#kinley

[harmonic-intervention]

God, but like, remember when Buck called Tommy a beast? I feel like we as a fandom have to get back on that.

[cull3nblaze]

[kj7895]

This was so good to see right now. And the fact that they are the first one heals me in a way. Andy, you ate that last line. Left me gagged and smiling 😊. BuckTommy’s story is not over yet and this just proves it.

[wikiangela]

when I close my eyes it's just you and I (here under the mistletoe)

written for @bucktommywinterfest prompt: December 15-21: holiday-themed calls/a q-word shift and/or mistletoe kiss huuuuuge thank to you @louisferrignojr without whom this fic would not have happened, ily, you're the best 🫶

rated: G words: 4.9k

[read on Ao3]

Buck has been taking the long way to work for about three months now just to stop by a coffee shop that’s totally out of his way and stare at the cute barista and embarrass himself by being way too awkward each and every time. He’ll deny it if anyone asks. Which, they won’t. Because he’s never late or anything, he just- he leaves for work a little bit earlier than usual, that’s all.  It’s just… really good coffee. Yeah, best he’s ever had. If he gets some eye-candy while he’s there, that’s just a bonus. Not the sole reason he’s there every morning before shift… and maybe nearly every morning on his days off. But the barista – Tommy – is just so cute. His eye-crinkling, nose-scrunching smile is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in his life – and with that adorable cleft in his chin, it’s a deadly combination, Buck can hardly look away. His blue eyes are so pretty and warm and Buck wants to look into them forever. And big arms that certainly would never make Buck think he’s a barista of all things. He must be so strong – Buck would lie if he said he didn’t want to see just how strong exactly, to see if he could throw him around a little… in a certain context, which he’s not thinking about, ever. And, god, those hands. Those long, thick fingers that Buck wants to- well. Every time he watches Tommy make his coffee, he gets a little mesmerized, transfixed on those hands, working with such ease and precision, moving so fluidly.  But that has nothing to do with why he goes there, of course. At least that’s what he’s trying to tell himself and, more importantly, Maddie, when they walk into the coffee shop one late morning and Tommy’s at the counter.

[read on Ao3]

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay, takes out pitch notecards, so the line about not being a psychic in the TVLine article. It gave me ideas.

Tommy Kinard is a psychic.

Not a Carrie or Firestarter psychic. Not a Jean Grey or Professor Xavier psychic.

No.

More of a That's So Raven psychic.

Sometimes, he can see the future. Not a lot of the future;l mere glimpses of the future. Usually, they were terrible - unhappy endings or bad moments that involved Tommy. Especially when he met new people.

Every time Tommy introduced himself to a new person, he would see a glimpse of the end of his relationship with that person.

A falling out.

A fading friendship.

A death.

All Tommy's life, he tried to ignore them. Tried to push down the notion that he could see any part of the future. That he would know where this will all go. But well, it was hard to push away that part of himself after Abby. He had finally accepted that he was gay. Why not believe in the fact that he could see the future? Definitely made his job easier.

Because.

Sometimes.

Just sometimes.

Tommy could stop a terrible thing from happening. He had never been able to do so with an altercation. He had never stopped a relationship from falling apart. But he had stopped disasters before, and well, people had proved him wrong in the past. When he had first met Howie, after all, Tommy had seen himself dying in that mall alone. Howie had been the first person to prove Tommy wrong.

That his visions, while he hadn't fully accepted them at that point, could change, if only in life or death situations.

So, it was odd.

It was supremely weird that when Tommy introduced himself to a certain Evan "Buck" Buckley, well, he saw nothing.

Nada.

Zip.

He literally saw no future. And that wasn't even to say that Tommy hadn't foreseen something that involved Evan. He had, after all, had a nightmare about a helicopter in a hurricane right before Howie had called him for help.

But Tommy had never met someone with literally no future with Tommy.

So, Tommy thinks, Okay. Maybe my presence in this man's life is so inconsequential that there's literally nothing for me to see. Which feels like a shame because Evan seems like such a nice guy. And they have a pretty good conversation on the way back from the cruise rescue. And maybe if Evan wasn't straight, well, Tommy would have loved to have asked Evan out for a beer at the very least.

