buck having a crashout in the midst of a ptsd spiral, tommy swooping in like a white knight, and the 118 being forced to confront the fact that they kind of suck? this is nothing like me.
The dom stuff was easy, the dick stuff was not. Tommy was on his way and Buck had just taken his extra strong pain meds. He was probably stuck in traffic somewhere. If he was responsible enough to not check his phone while he drove, he would get sorely disappointed when he found a parking spot, so Buck waited. At least he could say sorry in person and offer a refund. Maybe that would ease the sting.
He lifted his head from his arms, when he heard the door open. Tommy closed the door behind him like usual. Buck waited for him to look.
”Hey.”
”Hey,” Tommy frowned. Buck wasn't sitting where he was supposed to.
”Listen, I'm really sorry. You came all this way, but I can't,” he gestured pointlessly. ”I can't do it tonight.”
”What's wrong?”
Buck sighed and looked at his thigh. ”I overdid it with the PT. I can barely move.”
Tommy came to the table and pulled out the chair beside him. ”Do you need help with anything?”
”No, no, don't worry about it.”
Tommy sat down anyway. ”Did you eat?”
Buck smiled a little. ”I have a whole crew of people coming through here every day. I'm taken care of, don't worry.” It had been a while since it was a daily thing, but Maddie had been by earlier, with food.
Tommy looked around the empty loft in what felt like a very pointed way.
Buck grabbed his phone from the table. ”I'll transfer the money back and-and we can do, like, a discount next time,” he said. ”If you want there to be a next time.”
Tommy plucked the phone from his hand and put it down, out of reach.
Buck hung his head. Shit. This was the part where the robbery happened. Or maybe assault.
”Do you need help?”
”With what?”
Tommy pointed up. ”That.”
Buck sighed. He'd been planning on sleeping on the couch. ”I'm fine, Tommy.”
Tommy considered him. ”Will it be gone in the morning?”
”Probably, yeah.”
Tommy stood up, got behind Buck's chair, grabbed the seat and pulled it backwards. It felt violent, but only because Buck wasn't expecting it. ”Am I carrying you or do you want to walk?”
”You wanna carry me up the stairs?”
”I want you to sleep in your bed. How you get there is up to you.”
It would hurt less if Tommy carried him, but Buck couldn't get himself to accept that level of help. Tommy got him up the stairs. Not for a second did Buck worry Tommy would let him fall.
Lying down was such a relief, he had to rub at his eyes and pretend he was tired. His whole body melted into the mattress.
”Do you need anything? Water? Meds?”
Buck patted the bed. ”Could you lie down for a minute?”
The bed rocked, as Tommy sat down. His shoes thumped onto the floor, as he took them off. Tommy carefully scooted up the bed and lied down beside him.
”Was it a long drive?”
”No, it was fine,” Tommy said quietly.
”I'm really sorry about this. I thought I could do it.”
”Don't be. It looks gnarly, I'm not surprised it hurts.”
It took a moment for Buck to remember what the fuck that meant. He chuckled. ”Gnarly.”
Tommy smiled. ”Looks recent.”
”It is.”
”How does that work with your job and everything?”
”My job?” Buck bit his tongue. Tommy didn't know what he did for a living. Oh, he thought Buck did sex work full time. ”No, no, I'm fine on that front. I do this for fun. I'm on leave from my real job.”
”Oh.” His brows dipped. ”You do sex work for fun?”
”Are you not having fun?”
Tommy giggled. ”Point taken.”
”Why are you doing this?”
As expected, Tommy shuttered a little. He'd been upfront in their first few texts, about not having been with a man before and wanting to change that, but that didn't answer why.
”You're a professional. I can do things with you I can't do with other people.”
”Like what?”
”Walk away without explanation. Ask for things other people wouldn't do.”
”What things?” Buck frowned.
”Do you know how lucky I would have to be, to pick up a stranger who'd let me look at their ball sack, no questions asked?”
Tommy had a point but, ”I liked that part.”
He went a little pink in the face. ”That just proves my point. You're the only one who'd do that, and you don't leave the house, not with that leg.”
”Anything else you need my expertise for?” The upper lip sweat was back. He poked Tommy in the arm. ”What is it?”
”I like what we do.”
”Which part? Come on, what part has you blushing like that?” Buck was about to roll on top of Tommy, when pain shot up his leg and into his hip. He made a deeply humiliating noise and tried to lie very, very still.
”Evan?”
Buck held up his hand, eyes closed tightly. When it felt safe to do so, he took a deep breath. Then one more. The pain was bad, but the fear was worse. Every time his ankle hurt a certain way, he felt trapped all over again. ”I'm OK.”
”Right.” Buck was about to lose his shit on a guy who had nothing to do with it, when Tommy grabbed his hand. ”Squeeze as hard as you can.”
”What?”
”Do it.”
Buck was so taken aback at the request, he did it without thinking. Suddenly, he was back in the present. Tommy's palm was rough and warm against his own. Before he knew it, he held on to Tommy's hand with both of his own, squeezing as hard as he could. He closed his eyes and held the tangle of their hands against his forehead.
”Fuck.”
”You're OK. Keep going.”
He laughed a little at the absurdity of the situation. He was losing it infront of a guy he'd fucked twice and barely knew.
