tommykinard

[tommykinard]

tommy kinard's outfit formulas (insp)

[tommykinard]

9-1-1 Buck wearing suits | for @epiphainie

[tommykinard]

9-1-1, 8x01 Buzzkill // 9-1-1: Lone Star, 2x09 Saving Grace

[tommykinard]

tommy tommy tommy

[tommykinard]

Can we talk about the fact that Thomas Kinard is a 6'2" tall beefy hot pilot firefighter who goes around by the name Tommy.

He's so incredibly cute.

[tommykinard]

Bucktommy | Be Be Your Love by Rachael Yamagata

[tommykinard]

fic: and how do you stay? (post-8x11 coda)

pairings: madney, bucktommy rating: M; word count: 4.9k; status: complete tags: maddie pov; character study; (not-so-distant) future fic; established bucktommy; underlying biphobia notes: inspired by this post from @queermccoy; refers to some 8x14-15 speculation (possible hostage situation)

Summary:

Tommy stays; things between Buck and Maddie are never the same.

Excerpt:

Maddie thinks there's something hollow in Tommy's smile, and something frantic like someone spinning too many plates. He's always watching, thinking, calculating, and then he puts on an adoring, beautiful smile for Buck. Sometimes their eyes meet and he smiles at her, too—trying too hard and watching her, too, like he's trying to figure her out.

[tommykinard]

TAYLOR KELLY 5.14 ― “Dumb Luck”

[tommykinard]

Blood pounds in Buck's ears along with the sound of his frenzied footfalls echoing around the stairwell, but it's not nearly loud enough to drown out his spiralling thoughts, the thrum of helicopter blades picking up speed, of explosions and gunshots and every single thing that could possibly go wrong before this day from hell is over. He's pretty sure the only reason he's not having a full-blown panic attack right now is because he doesn't have either the time or the oxygen to spare.

Please, God, don't let him be too late.

He bursts out onto the rooftop with enough force that the door bounces back against the wall and slams behind him, and Buck can't tell if the spotting in his vision is from the sudden blinding sunlight or because he's forgotten to breathe in what feels like hours. But it doesn't matter. The helicopter is still there on the helipad, blades motionless, and there's a familiar silhouette walking towards it.

"Tommy!" Buck scrambles closer, before he can reach the helicopter and escape, again, before Buck has chance to explain, to fix things. He's too far away. Even at Buck's breakneck speed he won't reach Tommy before he reaches the helipad. "Tommy!"

The figure stills, and turns.

Buck stumbles to a halt in front of him.

In the golden light of the setting sun Tommy looks gorgeous — and wary, and torn, and Buck's every impulse is screaming at him to take Tommy's face in his hands and kiss all that pain away. But he bites it back. He's let his impulsiveness take over too many times when it comes to Tommy; it's time to be deliberate. If he doesn't get the words out now…

Tommy's head turns towards the helicopter waiting for him, the responsibilities, the reminder that the world is bigger than the two of them as much as Buck wishes right now it could be otherwise. He looks back to Buck, pleading. "Evan—"

"I know," says Buck. Each breath feels like a knife between his ribs, but he forces himself to take one, to shape what he's needed to say to Tommy for far too long. "Just — please, just give me a second to say this before you go."

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches into a wry smile. It doesn't reach his eyes. "That's not a ringing endorsement of my chances," he quips, but if Buck lets himself think about Tommy's chances right now whatever force has been powering him through past the fear clawing up his throat and threatening to suffocate might finally up and leave him, so he shakes his head, shakes the words away somewhere they can't be heard, can't be made real.

"It hurt, what you said that morning," he says. "But that doesn't make it okay for me to hurt you back, and I'm so sorry I did."

Tommy nods, squares his shoulders like that's all Buck had to say before letting Tommy go. But it's not, not even close to all the words scrambling to make themselves heard, and Buck catches Tommy's wrist before he can turn away from him again.

"I just — did you really think I could've spent our entire relationship thinking about anybody but you?" The thought has churned through his mind enough times these last few weeks that the anger that comes along with it is less biting — less likely to make him say something he'll regret, hopefully — but it still flickers in his chest. He's been so goddamn gone for Tommy since the moment they met, how the hell could Tommy never see it?

