

She did as she was told. (Y/N) knew she liked Buck. He was cute. She wouldn’t have imagined to see a man like him blushing when talking about a baby and dating.

“I’m nauseous.” Eddie and Buck both looked a bit worried.

“Deep breaths. I think it’s just the IV and oxygen. I put some meds in the IV that should help with the belly cramps, that could make you feel nauseous.”

(Y/N) only nodded. She suddenly felt exhausted. The adrenaline of the day started to wear of.

“I think I’m gonna drive the kids home and we are going to relax a bit while watching some tv. Thank you for everything.”

“Wait. Stop. I won’t let you drive home alone. You don’t feel good and I wouldn’t like to know you don’t have anyone with you except you kids.” She nodded again. Evan was right. It would be stupid to not have anyone around her.

“I can come with you. Just if that’s ok with you.”

“Yes. That would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. Shall we take your car?”

“Mhm.” She was thankful. She could really imagine Buck as a boyfriend. He is great.

---

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Evan laughed. He, (Y/N) and Liv were sat on the couch, watching a firefighter show, (Y/N) and Liv had been addicted to in the last few weeks.

“It doesn’t matter! This show is great!” Liv and Evan discussed about the mistakes in the show since around 10 minutes and it made (Y/N) smile. It was like a real family. Even though it hurt her a bit that it wasn’t Henry, sitting here. But let’s be honest: Henry would have never watched a show like that.

“That doesn’t change the fact, that you don’t use the saw like that. It’s just not safe!”

“Then just do not pay attention to the details.” Now, it was Liv laughing. (Y/N) hasn’t seen her daughter that happy in the last few months. She tried to cover up her emotions but it didn’t work completely. Her eyes started to burn and she felt a pressure building up. No, she wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Evan. Her daughter. No.

“I’ll go to toilet for a moment.” She hoped nobody would notice she was about to cry, but her voice gave it away. She sounded hoarse and her voice broke at some point.

She locked the bathroom door and sank down to the cold floor, where she curled up, leaning her back on the even colder wall. Her hand was rubbing circles over her swollen belly. Damn it.

(Y/N) knew she missed Henry. She knew her kids have missed him every second since his death. But she was scared. Scared that moving on with Evan would make her forget her late husband. She heard a gentle knock on the wooden bathroom door.

“May I come in?” Buck.

“Ok.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She attempted to brush the tears away but it really didn’t work. Her eyes were still read, as well as her cheeks.

She got up to unlock the door, for Buck to come in. After he stepped inside the room, he closed the door again. He sat down next to her, and (Y/N) leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What’s up?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing.” Evan shot her a look, that said more than a thousand words.

“This honestly doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I don’t want to forget Henry. And I am scared. I have never had a relationship before him. And I still have cramps. And I still don’t feel too good in general. And I am scared of giving birth alone. And I am scared of everything else in my life.” Buck looked at her with a concerned expression and immediately pulled her into a hug as (Y/N) began to cry again.

“Ok. So, we first go to hospital, because these cramps make me worried, and then we can figure everything else out, ok?” He pressed a sloppy kiss on (Y/N)’s forehead, and she nodded.

“Mhm. But you need to help me get up, the baby is in the way.”

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I think sometimes about Tommy and Evan, a few years in. Maybe they're recently married. Maybe Tommy's hair is greying just a bit. I think about Tommy finding a baby left at his station while coming into work. I think about how that baby cries whenever it's in anyone else's arms other than Tommy's. I think about Tommy volunteering to stay behind that day to be with the baby until CPS comes.

I think about Athena filling Tommy in on the status of the baby's parents - Dad died before she was born; Mom, unfortunately, found herself in a car accident that killed her that morning after dropping the baby off. No other relatives. Nowhere to call home.

I think about Tommy looking at this baby girl and thinking about his own time in the system. When he wasn't with his father; when he was bounced around foster families and then group homes.

I think about Tommy having this ache for this baby the moment that he met her. This connection he never thought he would have. This yearning to be there for this small baby.

He wants this kid.

He wants to be there for her.

He wants - he wants to adopt her.

Which feels like too fast of a feeling.

Too soon.

I think about Tommy panicking in the back of his mind at the thought of that; wondering if this is even a good idea. If this would change the relationship he had with Evan. If Evan would want this so suddenly. If this would be the moment Evan realized that maybe Tommy's past fears were true; that Tommy wasn't the man Evan wanted to be with for the rest of his life; that Evan would leave Tommy for this.

Which are irrational thoughts.

Cruel thoughts.

Yet somehow, none of those thoughts stops Tommy from volunteering to watch the baby for a few days when the woman from CPS talks about having some issues figuring out a placement for the baby for the next few nights.

And.

Well.

