Avid reader/writer. Prone to binge watching and non-stop talking about books/series. Can fall in love with simply one line of a book/song/movie. Love the English language. Owner of a never-ending TBR and to be watched lists.
au where tommy did drive by the loft post break up like a pining dork and buck caught him doing it
I don't know why but this gave me the hardest time for no real reason. But I figured it out and now you get some schmaltz.
--
1. Buck was running late for the fourth day in a row. It wasn’t that he overslept—if anything he was up and out of the bed before the alarm went off—but that he was having trouble seeing the point of getting out the door. All he did now was go to work, go the store, go home, bake, repeat. It wasn’t the most exciting life, not withstanding the bit where job was to literally run into fires, but it was his, even if somewhere across space and time he could feel twenty-six year old Buck screaming.
“It was supposed to be better than this,” Buck mumbled, the giant tote bag filled with containers of cookies bouncing off his hip. He wanted to experiment with the different flavored chip combinations he had gone to four different of stores to find, and so he made a triple batch of the base dough. Even after pawning off a bunch on the students in the apartment below, he still had a lot left over. Chim and Hen refused to take more and he could only send so many care packages to Texas before Eddie would stop taking them, but the newest probie was always hungry and would go through a dozen throughout the shift. Munoz would take some, given her sweet tooth, and Jeffords would grab some for their kid.
A thought intruded: Buck could send some over to Harbor. They’d be a hit there. Tommy used to complain about the sad state of their snack cupboard.
Maybe it was that thought that had him turning his head at the flash of blue in the corner of his eye. He caught a glimpse of the back of a truck just as it turned the corner. It’d been too quick to tell, but that had looked like—
His phone alarm went off. Buck swore and ran for the Jeep. He was late.
2. His leg ached like a son of a bitch, and all Buck wanted was his heating pad, his bed, and someone in it to hold him and gently scratch his head until he felt better. Well, two out of three wasn’t bad. He was full on limping as he made it up from the garage to the main entrance and so distracted by the pain that it took him a good ten seconds to recognize the truck slowly driving past.
“Tommy?” he said.
The truck sped up as the light changed.
Buck ran. He made it three steps before his leg almost buckled. The truck was gone.
3. “Have you considered,” Chimney said, head tipped back and eyes closed as the engine crept through afternoon traffic, “that there is perhaps another weirdo in this vast city we call home who also has an aversion to buying a car made this century?”
“His truck is from 1998,” Buck said, turning his phone around in his hands. The only reason no one had tried to take it from him was because Eddie, a victim of the call involving college students and a comically unwise amount of jello shots, was sitting next to him in a shirt covered in vomit. The smell was keeping everyone at bay.
Chim cracked open an eye. “That's nearly thirty years ago.”
“And not the takeaway,” Hen added.
“He hates new trucks,” Buck said, which was probably also not the takeaway, judging by the side eye Hen shot him. “He thinks they're vanity projects for men insecure in their masculinity.”
“He liked mine. He even did a tune up on it.” Eddie pinched his shirt between finger and thumb and held it away from his body. Two different students had vomited on him in under a minute. “How do we not have a spare shirt in the kit?”
“He didn't like your truck," Buck said, absently. “He almost didn't take you to Vegas when you pulled up in it.”
“I should have taken you instead," Tommy had said as he finished checking the Jeep’s fluids. He closed the hood and gave it an affectionate pat. “You keep her in good shape.”
Buck had no choice but to shove Tommy against the hood and climb him like a tree.
“Well, now I'm glad none of us hang out with him anymore,” Eddie said.
“We're here,” Bobby said loudly before Buck could do more than furrow his brow. “Eddie, go shower and get changed. Everyone else, let's make sure we're ready for another call and then go grab something to eat.”
Buck ran through the equipment checklist with Ravi, who headed upstairs to get lunch. Before he could follow, Bobby waved him over to the front of the bay and said, "How are you doing, kid?"
Buck briefly considered playing dumb and giving a run down on the check he just performed, but he was a long way out from being twenty-six and Bobby wouldn't have let him get away with it back then, either.
“Is this about the truck?" Buck said, fumbling his phone back out of the pocket. “Because I took a picture yesterday, and you can see most of the license plate.”
It had been late afternoon and Buck was on his way back from possibly the most depressing hang he and Eddie ever had: Eddie missing his son and Buck missing his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Then in the late afternoon light, there was the truck,driving slowly past his building. Buck had taken a quick picture and then took off down the sidewalk, trying to wave Tommy down. Tommy must have seen him because he sped up and ran a yellow light and was gone.
Buck had the text thread open all night, but Tommy never bubbled. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong.
“You're having a hard time with this breakup,” Bobby said after a long, thoughtful look. “You weren't like this over Taylor.”
“It was pretty clear by the end that Taylor and I wanted different things. It was different with Tommy.” He sniffed, miserable. “I saw something there. I thought we were making it together.”
“Oh, kid,” Bobby said like Buck was breaking his heart. “Come here.”
It’d been some time since he had a Bobby hug, but it was as warm and loving as always. Maybe he didn’t get to have someone, not like how Bobby had Athena and how Maddie had Chim, how he thought he had Tommy, but he still got this: Bobby, who loved him better than a father could.
“If he’s driving by your place,” Bobby said, “maybe he saw something there, too.”
“Do you think I should call him?” he asked, hopeful.
“Come to dinner,” Bobby said, which was its own answer. “I’m making a braised short rib. The kids will be there. Bring a dessert. With the way Harry puts it away, bring several desserts. We’ll have an old fashioned family dinner.”
“I’ve been experimenting with a fruit tart,” Buck said, surreptitiously swiping at his eyes. “And a chocolate ganache.”