His arms were shaking with it, when he stopped squeezing. He continued to hold on to Tommy's hand, as his breath rattled in his chest. ”I'm sorry.”
”No, you're not.”
”Shut up.”
”Yes, sir.”
Buck huffed. His eyes were wet. He moved their hands from his forehead to his chest. ”I was in an accident.”
”It sticks with you.”
”Yeah,” he breathed. Their fingers were tangled a bit awkwardly, but he could feel Tommy holding on to him. It felt odd, how calm he was. Buck had gotten used to his outbursts being met with a flurry of questions or platitudes.
He rolled his head and turned his head in Tommy's direction. The blush was gone, but Tommy wasn't. There was concern on his face, but not overwelmingly so. The look on his face didn't make Buck want to fall all over himself to reassure him he was fine, that it wasn't as bad as it looked.
Maybe Tommy had experience being a caretaker. Most people didn't handle situations like this one without some amount of panic.
”Broke my foot once,” Tommy said quietly. ”A very long time ago. Not being able to get around made me want to kill myself.” His eyes strayed to Buck's lower body. ”Can't begin to imagine what that feels like.”
The honesty almost felt violent. Everyone was constantly telling him he would get back on his feet, back to his job, everything would go back to normal.
”What'd you do?”
”Fell off the back of a truck.”
”In motion?”
”I don't recommend it,” Tommy said mildly.
”If our infrastructure wasn't so car centric, I'd like to never see a vehicle ever again.”
Tommy smiled. ”Tell me what you need, and I'll get out of your hair. You need to sleep.”
Buck gave him instructions before he went downstairs, but they still ended up yelling back and forth. Tommy brought him two bottles of water, his pill organiser, and one of his crutches. He also helped him to the bathroom, before he grabbed his shoes.
”You sure you don't need help with your clothes?”
It was the third time he asked, so Buck relented and let Tommy pulls his sweatpants off.
”Go home.”
Tommy did a little salute and grabbed his shoes again. ”Sleep it off.”
you're so thrilling and I'm so willing to care for you // T // 9-1-1 bucktommy // 2630 words // written for @letsdosciencetoit for the 9-1-1 Hiatus exchange
Summary:
Tommy Kinard has a beloved cat named Goose. He's intelligent, with a fluffy orange coat and a regal demeanor. He's also possessed by a spirit of malevolence who causes as much trouble as possible and hates everyone but Tommy.
So when he has to go for a visit to the vet's, it's no surprise that things get a little chaotic. Luckily, the new vet - a Dr. Evan Buckley - is there to see him. It doesn't hurt that he's used to troublesome pets, and it really doesn't hurt that he's one of the most handsome men Tommy has ever seen.
Excerpt:
An air of dark menace emanates from the passenger seat, outsized compared to the tiny creature it's coming from. Tommy sighs and shuts the door of his truck, winding around to the passenger side to pick up the carrier. The cat inside glares daggers at him as he lifts it off the seat. "Wanna calm down, buddy?" he asks. The cat, an older orange tabby named Goose, hisses at him in response. "You're already sick," Tommy murmurs down towards the carrier. "The least you can do is have some dignity about it."
Goose lets out a soft, ill-tempered myerrp from the depths of his carrier. A fluffy tail bats at the mesh door.
answering @leashybebes open call for wip wednesday.
just started this, got a rough idea of where it’s going.
-
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
Tommy pauses, reigns in the next line he had prepared that should be the final nail in the coffin of this relationship.
“What?”
“Did you seriously just try to break up with me by saying you want to be the last person I’m ever with?”
Tommy doesn’t answer right away. His thoughts backtrack through each step of this break up speech he started giving just moments ago. As far as breakups go, it’s the most up front he’s ever been. Even with Abby, he barely got the words “I’m gay” out before packing up his stuff and leaving.
You wouldn’t mean to but you’d end up breaking my heart. Yeah, that’s a pretty clear and logical reason to break up with someone, and he said the words, so he can’t be accused of not giving an explanation.
He opens his mouth to confirm Evan’s question, but Evan stands up instead.
“I want to go to the movies.”
-
will also leave this as an open call since I haven’t done this in a while and idk who still participates in these.
Just a little bucktommy/Buck does what's best for him/Tommy is the #1 Evan Buckley defender drabble for you on this Wednesday
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
Hey Tommy, sorry to bother you with this but any chance you've heard from Buck?
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
He told us he was still transferring and also taking a week off and now no one has heard from him in days.
Tommy looks at the text messages, coming in quick succession, and snorts harshly.
[TOMMY KINARD]
That sounds like a lot. Did you check his house?
Tommy knows they didn't check his house, because they have absolutely no clue what had been going on in Evan's life for at least a few weeks, probably closer to a month.
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
Uh. Well.
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
We kind of don't know where he moved to.
Tommy rolls his eyes, mutters "Jesus Christ, Chimney," under his breath.
[TOMMY KINARD]
You don't know where your own brother-in-law lives? Dude.
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
Come on man I just had a baby
[TOMMY KINARD]
I thought your wife had the baby
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
You're a comedian.
[TOMMY KINARD]
I'd say I'm here all week, but I'm actually on vacation.
