quintessenceofdust88 -> thegirlinthe118bubble -> quintessenceofdust88 (yes I'm back to my origins)
I'm Gabby, a 90s-born Brazilian who has English as a second language!
My fandoms are always changing, but at this current moment, 9-1-1 and Bucktommy have taken over my life, and I couldn't be happier about it. You might see some musical theatre (mainly Wicked (hence my icon), POTO and Les Mis), Good Omens and veeeeery occasionally some SPN here as well!
Here's some links to help you navigate this ADHD-ridden blog. I try my best to tag everything properly:
[My AO3]
[My Writings - general]
My ask is always open for fanfic prompts! Fluff is my bread and butter but I'll try anything! My main ship is Bucktommy but I also love to write gen moments between the fire family, because found family is what brought me to 9-1-1 in the first place!
And my ask is also always open if you want to talk about anything in general! I love getting to know people and talking to them. So, yeah! See you guys around ♥
i don't CARE if canon has Evan Buckley dating or sleeping with or hell getting married to someone new in the next season/s, he is never getting over Tommy Kinard in my book and they WILL get back together
Saw a pic rn that got me thinking of Buck or Tommy coming home from shift/grocery run while blobs are still small (no more than 6 months) and not finding other three of family members anywhere. Then coming to their master bedroom and blobs are playing with their toys in their boxes on bed while other daddy is asleep between them
Diana bby, hi <3 it's no exaggeration to say I've been thinking about this ask since you sent it to me, and. Well. I meant to write a drabble hehe buuut it turned out a little... bigger?
Anyway thanks for bringing me inspo to go back to Blobs Verse, my love, I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it!
Tommy likes to think he and Evan prepared very well for the arrival of their little blobs. They bought every single thing they could need (including a Bluetooth formula dispenser which they found in very little time that they, in fact, didn't need); they read approximately a thousand articles about parenting and another thousand about parenting twins specifically.
There were still many, many surprises.
One of the things Tommy has come to learn in the last four months since the twins were born is that babies are noisy. If they aren't crying, they're always making other kinds of noises: little grunts, sniffles, tiny sighs. Even their breathing is loud, which freaked him and Evan out at first until the pediatrician reassured them it was normal.
So, all in all, silence hasn't been the norm in their house as of late. If Stella and Leo aren't making their cute baby noises, he and Evan are cooing at them, because, well. Their babies are ridiculously adorable.
Which is why, when Tommy walks through the front door one Thursday afternoon and is greeted by complete silence, it gives him pause.
Evan could have gone out with the babies, of course, but usually he lets Tommy know when he does. He checks his cellphone just to be sure, but, as expected, there are no texts from his husband.
Tommy takes off his boots as quietly as possible, placing them on the shoe rack and checking the living room. It's surprisingly tidy, with the playpen neatly stacked away and the couch duvet folded in half.
He heads upstairs — he's not worried, really. Evan has proved himself an amazing parent in the last four months, so Tommy is more curious than anything.
Once he reaches their bedroom, he almost takes a step back, a hand over his chest. The vision in front of him is too precious for words.
As soon as the twins were born, he and Evan installed two bedside bassinets, one on each side of their master bed — there was never a question about their babies co-sleeping with them, and they preferred to have one on each side than both of them in the same twin bassinet.
That's where they are.
Stella is on the left side, wearing a moose onesie that Bobby got her ('You can take the man out of Minnesota, but not Minnesota out of the man', Evan had joked), her fist firmly clutched around her otter lovey, one floppy ear tucked between her gums. Leonardo is on the right side, on his tummy, wearing a yellow onesie (Evan loves dressing Leo in yellow; he calls him their tiny sun). His favorite elephant plush is in his hands; Leo is staring so intently at it that Tommy briefly wonders if it's done anything wrong. He silently wishes the elephant the best of luck.
Tommy's heart already feels impossibly full, seeing his babies like this, but then…
Evan.
His husband is in between the two babies, wearing one of Tommy's hoodies and sweatpants, his socked feet hanging off the end of the bed.
Fast asleep.
His arms are stretched toward each bassinet, as though he'd been making sure the twins were safe before sleep got the best of him. His handsome face is completely relaxed, his mouth slightly open. He's softly snoring.
Tommy is impossibly in love with him.
He stands by the door, his arms wrapped around himself, and just… looks at them. Evan peacefully sleeping, their two precious blobs by his side without a care in the world because they're cared for, and safe, and adored.
Not even in his most optimistic days — which weren't very often, Tommy's self-aware enough to recognize — would he ever dream of having a family this perfect. He will never understand how he's gotten this lucky.
His plan is to come in quietly, pull the blankets up Evan's chest and take the twins to the living room so his husband can enjoy his nap undisturbed. Evan's still not back at work, so usually he's the one taking care of the twins most of the time, and Tommy knows how exhausting it can be.
Stella does not agree with his plan.
The minute Tommy enters the bedroom and his daughter spots him, she lets out a loud shriek of joy, her chubby fists reaching out towards him. When Leo hears his sister, he also looks up, and also screams when his eyes land on Tommy.
Now, normally Evan can sleep through a carnival band, but when the twins are concerned, he is tuned to every little noise.
So, naturally, he wakes up. He sits up, blinking his eyes open and instantly reaching for the babies. His shoulders relax when he follows their line of sight and he finds Tommy standing beside the bed.
"Tommy," he says sleepily, an adorable smile spreading across his face. "You're home."
"Hi, sweetheart," Tommy says, bending down so he can press a kiss to Evan's awaiting lips. "I'm sorry, I was going to take the babies to the living room so you could sleep a little longer, but they decided to be little tattle tales."
Tommy scoops up one baby with each arm, pressing a kiss to each one of their cheeks. "Hi, Stellina", he coos to Stella, who's still holding on to her thoroughly drooled-on otter. "Hi, Leo-bear", he coos to Leonardo, who's already patting Tommy's cheek in greeting, his intense blue eyes looking at his Papa instead of the elephant now.
"Aww, can you blame them? They missed their Papa", Evan says, and Tommy feels a rush of warmth on his chest.
He's their Papa and they're happy when he's home. It's the best feeling in the world.
"I missed them too", he says softly. "I'll take them downstairs so you can finish your nap."
Evan frowns, the hint of a pout on his lips, and he holds on to Tommy's T-shirt.
"Don't", he asks. "I mean, just… keep an eye on them here?"
Tommy considers it; he knows soon Stella and Leo will learn how to crawl, and the peace of just watching them in bed will be gone. They might as well enjoy it while they can.
"I have a feeling you just want to use my chest as a pillow", he says, raising an eyebrow, and Evan mock-gasps.
"I resent that", he says.
Then a beat.
"But you're right."
Tommy kneels on the bed first, carefully lowering Stella beside Evan before doing the same with Leo. His husband automatically reaches for both of them, one hand on each tiny back, before settling them safely into their bassinets while Tommy stretches out beside him.
Evan wastes no time and wraps himself around Tommy, his head resting right above Tommy's heart. He sighs contentedly. clearly ready to fall back asleep, and Tommy presses a kiss on his forehead.
"Sleep, sweetheart", he whispers. "I'll be here for the three of you."
And this is a promise Tommy plans to keep for the rest of his life.
Hello beautiful friends! Did you know the 911 hiatus exchange fics have been posted?? Did you know there is so much NEW AMAZING fic for you to read!?
Selfishly I will link you all to this lovely fic that was written for moi!