Bobby lovingly shook him by the back of the neck. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Always am,” Buck said, and slipped away to stow his phone in the locker. He was sick of looking at it.
4. His favorite thing about the loft, the main reason he let Ali talk him into taking it besides that it would be a nice place to have sex in, was the balcony. He never lived in a place with a real balcony before. That shoebox apartment in Poughkeepise had a little eve he could climb out on and then the slightly larger shoebox in Virginia Beach had a fire escape he snuck onto with a cold beer at night when the heat downgraded from murderous to merely oppressive.
But this was a whole balcony he outfitted with a table and chairs with deep cushions and even an ottoman he picked up at an estate sale. There was something so adult about spending a morning out on the balcony having a leisurely breakfast of his latest attempt at croissants and the cold brew he made himself, looking out over LA.
Tommy had liked the balcony and the view even if he hated the rest of the loft. He’d been very polite about it, admiring the clean modern lines. “You’re making me feel like a pack rat,” he’d joked. “Maybe I should give minimalism a shot.”
“I like your place,” Buck had protested. Tommy’s house was so perfectly him, filled with books and DVDs and old VHS tapes and weird little figurines lining the shelves. “I used to move around a lot when I was a younger. I got in the habit of not keeping a lot of stuff.” He’d studied the loft with new eyes. It was less clean and modern and more bare. “Where did you get those little wood figures? Maybe I should start a collection.”
“I’ll send you the link,” Tommy had said, but of course he hadn’t. They’d broken up and now the only personal touch was the containers of flours and the brownies cooling on a rack.
Buck finished off his cold brew and moved to the railing, arms propped on it. Down below, as if just waiting for him to notice, was Tommy’s Superman blue truck. Looked like he got the spot out front again.
He pulled out his phone and thumbed over to the text thread. The bubble appeared. The bubble disappeared. The bubble appeared.
What the hell. You only lived once.
You can come up, Buck texted, making sure to use proper punctuation because Tommy was a nerd that way.
The bubble disappeared. Tommy pulled out of spot and took off.
Well, at least he knew now.
5. Eddie dropped him off in front of the building, and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me? We can have an adult sleepover.”
Buck raised his eyebrows.
“Platonic!” Eddie yelped. “Adult platonic sleepover.”
“That’s worse. You sound like a—” The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat. Maddie had nearly been killed by that joke.
“Buck,” Eddie said.
“We’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours,” he said, dredging up a smile. “I’m gonna go get some sleep. You should also do that. You still have to finish packing.”
Eddie sighed, the exhaustion and Buck winning. “All right, but call me if—hell, I don’t know. Just call if you need to.”
“Sure thing,” said Buck, who was absolutely not going to do that. He shut the door and knocked twice against the window, giving the all clear, and Eddie pulled back onto the road.
Parked across the street was a Superman blue truck from 1998.
Buck broke into a run. A giant vanity truck laid on the horn because Tommy was right and every owner was an asshole. He waved a hand in apology, skidded between two terribly parked SUVs and rapped frantically on the passenger side window.
Tommy’s shoulders jerked up around his ears. The keys were in the ignition. Tommy’s grip tightened and then fell away, and he leaned over to open the door.
“You won’t text me but you’ll park outside my apartment?” Buck demanded, clambering inside. The seat was pulled up, and he had to shove it all the way back so his legs would fit.
“Hello, Evan,” Tommy said with an achingly brave little smile. “This seemed the less depressing option.”
“How?”
Tommy sighed. “It made sense in my head.” And then his gaze sharpened, and Buck was uncomfortably aware of his two day old scruff and greasy hair and the old hoodie that was desperately in need of a wash after the long day. Tommy’s voice gentled. “Hey, are you okay?”
Buck opened his mouth, the words ready to pour out in an unstoppable tragic deluge of this fucking awful day, and he knew exactly what would happen: Tommy would listen, eyebrows rising first with incredulity and then with horror, and he would walk Buck up to his apartment and make sure he got some food in him and, if Buck was extra pathetic, would sit with him until he nodded off because Tommy took care of him but never let Buck return the favor. No, that was a lie. Buck never bothered to see past the cool pilot veneer to the sweet man underneath who wanted to be taken care of. It was time for a change.
“It was a scary day,” he said, “but everything is okay now. How are you?”
There was that smile again, only sadder now. “I’m good, Evan.”
It might have worked before, but Buck was paying attention now. Tommy was tired and lonely and a little scared.
“I don’t think you are,” Buck said, being so, so careful. “Do you want to come up and tell me about it?”
Tommy’s hand was on the key. Buck waited. Please, god, please.
Tommy pulled it from the ignition and said, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
They got out of the truck and went inside, together.
+1. Parking on Tommy’s street was a nightmare. Between the student house on the corner and the Thompsons’ endless dinner parties, there was never an open spot he could squeeze the Jeep into. He begun his fourth circuit when Tommy called.
“You circle the block one more time and Helen from next door is going to call the cops,” Tommy said, amused.
“Tell her it’s the Thompsons’ fault,” Buck said. “What’s the normal number of dinner parties to have a week? It can’t be five. That’s way too many.”
“I think it’s called having friends.”
“We have friends, but we don’t invite them over every night.” He paused in front of the fire hydrant. “I’m a firefighter. I’ve got special dispensation to park in front of a hydrant, right?”
“Or,” Tommy said slowly, “you can park in my driveway like a normal, not insane person.”
Buck’s throat went die and his palms began to sweat. Please don’t let him fuck this up.
“I didn’t want to trap you if you needed to get out.” He winced. “Or, uh, assume.”
“Honey,” Tommy said, slow and sweet and only mild condescending. “Park in the driveway.”
“Okay,” Buck said. “See you soon.”
He pulled in and to the side, just in case Tommy needed to make a quick escape from his own house. Tommy was waiting on the front porch, bare foot and handsome and his eyebrows raised in a bitchy little arc. Buck loved him so much.
