I hope I'm not stepping on your toes, @corporatebanana, but your pointy teeth monster theo has bewitched me body and soul. and also activated my weird magical bullshit trap card. So I wrote a ficlet about it.
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“I'm sorry to bother you,” Evan said with an earnestness that was going to be his downfall one day, “but I don't know who else to ask.”
“It's fine,” Tommy said, even though a year's worth of unanswered texts and ignored calls meant it wasn’t. But that was on Tommy, not Evan, who lost someone he had furiously and joyously loved. Tommy didn’t love like that. He spent the first half of his life unaware it was even possible to love the way Evan did. “What do you need?”
Evan picked at the cardboard sleeve on the coffee cup. Despite the fact it was hot and only going to get hotter, Evan had eschewed his usual over complicated frozen monstrosity in favor of just regular hot coffee. “I have a foster son,” Evan said only to them immediately laughed. “Holy shit, Tommy, you gotta control your eyebrows or I’m never getting through this.”
This turned out to be the last year and half of Evan's life, an insane recitation of insane events made impossibly even more insane by Evan's rehearsed tone, like this was a funny slice of life story he was sick of telling.
“And now Theo is living with you,” Tommy said, eyebrows wrestled back into submission.
“He, uh, doesn't have anywhere else to go,” Evan said, the picking turned into full on shredding. They were going to have to sweep up the mess before going so they wouldn't get banned; it was the only coffee shop that employed a barista who hated everyone but him particularly, which meant she made the best coffee in the entire city. “Kameron’s family kicked her out and Connor was an only child. His parents and aunt aren't able to take care of Theo.” And then, a little guilty: “He needs a lot of attention.”
The old hurt snapped into anger. “He just lost his parents. Of course he needs attention. Jesus Christ, Evan.”
Evan jerked back a little, blinking rapidly in the face of Tommy's misplaced anger. “Hey, I know that, I do.” Evan said it gently, as if in apology even though Tommy was being an asshole. “I just meant that Connor’s parents were older when they had him, and now they’re not able to care for Theo. That's all.”
“No, I’m sorry. That was my own bullshit. I didn't mean to put that on you.” He scrubbed a hand over his face so he didn't have to look at the complicated face Evan was making. “So what do you need me for? Pretty sure your sister or Diaz can give you better parenting advice than whatever I could come up with.”
“You'd be surprised,” Evan said dryly, and pushed his unlocked phone across the table.
The kid that stared up at him was cute, and now that he was looking for it, undeniably Evan's biological kid: same nose, same beaming smile, same—wait. He zoomed in on Theo's smile, trying not to feel exactly like what his father always claimed he was. “Is that...?”
“He gets it from his mom. That’s why her family kicked her out.” Evan’s brave little smile wobbled. “Theo is, uh, he’s like—”
“Like me.” He couldn’t look away from that pointy smile. “Yeah, I don’t think Diaz is gonna cut it for this one.”
The cardboard sleeve had been reduced to its base components. Tommy passed his sleeve before Evan could start in on his cuticles.
“I know we haven’t—that I haven’t—” Evan broke off, frustration pulling the corners of his mouth tight.
“Just say it,” Tommy said, gentle even as he felt the telltale warmth along his spine. Thank god he’d been smart enough to go with a high collar shirt and a hoodie; the only skin showing was his face and hands, which were normal. Safe.
“There aren’t many people like him. Even the social worker doesn’t have many resources.” Evan set the cardboard sleeve aside. “It’s already so hard to be a kid, but this is going to make it—”
“Even worse for him?” He kept his tone level, but Evan flinched as if he shouted.
Evan shook his head. “Kameron and Connor should be the ones helping him and loving him, but now he’s just got me, and I don’t know what I’m doing.” Evan’s jaw set with that earnest determination. Nothing in the world was as devastating as Evan’s sincerity. “He needs people in his corner, and you’re one of the best people I know.”
Tommy closed both sets of eyelids. There it was, just like how he knew it was coming. Evan wanted what he could do but never just wanted him. He couldn’t even be angry about it; it was his own fault for never bother to fucking learn.
