#muay thai boxing gloves

[muaythaicombat]

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[yokkaoboxingposts]

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[sharkbyte-blog]

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[ambersports]

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[techenicalgourav]

Muay Thai Twins Gloves

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[a-deep-ocean-of-secrets]

Home Is Where I Want to Be (But I Guess I'm Already There)

Summary:

The thing is, Buck didn't mean to move in with Tommy.

Read below or on AO3 (3.8k words)

The thing is, Buck didn't mean to move in with Tommy.

Those first few giddy weeks and months (like bubbly champagne buzzing through his veins every time he saw Tommy’s smile, kissed Tommy’s full lips, found himself tangled in Tommy’s bed sheets) of staying over in his boyfriend's cozy, Venice bungalow have him living almost exclusively out of his trusty duffle bag. Which isn't a big deal. He's used to lugging that ratty thing back and forth from the firehouse to his apartment. 

Can it be annoying sometimes? Sure. His clothes are constantly wrinkled (which majorly sucks when he's trying to dress to impress on date nights) and he's always forgetting or running out of one toiletry or another. If it’s not his deodorant then it’s his mouthwash. If it’s not his aftershave then it’s his moisturizer. Minor inconveniences, really, but worth it every time to wake up in Tommy's king-sized bed with Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him and Tommy's hot breath on the back of his neck.  

It doesn't take long for that to change. Like a seed beginning to take root, Tommy, as he’s done since the very beginning, makes room for Buck in his life. Just as he opened his helicopter to Buck and his friends and flew them headfirst into a raging hurricane on nothing more than an outlandish hunch. The same way he took time out of his busy schedule to grant Buck a private tour of Harbor Station and answered all his jumbled questions as Buck nipped at his heels like an overeager golden retriever, tail wagging a mile a minute, wanting nothing more than to be closerclosercloser to the cool guy with a megawatt grin, who called him ‘Evan’ and had his heart skipping a beat even if he couldn’t identify the why of it all at the time.  

So it’s not a surprise at all when he carves out precious space in his closet and lets Buck's colorful and patterned button-ups and polos blend in with Tommy's neutral henleys and shackets. They’re two big guys with a penchant for working out, so their wide array of tank tops, sweatpants, and basketball shorts become indistinguishable from each other. Their LAFD-issued shirts are so interwoven that they've given up trying to tell them apart and frequently go to work wearing the other's name branded on their backs, much to their coworkers’ loud and endless amusement. 

Buck’s grapefruit shampoo and citrus body wash relocate to the shower niche alongside Tommy's own sandalwood and frankincense-scented products. On the vanity, Buck's red toothbrush is a companion to Tommy's green one. 

All these minute modifications to Tommy’s home are simple and understandable ripple effects of Buck regularly spending a few nights a week there. 

The offshoots of that single seed deepen into winding vines without Buck even noticing. 

First, it's Buck's lucky set of boxing gloves hanging innocently alongside Tommy's Muay Thai gear in the garage. After a frustrating and tedious shift, he enjoys nothing more than a few vigorous rounds with Tommy’s punching bag. Then, Buck's large and varied assortment of books (ranging from biographies on famous figures such as Marie Curie to The Book of 10,000 Incredible Facts to the new YA fantasy series that is all the rage among Christopher and his friends) slowly but steadily find a home among Tommy's WWI & II aviation history collection on the shelves of the reclaimed redwood bookcase Tommy crafted by hand. 

His favorite cast iron skillet and Instant Pot take up permanent residence in Tommy's kitchen, alongside his garlic press and waffle maker. His 'Buck Off' coffee mug (a gag gift from the 118) is always ready to go for lavender and daffodil-colored mornings spent on Tommy's front porch overlooking the canal as kayaks and paddle boards drift by in the early morning light. The sinfully soft, ocean blue afghan Carla knitted for him during the pandemic is draped over the back of Tommy's unfairly comfortable sectional. Christopher’s US History textbook is lying open on the coffee table, left behind after a pizza and study session. The newest season of The Bachelor (the combined forces of Maddie, Chimney, and Josh got him hooked. What can he say? He loves love.) is TiVoed on Tommy's flatscreen TV. His Jeep has its own designated spot next to Tommy's ’71 Bronco. 

The roots of their budding relationship grow deeper and extend farther than the eye can see. 

