#no more parts... hope i'm forgiven 😗

[mmso-notlikethat]

here my last try to make amends 🥺 Part1, Part2, and ao3

The knock on Buck’s door came late, just as he was gearing up for his shift. He still had about an hour before he had to leave, but the last thing he expected was a visitor at this time of night. He frowned, tossing his phone onto the couch and padding barefoot to the door.

When he opened it, Tommy stood there.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Tommy’s eyes were tired but clear, his posture almost tentative, like he was waiting for permission to speak.

“Hi,” Tommy said softly, his hands buried in his hoodie pockets.

Buck crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Tommy’s lips twitched, a faint attempt at humor slipping through his guarded expression. “Well, if it helps, I thought about not showing up. For a while, actually. But then I remembered how charming I am.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, his expression flat. “Yeah, that’s definitely the word I’d use for you right now.”

Tommy tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Dashing? Irresistible?”

“Annoying,” Buck snapped, his voice clipped.

Tommy’s faint smirk dropped, replaced by something softer. “Yeah. That one, too.”

Buck stared at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicked over Tommy’s face. Finally, he exhaled sharply and stepped back. “Forget it. Come in before my neighbors start wondering why I’m glaring at you.”

Tommy stepped inside, his movements careful, like he wasn’t sure he was welcome. He stood near the stairs, glancing around the loft like it might give him clues about how to start.

“So?” Buck prompted, crossing his arms again. “You’ve had days, Tommy. Why now? Why not a call, or a text? No, you just show up and... what? Wing it?”

Tommy hesitated, then smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I figured if I winged it, you’d yell at me less.”

Buck’s glare hardened, and Tommy flinched under it.

“Evan—”

“Don’t,” Buck cut him off sharply. “Don’t say my name like that. Like you didn’t rip me apart and walk away like it was nothing.”

Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know what to say, okay?”

Buck’s laugh was bitter. “That’s a first. You had plenty to say when you were walking out the door.”

Tommy winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That’s fair.”

“No,” Buck shot back, his voice sharp. “It’s not fair. Nothing about what you did was fair, Tommy.” He paused, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the victim of your own choices.”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it again, visibly gathering himself. Finally, he looked Buck in the eyes and spoke. “You deserve the truth, Evan.”

“Yeah, I do,” Buck said, his arms tightening over his chest. “So why don’t you start there?”

Tommy hesitated, his jaw tightening as though the words were physically painful to say. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes flicking away for a moment before nodding slightly, like he was convincing himself to go on. “Uh...” He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me.”

He stopped, the words hanging in the air before he forced himself to continue, his voice quieter now. “For one reason or another—my fault, their fault, circumstances...” His voice dropped almost to a whisper, “death—it doesn’t matter. It always ends the same. I’ve watched people I cared about walk away, and every time, it felt like they took a piece of me with them. Until there was almost nothing left.”

Buck’s chest tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

Tommy’s voice cracked, but he pushed on. “And then you came along. And you—you were this... this light. You made me feel like maybe I could have something good again. Something worth holding onto. But the thing is... I didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust myself not to ruin it.” He stopped, the words catching in his throat as his gaze flicked to Buck, then away again. After a beat, he added, softer this time, “And I didn’t trust you... not to leave.”

Buck’s eyebrows shot up, disbelief flashing across his face. “So you decided to leave first?” His tone was flat, but the hurt in it was unmistakable.

Tommy nodded, shame flickering in his eyes. “It wasn’t about you, Evan. It was about me trying to protect myself from the kind of pain I wasn’t sure I’d survive again.”

“And you thought that would hurt less?” Buck asked, his voice breaking on the question.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, and then his voice rose a, a rare flash of frustration breaking through. “You know you didn’t come after me that day, Evan!” The words were sharp, cutting the air between them like a knife. “What does that tell me? That I’m right?”

Buck flinched, his face breaking in a way that made Tommy’s stomach drop. The anger drained out of him instantly, replaced by regret.

“God, Evan,” Tommy said, softer now, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean—” He stopped, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“No,” Buck said, his voice low but trembling. “But you did.”

Tommy let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “You told me that day that you wanted me to move in with you.” His laugh turned bitter, self-deprecating. “God, Evan, you really didn’t think about me at all when you asked me that, did you?”