The smile on Tommy's face is so sad, so defeated, that Buck wants to take him by the shoulders and shake him. "I know how this plays out, Evan," he says.

"But you don't!"

He forces himself to stop, let his emotions settle. It's not easy to think clearly around Tommy, never has been, between the lust and affection and hurt and now a healthy measure of bone-chilling terror that Buck might lose him completely, but he owes it to Tommy to try. Maybe he owes it to himself, too.

"When I said I didn't have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with, I didn't mean that I don't have feelings for you. I do. Tommy, I feel so much for you I don't know how I haven't burst from it all."

He watches Tommy's face for some sign of him shutting down again, that Buck isn't getting through to him. His jaw is clenched, tension still radiating from him like it's taking everything in him not to give in and run, to fight that wounded animal side to him that Buck was too blind to see before. But his eyes, glittering wet in the dying sunlight, are still fixed on Buck, and he's listening.

Maybe it won't change anything. But at least Tommy will know what he really means to Buck. Will know he's important, and loved, and deserving of so much more than he lets himself have. And that'll be enough.

"What I was trying to say was that I know what I'm doing. I know who I want to be with and who I don't. You know," he says, "everyone else keeps telling me what I want, like I'm too dumb to know it myself."

"That's not what I—"

"Don't," Buck cuts in, before Tommy can say it. He's on a roll now, and he's going to say his piece even if he has to strap himself into the cockpit beside Tommy and fly into God only knows what dangers to do it. "Right now I need you to listen when I tell you what I want."

There's something of surrender in the shrug of Tommy's shoulders, but he's smiling, as if even this version of Buck, frantic and sweat-soaked and angry, is still hopelessly endearing to him. "Okay," he says.

"I want you, Tommy. Only you. I want to wake up next to you in the morning. I want to listen to you talk about basketball even though we both know I only go to your pickup games 'cause you look so hot when you play, and I want to ramble about whatever stupid thing I learned that day that nobody else cares about and see you watching me the way you do, like you really wanna hear what I have to say, and know you're gonna remember months from now when I've forgotten it myself.

"I want you to feel like you can be yourself with me, and let me see that scared, lonely part of you you try so hard to keep hidden, and I want you to believe me when I tell you I'm in love with you, because I am. I love you so much, Tommy."

The tears in Tommy's eyes spill over, and Buck's pretty sure he's crying too at this point but he doesn't stop to scrub his cheeks, doesn't want to stop for all the world. The wind whips around them, sounds of traffic drifting up from the streets so far below, and there's people waiting for them, people who need them, but right now the only thing that matters is Tommy stood in front of him.

"And when you're ready, I want us to build a life together."

Tommy swallows. "I'd like that," he breathes.

The words are cracked and quiet, but he and Buck have gravitated so close towards each other by now they're stood practically chest to chest and the sound tucks itself between their bodies, there for Buck and Buck alone. He nods, and lets out a shaking breath.

"I'm gonna screw up," he says, giving Tommy one last chance to walk away before Buck gets his hopes up, as if it isn't already going to kill him if Tommy takes it. "I'm gonna say the absolute worst thing at the worst time and I'm gonna hurt you without even realising, but I swear to God, I will do everything I can to fix things if you'd just stick around and give me a chance. Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"How about with your heart?"

Tommy leans in, touches his forehead to Buck's. "You already have it," he says. They breathe deep, not kissing, barely even touching — just there, together, reaching for whatever comfort they can find in each other. "It feels like I've been terrified my whole life. I'm not sure I know how not to be. But I want to try, with you."

"I can work with that."

And finally, finally, they're kissing. Not the desperate, all-consuming kisses they'd shared last time, but something tender and honest in a way maybe neither of them have really been with each other before now. They stay close even after their mouths drift apart.

"I love you, too," Tommy says. "And I'm sorry as well. I was an idiot. You know," he adds, in that bone dry tone Buck has spent months thinking he'd never get to hear again, and Buck smiles at the sound of it, "I'm kind of a mess, Evan."