But no future was no future. Tommy didn't try to think anything of it. After all, he seemed to have an okay vision for once in his life when it came to a friendship with the other new face he met, Eddie Diaz. And who's to say friendships aren't just as important as crushes?

So, Tommy focuses on that. Focuses on a new blossoming friendship with Eddie.

Until.

He gets a call.

From Evan Buckley.

And that was weird. Tommy hadn't expected that. How could he? He was seemingly so inconsequential to Evan that he had no future with the man. But there Evan was, rambling until he got to what had to be the point of the call - that Evan wanted to see Harbor Station again.

And.

Okay.

Tommy could show Evan around the station. It probably didn't matter in the end. After all, Tommy had no future with the guy. Why not spend a little time with him if he got the opportunity? It wouldn't hurt, right?

So, Tommy agrees to the tour. Despite knowing that this would make Tommy like Evan more even no future with him. Which felt a little bit like torture late, but Tommy never felt that way when Evan was around. He just liked hanging out with the guy. Getting to know him. Getting to see him.

Just.

Being with him.

Tommy feels bad when he realizes that he didn't quite schedule everything in a way where he could spend more time with Evan. That he has the fight in Las Vegas with Eddie.

And well.

It wasn't as if he and Evan had a future.

So, Tommy tries not to think about it. He focuses on the fight; on Muay Thai; on fixing cars; on karaoke trivia night. And he's having fun with Eddie, so that's nice at least.

Then.

Tommy sees Evan again.

At pickup basketball.

And it would feel like serendipity if not for the fact that Tommy knows there's nothing there. That there's no way for something to be there. But he's happy, nonetheless, and he's excited to play basketball with Evan.

Well.

Until Evan sprains Eddie's ankle. Which makes Tommy wonder if he was messing something up here. If he was jamming up some cogs of fate and doing something to impact this person's fate because Tommy hadn't exactly predicted that ankle injury.

Tommy decides to apologize. To hopefully course correct whatever was happening; maybe disengage from Eddie so that whatever Tommy was doing to hurt an already built friendship wouldn't come to pass any longer.

Except.

Evan's the one who apologizes. And talks about insecurities and jealousies. And well, Tommy finds himself talking about his own. He finds himself explaining how all he wanted to be was part of them. Part of the family Howie and Hen had at the 118 now.

And.

Well.

Tommy finds himself reading something; in the way Evan comforts him; in the way Evan talks about his feelings toward Tommy. And - fuck it. It wasn't as if there was a future there. Couldn't hurt to kiss the guy, especially if this might be the only opportunity to do so.

And.

It feel so right.

It feels so perfect that Tommy's scared that opening his eyes will lead to everything crashing; would lead to him realizing just how wrong the kiss was.

But it wasn't.

Evan seemed to like the kiss.

And Tommy finds himself asking Evan out despite himself because, well, Tommy could cling to whatever time he got with the man even without a future to perceive, right? Just meant any time with Evan was a bonus. Some strange loophole that Tommy had found himself jumping through.

And the first date goes poorly. And there's a huge fire that he has to go to when the wedding happens. And it feels as if fate itself is trying to push Tommy away from this man, this Evan Buckley. And somehow, the more fate tries to tear Tommy away from Evan, the more Tommy tries to fight it.

Because he loves Evan.

Despite everything, he does.

And okay.

Maybe Tommy has succumb to the will of fate at the moment.

Maybe he's folded.

It's so hard to fight fate, after all. How could he when fate finally sent him a sign - sent him a vision that he wouldn't be Evan's last.

But, well.

Despite knowing full well that there was no way to stop it. That it would be selfish to keep Evan to himself. To love him how he does. Tommy still feels himself wanting to text back.

Maybe.

Wanting to be with Evan despite what his visions have told him.

But that was selfish, right?

So, Tommy lets the text go.

But.

Still.