[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message
Yeah, yeah, I'll take the hint and stop bothering you. Even though you have no sympathy for the fact that my wife is going to be very disappointed with me when she finds out I lost her brother and she's going to look at me in the way that makes me feel very sad and also guilty.
[TOMMY KINARD]
Well, if I see him I'll let you know. Good luck with all of that I guess.
Tommy chuckles again, the face pushed into his stomach bouncing a bit with it. Evan rolls, sleep-bright eyes blinking up at Tommy in confusion.
"Whatsit?" Evan mumbles, a hand coming up to wipe away at what is definitely drool in the corner of his mouth.
Evan had been napping with his head on Tommy's lap, spread out across the couch in the cabin they're borrowing from a friend of Tommy's for a weekend getaway. They'd spent the last three hours hiking (and maybe some of it making out against a tree) and Evan was still in a bit of a sleep deficit from trying to quickly get all of his stuff moved out of Eddie's house two days ago.
"Nothing, sweetheart," Tommy tells him warmly, his torso curling down towards Evan as he runs a hand through slightly sweaty but impossibly soft curls. "Just texting Chimney."
"Mmmok," Evan says, rolling back into Tommy's stomach and kicking a knee out to stretch farther down the couch. It accentuates his long, long legs which are currently wrapped in hiking shorts that are honestly just sinfully short and leggings; and Tommy is also maybe drooling a little. He's going to let Evan sleep for a little longer, knowing if he lets it go on too long Evan's sleep schedule will be ruined.
But also beacuase Tommy is more than happy to pick up where they left off against the tree; this time in the plush bed waiting for them, with enough time and sunlight leftover to then grill the steaks they had bought for dinner.
Tommy shakes himself out of the daydream that's going to end up disturbing the man impersonating sleeping beauty right over something that will give away exactly what's going through his head and looks at the text conversation again. He sighs. He doesn't think that Howie and the rest of the 118 deserve much right now, but he does sympathize with a woman who just had a baby and who has access to another woman who won't hesitate to launch a manhunt for his boyfriend.
He sighs and pulls up Maddie's phone number, but then thinks of something much funnier.
do you guys remember when buck had a boyfriend who would go to his sister's wedding after one terrible date, who would take care of him when he was injured, who would dress up with him to throw a two-man funeral for a hundred year old cowboy. because i do
Uh, s-so you said, before, um, that-that you don’t think I’m ready. And the truth is, I don’t know what I’m ready for. But I am ready for something. And-and I think maybe that something, could be with you. You already know that I’m interested.
“You’re drunk,” Tommy replied, clumsy fingers poking at Buck's cheeks.
“I’m tipsy, you’re drunk,” Buck replied, grabbing Tommy’s hands before he could get poked again. Tommy pulled their joined hands towards him and kissed Buck’s knuckles. “Okay, big guy, let’s get you to bed.”
“You’ll come too, right?” Tommy pouted.
“Well, yes, because it’s my bed too,” Buck laughed again. “You and Chim aren’t allowed to do shots anymore. We left you two alone for fifteen minutes.”
“It was so long,” Tommy whined. “I missed you.”
“Aw,” Buck said, steering Tommy around the hall table. “I'm sorry, babe. Hen and I were stuck in the karaoke line.”
“You did so good,” Tommy told him, turning towards Buck when he said so, lips brushing against his cheek as he spoke.
“Hen did good, I was her mediocre backup. If you think I’m good, it’s just because you’re just in love.”
“I am in love,” Tommy agreed, sitting heavily on the bed and smiling dopily up at Buck.
Buck cupped Tommy’s face gently in his hands and leaned down to kiss him, ignoring the lingering taste of the tequila shots on his tongue.
“Now get changed,” Buck said, moving to get their pajamas. He laughed when Tommy stripped off and threw his shirt at him, hitting Buck square in the chest.
Suddenly, a man was up in his face. ”Can I hug you?”
”Uh, sure,” Buck said.
The guy nearly knocked him off his feet. As Buck wrapped his arms around him, he hissed, ”Be my boyfriend.”
”What?”
”Guy behind me won't take a hint.”
”Hi, baby,” Buck said loudly. ”I couldn't find you! Have you been here long?” His boyfriend looked at him, seemingly taken aback by the theatrics.
”No, not long,” Boyfriend said and looked over his shoulder. ”This is… Sorry, I forgot your name?”
The other guy looked between them, held up his hands and turned on his heel.
Boyfriend breathed a sigh of relief and grimaced. ”Sorry about that.”
”Don't be,” Buck said easily. ”Not everyday you get a boyfriend.”
Boyfriend looked him up and down. ”You probably could, if you wanted.”
Buck felt his ears burn. ”Thanks.” He glanced around. ”Are you here by yourself?”
”I am. Bad move, it seems. Are you?”
”Oh, I'm with,” he pointed in the general direction of their table. ”Friends. Was gonna buy a round. If I get you one, will you help me carry them to the table?”
”Sure,” Boyfriend smiled.
Boyfriend orderd a fancy beer with a fancy pronounciation that Buck didn't quite catch. Together, they got the drinks safely to the table, where Buck made the introductions. ”This is Ravi and Eddie,” he pointed. ”And this is…”
”Tommy,” Boyfriend smiled.
”Tommy,” Buck said. Boyfriend fit him better. He looked at the drink in his hand. Maybe he should cut himself off. If he didn't, he was definitely going to forget the guy's name.