“Don’t start,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Which of us spent months driving past where the other lived instead of just texting like a normal, not insane person?”
“And which of us almost brought back Covid flour shortages instead of texting?” Tommy shot back.
“Me,” Buck said happily.
“And me.” Tommy slid a hand along the back of his neck and reeled him into a kiss. “Come on. Dinner is almost ready.”
Buck took his boyfriend’s hand and followed him inside.
“She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”
How about one where Tommy is also in Texas helping out with the wildfire (during the crossover) and Buck just happens to meet him there for the first time, and he's maybe, slightly mad that Hen and Chim never introduced them before.
always. i’ll probably do these until tumblr shuts down.
okay let’s go!
1. When they land in Texas, Hen mentions there are other LA firehouses there. Buck heard her but pretty immediately forgets it. They get paired up with the 126, Judd and Eddie bond, Hen and Strand are getting along, Matteo keeps trying to hang out with Buck, but Buck kind of feels on the outside, until he’s rescued by TK from the runaway car. That seems to break something down and suddenly he's chatting and laughing with him and the rest of the 126.
2. When they get back to camp for dinner — or what passes as dinner, but Buck’s just glad it’s edible — when someone calls out Hen’s name. Eddie and Buck turn around immediately, watching as Hen breaks into a smile and hugs a talk man whose just unfolded himself from one of the mess hall chairs. Hen quickly introduces them to Tommy, who used to work with her and Chim and Bobby, and Tommy explains that his station sent ground and air crew. He's grounded for the next twelve hours. Hen tells him where their tent is, and he promises to stop by later with the rest of his crew.
3. That night they hang out with the 126 and Tommy's crew from Harbour; they tell the Austin crew about the Doheny park fire and water drop, and Tommy and Melton regale them with stories of their other rescues. Buck’s a little pissed the story they've decided to share features him falling off a broken ladder, but he has to admit the Harbour crew have some wild stories. When they've separated and gone back to their respective tents, Buck asks Hen why they've never met Tommy before. Hen shrugs, says Tommy's fairly private. Eddie teases him about wanting to join ditch the 118 for the skies.
4. When Hen and Strand go missing the next day, Buck and TK still try to steal a fire truck, but they're stopped by Judd, Eddie, and Tommy, who is twirling his own set of keys. “Dare to dream a little bigger, darlings,” he quips. Buck figures he should probably know what that's from.
Buck and TK decide they're going with Tommy and surprisingly, no one tries to stop them. Tommy and Judd sync their watches, because they're dorks and the helicopter is probably going to alert people. Maybe they'll think it's an ordinary run, but probably not. Buck and TK hide in the shadows as Tommy ducks and runs to open the helicopter door ahead of them.
“If I weren't in a serious relationship I'd be in trouble right now,” TK mutters, staring at Tommy's ass as he runs. Buck privately agrees, then pushes that thought aside.
They do notice the helicopter taking off, but none of the other pilots are crazy enough to fly after them in this weather. They're able to guide their ground crew to the downed helicopter, staying in the air to search for clues. Once they spot the jackets, Tommy lands them to help dig the tunnel open.
5. There isn't room for Buck or TK in the helicopter on the way back, full as it is with Hen, Strand and the other pilot. They squeeze themselves back into the engine, where TK and Marjan spend the rest of the ride back talking about how hot Tommy is.
Eddie and Judd are up front and Buck sits silently in the back, trying to ignore the conversation even as Mateo jumps in too. He catches Paul watching him and adverts his gaze to look out the window.
When they get back, Paul pulls Buck aside to ask if he's going to have a problem with Tommy, because Paul will deal with that if he has to but he doesn't want to. Buck flushes and stumbles through saying something about feeling awkward because it was someone he knew that they were talking about, not because Tommy may or may not like men. Paul looks at him carefully, then nods and walks away.
He makes a point of finding Tommy to say thank you and make sure he's been updated on Hen’s condition. They just got the news at camp that the fire is under control, and they're all going to be sent home. Tommy and Melton are flying back; Tommy shakes his hand firmly and says he hopes he gets to see Buck again in LA. Buck offers up his phone number so they can make sure they see each other.
TK appears behind Buck when Tommy leaves. “Man, I thought you were hitting on me earlier and I thought I was going to have to let you down easy.” He gives Buck a brief but firm hug. “Good luck with the pilot.”
“What was that about?” Eddie asked, having seen the hug but not heard what TK said.
“I'm… not sure,” Buck says slowly.
+1. Buck finds TK’s instagram through Marjan’s a couple months later so he can send him a message. It’s just a selfie of him and Tommy, their curls wild in the wind as Buck kisses Tommy’s cheek.
I love that Paige learnt vocabulary, fairytales, and the rules of chess from Arcturus, and in return taught him sarcasm, pickpocketing, how to make a molotov cocktail, and the various ways to cheat at cards. they are the definition of “I can fix her” boyfriend and “I can make him worse” girlfriend
Soft tagging @blockcat-safari, @jackdraw-spwrite, @cityofangeisislying, @audioeidolon, @venusplantt, @bardicc-inspo and @voidindite in case they would like to play along :)
(Feel free to jump in if this looks fun and I forgot to tag you!)
Tagz: @alighttoburnalltheempires @capetown-devotee @numberoneff-fan @h3rsh1esdah1st0r1e5 @lewisfairlytreated @marceline-urfavweapon @r0cketbabyd0lls @yousemasoulalai i wonder what u guys get hehe ^^
I thought of another prompt but felt like you'd do it justice instead of open-posting it.
5 (or more) facts from an AU where...sometime prior to S7, Buck is looking for a new activity to do in his off hours, and ends up taking Muay Thai lessons from one Tommy Kinard.
