#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

[vlsn-the-third]

[iamcxlleigh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬... 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬.

❛ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑 ❜ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 : 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𓄹

credits for : @iamcxlleigh

[rcmclachlan]

Wrote this today while I should've been working (don't tattle).

Submitting it for the approval of the Fuck It Friday Society. Thanks to @epiphainie for tagging me!

+

"So? Tell me about the hot pilot."

It takes only a second to scroll through the rows of photos until he finds the one he wants to show her, but instead of handing his phone over, he takes a moment to admire it. The post has nine photos in it and this is the fourth one in—it's by far his favorite out of all the others on the account. Considering how many contenders there are, that's really saying something. 

Maddie pointedly clears her throat and Buck ducks his head with a sheepish laugh, because he knows he's being mean by keeping her waiting. If the tables were turned and she was holding out on him, he'd be ready to tackle her to get to the phone. Plus, he's already looked at the picture at least three hundred times over the last two days; it's not like he's going to miss anything. He's pretty sure he could draw it from memory. 

Nervously licking his suddenly-dry bottom lip, he slides the phone across the counter to her, and she snatches it up like a winning lottery ticket, or Golden Grahams, which she used to hide from him when they were younger because he could house an entire box in a single sitting. 

She draws in a surprised breath when she looks at the screen, and he takes it as his cue to round the island and crowd in behind her so he can peer at it from over her shoulder.

Whoever took the shot should get a Pulitzer. It was taken through the open door of a helicopter, perfectly framing the three people in the cockpit. There are two kids—a girl no more than ten years old wearing a headset and looking at the instrument panel, while the other kid has their back to the camera, showing the familiar logo of two hands holding each other on the back of their shirt—and then there's Tommy, who's half inside the opposite door and haloed by the light of the Harbor hangar, his gaze focused on whatever he's pointing at on the panel. His head is slightly turned, exposing the textbook-perfect right angle of his jawline, and his mouth is half open. But, unlike every picture where Buck looks like a dumbass with his mouth open wide enough to drive a truck through, Tommy looks handsome and competent, caught mid-explanation about manifold pressure or rotor RPMs or any of the other gauges that Buck looked up before he'd called for the Harbor tour. 

"Buck," Maddie says, stunned. She opens her mouth like she's going to say something else, but then she closes it with an audible click. 

"I know."

She spins around and smacks his arm, her grin threatening to consume her entire face. "Buck!"

"I know." He does know. He really does.

"Oh my god." Maddie turns back to the phone and swipes to see the other photos, but the only other one in the post with Tommy in it is a group shot. He stands in the back of a gaggle of kids with four of his teammates, taller than everyone else, and it's either the vivid blue of his flight suit or the magnetic force field that seems to hover around him all the time, but Buck's attention is drawn immediately to him. The first time he saw the photo, it took him a second to realize there were like twenty other people in it. 

"Oh my god," Maddie says again.

Each of Tommy's hands are on the shoulders of two kids, and he's smiling so widely that his eyes are almost closed. He looks so good. He looks like he did when he glanced up from the menu as Buck approached the table—like anyone in the world could've shown up but he was thrilled it was Buck specifically. No one had ever looked at him like that before. Like he was the correct answer.

And that's a wrap on our annual flight rescue simulation! As always, huge thanks to the Los Angeles Boys & Girls Club (@labgc) for introducing us to the next generation of heroes. Can't wait to get up there with them again someday! #labgc #lafdharbor1 

He blows out a breath. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot. There's no way you could've anticipated Eddie showing up." Maddie swipes over to Tommy's full Instagram profile and starts tapping open photos at random. When she gets to another of Buck's favorites—the one of Tommy mid-laugh, sandwiched between a man and a woman in a bar booth with trivia sheets spread out on the table in front of them—she mutters, "Good lord."

Buck looks at the man and how he's shoved up against Tommy's side, and he swallows around a familiar sour crackle in his jaw. He'd told Tommy point blank that he can get jealous, but he's a little surprised by how much he wants to reach right into the screen and rip the poor guy out of the photo with his bare hands. He shouldn't be shocked, though; he did maim his best friend for the crime of having Tommy's attention, after all. 

But that guy in the picture could've been Buck. If he hadn't been an asshole, he could've been the one sitting next to Tommy, pressed up against him and laughing, flushed with victory and good company and beer, filling out answers on the sheet and preening when Tommy turned an impressed smile on Buck for helping take their team to the final round because he knew things like what the fear of is flowers called and the world record for the longest hiccupping spree.

"I shouted to the entire restaurant that we were going to pick up hot chicks after dinner, Maddie," Buck says, and looks away from the photo where he isn't. "I might as well have paid someone to skywrite 'NO HOMO' above the Coliseum. So, yeah, I am an idiot for that."

She winces. "How'd he, uh, take that? Was he really mad?"

"Worse," he says miserably. "He was really nice."

Where his hand rests on the countertop next to her, Buck's fingers curl in to press against his palm, and the rest of his body wants to follow suit out of shame. He can't stop thinking about how quiet Tommy was after Eddie and Marisol left, how the confidence and charisma and razor-sharp wit had all grown dull and quiet from the time it took them to get up from their table and make their way to the street. 