Maybe he should fight for this.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Buck had never been so nervous in his life. His leg was shaking, his palms were sweaty, and his stomach was doing somersaults. He looked at Tommy across the table, who had an unreadable look on his face.

Do it, Buck. Do it, a voice inside his head yelled.

He slipped his hand in his pocket and slowly pulled out the ring. "Tommy Kinard—" Buck began, his voice trembling with anticipation.

"I'm pregnant," Tommy blurted out.

"You're what?!" Buck's voice rose with shock.

"Oh my God, are you proposing?" Tommy's eyes widened as he spotted the ring box.

"Well, I was—" Buck stammered, still trying to process Tommy's news.

"But not now?" Tommy's voice cracked. "That's okay. I understand." A tear rolled down his cheek as his voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm damaged goods."

"No, no honey, that's not what I meant," Buck said urgently. "You're not damaged goods. I was just surprised."

"I'm so sorry," Tommy's voice wavered. "I wanted to tell you in a better way, a creative way, but it just spilled out, and I stole your thunder."

"Hey, no," Buck said softly, his face breaking into a radiant smile. "You are giving me the greatest gift. I am over the moon." He leaped up and pulled Tommy into his arms. "We're gonna be Dads."

Tommy held up his hand. "Can we be husbands too?"

Buck laughed, joy bubbling up inside him. "I would love nothing more," he said, sliding the gold band onto Tommy's finger.

"Happy anniversary, Evan," Tommy murmured.

"Happy anniversary, Tommy," Buck replied softly, pulling his husband-to-be into a gentle kiss.

[aesthetictarlos]

BuckTommy AU where they get set up for a blind date.

Tommy's newly out and Buck has just been ghosted by Abby (in this AU he's well aware he's not just an ally early on). Neither of them is really in the mood for a date, let alone a blind one, but Chim (because he's a pain in the ass but also a great matchmaker) insisted and they don't want to disappoint him so they decide to go. They meet for coffee (because if things go wrong they can quickly drink their coffee and say goodbye) in a cafe downtown and immediately get along, talking about literally everything until it's almost brunch time and they decide to have one.

They end up spending the whole day together, slowly growing closer and closer until finally giving in to the physical touch. They hold hands as they stroll around the park at sunset, and neither of them expected for this date to go that well but it did, and even if Tommy wanted to wait because he's never kissed anyone on a first date he can't, he can't not kiss Evan Buckley.

The sky is an abstract canvas as their lips meet for the first time, sparks erupting between them.

It's the best first date they both had, and the first of many until they realise that love really is all around.

[zealousduckbread]

I miss them something fierce 💔

[demonvampire180writes]

"Now you have me looking like a leper, and my own boyfriend won't even kiss me."

"Well, that's not true."

☹️...☹️...☹️...😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[rosyhoneydew]

Christmas Dreaming

Bucktommy ❅ Teen ❅ 2,804 words ❅ cw: N/A

The last thing he remembers is finishing training for the day, washing up, and knocking out in his bed. He’s- is he sleeping? “I think this is a dream,” he says, his voice full of stunned wonder. Tommy opens his mouth, likely to refute the theory, when he stops and looks around them again. He walks over to the trees, pressing his hand against them, like maybe if they’re made of dreams they’ll bend to his will. They don’t, they keep standing tall.

read on ao3

[bekolxeram]

I was reading a lot of fics about Tommy discovering Buck's new found stress baking habit post reunion, then this cringy idea popped into my mind. Now you get to suffer with me.

NSFW-ish

Lukewarm water, 360 grams. Honey, 10 grams. Dry yeast, 7 grams. Mix. Flour, 5… wait, no, wrong flour. Where’s my god damn bread flour? When was the last time I made bread? Oh yes, last month, right before Tommy and I got back together, it should be around… Ah, there, found it! No...

No!

Don’t get sentimental now, there’s no place for melancholy tonight.

“Sexy thoughts. Sexy thoughts.” Buck mutters to himself, desperately trying to stop his wandering mind from ruining his mood.

Think of Tommy. Hot, sexy, pilot.

