#tommy hangar

[mdemn]

yes, i love mde. yes, its my favorite of the mafia trilogy. yes, i can say with 100% conviction that objectively… tommy is not an interesting character. for him to be the protagonist, he sure does have no depth to his character written in the game

[prodge]

3 dads

[alchemistc]

He never hid it from Bobby. That's the thing he keeps trying to remind himself, as he sits on the razor edge of this dumb fucking argument and keeps deciding not to ask for advice on how to fix it.

He never hid it from Bobby. It was just -

Bobby's approval means something to him. It always does. Hell, even fucked up coma-dream Bobby digging through pill bottles had been the conscience on his shoulder. And at the time he'd been sure of two things:

1. He wanted this to work with Tommy

and

2. If Bobby had cautioned him he'd have backed off from his speed run to reassess and he didn't want to second guess himself.

Because it had felt right. It had felt good, and safe and warm and terrifying in a way he'd never really experienced before.

So. He'd talked about Tommy at work and he'd dealt with the teasing (he'd loved the teasing) and when Bobby had caught him tucking a toiletry bag stuffed with condoms and lube into his overnight bag, and told him Tommy was good people - good for him - he'd rode that high for another three months.

It had felt - adult. Grown up. No need to hit up Captain Dad for advice on this new thing he'd navigated with advice from people he saw more as peers than authority figures.

Only.

It had felt like the first time Emily Harden had smiled at him from her desk two seats over from his, too - heart fluttering in his chest and eyes catching on the thin skin of her neck right below her earlobe and he'd ducked his head and wanted to bash it into his desk just to make sure he wasn't dreaming because he could still feel her lips - sticky with that sweet tasting gloss - on his from when they'd snuck behind the auxillary classroom after lunch.

And it had felt like that first time he'd fumbled with a condom in the back seat of someone else's car and Ashley J had giggled, two years older and definitely not the first time for her, and steadied his hand as she rolled it on for him, and Buck had been pretty sure he loved her. (He'd loved her the way a child loves it's favorite toy, and he'd cherished her for paying so much frank attention to him, and she'd loved the way his cock filled his shorts and her pussy and how focused he was on making it good for her.) He hadn't even come, that first time, too fucking terrified to go off early that the nerves had settled like a vice around his balls and so instead he'd grunted into the side of her neck, pulled out and gotten his fingers up in her just to make sure the fluttering he'd felt around him was real, and with hushed gasps she'd ridden the palm of his hand until the fluttering happened a second time and he discreetly tucked himself back in his shorts before she could notice.

It felt like - firsts and lasts and everything in between. Tommy - Tommy was something new and good and achingly familiar at the same time Buck felt like he'd never experienced anything quite like this before.

So.

And Bobby - Bobby's been off doing this new thing, away from them because he'd - he'd been done, or something. With the job, with the 118, with Buck maybe too

He's mad as hell right now, though, headset on while Athena relays the absolutely ridiculous plan they've concocted and even as Bobby drives the engine they'd one hundred percent stolen from the set of Hotshots (they weren't even hotshots, is a thing he knows and has ranted about to Tommy multiple times, while Tommy licked icing from Buck's bellybutton and dropped amusing snark into the skin of his thigh). And actually, Bucks's mad too, because he and Tommy haven't resolved the whatever it is that had actually been at the heart of their stupid fight and now he's - now he's -

Mehta is already on scene, commandeering a hangar to set up the engines from other stations, and he's taking over comms even as Bobby's lips purse and Athena's voice trails off.

"They're insane," Buck says, and Bobby's nod is crisp and firm. "That sounds like a bad movie plot."

Bobby blinks, and then he does something inexplicably frustrating. He laughs. "It is. It actually is a bad movie plot."

He barely stops laughing the entire drive there.

Buck isn't actually sure why they took the fake fire engine - it isn't actually kitted out with anything real other than a CO2 tank, Buck isn't even sure the ladder extends, but maybe Bobby had just been caught up in the moment, although - although he's driving this one, after some weird tense standoff with the actor Buck's pretty sure plays the captain in the dumb inaccurate firefighter show (they've never even shown the 119 doing fire suppression, let alone dropping into a wildfire, why did they call it Hotshots), which is not usual at all.

Buck feels the stress all along his spine, in his bad leg, rolling along his arms and up his neck while Mehta keeps the lines mostly clear and then there's Tommy's voice. He's in the air, and it's weird to realize that he's not at the controls, because instead he's gonna do something absolutely batshit insane.

("Give that man thirty seconds and he can figure out how to fly anything," Ruiz had mentioned, three months ago, while Buck piled another scoop of casserole onto her plate and watched Tommy duck his head bashfully like it was embarrassing to be so good at your job that people thought you were maybe a little superhuman.)

Mehta looks simultaneously pissed and resigned when they disembark from the purloined engine. It's gone full dark, by now, and most of the engines in the bay are set up and ready to go, and Bobby's haphazard parking job has put them just out of the way. There's a 217 engine tucked in between two 118's and Buck wants to take a picture of it to send to Tommy because he'll either have something amusing or devastatingly charming and sappy to say back but -

But Tommy's harnessing up in the back of a chopper he's usually flying and also they're still fighting.

Maybe.

Kind of.

Bobby gets a stern look and a finger pointed towards where Hen has the 118 circling her, and Mehta just sighs when Buck looks to him for orders. Buck is - technically - maybe a little suspended right now, on account of being the reason Gerrard has a crack in his skull instead of a saw blade in his side, but the all hands on deck situation seems to be tipping in Buck's favor.