When Tommy cut the night short, he could have been awful about it. He could have yelled. He could've called Buck a homophobe, or chewed him out for wasting Tommy's time, or sneer that Buck would be better off watching the movie from the comfort of the closet. It would've been well within his right to do any of it, and Buck had been prepared for it. 

He hadn't been prepared for Tommy to be kind.

"But it's not just that. I'm an idiot because… how did I not know? How do you miss something like this about yourself? Nine year olds are out there figuring it out with no problem, and meanwhile, I'm thirty-two and I had—I had no idea. I'm so stupid." 

He bends over and drops his head onto the counter with a painful, yet somehow satisfying thunk. 

Maddie places a hand between his shoulder blades. It's not too heavy, like she's holding him down, and it's not too light, like she doesn't know if her touch is welcome. It's just right. It always is. Even when she was a kid, she always knew how to hit the goldilocks zone when it came to comfort. His parents never came close. 

"What if it were me?" 

He tilts his head on the counter to look at the contemplative slash of her mouth. "What?"

"What if I were the one discovering this about myself?" 

The question is soft and sweet, like how their backyard in Hershey used to fill up with hundreds of dandelions in the spring and they'd spend hours picking them and blowing the clocks everywhere, but the smile on her face is the sound of their mother shouting at them to stop because she thought the dandelions were an eyesore and they were basically planting more of them to come up in the fall.

"Would you call me stupid for not figuring it out sooner? Would you say, 'Maddie, you're pushing forty, how did you miss this?'"

Offended, Buck comes off the countertop so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "What?! O-Of course not—"

"Then why is it okay when it's you?" She demands, voice trembling like she's physically pulling on the reins of her anger and it's fighting her, just like it did when he hitchhiked to Marysville with a group of boys and perforated both his ear drums jumping off the Rockville Bridge. "You don't get to call one of my favorite people stupid, okay? You're not. There's no time limit to these things, Buck. You just… you figure it out when you figure it out and not a second before, and I'd be saying the same thing if you were one of those nine year olds or if you were ninety."

Buck doesn't know what his face is doing, but Maddie takes one look at him, clucks her tongue in sympathy, and then wraps her arms around him. He presses into her embrace with a grateful exhale. 

Clinging to Maddie, to the quiet, endless strength of her, is nothing new, and neither is the wave of sheer wonder and disbelief that nearly knocks him on his ass because somehow she's his sister. Out of everyone in the world he could've been saddled with, he got the best of the best. He has no idea what he did in a past life to have earned a place in her current one, but it must have been amazing. 

"Thanks, Mads," he says quietly into her hair. When she first started dating Doug, she switched from the peppermint conditioner she loved to the floral stuff he preferred. Buck inhales a little and swallows tears upon getting a whiff of something sweet and minty.

She pulls back a little and pats his chest, smiling. "So, what's the plan?"

He blinks. "The plan for what?"

"For trying again," Maddie clarifies, pointedly, like she wants to call him dumb but can't because she just spent the last five minutes telling him he wasn't. "So you screwed up. Big deal. We all screw up. What are you going to do to fix it?"

"Uh, I-I don't think he's going to go for that, to be honest," Buck mutters, looking down at his phone. 

Last night, standing in Miceli's foyer and practically leaving craters in the floor where he was bouncing excitedly on his heels, he'd texted Tommy to see if he was already seated. The last message Tommy sent him reads: Head toward the back. I'm in one of the side booths on the left. You can't miss me :-) 

There hasn't been anything since.

After Tommy cheerfully knocked Buck's entire world off its axis and walked out the door with a grin and the promise of a date, Buck had paced his apartment like a caged tiger, feeling both too big and too small for his skin, jittery and restless. The fourth time he'd stopped in the middle of a room and started laughing for no reason, he conceded he might be losing his mind. He'd felt like the only thing keeping him from exploding or floating into the stratosphere was the fact he had a shift in the morning. He'd kept away from the windows just to be on the safe side. 

You like men, he'd thought giddily to himself, over and over. You are attracted to men. A man asked you out on a date and you said yes because you want to go. A man kissed you tonight and you loved it. You didn't want to stop. You want him to do it again. 

It was like he'd finally found the last missing piece to the Buck puzzle he'd been searching for as long as he could remember, and slotting it into place felt like skipping the 5.0 upgrade and going straight to a different operating system. Increased storage capacity. Longer battery life. A brand new product.

He'd swore to himself that he would be cool about it. He wouldn't be a clingy, needy mess and drive Tommy off before he was able to explore whatever this was. That lasted all of twenty minutes before he was texting Tommy with trembling thumbs to thank him for coming over and clearing the air, and then threw his phone across the room. He spent the next ten minutes fighting the urge to claw his own face off until he heard the ping of a new text message.

It said, Sorry for the delay I'm still driving. Thank YOU for your hospitality ;-)

Buck had to go stick his head in the fridge to cool down about the implications of that, but once he calmed down and unscrewed the manic grin from his face, they were off to the races. 

The only times they weren't messaging each other were between the hours of 1am and 5:30am, or if they were on shift. Although Buck didn't exactly hold to that. He found ways to sneak off a text or twenty during calls when he could, and he had the sneaking suspicion Tommy was doing the same. The photo he got of the sun setting over LA, taken through a helicopter's windshield, was kind of a giveaway.