Buck's most cherished brand of coffee is readily available in the kitchen cabinets. His all-time favorite blend just so happens to be named The Beast. A fun fact that never fails to stop him from leering at Tommy and waggling his eyebrows every time he brews a cup. His favorite cereal is stocked in the cupboards and his favorite yogurt is in the fridge. The same fridge that is currently plastered with Jee-Yun's vibrant crayon drawings alongside pictures of Tommy’s nieces and nephews in Chicago. A true collage of sparkly princesses and menacing dragons beside Polaroids of beaming faces on the sandy shore of Lake Michigan and sitting in the stands of Wrigley Field with messy hotdogs and giant foam fingers. 

Even food Tommy turns his perfect, aquiline nose up to but Buck loves (like quinoa and chirimoya) are now staples in his pantry. His most treasured cookbook, battered with stained, dog-eared pages with the margins filled in with his own corrections in his scratchy scrawl, holds a place of honor on Tommy's countertop on a wooden stand Tommy scrounged up at the local flea market. 

He has to rack his brain to remember the last time he spent a night at the loft. The last time he had been there, to pick up some clothes from his rapidly depleting wardrobe, it had looked even emptier and barer than usual with hardly any food in the fridge, the bed sheets stale and unloved, and a thin layer of dust on his kitchen island. The industrial, modern space had felt cold and clinical and nothing like a living, breathing home. 

It lacked the wooden floors Tommy had spent weeks refinishing as he lovingly sought out the perfect stain. It lacked the extra-long, extra-wide hammock hanging off Tommy’s back patio where Buck delighted in taking the occasional catnap on sunny afternoons. The loft hadn't inspired even a fraction of the warmth that Tommy's home did every time he walked through the door with the key Tommy had given him three months in, dangling from a helicopter keychain that made him grin like a dope whenever he pulled it free from his pocket. 

Buck doesn't realize any of these very important and essential truths until one morning when he nearly trips over his running shoe that was lying discarded by the front door. At the sound of his clumsy stumble, Baron, Tommy's five-year-old Shepkita ("That's not a word, Evan. He's an Akita Shepherd.”), raises his head from where he's lounging on his overstuffed dog bed, exhausted from their early morning run at the beach. 

At the sight of Buck being Buck, Baron lets out a jaw-cracking yawn and puts his head back down to resume his beauty sleep. Kicking the offending sneaker out of the way, Buck stops dead center in the living room, hands on his hips and wearing Tommy’s faded USC sweater that’s been worn soft from years of washings and smells tantalizingly of Tommy’s laundry detergent, and can't help but survey the terrain and take stock of how much of himself is residing in Tommy's space. He's visible in every nook and cranny. 

He has completely, and totally, infiltrated Tommy's home. 

The thought instantly fills him with indescribable joy that blossoms like radiant sunflowers inside his chest. For all of ten seconds. He then remembers the last time he unknowingly moved in with someone and the heartbreaking consequences of it.

Abby.  

She had been so terribly sad and broken in the wake of her mother's death. It had been as easy as breathing for Buck to step up, to prove himself, to try and do everything in his power to fix her with his love and devotion. So he stayed with her day and night, and his things had steadily trickled into her apartment. It had been easier back then to do, he had had so little to his name other than the Jeep and his clothes. And he can't lie, it was a relief to get out of that glorified frat house filled with Connor and the others. 

It had seemed natural to move in with Abby (even if she had been unaware of it). He thought they were building something special together, something made to last. He hadn't known at the time that while he saw a new beginning, she saw entrapment. For her, she would be trading one role of caretaker for another. Going from a sick mother to a young punk (at 26, he had still been a kid) who was stumbling like a newborn giraffe through his first serious relationship. Had she stayed, there would have been so much handholding on her part as he continued to figure out all the volatile nuances of life and commitment. And that hadn't been fair of him to ask that of her when she was so vulnerable, he understands that now with valuable time and distance. She had been so lost that the only thing she could do to find herself again was travel halfway across the world and leave him behind in the process. 

He had lived (however briefly) with Abby. He was living with Tommy, even if he hadn't clocked it until just now. 

And he wants it, he realizes with a jolt not unlike the bolt of lightning that had struck him. He wants to live with Tommy. He wants to wake up with him every morning and come home to him every night (demanding schedules permitting, of course). He wants their high-energy workout sessions that always turn into a different kind of workout and their sunset strolls through the canals with an enthusiastic Baron (complete with goofy selfies in front of David Hasselhoff’s house from Baywatch). He wants their weekends at the Venice Farmers' Market. He wants their monthly meetings of the LGBTIQA+ book club that Hen and Karen started and that Tommy and Buck have hosted twice now inside this very house. 

He wants Tommy. Plain and simple. He always wants Tommy. Tommy, who has the world’s worst fake mouth static, but jokingly brags all the same about winning a medal for it. Tommy, who acts big and tough on the job and up in the air, but he never fails to shed a tear whenever they watch the climax of a romantic comedy. Tommy, who always has a heating pad and massage waiting on standby for rainy days when the pain in Buck’s bum leg flares up like relentless flames. 