*
”Boyfriend!”
Boyfriend turned around, amusement clear on his face. ”What's up?”
”Give me your number! We should hang out sometime.”
Boyfriend shook his head, laughing, but closed the short distance between them. He held out his massive hand, silently asking for his phone. Buck patted his pocket and fished it out, handing it over. Suddenly, there was bright light in his face. He squinted. Then the light disappeared. Spots were dancing infront of his eyes, but he could still see Boyfriend. Oh. Face ID.
”Feel free to delete this when you're sober,” Boyfriend smiled and handed the phone back.
”I won't, but thanks,” Buck grinned. He closed one eye to see the screen better. He sent off a string of emojis, so Boyfriend had his number, too. ”It was really nice to meet you.” He stumbled forward and hugged Boyfriend goodbye.
”You, too,” he chuckled.
”Let me just,” Ravi said, appearing under his arm. ”I've got it. Nice to meet you, Tommy.”
Tommy.
Buck let Ravi and Eddie carry him home.
”Something you wanna tell us, Buck?” Eddie asked.
”What do you mean?”
Ravi rolled his eyes, loudly.
*
Bleary eyed, Buck checked for damages. Besides two made it home safe texts from Eddie and Ravi, there were no messages on any of his apps, from exes or worse.
Except a new thread with Boyfriend. Who the hell was Boyfriend? There was only one message, one from him to Boyfriend. A string of his most recently used emojis. Two of them were kissy faces.
I cannot stop smiling at this incredible art the uber talented @newtkelly created 🥹 this comes from a scene from my fic Pickle Theory and they captured it perfectly. Their expressions are everything to me 🥺
I wanna ask what would happen if Dana heard from a very drunk Tommy what Buck told him that disastrous morning and she bumps into Buck the next day
Like. I'm fascinated by her, she's intimidating and she likes Tommy and I keep thinking she is very possibly willing to rough Buck up for hurting one of hers
PQ, I think about this sort of thing CONSTANTLY. Here's 3k about it.
My favorite scenario takes place in the early days of S9—when everyone was still being shitty to Buck, pre-kidnapping/addiction/Theo—in which the Los Angeles fire academy hosts their own little firefighter games. Like, every year, two houses compete to show the incoming class how the pros do shit. They do an obstacle course, navigate a smoke-filled maze, run a glove and screw drill, fight an actual fire, and cap it all off with victim drag racing—all things the students have to master in order to pass. The 118 has participated maybe seven times and they're undefeated.
Of course, this year the 118 is invited to participate again AND CAN YOU GUESS WHICH OTHER HOUSE THEY'RE COMPETING AGAINST? GEE, I WONDER.
When Buck finds out they're competing against the 217, he's thrilled. He's going to see Tommy again! Once the competition's over, he can pull Tommy aside and 1) apologize for not reaching out after Bobby's funeral, 2) forgive him for walking out that morning, and 3) invite him out for coffee or ice cream or dinner or a light courthouse wedding. It's going to be great. He's going to win the game and then he's going to get the love of his life back in front of all his friends, Tommy's teammates, and all of LA's prospective probies. They're going to kiss to the sound of thunderous applause. Music will swell around them. They might even warrant a post on the LAFD's Insta.
He spends a stupid amount of time styling his hair the day of the competition and makes sure the turnouts he's wearing are an older set—a size too small, natch—and is giving off so much excited/nervous energy as they pull up to the academy that he practically has light coming off him. Ravi threatens to push him out of the truck onto the highway if he doesn't dial it back to a 7.
Finally they get there, and as they strut their way into the joint, Buck's excitement starts to flake away.
Because while he knows he lost the friendly acquaintances he'd made at Harbor in the divorce and that they were there to compete against each other, he figured the 217 would at least be professional about it.
Not a single person lifts a hand in greeting or does any friendly trash talking. They just stare at them in frigid silence.
As he passes a couple of people he vaguely recognizes, Buck overhears one of them snark, "Someone hide the keys to the helicopters."
"Jeez, tough crowd," Chimney mutters. "If a dancing red dot suddenly appears on my forehead, someone shove me out of the way. I've got two kids to put through college before I can kick the bucket."
"Yeah, I don't that red dot's gonna be on your forehead," Hen says, side-eyeing all the side eyes, which seem to be focused on one person.
Buck's shoulders slide up toward his ears, presenting a smaller target. He looks around frantically for broad shoulders or a crinkly-eyed smile or a familiar steadfast aura, but he doesn't see Tommy anywhere on site. He does see Nico, who's by far one of the nicest and weirdest people he's ever met. The last time Buck saw him, he was holding two grapefruits in his hands and offered Buck one. He then asked Buck about his thoughts on axolotls while he ate the grapefruit like an apple.
When Nico spots him, he doesn't so much as crack a smile. Instead, he ducks his head and turns his back. Buck would be lying if he said that didn't make him feel like he'd just been tased. Again.
"Uh, give me a second," Buck says to the gang, then breaks away and heads in Nico's direction. Maybe if he strikes up a conversation then Nico might warm back up to him again.
But halfway there, a polar bear steps into his path. Said polar bear is 5'2" with her hair rolled and pinned back and held with an honest-to-goodness snood. She's also holding a cigarette daintily between two polished fingers.