Good Enough (Was always good enough for me)
But you should definitely go check out the other fics there too! (I’m not sure if they’d be showing up in your searches if you have anonymous authors blocked as the authors won’t be revealed until Aug 8!)
The shift had been easy and the weather was everything anyone could’ve wanted for a Friday afternoon. It was the perfect excuse for the team to grab a bite to eat somewhere nice, then move on to a bar as the afternoon turned to evening.
Chris was at a friend’s birthday party until Saturday morning, the Buckley-Han babies were with the Lees, and Karen dropped the Wilson kids off with Toni and Clive, so they were child-free for the night.
It was a rare, perfect night where they didn’t have any obligations but to enjoy themselves and no work for another two days.
They were about three rounds in when he appeared.
They had the best table on the terrace. It was situated behind the outside bar, there was enough shade for Maddie and Buck’s pale complexion, and plenty of setting sunlight for Eddie to work on his tan on the other side of the table.
So it was probably the alcohol that made it difficult for Buck to figure out how he knew the guy who’d sidled up to their table, beer in hand, with a grin that seemed just for Buck.
He wasn’t sure if it was a hook up, a rescue, or maybe someone he saw regularly in the gym, but there certainly was something familiar about him. It was his dark eyes and how they seemed to recognise him, and the shape of his smile, and the way his right canine was a little sharper than the left.
It was Ravi who spoke up after Buck and the newcomer stared at each other for far too long.
“Hi, do you know Buck?”
His laugh reminded Buck of his childhood.
“Uh, I think so.” He knocked Buck’s shoulder with his own. “Evan Buckley, right?”
Buck cleared his throat. “Yeah, but I’m not sure I know your name.”
The maybe-stranger shrugged and held his hand out for Buck to shake. “Evan Wright.”
Despite being three beers in, Buck was certain that wasn’t the name of the other Evans in the academy, and he couldn’t think of any other Evans he’d met.
He shook the other man’s hand anyway.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Evan Wright.”
Evan, the other one, laughed. “We’ve met.”
Buck wished the confirmation could jumpstart his memory. “God, this is awkward. When? Where?”
He really hoped the answer wasn’t Grindr. The rest of the one-eighteen would never let him live that one down.
Evan laughed again. “Hershey. I took your virginity.”
That had Buck scoffing. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.” It was also something he knew the team was filing away for future teasing, particularly Ravi and Eddie, especially since everyone seemed so interested in their conversation. “I’m also certain that I lost my virginity to a girl.”
“And sometimes girls grow up to become men who take the name of their first boyfriend.”
Holy fuck.
It took every ounce of Buck’s self-control to not blurt out Evan’s deadname as he felt the pieces fall into place. That laugh, those eyes, and that goddamn blunt canine – hell, Buck even knew that the left tooth wasn’t as sharp because of an accident with a basketball, which had been the root of Buck’s hatred for the sport.
He’d been fourteen when he’d met Evan and had awkwardly asked him out to the movies. They’d been fifteen when they’d skipped school to celebrate their one-year anniversary by having sex for the first time, and sixteen when Buck experienced his first heartbreak when Mister Wright took a job in Denver, effectively breaking up their relationship. Initially, Buck and Evan had emailed each other daily, but that had died down by the third month. Buck moved on, started dating Sarah Zhang, and hadn’t thought of Evan until he’d tried to find him on MySpace years later, but had no luck. Buck realised in that moment that it was probably because he was looking for someone with the wrong name.
“Holy fuck. The last time I saw you, you were boarding a plane to Colorado.”
There was a quick gasp from Maddie, an ‘oh my God’ followed.
Buck noticed that Chim ducked his head in for her to whisper to him what she knew. That whisper was then passed on to Hen, then Karen, then Ravi and Eddie, because the one-eighteen was the best gossip mill outside of the trashy tabloids that still managed to exist in 2026.
They weren’t subtle about it.
“How’d you end up here? You’re a long way away from Hershey,” Evan asked, not at all bothered by the whispering.
“Well, I got out when I was nineteen, travelled a little. Actually made my way down to Peru for a bit. Came back up to become a firefighter here.”
There was an appreciative, almost hungry, way to how he sized up Buck. It made Buck preen a little.
“Explains why you’re bigger than an ox.” He looked around the table. “And your friends here all look a little beefy, too.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Buck cleared his throat. “This is my family at the one-eighteen.” He went around the table introducing everyone. “You’ve got Eddie and Ravi, Karen and her wife, Hen.”
Evan interrupted. “Of course, the prettiest woman in the bar would be a married lesbian,” he sighed, and Buck grinned while Hen played along. He was so charismatic – which was different to how Buck remembered him. Perhaps it was him being able to be who he was that made the difference.
“Lastly, we have Chim and Maddie.”
He gasped. “The Maddie?”
Buck laughed. “Yup, the Maddie. Maddie, guys, this is, well, Evan. My first, uh, first partner?”
“Oh my God,” Maddie said again and shuffled her way to the other side of Buck to give Evan a crushing hug. “I can’t believe I get to meet you! You were all Buck could talk about for like two years. How did you end up in LA?”
Evan shrugged. “Oh, the usual: lonely trans boy fell in love with his online Californian sugar daddy, who paid for all the surgeries, shows up to his home uninvited only to find out he already has a husband and a dog. I fear I’m deathly allergic to both.”
“Jesus.”
Before Buck could say anything else, Evan motioned towards his empty beer glass. “Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we can catch up?”
“You know what? I’d love that.”
Buck definitely caught Evan checking him out. Buck had seen that look plenty of times before – ten years ago, it would have resulted in Buck going home with a woman who looked at him like that.
Thank goodness he’d expanded that to men, too.
“The world is so small,” Buck said when they made it to the bar. “I can’t believe we’ve run into each other like this.”
“Right? I do see Mrs. Buckley pop up as a suggested friend on Facebook every now and then, but actually bumping into you in person? Fucking crazy.”
“You look good. Sorry it took me so long to put it together.”
Evan laughed and squeezed Buck’s bicep as they got to the bar. “You’ve tripled in size, I almost thought there was another guy with the same birthmark.” There was another squeeze. “Goddamn, Evan. How much do you lift?”
“I, uh, got by ‘Buck’ now. And not too much, just enough to keep me strong enough to lift unconscious people out of fires.” That got a scoff out of Evan so he flexed a little. “You know, they’re not for the aesthetic. I work out to save lives.”
“Does that line actually work, Buck?”
“All the time.”
At least it used to, back when he was all about picking up at bars and clubs.
“I’m not the only one who’s changed a lot, though.”
“You’re taking this better than I thought anyone would,” Evan admitted. “You do realise that all those times you went down on me, you were sucking my dick, right?”
Buck huffed out a laugh. “And here I was thinking Tommy’s dick was the first I’d sucked.”
“Sorry?”
“Not to mention all the straps before that.”
“Wait, what?”
Buck leant forward on his elbows with a grin. “What, you think you’re the only queer guy here?” He managed to finally grab the bartender’s attention, but Evan beat him to it.
“Two tequila shots, please.” He shot Buck a flirty look while the bartender turned to grab the bottle. “I’d say I never would have pegged you for queer, but it sounds like I really could peg you.”
“Oh my God.”
It was probably the deepest, fullest laugh Buck had enjoyed in over a year.
“Not that I’d have to. I had a brilliant surgeon.”
“I’m happy for you.”
The tequila, salt shaker, and lime slices were placed in front of them. “We'll need another round,” Evan said quickly before completing the salt-tequila-lime ritual faster than Buck had ever seen anyone accomplish it, and he’d seen it a lot from his time behind a bar (and as a patron).