The cyclic looks so small in his big yet surgically precise hand. It almost seems like he’s telepathically flying the chopper with his mind, not with his strong, steady arm. His fingers are long enough to engulf the control stick completely and more, sometimes he has to twist his wrist around just to flick the top… uh… the button on top.

He can feel the fabric of his sweatpants straining against his hip. The tight cotton shirt he picked out especially for the night feels extra tight around his rapidly warming skin. Good, it seems like his tactic is working.

And his pecs… that time when he wore nothing but his flight suit, umm... They’re so fun to play with, squeeze them, bite them, lick them, sleep on them, make them bounce. I don’t need to “explore” to be sure how much I love them. It’s not even about gender, I know a good pair when I see one.

Stop. No. He’s apologized. I’ve apologized. We’re all good.

It feels like all we do these days is to apologize, then have make up sex. Not saying it’s not good sex, but I want that light, fun sex we used to have, before we…

Don’t, don’t go there.

Anyway, oh, his beautiful face. The one stubborn strand of hair on his forehead that always refuses to comply with any hair product. The constellation of freckles scattered across his perfectly shaped nose. The sensual curve of his lips. The creases around his eyes and his cheeks when his whole face is lit up by that classic scrunchy smile. I swear they look even more prominent now… Oh! How could I forget, that delicious cleft on his chin. If there’s one saving grace coming out of the breakup, it’s his decision to double, no, triple his effort at the gym. His facial features look that much more striking on his now leaner body. Who gets over a heartbreak by becoming a Greek statue anyway? Pick up baking like a normal person, please.

Wait, I’m thinking about the breakup, aren’t I? Don’t. Don’t! Ugh… too late.

Buck lightly bangs his head against the counter in frustration. Deciding to focus on the task at hand instead, he promptly weighs out his flour, sprinkles in a pinch of salt, then pours the bubbly yeast mixture into the dry ingredients.

Just as he’s about to put his hands to work, he’s interrupted by a familiar rhythm at the door. Quickly wiping his hands on his apron, then pushing the waistband of his pants down by half an inch for Tommy’s viewing pleasure, he goes on to greet the man he’s been waiting for.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Tommy apologizes as he’s entering the loft. “I believe the infamous LA traffic still hasn’t recovered from the emergency freeway landing last year.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Buck shoots him a reassuring smile, clearly delighted by having his beloved in his space again. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right with you. I need to finish this dough first.”

“But I thought you said you wanted to relax tonight? Aren’t we just gonna order takeout?” Tommy’s visibly confused by Buck’s ongoing culinary endeavor.

“Oh, this? This is not for tonight. It has to proof until at least tomorrow morning,” Buck replies absentmindedly, his hands continue kneading the dough without pause.

“You don’t have to, Evan. I’m okay with no breakfast at all,” Tommy walks around the kitchen counter to give the hardworking baker a kiss on the temple. “As long as I’m with you.”

“Um… no, I’m making these because my parents are coming to town.”

“Tomorrow morning?!”

“In a month. They’re coming to see Maddie in a month. I’m just stress baking because they…” Buck lets out a sarcastic laugh, “they stress me out.”

“Ahhh… is that so? Well, I’m happy to have learned this about you. I never knew you could bake.”

“I couldn’t. I picked it up recently, after you…” Those dreaded words have already slipped out of his mouth before Buck realizes. He’s been trying his damnedest to steer the night away from this particular direction, but as it turns out, he’s utterly powerless against the freight train of emotions he’s been keeping deep inside. He briefly considers changing the subject, but Tommy’s heard him already. He perks up his eyebrows, signaling Buck to finish his sentence.

It’s better to rip off the band aid now, than to let it snowball into something unstoppable.

“...after you dumped me,” Buck comes clean reluctantly.

Tommy drops his eyes and sighs in understanding, before gently wrapping his arms around Buck from behind. “I’m sorry, baby,” he presses his lips onto the golden curls in front of him.

“Chimney told me, you have a tendency to run away if you’re being pushed too hard. I should wait for you to reach out instead of… the other way around.” Buck keeps working on his dough, intentionally averting his gaze from the man behind him.