"You leave my comm line open, Buckley," Mehta says and waves him in the direction of the 118.

Buck races to catch up to Bobby

---

It actually works, is the thing, and Buck watches Bobby wrapping Athena up in his arms and remembers that moment something had clicked over in his head - some deep part of his brain following the interesting pull of this firefighter pilot with a wicked sense of humor and the same fucked up crazy fuck it attitude Buck's family had. Who Cares, only they all care so goddamn deeply about everything all the time, and Buck's hindbrain had recognized something long before the rest of it did.

Tommy's the last one off the plane. He's got a helmet tucked under his arm and the harness still in place and his hair is a mess, sticking up on one side and plastered to his head on the other, sweaty and windswept and smiling at Buck the moment he catches sight of him.

Eddie and Chim are both busy dealing with passengers and Buck is grateful as hell because he absolutely knows he'd end up competing for Tommy's attention if they were around to see him disembark.

(They're at work, Buck reminds himself. They are in full view of about a dozen different firehouses and a planeful of passengers besides. Buck is still mad at Tommy.)

"Hey," Tommy says, low and gravelly half a second before he slings out an arm to drag Buck in by his neck.

("Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" he'd asked, anxiety creeping red hot up the back of his neck, and Tommy had been joking, probably, but Buck can't quite remember the circuitous path they'd made to this point, only the feeling like he was five inches tall and Tommy didn't want to be his date to some official LAFD thing. "Like - I mean - I thought the whole point of you pumping the brakes forever ago was you didn't want to hide or be hidden, Tommy!"

And they hadn't actually gotten past that, because all hands on deck meant every firefighter in LA had gotten the reverse 911 that highly encouraged them to get to their stations immediately.

Buck resists for half a second, and Tommy's eyes dart to his when it takes more muscle than he'd been expecting to tug Buck to him.

He looks so goddamn good. Buck wants to eat him up. He also -

"People can see, Tommy," Buck says, and Tommy's smile is wry.

"Kinda the point, sweetheart," he says, and Buck doesn't fight it when he tips his head to press their foreheads together.

They still gotta have this out. They need to actually talk about it, despite Tommy's aversion to digging deep into his psyche to pick at his vulnerabilities. They need to -

Someone wolf whistles across the tarmac. Probably fifty heads turn in their direction. Tommy tips his chin up to press his lips to Buck's birthmark.

"You're not off the hook for the conversation just because you decided to be a bit of an exhibitionist," Buck says, and Tommy's face does something complicated but ultimately understanding.

Mehta makes direct eye contact and looks somewhere between amused and annoyed, but he doesn't make a move towards them.

"Do I at least get points for being a badass?"

Buck raises a brow, and Tommy pouts a little.

"How about a very public kiss, at least?"

"I distinctly remember you saying something about how shoving it down peoples throats was something you had a problem with."

"I had some time to rethink my position, while I was clinging to the nose of a plane."

Buck loves him. He's - they're -

Buck dips forward for a quick peck, and across the tarmac it sounds like Donato and at least a dozen other firefighters have gathered to heckle - they get a few canned boos and some hissing, a rapt audience. Tommy tosses something over his shoulder that Buck can't see because he's suddenly being crowded into Tommy, hands on both hips and his nose digging into Buck's cheek.

"They're not gonna stop until we give 'em a show."

"They got a whole B Movie plot already," Buck argues, but he's tracing the grooves of Tommy's smile.

"Evan, you know those always close on a kiss before the credits roll."

He does, actually, now, because Tommy isn't shy at all about sharing his interests with Buck. Movie nights happen all the time, and sometimes Tommy gets invested enough that Buck climbing into his lap isn't even enough to distract him.

"I'm serious, though. We actually have to talk about this, at some point."

Tommy tips his head to the side, blows out a breath against Buck's earlobe. "You finally cave and hit up Bobby for advice?"

Buck can't help but nip at a tendon drawn tight against the side of Tommy's neck. Whatever their crowded audience can see in their shadowy embrace spurns them into a catcall or two.

"At least I'm not going to Eddie," he snipes, because he knows Eddie knows more than he's letting on. "Also no, because we can figure this out on our own."

Tommy's cheek dances up against Buck's, like Buck's said something he appreciates. "Will you just kiss me already so we can get rid of the peanut gallery?"

Buck tips his chin and gathers Tommy's lips in his own - a beat, two, three, and off in the distance he can hear Donato making her minions disperse, and then he's lost to the kiss for a bit.

When they break for air, Buck has a hand stuffed half-in the zip of Tommy's flight suit, and Tommy's looking at him with something soft and warm and achingly quiet amidst the cacophony. "I really wish you were a little less of an adrenaline junkie, but, uh... you just rappelled out of a helicopter onto the nose of a plane and landed it safely and that's - really doing it for me."

"Evan," he says, faux-scandalized. "Stop trying to seduce me before we've had excruciating serious talk."