It's been 24 hours since he last heard the text tone he'd assigned to Tommy's contact file—a sort of whuff sound that reminds him a little of rotor blades spinning—and he feels like if he doesn't hear it soon, he's going to go insane. 

This is absolutely not the first time he's fucked up a date and was ghosted afterwards, but it is the first time the subsequent radio silence has made him feel like his colon is tying itself into a square knot. And he hates it.

"So, you're just—giving up," Maddie says, incredulity turning the question into a statement of disbelief. 

He looks away from the phone and shrugs. "I'm… being respectful. It's pretty obvious he doesn't want to hear from me. I wouldn't want to hear from me."

"You don't know what he wants," Maddie points out. "He said he didn't think you were ready for this, right? Maybe he's trying to be respectful too."

He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but it sounds so plausible when she says it. Especially because Tommy hasn't been anything but even-keeled and kind and compassionate, and Buck truly doesn't think any of it is a front. If Buck reached out, he knows Tommy would respond. If Buck started texting him again and never once brought up the kiss or their disaster of a date, if he boxed up the overwhelming need to be the center of Tommy's attention and shifted things back to the safety zone of friendship, Tommy would let him. They'd be okay.

The thought of it makes Buck want to punch something. 

Maddie peers up at him with a sly tilt to her mouth, but instead of calling him on whatever she sees on his face, she simply says, "But I do think keeping this from Eddie is twisting you up a bit. Maybe you need to jump that hurdle before you can move forward."

He clicks his tongue and gives a reluctant nod, because she's right. As usual. "H-How do I tell him that I'm… you know."

"Okay," she says with a falsely bright smile and wide eyes, her tone needling. "If you can't even say it out loud, then maybe you shouldn't—"

"That I like men, Maddie, god," he whines, face hot. "You're so mean to me. Jesus, do you treat Chim like this?"

"Only when he asks really nicely," she says horrifyingly.

He sticks his fingers in his ears and starts shouting, "LA LA LA!"

Maddie cracks up, then gives his chest a conciliatory pat. Annoyed, he shrugs her off, which makes her laugh harder. "I'm your sister, doofus. I'm contractually obligated to piss you off until you do what I want sometimes. Didn't you read the handbook?"

Which makes him duck his head and laugh a little. "The handbook" was a running joke they had when they were kids about what siblings were and weren't allowed to do. He hasn't thought of the handbook since the whole thing with Doug, when he realized Maddie had been taken and a tiny voice in the back of the mind whispered, "According to the handbook, you're allowed to hunt him down like a dog and kill him."

Sighing, he leans into her and nods. "I know. I know I need to talk to Eddie. I-I just wish I had some kind of guarantee he's not going to—that nothing's gonna change when he finds out."

Leaning into him right back, Maddie promises, "If it does, I'll beat him up."

"Yeah?" He smiles, a little pleased by the thought. He wants to tell Tommy about it. But he can't. Not yet. "That in the handbook?"

"Page 53," she says, and hugs him.

[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.

[mannafromtevan]

I have a solid theory about the second part of the 9-1-1 season 8 opening disaster. We already know about beenado, but Tim Minear referred to a second disaster taking up the bulk of episodes 2 & 3, and shared that it's based on another classic 1970's disaster flick.

We know Athena is doing something involving going on an airplane (transporting a prisoner though I don't know if that was confirmed). Enter the classic b movie, Airport 1975.

Now, what happens in this movie you ask? After the pilot becomes incapacitated, a woman with no flying experience (*cough* Athena *cough*) is forced to try and land it. BUT THEN.

A helicopter pilot (who happens to be the woman's boyfriend in the film) DANGLES DOWN ON A ROPE FROM A MOVING HELICOPTER AND CLIMBS IN THE SIDE OF THE PLANE TO LAND IT SAFELY.

Guys. This has to be it. Action hero Tommy swooping in to take over in the cockpit? It's so ridiculous it has to happen.

Edited to add: The bts footage posted of the fire trucks pulling out of the hangar? Looks EXACTLY like this: https://youtu.be/8HF0jvwonLo. Here's a side by side comparison.

And here's the scene of the guy swinging down from the helicopter into the plane: https://youtu.be/1jScUYyryRM

[momotonescreaming]

Tommy version

It still felt a little novel, being allowed to just walk into Harbour Station.

Without worrying about getting caught, or kicked out, or trying to come up with another excuse to visit again. It felt very over there, out of reach. But now? Buck could park the Jeep and walk straight in, that giddy happiness bubbling up in his chest. He knew exactly where everything was now. All about the different hangars, which helicopter went where, where their lockers and kitchen was.

So when his and Tommy’s shifts didn’t quite align — he could walk straight into Harbour and surprise him.

The first time he did it Buck kind of felt like throwing up a little. He knew he liked Tommy, and Tommy liked him, but he wasn’t sure if this was something that was allowed. If they were quite there yet. He knew Tommy was out to his co-workers, had told them about Buck, but it was different to the 118. Tommy knew all Buck’s co-workers, his friends — so Tommy surprising him at the 118 was no problem at all. He could greet his boyfriend with a hug and kiss, knowing that Chim or Eddie was right behind him ready to crack a joke about how Buck got to see Tommy all the time, it was their turn now. And watch as his boyfriend greeted his best friends, enveloped quickly and warmly into the 118’s hold. Bobby inviting him to sit down and eat with them, no trouble at all.