Tommy should have asked Evan. He tries to warn Evan, but the warning goes to voicemail. Tommy goes home with this baby, unsure of whether or not Evan will be mad or confused or pissed that Tommy made this sudden life decision all on his own, even if it's only for a few days.

Tommy tells himself it will only be for a few days. Because how could it be for more?

And when Tommy gets home, he finds that Evan had swung around Maddie and Chimney's place to steal Jee's old crib and was currently putting it back together. Evan apologizes; he thought he sent a text back and - and he sees the kid too.

And.

Tommy doesn't know if it's the same instant connection, but Evan's always been good with kids. He seems happy to take care of her.

And.

Well.

The baby isn't easy. She's crying and up at weird hours and she would be an absolute nightmare if she wasn't so cute; so sweet in the moments of reprieve.

Evan doesn't seem to complain about it.

And.

And maybe Tommy falls more in love with the baby even with the challenges. He really does. He has trouble leaving the kid alone. He just wants to be around her and make sure she's happy and okay.

And.

It gets to the point where Evan notices something because it's Evan who reminds Tommy reluctantly that they're only keeping her for a few days as CPS sorts out a good placement for the baby. A few days that had already turned into almost a week.

And.

That was when.

Tommy said it.

That maybe he didn't want to have her temporarily. Maybe - maybe he wanted her for as long as they could have her.

Which.

Throws Evan for a loop. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it wasn't exactly something that he had expected. At least, not right then. With them both in jobs that don't exactly have the best hours for raising a kid. They thought they would probably be older parents if they decided to be parents later on.

Well.

Tommy would already be an older parent as is.

But Evan talks about how they probably couldn't adopt her if they both stayed firefighters.

And.

Well.

Tommy proposes that maybe he won't be anymore.

I think about Tommy telling Evan this. How Evan would be confused and tell Tommy that he doesn't have to do that; that this is his career too. But Tommy has been thinking about this for a while.

And.

Tommy's goals have never really been career-oriented. He just wants a family. A home. Loved ones. People who care for him as much as he cares for them.

Not like Tommy can't pivot into piloting or part-time EMT work. Hell, even fire inspector work.

Tommy could fly in his off time. He could save people in other ways.

There is only one baby. This one. Only her. He wants this. He really does.

And.

Tommy's not sure. He's not sure if Evan's exactly okay with that explanation. He isn't sure if Evan is okay with Tommy turning his life upside down for this small baby he met only a week ago. Hell, Tommy's not even sure if Evan is prepared for this; if he even wants this as much as Tommy; if he even wants this to begin with.

But.

But Evan looks at the baby.

And he looks at Tommy.

And there is something there; something there as Evan asked Tommy if he is really serious about this. If he is really sure that is what he wants to do. If this is the leap he wants to take.

And there is no reluctance.

There is no faltering.

Tommy says he does.

He wants this.

And.

Evan nods.

He looks between Tommy and this new baby that has become part of their lives.

And he says that they will figure this all out, then.

And maybe later, a year from that fateful night, Tommy and Evan are in their bed together as Evan confesses that he had been worried when they first decided to take in the baby.

He was worried about if they could do it. If it would be a bad idea for Tommy to reduce his hours like that. If Tommy would grow resentful of the change and how Evan was still a full-time firefighter. He was worried that whatever big beginning feelings Tommy had would wane and they would have this kid that Tommy had gotten from the spark of initial meetings alone.

Evan was worried that he wouldn't catch up to Tommy.

That he wouldn't connect with her like Tommy did. Because there was a connection, Evan saw it the moment Tommy walked into their home with the baby. And Evan hadn't quite had that at first. It took a little time for Evan to feel that connection and he felt a little guilty to admit that; a little ashamed.

But he loves her so much now.

And - and Evan sees how much happier Tommy is with her. Semi-retired and taking care of their girl.

He's happy that Tommy pushed for it; to have this baby in their lives. Evan can't imagine a world without her now.

And.

And Tommy is just happy.

I think about Tommy talking about how lonely he was before Evan. Friendly with everyone, good friends to no one. No family. No love life. Just him and his hobbies and his career.

A constant cycle of distraction, distraction, distraction.

And then.

The cruise incident.

And so much of Tommy's life changed. He had people he actually called friends. He had a support system in a way he never had before. He had that family he had been searching for his whole life.

And he found all of that with Evan.

This is Tommy's happiness. Friends. Loved ones. Family. And he found it with Evan. And he can barely believe he has this. Has Evan. Has their girl.

Sometimes, I think about that as one of the happiest endings Tommy could have. A lonely man who distracted himself with work and hobbies finding himself surrounded by family; choosing family.

I don't know.

I think about that sometimes.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Buck's favorite words

Just a little idea I couldn't get out of my head so enjoy this ficlet 🙂

***

Buck isn't sure why he likes the word so much, but every time he says it, it's like sugar on his tongue. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and like everything is right with the world.