“Tommy?” Evan touched the back if his hand.
His opened his eyes. Right now, hidden under the shirt and hoodie and his sturdy boots, he was all lit up, a warning to predators that, hurt or not, the smart move was not to fuck with him. He slid his hand away.
“Does he have any other traits outside of the teeth?” he asked.
Evan stared forlornly after his hand before giving himself a hard shake. “I thought maybe he had like super smell, but turned out it was only for cookies. So just the teeth right now.”
“He’ll probably develop a couple more as he gets older. Puberty is a real bitch. I had terrible growing pains and I was itchy all the time.” The worse part was the never ending deep burns as he grew new nerves and cells and—well, changing in the locker room got a lot more complicated after that.
Evan perked up a little. “Oh, is that when you got the—”
“Yup.” That came out too short and Eva deflated a little. It was hard to tell from just a picture, but he’d bet there were too many teeth for Theo’s small mouth. “You should get him something to chew on.”
“Like a dog toy?” Evan said in an extremely scathing tone.
“First of all, the kid is what, four? He’s going to want to bite anyway but he is definitely going to want to put those chompers to work. And I’m sure they’re bothering him. Chewing will help.” Theo was too young to be able to tell exactly what kind shit got mixed in with the usual genetic make up, but Tommy had a feeling. “Has he lost any teeth yet?”
Evan squinted suspiciously at him. “You mean his baby teeth? He’s like several years away before his adult teeth come in.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about baby teeth. There’s a good chance he’ll lose and regrow them throughout his life. You’re going to need a good dentist. I’ll ask around.”
“Regrow his teeth?” Evan said, ignoring the bit about the dentist, which was fine. Tommy had that part covered. “Like a shark?”
He smiled. “How does the kid handle bath time?”
Evan made the face of every aggrieved parent. “He loves it when he’s actually in the bath, but he hates getting in or out of it. Transitions are hard for him.”
“They’re hard for everyone.” One last look at the picture before he pushed the phone back across the table. “We’ll have to take him down to the beach and see how he does with the actual ocean.”
“You think he’s really like—but you don’t have the teeth,” Evan said. And then, “Wait, we?”
Tommy gave his best nonchalant shrug. “I know what it’s like growing up with an extra rung in your DNA. Like you said, the kid is gonna need people in his corner.”
Evan swallowed hard, clearly fighting his own Buckley DNA to keep from crying. “Thank you,” he said softly, and this time Tommy let Evan take his hand.
“Of course,” he said just as soft, even as his weird, monstrous DNA lit up in a futile effort to ward off danger.
after buck and eddie get together if there isn’t a shot where they’re walking and holding hands and buck bumps their shoulders together and they separate a little but then eddie pulls him back in by their still connected hands i will have a nervous breakdown
okay wait. stay with me. the shot is focused on shoulders-up at first. they’re talking as they’re walking next to each other. buck bumps eddie intentionally, emphasizing whatever point he’s making. they both step back, just a little bit to reverse their momentum. camera pans down. eddie reaches out and grabs bucks hand as he continues the argument, interlacing their fingers and pulling buck back to him firmly enough that they bump into each other again. buck cannot think of a comeback because he’s so distracted
AU where Tommy watches Heartstopper because his teenage nephew makes him watch it, and it makes him sad about all the things he missed out on growing up.
Cut to next day on the job. That helicopter goes down. Cut to Tommy waking up as his 17 year-old self living at home with his parents, only the year is wrong, it's 2026.
It's 2026 and he has to go to high school where he's the captain of the football team.
Today is the day of tryouts, out on the field walks the new kid who moved to town, and his name is Evan Buckley.
he gives good parent by queermccoy
Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz/Tommy Kinard
Characters: Tommy Kinard, Evan "Buck" Buckley, Ramon Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Helena Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Additional Tags: Mentioned Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Mentioned Theo (9-1-1 TV), Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Meeting the Parents, Established Relationship, Polyamory, Mentioned Margaret Buckley and Phillip Buckley, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously
Summary:
Tommy Kinard gave good parent.