Buck didn’t know Harbour that well. The only one he really knew apart from Tommy was Lucy, and that was a whole different thing.

So he walked into Harbour with his hands flexing nervously, awkwardly adjusting the bag of lunch he had intended to surprise Tommy with. Heart fluttering in his chest, at the thought of seeing Tommy again — but also at the level of unknown. All he knew about them was what Tommy had told him. And yeah, Tommy had said they were cool — were cool with him — just not on the level of family that the 118 was.

He didn’t have anything to worry about, in the end. Buck walked up to the first person he could see, some tech in a blue jumpsuit that looked familiar to the one Tommy was wearing that day they met. Asked if he knew where Tommy was, gut churning. Anxiety quickly relieved when the guy merely smiled and pointed to a nearby hangar, saying Kinard was in there.

It was different now. As soon as they spotted him making his way across the tarmac — Tommy’s co-workers, those he was closest to — one of them would shout across the Hangar that “Kinard, your man’s here.” 

Loud enough that everyone could hear them.

And Buck would feel that giddy swoop in his stomach again. He wasn’t some stranger, asking techs for directions. They knew him on sight. He wasn’t Buck, some firefighter from the 118. He was Tommy’s man, and his heart swelled at the sound of it.

Watching as his boyfriend appears from behind one of the helicopters, flight suit tied around his waist, crinkly grin on his face. The one that enveloped his whole face, like he just couldn’t hide how happy he was to see him. Buck could greet him with a kiss, arms wrapping around his waist, no longer worried about whether it was something Tommy was cool with in front of his co-workers. He knew Tommy liked it, liked him, even if he got teased to Hell and back for it. Got teased for the hard switch between the serious pilot Kinard, reserved and deadpan —  to a man horrifically down bad for his boyfriend. The happiest they’d ever seen him.

Buck got it, he felt happiest too.

Buck knew where the kitchen was now, the living room area, could head straight there and wait for Tommy to come back from a call if he really wanted to. Could grab his boyfriend’s hand and have lunch with him at work. He kind of did, want to, that is. Stealing away hours of each others time, in and around shifts because they needed to see each other.

He was welcome in Harbour, could have lunch at their tables and could drink coffee out of their ‘LAFD’s link from the streets to the skies’ mugs. The novelty hadn’t died down. The excitement. The honeymoon phase of it all.

How as much as he was inviting Tommy into his life, Tommy was inviting him into his. He tried, he made an effort, he was in this just as much as Buck was. This wasn’t one sided, this wasn’t Buck desperately throwing himself into a relationship that the other person didn’t care as much about. This was Tommy saying he wanted him to meet his co-workers, his friends. That he wanted his worlds to combine. He wanted Buck.

That still felt novel too.

[peppermintquartz]

Chimney is striding towards a tall, dark-haired man who is currently checking the cockpit of a helicopter. Time is of the essence, but they will still need to wait for Hen.

Tall guy has a nice ass, Buck thinks vaguely, a little distracted by all the activity that's going on around them. He wonders if the choppers get to go out every day. He would, if he were a pilot.

When the guy turns around, it is to reveal a handsome face: chiseled jaw, aristocratic nose, straightforward gaze, generous lips and - oh - a cleft chin. That face breaks into a broad smile, the lines crinkling at the eyes and around the mouth adding to the overall attractiveness of the features.

"Howie, hey!" Tall Handsome Guy hugs Chimney tightly, enveloping the shorter man in a sincere embrace. "Long time."

Wow. Buck blinks at the show of affection. When he gets closer, he sees that Tall Handsome Guy is actually about the same height as he is, but with a more angular face - that jawline is to die for - and he is broader in the shoulders. Even more handsome up close, too, which is totally unfair.

"This is Tommy, Tommy Kinard. He used to be at the 118," Chimney introduces. "Used to have a fat head, but he grew out of that."

"Thanks to you," says Tommy. He holds out a hand to Eddie and Buck.

Eddie shakes Tommy's hand first. "Eddie Diaz."

"Pleasure. And you are...?" Tommy turns to Buck.

Buck takes the proffered hand. Good God his hand is so big and strong. "Uh, Evan. E-Evan Buckley, hi."

"Hi Evan," says Tommy, smiling at Buck, the smile as warm as his hand. The name Evan sounds cozy and welcoming coming from Tommy, and for a second when Buck meets Tommy's eyes, he almost forgets to breathe. No man should be this good-looking, Buck thinks. Tommy clears his throat and his smile turns a little cheeky. "I'm gonna need that hand to fly the chopper, kid."

"Oh! Oh, right, sorry. I was just, um, thinking. About Cap and Thena."

"Yeah, we're gonna need Hen to show soon with some coordinates," Chimney says, looking antsy. "Can't go flying all over the Gulf of Mexico."

Tommy shrugs. "We'll do what we can. Wait, I see a car pulling in. Might be her. Get in the backseat, strap yourselves in. Once I get Hen clear of Melton, we'll dash. Hopefully she has a good cover story..." His cheeks puff out and he lets out an exaggerated exhale. Then he grins at the three. "If we're all arrested, can I blame it on you, Howie?"

"Yeah I really twisted your arm with the 'Please help us save Cap and Athena'." Chimney climbs in after Eddie.