“Wow.”
“Keep up, Buckley.”
Buck did as he was told. They’d given them the cheap stuff, the bottom shelf Blanco he would give out back during his bartending days to save the bar a buck or two. It made his throat burn and his teeth tingle for a moment before the lime left him wincing.
Goddamn, he was almost too old for tequila shots.
The second round appeared as quickly as the first. It disappeared in record time with Buck keeping pace with Evan.
“So what you’re saying is that I have a chance,” Evan said, handing his credit card over to the bartender to open a tab.
And if that was where it was going, Buck was certainly going to flirt back.
“A chance at what?”
He knew he was giving Evan that smile, the one where his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth for a moment to pull attention to his completely kissable lips.
“A chance to be your first and maybe next boyfriend.”
It was like he hit him with the water cannon.
Fuck.
Evan must’ve seen the change because he leant back a little.
“Did I come on too hard? Are you just after something casual?”
“No, no, it’s not…”
Fuck it, why did his feelings for Tommy have to ruin it? If he hadn’t loved him as much, hadn’t pushed for more, he might’ve still been with him.
Buck sighed. “I am so sorry, I’m not as over my ex as I thought I was. I, uh, was ready for him to be my first and last boyfriend, you know?”
Evan’s hand was warm and soothing along his spine. “Yeah, I know.”
“You deserve someone better than a guy who can’t move on.”
“Mm. Sounds to me like we both deserve more tequila.”
The next round tasted like bad decisions that hadn’t yet been made.
Which was crazy, because hopping into a Lyft after the bar had closed to tell Tommy that they could get back together because he wasn’t Buck’s first boyfriend seemed like the best decision ever.
Hindsight sure was 20/20.
Hindsight’s vision was far superior to Buck’s as he sat in the back of that Mazda, watching the lights of the street pass him on the way to Tommy’s home. They blurred in a way that was both pretty and made Buck dizzy.
He must have said something about it, because his driver barked at him about not throwing up in his car.
That had Buck scoffing, because he wasn’t so drunk that he’d vomit.
He had much better things to do, like reuniting with his ex-boyfriend, who would certainly take him back after hearing his bulletproof reason.
Buck felt a sense of vindication when they pulled into Tommy’s driveway without barfing. He might have stumbled slightly as he got out, but he did not vomit, not even a little bit.
The porch light switched on before Buck got to the door, which felt amazing, like Tommy was welcoming him home. He knocked on the door all of two raps before it swung open.
“Evan?”
He looked so good. Sleep-ruffled and comfortable. Buck missed seeing him like that.
“You’re not the first guy I dated,” Buck announced but had to slap his palms against the doorframe to keep himself upright.
It would be a hell of a lot easier to feel like he wasn’t going to fall over if Tommy’s house would stop fucking spinning.
“You’re not even the first guy I had sex with.”
Really, that was a shockingly difficult sentence to get out, though Buck wasn’t sure why.
“Evan…”
“That’s who was! Evan. Evan was the first.”
Tommy sighed. It was his judgemental sigh. “Masturbation doesn’t count.”
“What? No. Wrong Evan. Though, masturbation is great.”
“And I commend you for saying that so easily when you are so, so drunk.”
“Evan likes tequila.”
“Third person. That must have been a lot of tequila.” There was that sigh again. It kind of pissed Buck off that Tommy was sighing like that around him. “You’re not making it home tonight, and even if you did, I’d be scared to leave you on your own.”
“Why did Evan have to like tequila?” Buck mumbled, and then, oh God, the absolutely worst thing that could have happened fucking happened.
The tequila made a reappearance all over Tommy’s chest.
The damned Lyft driver was right. Fuck.
Buck wanted to die.
“Oh my God, Tommy, I am so…”
He at least turned his head and aimed for the garden bed that time, vomiting what was probably beer and the burger he’d eaten before Evan had re-entered his life.
“Okay, let’s get you into the bathroom,” he heard Tommy groan before his big, warm hands steered him through the house.
The rest of the night disappeared in a blur of shame.
-
The morning began with a healthy dose of mortification and hangover.
Buck woke to a splitting headache sometime much later than he usually woke in what, he was most embarrassed to realise, was Tommy’s spare bedroom.
There was a bucket by the bed, a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the bedside table, and what appeared to be clothes Buck had left but had never picked up following the break up.
“Fuck.”
He almost didn’t take the painkillers because he deserved the hangover for vomiting on Tommy after waking him up at whatever stupidly hour in the morning.
A massive part of Buck strongly considered sneaking out but Tommy must’ve considered that because Buck’s keys and phone were missing, so Buck took two pills, drained the glass of water, and flopped onto his back in the middle of the bed to fall back asleep until the meds kicked in.
When he woke up the second time, his head wasn’t pounding as bad as it had, and the house smelled of Tommy’s breakfast specials.
God, Buck loved him so much.
He also knew that Tommy deserved an explanation and the greatest apology a man could muster, so Buck forced himself up out of the bed and into the fresh new clothes before he stumbled out into the kitchen, where Tommy was clearly waiting for him.
His phone and keys sat in the middle of the kitchen table, placed there so Buck would have to talk to Tommy before he could leave.
“That’s cruel.”
“You threw up on me.”
“...point.”
Tommy pulled out a chair and motioned for Buck to sit down. He surprised Buck by then placing in front of him a large takeaway coffee Buck hadn’t noticed. The sweet scent of a caramel mocha made the cruelty worth it.
Buck had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something incredibly stupid, like he loved Tommy.
“How much of last night do you remember?” Tommy asked as he dished out breakfast.
Buck groaned miserably despite how good his coffee tasted. “All of it.”
A plate full of eggs and bacon and hash browns and toast landed in front of him, then Tommy sank into his own chair.
In another world, that could have been Tommy preparing breakfast for Buck as his partner, not some ex who’d bashed on his door at some stupid hour in the morning, drunk on booze and nostalgia.
That was devastating.
“Including the part where you implied that you jerking off meant I wasn’t your first?”
“I, uh, actually ran into my real first boyfriend last night. Lost my virginity to him when I was fifteen.”
Tommy had very expressive eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Great guy. Loves tequila. Transitioned when he turned eighteen and chose my name as his.” He paused for another sip of his coffee. “He, uh, made a joke about him being my first and next boyfriend, which reminded me of you…”
“After, I’m assuming, a lot of tequila?”
“I feel the correct measurement was a fuck-tonne of tequila, but yeah.”
“Hence you showing up at me door extremely drunk and throwing up on my daphne bush.”
“I am so sorry about that. The vomiting part. And the middle of the night part. But…but I’m not sorry that we’re here.”
Tommy made that hm sound he made to encourage Buck to continue.
And Buck decided he wasn’t going to hold back. He couldn’t, not if he wanted to get Tommy back in his life in any kind of capacity.
“So…look. I don’t get it. Yes, you are the first man I’ve dated, but it’s not like I’ve never been in a relationship before. Yes, having sex with a man, being in love with a man, was all new to me, but being in a relationship was not. You wouldn’t have been the first partner I lived with. You were, however, the first one I saw a real future with.”
The drunker version of him had imagined a much different outcome, but the ‘hey, you’re not my first boyfriend, let’s get back together’ plan wouldn’t have worked in the long run anyway. They needed to talk it out and get to the bottom of their concerns.
“And you know what? I still want it. I still want you. I have dated and fucked and been single and learnt how to be alone again and I still want you. I still want to be with you.”