He was charming, steady, made great first, second, and third impressions. Mothers liked him because he respected his partners and fathers liked him because he was a man's man. Even when he started dating men, he was good at meeting parents.
When he'd met Evan's parents, Margaret and Phillip Buckley, covered in soot and grime, they'd laughed at his jokes and shook his hand. They hid their surprise well, Tommy'd thought, and once the reception died down and people began to trickle out, they'd parted with fond goodbyes. Up until their breakup, Tommy and Phillip had been trading tips on pest control in their respective gardens, even though Tommy barely kept his. Philip had sent him a heartfelt text message when he'd gotten the news about the breakup, wishing him well with his beetle infestation.
Oh you know what would have been a good way to explain Philip and Margaret's divorce (instead of literally not explaining like the show did) or even just getting Philip, back into Buck and Maddie's lives?
So like, the divorce happens, but it happens because they got Buck's email about Bobby's death, and it makes Philip realize, hey, I have a son and he's hurting and dealing with lose in a similar way that I've had to deal with lose, and not only that, but I'm reminded that I'm getting older and I don't have forever.
So, it's a tipping point where Philip realizes he wants to not only move on from many decades worth of grief, but to do better for his living kids. And Margaret? Having none of it. She's stuck. So it tears them apart.
Then when Philip reaches out to Buck it's more expensive. And you know what? Maybe he starts actually talking about Daniel. Maybe he shares what he remembers of their little brother.
Maddie who doesn't have many strong memories from her own childhood of the brother she lost, and Buck who can finally stop seeing him as an idea, and more of a real person, someone to feel connected to in a positive way, a child who didn't ask to be used an emotional weapon/excuse to be terrible to his siblings by his own parents.
it really is fitting that buck’s childhood was spent unknowingly competing with his dead brother and now phillip is doomed to spend the rest of his days competing with buck’s dead father, knowing he’ll never come out on top.
There are two cups of coffee on Eddie's kitchen counter.
One’s a standard, dark navy LAFD mug, one of a good half-dozen or so that have somehow found their way here from the station. The other is bright green, covered in cutesy cartoon animals, proudly proclaiming ‘I went WILD at the LA zoo!’ Christopher had a sticker of the same design plastered onto the hardtop of his pencil case for most of fourth grade. Eddie always thought the elephant was a little wall-eyed, would joke about him needing medical attention for the stroke.
The mugs are the first thing Eddie sees when he walks into his kitchen, the things his sleep-drenched mind chooses to focus on. The navy is filled to the brim, the coffee a deep black that’s surely masking an extra spoonful or two of sugar. He can’t see the contents of the other, already mostly drunk away, but it’s doubtlessly lighter, though probably not the creamy tan Eddie’s been seeing for years, since the apparently permanent change over to oat milk. Oat milk that now lives in his own refrigerator, too.
There’s a plate piled high with silver dollar pancakes set out on the island. Chris has already helped himself to more than his fair share, cheeks bulging with the ones he’s already shoved into his mouth. He’s now slowly and carefully moving some onto Theo’s plate. Theo must have been given some of the watermelon Eddie had cut up yesterday afternoon but it’s already gone, pink juice staining his chin and the front of his monster truck pajamas as he gleefully sucks each one of his sticky fingers.
Eddie closes his eyes.
It’s a far cry from their last morning all together like this. Just a few days ago he had woken up in the same way; alone in the bed he had had to share, drawn to the kitchen by sounds of life and gnawing hunger. Chris, sullen and cranky after another night camped out on Buck’s couch, had snapped at Theo to just shut up already. And Theo had screamed and screamed until Buck picked him up, balancing him on one hip, letting him bury his snotty, tear-stained face into his neck. Buck’s expression would twist and he’d quietly grunt every time a tiny socked foot dug into the softness of his belly. That was not a day for pancakes, and Eddie had watched Buck struggle to try and pour out cereal and milk with only one hand free.
Eddie had barely taken a step closer, ready to take some part of it over, but had received his own snapped I got it for his efforts.