[whineandcheese24]

thinking about a universe where Buck never went to the basketball game, or at least never body-checked Eddie. Buck still has this weird feeling, but he goes home and he tries not to think about it, and he goes to work and he tries not to think about it, and Eddie tells him about the drinks he and Tommy grabbed after the game and he tries not to think too much about the twist in his gut or the shiver down his spine. but then he gets a call from Tommy asking if he was serious about those flying lessons, and Buck says yes before he even processes the question because all he hears is that he'll get to spend time with Tommy without anyone else there. he doesn't quite understand why but he knows that's what wants. So he and Tommy meet up at the hangar for a lesson, and one lesson turns into two turns into four turns into drinks after shifts and Tommy's karaoke bar trivia. And he and Tommy are friends now but that fluttery feeling in his stomach never quite goes away. One day Tommy offers to show him some muay thai moves and Buck doesn't think anything of it until Tommy is shirtless and sweaty and Buck loses focus long enough for Tommy to end up on top of him and Buck's face is burning up in a way he knows is from more than the workout but he doesn't know why. Buck goes home after that hot and bothered and really confused and maybe he just needs to start dating again. It has been a while since he and Natalia broke up, but he scrolls through a dating app for a half hour, and none of the women that show up are appealing so he goes to sleep unsatisfied, mind drifting to hard muscles and big arms and a crinkly smile that he doesn't remember in the morning. This goes on for a little while, where he hangs out with Tommy, and his stomach flutters in a way he can't explain. Until one day after flying lessons, Tommy comes up to his apartment, and Buck hands him a beer, and the two of them are sitting next to each other at the kitchen island just talking about life and work and flying, and the whole time Buck is hanging on Tommy's every word, looking directly in his eyes, ever so slightly tilting his head, moving his arm closer, scooting forward in his chair, and he doesn't even realize what he's doing except Tommy's voice is low and gravelly, and Buck's face is heating up again, and it's getting hard to keep looking at him so he goes to get another beer, and when he comes back Tommy is standing. And he's just a hair taller than Buck, but it's enough to make his breath catch in his throat. In this universe, when Tommy leans in, his fingers guiding Buck's chin up to his lips, he's slow and deliberate. In this universe, Buck kisses him back harder and hungrier, because even though he still wasn't sure what it was Tommy was making him feel, he can't say he's surprised this is where they ended up. In this universe, Tommy takes weeks to kiss him, but it's longer and hotter and doesn't just stop at a peck.

[iamcxlleigh]

I remember how much effort I put into this, I did EVERYTHING from 0, without Templates or anything. ♡

❛ 🌡️ ⌗ ¡ Lo nuevo en Netflix ! MAFIA : DEFINITIVE EDITION LLEGA A NETFLIX ESTE 25 DE SEPTIEMBRE.

¿Te atreves a conocer la historia de Tommy Angelo y su camino junto a la familia criminal Salieri's en Lost Heaven?

Créeme.. es una oferta que no podrás rechazar...

credits for : @iamcxlleigh

¡ attention ! Todo el contenido presentado fue hecho totalmente por mi, sin el uso de contenido de otros autores, los gifs e imágenes junto con las interfaces de la aplicación netflix fueron hechos por mi, por lo cual está totalmente prohibido que uses este contenido tomándolo como tuyo, respeta el trabajo y esfuerzo de los demás !

Los personajes y nombres del tema principal pertenecen al juego Mafia : definitive edition, publicado y distribuido por las empresas 2K Games y Hangar 13, créditos a ellos por el uso de su contenido para realizar este trabajo.

Lo más importante para mí es que te haya gustado. ♡

‹ 06. Ago. 2022 ›

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

"Buck's still baking."

There's a long pause following these words, though they've been uttered in such an alarming way. Apart from that, Tommy can't make sense of it.

"He's ... baking?"

"Yeah, well, you know," Howie stretches each word, he's chewing on them.

"I sure don't," says Tommy.

"Wait, has nobody told you?"

Disbelief is dripping from Howie's voice now, and Tommy can only bite his lips to not remind him of the obvious: no, nobody has told Tommy anything about Buck in the past months, and he's not dared to ask. That's the uncomfortable truth, and since he doesn't really know where his and Howie's friendship is to place right now, he doesn't say it. He doesn't need to, because Howie is quick to talk on.

"He's been baking since you two broke up," he explains, as if that would explain anything. "Breads and cakes and pies and whatever, he's just not stopping. At first, he said it distracted him from calling you, but now I'm not so sure."

Oh, thinks Tommy. His mind doesn't stop there, he did want to call me? Why didn't he? Why did he need distraction? What does it all mean? It's an endless cycle of why's, and his stomach kind of hurts about all the missed opportunities. His own fingers have typed messages, almost on their own, so many times. He's deleted them all.

"And now," Howie continues, "now Eddie's gone, and he said Buck came by to say goodbye and he brought him some cookies. He's made cookies for Eddie, so he's still baking, and Tommy, we can't take it anymore."

"You can't take it anymore?"

He's thinking about the constant ache, that Evan-shaped gap in his heart and mind and how it never went away, never got any smaller. Weeks turned into months, but the pain persisted, like caries eating away at teeth, gnawing away more and more of the enamel because it wants to get to the core. And the core, well. The core is his feelings, Tommy knows that. He's just not sure what Howie understands of all this. Why he would care.

"No. Our fridge is packed, the cupboards are loaded, Tommy, he doesn't stop baking, and we're paying for it! He's at our door all the time, not only at ours, he's been baking for Hen and Bobby and the whole dispatch and ... everybody, really. But it still doesn't stop. There's tons of baked goods!"

"You... you called me because you're sick of cake?" Tommy asks, he can't believe it.

"The cake is a lie!" Howie almost screams now, close to hysterical. "Why are you two not talking? You need to talk."

He calms down a bit, takes a deep breath before adding, "It's not the cake, Tommy. It's ... he's sad. He's unhappy. He's not well."