Calling Dana a polar bear is unfair. She's much scarier, and probably deadlier.
"Can I help you." It's not phrased as a question, but Buck gets the feeling that the only acceptable answer is no.
"Uh, h-hey, Dana," he says, awkwardly lifting a hand. Despite the huge discrepancy in their sizes, he feels about two inches tall under her blank stare. "It's good to see you. It's been, uh, a while."
She says nothing. The cigarette between her fingers crackles softly as it smolders.
"I-I was wondering if Tommy was around here somewhere," he pushes on, even as he hopes and prays for the earth to open up under his feet and swallow him whole. "I didn't see him but… I need to talk to him. I-Is he here?"
Dana has the odd ability to maintain eye contact with anyone who she comes across. She doesn't blink when she does it. Her expression never changes. It's awful. Buck only spoke with her a couple of times during his relationship with Tommy and he felt like a prey animal every time. According to Tommy, she once had a staring contest on a call with a suspected arsonist that ended with the guy bursting into tears and confessing to every one of his crimes. The whole thing apparently took three minutes.
After a few skin-crawlingly long seconds, her gaze hardens—although Buck can't quite explain how, because her eyes don't narrow and her perfectly-shaped brows don't so much as twitch.
Tilting her chin ever so slightly to the left, she holds Buck's gaze as she addresses the rest of her team. "Did you hear that? Evan Buckley wants to know where Tommy is."
Her voice is as mild as a spring afternoon on a still lake, but there's a shadow swimming beneath the surface of it when she says his name. In response, the Harbor team erupts in whispers and quiet jeers.
This isn't the first time in his life that Buck's been surrounded by people who are visibly angry and disappointed in him, but it certainly ranks as one of the most humiliating.
Dana still has Buck's gaze in a death grip as she brings her cigarette to her crimson lips and takes a gentle drag. As she slowly breathes out the smoke through her nose, she smiles. His heart pounds in terror.
"You have a lot of nerve asking about Tommy," she says softly. "Especially after being a no-show at his hearing."
The world around him—the trainees talking and laughing and making bets about which house will win, the instructors going over the itinerary with the fire captains, the 118 and the 217 baring their teeth at each other—falls as silent as it did when he'd been pulled under the Pacific.
"The hearing? W-What hearing? I don't know about a hearing, seriously."
"If I hadn't forced him to call you and leave a voicemail asking if you'd be a character witness, I might almost believe you just now," Dana murmurs deafeningly.
It takes a few tries to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "I never… I never got a call, Dana, I swear. Not a call or a voicemail. W-What happened? Why would they—"
Stupid questions. He knows exactly why they would do it. Bobby's death was devastating, but it somehow shielded the 118 from any repercussions from the lab incident. But there had been more than just the 118 involved that day.
"Where's Tommy?" Buck drags in a shuddering breath. "W-Why isn't he here?"
Dana says nothing. She simply takes another drag of her cigarette.
"Did—did they fire him? Oh god, did they pull his license? Is Tommy still—can Tommy still fly?" Did Buck somehow manage to yank the sky out of Tommy's reach and leave him to deal with it alone?
Face wreathed in smoke as she breathes out, Dana smiles again, small and terrifying. "See you on the course."
Knees shaking, Buck watches her saunter away, the rest of the 217 falling into line behind her. One of them twists around to flip Buck off.
He gives himself a few moments to breathe through the panic, then trips on what feel like newborn colt legs on his way back to where his team is waiting.
Ravi takes one look at him and asks, "You good?"
Buck ignores him and steps up to Chimney. "D-Did you know there was an investigation into Tommy's involvement. Because of the virus? That there was a hearing? D-Dana said he called me to see if I'd take the stand, but… Chim, I never got a call."
He watches confusion pick at Chimney's expression before realization comes out of nowhere and swallows it whole, leaving only guilt in its wake. "Shit. Uh, Buck, I'm—"
Chim glances at Eddie. Slowly, Buck turns to look in that direction.
"Oh, shit. Shit," Eddie mutters. He looks at Buck and cringes. "Buck, I—I didn't think…"
"What did you do?" Buck whispers.
It's Hen who steps forward and places a hand on his arm. "It was… we thought it might be too much after Bobby… if either of you… Maddie thought—we all thought things might be a little easier for you if we, uh, blocked his number on your phone for a bit. Just until things blew over."
He stares at her, at all of them, utterly betrayed. Then he takes out his phone and goes into his settings. Sure enough, there's Tommy's number, sitting on his Blocked list with about two hundred spam numbers. "H-How did you even—"
After a moment of charged silence, Eddie grimaces. Oh, of course. Eddie knows his passcode. Buck would never have given it a second thought to hand his phone over if Eddie needed it for something.
"We must have… forgot to unblock it," Hen finishes quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. "Once things got better. Oh god."
"That… is an insane invasion of privacy," Ravi says slowly. He stares at Chimney with wide, incredulous eyes. "That is a serious violation, Captain."
Chimney looks at the ground. "I—we just wanted to do what was best for Buck."
"Did you even ask Buck what was best for Buck, or did you make a unilateral decision the way you people always do," Ravi demands.
The group devolves into a battle of accusations and Chim trying to pull rank and Eddie getting riled up and shoving a finger at Ravi, and Buck stands there amid it all and wishes he were anywhere but there.