Buck let out a shuddering breath.
“But I get it. I messed up that morning. You said you wanted to try again and I blew it by saying whatever it was that I said…”
“That you didn’t need to have feelings for me to sleep with me,” Tommy paraphrased.
“Right. Fuck.” It hadn’t been Buck’s greatest moment. “That’s not what I meant, though. I meant, like, what I said before. I’ve done that, casual sex and one-night-stands, because I’m not new to this. To dating. I’ve done that and I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to be with you. Even after all this time, I want to be with you.”
And there it was, his cards all out on the table. Nothing but the truth.
The time it took for Tommy to say anything made Buck ill. Sure, part of it was the hangover, but the wait was just…
“I’m sorry.”
Oh.
Buck was scared he was going to throw up again. He wasn’t sure there was anything in his stomach except for the few sips of his caramel mocha, but the fear was definitely there.
“No, I mean…” Tommy reached out and grabbed Buck’s hand.
It reminded him of their first coffee date, the one where Buck had bought him the worst coffee in the world, but Tommy had been so interested that he’d agreed to be his date for Maddie’s wedding.
The hope also made him feel unwell.
“I’m so…scared of what you could do to me. I don’t think you realise how easy it is to fall in love with you, and how hard it is to get over you, Evan.” When Buck opened his mouth to argue the obvious, Tommy raised his free hand to motion for him to stop. “Please. I know what you’re going to say and you’re wrong, and I hate that you think that way because you are an amazing person and I am tired of knowing that and loving you and not being with you, especially since we have seen how easily everything can be taken away from us.”
Oh.
“So, while I am a little upset about the midnight vomiting, I am glad that you ran into your first boyfriend.”
Oh.
“I want to try again. I want to do what I can to try to be your last.”
-
Evan had been Buck’s first boyfriend.
He’d also been the first guy Buck had asked to be a groomsmen two years later.
for all the trolls that keep following the bucktommy tag religiously, I present you with a collection of non-AI, non-photoshopped, amazing gifs for your personal enjoyment! (*)
(*) because, deep down, you do ship them, don't you? that's why you can't stop following the tag. it's ok, I understand. Tommy really is that great.
Hi my loves! Chapter 4 of Sunny Days is finally up and I can't wait to hear what you all think!
Pls give it some love here and on AO3? Thank youuu! ♥
TW for internalized ableism from Buck
Evan
Tuesday (fourteen days ago)
(3:00pm) hey, sorry for bailing, I really wasn't feeling good. Overdid at PT, probably. Needed to rest.
(3:01pm) Don't apologize, I just worried! Are you feeling better??
(3:40pm) yeah, just gotta take it easy for a bit.
(3:41pm) I understand! Is there anything you need?
(3:45pm) no, but thanks, Tommy.
Friday (eleven days ago)
(9:00am) hey! Are you feeling better? Do you wanna pass by the café?
(9:01am) I don't have a shift for the next 48 hours, so I'll be hanging around here…
(9:01am) Might rescue you from Stardew Valley boredom haha
(9:45am) hey. can't today. Leg's still acting up and therapist told me to let it rest for a few days.
(9:48am) Sorry…
(10:00am) Don't be sorry, Evan! Health comes first.
(10:01am) Do you want me to bring you some pastries? I can leave it at your door…
(10:10am) No, thanks, my sister has me covered. I'll stick to my Stardew Valley farm today.
(10:15am) Oh. Okay! Have fun :)
Monday
(1:30pm) there's lemon cake today! Should I save you a piece?
(2:30pm) no, can't. Sorry.
Wednesday
(2:00pm) Hey! No pressure of course, but are you doing better?
(2:10pm)) Any chance you might come to the café soon? The girls miss you and Sunny…
(2:12pm) And so do I
(2:12pm) you have deleted this message.
Saturday
(10:00am) Evan
(10:05am) Are you doing okay?
(10:06am) I don't want to overstep or anything
(10:07am) But I'm here if you need something…
(10:09am) Or even if you only want to talk.
(10:10am) I, um. I miss you.
(10:11am) Hope you're doing okay.
(Read at 11:00pm)
Today
(4:30pm) hey Tommy
(4:31pm) I'm so sorry for going MIA on you…
(4:32pm) Things are a bit hard for me right now.
Tommy stares at the words on the screen with such intensity that he's afraid he'll open a hole on his phone. After almost a week of complete silence, Evan finally texted him; and yet, it hasn't made Tommy feel better.
Realistically, Tommy knows his reaction is disproportionate. He and Evan have known each other for less than a month, and haven't seen each other for the last two weeks. Evan owes him nothing.
And yet… Tommy had foolishly thought they were building something. That their flirty talks at the café and when he walked Evan home were going somewhere.
Apparently, he was wrong. And it hurts way more than it should.
Especially because it seems to not even be about Tommy, really. Evan is struggling, and Tommy doesn't know with what. He doesn't want to assume that it's about Evan's leg, but it seems like the most logical conclusion; after all, from their conversations, he'd gathered that the amputation was relatively recent, so maybe something in the adaption process is being harder than expected.
Tommy feels the urge to help, to do something, but… He doesn't think it would be welcome. Whatever it is, it seems to have made Evan want to stay away from him, and there's nothing Tommy can do but respect it.
He doesn't have to be happy about it, though.
Some of what he's feeling must show on his face, because Sal raises his eyebrow at him. They're both sitting by the counter at Gina's Roast, just waiting for Gina to put them to work, and Tommy probably has been staring at his phone for too long.
"Who kicked your puppy, buddy?", Sal asks, and Gina glares at him with the force of a thousand suns. Then, she looks at Tommy with so much tenderness that he can barely take it.
"Is this about Evan, honey?", she asks softly, and Sal looks between them, a frown between his eyebrows.
"Evan? Does Tommy have a boyfriend? I'm busy for two weeks training a rookie and you get a boyfriend?"
"Not a boyfriend. He's just… We're friends, but. I don't know if he wants even that anymore", Tommy sighs.
Gina gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then offers Sal a bit more of an explanation. "He's a guy that Tommy brought to the café a while back. He had some trouble with his service dog at Jolene's, but of course she was more than welcome here. The girls loved her"
"I see", Sal comments, looking more concernedly at Tommy now. "And I'm guessing something happened and he stopped coming?"
"I mean, I guess? He said he's having a hard time right now, so… I don't know, I'm trying not to take it personally", Tommy offers quietly, and Gina and Sal exchange one of those irritatingly meaningful looks of theirs.
"And you really shouldn't, sweetie", Gina suggests. "I mean, didn't you tell me that Evan's amputation is very recent? He's probably still adjusting to so many things"
Tommy nods, looking down. Objectively, he knows Gina is probably right, but that doesn't change the fact that, above anything else, he misses Evan something fierce.
"I mean, maybe you should -", Gina starts again, but suddenly Sal raises his head as if he's just realized something very important.
"Wait", he interrupts her, and that's how Tommy knows it's serious, because Sal never interrupts Gina. "…Is, um. Is this Evan guy missing a leg, by any chance?"
"Yes", Tommy says with a frown. He doesn't think Gina mentioned what kind of amputation Evan's had. And why does it matter anyway? "Why?"
"Right… Right" Sal pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes falling shut for a second. "This wouldn't be Evan Buckley, would he?"
Gina and Tommy exchange a surprised look, and then they both look back at Sal. "Okay", Gina says. "Are you suddenly a psychic or do you know something we don't?"