"I can't fix him," Tommy snaps.

"You're sure about that?"

Yeah, Tommy, are you?

"Look, Howie, I don't really know what you expect me to do."

"Talk to him," he replies, as if it were really that simple.

But isn't it?

"You're guilt-tripping me because I'm the one who left," Tommy says.

What he thinks, however, is that it's been months, how can Evan still be unhappy? How can he still be sad? The answer is obvious.

"Yeah, does it work?" Howie replies. "Because we don't know what else to do, Tommy. At least talk to him. I know you want to."

That's bold.

"Why would you say that?"

There's a typical Howie-laughter, a low chuckle close to a crack.

"I got friends at your station," he claims, which is probably not true, but Howie is a prankster. Howie knows how to pry into secrets. "So I know," he continues, "that you pounce on every hour of overtime. You've slept in the hangar. You're not dating anyone. You're on some strange diet that is apparently so time-consuming that you haven't had an after-work beer since you broke up. Shall I go on?"

Tommy curses at the satisfaction in Howie's voice, but what can he say? All of that is true (and some is a lie, and Howie knows it).

"All of this means ..."

Don't say it, thinks Tommy.

"... Buck's still got a chance."

That's not quite the right conclusion, because he never not had a chance. This is Tommy thinking he didn't have another, that he didn't deserve it.

"Please," Howie pleads, "we don't need more breads and cakes. And Buck deserves to be happy again. You know he was happy with you, right?"

This is not Tommy's fault. And it is Tommy's fault. And maybe, maybe it's just a big misunderstanding. Something adults can work on, even if they - he - said some hurtful things.

"You think he would bake me some cookies?" he asks, and he's not even joking.

[kinley-cafe]

Tommy drove to the café as soon as his shift ended to help Buck get the orders ready.

After 15 minutes of shuffling around the kitchen and sidling past each other, Buck notices a piece of paper sticking out of Tommy's back pocket.

"Hey, what's that?" Buck curiously asks.

"What's what?" Tommy furrows his brows.

"That. In your back pocket." Buck points.

"Oh, this?" Tommy unfolds the paper, revealing a flyer.

Buck reads the flyer, his eyes growing wide. "Harbor station has an annual gingerbread contest?!"

"Yeah." Tommy waves his hand. "I never enter."

"Wh-why not?"

"Well, for one," Tommy begins as he reaches behind Buck to grab a bowl. "I don't really participate in many Christmas traditions, and secondly..." he sighed. "I'm really bad at making gingerbread houses."

Buck smiles in response. "Good thing I'm an expert."

"Oh yeah? An expert?" Tommy says teasingly.

"We're gonna enter you in that contest." Buck declares confidently.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Don't we have a lot of orders to prep?"

"C'mon." Buck nudges him. "We could use a break."

"A break?" Tommy narrows his eyes. "I just got he—" Before he can even finish his sentence, he's dragged along by Buck, who is adamant about helping Tommy enter the contest.

Buck helped Tommy make a Gingerbread Hangar with peppermint helicopters. Isn't it cute? Tommy thinks it looks a bit silly, but he did have fun.

And it was nice to spend some time with Bu—Evan again.

[xofemeraldstars]

#and Buck hurt himself and Tommy kissed it better #right? — tags by @station18908

I don't remember if he got hurt hurt but he DID trip at some point and tommy came to him to help him up and buck got all giddy-flustered-blushy about it 🫶

in my heart's heart I saw bucktommy again cause I dreamed of them 🤗 🫶🥰

the dream was an au of the basketball scene where buck was falling over himself (even literally at some point lol) to get tommy's attention WHICH HE GOT‼️cause tommy was enamored with him 🫶 and they were very cute 🥰

[mdemn]

ok tommy “family is forever” angelo— what’s your daughter’s name and when was your son born? 🤨 🎤

[rosyhoneydew]

Buck decides to go home for Christmas when, after Maddie tells her she’s pregnant again, Margaret Buckley decides to throw a small shower (“it’s a sprinkle!”) during Christmas “since you’ll be home anyway.” Maddie’s venting about it to Buck and she barely even has to ask before Buck agrees, of course he’ll go too.

The only problem? There’s a winter storm that hits the east coast on the day Buck is supposed to fly. Madney and Jee arrived the day before and Buck is supposed to be landing the night of the 23rd, but all flights in the Pennsylvania and Jersey and New York are canceled. He’s on the phone with them when Chim jumps in with “I have an idea!”

So he follows Chimney’s instructions on where to go and ends up parked at a hangar. He has a few moments to think no no no there’s no way before it’s abundantly clear that Chim’s little ‘idea’ is to have his ex-boyfriend fly him home in his helicopter.

Buck tries to back out “don’t you have plans? I can’t make you fly me all the way there” but Tommy’s ever the gentleman “I don’t. It’s no trouble, let me get you home for your sister’s shower.” So he hops in and they fly cross country to PA.

It’s a bumpy ride but they just barely make it, the only problem? Tommy can’t get clearance to fly out once they get there. Of course, Margaret and Phillip are ‘delighted’ to have Buck’s boyfriend home for the holidays and “you just flew our son home of course you can stay!” Cue holiday fake-we-never-broke-up antics

[madlori]

Ok my fam, I think we all need a lil Come to Jesus moment. So let's talk about it.

