#dads bucktommy

[diazsdimples]

Some Alfie Holidays headcanons for the soul

He is the most excited boy ever from the 31st of October all the way through to New Years Day because he loves Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and his birthday is on December 2nd!

The first year they do a matching Halloween costume Alfie is almost 11 months old, and Buck chooses for them to do a Wild West theme. Buck is a gunslinger, Tommy is a cowboy and Alfie is a teeny tiny little horse. He sits in the front pack on Tommy's chest the whole time and watches the world with big, excited eyes.

Alfie loves the Elf on the Shelf and Buck and Tommy's favourite thing is hearing Alfie's little giggles every morning when he sees what the Elf has done overnight. When he's 3, Eddie picks up the elf to have a look at him and gets told off by Alfie because Santa says you're not allowed to touch the elf!! And then Buck has to comfort him because he gets scared the elf won't tell Santa that he's been a good boy.

Alfie really only likes Thanksgiving because he gets to eat lots. He's a big fan of rolls and he likes pumpkin pie but he cannot stand green beans or stuff and he finds cranberry sauce confusing. He also does not subscribe to the idea of Food Comas and begs Buck and Tommy to play with him when they'd much rather be passed out on the couch.

Tommy starts a tradition where the month before Christmas, he and Alfie whittle a new decoration for the Christmas tree. Alfie gets to pick the design and then Tommy helps him sign his name at the bottom with a burning pen. His favourite one is the bunny shaped one he chooses when he's 2, that looks like Athena's bunny Hercules.

Alfie's biggest goal in life is to catch Santa when he's putting out Alfie's presents, so he likes to stay up as late as he can so he can tiptoe downstairs and try and catch him. One year Tommy almost tripped over him coming down the stairs in the morning because Alfie fell asleep on them while he was waiting for Santa. After that, Buck decided Alfie could come spend the night with them in their bed on Christmas Eve so he doesn't escape and cause more near death accidents.

When he was 1, Eddie scared Alfie with fake vampire teeth on Halloween so bad that the kid refused to watch Hotel Transylvania and freaks out when people have unnaturally long canines. Buck reminds Eddie this at least once a year, inevitably when Tommy is holding a shaking Alfie because someone was dressed up as Dracula.

[imakatperson22]

Eddie: Kicks the 3rd woman he’s dated out of his house because of repressed catholic guilt after avoiding having sex with her.

Buck: absolutely flailing as a baby disaster bisexual and sending his date running for the hills before they even finish their meal.

Chris, “out of town” somewhere, sitting on a curb and smoking a cigarette: Jesus Christ, these two fucking idiots…

[watchyourbuck]

If a hot 40 year old pilot seductively called me by my government name, promised to teach me stuff and told me how irreplaceable I am I’d make out with him in my kitchen too tf

[bigfootsmom]

Annie is Buck’s blue ribbon baby! He’s very proud! He worked very hard on growing her himself and she’s locally sourced!

My commission info

My kofi

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

Bobby and Athena inviting Buck and Tommy over for dinner though

And Buck being SO nervous about it, and Tommy's just like "Evan??? I've met both of them before, already? It's not gonna be that bad! It's not like we're having dinner with your parents!"

And Buck just kinda looks at him...and Tommy suddenly recalls all the times Buck has talked about Bobby, and all the times he's talked about Athena, and how much he cares about them, and how much he's always appreciated how much they care about him...

and Tommy's suddenly like "OH MY GOD WE'RE HAVING DINNER WITH YOUR PARENTS"

[cobbbvanth]

911 season 7 + hugs

[evansbuck-ley]

the first halloween that buck and tommy’s son is old enough to go trick or treating he is insistent in keeping his costume secret - well secret from one parent bc someone needs to pay. and unfortunately for buck he is the parent that is kept out of the loop. and even more unfortunate for buck is that this is the year that he had to work Halloween, so tommy promises to bring henry to the firehouse before he takes him trick or treating.

halloween rolls around and buck is basically vibrating out of his skin bc he just got a text from tommy to tell him their are on the way and he is beyond excited to see his boys. and suddenly there comes the world smallest firefighter sprinting towards buck with tommy not too far behind trying his best to keep up. buck takes in the sight in front of him. bc henry could have dress up as Dracula or Spider-Man but no hes dressed as buck. from the plastic helmet that sat wonky on his head and had “118” scribbled on the front . to buckley-kinard that was neatly printed on the back on his jacket. all the way down to his little yellow rain boots poking out the bottom of his turnouts.

and from behind buck he could hear hen and eddie cooing at the sight of the boy and he could see chimney come to stand next to tommy to take a million pictures that he knows is being sent to maddie - because yes buck we need pictures of everything he does, we need to fill his baby box!

then henry is jumping up and down in front of him so excited and he’s rambling. look daddy I’m you. do you like it? papa said that you would love it. i’m going to be a firefighter when I grow up daddy. can we go see grampy bobby after papa? I want to show him. and god, he is buck’s double and buck just can’t hold it together anymore. he lets a tear slip down his cheek and he scoops the boy in his arms and holds him tight to his chest. and in his head he is thanking whatever god out there that gave him this.

this family. this love. his whole world.