The laugh that bubbles up from Buck's chest feels like a tide washing over him. "I had noticed that, actually."

"Wait, you did?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"Damn."

"I don't mind getting messy," says Buck, serious again. "And, in case you hadn't noticed, there's plenty of issues over here too."

Tommy smiles back at him. "Maybe we can work on them together."

"Deal."

And like a spell's been broken, Tommy's radio crackles to life, thrusting them back into the world, into the uncertainty of what's to come, into the gnawing terror that regardless of how their conversation had gone there's still a chance this is the last time Buck ever sees the man he loves.

"Kinard, what's your status?" comes a voice over the radio.

"Go save the day," Buck says, a gentle nudge to Tommy's chest to get him moving before Buck can give in to the urge to pull him closer and refuse to let go. "Just promise me you'll come back."

"I'll try my damnedest. I've got a hell of a good reason to now." He presses another kiss to Buck's lips, and Buck tries not to think of it as goodbye. "They'll need you on the ground."

"As soon as you're airborne I'm gone."

Tommy nods. "Be safe."

"You too."

One last embrace — no, Buck tells himself, not the last, because there's a future waiting for them and they're both going to fight like hell to get to it — and Tommy's jogging towards the helipad. The sun's dipped beneath the horizon now, the clouds swept away for Tommy to take to the air, giving Buck a clear view to track his progress from the ground.

"Hey," he calls after Tommy. "What are you doing Saturday?"

Tommy turns back to him with a grin. "How about you let me know when I land?"

[tommykinard]

bucktommy kisses

[tommykinard]

LOU FERRIGNO JR as WESTON WADE OLD FLAMES NEVER DIE (2022)

[tommykinard]

tidbit tuesday

no one tagged me but I wanted to do this anyway

this is from the 8x11 bucktommy fic I've been working on. the working title is "that night" bc that's all this is. that night

Evan turns around from where he was facing the wall. Playful smirk, hand on his belt buckle invitingly. “It was. I’m, uh, I’m subletting.” Tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth like taking over Eddie’s lease is something cute and flirty.  No time to unpack that now. No time to unpack anything, apparently, given that everything Evan owns appears to still be in boxes haphazardly arranged around the house.  “Well, I love what you’ve done with it,” Tommy jokes as Evan stalks towards him.  “You want me to give you the tour?” Evan doesn’t take his eyes off of Tommy’s lips.  “Sure.” Tommy kisses him again and almost all thoughts of Eddie leave his head as soon as Evan gets his tongue back inside.  This time Tommy pushes Evan back, back, towards where he knows Eddie’s bedroom used to be. He tries to get Evan against the wall in the hallway but Evan pushes him back, laughing, panting, tearing at his own overshirt and then surging forward to do the same to Tommy’s when Tommy moves too slowly.  The energy from Evan is electric. Tommy forgot just how exciting sex with him is, how much it feels like playing. Tommy feels younger than he has in months: not forty but twenty-five again, and living as himself this time. God, the way Evan brings this out in Tommy, this youthful excitement. It’s a thrill Tommy only feels when he’s flying.  “I got it,” Tommy laughs, shrugging his black shirt off with less coordination than he’d like to display, but there’s no way to act cool when Evan looks like this, smells like this, has his hands on Tommy and his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a panting dog. Anything. Tommy would’ve done anything to have this again, and all he had to do was go to a bar alone.  He tries to push Evan backwards again and Evan goes, but he doesn’t give up control. He fists a hand in Tommy’s tank top and pulls him the rest of the way into the bedroom, cheeky smile firmly in place.  Tommy is in love. There’s no other word to describe the way his heart is beating in his chest right now, the way he wants to fall to his knees and throw himself on Evan’s mercy once more. God, what was he thinking? How could he ever have given this up? 

tagging: @bucksbignaturals @epiphainie @devirnis @rcmclachlan @cliophilyra and anyone else who wants to share anything!

[tommykinard]

the sniffle!!!

[tommykinard]

You deserve so much better. That's why I'm walking away.

Bonus:

[tommykinard]

Evan Buckley and his tongue 8x11 - Holy Mother of God

[tommykinard]

uncle buck 💖