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I'm seeing someone," Buck says to the pretty girl he's just evacuated from a 3-alarm blaze. His voice is kind but firm, a far cry from the Buck of old who might have preened at the attention.

"Oh come on, handsome hero man. Give me your number," she purrs, reaching out to touch his arm.

Her relentlessness gives Buck a little push, and he finds himself using the word for the first time in public. It rolls off his tongue easily, filling him with a quiet pride.

"Sorry, but like I said, I'm taken," he says, gently stepping back. Then, with a smile that's both apologetic and genuinely happy, he adds, "I have a boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sits in the air between them, and Buck feels a warmth spread through his chest.

From then on, he finds himself saying it as often as he can, each time feeling that same warmth, that same quiet joy.

At the flower shop, where he's picking out a bouquet for his and Tommy's dinner date, the florist asks, "Do you need help picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Buck replies with an easy smile. "And I'm good, thanks."

At the coffee shop, he leans on the counter, eyes scanning the pastry case. "Do you have any cranberry orange scones? My boyfriend loves them," Buck asks the barista warmly.

Later, at the bar waiting for Tommy, a pretty girl sends a drink over. Buck catches her eye, raises the glass in thanks, and then gently shakes his head. When she approaches, he's ready with a now-familiar phrase: "I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

Each time he says it, 'boyfriend' feels more natural, more right. It's not just a word anymore—it's a declaration of who he is, who they are together. And Buck finds he loves that feeling almost as much as he loves Tommy.

There's nothing better than the word boyfriend. That is, until a new word takes its place.

At a restaurant, the waiter approaches with menus in hand. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"

Buck's eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks, my fiancé should be here soon." The word 'fiancé' rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and perfect.

On a work call to a new gym, Buck finds himself pacing with excitement. "Wow! This place is nice. Do you have a free trial? I bet my fiancé would love to try it out." He can't help but emphasize the word, feeling a thrill every time he says it.

Later, meeting with the wedding caterers, Tommy sits right next to him, their hands intertwined. Buck squeezes Tommy's hand as he says, "No, we definitely don't want German chocolate cake. My fiancé is allergic to coconut." He glances at Tommy, catching his soft smile at the word.

With each use, 'fiancé' becomes more than just a title. It's a promise, a future, a declaration of forever. And Buck realizes that while 'boyfriend' was wonderful, 'fiancé' is magical—a constant reminder of the commitment they've made and the life they're building together.

But the magic of 'fiancé' only lasts for so long before it's also replaced with something even more profound.

At the hospital, Buck's heart races as he approaches the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Evan Kinard. I just got a call that my husband was here." The word 'husband' feels both new and familiar on his lips.

The receptionist nods reassuringly. "Oh sure, it looks like your husband has just been discharged. Just smoke inhalation and a minor concussion."

Later, at Maddie's place, Buck finds himself chuckling as Chimney and Tommy argue about movies. He turns to his sister with a grin. "I don't know whose husband is more stubborn, yours or mine."

At the 118's karaoke night, Buck takes the stage, his eyes locked on Tommy. "I'd like to dedicate this song to my husband," he announces, his voice full of love. As the opening notes of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" begin to play, Buck starts to sing, his voice soft and sincere. Tommy's face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and deep affection as Buck serenades him in front of their friends and colleagues.

Each time Buck says 'husband', he feels a surge of pride and love. It's more than just a word—it's a testament to their journey, their commitment, and the life they've chosen to share. And Buck knows, without a doubt, that 'husband' is his favorite word yet.

[0-therw-0-rldly]

I feel like most of the negative discourse regarding BuckTommy and Tommy Kinard specifically would be eliminated if fans did the following:

If they are women, to stop inserting their personal identity into mlm relationships and stop making mlm relationships about them. I’m bisexual, but I’m also a woman. I cannot simply understand to a full extent anything about mlm relationships. If you are a queer man in the fandom who loves BuckTommy, feel free to reply so I can reblog your stuff!

Actually watching the show. I know things can be interpreted slightly differently, but this isn’t a philosophy course in college and this isn’t an A24 film where you have to figure out every metaphorical meaning behind something. Most things can be answered/explained by simply watching the show. A character smiling that much in a relationship means they’re happy, and it isn’t that deep. This is network TV.

Stop projecting in general. This show has had characters who are in their late 20s and beyond. Any materialistic thing that seems to matter that much to the younger viewers, simply would not matter that much to someone as old as Evan Buckley.

This brings me to my next point of understanding how old Evan Buckley is. He is nearing his mid 30s, he is not a teenager anymore and he also isn’t season 1 Buck. He has evolved and matured and just simply cares about different things, or has changed his mindset of how to care for things that he cared about before in a more suitable way for his age. The infantilizing is just gross in general.