"You know it's because of your irresistibly pretty face," says Tommy dryly, helping Buck get in, a hand on his elbow. "Alright, put those helmets on. Careful, Evan."

Buck manages to catch Tommy's faint frown just before the pilot takes his seat and starts up the engine, go over his checks or whatever pilots do. Tommy's concerned, which isn't a surprise. They're asking a huge favor.

But it's so cool that he is throwing in his lot with them, just like that. Buck doesn't think there are many people who would do this. Tommy Kinard really is pretty cool.

"Alright. She's ready to go when we are," says Tommy. He opens his door and slides out. To the trio, he says, "Don't touch anything. I'm gonna hang out near Melton and run intercept."

"We'll behave," Eddie says, holding up his hand like a Scout.

Tommy only rolls his eyes and chuckles before jogging away to the main hangar. Buck can't help noticing how the flight suit pulls over the man's shoulders and ass as he moves.

Wonder what his workouts are like, Buck muses. Maybe more squats and lifts.

Now, all they have to do is wait for Hen to show.

--

edited on AO3

Tommy's POV

[mdemn]

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

[tommystummy]

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.

[bekolxeram]

The S8 opening disaster is a plane crash. (or at least some kind of serious aviation incident)

They wouldn't have filmed scenes in the cockpit if it's just about some characters being passengers on a plane. Look at Lone Star, even in their uncontained engine failure episode, the cockpit isn't shown once.

Also, this is a crash truck.

It seems to be a potential mass casualty event as well, judging by the number of ambulances seen here.

The chance of the hangar at ONT being stand in for Air Ops actually went up after recent bts photos.

You see, real!Air Ops is a unit under real!Station 114, which operates as a regular airport firehouse, with its own dedicated crash unit. Whenever there's an accident at the airport where the 114 is located, they would be the first line of response.

Also, how many fire stations can you think of that keep their firetrucks in a hangar? It could be the LAFD commandeering a nearby hangar because there's an emergency, but why would there be an empty hangar just lying around in an airport in LA. Now, real!Air Ops also do not keep their firetrucks in the helicopter hangar, but it is right next door in the same complex.

I say the possibility of a plane crash happening at Harbor's airport is at least medium. I can't wait, for the aviation stuff and firefighter pilot Tommy Kinard!

Edit

That ARFF truck actual looks a lot like the exact model real!114 uses.

[sazzynatural]

Thinking about the fact that Tommy had a shift after their first kiss, so he probably went to the hangar all super giddy and happy and talkative and his coworkers were all wondering what in the fresh hell was going on.

[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Saturday 8/17: nicknames and terms of endearment | naming conventions | 1300 words | rated T

Tommy wasn’t much of a nickname guy. He shortened names, of course – he wasn’t the kind of asshole who insisted on calling Hen Henrietta or Eddie Edmundo – but Howie was almost always Howie, not Chimney, even after they reconnected, and the handful of other firefighters they knew with goofy monikers were still almost always referred to by their given names.

Buck had asked him about it, once; he’d assumed that an Army pilot would have been all in on nicknames and callsigns. But Tommy had simply shaken his head and said something about how, in his experience, they always came from negative moments.

Haven’t you ever noticed that? He’d said. They’re almost always based on something bad. A mistake or a close call. I don’t know, I just don’t think people should be known for something they fuck up when they’re a probie, or a raw recruit. When they’re still learning.

And Tommy wasn’t wrong; most nicknames did stem from some kind of fuck up. Usually something funny or ironic, but not always. To Buck it seemed almost like a kind of hazing ritual – maybe rite of passage would be a kinder term – like, can you really join the club if you can’t handle a little joke? But Buck also saw Tommy’s point. Saw how the loss of a name could mean the loss of agency, loss of identity, loss of control over one’s own person in a context when so much control had already been willingly given up. To service, whether that meant the military or the LAFD or just being the guy always willing to step in and do something.

Buck saw that, even if he didn’t feel it himself. For him, getting a nickname had been freeing – had been an opening up, a door to an identity he’d wanted for a long time without being able to name.

Becoming Buck instead of Evan had been – it was hard to describe. He’d always secretly wanted a nickname, wanted something cool and casual and jocular, something to show that he belonged somewhere. But Evan didn’t exactly lend itself to shortening or rhyming, and nothing he’d done in his youth had ever set him apart. Not in a way that mattered; not in a way that stuck.

He’d lived more than twenty five years of his life being Evan and feeling vaguely uncomfortable about it – until the fire academy, when someone had called him Buck and he’d just run with it, made it happen, finally carved out his own little niche in this world that suddenly meant so much to him.

And that’s how it had been – he’d just been Buck – until Tommy came along.

He hadn’t meant to introduce himself as Evan, when they met in the hangar. In fact, he hadn’t introduced himself at all; Chimney had been the one to make introductions. “Tommy, allow me to introduce you to your flight attendants for this evening’s little jaunt: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz. Boys, this is Tommy Kinard, formerly of the 118 and currently probably regretting picking up my calls.”

They’d all shaken hands, faces serious. The weight of the moment and what they were about to do was heavy on their shoulders, despite Howie’s wisecracking, and it hadn’t even occurred to Buck to throw out his usual line about his nickname. And later, during his tour of Tommy’s station, it hadn’t really registered for Buck until they were halfway through that the other man had exclusively referred to him as Evan. It felt too late to correct him by the time he’d noticed.