Eventually, one of the academy instructors goes over and tells them things are going to start in fifteen minutes, so they had to report to the main area in five for instructions for the first match.
Ravi takes Buck by the shoulder and leads him away after the instructor, leaving the rest of the 118 to guiltily follow. Eddie tries to talk to Buck, to explain, to defend the decision, but Buck can't be bothered to hear him out. Ravi and a couple of their other team members, the ones outside who are perpetually outside the inner circle, turn themselves into a barrier, keeping Buck away from them.
Right before things start, Chim stands in front of them and says. "Look, we're the 118, and we're undefeated. Let's show them who we are. We can… deal with everything else once it's over."
Buck stares at Chim in disbelief for a long time, then turns his head to face forward as the MC of the competition begins explaining the rules of the first match.
To no one's surprise, the 118 bombs every single one. The cooperation and coordination for which they're known is nowhere to be found. They either try to hard or not hard enough, and Buck's focus is a distant memory. He's usually so good at the glove and screw drill, but his hands are too shaky for the precise work needed to win.
That, and the 217 absolutely bodies them.
(Harbor don't miss, how it's done done done!)
When the 217 is declared the winner at the end, no one from the 118 can even muster up the energy to shake anyone's hand. While the academy trainees cluster gleefully around the 217, Dana breaks away and glides over to them. Despite having set a record for the maze run, she doesn't have even a smear of soot on her.
She takes in the bruised and defeated tableau they make, taking a moment to glance at Buck, and smiles just a very little.
"Better luck next year," she says mildly, then saunters after her team.
Inhaling, Chim turns to address the 118, no doubt to give a consolation speech that will be talked about for weeks, but Buck is already turning away. "Buck, c'mon."
"I'm banging out for the rest of the day. I'd say give me a call to sort it out, but who knows? Maybe I'll block your number about it. You know, just until things get better," Buck spits out, then heads for the exit, leaving everyone to stew in their shame.
Except Ravi, who ditches them to go hang with the 217 and idly ask about any potential openings.
Buck ends up taking an Uber straight to Tommy's house and he spends the entire ride trying to figure out what he's even going to say. How do you apologize to someone for not noticing that you've blocked their number for months? All it's going to do is crystalize the fact that Buck never reached out himself, never said thank you, never asked if Tommy might need something from him for a change.
Luckily, Tommy's truck is in the driveway. Which means Tommy's home. Which means Buck needs to cowboy up and get out of this Hyundai Sonata and face the music. He slowly walks up the path, then spends a few minutes standing on the porch and thinking about those magical six months they had together. He used to daydream about this house and what it might look like a few years into the future, a few decades into the future. He spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about what they could plant in the flower beds that lined the house, and about how a glider would look on the porch and the cold mornings they could spend wrapped up together in a blanket with their wrinkled hands wrapped around mugs of cocoa.
It seems impossible that there might be any sort of future for them now, especially when Buck's responsible for taking away everything that Tommy loves, but he won't be able to make peace with that until he can at least apologize. He owes Tommy that much.
Steeling his shoulders, Buck knocks on the door three times, then clasps his hands together behind his back to keep them from shaking. After a minute, he sees a silhouette moving in the vision panel before the door opens.
The Tommy that sticks his head out is not a Tommy that Buck recognizes: there are suitcases under his eyes, and his hair messier than it was the day he showed up at the hospital for Chim and Maddie's wedding after having battled a fire for 13 hours. His face is handsome as ever, but it's flushed with what has to be fever. There are pillow lines marking his skin, like he'd been sleeping hard when Buck knocked.
Pulling the flannel blanket he's got around his shoulders in a little tighter, Tommy squints at him.
"You're not my sweet and sour soup," Tommy rasps.
I could be, Buck almost says. Instead, he states the obvious: "Y-You're sick."
"I also have the flu," Tommy agrees, trying to muster up a grin for the joke but apparently too weak to manage it. "Shouldn't you be at the academy?"
Buck stares at him. "Y-You know about that?"
"I was really looking forward to it, but." Tommy shrugs his shoulders. "'s what I get for putting off my flu shot. Sucks. I was gonna dominate the obstacle course."
Buck opens his mouth to ask why he'd be allowed to attend, because only employed firefighters can be part of it, but then he thinks about standing in front of Dana and asking what they'd taken from Tommy when the decision was handed down at the hearing.
But she never actually answered. Because Tommy clearly was able to keep both his license and his job. She just let Buck come to his own conclusions and then used his confusion, horror, and guilt to her advantage. The 118 never stood a chance.
Diabolical, he thinks in reluctant awe.
"Sorry," Tommy says, breaking through Buck's thoughts with a voice made entirely out of bits of glass and lava rock. He's listing against the doorframe like it's the only thing holding him up. "I'm glad to see you, Evan, really, but I—I think I need to be horizontal."
Once upon a time, that sort of remark would've turned Buck into a quivering, half-feral monster. But now it spurs him into action, stepping up and getting an arm around Tommy, helping to take his weight.
"You shouldn't be up, Tommy," Buck murmurs. "You've got the flu. You're supposed to be resting."
"You're supposed to be soup," Tommy says with a slight whine.