[cjlouwho]

Tommy’s dad comes to visit after Buck has moved in and Tommy is going a little insane with his cleaning. He’s re-vacuuming what Buck already did so the carpet has perfect lines, dusting perfectly clean shelves, hiding clutter underneath the beds, and putting the houseplants out back. Buck’s never seen him like this before, so out of sorts. He’s pulling at his hair, and triple checking the food, and ironing his clothes. Once he’s showered and his hair is perfectly set and his clothes are on, he keeps rubbing his hands over his shirt to make sure they don’t crease.

Buck asks if he’s okay but the exasperated, “yeah, mhm, fine,” all while looking like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown tells him everything he needs to know.

And then Walt arrives, and he might just have the best posture Buck has ever seen. He doesn’t smile as he shakes Tommy’s hand, gives Buck a grunt as he reluctantly shakes his hand next, and leads himself into the house. Tommy is consistently answering questions with “no, sir” and “yes, sir” and they seem more like commanding officer/subordinate than father/son.

Slowly, Buck begins to understand Tommy’s behavior because Walt makes little comments about everything. He cuts down the fact their place has wallpaper, doesn’t think the bookshelf Tommy made will hold up much longer, mentions he should use a straight razor for a better shave, says the food is a little bland, furniture too bright for his taste. These are all things randomly mixed in conversation, and Buck sees Tommy tense a little more with each one.

It gets to a point where Buck is about open his mouth and tell him to get the hell out, but Tommy grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze, stopping him before he starts. A silent shake of the head tells Buck it’s not worth it, he’s not worth it. Please don’t start a fight, just let this evening end.

When he finally does leave, Tommy sits on the couch and kind of stares off in the distance. Buck doesn’t say anything, just sits beside him and pulls him close. Tommy asks, “I’m never gonna be enough for him, am I? No matter what I do.” And there’s nothing Buck can really say, so he holds Tommy a little tighter, lets him fall apart in his arms, and helps to pick up the broken pieces afterward.

[autisticbucktommy]

buck and tommy in crop tops. tummys out. you agree, reblog

[buffaluff]

sorry for the lack of art recently, i get them yearly spooky scaries around now 😩

BUT here is a little doodle i sent with a package to @bigfootsmom 💖 molly has the cutest little story universe with beloved fan favorite perfect baby ANNIE so i just had to draw her 🫶

[imakatperson22]

Buddie fics this and tevan fics that.

Where are all the fics about what Chris is doing “out of town”? I need people to start writing about Chris being on his own little side quest or something. Where is he? What’s he doing? Why’d he go there? Make it happen people!

[bidisasterevankinard]

"Tommy calling Buck 'Evan' is cute and sweet and important for Buck's healing and makes Buck (and me) melt" and "It's not his name, Philip 🔪🔪🔪 he's name is Buck, not Evan" are sentences that can and should co-exist

[bigfootsmom]

please tell him he did a good job. just look at his face….tell him he gets a good grade in making a baby. it took him nine months he’s very proud.

my commission info

my kofi

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

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

(read on ao3)

**

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...What was that?"

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

—

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

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

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

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

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, but—"

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

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

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

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

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

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

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

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well. Alright.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

(Tommy is sitting in a an interrogation room) Tommy: Sargeant Grant, I'm really not sure why I'm here. You said you had some questions for me, but I'm not sure why...? Athena: Oh, I do have a couple questions, Tommy. But I'm not actually the one who'll be leading this interview. (Suddenly Bobby walks in and sits down at the table, across from Tommy) Bobby: So...I hear you're dating my son. Tommy: Your...son? Buck(over the intercom, connected to the observation room on the other side of the two-way mirror):...I am so sorry about this.

[mmso-notlikethat]

I kept thinking about lou with the small kitten, and i had to write this.. and oops, everything Tommy does here is actually things i have done 🫣

Note: they live together in Tommy’s house 🫡 ao3

Buck carefully carried the small carrier into the house. His heart raced as he glanced at the tiny cat inside, her fur a patchwork of gray and white, her bright green eyes wide with a mixture of fear and suspicion. She had been shaking when Buck found her earlier that day during a call. Tucked beneath a dumpster near the scene of a kitchen fire, she was alone, filthy, and trembling with fear. Buck couldn’t leave her there—not after she’d let him coax her out with a soft voice and some spilled takeout someone had left behind.

The guys at the station had teased him about it all afternoon. Chimney had even called her Buck’s “new soulmate.” But Buck didn’t care. All he could think about was Tommy—how much Tommy loved cats but didn’t have one of his own, how Tommy always made time for every stray they encountered.

Tommy was practically the neighborhood’s unofficial cat dad. Every morning on his runs, he’d stop by a little orange tabby’s favorite spot to leave some kibble. On their evening walks, he’d carry a pouch of treats just in case they ran into the scruffy black-and-white tomcat near the corner store. If Buck wasn’t with him, Tommy would send pictures with captions like, “Ran into Princess today. She judged me harshly but still accepted the snacks.” Or, “Look at this guy. Absolute king behavior. Think he’d let me pet him if I had tuna?”