Tommy, who has no idea that they're living together. 

An icy sliver of fear sluices down his back at the terrifying thought that once Tommy learns they're essentially playing house with each other he might turn tail and run away, just like Abby did. Or, perhaps, even worse, he won't run, but he won't want Buck here anymore either. He can already see it in crystal clear HD: Tommy's handsome face shuttering to stone as it does when he's uncomfortable but doesn’t want to show it. His blue eyes darting away and his lips thinning into a brittle line as he tells Buck that this is all moving far too fast, that maybe they should take a step back and put some space between them, and then Buck will be banished back to his sad, pathetic loft that doesn't have Tommy waiting for him in it. 

He cuts the catastrophizing off at the knees before it can spiral into something far more treacherous. Tommy, for all his flaws — he drinks orange juice straight from the carton like a Neanderthal and he doggedly believes that his directions are better than the GPS ("I spend most of my time in the air, Evan. I know all the shortcuts throughout Los Angeles County.") — isn't the kind of man who runs away from a fight when the going gets tough. He's the kind of man who digs his heels in and comes out swinging the next round. And he's been nothing but kind to Buck the entire time they've known each other. He enforces tough love when he deems fit, but it always comes from a place of kindness and gentleness. 

They love each other. And they live together. It's time Tommy knows it. 

So, screwing his courage to the sticking place (Jee-Yun loves Beauty and the Beast), Buck shuffles his way into the kitchen where his boyfriend is manning the stove and making their breakfast. In the oven, a frittata bakes away in Buck’s cast iron skillet and on the stovetop, turkey bacon sizzles as it fries. Tommy, hair curly and wet from his earlier shower, flips crispy pieces while humming along to The National playing softly in the background on the radio. 

God, Buck adores this man with everything in him. 

Tommy catches him out of the corner of his eye hovering there like a massive dweeb and flashes a dazzling smile his way. 

“Hey, babe. What was that noise I heard?” 

He can feel an embarrassed blush rapidly bloom across his cheeks until his face is as pink and splotchy as his birthmark. “Oh. That was just me. I, uh, tripped over my running shoe,” he lamely explains. 

“They can be quite the menace,” Tommy says with his usual brand of wry humor. He chuckles quietly to himself as he turns his attention back to the mouthwatering bacon. For a tempting moment, Buck just wants to forget the stunning revelation he’s had and instead stay in this blissful, domestic bubble that seems to exist whenever the two of them are alone together. It doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing, there’s just an undeniable ease to the two of them existing in the same space, breathing the same air, hearts beating in tandem. 

But, alas, he’s a man on a mission. 

Reaching up and rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, Buck thinks through his options. He’s come to learn, through many a messy trial and error, that honestly truly is the best policy. The last time he had so thoroughly ignored the elephant in the room was when he had asked Taylor to move in with him for all the wrong reasons. 

That had been a train wreck of epic proportions, even for him. He had well and truly bucked that situation up beyond repair. 

But that was then and this was now. And the only things Tommy and Taylor had in common were their initials and their partiality to cruising around LA in helicopters. His feelings for them were night and day as well. He had loved Taylor, but by the exhausting end of their relationship, he hadn’t genuinely liked her anymore as a person. They were too different, their morals too misaligned to exist harmoniously together. It isn’t like that with Tommy. He both loves and likes practically everything about his fellow firefighter, even the traits and bad habits that annoy the ever-living shit out of him. 

“So, hey, I, uh, kinda just realized something…pretty important.” 

Smooth start. And to think, before he met Tommy he had honestly had game. But something about the self-assured pilot, from the moment they met on the tarmac at Harbor and he introduced himself as Evan instead of his standard Buck, had him tripping over his tongue in both the best and worst ways. His foot-in-mouth syndrome had ruined their first date and nearly all chances he had had with Tommy, but it was that same unfiltered nature of his that had Tommy granting him another shot and scoring him as his plus one to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding that never was. 

Which reminds him: he owes Tommy a dance. He files that tidbit into his mental to-do list for another day. 

Tommy looks at him with a quizzical raise of his brow as he lazily twirls the spatula in his hand. “What? Found some more facts about that jellyfish? What’s it called? The spotted—“

“Chriodectes maculatus,” Buck corrects automatically. “Or more commonly known as the spotted box jellyfish. Only the rarest jellyfish in the world, I might add.” 

The corner of Tommy’s lush lips curl up into a fond half-smile. “Yeah, that’s the one. I thought you exhausted all knowledge on it last night when we watched that documentary.” 