(Is Tommy at Harbor teaching occasionally on his days off? Not a firefighter anymore? Secret third option?)
Chemmyyyyy 🥺🥹
This one's long and set just after 6x12.
1. Buck gets cleared by Dr. Salazar, and he asks if he should take it easy on exercise. "No, just be aware of your body," she says. "If it needs a break, give it one. And maybe switch things up a little, see if that helps." "What do you do?" he asks. "Kickboxing," she says, smiling. "Hell of a lot cheaper than a flight to Rome." So he leaves her office, he goes to the park by the building, he looks at it eventually and feels his breath get stolen out of his lungs with fear and dread. He tries to start processing. After he talks to Maddie, he goes home and pulls up kickboxing videos. It seems cool. He knows Eddie does Muay Thai, which seems similar. So he looks that up and finds a gym that does martial arts stuff exclusively, resolving to go the next day. He asks Maddie to cancel any visits for the middle of the day, and she tells him the roster is cleared for now. Unless he stops texting back, then it's back in full force. He smiles and shakes his head, dropping his phone on the couch and sighing as he looks up at the ceiling and lets himself nod off a little.
2. The gym isn't too busy. The guy who greets him is nice enough, if a little...massive. Like the dude's got the thickest neck Buck has ever seen. While Buck tells him he was looking for a class or something to learn Muay Thai or something like it, the guy grins and says, "You know, I might know a guy. Here, c'mon." He leads Buck to a punching bag, and a broad guy is wailing on it. "Hey, Tommy," the gym employee says. "You still training folks?" And Tommy stops hitting the bag and starts to say, "Jer, I don't--" And then he stops and sees Buck and looks between him and 'Jer.' "Uh, yeah. Sometimes." Tommy's sweaty and a little red, but he's got killer bone structure--a cleft like some old painting--and nice eyes. "Then I'll leave you to it," Jer says, slapping Buck on the back way too hard before walking away. Tommy pulls the gloves off his hands and grabs a towel, wiping them and then his face off before draping it over his shoulder and sticking out his hand. "I'm Tommy," he says. "Uh, Evan. Buck," Buck replies, shaking his hand a little too long.
3. Tommy isn't a trainer, not normally. He'd taught a class a couple times a month, but his schedule isn't consistent enough for that. Too many bad wildfire seasons. "I'm a firefighter," he explains. "No shit? Me, too," Buck says, grinning. "Where at?" And Tommy's a pilot, and Buck has seen the crazy shit that the chopper pilots do, how they'll fly blindly into smoke to do drops. It's terrifying. "What about you?" Tommy asks. "I'm at the 118," Buck says, and Tommy's brows shoot up. "Yeah, I know. Cursed house." "No, it's just--that was my station for years," Tommy says, smiling. "I left about six years ago." "I started six years ago," Buck says, and they grin at each other. "Well, I'm happy to train you," Tommy says. They set up a time to meet, and Buck tells him he's off work for another couple weeks anyway. "Medical thing," he says, shrugging. "But my doctor cleared me for exercise." He doesn't say what it is, because it's still too big to talk about with someone who doesn't already know about it.
4. They decide to do three sessions a week. Buck initially only wanted to do one to try, but then talking to Tommy made him think he might want to do more. He's pretty sure he should be paying a lot of money for it, but Tommy says he doesn't need it and Buck should save it for someone worthwhile. He's already paying for the new gym membership anyway. Tommy doesn't take it easy on him, but he's not mean. He's encouraging, he's direct, and Buck likes making him laugh. He doesn't tell anyone about the training sessions. He knows Eddie would ask why he didn't just ask him, he knows everyone else would want to know why he wants to learn to fight, and he knows that Chim, Hen, and Bobby would want to know how Tommy's doing. This feels like it's just for him. He kind of needs that right now.
5. After about three weeks, the gym is going to be closed for a couple days to fix a plumbing issue in the locker room. "Know another gym we can go to?" Buck asks. "Uh, sort of," Tommy says, scratching his neck. "I'll text you the address." When Buck pulls up to a house, he's pretty sure he's at the wrong place until the garage door opens and reveals Tommy. There's also a classic car of some kind that's half taken apart and some training stuff in the corner. "Nice place," Buck comments. "Thanks," Tommy says, holding up a pair of gloves. "You can use mine." Tommy patiently helps him with knee strikes, because the leaning back part is hard to balance. "It's because you've got the longest legs I've ever seen," Tommy teases gently, reaching out to lift Buck's knee a little higher while he presses one hand to his back. "Find the balance in your heel." And Buck wobbles a little, but he doesn't know if it's because of the position he's in or what.
6. After they finish, Tommy offers him juice that he made himself. It's good. "I keep a couple bottles at a time," he explains. "My ex was really into juice cleanses, so I bought a power juicer thing for my place. Kept it after we broke up." "Lucky you," Buck says, looking at the car like he knows what he's really looking at. It's some kind of Chevy, at least. "Pretty sure all I ever got was heartbreak. Well, a loft, I guess." "I mean, that's better than a juicer," Tommy points out, smiling. "I actually started doing Muay Thai because of an ex. He did it competitively. I used to wrestle in high school, but that was it." Buck's fingers flex on his glass. He. "I wrestled, too, for a couple years," he says, turning to look at Tommy. He's leaning against a workbench. "That why you wanted to do this?" Tommy asks, nodding toward the discarded training equipment. "Uh, no," Buck says, flushing. "No, I did this because I need to renew my passport, so I couldn't go to Italy." And Tommy hesitates before downing the last of his juice and setting his glass down. "Yeah, I'm not following," he admits, crossing his arms over his chest. Buck leans on the workbench next to him. And he tells him about the lightning.