“Mmhmm.”

“It was… agonizing. I saw you everywhere. I saw you at home, I saw you at the fire house. I saw you at the coffee shop. I saw you when a helicopter passed by in the sky. You were like… a ghost, haunting me, every waking moment of my life. You know what? Not even just waking, you were haunting my dreams, too. The only thing that managed to stop me from texting you was baking. I had all the supplies at home because I was planning to surprise you with a cake for your birthday but…”

Tommy abruptly lets go and backs off. While Buck fully expects the night to be ruined after his long winded ramble, he mourns the sudden loss of contact nonetheless.

Still not looking up from the increasingly elastic mass on the counter, Buck continues, “I just have to knead it for… um… 5 more minutes, then I’m all yours. Let’s start over, yeah? I’m over it, I’m okay now. Let’s forget about it and just… chill. There’s this movie I…” He’s cut off by Tommy’s return, arms secured around his waist once again, chest pressed firmly against his back, the only difference being that Buck can feel Tommy’s body heat radiating this time.

“Ghost, you said?” Tommy whispers, lips barely grazing the hair standing on Buck’s nape.

“Yeah…” Buck shivers. He turns his head slightly to take a peek at the man behind him.

Yes, Tommy’s shirtless.

“Mmm, keep going,” Tommy demands, hands sliding under the hem of Buck’s shirt to roam around his midsection, lips softly connected to the side of his neck.

So Buck keeps going. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate.

He feels two big hands caressing his shoulders, along his arms, then all the way down to his own busy hands.

“What are you making?”

“Ba — Bagels.”

“Umm… I love bagels,” Tommy lazily drags his mouth from Buck’s neck to his shoulder, leaving a trail of delicate kisses behind, “do you know how I like to take it?”

“How…?”

Tommy props his head back up, chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder. “Plain, with cream cheese,” he breathes straight into Buck’s ear. “So much cream cheese that it… oozes out everywhere. Leaking from the side, through the middle…” his tongue darts out to give that spot right underneath the earlobe an inquisitive lick. “I love it when it gets all over my face, painting my mouth white.”

Buck’s previously regular cadence starts faltering. He doesn’t know when to press or when to rotate the dough anymore.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Tommy grabs a hand full of the dough, and squeezes, hard. Yet, the dough barely budges. “Oh, am I doing it wrong?”

Buck can’t help but giggle. “You have to knead with your palms, not your fingers. Here, let me show you,” he covers Tommy’s right hand with his own, and pushes the heel of his palm into Tommy’s wrist. “You want to fold the dough onto itself, then roll your palm out while pressing down. A bagel dough is supposed to be pretty stiff, so feel free to put your whole body weight into it.”

“Like this?” Tommy mimics exactly what Buck just showed him.

“I’ll give you an A,” Buck turns his head around, meeting Tommy’s gaze. Their faces are so close together, they can feel each other breathing. “You’re a fast learner.”

“I have the best teacher,” Tommy murmurs.

They naturally gravitate towards each other, like two stars on a collision course, until their lips clash together into a sloppy, filthy open-mouthed kiss.

Pulling back slightly to gasp for air, Buck’s pupils are completely blown out, leaving merely a thin icy ring around his dark pool of arousal. “You can use both hands if you want…”

“Let me try that,” Tommy surrounds Buck in his arms, pinning him against the kitchen surface. Then, he starts working on the dough, using his entire body, making sure to time every pressing motion with a thrust from the hip, rocking the younger man into the edge of the counter.

“Mmm — Ah…” the friction generated by Tommy’s movement alone is enough to make Buck moan. He never thought baking could be this erotic. “That — That works…”

He allows himself to enjoy Tommy’s sweet show of strength for a few moments before firmly gripping Tommy’s wrists, stilling him. “It’s — It’s done. Now we put it back into the mixing bowl,” he hastily drops the dough into the metal container, causing a loud thud, “and leave it in the fridge overnight.”

Tommy gives him one more kiss on the cheek, and a pat on his lower back, “go,” then steps aside.