Sal, however, has his attention turned to Tommy, and there's an incredulous expression on his face. "…Tommy. How have you not put this together, man?"
Tommy blinks twice, taken aback, and looks helplessly at Gina, but she seems just as lost as he was.
"What are you talking about?"
Sal runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, but he looks at Tommy as if he didn't want to be the one telling him any of this.
"Buddy. Your new friend is Evan Buckley from the 118"
"From the…", Tommy begins, before the realization crashes into him.
He feels as if all the air has been knocked out of his chest, an unpleasant feeling coiling in his stomach. "…The firefighter who got trapped under the truck"
Of course Tommy remembers that, everyone in LAFD does; he had been out of town at the time, taking a few days off to visit his Nonna in Indiana, but the accident had been national news. He even remembered Nonna asking if it was a friend of his and saying that she'd pray for him anyway.
Like so many things, it had eventually slipped out of Tommy's mind as weeks went by. He didn't really talk to anyone at the 118 these days, so it's not like he could ask for more details. And then, when he met Evan, it felt wrong to ask how he'd lost his leg; Tommy figured that he'd tell him if and when he wanted to.
But then… Oh, my God. Of course. Of course Evan had started acting weird once Tommy told him he was a firefighter.
Fuck.
"Oh, Evan", Tommy whispers, more to himself than anyone else.
He takes his cellphone from his pocket and stares at his message thread with Evan. His fingers itch to write something, anything, but… What can he say? That he understands? Is that even what Evan needs from him right now?
No, Tommy realizes with complete certainty. There's nothing he can say to Evan through text.
Whatever he has to say, he has to say it while looking Evan in the eye.
(Read the rest under the cut or on AO3)
He wishes he could say that was new, but it's been a constant for quite a while now. Still sucks.
To his credit, he has been trying. Ever since telling Bobby, Maddie and Chim what was the reason behind his mood, Buck has been trying. Trying with PT, trying to have people over, trying not to let the bad thoughts take over his mind completely.
But it feels like trying to stay afloat when the current is too strong.
Today, the current is winning.
He half-assed his way through PT, and Maddie could tell. When she tried to talk to him about it, though, Buck snapped at her, saying he didn't need a babysitter and that she should just leave him alone. He could tell that had hurt his sister, and she hadn't lingered after dropping him off, choosing to give him space. Leave him alone like he'd asked.
It didn't make Buck feel any better.
Now he's feeling like shit and he's lonely. And miserable.
Sunny rests her head on his knee, whining softly, her chocolate-brown eyes looking up at him. Buck can't help but smile softly, running a hand through her fur. She's basically his guardian angel; he doesn't know what he'd do without her.
He sighs, resting his head against the couch, absentmindedly petting Sunny while the thoughts swirl in his head. He feels lonely, and his fingers are itching to text someone, but…
Buck's first thought is Maddie, but he's too ashamed after their spat. He knows he has to apologize, and he will, but… Not now. Not yet. He doesn't have the emotional bandwidth for it.
Then he thinks of Eddie. His best friend has been great ever since the accident, coming over and bringing Chris whenever he can sense that Buck needs some love from his favorite kid in the world. But… No.
No, deep down, Buck knows it's not Eddie he wants to text.
It's Tommy.
Buck misses Tommy so much it's ridiculous. He misses the café, too—Gina, the girls, the warmth of the place—but Tommy is the one who's constantly on his mind.
He misses their easy talk, and Tommy's scrunchy smile, and the way Tommy would always adjust his pace without comment when he walked Buck home. For that matter, Buck misses the way Tommy made those walks feel like just two friends hanging out, and not him taking care of Buck in any way.
He doesn't understand how a person can become so important in so little time, but the fact remains that Tommy's absence feels like a splinter under his skin.
It's been three days since Buck finally stopped ghosting Tommy, telling him things hadn't been too good for him lately. Tommy hasn't answered.
If he's honest, Buck knows he shouldn't have expected any differently. Tommy had every right to not answer him after being ignored for two weeks. But it still hurts.
Buck's fingers itch to send him another text, to apologize, to ask Tommy to please come over, but how can he? How can he explain to Tommy why he left without sounding completely unreasonable?
His phone buzzes by his side, and Buck's first instinct is to ignore it; it's probably Bobby asking about PT, and Buck doesn't feel like talking about that. But it buzzes again, a few times in a row, and Buck frowns; Bobby doesn't type that fast.
He reaches for his phone, and almost drops it when Tommy's name shows up on his screen. And then almost drops it again when he reads the text.
Hi Evan.
I'm downstairs.
I… I found out about your accident.
I promise I don't want to make things worse, I just… I want to talk to you.
Can I come up?
I'll understand if you say no.
Buck's stomach drops, his heart speeding up. Tommy knows. Fuck, Tommy knows. He can't tell if that's good or bad.
Why is he here anyway? Does he want to… What? Offer Buck his condolences for losing the job that gave his life purpose? Say he understands? Exchange firefighting stories?
What Buck fears the most, he knows, is Tommy seeing him differently. He can't take Tommy's pity.
But…
Tommy's absence in his life has been terrible. Nothing can be worse than that.
Besides, Buck has to think about Tommy too. After ghosting him like that when Tommy had been nothing but nice to him since the day they met, the least Buck owes him is an honest conversation.
hey…
ofc you can come up. apartment 13. there's an elevator.
you're right, we should talk.
It can't be more than one minute between Buck's last text and a shy knock on the door, but to him, it feels like an eternity. When he hears the knock, his heart feels like it forgot how to beat, and Buck needs a deep breath.
"Sunny, door", he says softly, but his dog hears it anyway, readily jogging towards the door.
Buck pushes himself to his feet using the sofa for support, keeping one hand on it for balance as he turns towards the door, completely unsure what to expect. Before he can brace himself either way, Sunny is already using the adapted handle to open the door, revealing an equally guarded Tommy on the other side.
Tommy frowns at first, looking at Buck so far from the door, but then he looks down and his face clears in understanding. Sunny gives a quiet bark of greeting before returning to her place by Buck's side, ready to help him should his balance falter.
For a second, they just stare at each other. Buck had forgotten just how handsome Tommy is (and he knows he keeps piling up evidence against his so called heterosexuality, but it's not the right moment to think about that), and he can't explain the feeling of… rightness. That he feels, seeing Tommy at the door of his apartment. As if he belongs there.
Buck wants him to belong there.
He can only hope he didn't screw it up before there was even a chance.
"Hey", he says, his voice faltering a tiny bit. "Come, um. Come in."
"Hey", Tommy says back, almost a whisper.
He comes in, closing the door behind himself and immediately burying his hands in his pockets. His posture is guarded, his shoulders almost reaching his ears in tension. Buck doesn't remember ever seeing him this nervous before.
"I, um. Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting anyone", Buck says, because he doesn't really do silence and has to say something.
Tommy hand-waves it; honestly, it doesn't seem like he's paying attention to the apartment at all, his gaze fixated on Buck. He runs a hand over his face and bites his lip.
"It's fine. Can we, uh. Can we sit? I think this is a sitting down conversation"
"Yeah, I think you're right", Buck concedes, and sits down on the couch.
Tommy sits down on the armchair, resting his forearms on his thighs, absently rubbing his thumbs together. He looks at Buck with those intense blue eyes, and Buck is at a complete loss on what to say.
"So, um", Tommy starts, a frown between his eyebrows. "How have you been, Evan? You… You said things have been tough."
Buck is caught off-guard by that; he was half expecting Tommy to demand an explanation. He knows that should make him feel grateful, or at least relieved. Instead, an inexplicable flash of anger runs hot through him.