"I'm disappointed Tommy wasn't in 8x02 and 8x03." That's ok! We'd all like to see him, and see our boys together. Going by precedent, we can probably expect to see him in 6-8 episodes this season (it could be more - Taylor had 13 episodes in season 5 - but we shouldn't count on it) and we've already burned one. I'd prefer not to have half of them during the opening disaster when SO MUCH ELSE is going on. I'd rather him appear in episodes when he's got a storyline with Buck, or even on his own, and especially at the midseason break or the end of the season when Relationship Events are more likely to happen.

"But the 217 engine!" I know. But as we sometimes like to say to other fans - we kind of baited ourselves with that. It was suggestive, sure. But the fact that production has MADE a 217 engine is also suggestive that we may see it again later, and they just put it in the hangar scene because they already had it and they had to fill up that hangar with as many vehicles as possible.

"An airplane disaster without using the pilot??" As others have pointed out, Tommy's not a jet pilot. And don't let anybody make you think you were nuts for thinking it was possible. It was definitely a reasonable theory, with supporting evidence, that he might be involved, but in the end, the big opening disaster is always going to be about our mains. As it should be. And honestly? It was great.

"But the whole point of bringing him back was to integrate him with the 118 more!" I'm sure that's still a goal they have, but it's probably easier said than done. Not just from a writing standpoint, but a contractual one, in that there's a limit to how often they can use him, so they have to pick and choose where.

"It's like they don't care about this relationship as much as we do." You're right. NOBODY will care about it as much as we do. They care about the main characters, about the show's actual premise (i.e. first responders encountering wild situations, secondarily the characters' personal lives). There is no universe in which ANY relationship in the show will be prioritized as much as we, the fandom, would like it to be. That's just life in the big city. But they do care, oh boy, they do. Enough to use BT scenes in off-season promo. Enough to write Tommy into a scene in the opening episode where, frankly, he didn't NEED to be. Also, consider this - to shoot that scene, Lou was probably on set a grand total of one day, MAYBE two. And they made sure to include him in the jokey "bee pickup lines" reel. You know what other relationship we haven't seen much? Buddie. They have not appeared together outside of work (and honestly, barely AT work either) except in the birthday party scene, and hey, did you notice that they do not interact at ALL in that scene? Buck spends that entire scene interacting only with Tommy. And that's a friendship featuring two mains that we know they value. That's not indicative of anything except the sheer scarcity of screentime.

"They should be promoting the queer relationship!" Should they? They've never really done that before, with the several pre-existing queer relationships. I have always sort of appreciated that they have not hung a neon sign on Buck and Tommy saying LOOK AT OUR NEW QUEER PAIRING. It's never gotten the Very Special Episode treatment - Buck never had gay panic, or much coming-out drama - and I like that. I like treating it no differently than other romantic pairings on the show. And they did actually promote it quite a bit when it happened. Now it would just feel kinda performative to me.

"Will he be in [whatever episode]?" Imma gently suggest we not do this every week. He'll be there or he won't. There'll be some we know he's in (I think 8x06 is a lock), some we won't know and will be pleasantly surprised, or unpleasantly surprised. I'd say odds for 8x04 are...20%, rising to at least 50% with 8x05 and 100% for 8x06.

And if you ever feel sad about it - go look at a still of Buck from any episode so far this season, and say to yourself, "This man is having heaps of amazing sex with his hot pilot boyfriend on the regular. Canonically."

I know a lot of us have encountered some pretty irritating gloating from people who hate this relationship (in a frankly weirdly obsessive way) about him being not there. Just remember - that's all they have to gloat about. The only "victory" they can claim is the absence of a character? Lame. And it's not even a victory, it's just the cost of doing business when your ship involves a recurring character. Sit back and enjoy your canon relationship between two men who've actually kissed on screen and ignore it. We can be generous about it.

So let's not talk ourselves off the deep end, shall we? I'd like to keep being a reasonable fandom.

[harmonic-intervention]

You're killing me with chemistry - Chapter 1

Buck knows he's bi. He knows what he wants. And what he wants, right now, is Tommy. Maybe his hand in marriage, because he's getting desperate. Because, despite all of his attempts, and all of the positive responses from Tommy, for some reason, Tommy just ... doesn't act on anything.

Tommy knows Evan is straight. He asked both Howie and Hen about it, and he trusts their word on it. It doesn't stop Evan from pulling him in, and making him fall head over heels for him anyway. Tommy knows better than to fall for a straight guy, he does, but ... he can't change it.

Everything would be easier if they just talked to each other, but where's the fun in that?

A little story based off on this post by @disaster-j and I hope I did your idea justice.

This story will have three chapters, the rest of which will be coming out in the following days. Rating and tags will change as we go.

Word count: 13,556 - canon divergence, bi disaster!buck & oblivious!tommy, sexual tension

Excerpt:

Buck was in hell.

You’d think that finding out he was bisexual would make things- easier? Clearer? The world was his oyster or whatever.

Okay, fine, the clarity of finally realizing what he was feeling for men was nice, freeing. Looking back on things, so many of them suddenly made sense – namely following Connor to LA from Peru. And a couple of other things. It brought him perspective.

He’d tried for a couple of relationships with men, but they fizzled out like his thing with Natalia had just before. Finding the right partner who matched him wasn’t easier with men, it seemed.

Whoever said that as a bisexual man, he’d have twice as many options – Eddie – was a liar and also naïve. It only got worse.

Until the night Bobby and Athena decided to re-enact Titanic in the most dramatic way possible. Buck did feel kind of bad about connecting so much joy with that night, but hey, nobody could blame him!

Not when Chimney introduced him to the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life.