He had closed his eyes then, too, listening to Buck’s coffee maker as it burbled to life – Buck had forgotten to set the timer, but at least it gave Eddie something to do. By the time the coffee was done, there was barely enough time to drink it, the countdown to getting out the door already well under way. Eddie ended up burning his tongue, had spent the rest of the day scraping the numb roughness of it against the roof of his mouth.
It had felt the same, that morning, in that kitchen full of distress and upset. The same as it feels now, in this kitchen full of warmth and laughter and, most importantly, pancakes.
“You can go back to bed, if you want.”
Eddie finally opens his eyes. Buck is at the stove, scrambling up enough eggs for a small army. He’s wearing his own hoodie but borrowed sweatpants, fabric stretched tight around his thighs. He glances up at Eddie through the corner of his eye, offering an apologetic smile. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”
It’s true, he could just go back to bed. They’re in the middle of their 48 off, no plans for the day but chores and a grocery run. But Eddie shakes his head to get the last clinging cobwebs of sleep out. “Nah, I’m up now,” he says as he takes a step closer to his waiting mug.
But first, he steps into Buck’s space, mindful of the stove. He brushes his fingertips against Buck’s cheek, catching slightly on the scratch of his stubble, until Buck turns to look at him with curiosity in the furl of his brow.
Eddie kisses him.
Soft and light, it’s done almost as soon as it’s started.
“Good morning,” Eddie murmurs against his lips before he steps away and finally,finally, gets his hands onhis coffee.
He takes a long swallow. As expected, there’s been a little extra sugar stirred in. It’s delightfully warm.
He dips his hand into the sink for the damp washcloth that’s now perpetually on hand, setting his mug down as he swoops around to the other side of the island. “Morning, Chris,” he says as he presses a kiss to the top of his son’s head, stealing a piece of extra-crisp bacon from his plate, ignoring the protests both actions cause. “And good morning, Master Theodore,” he says with the best Michael Caine impression he can muster this early, this pre-caffeine, as he snags a spit-wet hand and starts to scrub.
“That’s not my name!” Theo giggles and squirms in his seat, but allows Eddie to clean him up, turning his face into it as the pink on his cheeks stops being a juice stain and becomes a pleased flush.
“Wait, is Theo your full name, or…?” Chris has finished tearing pancakes into toddler-sized pieces and is now carefully adding a drizzle of syrup to the mix. Eddie sighs, grabbing his mug again, resigned to staying right where he is with the washcloth at the ready.
He looks up at Buck once he’s had another sip. Buck, who’s standing there, staring at him.
He’s looking a little wall-eyed. Might need some medical attention for the stroke.
Eddie nods his chin back towards the stove. “Your eggs.”
And then he winks.
He’s immediately rewarded with Buck’s eyes growing huge, his posture straightening, lips parting like he’s about to actually say something. Then his limbs are flailing as he turns back towards the stove, lifting the pan and scraping at the contents with a muffled, “Shhhhhoot.”
Eddie smiles to himself as he raises his mug back to his lips, watching the tense line of Buck’s shoulders, down the ramrod of his back. Huh, his sweatpants are tight back there, too, who’d have thought?
Buck turns, pan in hand, and starts to dole out eggs, piling Chris’s plate high with all the crispy edges. He comes around to Eddie’s side, arms brushing as he puts a more modest scoop onto Theo’s plate, leaning close as he breaks it up into more bite-sized chunks with the wooden spoon.
There’s a brush of lips against Eddie’s cheek, the soft noise of a tentative peck.
Eddie smiles and leans into Buck, pushes their hips together, side by side for a moment before Buck moves on to make their own plates.
“Finally,” Chris says, mouth full to bursting with a bit of everything from his plate. “Buck? Ketchup?”
“Sure thing, bud,” says Buck.
“Manners,” sighs Eddie.
“Catch up!” shrieks Theo. Eddie catches his arm as he throws them into the air and starts to wipe down a syrupy hand before it gets tangled in his hair. Again.
Then Eddie goes and makes two more cups of coffee.