7. Tommy just listens. And then Buck asks him if he's ever almost died. "Couple times," Tommy says, smiling a little. "Actually, Chimney's the reason I didn't once." He tells Buck about the explosion. He lifts his shirt and shows him the scar. Buck traces his fingers around it, because it looks like leaves. When Tommy's skin shivers under his touch, he draws his hand back. "I didn't get to see the Lichtenberg figures," Buck says. "The, uh, scars you get from lightning. It faded by the time I woke up. They go away in a few days. I was in the coma too long. I've got other scars, but it's weird that the thing that killed me didn't leave one, right?" "I don't have a scar from the other time," Tommy says. "And that one's the time that really almost got me." He tells Buck about his chopper getting shot out of the sky in Iraq, about having to bail out in a lake and nearly drowning. "I'm only alive because a civilian dragged me out of the water and gave me CPR," he says, shrugging. "I'm glad they did," Buck says. "Me, too," Tommy says. "I didn't used to be, not all the time. And I wondered what it all meant, what I was supposed to do with my life." "What did you do?" Buck asks. "Became a firefighter, stayed closeted, there were baby steps," Tommy says. And Buck bumps his shoulder with a smile. "Guess this is one of mine," he says, smiling.
8. Buck comes to the next session at Tommy's house, because the gym is still closed after the minor issue at the gym turned into the entire locker room flooding. They spar a little, and Buck can tell Tommy is going slower for his sake. "You don't have to," he protests. "I do, actually," Tommy says. "I'm not letting you win, I'm just not trying to either. If I was, you'd be on your back." And Buck feels his skin prickle in a really confusing way at that as his pops his guard back in. He gets a few kicks in, even if Tommy gets twice as many. When they're done, Buck is sweating profusely and feels his heart slamming in his chest. He rubs at it and winces. "Okay?" Tommy asks, and he nods. "I know it's fine, just feels weird," he admits. "You ever do yoga?" Tommy asks. "A little," Buck says. "Why?" "Because we're going to do some." He turns on some music, and he takes Buck through a series of easier yoga poses. The kind for relaxation and stretching rather than strength. "You're really flexible," Buck observes. "That's what all the guys tell me," Tommy says, his eyes closed. "Sorry." "N-no, it's fine," Buck says, even though he's wondering what else the guys tell him.
9. There's a fight in Vegas, and Tommy's going. He knows a guy who can get him seats. Good ones. "If you're interested," Tommy says. And Buck is, he could even get the time off, but he needs to see what plane tickets are looking like. "Evan, I've got access to a helicopter," Tommy says, smiling. "Don't worry about it." So Buck rides in a helicopter and goes to Vegas and realizes a couple of things: he's suddenly very, very good at math and he's pretty sure he might want to kiss Tommy. He figures both out somewhere over the Nevada desert when he sees Tommy grinning in the sunlight. The math thing is when Tommy gives a hypothetical calculation he'd have to do while flying, because apparently pilots are math nerds, and Buck blurts out the answer. "I'd take you to the blackjack tables, but I don't want us getting banned from the casino," Tommy says after throwing a few more equations at him.
10. Buck also learns that MMA is a little too brutal for him sometimes. It's cool to watch, but he winces a lot. He also thinks about Eddie and the fight club thing. After about an hour, Tommy leans over and says they're going to head out if Buck is okay with it, and Buck is more than okay with it. Outside, Buck asks if Tommy's okay. "Yeah, but one of the next guys is kind of known for being a little...much," Tommy says. "I didn't want you to have to see that." "Sorry," Buck says, feeling like he's fucked up their night. "Please don't be," Tommy says, smiling. "Sometimes it's a little much for me, too. I usually force myself to stick it out, but this was a good excuse not to." They meander up the strip to the hotel Tommy had brought them to. He gets the room cheap, apparently. "So you just know a guy for everything?" Buck teases. "A little, actually," Tommy says, laughing. They stop for the fountains, and Buck keeps glancing over at Tommy and watching how the light flashes over his face. When Tommy looks over at him, Buck blushes and almost apologizes for he doesn't know what as he looks down, and Tommy reaches over and tips his chin up again and kisses him.
11. Buck does go to a couple of tables and wins a few grand. He's feeling lucky. Plus, math superpowers. Tommy's there to pull him away before it gets too suspicious, and Buck kisses him by the blackjack tables and offers to take him somewhere nice. "As a date?" Tommy asks, and answering that question almost feels like trying to face the building again. Right up until he nods, then Tommy's grin eases the anxiety.
12. Maddie threatens to bring out the roster again because she can't get in touch with him on his days off anymore. So Buck has to cop to what's been going on. "You're dating a Muay Thai instructor?" she asks. "Well, it's not his regular job, he was just helping me," he says without thinking to obfuscate the pronouns, and her eyebrows shoot up. "Uh."
13. Buck tells Bobby after Maddie, and then he tells everyone else. "Wait, Tommy's gay?" Chimney says. "Since when?" "Birth, dumbass," Hen says flatly.
14. The first time they have an actual sparring session, Buck doesn't win. It's not even close. But it's fun, and Tommy's proud of him for doing as well as he does. "Up against most people, you'd win," he says. "Oh, so you're just that good?" Buck teases. "Uh, yeah," Tommy replies, like it's obvious. So Buck fights one of the other guys who's been coming into the gym a little longer than him, and he does actually win. Eddie comes by one day now that he's not (jokingly) feeling like Buck stepped out on him by going to someone else for his Muay Thai needs, and Buck doesn't do great against him. But Tommy does. "You're dating the fucking Terminator, dude," Eddie pants after, trying to catch his breath as he holds his ribs. And then Buck finds out Tommy has a perfect Arnold impression, which is just about the best thing ever.