“In the words of Chinese philosopher Zhuang Zhou, ‘Life is finite, while knowledge is infinite.’ So, no, I’ll never know enough about jellyfish, rare or otherwise, to exhaust myself, Thomas.” 

Tommy mouths ‘Thomas’ to himself and looks to be gearing up a quippy retort of his own when Buck realizes with tightening dread that he’s on the road to derailing this potentially monumental conversation with talk of jellyfish, of all things. Honestly, he can’t even believe himself half the time. 

Time to pivot. 

“Forget about the jellyfish. They’re not important right now.” 

Swiveling his broad-shouldered body, Tommy gives him his full attention as his eagle-eyed gaze slowly sweeps over the entirety of Buck’s 6’2” frame. Buck, for his part, staunchly fights the urge to fidget as he knows it would give him away in an instant. There’s something almost surgical in the way that Tommy, without ever saying a word, can expertly peel back all the layers of bone and marrow of Buck’s psyche down to his bleeding center where his festering insecurities and crippling self-doubt reside. 

If it were anyone else it’d feel violently invasive. But Tommy has only ever treated these undesirable parts of him with the tenderest of care, delicately stitching up invisible wounds Buck hadn’t even known existed until the moment Tommy kissed him in his kitchen and completely shook the bedrock of all his pre-conceived notions about himself. 

“Sounds serious,” he says after a moment of contemplative silence. The only sound in the kitchen is the hiss of the bacon roasting away on the stove. Through the window over the sink, a beam of sunlight shines in and bathes Tommy in its golden rays. 

Buck heavily exhales a breath out between his teeth. “It is. Or, it could be. Maybe. It really depends on how you look at it, I guess.” 

“Look at what?” Tommy asks, even-keeled as ever. It’d be infuriating if it wasn’t such a damn turn-on. 

It’s now or never. 

“Look at the fact that… We kinda, almost…sorta, seem to be living with each other?” 

Tommy freezes to the spot, his eyes going wide as he blinks, coming off as a perturbed owl for a moment before he schools his features back into his usual calm facade. He looks back down at the bacon and quickly flips some pieces before they can turn into a charred mess of meat. 

Composure regained, he asks, “Was that a question or a statement?” 

He’s always lightning-quick to toss the proverbial ball back into Buck’s court. Always willing to let him take the lead in their relationship and set the parameters and boundaries. Without fail, where Buck goes Tommy follows. It had been a sweet relief in the early days of their relationship when Buck was stumbling around blind, but nine months in and Buck needs Tommy on equal footing with him. It’s the only way forward. 

“It’s, uh, a statement.” Damn. That didn’t sound convincing at all. Closing his eyes and centering himself the way Dr. Copeland taught him, he slowly takes a deep breath, and then another, and then one more for good measure, opens his eyes, and looks Tommy square in the eye. “It’s a statement. We’re, for all intents and purposes, living together. And I want, no, I need to know what you think about…that.” 

Tommy’s gaze slides away and catches sight of Buck’s mug already topped off with his second cup of coffee for the day as swirling mist rises off of it. He sees Buck’s LAFD hoodie hanging off the back of one of the stools situated at the island. He spots Jee-Yun’s drawings on the fridge, giving the stainless steel appliance so much color and joy. He spies the Fokker Dr. I triplane chew toy Buck specialty ordered for Baron lying on the floor near the dining table. 

Tommy’s home hasn’t just been Tommy’s home in quite some time. 

He spots every single change that Buck has brought into his house with his very presence, and he gathers them to him like they’re the most precious of jewels. He turns to Buck and smiles at him. 

It nearly stops Buck’s heart for a moment. 

He loves all of Tommy’s smiles. He loves his smirk when he’s said something particularly snarky or deadpan. He loves the closed-mouth grin he does when Buck is batting his eyes and pouting and Tommy is steadfastly pretending he isn’t endeared by the silliness. He loves the smug curve of his lips when Tommy moves just right inside of him, hitting that elusive, perfect spot that has him seeing stars and clutching Tommy tighter to him until he can’t tell one limb from another. 

But this, this is his favorite Tommy smile by a far-flung mile. 

It is simply radiant. His smile is wide and open, with his straight, white teeth brilliantly on display. It stretches broadly across his rugged face, exposing his deep-set dimples on either side of his ample mouth. His nose adorably scrunches and his eyes are squinty with unbridled happiness. At the corners of his eyes, his crow’s feet spread like tiny estuaries spooling into the grooves of his tan skin. 

He looks boyish and carefree. And so very in love. 