Buck nearly trips over his own feet walking towards the fridge. He hears water running in the background, probably over Tommy’s talented hands. Wrapping up the stainless steel bowl with more than enough plastic wrap, then shoving the whole thing into an empty corner of his fridge, Buck is all too eager to return to Tommy’s touch.

Slamming the fridge door close, Buck whips his head around in a millisecond to catch an eye full of Tommy in his shirtless glory for the first time in the night. He’s drying his hands with a kitchen towel, finger by finger, his biceps flex every time he rubs a digit clean.

Buck walks straight up to the object of his desire, waiting no time to close their distance. Hooking an elbow around Tommy’s neck, he pulls him into a deep, urgent kiss, while his free hand travels down from Tommy’s clavicle towards his nipple.

“Wait,” Tommy stops the exploring hand on its track, “wash your hands first.”

Buck groans in frustration. He unties the knot in his back, takes off his apron, then swiftly treks towards the kitchen sink to prepare himself for the ensuing nighttime activities.

Tommy follows him, settling snugly behind Buck while he’s cleaning his hands. Tommy slowly dips his mischievous fingers into Buck’s waistband, pleasantly surprised to find bare skin underneath.

“Oh, no underwear? Someone’s eager tonight,” Tommy says in a seductive tone.

Roughly drying his hands on his own shirt, Buck spins around to face Tommy, “I’ve been waiting for you to notice…” Feeling Tommy’s fingers tapping the hem of his top, Buck peels it off right away, letting those enormous hands roam free across his body.

“Bed?” Tommy asks in between kisses.

“Couch.” Buck pants.

Just when Buck’s calculating in his head the logistics of moving to the couch without breaking contact with his man, Tommy withdraws his hand from Buck’s bare skin.

“Hold on tight,” Tommy suddenly grabs onto the back of Buck’s thighs and lifts him clear off the ground, carrying him towards the underside of the loft.

[weewookinard]

I Needed Life And Life Came (chapter 5)

What if Abby and Tommy had a kid before they broke up? What if Evan got attached to this kid when he was with Abby, and suffered this loss as much as losing Abby when they parted away? What if Tommy gained custody when Abby left and had to raise the kid alone while learning how to be true to himself? What if, years later, Tommy and Evan met during a hurricane, and fell in love?

Or the one where Evan and Tamara finally meet each others. Sorry for what happens next 🥹

You can find this new chapter on AO3!

excerpt:

Tommy listens to Tamara sing the whole way, a delighted smile on his lips. The Frozen period is over, giving way to Encanto and its joyful melodies. “Luisa has big arms like you daddy, do you think she would do a good firefighter?” She had asked early on after watching the film, her curious frown back in place behind her rose-colored glasses. He took the time to think before answering. “I don't know sweetheart, she's strong and brave but she worries a lot. It's not very practical.”  Tamara had arched her eyebrows, looking as if she were weighing up the pros and cons, before returning to other occupations not without first concluding the debate herself. “She needs to work at the zoo then so she can carry the animals to their enclosures.”  His smile widened at the memory of his daughter's seriousness, this child far more clever than he'd hoped. To think he'd thought he'd never become a father when he returned from Iraq. He can't imagine his life without Tammy now.  But if she hates Evan, and she makes him choose, then he'll choose her, despite the pain and heartache. Yet something tells him that it's going to be all right. That his future will be happy. 

still taging you all, i hope you enjoy this one 💖

@itsthecityoftheflower @chococara25 @thestrangestthing @apollabarnes

@starsetdystopia @donevanrocker @dark-alice-lilith @cheesycottagecheese

@queermccoy @thatmexisaurusrex @pati79 @al-in-my-head

@livelaughbuck @cinderellarhea @roystartt @quintessenceofdust88

@shxiao @cull3nblaze @racerchix21 @nine-one-wanton

@bidisasterevankinard @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @hearteyesbuckley @sugdenlovesdingle

@leathercouchcushion @lavenderleahy @hippolotamus @autistictommykinard

@the-amber-raven @fanficmanic @hummelinski @sweaters-and-silly

@webbgirl34 @brassdragonage @perfectlysunny02 @adian-ua

@bangpop91 @typicalopposite @sunnywithachanceofbi @herrmannhalsteadproduction

@rdng1230 @weewoowings @queermccoy @theotherbuckley

[spicycinnabun]

@118dailydrabble for day 23 prompt fantasy ❤︎ rated: g ❤︎ pair: buck/tommy ❤︎ tags: part 4 of bakery au

"Whoa. Hey, Rudolph," Tommy said.