15. Buck feels stronger now. He knows that being able to fight wouldn't have saved him from the lightning strike, he knows that he still would've been down for three minutes. But he also knows he can hold his own for three minutes in a ring with his boyfriend. He can die for three minutes, but he can also fight for three minutes.
16. Then the overpass collapse happens and Tommy flies in without being asked. "Hey, man," Chimney croaks as Buck and Tommy load him onto a basket to get lifted to the hospital. "Nice ride." "Yeah, it's new, got it on a lease," Tommy says, checking the straps before getting on the radio. "The package is secure. Bring him up, Tai." The basket gets lifted, and Tommy and Buck watch until he's pulled into the chopper. Tommy grabs the line connecting him to the chopper and pulls Buck into an action hero kiss. "See you Saturday?" he asks with a bright grin. "See you Saturday," Buck confirms, grinning back. "Better stretch first, don't want you getting hurt while I throw you around," Tommy teases before nudging Buck back. He gets brought back up to the chopper. "You guys sparring again?" Eddie asks, leaning heavily on a crushed truck nearby. "Nope," Buck says cheerfully. "I shouldn't have asked," Eddie decides.
For the 5 facts au prompt: canon-based Time Traveller's Wife. Tommy is unstuck in time.
This is funny because way back when I first joined the fandom in 2024, I started writing a time traveler's husband au where Buck was the one who got unstuck in time. Maybe I'll do a wip amnesty post of it one day.
If I had planned this better and had a better sense of the inevitable passage of time, I would have posted this on you birthday. But I don't and I didn't. So belated happy birthday, my beloved rc. I hope you enjoy time traveling Tommy.
1. Of course Buck only learned about it after they broke up. God forbid Tommy share a single detail about his life. God forbid Buck notice how little he know about Tommy’s life. God forbid they try to fix it.
There was someone waiting on his front steps. Buck knew that silhouette, that nose, that build. He about fell out of the truck, bag full of the overrun muffins Chimney refused to take bouncing against his leg.
“Tommy,” he said.
Tommy lifted his head. It was all wrong.
If this was Tommy then it was a Tommy missing twenty years. He had the height but none of the muscles, so lean and thin that Buck might actually have a shot at winning a Muay Thai match. His face was sharp and made sharper by his buzzed hair, even sharper than the few photos Chim dug up from when Tommy was a probie. His ears were pierced, and he couldn’t be older than twenty.
“Oh,” Tommy said, grinning so wide that his nose, still the same, scrunched, “I’m so glad it’s you.”
2. Twenty year old Tommy ate the muffins, most of a chocolate pumpkin loaf—“I really like pumpkin," Tommy had said like it was a secret, as if Buck didn't already know—and was on his second piece of lasagna. Buck remembered being that young and perpetually hungry, and he hadn’t been trying to get survive a tour of Afghanistan.
“So you're unstuck in time," he said when Tommy came up from air.
“It doesn't happen a lot. I just slip.” Tommy shoved another forkful of lasagna in his mouth. “This is really good.”
“It’s one of your favorites,” Buck said. When they were dating, Tommy had been so quietly thrilled to eat Bobby's cooking again that Buck collected the few recipes Bobby hadn't already shared. He paused. “Wait, should I be telling you that?”
“You can’t cause a time paradox,” Tommy said, scooping up another huge forkful. “What happens is gonna happen, no matter how hard you wish it didn't.”
The last part was said in a tone Buck knew well: Tommy was trying to pretend he wasn’t bleeding hurt everywhere.
“But I’ve never tried,” Buck said. “I bet I could do it. I’m a firefighter. We help people.”
In the twenty years between this Tommy and Buck’s Tommy, Tommy had perfected his inoffensivelu bland mask. This Tommy was still learning and wore it poorly, and what slipped through broke Buck’s heart.
“You won’t have to put up with me for long,” Tommy said, a subject so obvious it nearly made Buck laugh. “I usually snap back in an hour or so.”
“What’s the longest you ever been unstuck?” he asked.
Tommy diverted his entire attention to scooping up the last of the lasagna. “Most of day, once.” He smiled, such a small and tender thing. “It was nice.”
Buck knew better than to ask where Tommy spent that day, and instead said, “Can you take anything back with you? I can load you up with loaves.”
Tommy regretfully shook his head; the only thing he could take was himself. Buck better feed him while he was there. He reached for the brownies.
An hour later when he went to pull out the chocolate chip cookies he was saving for Jee, displaced air sent his ears popping. When he turned around, Tommy was gone.
3. Buck spent the new week drafting texts to Tommy he never sent:
you were a string bean back in the day
why didn’t you tell me
what does it feel like being unstuck
how long have you known me
In the end, he sent none of them. If Tommy wanted him to know then Buck would know. He was tired of giving Tommy chances to tell him.
4. Buck was halfway home when he saw a Tommy walking down the sidewalk, head down and missing his shoes. Buck cut across a lane of traffic, ignoring the angry car horns, and rolled down the window. “Need a lift?” he called.
Tommy’s head jerked around and he said, hopeful and soft, “Evan?”
Buck reached across to fumble the door open. “Get in.”
Tommy climbed in with a wince. His feet were lightly abraded rather than torn up, although Buck wished they had time to take him for a tetanus shot. This was a slightly older Tommy, late twenties rather than early twenties, his hair grown out enough he could brush it into a mohawk. His ears were pierced.
Buck reached into the back and pulled out a container of leftover french toast casserole. “It’s not exactly warm anymore but you’re welcome to it. Oh, wait.” Another rummage unearthed his travel utensils, and he passed those over.
“Thanks,” said Tommy, and wasted no time in digging in. “Fuck, this is so good. I spent my entire tour in Afghanistan thinking about that lasagna. Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“My captain taught me,” Evan said as he carefully pulled back out into traffic and carefully did not think that Tommy had known that the entire time they were together. “He’s, uh, really good.”