Swallowing a laugh but not able to get the grin down too, Buck holds him a little tighter and helps him back inside.
In this moment, he can't deal with the very real shit his friends—his family—pulled that almost kept him from this man once again, but he can change bedsheets and dole out ibuprofen and wait for the soup delivery. Or see what's in Tommy's fridge and make an even better soup. Something warm and filling and healing.
None of this will ever make the LAFD's Insta, but someday their wedding announcement might. Buck's willing to wait and see.
This one if for @sadieb798 who gave me the idea! 💙
~
“What do you mean, you didn’t tell Eddie and Bobby?” Buck asks, taking in the small group sharing a table.
“This was never supposed to be a group outing, Buck,” Chim replies. “I wanted to catch up with Tommy, and Hen decided to tag along.”
Buck grimaces. “Should I just leave you guys alone?”
Clearly he misread the situation when he heard about the plan and assumed he was invited. Hen and Chim have a long shared history with Tommy; it makes total sense for them to get together for a few beers.
“No, but you are buying the first round,” Chim tells him.
Buck hesitates, still feeling like he’s intruding, but Tommy reaches out and puts a hand on top of his. The little gesture anchors Buck and dispels his doubts.
“Stay?” Tommy asks, with an amused glint in his eye. “These two don’t appreciate my jokes.”
“Yeah, because we heard all of them before,” Chim counters, though he’s grinning like he can’t wait to listen to Tommy’s puns again.
“Okay, one round of beer, coming up,” Buck announces. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll help,” Hen offers immediately. “Four hands are better than two.”
Buck gives her a grateful nod, kisses Tommy’s cheek and extricates his hand.
“Don’t overthink it, Buckaroo,” Hen tells him while they’re waiting for their beers. “It was a misunderstanding. If any of us had a problem with you joining us, we would’ve said so.”
That’s easier said than done, because overthinking is kind of his specialty. “Thanks, Hen. I just don’t want to be the third wheel. Or the fourth wheel? Wait, four wheels are good, right?”
Hen gives him a patient smile; the one that says he’s being ridiculous but she loves him anyway. “Four wheels are good, Buck.”
When they come back to the table, Chim and Tommy are talking about people who left the 118 over the years and where they ended up. Buck sits back down and pushes one of the beers over to Tommy.
“And then you left for the big open skies,” Chim recounts, “and we got Buck instead.”
It takes Buck a moment to process the information. “Wait, I was your replacement?”
Tommy frowns like he’s doing the mental math himself. “I left in…June 2017?”
“Yeah, we just missed each other,” Buck confirms. For some reason he feels a little sad about the missed opportunity, even though Tommy’s in his life now.
Hen lets out a surprised little laugh. “I didn’t even put that together, what a weird coincidence.”
Tommy smiles at Buck, all warm and tender. There’s something incredibly genuine about him, and it makes Buck wonder if it’s too early to call Tommy his boyfriend.
“Can you imagine Tommy and Buck 1.0 both at the 118 at the same time?” Chim asks Hen over the rim of his glass.
Hen makes a sound that might be a wince or a laugh, or possibly a little bit of both.
“Hey, I’ve seen the error of my ways!” Buck immediately protests.
To his horror, Tommy looks intrigued. “Buck 1.0?”
“The horny himbo edition,” Chim explains cheerfully.
“Can we talk about literally everything else?” Buck groans. “Like the dinosaurs that were roaming the Earth when you were working together?”
But Tommy gives him another warm smile and says: “Maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t run into each other back then. I would’ve been too scared to ask you out.”
Hen doesn’t comment on Tommy’s words, but her eyebrows say a lot. Buck decides to ignore whatever her face is doing.
“I think I would’ve liked you anyway,” he tells Tommy. “No matter when or where. I can’t imagine not wanting to get to know you.”
Chim makes an exaggerated gagging noise, followed by a wince when somebody—either Hen or Tommy—kicks him under the table.
“Yeah?” Tommy asks, giving Buck a very fond look.
“Yeah,” Buck confirms and takes Tommy’s hand. This definitely seems like boyfriend territory.
“I think we’ve lost them,” Hen declares.
Buck can hear that she’s smiling, even without taking his eyes off Tommy.
hiiii! sorry this one took a bit. you'll never believe it but it went a little long. hope you like it! (and congrats again on finishing like a detuned radio! it's so good!) <3!
It was only the fourth time they’d worked the same scene since… everything. And the other three times, Tommy had been in a helicopter. They’d had almost no interaction. Two of those times, Buck had barely even seen him, the third, he’d just been one of the people helping load the patient.
This was different. Tommy was there on ground crew. In his turnouts, looking like the beast Buck wished he could forget about kissing.
The 217 was leading the scene, the 118 and 122 supporting. Buck had helped secure the scene but for now it seemed they weren’t needed.
So he stood near the 118’s engine and watched, his eyes able to instantly locate Tommy no matter how much he tried to lose track.
And then, as was so often the case when something went wrong, things changed in an instant.
Tommy was taking down a section of fencing with a halligan when an electric line fell.
The sparks and noise instantly etched themselves into Buck’s deepest nightmares.
Buck was up and moving in an instant, his entire awareness on Tommy jerking upright as the line hit the fence. Before he got more than five steps, he was on the ground, Ravi on top of him.
“Let me go!”