Buck saw him, and he thought that he couldn’t be real. Men like Tommy Kinard didn’t exist. He was tall, broad, had a kind smile and pretty eyes, looked like the textbook definition of handsome, had large and strong hands – Buck almost lost his breath when he shook his hand – he was a firefighter and a pilot, and he was also batshit insane, it seemed. At least enough to fly them into a hurricane.

Buck heard his voice, and he knew immediately that he needed to hear him say his name. He felt like his insides melted when Tommy said, “Nice to meet you, Evan,” with a soft smile, his words so genuine that Buck felt something rearrange inside of him.

What the hell was Buck supposed to do? Not fall ass over teakettle for the guy? Okay, they barely talked that night, and the words they exchanged were tense. But Buck got to watch Tommy work, got to watch him confidently stride across the hangar and bullshit his way into getting them off the ground, got to watch him guide them through a storm with steady hands.

And then he got to watch him and hear him make fake mouth static at the fire chief, and Buck was gone. Men like Tommy weren’t real, but here he was, right in front of Buck.

[continue on ao3]

[cecilyv]

New Fic: In a Yellow Wood (9-1-1, buck/tommy)

@liminalmemories21 and I already wrote a break-up/make-up and a version of the “I’m your first, not your last” fight, so this is our newest version of a fix-it fic. Complete with baby, because, sure, why not?

It’s been three years since the break-up when Tommy saves a family and it upends his life.

He’s paying more attention to explaining what the various levers and controls do than he is to what’s going on in the hangar and his head whips around when he hears a familiar voice saying. “Kam, the whole point of leaving my kid with you was to not take him to work.”

9.8k, read on AO3

+++++++++

The call comes in early in his shift — family on a boat in distress.  The Coast Guard’s heading there already, going to tow the boat back to shore, but there’s a storm kicking up fast and they want the civilians back on dry land before anything gets hairier than it already is.

It’s not routine, because there are never really routine calls, but it’s uneventful.  He hovers the bird over the sailboat, holds it as steady as he can against the winds that are already starting to whip around them. He can see why the Coast Guard wants them moved shore-side like an hour ago.  Signals Lucy with a nod and a thumbs up that he’s set and lets her do her thing.  First up is the wife with a baby strapped tightly to her.  Then a kid — he’s not great with ages but maybe five or six; more fascinated by the helicopter than he is scared. His mom’s got her hands full, trying to calm the baby who’s decided it’s time to wriggle around and keep the kid from unbuckling his harness and exploring, but despite the situation she’s got a smile on her face and seems more cheerfully resigned to her offspring’s curiosity than worried about it.  Lucy comes up one more time with the husband, taps her coms to let him know that they’re all strapped in and he angles the bird back to base.

They land and he shakes the husband’s hand, and the wife’s, and then offers to show the kid the helicopter while the husband sorts out whatever paperwork he needs to do, and figures out how to get them all back to their car at the marina without any car seats.  The mom’s checking on the baby, who seems unphased by the moves from the sailboat to helicopter to hangar, while she has half an eye on Tommy with her older son, nodding thanks at him when he lets the kid climb in and around and poke buttons and flip switches. He can’t hurt anything. 

He’s paying more attention to explaining what the various levers and controls do than he is to what’s going on in the hangar and his head whips around when he hears a familiar voice saying, “Kam, the whole point of leaving my kid with you was to not take him to work.”  

He stares out of the helicopter windshield in shock as Evan (Buck, he corrects himself — he gave up the right to call him anything else), wearing his LAFD t-shirt tucked tightly into his pants, walks across the hangar floor. His hair is sheared short, curls gone, but he’s laughing and shaking his head, as he cups one of his big hands against the baby’s back and peers down into the wrap, clearly checking to make sure he’s in one piece.

The woman — Kam, apparently — is laughing with him.  “He was fine.  I nearly shit my pants, but he just blew a bubble.”  She looks up at him.  “Like father, like son, I guess.”  Nods over at the kid in Tommy’s bird.  “Both of them apparently.”

(continue on AO3)

[alchemistc]

kiss in the rain, don't let me get on that plane

an: it feels like this might be part of a series. every iteration of a fix-it my brain comes up with penned to paper, as it were.

The air is crisper up here, the sky more blue.

Air operations is a county-wide endeavor here, with five volunteer departments in the surrounding towns to drive the engines where they're needed, but the hangar in the valley below him houses six helicopters, two engines, and one functioning ambulance. The other one is, apparently, out of commission and the yearly budget won't be available for another three months.

His station doesn't work with Air Ops very often, but once a month they host a county-wide dinner and Buck had volunteered to cook the bulk of it, this time.

He's full - with food, with laughter, with a lot of light hearted teasing from the other captains about how he'd only gotten the call because he's essentially indestructible on the job (I've died twice doesn't seem to have much effect when he's standing across from them living and breathing)

He's been getting his lungs used to the elevation for a while now but he can't quite blame the thin air when his breath stops in his throat at the sight that meets him when he crests the hill towards his Jeep.

Buck feels his fist tighten around the shoulder of his duffle.

"Hey," Tommy says, and he looks -

Well he looks exactly like he'd looked three months ago at Buck's going away party.

Eddie had flown in with Chris for it, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a while, and Buck maybe just hadn't noticed the mischievous tilt to his grin when Eddie had pulled away from a back slapping hug, or maybe he just couldn't have clocked exactly why he looked quite like that.