Tommy twitched. “Captain?”
“Firefighter captain. I’m a firefighter, remember?” Buck glanced over to invite Tommy in on the joke. “I would not have made in the army.”
Tommy’s gaze darted away and then back again. Buck used to think Tommy was simply avoidant, but he knew better now; he was shy. “You wouldn’t have.” Tommy said it like that was a good thing.
Buck cleared his throat. “I like the earrings.”
“My dad would hate them.” Now Tommy’s was inviting him in on the joke. “It’s why I got them.”
“That’s the same reason I once bought a motorcycle,” Buck said, and was so pleased by the way Tommy smiled. “Hey, do me a favor and finish that. I don’t want to deal with the leftovers.”
By the time he pulled into the driveway, Tommy was gone and Buck was left with an empty container.
5. He limped out of the 118. It had been a long, grueling shift and Buck was very worried that if Chimney made one more joke at his expense he might actually let loose and pop him one. What a fucking awful feeling. Was this how Eddie spent his days, skin so small he had to work to keep from scratching it off? He could almost see the appeal of a secret fight club.
There was someone standing by his truck. Buck’s stomach curled up small and scared. It was Tommy dressed in that black tank top and button up shirt, his date outfit from their anniversary.
“Tommy,” Evan said.
“Jesus Christ,” Tommy said, eyes red and wet, voice hoarse like the tears had scoured his throat. Tommy had only just started to cry when he opened the door and stepped out of the loft. “Why is it always you?”
“I don’t know,” Buck said, body betraying him by locking down. “Why is it always you?”
“I wish I fucking knew,” Tommy said, and was gone.
6. Buck was so furious that he had to take fifteen minutes to calm himself down before it was safe to drive, which meant he got stuck in the morning rush hour., and that meant he was in a truly foul mood when he got home and saw a kid sitting on the giant tire in his background. Most of the neighborhood kids—who called him Mr. Buckley and made him feel so unbelievably old—had gotten used to cutting through the yard when the house was empty. Most days Buck was happy enough to remind them it wasn’t safe, especially when he wasn’t around, and unloading some cookies or brownies or a loaf or two for their parents.
But this wasn’t most days. He threw open the back door and snapped, “You can’t be here.”
The kid scrubbed the hoodie cuff over his face. “I’m not doing anything,” the kid said, mustering a defiant glare. He couldn’t be older than thirteen. “I don’t even want to be here.”
“That makes two of us,” Buck muttered. There was something about the way the kid was dressed—beat up sneakers, baggy pants, baggy hoodie—that softened his irritation. He had only the passing knowledge of what kids thought was cool, and that only came from the few times he saw Denny, but the clothes were off. Old, maybe.
And then the kid lifted his head, and there was no mistaking that nose or that chin, even if they were now on a face still round with baby fat.
“Tommy,” he said.
Tommy popped up, gaze darting around the yard. There were no visible bruises, but Tommy was holding himself so careful and still, the same way Buck had after the bombing and the tsunami and the lightning strike; Tommy was hurt.
“You know me?” Tommy asked, sour wariness seeping from him.
“Yeah, I do. I’m Evan.” That wasn’t strictly true, but he could no more explain they were ex-boyfriends to thirteen year old Tommy than he could to twenty year old Tommy. “I’m Evan.”
Tommy impossibly grew more suspicious. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“Well, I’m guessing you got unstuck again,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
Hunger beat wariness, and Tommy sat at the island and ate everything Buck put in front of him. Buck remembered being that young and hungry all the time, but he got the feeling his parents provided a lot more regular meals than Tommy’s did.
“Do I show up a lot?” Tommy asked after polishing off a second slice of french silk pie. Good to know Tommy always had a terrible sweet tooth.
“More lately,” Buck said.
Tommy sighed a sigh much too heavy for someone who hadn’t hit his first big growth spurt. “Sorry about that.”
Oh, so Tommy could break his heart more than once.
“Hey, I’m not.” He waited until Tommy looked at him. “I like hanging out with you.”
Tommy ducked his head too slow to hide his smile.
I’m gonna love the hell out of you one day, Buck thought, but said, “So what do you want to do while you’re here?”
What Tommy wanted to do was play Pokemon—like the very first Pokemon game—but his Gameboy, an old black and white one his friend Ellis gave him when he got a colored one, was back in 1998. Lucky for him, Chris wasn’t too cool for Pokemon yet, and Buck had picked up the latest Switch game.
“This is gonna blow your mind,” he said, and Tommy’s mind was blown.
They played Pokemon and Buck made them lunch and then dinner. As night crept in, Tommy’s face went pinched and tight.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Buck said, digging out his phone. This was the longest Tommy had hung around. Maybe some cellular degradation was happening, like in that one animated Spiderman movie Chris made him watch. This wasn’t the way he wanted to talk to Tommy, his Tommy, again, but he might be the only one who could help.
“I’m supposed to go back.” Tommy set his baby soft jaw. “I want to stay here.”
There went his heart again.
“I know,” Buck said. “It’s going to be okay.”
Tommy shook his head wildly, hands balled up into fists on his thighs. “It’s not. You don’t know what it’s like.”
Buck ducked his head and met Tommy’s gaze. “I do. It’s going to be hard for a little longer, but you’re get out and it gets better. It gets good.”
“You promise?” Tommy asked, desperate and hopeful and so achingly trusting.
“I promise,” Buck said, and his ears popped as air rushed into the void Tommy left behind.
7. why didn’t you tell me, he texted Tommy.
The bubble appeared. The bubble disappeared.
Buck threw his phone across the room.
8. It was suffocatingly hot, and Buck kicked one leg free from the covers and rolled over into the lee of Tommy’s body. That’s why he was burning up; Tommy was his own personal heater.