He doesn't want to be pitied. Or coddled to.
"It's been shit, Tommy", he says, looking away. "But you don't have to treat me with kid's gloves because I don't have a leg and have been moping about it"
"I'm not", Tommy says, his voice irritatingly leveled, and Buck scoffs. That anger still hasn't left his chest, and he can feel the heat rising up his chest and reaching his cheeks.
"The fuck you're not", he says. "Stop being so goddamn perfect all the time, won't you, Tommy? Say what you really mean for once!"
Tommy blinks, clearly taken aback by Buck's tone. Even Buck's surprised at himself, but at this point, it feels like it's beyond his control; that he couldn't stop even if he wanted.
"Alright, then I will", he says, crossing his arms over his chest, and it gives Buck some petty satisfaction to notice there's some irritation seeping into his voice. "It really sucked to be ignored like that, you know?"
That makes Buck deflate a bit, shame finding its way into his chest along with the anger. He had kind of tried to convince himself that Tommy had been mostly unaffected by his distance, that he'd only reached out to be polite. Now it's clear that's not the case, and it makes him feel bad.
"I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Ignored you. It wasn't fair.", Buck grumbles, running a hand over his face, his stubble prickly on his fingers.
He used to keep it razor sharp because of the department, but it feels useless now that he barely leaves the house.
"I just…", Buck continues, taking a pause when he feels his voice falter. He won't cry in front of Tommy. He has some dignity left. "I didn't know how to talk to you. Not without telling you everything."
Tommy frowns, hunching forward on his seat, his eyes intensely focused on Buck. "Why… Why did you feel like you couldn't tell me?"
"It's not that…", Buck says, and then sighs deeply. "It's not that I couldn't. I never felt I couldn't. I just… I didn't want to."
There's silence for a bit as Tommy absorbs that information. Buck thinks it's only fair to give him that time, and tries not to stare. He looks down at Sunny, who's lying on the floor by his foot, and strokes her fur. She sighs, but doesn't move from her comfort spot.
Eventually, Tommy straightens, clearing his throat, and Buck looks back up. Tommy is looking at him, but Buck can't read his expression right now.
"I…", he starts, then shakes his head. "I… I'd have liked to know. That we both worked at the same station."
Buck shrugs; it's not like it matters now, but he knows saying that won't be well received. He doesn't trust his voice not to tremble anyway.
"Just… Why not, Evan?"
Well. Fuck well received. Fuck his trembling voice.
"Because what would be the fucking point?! I'm not a firefighter anymore! Probably never again! So there's your fucking reason, Tommy. I didn't want to tell you because it means nothing now."
Tommy opens his mouth, but Buck keeps going. The words have been festering inside him for two weeks, and now they're pouring out like poison.
"I… The café. It felt like a fresh start. And I liked that", Buck says, his voice faltering. Damn; he's been crying more in the past few months than in the last decade.
Tommy, however, says nothing about Buck's barely existent emotional control. He's looking at Buck as if he's desperately trying to understand what's going on in his mind.
Buck would help him, if he could. But he's not sure he understands it all himself.
"I… I liked that you only knew me now. The… the new version of me. Already missing a leg. And that you couldn't compare this version to the older one"
And Buck knows, Buck knows he shouldn't say the next bit out loud, he knows it's unfair to himself, and wrong, and Bobby and Maddie would have his head for it, but…
"The… The better one."
There. He's said it. He's half expecting Tommy to jump at it with a protest, that Buck shouldn't talk about himself like that. Bobby probably would; Maddie definitely would, and she'd scold Buck for saying such a thing.
Tommy doesn't.
In fact, Tommy doesn't say anything at first; silence fills Buck's living room. It's interrupted by a small whine from Sunny, who starts pawing at Buck's leg. His outburst must have startled her. She paws at his leg once more, restless and whining.
Buck gently pats her head, bending down to press a kiss close to her ear.
"I'm fine, girl", he whispers softly. "It's okay, go back to your nap."
Sunny settles again, her head resting on her front paws. Buck looks back at Tommy, unsure what to expect after what he just confessed. In all honesty, he's surprised Tommy is not bolting for the door already.
"I didn't know that version of you", he says softly.
Then, he comes closer, close enough that Buck can smell his aftershave, something woodsy and with a hint of cinnamon. He feels an irrational urge to hold Tommy's hand, but before he can even try to resist it, the other man is reaching for his.
Tommy's hand is big and calloused, and feels amazing against Buck's own. Tommy squeezes it gently, and then looks deep in Buck's eyes.
"I like this one. The one I know."
Buck gasps, his heart beating fast, but Tommy is not done. His hand hasn't let go of Buck's yet.
"In fact, I… I like this version very much, Evan"
That shouldn't land as hard as it does; it could even sound like a cliché that would irritate Buck from someone else, but the way Tommy says it… It makes Buck feel warm in the best way, and he acts before his brain can catch up.
One second he's looking into Tommy's impossibly gentle eyes, and in the next he's leaning in.
His lips touch Tommy's, and before Buck can even think of regretting it… Tommy kisses back.
It's chaste, and brief, and Buck's lips are left tingling once it's over. He takes an extra second to open his eyes, but when he does, Tommy still has his closed. Buck's first instinct is appreciating just how handsome Tommy is for a split second.
And then he starts mildly panicking.
Because holy shit.
He just kissed Tommy.
(So much for being straight.)
Now what?
Fuck.
Tommy opens his eyes, a small smile on his face, but he sort of drops it once he looks at Buck, who has no mirror around but is sure he looks very panicked.
It makes Buck feel terrible; he doesn't want Tommy to think he didn't like this. That Buck doesn't like him. In fact, Buck thinks he likes Tommy a lot.
He just… There's too much going on in his heart and mind right now, and he can't give this new thing, can't give Tommy, the attention he deserves.
But how can he put that into words?
"Tommy, I… I…"
"Evan", Tommy stops him, and something at the tone of his voice puts Buck on edge. It's too casual, too… Neutral. "This… It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to"
"But it did mean something!", Buck exclaims, and this time he's the one grabbing Tommy's hand. He looks at it, a frown between his eyebrows. "I… I don't want you to think it didn't. I just… There's too much…"
Buck can feel tears of frustration burning at the corner of his eyes, because if the timing was different, he'd be over the moon about this kiss.
Next time Bobby starts talking about God's timing and how it's always right, Buck will throw something at him.
"Okay", Tommy says, and is like the tension has left his voice, that unnatural neutrality gone. "Okay. I get it. We don't have to figure this out right now."
"We don't?", Buck asks, and he's aware of how vulnerable he must sound.
Tommy, however, just nods, that lovely smile finding its way back into his face.
"We don't. We'll put a pin on it, okay? Until you're ready to unpin it."
"Okay", Buck agrees, unable to keep a sigh of relief from escaping his lips. But then, another fear occurs to him. "But… But can we still see each other until then? Like… Can we be friends again?"
Buck laughs at himself the moment he says the last word, rolling his eyes. "Gosh. I sound like a fourth grader."
"Hey, as long as you share your lunchbox", Tommy quips, and Buck lets out a wet laugh. Then Tommy gets serious again. "I don't plan on going anywhere. Just… Don't ghost me like that again, okay?"
To Buck's surprise, it seems like Tommy is the one on the verge of tears now. "It… It felt awful", he says, his voice small and vulnerable, and guilt pools into Buck's stomach.