All because of Buck. He was the cause of such boundless euphoria. No one has ever loved him the way Tommy unashamedly does. 

“What I think is,” Tommy says clearly and concisely, “I think we should make it official. What do you say, Evan? Will you move in with me?” 

Buck feels like he was socked in the gut, but only in the very best of ways. His breath is stolen from his body and he doesn’t even know if his feet are still on the ground or if he’s simply floated away with how incandescently lighthearted he feels at this very moment. 

“Y-You really mean that? You want to live together?” 

It never hurts to double-check. He does that every time with his faithful clipboard. It is truly the only way to be efficient. 

Tommy’s smile only widens further. “Evan. You’re my favorite person in the world. Of course, I want to live with you.” 

The sunflowers inside Buck’s chest come to full bloom. 

He and Tommy live together.

[iinryer]

i am genuinely curious about muay thai if you want to talk about it? if not disregard this message and i’ll go to google about it lol

[STARTING THIS WITH THE CAVEAT THAT I AM A BOXER AND NOT A MUAY THAI FIGHTER]

i love boxing. i love boxing and i love combat sports. there are SOOO many things to talk about, i will not be able to get into all of it but i can give yall some combat sport basics!

SO. I will try to be succinct, but sorry in advance:

—not even touching on weapon arts types, there are three primary fighting styles of combat sports: STRIKING, GRAPPLING, and HYBRID

things like boxing (my wheelhouse) are striking combat! you can get a little locked up sometimes but you can’t actually intentionally grapple your opponent, and the ref will split you up to reset if it gets too tangled up.

things like wrestling and bjj (brazilian jiu jitsu) are grappling combat! you’re trying to pin your opponent or put them into submission via cinching and grappling, sometimes throws and knock downs, but there’s no striking allowed

things like aikido and combat jiu jitsu are hybrids! they use a combination of striking AND grappling techniques to varying degrees. MMA is the main hybrid combat sport, but i don’t think of it as a “style” on its own, by virtue of it being a combination of tons of other ones haha

—the next element is: what parts of your body you’re allowed to use and what parts of your opponent’s body you’re allowed to target. grappling sports are going to be a lot more full-body compatible, while striking styles can vary! punches only vs punches and kicks etc.

so, for example: boxing is limited to punches only and localized to above the waist, head on. whereas bjj is essentially full body to full body

—the last part is whether or not the combat allows groundwork. is this going to be fully upright (boxing) or can the fight continue if someone ends up on the ground (bjj).

—OK SO: MUAY THAI

it is a HYBRID combat sport, so it utilizes both striking and grappling. (it would probably be considered primarily a striking combat sport BUT it is technically a hybrid. most of the grappling comes in from catching your opponents strikes and utilizing that hold against them, as opposed to like, wrestling lol. you’re wearing boxing gloves so you can’t like, grasp anything with your hands, it’s more like arm locks and holds)

it is UPRIGHT, so both fighters will be standing the entire fight, and there is no groundwork or floor-based grappling

it uses MIXED STRIKING, punches as well as strikes with the feet, shins, and knees. lots of blocking is done with the knees and shins actually, which i find very cool

it can look a lot like boxing until the kicks come in to play! hand wraps and gloves look the same, but fighters will go into the ring shoeless and with ankle supports. professional muay thai fights prohibit shoes and shirts. sparring would include shin pads and sometimes head gear, depending on the setting

you CAN strike your opponent pretty much anywhere but the groin, knock your opponent down by getting them off balance (leg sweeps and throws), kick or push them away from you

you CANNOT pick your opponent up to grapple or throw them, grab their clothes or hair, headbutt them, or tackle them

if you’re curious about how it looks, I recommend searching “muay thai sparring” on youtube, it’s more casual than actual fights and you can usually see the fighters moves a little more clearly since they’re not going 100% (and, for fic purposes, that’s more likely what you’re going to be angling towards)

ANYWAYS. that was a lot, i may have forgotten some things but i hope that made sense and was at all helpful and/or interesting lol.

[gabby297]

You Look So Pretty, Pretty Like The Sun - Chapter 2

Buck wiped away the sweat from his forehead on a small towel between his sets. Despite the AC blasting at full power, the gym still felt stiflingly hot. The weights beside him were slightly heavier than what he typically lifted. With the wedding right around the corner, Buck had been making the most of any free time by hitting the gym . And if he harbored a secret desire to look extra good for his date, who could blame him?

Buck knew they were pretty similar in height but he was nearly certain Tommy was actually stronger than him. He attributed it on the Muay Thai. Speaking of Muay Thai, he really should stop imagining Tommy in the ring, his skin glistering, only in a pair of shorts and boxing gloves. His Google search history became much more interesting since they started to hang out.

