“What more do you want- a booboo kiss?!”
thank you for this lovely prompt @acesartemis. It took me a moment to get it right, but I love how it turned out ☺️
“What more do you want- a booboo kiss?!”
They both freeze at Tommy’s words.
The last few months of tentatively trying to rebuild their places in each other’s lives—as friends, as people who want to stop ignoring that they mean something—has been going well. They go out with friends, they text, they hang out in open spaces where they can’t just fall into bed together and ignore things.
Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t want more. If he continued to claim he wasn’t dating because it’s not on his radar right now. He’s pretty sure everyone knows it’s because he’s already spoken for.
Buck’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, he meets Tommy’s gaze with a confidence he doesn’t actually have. “W- well, it probably wouldn’t hurt.”
“Evan.” Tommy’s voice is cautious. The yellow line you’re supposed to stand behind on the train platform. A warning not to step over.
He knows he’s playing with fire, but that’s why he’s a great firefighter, isn’t it? Because he knows what to do with things that burn.
Tommy steps closer, takes Buck’s bandaged finger, and holds it up close to his face. Without looking away, Tommy presses a kiss to the fingertip. It’s barely more than a brush of lips, but it may as well be a live wire.
“No.” Simple and honest, because now that he allowed himself this one transgression he wants more.
Tommy turns Buck’s hand in his own, brings it to rest on Tommy’s cheek. He angles his head to press another kiss to the inside of Buck’s wrist, allowing it to linger.
“And now?” Tommy’s looking up at him from under his lashes.
“I think, actually, when I shut that cabinet, I might have hit my head.” He points to his temple. “Here.”
“Hmm, that won’t do.” Tommy drops Buck’s hand in favor of cradling Buck’s face between his massive palms. He leans in, hovering just over where Buck had pointed. “You sure?”
“Mmhmm. Yeah, there. It’s really been bothering me.” His eyelids flutter closed as Tommy kisses his birthmark instead.
“Maybe- maybe one more.” He taps his bottom lip. “Here.”
“I wouldn’t want to miss anywhere. Can’t be too careful with these things.” Tommy’s breath fans across his skin, faint hints of the strawberry pale ale lingering from earlier.
Finally, finally their lips meet and Buck’s every nerve ending sings with it. He chases Tommy’s mouth when it feels like he’s pulling away, greedy and desperate, like a man starving. His arms wrap around Tommy’s back, fists clutching at fabric.
Eventually they do have to break apart for air, but hold onto each other. Buck can’t risk letting go, not yet.
“How was that?” Tommy asks, still panting slightly. “Better?”
Buck pulls him in for another kiss, this one slower and more tender, but no less meaningful. When they separate, he rests their foreheads together.
“Yeah,” Buck confirms quietly. “The best.”
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