And besides, he’d realized – much later – how much he liked the sound of Evan coming out of Tommy’s mouth.

Neither of them were big on pet names. Tommy would throw out the occasional sweetheart, which always made Buck melt a little inside, but it wasn’t a regular thing. Buck sometimes went for baby in intimate moments – babe, with what Tommy called “a tone,” if he was being a bit of a brat – but it was often as much for comedic effect as anything else.

They mostly just stuck to names. For Evan, the novelty of murmuring Tommy as he kissed his boyfriend’s Adam’s apple or his stubbly cheek or down the line of his happy trail never seemed to wear off. The masculine body under his hands and lips. The masculine name on his tongue.

He asked Tommy, once, after explaining his own weirdly complicated history with his name – and his parents, and his dead brother, and his long unwitting search for an identity – why he went by Tommy, not Tom or Thomas.

“I guess it sounds a little juvenile, doesn’t it?” Tommy said. “For a guy in his forties.”

“I mean, I don’t think so,” Buck said. “I think – I don’t know, I think it fits you. Like, I’ve heard other people call you Tom, but if I called you Tom, I feel like that’s a different person, almost. Someone I don’t even know.”

“I feel the same way about Buck,” Tommy admitted. “Hen says it, I don’t even blink. I know it’s you. But if I say it? It’s like, who is that.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy shifted a little on the couch. Plucked at his jeans, wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulders and then immediately shifted again so he could run his fingers through Buck’s hair.

“I’ve told you a little about my dad,” he said eventually. “About how we don’t… get along. Never did, really, even when I was just a kid.” He paused, for long enough that Buck looked up enquiringly, only to see Tommy staring off into the middle distance.

“But I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that I was named after him,” Tommy continued eventually.

“Wait, really?”

“Really. I am technically a junior. Thomas Edward Kinard, Jr. He actually wanted my birth certificate to say “the second,” but my mom put her foot down.”

“Wow. I had… no idea.”

“I stopped using the junior a year or two into my stint in the service. Dropped it completely when I came out to Los Angeles. Changed my driver’s license and just… didn’t put it on the paperwork. I’m sure that won’t come back to bite me in the ass someday.”

Tommy laughed, short and sarcastic, and Buck frowned. He’d only heard that laugh a couple of times, but he didn’t like it. He wormed his way out from beneath Tommy’s arm so he could take one of his broad hands between his own, petting over hairy knuckles and a calloused palm.

“Have you ever thought about changing it? Choosing something new?” he asked hesitantly.

“No. Never. He took enough from me, over the years,” Tommy said harshly. “He doesn’t get to take my name, too, even if it did come from him. Besides, it pisses him off enough that I went by Tommy past the age of sixteen. Changing my name would feel like… would feel like giving in.”

“I get that,” Buck said thoughtfully.

He squeezed Tommy’s hand one more time, then put it aside and climbed carefully into his boyfriend’s lap. Tommy let out a soft grunt of surprise as Buck wound his arms around his neck and tipped his face up for a kiss.

Buck obliged him. “Well, for what it’s worth,” he said softly, lips brushing against Tommy’s, “I love your name. I love how it sounds when I say it. Tommy,” he murmured, and Tommy swallowed hard. “It fits you. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s you. And I – I love you. So I love your name.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said those words, but it was still new enough that they tasted fresh and exciting.

“I love you, too,” Tommy said quietly. “Evan,” he said, and kissed him again.

this was supposed to be something fun and silly based on this post but then it developed emotions and that's why it's a day late.

[kozmicxblues]

Sorry but opening the episode with the Bachelor and the flight attendant — “Do you believe in love at first flight.”

Cutting to Buck and Tommy at the hangar, Tommy offering to give him flying lessons. They literally met on a helicopter.

[miriellesandthegiantpeach]

Re-Do | Bucktommy

Buck and Tommy are standing just inside Harbor’s helicopter hangar. There’s a duffle bag in Tommy’s hand and Buck is looking pensively at the chopper waiting for Tommy. It feels eerily similar to standing outside the LAX terminal saying goodbye to Abby all those years ago. Even though Buck knows that Tommy isn’t leaving indefinitely; it’s just a special deployment to Vegas because there’s a wildfire that’s gotten out of hand. Two weeks tops, then I'll be back, you won’t even have time to miss me. Tommy said to Buck as they drove to the station.

“Baby? Did you hear me?” Tommy asks and Buck comes back to the present turning to Tommy.

“Huh? Sorry, I was lost in thought-” Buck sighs.

“Clearly,” Tommy laughs and grabs Buck’s hand. “I should be going, I’ll be home in no time, okay? Thanks for driving me.”

Dropping his shoulders in a slouch, Buck breathes out, “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He pulls Tommy in close by the hand to kiss him soundly. “Come back to me,” Buck whispers against Tommy’s lips.

“Always, baby.” Tommy smiles at his boyfriend and understands his worries - Buck is used to being left, but he also knows not to bring attention to it. “I’ll call when I land, okay?” Buck nods, there’s still tension in his brow. “Hey, I love you. Miss you already,” Tommy says and presses one more hard kiss to Buck’s lips.