Buck lifted his phone off the floor again, checking if he missed any messages while he was lifting. Throwing the towel over his shoulder he leaned back against the seat. The pretense that he wasn’t checking the phone every moment he could was long forgotten. Both he and Tommy had a day off and had been texting since Buck crawled out of bed for a cup of coffee.

Things between him and Tommy were good. Almost too good. His past relationships were never this peaceful or easy. Since their reconciliation couple of days ago, they fell into a rhythm. In his previous relationships, Buck always felt like his partners took offence if he didn’t talk to them constantly at work or if he would lose time hanging out with the team after work. With Tommy it was different. Sharing a similar job, he knew how hectic the days were. More importantly, he understood the team dynamic. They texted when they could without expectation of an immediate reply. Their conversations never had a beginning or an end, and often with different amount of hours in between, especially when Tommy was piloting. However when they were off, Buck was glued to his phone.

Buck grinned as he looked at the chat. He was getting bolder, adding more winky emojis to his texts and teasing Tommy more often. Despite still blushing like a teenage girl in front of the man, he considered this progress. And judging by Tommy's reactions, it seemed like he was enjoying it too. The last message Buck sent was a selfie of himself in front of the mirror, making sure to pose in a way that showed off his muscles. He really needed to thank Eddie for telling him about lighting all the way back when he first joined the 118. Tommy had responded with a series of fire emojis, and asked which gym he used. Buck placed his phone back down, eager for the man to reply.

He was in the middle of bench pressing as someone approached him from the side.

“Need a spotter?” A familiar voice called out, causing Buck to do a double take, his arms faltering for a second. He quickly recovered and clinked the barbell back into place. Tommy stood beside him, wearing a pair of blue shorts and a black, very fitting vest top. Shamelessly, Buck ogled at the man, his eyes glancing up and down a few times.

“Tommy!” He grinned widened. “What are you doing here? I thought you had errands to run.”

“Well, a cute guy changed my mind.” ommy replied, winking playfully and eyeing the equipment. “Mind if we share?”

“Be my guest," Buck said, stepping away from the bench and giving it a quick wipe. He couldn't help but emit a half-groan as he watched Tommy bend down to grab another set of plates, offering him an excellent view. The sly smirk on Tommy’s face suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Ready to actually do some work?” Tommy teased, adding the weights to the barbell. Buck chuckled shaking his head.

“You’re on, old man.”

An hour and a cold shower later, Buck sighed happily as his muscles tingled, the cool water washing away the fatigue of their intense workout. He was pleased to learn that Tommy was just as competitive as him, the workout turning into a fun competition. They ended their workout on a treadmill where Tommy had utterly beat his ass in endurance.

As he dried his hair with a towel, Buck caught sight of Tommy openly staring at him in the mirror. His heart quickened at the intensity of Tommy's gaze, a flush creeping up his cheeks as he met the other man's eyes.

“What?” Buck asked, shifting under his gaze. The semi-public space added to the nerves and excitement.

“Nothing, just you're quite the sight.” Tommy replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Buck’s brain short-circuited for a moment.

“Lets grab some lunch.” Tommy added casually, as if he didn’t just openly flirt in a men’s locker room. He thew the duffel bag over his soldier, and Buck quickly grabbed his stuff, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he fell into step beside Tommy, feeling like a lovesick puppy in the best possible way.

———

After coming out to his sister and best friend, it became easier to talk about this newly discovered part of himself. There were only a select number of people he did want to tell, and he was determined to do it before the wedding. In part, he didn't want to make Maddie and Chimney's big day about him, a distant echo of his parents' voices ringing in his mind. Mostly, he just wanted to have a nice night with Tommy among their closest friends, unspoiled by awkward corrections that Tommy isn't just his friend but his date. He knew that Tommy wouldn't correct it if someone did make that assumption, wouldn't out him; he was too considerate for that.

Buck told Chimney when he announced he needed a plus one to the wedding. He rolled his eyes, remembering the smug grin on Chimney's face, all too pleased that he was a matchmaker. After teasing him for a while, Chimney clasped Buck’s shoulder and declared that there was no way Tommy would be going to his bachelor’s party. He added something about 'under my dead body' would there be lovebirds pining in his face on his last night as a single man.

On one of the quieter shifts, Buck was helping Hen load up an ambulance. It was pretty quiet in the station when the words came to him. He didn’t explain in much detail, just a simple ‘I kissed a boy’ was enough. She gave him a knowing smile and pulled him into a hug. Then, she proceeded to roast him about Tommy for the next fifteen minutes.