Buck’s expression faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Evan, I—” Tommy gestured around the loft, his voice softening as he tried to explain. “I own a house. One I worked hard on. This,” he said, gesturing again toward the space around them, “this is pretty. It’s lovely. I love your loft, Evan. But this isn’t a place for two grown men to live in, is it?”

Buck blinked, his posture stiffening. “You could’ve said something.”

“I didn’t know how to,” Tommy admitted, his tone weary. “I didn’t want to hurt you, and I knew that saying no... it would’ve felt like rejection. But Evan, that day? I panicked. I thought, if I said no, maybe you’d see it as me not wanting to be with you. And if I said yes...” His voice broke slightly. “I didn’t know what to do. So I ran.”

Buck’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of Tommy’s confession settling heavily between them. “You should’ve told me,” Buck said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You should’ve let me in. I would’ve stayed, Tommy. I would’ve fought for us.”

For a moment, Tommy’s eyes flickered with something Buck couldn’t name—relief? Regret? It only stoked the fire in Buck’s chest, the ache shifting into something sharper, hotter.

“You didn’t trust me, Tommy,” Buck said, his voice rising now, shaking with the effort to keep his emotions in check. “You didn’t trust us.” His hands clenched at his sides as the words spilled out, jagged and unrelenting. “You just—” He jabbed his finger toward Tommy, his voice breaking with anger. “You just ran, because that’s what you do. You’re a damn coward—”

Tommy flinched at the word, his breath hitching audibly. Without a word, he turned away sharply, his face angling toward the wall. His shoulders tensed, his hands gripping the edge of the armchair like he was bracing himself for a blow that wouldn’t come.

“What, can’t even look at me now?” Buck snapped, his anger spilling over. “You were so eager to leave, Tommy. So eager to run again. Go ahead, just run—”

Buck stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as something caught his attention. Tommy’s hand jerked upward, brushing quickly at his face, but not fast enough.

“Tommy, wha—” Buck’s tone shifted, his anger faltering as concern flickered in his voice. He took a hesitant step forward. “Are you—?”

Tommy turned back before Buck could finish, his face streaked with tears he’d been trying—and failing—to hide. His jaw was tight, his lips trembling as he sucked in a shaky breath, but the tears kept coming, betraying him. His eyes burned, glassy and raw as they locked onto Buck’s, and there was a flash of something in them that made Buck falter completely.

“Don’t,” Tommy said, his voice trembling but sharp enough to stop Buck in his tracks. His hand trembled as he wiped at his face, but the tears wouldn’t stop. His chest heaved as he fought to speak, to keep it together, but the fight was already lost.

And then, suddenly, he snapped. “You think I wanted to run?” he choked out, his voice breaking. “You think I don’t hate myself every second for leaving you? For breaking this? Do you have any idea what it’s like—” He gestured vaguely, angrily, his voice climbing with every word. “—to feel like you’re going to lose everything, again and again? Do you have any idea how it feels to be so fucking scared of losing someone that you rip your own heart out before they can do it for you?”

His words poured out in a flood, raw and unfiltered, as the tears kept falling. “I left because I thought it would hurt less if I was the one to walk away. But guess what? It doesn’t! It hurts like hell, Evan. Every goddamn day, it hurts.”

Tommy’s hands shook as he scrubbed at his face, but it was useless. The tears kept coming, streaking his cheeks, his voice trembling under the weight of everything he’d been holding in. “You think I ran because I’m a coward? Fine. Call me a coward. Call me whatever you want. But don’t stand there and think I didn’t care. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Buck stared at him, his chest tightening as the anger drained from his face, replaced by something softer. Something unsure. He wanted to say something—anything—but his throat felt too tight, the words sticking like stones.

Tommy let out a bitter laugh, his voice trembling. “You think I don’t hear your voice in my head every day? You think I don’t regret every second of it? I hate what I did. I hate that I hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stay, Evan. I didn’t know how to let myself have something good without being terrified it was going to get ripped away.”