Once, Buck caught him kneeling in someone’s yard, talking softly to a trio of kittens as if they were his own children. Another time, Tommy disappeared for twenty minutes during their grocery run only to reappear with a grin and a bag of wet food. “The alley cat behind the store needed dinner,” Tommy had explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t just the neighborhood cats that Tommy cared for—he also had a soft spot for a sleek black cat that hung around harbor.

The crew at the 217 had affectionately named her Midnight, though she never let anyone but Tommy get close.

Lucy had sent pictures of Tommy hanging out with Midnight to him, "thought this might interest you," and it did.

Every time before their shift started, Tommy would crouch by harbor's back entrance with a can of food he brought from home. Midnight would appear like clockwork, padding out from the shadows with her tail high and proud, but only after she saw it was him.

“Morning, beautiful,” Tommy would say softly, setting the food down and watching as Midnight dove in. While she ate, he’d sit cross legged nearby, occasionally murmuring to her about his day or the latest drama at work, and of course, about Evan.

One day, Lucy had caught him mid chat. “You know she’s not gonna answer, right?” She teased, leaning against the wall.

Tommy shrugged, unfazed. “Doesn’t mean she’s not listening. Right, Midnight?”

Midnight flicked her tail but didn’t stop eating. Lucy laughed, shaking her head. “You’re a cat whisperer, man. She hisses at everyone else.”

Tommy grinned. “She just has good taste.”

Later, when Tommy sent Buck a picture of Midnight lounging in the sun outside the station, the caption read, “Queen of the 217. She’s graciously accepted my tribute for today.”

Buck loved seeing that side of him—soft, patient, endlessly kind. He’d always wanted to give Tommy a cat of his own, but he wasn’t sure how Tommy would feel about the responsibility. That uncertainty was back now as he set the carrier down in their living room. Wiping his palms on his jeans, he crouched and opened the door. The cat didn’t move, her ears flattened.

"Hey, it's okay," Buck whispered. "You’re gonna love it here. I promise."

The sound of a key turning in the lock made Buck’s stomach flip. He stood as the door opened, and Tommy stepped inside, his duffle slung over one shoulder. His gaze landed on the carrier immediately.

“Evan,” Tommy said slowly, his brows furrowing. “What’s this?”

“It’s, uh, a cat,” Buck blurted. “I found her on a call today. She was under a dumpster, and she was so scared, Tommy. I couldn’t just leave her there. And I know you love cats, and you’re always taking care of the strays, so I thought maybe… you’d want her? I mean, we would both take care of her, of course, but I thought…”

Tommy dropped his bag on the couch and knelt by the carrier, peering inside. His expression softened instantly. “Oh, she’s gorgeous,” he breathed. “Hey, sweetheart.”

To Buck’s astonishment, the cat took one cautious step out, then another. She sniffed the air, her green eyes locking onto Tommy as if he were the only safe thing in the room. When Tommy held out his hand, she walked straight to him, rubbing her cheek against his fingers.

Buck crossed his arms, mock-offended. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, and she wouldn’t even look at me.”

Tommy looked up, his grin lighting up the room. “What can I say? Cats know who their people are.”

“Wow,” Buck said, rolling his eyes but smiling. “This is the thanks I get.”

Tommy laughed, pulling Buck down beside him and kissing him softly. “Thank you,” he murmured, “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Then, as if a switch flipped, Tommy sat up straighter, his eyes lighting up. "Okay, so we need to get her a proper bed—maybe one of those ones that doubles as a hideaway? And toys, but nothing too loud, and some good quality food. Do you know if she likes wet food or kibble? No? it's fine, we'll figure it out. Do you think she would prefer one of those little climbing towers or something simpler? Also, we'll need to take her to the vet soon, just to make sure she's healthy and up to date on everything. Oh, and I have to clear some space in the corner by the window for her to sit in the sun. She's going to love that. I'll-"

"Tommy," Buck interrupted, grinning despite himself.

Tommy blinked, his cheeks flushing. "What?"

"You're rambling"

"Well, of course I'm rambling, Evan. Look at her! She's perfect, and she's scared, and she needs us."

Buck wrapped his arms around Tommy, relief washing over him. “I had no idea how you’d react,” he admitted. “I was scared you’d think it was too much or something.”

Tommy shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s perfect, Evan. You’re perfect.” He looked down at the cat, now curled up against his leg, her eyes finally closing in peace. “And she’s home now.”

Buck chuckled, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s temple. "Guess I’m gonna have to share you now, huh?"

Tommy smirked. “You’ve always had to share me—with every cat in the neighborhood.”

“Yeah, but now I’ve got competition in my own house,” Buck teased, earning a playful shove from Tommy.

As they sat there, the cat softly purring between them, Buck realized he didn’t mind sharing at all. Not when it made Tommy this happy.