He hesitated to tell Bobby and Athena . Not because he expected a negative reaction; after all, they had come together because Michael was brave enough to share that hidden part of himself. Buck knew they accepted him fully and had no doubt they’d do the same to him. It was a different kind of anxiety. The kind he imagined people felt when introducing someone they’re seeing to their parents. That was an experience he never had. When he was younger and girls started showing interest, he was too caught up in hormones to commit to just one long enough to bring home. Besides, his parents wouldn't have cared even if he did.

Sure, Bobby and Athena met and interacted with his past girlfriends before. Buck never asked what they thought of them, never asked for their approval. He was younger back then, did what he wanted, saw who he wanted. He didn’t need anyone’s approval. They didn't question him when those relationships inevitably crashed and burned; they were simply there. Whether it was celebrating his proudest achievements, scolding him for his reckless behavior, or keeping vigil by his bedside after a close call with death, they were always nearby.

He knew he wasn’t their kid. He was in his thirties for crying out loud. Yet during countless family dinners, moments at work, and various celebrations, he would catch glimpses of domesticity and could briefly imagine that he was their kid. He could envision that this was how it felt to be loved by parents.

He wanted them to like Tommy. It was a strange feeling, wanting to bring someone home and introduce them. Deep down, he desired to do it properly, but it was way too soon for that. They were still getting to know each other, without labels or exclusivity. Well, they were exclusive on Buck’s side, but they hadn't had the conversation yet, so he didn't want to presume.

For now, he would settle for introducing him as his date for the wedding.

“Buck!” Athena exclaimed as she answered the door, surprise evident on her face as she opened it wider to let him in. “What did you do?”

“Can't I come over without being accused of doing something?” Buck asked with mock hurt, flashing a playful smile.

“You’re always up to something.” Athena chuckled.

“I’m not intruding am I?” He asked, wanting to make sure. He could totally come over another time.

“Of course not, come. Coffee is on the counter.” With that she glanced at Bobby, communicating something Buck couldn’t decipher and walked off.

Bobby was in the living room and greeted him warmly. With a coffee in his hand, Buck sat down on the couch. They talked for a bit, catching up on one of the calls they had the other day. Buck tried to pay attention to the conversation, but his mind was elsewhere. He wondered what the best way to bring it up was, feeling his mouth go dry as he glanced down at his mug. Eventually, Bobby, sensing Buck's distraction, asked what was on his mind.

“I, uh,” Buck began, biting his lip nervously. “I have a date. For the wedding.”

“Really? Is she someone we know?” Bobby asked curiously, perhaps sensing there was more to the conversation.

The silence stretched out. Buck finally raised his eyes to Bobby, trying to find the words. Bobby tilted his head.

“Is he someone we know?” Bobby asked, his tone softening.

“Yeah, it’s Tommy.” Buck finally managed to say.

“Wow.”

“Wow?” Buck frowned, his stomach dropping.

“No! Not like that!” Bobby was quick to correct it. “More like I should have realised you two would hit it off.”

“Yeah, we hit it off alright. Is… is that weird?”Buck asked tentatively.

“Why would it be weird?” Bobby responded, genuine confusion in his voice.

“I uh, I don’t know.” Buck sighed, rubbed his face and rose up. He pointed towards the kitchen. Eager to change the subject. “Forget I said anything. Want to grab something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Buck,” Bobby stopped him, rising and clasping a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve know you since you were wet behind your ears. I’ve watched you go from a reckless kid to a great man. And while I’d appreciate if you would stop giving me heart attacks with the stunts you pull on the job, your heart has always been in the right place. So if you’re happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

A lump formed in Buck's throat, and he blinked back sudden tears. Before he could react, Bobby pulled him into a hug After a moment of surprise, Buck hugged him back.

“I’m proud of you kid.” Bobby added softly, loud enough only for him to hear.

“Thanks, Bobby.” Buck managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion.

They pulled away, with Bobby giving his shoulder a final squeeze. Buck cleared his throat, a smile breaking out.

Athena's voice interrupted their moment, teasing and light-hearted.

“Ain’t you two looking cozy. Anything interesting to share?”

Buck glanced at Bobby, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I, uh, was telling Bobby about bringing Tommy to the wedding. As my date. Uh, the pilot that helped us find you.”

“I’m impressed Buck,” Athena grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What’s his name?”

“Tommy Kinard.” Buck replied and watched her pull out her phone and type it in phone. “Wait, are you doing a background search on him?!”

——-

Kissing Tommy was quickly becoming Buck’s favourite thing to do. They were at his loft, hanging out in the kitchen as Buck was still without a couch. His parents had gotten one for him, but it was more aesthetically pleasing than comfortable and after a 24-hour shift it pissed Buck off and he sold it the next morning. He had yet to buy a new couch.