He'd just been happy to see him after seven months without the comfort of a key to Eddie's place on his keyring, of knowing he'd get to see and talk to and be teased by his closest friend within a few days of the last time. He'd been ecstatic, actually, the grin refusing to leave his face while he hugged Christopher longer than necessary, while he listened to Eddie whine about his mother in a way Buck had never heard before, like he was actually a little amused by her rather than angry with her.

He'd been happy to be distracted by Bobby and Athena as they began their recollections of all the stupid shit he used to get up to, the calls he'd proved to be vital on, the ways he'd grown and changed in the near decade he'd been a firefighter.

"They're lucky to have you," Bobby had said when there were tears of laughter in everyone's eyes, and maybe he had or hadn't noticed Maddie clock-watching but he certainly noticed when front door opened and wide shoulders filled the frame - large hands curling around the handle, the downslope of a familiar nose hitting the open air before the rest of a familiar face. Thick arms framing a barrel chest and long legs in tight jeans.

It'd taken Buck another four hours and a series of hushed confessions whispered across a shared pillowcase for him to notice the slash of new silver along his temples.

He notices them now, again, as Tommy drops from the driver's side of his truck and tips his hip against the frame, sunlight catching in the lighter hairs. Tommy looks more wary than Buck's ever seen him. More hopeful, too.

"Did you mean it?" Tommy asks, and - Buck had said a lot of things, that night.

He can make an educated guess, but he's actually thinking he needs to make Tommy work for it, this time. It's startling to realize he's actually making moves to be a little selfish when his heart is pounding in his ears like this. He tips his chin. Drifts a yard and a half closer.

Tommy's gaze shifts. "Evan," and it's been three months since that night but they've talked, text threads that switch between bickering and serious and flirty and friendly, a few phone calls on hushed evenings when the cabin walls creak with wind around him. Buck hasn't heard Tommy say his name like that since it'd slipped out by mistake, three months ago, when Buck shifted his hips just enough to hit Tommy's prostate dead on. "I sold my house."

This is the big gesture, then. The one they'd talked about like it was a little bit silly, like it was still the kind of thing people did in movies that didn't really translate to a lived life.

"I literally talked to you yesterday," Buck says, and contemplates throwing something at him out of frustrated elation. A conversation from two days ago clicks. "Eddie knew, didn't he?"

Eddie with a smug tilt to his grin as he tipped the camera away from an unimpressed Christopher, Eddie pressing and pushing and wonderingly asking Buck if he'd thought about actually moving in to the house they'd offered up to him as part of the captaincy package. How Buck had scoffed, content to putz around his little bachelor cabin in the woods.

Tommy shrugs. "I shipped him all the mats from my garage when I was packing. Apparently I'm a shitty liar so he didn't quite believe me when I told him I was just upgrading."

He's beautiful, as he shifts his weight and drifts away from his truck, towards Buck, backlit by the gold-flecked, fluffy clouds hanging low over the jagged horizon line.

Buck checks his grip on his duffle.

"What happened to the car lift?"

It's - it's stupid, actually, but Buck feels like the next ten-twenty-fifty years of his life might hinge on the answer to it. Tommy steps closer - close enough for Buck to smell the aftershave on his very freshly shaved jaw. "I'm, uh. Thinking of having it shipped up from storage. If I find a place to stay."

He's got three more months he can't get out of on the cabin lease. The captains house is currently being occupied by his three most reckless probies and he won't just kick them out on a whim.

There's that ranch he sees tucked away in the valley, every time he drives into work, the one that's had a For Sale sign up since the first time he'd visited, four and a half months ago.

Buck drops the duffle and reaches forward to tug at the loops of Tommy's jeans.

The kiss is warm, soft, familiar. He shoves three and a half years worth of longing into it, in the way he hadn't, three drinks too deep with his ex after all his friends and family had wished him farewell. He'd spent six months after the breakup angry and hoping to make Tommy eat his fucking words; no one kisses like Tommy.

No one curls fingers so delicately around his ear before he lays his palm flat to Buck's scalp and tugs at Buck's hair, no one opens his mouth and licks in with a swirl and a groan like that, no one shifts their weight closer and breathes him in on a gasp.

"Tommy," Buck says, when they're both breathless and overwhelmed. He thinks of the text he'd sent, three weeks ago, after a phone call with Tommy about the kid who'd died in the air with him at the controls.

(Firsts and lasts are never guaranteed, and he hadn't meant it to sound petty, he'd really just meant to make a point about how a first high school dance and a last high school dance weren't so diametrically opposed.

Getting back a string of unpunctuated texts with misspelled words and no order or coherence had been enough to turn on his bedside lamp and call.

Tommy's voice had been tired, defeated, words slurred in a way Buck can't remember ever hearing before. It was a wall breaking down that he'd honestly never expected. Not after he'd thought he was chipping away at them only to realize Tommy had just been reinforcing them at the base.

"God, I fucking miss you," he'd said, while Buck stumbled through a speech about the survival mechanisms of the African beetle bug. Three and a half years, three semi-serious relationships between them and now over a thousand miles separated them as they'd been. A night of tipsy fucking before Buck kissed his sleeping forehead and hopped on a plane didn't change that.

But there in the quiet spaces between their breaths over the phone, he'd felt the weight of being missed by Tommy Kinard.)

"No one calls me Buck up here," Buck tells him, while they both press into each other, hands shifting over clothes, limbs stretching to meet, faces tucked in close. "You'll have to get used to Evan not being so special."

Tommy sighs. A finger draws a line from his temple to the curve of his jaw.