"Yeah, of course. I won't. I am sorry for it, Tommy. I… I should have handled it better. It just…"
"Hey, no, I get it. I appreciate the apology, but I get it. I… I figure you have a lot on your plate."
A small hysterical laugh escapes Buck's lips. "Talk about an understatement."
He wraps his arms around himself, that sadness and despair that's become so familiar over the last few months threatening to take over again.
"It's just… Nothing's been the same ever since the accident, you know?", Buck admits, and Tommy takes a while to speak, as if he's carefully choosing his words.
"If you want to tell me about it… The accident or how it's been like since… I'm here. But if you don't, it's fine. I won't ask. It's your story."
Buck shrugs, petting Sunny once more. His dog has been very quiet ever since Tommy arrived, but she seems relaxed now. Her tail wags lazily when Buck pets her, but otherwise, she seems quite content just lying by his feet and listen to their conversation.
"I don't need to tell you", he deflects, not looking at Tommy. "You already know what happened."
"No", Tommy answers without hesitation, and Buck looks up in surprise. "I know what the press says that happened. I know what everyone's heard through LAFD's grapevine. I don't know what it was like for you."
With a pang to his chest, Buck realizes that he hasn't told his version of the story. Not really. The people closest to him were all there when it happened. And, no doubt trying to protect him, none of them have asked what it felt like.
Buck's next realization is that… He wants to tell. He's spent the last few months thinking that, maybe if he tried to put the accident behind him and focused on adapting to life without his leg, things would be easier.
Things are not easier.
Because this is about much more than his leg.
It's about closing his eyes at night and having the ghost feeling of hot pavement under his cheek. It's about being unable to forget the sheer pain of having a full firetruck pressing you against the ground.
Buck only notices he's crying when a sob escapes his chest and Tommy reaches out to wipe a tear off his cheek.
"Hey, hey", he says, impossibly gentle. "I'm sorry. We can talk about something else. Or I can leave. Whatever you choose."
"No", Buck whispers, his hand reaching for Tommy's wrist so he keeps touching his face. "Please, stay."
"Of course", Tommy answers without hesitation. "Do you want to talk about something else?"
"No", Buck says, more certain than he's been about anything in months. "I… I want to tell you what it felt like."
Tommy holds his gaze for a moment; he doesn't try to move his hand again. He just gently rubs his thumb in Buck's cheek; it feels good, and tender, and like being cared for.
I was tagged by my beloved @bidisasterevankinard, thank you Diana darling! So here are the initial sentences of chapter 4 of Sunny Days, which will be posted in full tomorrow:
Tommy stares at the words on the screen with such intensity that he's afraid he'll open a hole on his phone. After almost a week of complete silence, Evan finally texted him; and yet, it hasn't made Tommy feel better.
Realistically, Tommy knows his reaction is disproportionate. He and Evan have known each other for less than a month, and haven't seen each other for the last two weeks. Evan owes him nothing.
And yet… Tommy had foolishly thought they were building something. That their flirty talks at the café and when he walked Evan home were going somewhere.
Apparently, he was wrong. And it hurts way more than it should.
Especially because it seems to not even be about Tommy, really. Evan is struggling, and Tommy doesn't know with what. He doesn't want to assume that it's about Evan's leg, but it seems like the most logical conclusion; after all, from their conversations, he'd gathered that the amputation was relatively recent, so maybe something in the adaption process is being harder than expected.
Tommy feels the urge to help, to do something, but… He doesn't think it would be welcome. Whatever it is, it seems to have made Evan want to stay away from him, and there's nothing Tommy can do but respect it.
He doesn't have to be happy about it, though.
Some of what he's feeling must show on his face, because Sal raises his eyebrow at him. They're both sitting by the counter at Gina's Roast, just waiting for Gina to put them to work, and Tommy probably has been staring at his phone for too long.
"Who kicked your puppy, buddy?", Sal asks, and Gina glares at him with the force of a thousand suns. Then, she looks at Tommy with so much tenderness that he can barely take it.
"Is this about Evan, honey?", she asks softly, and Sal looks between them, a frown between his eyebrows.
"Evan? Does Tommy have a boyfriend? I'm busy for two weeks training a rookie and you get a boyfriend?"
"Not a boyfriend. He's just… We're friends, but. I don't know if he wants even that anymore", Tommy sighs.
Gina gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then offers Sal a bit more of an explanation. "He's a guy that Tommy brought to the café a while back. He had some trouble with his service dog at Jolene's, but of course she was more than welcome here. The girls loved her"
"I see", Sal comments, looking more concernedly at Tommy now. "And I'm guessing something happened and he stopped coming?"
"I mean, I guess? He said he's having a hard time right now, so… I don't know, I'm trying not to take it personally", Tommy offers quietly, and Gina and Sal exchange one of those irritatingly meaningful looks of theirs.
"And you really shouldn't, honey", Gina suggests. "I mean, didn't you tell me that Evan's amputation is very recent? He's probably still adjusting to so many things"
Tommy nods, looking down. Objectively, he knows Gina is probably right, but that doesn't change the fact that, above anything else, he misses Evan something fierce.
"I mean, maybe you should -", Gina starts again, but suddenly Sal raises his head as if he's just realized something very important.
"Wait", he interrupts her, and that's how Tommy knows it's serious, because Sal never interrupts Gina. "…Is, um. Is this Evan guy missing a leg, by any chance?"
"Yes", Tommy says with a frown. He doesn't think Gina mentioned what kind of amputation Evan's had. And why does it matter anyway? "Why?"
"Right… Right" Sal pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes falling shut for a second. "This wouldn't be Evan Buckley, would he?"
(DUN DUN DUNNNNN hehe)
Np tagging @frogsinflannel @corporatebanana @leashybebes @ambernotember @agentpeggycartering @unhingedangstaddict and anyone else who's got sth they'd like to share.
On Saturday I said to my partner, as I have said for months, "A ten thousand dollar a year raise would solve so many of my problems."
As of this morning I was reluctantly looking for jobs because I love my job and don't want to leave it, but see: $10k raise problem solver.
As of noon today this was no longer an issue, because my boss called me with the news that I was getting a $10K merit raise.
I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is roughly $200 extra per paycheck. Enough to pay off debt faster, rebuild my savings, and spend a weekend a month in Milwaukee getting obscenely laid. The sex I'm going to have on $200 extra per paycheck. You can't even.
May all of you get the $10K raise your soul has yearned for. And whatever level of sex you can be satisfied with for $200.
"I told you this would happen!" Tommy hisses against the back of his neck. Buck rolls his eyes and sends his elbow back into his ribs.
"Shut up, he'll hear you."
Buck holds his breath for a moment, presses his ear against the door, straining to hear anything outside of the closet he and Tommy have themselves chest to back in in their hastes to hide.
"I think the coast is clear," He whispers. Slowly, he turns the knob and cracks the door open to try to peek out into the hallway.
"Found you!" He winces as Theo's shriek of excitement echoes down the hallway. "Found you, found you! Found both of you!"
Tommy huffs out an indignant sigh and pushes Buck out into the hall so he can get out as well. Like Theo never would have thought to check the linen closet he claimed first if Buck had never bullied his way in there with him.
"Alright, we'll let you hide, but remember the rule–"
Theo is gone before Buck can finish and he turns to look at Tommy with anxious eyes.
HELLO I MADE A PROMPT MEME AND EVERYONE'S INVITED !!! it's hot in the northern hemisphere, so let's MAKE THESE MEN SWEAT !!! do you like bucktommy? do you like buck/tommy/some other guy ??? do you like leaving prompts and sighing wistfully by your window [screen] waiting for someone to fill them ??? WELL.