Understanding that you can ship a pair on tv without requiring it to become canon. It can simply just be a thing you make edits, fanfic, or write your HCs about.

Understanding these are actors portraying FICTIONAL characters that are telling a different type of representation of mlm relationships. Just because it isn’t being told like Heartstopper or Red White and Royal blue, doesn’t make it any less valid. We are seeing a type of representation that feels rare, a masc/masc relationship and it’s so important, especially in a world where real firefighters or anyone in a macho career doesn’t feel safe to be themselves in.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ short bucktommy angst/whump with a happy ending, coz i love torturing my boys. 8x07 spoilers and verrrrrry loosely insp by a still from 8x08

typing

Why would he type type type and not send anything?

The alarms blare and Buck throws his baking back in the oven and sprints downstairs, but his mind is elsewhere. This? This is all muscle memory at this point. His mind occupies itself with other things, wondering what exactly Tommy might have wanted to say.

Evan. No. Buck. God, he still hates it that he called him Buck.

Can we talk? Tommy always was a man of few words. Or maybe Buck is just a man of many. But what does 'can we talk' even mean? He'd be spiralling just as hard as with the silent disappearing bubble. It's better this way.

MARRIAGE, EVAN??

God, he's an idiot. A pathetic, clingy idiot. Even now he would kill for a second round, just to dig that knife in deeper. At least then maybe, he'd be able to pick up what he'd missed before; where exactly that big dimpled grin and soft eyes had turned to hard words and hidden pain. At least then, he'd be able to fix it.

Hen watches him with a knowing eye.

“Stay strong, Buck,” she reminds him as they pull up to the scene. “Head in the game.”

Buck nods. He drops his phone on the seat and packs it away to the back of his mind, as best he can. Maybe he'll get to whip out the jaws of life. They always make him feel better. Shake it off, Buckley, let's go.

He's the last one out of the engine, and he hits the ground already triaging the scene. His senses expand, cataloguing the vehicles, the passers-by, the direction and nature of the accident. Eddie and Bobby are getting a run-down from a uniformed police officer on scene and it happens a splt second before Buck's mind catches up.

“A silver-” he overhears - “oh-”

He can see it in his minds eye, almost feel it even as his own heart sinks; the way recognition sets into Eddie's face. And then horror. He looks further down the road, to a sight that's partially obstructed from Buck's view. Partially, but not so much that he doesn't start running toward it because he has a feeling he knows, he knows, he knows who it is.

Why would he type type type and not send anything?

“Buck-” Hen warns, reaching to grab him but she's already missed.

Buck knows he should be helping but his world is caving in. Bobby's barking commands but all he hears is a wordless echo. Ravi hustles the balloons and the jaws up to the worst hit of the vehicles and Chimney is already there; medkit tossed over the worst of the shattered glass as he kneels by the dangerously crushed window and tries to make contact with the person inside.

“Buck.” It's Eddie this time, blocking with his body as much as he can – and he can, even with the full force of Buck throwing himself forward - but even he can't stop the terrible, terrible knowing.

“TOMMY!”

The name rips out of his lungs, because it's the truck: it's Tommy's pride and joy. It's singing along in the passenger seat and Tommy's smiling – sometimes he joins in, even though he wouldn't otherwise care for Buck's taste. It's Tommy slinging a greasy towel over his shoulder and hitching himinto the truck bed and making out until they both can't breathe. It's spilling the salt from hot chips in there; it's shoulder to shoulder at the drive-ins; it's getting fucked into the seats; it's polishing and vacuuming just last week because he can't help with the engine for shit. He'd put a little thing of jellybeans in the cup holder after - like his old detailer used to do, just to be cute - and it hits him that that's what those little coloured smudges are, intermingled with the crushed glass littered across the road.

What if he's in trouble and he needs my help?

“Oh, God, Tommy.”

The howling turns to hopeless. Breathless. The fight evaporates right out of him and he collapses forward into Eddie's arms. Eddie's embrace is firm and steadying as he lowers them both as gently as he can manage to the curb. Buck closes his eyes, sapped of the strength to watch any more but cursed by the knowledge of what's still got to be happening. Hen and Chim will be extracting Tommy's bruised and broken body onto a backboard right about now, and then lifting him onto a gurney. They'll be doing CPR if he's lucky – and they are, he can hear it, so at least there's that.

Then it stops.

For a few, horrible seconds all he can hear is his own hammering heart. Eddie's ragged breathing. Footsteps. Bobby.

“Buck.”

It takes a second, for him to gather the courage to open his eyes and look up. Bobby's demeanour is solemn and serious, but there's a softness Buck recognises well. A lightness that promises things might just be okay, as he offers a hand to pull Buck up from the roadside.

“He's asking for you in the ambulance,” Bobby says, and there's just a flicker, just an iota of a smile as he urges - “Go.”