“Love you too, be safe,” Buck smiles and Tommy makes his way to the chopper, his hand staying connected to Tommy’s as long as possible.

Stuck in horrendous LA rush hour traffic, Buck gets a call from Tommy just over an hour after leaving him at Harbor. “Hey, babe. You landed already? That was fast. I’m still stuck on the 5.”

“Oh yeah, the perks of having access to a helicopter. Just touched down at the Vegas airport. That giant LED sphere thing freaks me out. It has a face on it and its eyes followed my helicopter as I flew by. Did you see the picture I sent?” Buck sneaks a peek at his phone and sees a picture of the giant dome on the strip from Tommy’s point of view, and sure enough the eyes of the face were looking straight up at Tommy’s chopper.

“It knew you were flying and wanted to get a good look at the hot pilot,” Buck laughs and Tommy scoffs.

“I don’t like it,” Tommy says, totally deadpan. “Huh? Yeah, my boyfriend,” Tommy says to someone else and it still makes Buck’s heart flutter hearing the designation coming from Tommy so casually. “Garcia says hi,” Tommy turns his attention back to Buck. “I’ll text later, just letting you know I landed safely, don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I will,” Buck says, putting on a whiney voice. “Talk soon, baby.” He hangs up the phone with Tommy and feels lighter.

Tommy was right, Buck didn’t have time to miss him between work and taking up Maddie on babysitting requests. Also Tommy is in constant communication with him; they text more often than when Tommy’s home. Tommy texts him updates on containment of the fire and silly selfies and Buck will send pictures of him and Jee doing various things like tea parties or coloring.

Ten days in, Buck is at the station fresh off the phone with Tommy. “How’s that Vegas fire?” Bobby asks.

“It’s about 70% contained so they’ll be releasing the out of state firefighters first," Buck says, unable to contain his giddy smile.

Buck is still looking down at his phone so he doesn’t catch Bobby’s knowing smile. Tommy called Bobby about two hours ago saying he’s on his way back and wants to surprise Buck at the station so don’t tell him.

Bobby checks his phone, seeing a message from Tommy that he’s five minutes away.

Still here, Bobby texts back, willing the alarm not to go off. They’re all up in the kitchen relaxing. When the five minutes pass Bobby goes to the railing and looks down and sees Tommy walk into the open garage. He immediately spots Bobby and gives him a two fingered salute.

“Hey, Buck seems like you have a visitor,” Bobby shouts over to Buck standing at the sink. Buck perks up and jogs over next to Bobby and honest to god gasps when he sees Tommy downstairs. He flies down the stairs, taking them two at a time like he can’t get to Tommy fast enough. “Oh my god, you’re here! I thought you’d said at least one more day!” Tommy catches Buck in his arms and stumbles a few steps with the momentum.

“Well you said come back to you, so I asked to be released early and they let me go,” Tommy says laughing into Buck’s neck.

The smell and feel of Tommy’s arms locked around him makes Buck feel at home, feel more grounded. With an arm locked around Tommy’s neck, Buck kisses him a little less chaste than probably appropriate for being at work, but he hasn’t kissed Tommy in ten days and needs to make up for lost time.

They break apart and Buck rubs his nose against Tommy’s smiling until his cheeks hurt. “Come up upstairs, everyone’s here, at least until the next call,” Buck says and pulls Tommy up the stairs by the hand.

Tommy settles on a barstool at the kitchen island and tells everyone about the job in Vegas; recounts all the exciting bits with enthusiasm. All the while one arm securely wrapped around Buck’s waist and gesturing with the other. Buck’s eyes never leave Tommy and his smile never falters, asking questions that spark more details and exciting moments of the trip.

“It’s been almost nine months and they still look like they're in the honeymoon phase,” Hen notes to Chim.

“That’s what happens when you find your person. Trust me I’m sure I look like that with Maddie and you look at Karen like that too,” Chim remarks. He discreetly snaps a candid photo of them and sends it to Maddie. Guess who’s back early, he texts the photo to Maddie.

***

Buck’s sits heavily on the couch- today was a long day to say the least. A call came in at 3am, on his 21st hour of his shift and as he was lowering himself down on a rope he slipped and grabbed the rope at the exact wrong time, dislocating his right shoulder. He screamed out in the white hot flash of pain and fell until the harness caught him. They used one of the ambulances to transport him to the emergency room.

Two hours later Tommy escorts him from the car into his house and onto the couch. Buck’s arm is in a sling and even with the pain meds the pain still radiates from his shoulder. Buck groans and leans his head back on the couch, just another injury that will put him out of work. His mind flashbacks to his whole leg in a cast and him being couch-ridden as Ali told him she can’t handle the risk his job comes with.

As he’s spiraling Tommy comes into the living room with a mug of hot tea for Buck. “Pain that bad, baby? You look miserable right now. I thought they gave you a good dose before we left.”

Realizing that his face is being way too loud at the moment, Buck softens his brow and opens his eyes. “Oh no, it’s dulled pretty good, I was just thinking about- you know what it’s dumb. Forget it,” he sighs and drags a hand down his face. Tommy sets the tea down and sits next to Evan on the couch, lining up their legs.

“Hey, whatever it is, it’s not dumb. However big or small, I wanna know what’s going on,” Tommy says to him and waits patiently for whatever Evan is willing to divulge.