Buck sniffled, grabbing a tissue to wipe his nose. It was bright red, so Tommy wasn't off the mark. He tried for a smile. "Just let me wash my hands, and I'll take your order."

"I'm not here to order anything." Tommy deposited a bag in front of Buck. "Eddie told me you were sick. I brought some Italian penicillin."

"What?"

"Chicken soup. My nonna's recipe."

Tommy had brought Buck soup he had made himself? On Christmas Eve? Maybe all the cough medicine he'd consumed and the lack of sleep was making him unstable, but that almost made Buck tear up. Had he passed out, and this was just a weird fantasy dream?

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

A Kinley Christmas Carol (Chapter Two)

buck/tommy | rated: T | chapter two of five | work in progress | ao3

The long-forgotten scent of spiced hot chocolate pulled him out of a deep, dreamless sleep.

“Tommy,” a voice called. One he never thought he’d get to hear again. “Time to wake up, cucciolino.”

It was the nickname that yanked him the rest of the way into fully-conscious. Tommy’s eyes flew open as he sat up and blinked at the person sitting at the end of his bed.

“Nonna Sofia?” His breath caught as he stared at her, drinking in all of the details that time had worn away in his memories. “You’re—how are you—”

“I know that interesting gentleman in the nice hat told you I was coming,” she said, patting his leg with a smile. “Look at you. So grown up. So handsome.”

“Is this real?” Tommy scrambled to move closer because even if this was a dream or another hallucination, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to hug her one more time.

Choked back a little sob when he was actually able to do so.

“It’s real enough,” Nonna Sofia said, squeezing him tight. “Oh, my Tommy. You lost your way a bit, hm?”

“No, I—” Tommy sniffed as he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. “I know what I’m doing and it’s for the best, trust me.”

“So grown up, so handsome, and so stubborn.” She tweaked his chin. “I guess some things never change. Except—” She braced a hand on his shoulder as she stood up from the bed. “Tonight, everything must change and we have so little time to do it. Come, come, come.” Nonna Sofia motioned for him to follow as she shuffled forward…to the bathroom?

“Is this really something you need two people for or—”

She wrapped a hand around his wrist with an iron grip, cutting off his protests and yanking him forward as she stepped through the doorway—

And out onto a sunny, quiet street.

Tommy looked around at the run down, but tidy houses lining the block and knew, with a sinking heart, exactly where they were. “Why?” he whispered to Nonna Sofia.

She slipped her hand into his and started down the sidewalk. “You know why,” she said. “You have to see. Look!” She pointed at a house with a cheery wreath hanging on a faded yellow door, eyes crinkling up as she burst into a pleased grin. “It’s the day we met.”

[continue reading on ao3]

[weewoowings]

Day 19 of the BuckTommy Advent calendar! Tis the season folks!

Title: Pilot

Rating: M

Warnings: Severe injuries, Hospitals

Words: 2469

Pilot

The call came during a rare moment of peace in Station 118’s rec room. Buck was sprawled on the couch, half-watching some old action movie, when his phone buzzed on the table. It wasn’t unusual for him to get messages during downtime, but the name on the screen made his stomach drop.

Harbour/217 🚁

He sprang up and snatched the phone from the table, his heart already racing.

“Hello?”

“Evan Buckley?”

“Yes, this is him. Who’s this?”

“This is Captain Ramirez from the 217. I’m calling about firefighter Kinard... there’s been an accident. His helicopter went down. He’s being airlifted to the Presbyterian right now.”