“Hot,” he muttered, draping himself along Tommy’s side. “Your fault.”
He had mostly dropped off again when Tommy, so lightly he barely felt it, brushed knuckled along his shoulder and then down his spine. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He burrowed closer, sighing happily when Tommy hesitantly touched the curling hair at the nape of his neck. “I still like you.”
“I like you,” Tommy said, hushed and quiet like it was a secret, but Buck was already asleep.
He woke up with the sheets neatly tucked around him, last night’s dream already slipping away.
9. Buck frantically tugged at the duct tape. He was not going to die in this desert. Eddie was not going to die in this desert. He was going to get free and he was going to find Eddie and they were going home. They were—they were—the tape didn’t give and a howl clawed at his throat.
“Evan.”
Buck blinked. There was Tommy crouched before him, but this was a Tommy he’d never seen before. This Tommy was at least twenty years older, hair gone completely white, those beautiful laugh lines now dug deep and permanent, skin spotted and thinner, jawline softened with age, that cleft still just as devastating.
“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, the fever burning up all this thoughts. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Tommy said. Even his voice was older, still with that bitchy lilt, but softened the same way his jaw had softened.
“Wait,” he said as Tommy pulled out a pen knife. “You gotta leave me. They’re gonna kill Eddie. You have to save him.”
“Sweetheart,” Tommy said, “we both know there is absolutely no timeline where I leave you here. Hold still.”
Tommy sawed through the tape. Buck was free, and Tommy helped him to his feet.
“I gotta get to Eddie,” Buck said, swaying.
Tommy gently cupped his cheek. His eyes were still so blue. “I know.”
Buck forced himself away and out into the harsh light. He had to save Eddie. They had to live. Tommy was wearing a wedding ring.
10. Buck woke in the hospital to Tommy holding his hand. His body was muffled and far away; maybe he left it back in Derek’s room.
“Hey, honey,” Tommy said, his smile creating even more breathtaking lines and furrows. “You’re safe now.”
“Safe,” Buck repeated. He touched Tommy’s wedding ring. “Can I?”
“Of course,” Tommy said softly.
It took two tries but Buck slid the ring down over the knuckle. There was a band of pale skin where the ring had sat. Tommy had been wearing it for a very long time.
“Is it me?” he asked, only for remorse to sour his mouth. “Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” He didn’t know what would hurt more, if Tommy married him or if he hadn’t.
“I won’t,” Tommy said, sliding his ring back into place and gathering Buck’s hand in between his wrinkled ones.
“You’re so old,” Buck said, too tired and hurt to keep the tears away. “You got to grow old.”
Tommy leaned forward like he was sharing a secret. “Someone told me it was going to get good. Turns out he was right. He’s a pretty smart guy.”
“Not that smart,” Buck said, wishing he could move over and Tommy could lay beside him. “I let you get away.”
Tommy laughed at that, and then pressed an apologetic kiss to Buck’s knuckles. “You’ll also find that funny when you get to be my age.”
Oh. They could grow old together.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Did you think I would leave? Is that why you left?”
His Tommy carried sadness like an old friend, but it sat poorly on this Tommy, like he had so much happiness in his life he forgot what it was like to be anything else. “I couldn’t believe it was you when I saw you at Harbor,” Tommy said, cradling their joined hands to his chest. “I’d been waiting years to find you and then there you were. But you didn’t know me. We were out of sync.” Tommy paused to press another kiss to his hand, his knuckles, his palm. “You were this beautiful, kind man who always made sure I had enough to eat and who stayed with me. I was already half in love with you and you didn’t know who I was, even after six months. That’s why I left.”
“You asshole,” he said, furious. “That’s not fair. You could have tried. You could still try.”
“I know,” Tommy said with all the infuriating knowledge of twenty years that Buck didn’t have. “Would you believe me if I tell you it gets better?”
“No. Tell me anyway.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Tommy said, so tender that it hurt. “It gets so fucking good.”
He was crying now. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you, too.” Tommy sweetly thumbed away the tears. “When you see me next, ask me why I keep going to you.”
“Okay,” he said, and tucked Tommy’s hand to his cheek. “Can you stay? Just for a little while.”
“Of course.” Tommy kissed the corner of his mouth, and Buck would give up just about anything if it meant he got to keep that. “I’ll stay.”
Buck held his hand until he fell asleep.
10. Tommy answered the door in bare feet and slung low sweatpants, hair tangled in great tufts, and Buck knew what he looked like at thirteen and twenty and sixty-five. He was beautiful.
“Why do you always find me when you get unstuck?” Buck asked.
Tommy sighed. There was the sadness that he always carried, but there was hope, too. “Because,” Tommy said, “you make me feel safe.”
I’m gonna love the hell out of you, Buck vowed, for as long as you’ll have me. But he said, “Can I come in?”
Tommy stepped back and held the door open.
11. Buck finished weeding their small vegetable patch and stood with a wince. Another year, he promised himself, and then Nichols would be ready to take over as captain and he could join Tommy in retirement.
“For someone who wanted a victory garden,” Buck called as he entered the kitchen, taking care that his gloves didn’t snag on his wedding ring as he tugged them off, “you sure do weasel out of taking care of it.”
There was no sarcastic retort how Buck had been the one to draft literal plans. His ears popped from displaced air.
His husband leaned against the island, looking like he hadn’t slept all night. Tommy was older now, they both were, and even if he no longer carried the same muscle mass from his youth and even if his hair was thinning in the back and even if he was gaining new wrinkles every day, he was still the most beautiful man Buck had ever seen. Buck loved him endlessly.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“The same place I always am,” Tommy said with the smile that scrunched his nose and sent Buck’s heart tripping. “I was with you.”