”I- uh. It’s just, remember Ali? I was with her when the ladder truck fell on my leg, scared the shit out of her apparently and the day I got home from the hospital she broke up with me. She couldn’t handle the stress and worry that comes with the job,” Buck explains. He reaches for the tea just to keep his attention on something other than Tommy for a moment.

“I see. And I’m guessing this situation reminds you of that?” Tommy asks and Buck nods minutely. “Well, I hope you know I’m not going anywhere. I hate to see you hurt of course, but the nice thing is I know exactly what the risks are. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dislocated something.” Buck finally meets Tommy’s eyes and sees a ghost of a smile on his lips. Something about Tommy’s unwavering steadiness and calm washes away any doubt Buck has.

Three days later Tommy catches Buck rubbing at the unkept beard coming in on his jaw. He wraps around Buck and quietly asks, “getting a little scruffy, I kind of like actually.” Buck laughs at that and reaches for his electric razor. The weight feels awkward in his left hand.

“It gets itchy like this,” Buck notes and frowns at the razor. Tommy releases him and opens the medicine cabinet and takes out a regular metal razor and shaving cream.

“Let me,” he says and maneuvers Buck so he’s turned around and leaning against the sink. Tommy spreads the foam gently and meticulously along Buck’s jaw, mouth, and chin. “The old fashioned way- always gets a closer shave,” Tommy says barely above a whisper.

There’s something so intimate about Tommy shaving him. Maybe it’s the way Tommy’s thumb and forefinger holding his chin, or the way his eyes are zeroed in on the path of the razor scraping down Buck’s cheek, or the way his eyes flick to Buck’s and causes him to smile or wink. It’s a simple act that makes Buck feel so precious in Tommy’s hands. Maybe he can stand the sling for a little while longer.

***

”Fuck him, Fuck him,” Buck spits out as he paces around Tommy’s kitchen. “That motherfucker thinks he’s above human decency!”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Tommy says calmly despite the rising anger in his chest. He’s never surprised now about Gerrard’s new slight, but wishes he could shield Buck and 118 from that.

“It isn’t anything that can be reported really, it’s all the microaggressions, all his fucking snide ass comments. It just gets under my skin and makes me hate work,” Buck sits heavily at the island and groans into his hands. “I feel like he singles me out because he knows you and I are together. All these homophobic-adjacent comments, like he wants to rile me up and just UGH. Fuck him.”

Tommy hates Gerrard, but even more hates that he’s making his boyfriend miserable. An idea comes to him.

“I‘ll talk to the fire chief, remind him why Gerrard got transferred out of the 118 in the first place,” Tommy suggests. Buck looks up in a panic.

“No-no, that’ll only make things worse, you know how long these complaints take to actually make a difference. Once Gerrard gets wind of the complaints, he’ll get even worse,” Buck rushes out.

“Babe, if there’s a way I could help I want to, I can’t just stand on the sidelines while he’s making your life hell,” Tommy tries.

Buck stands and walks to the other side of the counter and smooths his hands along Tommy’s shoulders, seeing the tension release. They’re silent for a few minutes, searching each other’s eyes, trying their best to communicate all their worries and needs.

“Don’t,” Buck says with finality. Tommy huffs and presses his mouth into a thin line. “I know you want to fix this, but I don’t want you involved with him. Again. So, I’m asking you to keep this here.”

“Okay,” Tommy says with a nod and a squeeze to Buck’s waist. Buck thanks him with a kiss to the nose.

A week or so later Buck walks through the door exhausted and irritable. He’s making it a regular habit of going straight to Tommy’s after work because he needs the comfort of his boyfriend.

Tommy envelopes him in a tight hug, “I can guess, but how was work?”

“Shitty is the new normal. Gerrard will never change and I have to just get through it. At least everyone else hates him too,” Buck mumbles into the soft fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt.

“Ah yes, nothing like strengthening a bond by the power of collective disdain,” Tommy replies scratching down Buck’s back making him hum in response.

Buck realizes that nothing has changed since his last rant about Gerrard to Tommy and leans back to look at Tommy’s face inquisitively.

“Nothing’s changed,” Buck says. “You didn’t do anything.” At first Tommy’s confused but he remembers the conversation they had.

“I didn’t. You asked me not to. Did you think I’d go behind your back?”

You asked me not to. Like it was simple, like Tommy didn’t need clarification or a deeper reason. Just because he asked Tommy not to do something, he didn’t.

“I-I, I’m just surprised I guess? So many people think they know what’s best for me and go around me to do what they think is right despite what I’ve said.” Buck looks shocked but pleased. Tommy just smiles at him,

“I can’t speak for everyone, Evan, but I trust you. You know what you’re doing. Yes I always want to help and be there for you, but I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. And I love you very much because of that.” Tommy pecks Buck’s lips.

“And I love you for listening and taking my word for it,” Buck grins, knowing that with Tommy he’s on equal ground. The irritation of the day is completely melted away and forgotten. Buck slides his hands up Tommy’s chest and shoulders to clasp his hands around the back of his neck.

”Now do you wanna listen to what I’m thinking about doing to you to let off some steam?” Buck quirks his left eyebrow and bites his lip, knowing Tommy’s eyes will follow.

Tommy leans in and noses along the jut of Buck’s jaw and says into his ear, “all ears, baby.”