He gestured toward himself, his movements jerky, unsteady. “This—this is me, okay? This mess. This broken, pathetic, scared piece of shit who doesn’t know how to hold on to anything good because everything good always leaves. And I thought maybe if I left first... maybe it would hurt a little less. Maybe I could keep some piece of myself this time.”

The room was thick with silence, heavy with the weight of Tommy’s words. He shook his head, his breathing still uneven as he looked away again, his hand dragging roughly across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know it’s not enough. I know it’ll never be enough. But I am so goddamn sorry.”

Buck finally stepped forward, his movements slow, tentative. His hand hovered near Tommy’s arm before he pulled it back, his voice soft but steady. “Tommy... I didn’t know.”

Tommy let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Well, I see you now,” Buck said quietly. “And I still—” His voice wavered, but he swallowed hard and pushed on. “I’m still here, Tommy. You didn’t lose me... Not completely.”

Tommy looked at him then, his eyes glassy but searching, like he was trying to find the truth in Buck’s words. His lips trembled, his jaw tightening as he nodded once, the tears still clinging stubbornly to his lashes.

Buck’s chest ached at the sight of him, so raw and open, and he let out a soft, shaky breath. “I’m not saying it’s okay,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m not saying I can just forget about what you did. But I get it now. At least... I think I do.”

Tommy’s breath hitched, his hands still trembling. “I don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

Buck’s gaze softened, though his tone remained steady. “That’s not for you to decide Tommy,” he said firmly. “We both made mistakes. But if we’re going to do this, it has to be together.”

Tommy’s breath hitched. “I know that now. And I’m here because... because I want to fight for us, too. If you’ll let me.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their words filling the room. Then Buck shook his head slightly, his voice softer but no less firm.

“You don’t get to do this to me again,” Buck said, his tone laced with exhaustion. “If we’re going to do this, it’s all or nothing. No running. No excuses.”

Tommy nodded, his jaw tight as tears threatened to spill again. “I’m not running, Evan. Not this time.”

Buck let out a shaky breath, his eyes scanning Tommy’s face. The raw vulnerability there made his chest ache, but the weight of the moment pressed down on him, leaving him unsure of what to say next.

He huffed a soft, almost nervous laugh. “You know, I should probably be throwing something at you right now… A pillow, maybe.”

Tommy blinked, a faint crease forming between his brows. “A pillow?”

“Yeah, nothing too dangerous. Just something to get it out of my system.” Buck’s lips quirked upward, but his eyes betrayed the storm of emotions still churning beneath the surface.

Tommy let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well...” Buck shrugged, the small smile fading as his gaze dropped to Tommy’s hands, trembling slightly at his sides. His own hand twitched, the urge to reach out tugging at him, but he hesitated. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should. If he could.

And then he looked up—really looked—and saw the streaks on Tommy’s face, the glassy sheen in his eyes, the way he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. Something in Buck softened, the edges of his anger and hurt giving way to the undeniable pull of the man standing in front of him.

Without overthinking, Buck closed the space between them, his movements slow, deliberate. His forehead came to rest gently against Tommy’s, their breaths mingling in the fragile silence.

“Ask me, Tommy,” Buck whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself feel the closeness, the weight of everything unsaid between them.

Tommy’s breath caught, his eyes glassy as he whispered back. “Evan... will you give me a second chance? A second chance so I can prove to you how much you matter to me, how much I love you?”

Buck kissed him softly, his hands coming up to rest against Tommy’s shoulders. When they pulled back, he smiled faintly. “Only if you trust me this time. With your heart and all of it.”

Tommy let out a watery laugh, their foreheads still pressed together, their noses brushing. “We’ll make this work,” he said firmly, his voice thick with emotion.

Buck nodded, kissing him again, deeper this time. When they finally pulled apart, Buck whispered, “I have a shift.”

Tommy chuckled, his hand lingering on Buck’s arm. “Really? And... should we meet on Saturday?”

Buck laughed, shaking his head as he pulled Tommy into a tight hug.

---

Sunday morning, a knock echoed through Buck’s loft. He opened the door, his hair tousled and his shirt still wrinkled from sleep.

Tommy stood there, holding a bag of groceries and wearing a tentative smile.

“Can I make you some pancakes?”

Buck stared at him for a beat, then grinned, stepping aside to let him in.