Ravi didn’t even try to argue, he was too busy looking around for others to help hold him down. He got his wish and Buck was plastered to the pavement with the weight of half his team pinning him in place.
He couldn’t hear what was going on over the sound of his own protesting howls but he could see the 217 swarming, knew they were handling it. But he couldn’t see Tommy anymore, couldn’t tell what was going on.
Shaking off Harry, Buck got one knee under him and pushed himself half up before Hen got a better hold on him. “I have to help! I need to be there!”
“Not letting you get yourself killed trying,” Hen answered. “Let his people do their jobs.”
It felt like forever, laying on the asphalt with dirt and soot, damp with overspray biting into his cheek with freezing teeth. He heard calls between the 217 now, not that he could make out the words over the echoing thud of his heartbeat.
Tommy. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. He had to be okay. He had to survive. Buck needed to apologize, needed to thank him, needed to yell at him for a thousand years. Needed to look at Tommy’s face with his too blue eyes and his perfect eye scrunch when he smiled.
He hadn’t told Bobby and now he hadn’t told Tommy. He kept making the same mistake, thinking there was time.
Finally, they must have gotten the power out or the line cleared. Tommy was on a board, being carried to the closest RA.
Buck kicked free of Harry again and wrenched himself from below Ravi. They let him up. He was at the back of the ambulance by the time they got Tommy there.
Lucy caught his arm. “He’s alive,” she told him.
“Tommy…” Buck gasped. They were bagging him so Buck could barely see Tommy’s face. He managed to touch his leg as they loaded him. “Please… I need you.”
Then all he could do was watch as the RA left with him.
---
He’d crashed again on the way to the hospital. It was a miracle he wasn’t on a vent but his breathing was pretty good now. They were going to have to keep monitoring him, concerned about the damage to his heart.
Right now, though, Buck just wanted him to wake up. He’d been holding his hand since the moment he’d been let in to sit with him. Talking to him. Cajoling and bribing and threatening him. Anything he could think of to get him to wake up.
“If you can hear me at all, don’t… don’t take any deals or… fall for some life where everything seems perfect. I… I can guess maybe you’d have… have something like me and get a family where everyone cared and… and maybe your dad was someone who cared about you and… and just wanted you to be happy. And, fuck… I can understand why that would s-sound really good and maybe… maybe better than coming back here where things are so… so…” Buck’s breath hitched and he stroked his thumb along the heel of Tommy’s hand. “We’ve both messed up so much but… but I think maybe… I hope maybe… we both still… still want to try.
“I do, Tommy. I really do. I don’t want to… fuck, we have to stop wasting so much. Seeing you…” Squeezing his eyes closed did nothing to erase the image of Tommy, electricity surging through him.
“Wake up. Please wake up and fix this with me. I’m… god, I’m so tired of missing you and being scared and… you have to be too, right? You… you wanted to try that morning and I fucked it up. But you came when… I’m sorry I let my anger and… and fuck, I’ve just been so sad, Tommy. I thought I was sad before but then… then…”
With his free hand, Buck scrubbed at his face. “We don’t have to be sad anymore, though. Or… or miss each other. If… Tommy… Tommy, please wake up and tell me you want that, too.”
In Buck’s hand, Tommy’s fingers twitched. It was like Buck was the one with too many volts running through him, then. For a moment, his whole brain staticked out, too shocked, too hopeful to find words to speak.
But he didn’t need words. He stood and leaned over Tommy, brushing his lips over Tommy’s forehead. “You can do it,” he whispered. And then he kissed him, his lips on Tommy’s for the first time in over a year. He held Tommy’s hand and kissed his mouth, his cheek, that perfect fucking cleft on his chin. “You can do it, Tommy.”
His lips found Tommy’s again and then Tommy’s hand was squeezing his and Tommy was kissing him and the heart monitor was beeping and Buck was laughing, laughing into a kiss he’d worried he’d never have again.
“That’s it,” he murmured right into Tommy’s mouth. “Just like that, Tommy.”
Buck paces back and forth along the side of the 118's engine; watching the smoking apartment building in front of him, listening for anything besides static to come through on the radio in Chimney's hand.
Chimney looks between Buck and the building, like he isn't sure whether he's going to have to restrain Buck or if he's going to go in there himself.
Chim's radio finally crackles to life. Buck only makes out "EMT," "Delta," and "Kinard" before he's running as fast as he can to the right side of the building, where the 217's engines are parked. He stops when someone shouts his name.
Tommy's sitting in the back of the ambulance with his turnouts half undone, holding an oxygen mask to his face, as Lucy looks him over. He looks up at Buck, takes off the mask, smiles weakly. All he gets out is a raspy, "hey," before Buck cups his face and kisses him. He makes a surprised noise. When the kiss ends, he sighs.
Lucy swats at Buck's arm. "Buckley, this is not the time to take his breath away."
Buck gives her a sheepish smile and puts the oxygen mask back over Tommy's mouth and nose. "I know, I'm sorry, I just…I thought—"
Her stern expression softens. "Yeah, I know." She squeezes Buck's shoulder. "He'll be fine, but he should get checked out anyway. I assume you'll be by his side?"
Buck takes Tommy's hand in his. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."
amandla
izzy806
origamiaround
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
yousharknotpass