As they waited for their Italian takeaway to arrive, conversation flowed easily between them but his attention was drifting, unable to resist stealing glances at Tommy's lips. Sensing Buck's gaze, Tommy flashed a knowing smile before taking hold of Buck's chin, and guided their lips together in for a kiss Buck's breath hitched in his throat as their lips met, his hands instinctively finding their way to Tommy's waist, pulling him closer. As the seconds passed, Buck’s confidence grew and he licked at the bottom of Tommy’s lip. Tommy hummed in encouragement, parting his lips, his hands roaming over Buck’s back.

Their kiss grew more passionate, more urgent and before he knew it, Tommy grabbed at his legs and hoisted Buck on top of the counter. A surprised gasp escaped Buck as he instinctively grabbed at Tommy for support. Tommy took the opportunity and slotted himself against Buck’s legs, wrapping them around himself.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Buck groaned out, his voice thick and eyes half-lidded with desire.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, pretty boy.” Tommy grinned, planting another kiss on his lips. He didn’t let Buck deepen the kiss, instead trailed light kisses down his cheek and neck. Buck gasped in pleasure at the nibbles along his neck, causing his body to jolt into Tommy’s when he sucked a particularly sensitive spot. Tommy's hand on his leg tightened, grounding him.

Buck flinched, startled, as a series of loud knocks on the door interrupted them. Tommy let out a frustrated sigh, briefly nibbling on Buck's neck once more before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll get it.” Tommy muttered, his eyes still dark with desire. He glanced at Buck’s lips and quickly kissed him again before moving away to get the door. As Tommy's back turned to him, Buck took a moment to catch his breath and ensure his legs hadn't turned to jelly. With a sheepish smile, Buck adjusted his jeans, feeling the warmth creeping into his cheeks.

Tommy managed to get rid of the delivery guy in a record speed and brought the pizza box to the table that was already set. Buck pulled out two beers from the fridge and joined him.

“I tried to get you in but Chimney was adamant that it’s not a bachelor party if we are making in a corner instead of partying.” Buck said as he brought the beer to his lips.

“Wise man, I can barely keep my hands off you.” Tommy sent him a flirty smile. Buck was getting a suspicion that this smooth fucker said things on purpose to make him blush.

“Also, Athena ran a background search on you.” Buck blurted out before his mind caught up with him. Probably not the best thing to say. “I mean, I told Bobby about us and she asked so you know. Told her as well.”

“Really?” Tommy raised his eyebrow in amusement. “Should I be worried?”

“Not unless you have something to hide.” Buck quipped playfully, his gaze locking with Tommy’s.

“Not to my knowledge. But do let me know if I have to flee the country. I’ll need time to prepare my chopper.” Tommy chuckled, his demeanor relaxed as he grabbed another slice of pizza.

“Speaking of telling people about us.” He continued. “Evan, are you absolutely sure about bringing me? It’s a big step, even if I wasn’t a man.”

“Yeah, of course.” Buck replied with a soft smile. “Besides, everyone who are important to me already know you’re my date. The rest can deal with it.”

Tommy's gaze turned thoughtful as he considered Buck's response “What about your parents? I assume they will be there.”

“I mean,” Buck shrugged. “I mean, something tells me that won't be the most disappointing thing I've done in their eyes even if they don't like it."

“Complicated history?” He guessed. They hadn’t really discussed their parents or their relationships with them.

“Something like that.” Buck alluded. He didn’t really want to get into it. His own feelings towards parents were complex, and definitely not a conversation for a date night.

Tommy seemed to understand and didn’t pry further.

“Well for what it’s worth,” Tommy's hand found Buck's on the table. “I can’t wait to be shown off by you.”

—-

Link to ao3:

[until-i-set-him-free]

Story time!! So this morning I was strolling through the forest by the lake, y'know reconnecting with nature and shit, and right there by the trail, THESE TWO DUDES WERE SPARRING. Two beefy guys, shirtless, boxing gloves on, tits and tats out, just going at it like there's no tomorrow, panting loud and all sweaty in the sun, not minding anyone. I tell ya my gay ass had a HARD time walking past them, but when I averted my eyes it was not only so my gaze wouldn't become lustful, but because there was something so intimate about this and they were truly so invested in each other and nothing else that even looking at them felt like intruding.

Now, I don't know shit about Muay Thai, but it got me thinking about them lessons happening outside, some secluded place, surrounded by nature and fresh air and in the sunlight. 🌳🌳🤼‍♂️🌞💕🌳

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