Hiii Kore! I'm sorry for how long this took me! But I hope I can make up for it with you with some mpreg fluff? Here we goo:
- "I could really use a hug right now."
Tommy is approaching his thirty-fifth week of pregnancy and, to be honest, he has never been more over anything in his life. Doesn't help that Lucca is bigger than the average baby (not surprising considering he and Evan are bigger than the average person) and seems adamant about squeezing Tommy's bladder every ten minutes or so. Not to mention the constant heartburn and swollen ankles and the fact his doctor had him move up his paternity leave because his pregnancy is 'geriatric' and, therefore, high-risk.
He hates the term 'geriatric pregnancy', by the way. He and Maddie have commiserated about it often enough.
All in all, he can't wait for this month to end.
It's the third day of his paternity leave, and Tommy is already bored out of his mind. At least it's a Saturday; Evan and Theo are home today, and they have plans to go out to the farmers market later, if Tommy's back doesn't protest it too much. Evan wants to pick up ingredients to make some bread.
Right now, though, Tommy is not thinking about the farmers market. He's thinking about a mid-morning snack, because the little hungry gremlin who's renting a room in his uterus definitely doesn't want to wait until lunch to be fed.
If Tommy had his way, he'd get a chocolate pudding cup. Preferably two cups. With whipped cream on top.
Alas, gestational diabetes doesn't allow him two cups of pudding with whipped cream on top. It's sugar-free strawberry yogurt for him. Yay.
He grabs a cup from the fridge, chuckling as he remembers Theo's face when he tried it. He had exactly one spoonful before his nose scrunched adorably and he handed it back to Tommy like it had personally offended him, asking Evan if he could have a Go-Gurt tube instead.
For Tommy, though, it's the closest he can get to a real sweet treat until Lucca is born. Evan has also been baking some sugar-free desserts for him, and Tommy loves him desperately for it, but right now, the sad little strawberry yogurt will have to do.
It's when Tommy reaches for a spoon that the disaster strikes.
It's the only spoon in the drawer, because of course it is. Theo uses approximately seven spoons per day, and Evan about half a dozen. So, right now, all the others are in the dishwasher that is peacefully running its cycle.
Naturally, Tommy drops it on the floor.
It falls with a very insulting and snarky metallic clang. Tommy thinks he can faintly hear a 'hah, sucker!', but it must have been his imagination.
Well.
Bending down to pick it up is definitely not a possibility. Tommy can't even get out of the couch on his own these days. If he tries to crouch, the most likely outcome is falling down on his butt, and then good luck on getting back up without having to yell for his boyfriend and admit that gravity has officially defeated him. Him, a pilot. How unfair.
It's no big deal; Tommy knows that rationally. It stands to reason that a heavily pregnant person can't bend down to pick something up from the floor.
But it's the proverbial last straw. Or last spoon, more accurately.
"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!", he exclaims, not loud enough to be picked up by the little ears on the second floor.
But apparently loud enough to be picked up by Evan in the garden.
"Tommy?!", Evan rushes through the kitchen door, hastily wiping his dirt-covered hands on his jeans and looking at Tommy with concern. "Something wrong? Is it Lucca?"
Tommy looks down at the spoon again, and then back up at Evan, and as much as he tries to deny it, he knows he's pouting. Pouting. How the mighty have fallen.
"…I dropped a spoon", he grumbles.
To Evan's credit, he tries not to laugh. Tommy can see the corners of his mouth twitching, but he bravely reins it in.
"Oh, sweetheart,", Evan says, and Tommy doesn't think he quite grasped the scope of the problem.
"The only clean spoon", Tommy clarifies, and Evan nods.
"That sounds very frustrating", Evan says, and Tommy feels a rush of affection and gratitude for this man, because yes, yes,thank you, it's very frustrating. "How can I help?"
The fact that Evan is asking instead of just barging into the kitchen and picking up the spoon from the floor makes Tommy love him even more, if possible.
He could never be vulnerable with anyone like he's learning to be with Evan.
"I could really use a hug right now", Tommy admits, because he knows the admission has a soft place to land.
Evan's whole face softens. "Oh, sweetheart", he says, impossibly fond, and crosses the kitchen in two steps on those long legs of his, pulling Tommy into his arms like he's precious. "You're having a hard time these past few days, huh?"
"Yeah", Tommy sniffles, resting his head on Evan's shoulder. "I already love Lucca so much, and I don't regret any of it for a second, but… It's been tough"
"I know", Evan says, and presses a gentle kiss to Tommy's forehead. "And I don't say this enough, but I appreciate what you're doing so much. I wish I could help more. I wish I could carry Lucca for you"
Tommy chuckles weakly against Evan's shoulder. "I'll remind you of that when it's time for the next one", he tells him, and Evan raises an eyebrow.
"Next one?"
"Only if you carry them", Tommy clarifies.
"I'll take that deal", Evan agrees, and then presses a kiss to Tommy's forehead. They haven't stopped hugging.
They stay like that for a bit, in silence, and Lucca chooses that moment to press a small kick to Tommy's bump. He smiles, stroking it gently. Pregnancy hasn't exactly been fun lately, but getting to feel his son inside him is something Tommy will never take for granted.
"Oh, look who wants in on the hug", he jokes, and Evan looks down as well, delighted. He holds his hand above Tommy's bump, a silent request, and Tommy nods.
"Hi, Lucca", Evan coos, gently stroking Tommy's bump with his thumb. "You wanted to comfort Papa as well?"
"What's Lucca doing?!", Theo's excited voice comes from the stairs, and he rushes to them in his socked feet. "Is he kicking?! Can I feel it?!"
He looks up at both of them expectantly, and Tommy and Evan exchange an amused look. Theo has been very invested in every moment of Tommy's pregnancy, delighted at the idea of a baby.
"Course you can, buddy", Tommy says, gently placing Theo's hand next to Evan's over his belly. "Talk to him a bit; he knows your voice"
"Hi, Lucca!", Theo greets happily, a toothy grin on his face. "I can't wait for you to be out here. I know at first you're just gonna cry and sleep lots, 'cause my friend Mike has a baby brother and he says that's all babies do, but then you'll grow a bit, and I can teach you how to play with dinosaurs, and we can play together!"
Lucca kicks again, a bit stronger, and Theo gasps excitedly. Tommy finds it adorable that, no matter how many times Theo feels Lucca kick, he's always as excited as if it was the first time.
"He did it! He answered, Tommy! Buck, Lucca said hi to me!", he tells them, and Tommy can see Evan choking up.
"He did, buddy", he whispers, running a gentle hand over Theo's hair.
"I think he wants a hug! Can I hug him, Tommy?", he asks, and how on Earth could Tommy ever say no?
"Yeah, Theo. Lucca and I could both really use a Theo hug right now."
Theo doesn't need to hear it twice. He wraps his little arms as far as they'll go around Tommy's middle, and presses his head gently against the bump, cheek rubbing against Tommy's T-shirt. Lucca gives another gentle kick.
"He's hugging me back!"
"I think he's saying we need a family hug", Evan says, his voice a little hoarse.
Tommy looks up, and there's a small smile on his boyfriend's face. Evan wraps his arms around Tommy again, carefully making sure Theo is tucked in between them, cheek still pressed against Lucca.
His family, Tommy thinks delightedly, resting his head against Evan's shoulder. He'll take all the heartburn and back pain in the world if this is the reward.