"Evan will always be special to me."

He's the first person since Buck began to ever call him that just because. There have been others, since then, no longer exclusive to the man who laughed as they soared through clouds and the one who'd brought him so fucking low he'd felt parts of himself fully fracture.

Buck is pretty fucking sure this means he wants to be the last. Still. He can tell his expression shutters by the way Tommy looks momentarily browbeaten, but his eyes clear, and he tugs Buck further into his chest, bundles his arms around him. "Ask me again," he says, and Buck stares into his eyes and tries to imagine what they'd look like against a skyline without smog, high up in the air, the ground falling away from them.

"That ranch I was telling you about is still for sale," Buck says, and tries desperately to keep his expression neutral as he continues. "Maybe in a couple years, you can help me with the mortgage payments."

Tommy nips at his nose, his laugh soft and quiet, warm. His eyes are a little misty.

"You're breaking my heart, Evan Buckley," and he has to clear his throat, corners of his eyes going wet. "Always knew you would."

Right now it's little more than a gesture and a promise. Buck's had three years to reflect, to understand that for all that Tommy had been the one who'd helped him reach this current update of Buck, they'd never actually dealt with too many of the hard parts. They'll have to fight for it. They'll have to talk through stupid shit, and miscommunications, and fear and regret and the love, too.

He thinks maybe Tommy's finally ready to fight.

---

Eddie looks smug as he catches sight of Tommy stumbling blearily down the stairs behind Buck on the video call.

Buck makes a face.

"Do you know how many times one of you thwarted my parent trap-esque plans for you two assholes? When you were both single six months ago I nearly hired some creep off Facebook marketplace to kidnap you both and lock you in a room."

Tommy ruffles Buck's hair, flips off the camera, navigates his way to the coffee pot, out of Eddie's view.

"And that's my cue to go," Eddie says, and Bucks gaze darts guiltily from Tommy's ass. "I better be the first one you guys invite to the housewarming." And he hangs up before either of them can argue that this is brand fucking new and they really haven't worked through the details.

He's right, though. He's right. Buck's got his teeth in the back of Tommy's neck twenty seconds later, and when Tommy leans back into it he holds up his phone and shows Buck the listing for the ranch he's been daydreaming about sharing with someone (this someone) since the first time he saw it.

[fake-mouthstatic]

valentine's day

@bucktommyfluffebruary, day 14. rated G.

💕

"Uh, hi, excuse me?"

Tommy pokes his head around the door of the chopper he's cleaning to see a delivery driver standing just inside the hangar door, holding the biggest bunch of roses Tommy has ever seen.

He smiles, wondering who'd lucked out with such a beautiful Valentine's bouquet.

"Someone's a lucky lady," he says, wiping his hands on a rag before heading over.

The guy looks down at the card.

"Tommy is, apparently. Tommy Kinard?"

read the rest under the cut or on ao3 // other days here

Tommy just stares at him, surprise freezing him to the spot.

"That's me," he says after a moment, voice thick with emotion.

The delivery guy grins at him.

"Someone's a lucky man."

Tommy laughs, feeling the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Yeah," he says, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I really am."

He takes the flowers, inhaling the sharp, sweet scent as he thanks the driver and heads to the kitchen to find a vase.

"Wowza," Dee says, a smirk on her freckled face as Tim lets out an impressed whistle.

"Who's the lucky lady, huh?" he asks, gaze flitting between Dee and Captain Clarke before looking back at Tommy expectantly.

"I am," Tommy says, a bright grin breaking across his face. "They're from Evan."

"Damn, Kinard," Dee says, smiling as she punches him playfully on the shoulder. "You must be doing something right for him to send that many roses."

Tommy blushes again; no one had ever sent him flowers before and it makes him feel pleasantly warm all over, makes him feel cherished in a way that he hadn't felt in an awfully long time.

"Oh ho, you've got it baaaad," Tim says, smirking at him over his coffee mug. "That's a got it bad smile."

Tommy shrugs, still grinning as he brings the roses to his nose, smelling them again.

"Yeah, maybe."

"So when do we get to meet him?" Captain Clarke asks as she rummages in a cupboard, apparently looking for something. "You live together right, I feel like it's been long enough to introduce us all."

"You've already met him, haven't you?" Tommy asks, frowning. "When he came for the tour after the cruise ship thing?"

Captain Clarke turns so quickly she smacks her head on the cupboard door.

"Wait- ow, shit - it's the same Evan?" she asks, rubbing her forehead as she stares at him. "The human ball of sunshine that bounced around the place asking questions at a million miles an hour?"

"Do you know a lot of Evans?" Dee asks, smirking as Tim laughs.

"No, I just-" She shakes her head, smiles. "I'd kinda put him down as straight."

Tommy laughs as she turns back to the cupboard, carefully this time.

"Honestly, me too for a start-"

"Aha!" the captain cries triumphantly, turning with a vase in hand. "I knew we had one somewhere."

She passes it over.

"It's nice to see you so happy," she says, smiling sincerely.

Tommy smiles shyly back.

"Happy doesn't begin to cover it."

[bucksboobs]

Buck: mayday, mayday this is Pilot Buckley of American Airlines flight 118, we are going to make an emergency landing at the Kinard hangar coming in hot at high velocity. Do we have clearance to land?

Tommy: Evan, I swear to God just put it in me

Buck: Roger that Ground Control, landing gear has been deployed.

Tommy: Land that 787 jumbo jet, baby.