#someone give Tommy Kinard a hug and some pasta

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Eight: Surprise. Tommy's had a really, really bad shift (off-screen), and he shows up to the greatest surprise ever: his boyfriend, pasta, and comfort. Edit: I just realized Tumblr somehow lost my tag for @bucktommyfluffebruary and my AO3 link. Why, Tumblr. Why.

It’s been a terrible shift, and Tommy is ready for it to be over. He’s going to plaster a million posters around the Hollywood sign that say: “If you fall/slip trying to climb on or around this, LAFD will no longer rescue your dumb ass and you’ll have to live with the fucking consequences.”

Lucy, Braun, and Melton agree with him, Cap thinks it’s a bad idea. They’re spitballing less extreme alternatives to keep their minds off the calls that came before the Hollywood sign incident, because if Tommy thinks about a couple of them for too long he’ll probably start crying.

When he pours himself into his truck, he drives home on autopilot and parks in the driveway, because he has the Chevelle on the car lift at the moment. He blinks at his front door, because the three small square windows at the top have light filtering through. There’s no way he left the lights on when he left for work two days earlier, but he also might have. He can’t tell anymore.

He unlocks the door and goes inside, and the house smells like food. He can hear a podcast or something in the kitchen and follows the sound just in time to see Evan close the oven door.

“Oh!” Evan says when Tommy sets his bag down on the island. He whirls around and grins, tapping his phone on the counter and cutting off the man who was talking about something related to the Manhattan Project. “Hey, baby. I wanted to surprise you with dinner.”

And the sight of Evan in his kitchen making him what smells like something with sauce and cheese and herbs and who knew what else after one of the worst shifts Tommy’s had in years is what breaks him. He covers his hand with his mouth to muffle a sob, and Evan’s arms are around him so fast it’s like he teleported across the room.

“Hey,” Evan murmurs in his ear, rubbing his back. “Hey, I know. C’mere, you’re okay, you’re home, everything’s okay here.”

He’s kissing the side of Tommy’s head and his hair and his forehead and whispering reassurances that Tommy actually believes, because Evan knows. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what happened, he knows, and it’s worth everything.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but after a while they’re just hugging each other and Tommy has his cheek on Evan’s shoulder and his nose against the side of his neck. When he straightens up, Evan’s hands come up to his face and wipe away tears and brush over the scratch on his cheek. His eyes are so blue and clear and full of concern and love, and Tommy fights down everything inside him that wants to tell him he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you hungry or do you want to go lay down?” Evan asks, pressing their foreheads together.

“I can eat,” Tommy says, and his voice sounds thick and nasally. He needs to blow his nose. “I should eat.”

“I’m making stuffed shells, and there’s some sprouts and stuff,” he says, massaging the back of Tommy’s neck with gentle squeezes of his hand. “And there’s cheesecake after. Or we can have it now.”

Tommy melts under Evan’s touch and smiles. “I can wait.”

He kisses the corner of Evan’s mouth and then gives him a soft kiss before stepping away. He really needs to blow his nose, but he’s back at Evan’s side as soon as he’s done. Evan’s putting a salad together, so Tommy doesn’t feel so bad about draping himself over him while he does it.

“Did you know?” he asks, his voice muffled against his stolen flannel that Evan’s wearing.

“I had a feeling,” Evan replies, pausing to reach up and hold Tommy’s hand where it’s resting over his heart. “You didn’t text back much, and I heard about last night before I left the station.”

Tommy shudders and squeezes his eyes shut, and Evan’s other hand comes up to also squeeze his forearm, and lips press against the inside of his bicep when Evan turns his head. Tommy will talk about some of it, probably, but it’ll be later. He needs to just not be immersed in horror for a little bit. He needs carbs and cheese and his boyfriend.

“This is ready, you wanna eat?” Evan asks, and Tommy nods. “Okay, let’s go, I’ll get your plate.”

They end up eating curled up on the couch so Tommy can turn on a movie. He’s been showing Evan some queer movies, because Evan’s actually been interested in those, and they watch Big Eden. Tommy needs something warm and fluffy, and it’s like the cinematic equivalent of a warm hug.

They pause about two thirds of the way through so Evan can grab them dessert, and he comes out with the entire cheesecake and two forks.

“We’re adults,” he says to Tommy’s raised eyebrows. “We could’ve had frosting for dinner if we wanted.”

He eats almost a quarter of the cheesecake—it’s a small cheesecake—and ends up stretched out on the couch with Evan on top of him until the movie’s over.

“I liked that one,” Evan says, rubbing his cheek against Tommy’s chest. “Tired?”

“No,” Tommy says, because he’s really not. He’s exhausted, but he doesn’t know when he’ll sleep next.

Evan looks up at him and reaches up to stroke his knuckles over Tommy’s jaw. “Want to watch another one?”

He leans into the touch and sighs. “Yeah.”

They make it through The Birdcage and halfway through Love, Simon before Tommy falls asleep. When he wakes up, Evan’s drooling on his chest and the Roku screensaver is on.

“Baby,” he whispers, kissing Evan’s curls and inhaling the smell of his shampoo.

Evan inhales sharply and slow blinks at him like a cat. “Mm. ‘Zit?”

Tommy looks at his watch. “It’s 3:30. We should go to bed.”

His boyfriend nods and sits up. They strip down to their underwear and crawl into bed, and Tommy pulls Evan’s sleep-warm body against his under the cool duvet.

“Love you,” he whispers.

“Love you so-o much,” Evan mumbles back, stroking Tommy’s side.

“Thank you. For everything.”

He can see Evan’s smile in the dim light filtering in through the window. “Anytime.”