liquid courage and a support system
Bucktommy | 2.8k | Rated mature (no smut) Entry for the @bucktommywinterfest, round 5 Dec. 29 - Jan. 4 prompt: Midnight kiss a/n: this is an idea I got from this exchange here. Again, I suck at titles so please bear with me. There will be a follow-up smut chapter to this, that I will post for a Bingo challenge. And then next week's prompt for the Winter fest will be the following conversation in the morning. Oh and apparently Sal's wife's name is Gina (saw someone say that in the tags and I liked it).
Main Masterlist | Winter fest | AO3
“Buck, hey! What’s-”
“Eddie!” Buck shouts his name through the phone as soon as he hears his voice. He takes a giggly breath before proceeding; “I’m at a bar downtown with Lucy. Remember Lucy? When you-you quit working with us? Anyway, she told me to go out and have some fun!”
“That’s nice, Buck. So, are you having fun?” There’s a silence after Eddie’s question while Lucy tries to say something from a few feet away, and Buck remembers he’s on a phone call he initiated;
“Hey Eddie, Eddie,” he says, suddenly serious. “I need your help with something.”
“I’m sure that’s why you called.”
Buck bites the insides of his cheeks, second-guessing for a moment until a member of the 133 chimes in and convinces him to go through with the plan. They’d all been sitting around some nachos for an hour, the members of the 127 whining about Tommy’s attitude since the break-up and the 133 chipping in that there had to be an explanation to all of it. In the end, they took Buck’s side of the story, even Lucy, and he knew he hadn’t been worried for no reason.
“I need to go see Tommy before midnight.”
It’s a quick conversation after that. Eddie makes sure Buck knows what he’s doing because if Tommy hadn’t been vocal about the situation to anyone, he might not react so well to being pressured, mostly not tonight of all nights. Despite his friendly advice, Buck insists and convinces Eddie to pick him up and drive him there.
Which he does, thirty minutes and another round of Tequila later.
When they drive onto Tommy’s street, Buck turns the radio off to unscramble the speech in his brain that he intends on giving to maybe, very hopefully, get Tommy to have a conversation with him. At the very least, they both need more context and if Tommy had an actual reason to stay away, Buck would comply. But Lucy was honest when she said she saw a change in Tommy’s demeanor and it wasn’t for the best.
Buck takes deep breaths that contrast the chill December air. His window is starting to fog and Eddie notices.
“There’s still time to turn around, man.” Eddie offers, and Buck shakes his head. He’s gotta do this. For the both of them.
“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” Buck rubs his hands onto his jeans - the tight blue ones he remembers were Tommy’s favourites. The same jeans he wore on the night- Buck shakes his head.
Yeah, he really needs to talk to Tommy.
The house looks a little different, and in his current state, Buck can’t really tell why. The grass is a little longer than usual, but that’s not it. Tommy was never a fancy landscaping guy so the hedge and small bushes are the same. New roof? Nope. Then Buck’s eyes fall onto the bright red, 2019 Charger parked in the driveway and his brows bend with curiosity. Did Tommy have that bad of a crisis that he made an impulsive (and expensive) decision?
Ha! Buck silently laughs to himself now. Ironic.
Eddie catches the change in energy and tries to comfort his friend; “I remember he told me he was thinking of getting a more recent sports car because working on classics was becoming expensive.”
“But he loved his truck. I loved his truck…” Buck whispers, reminiscing over their short trips and the laughs they shared eating take-out and watching planes take off at Burbank. It would make sense though, that Tommy would get rid of such a big piece of them.
Once the truck is parked by the eye-sore, Buck nods and thanks Eddie for driving him over, saying that he’d catch an Uber back to his place if Eddie got called while on his stand-by shift. He jumps out of the truck and wills himself to walk to the door, takes a quick look at his phone.
It’s eleven forty-five.
There are a few seconds too many after his first knock and Buck goes for another, impatient. The door swings open instantly this time. The comforting smell of the house drafts out, bringing up a wave of emotions. His eyes open and with that Buck loses the smile he had put on.
“Can I help you?” There’s a tall, broad man on the other side of the threshold, but it’s not Tommy. The features are similar though; blue eyes, dark hair, muscles all over and a nose that would crunch up on his cheek during a kiss like Tommy’s did. Buck opens his mouth to speak but;
“Who is it, Sal?” Tommy shouts from inside. Sal. What a stupid name.
Sal turns around to tell; “Some random mook”. Then his piercing gaze falls back onto Buck; “You’re bumming out our party. The fuck you want?”
“Um, well-” There are so many scenarios running through Buck’s mind that he forgets everything he needed to say. Tommy’s already got a date? Sure, it’s been over a month and he had his own opportunities, but Buck was convinced Tommy would be alone moping, or at least working an extra shift tonight (Tommy is not a big holiday guy, Buck had found out when he suggested they took the same days off to celebrate). But he’s already found another man to spend his spare time with and the man is gorgeous and not so different from his own physique that Buck can pass it off as an experiment.
He thinks maybe that Sal guy had been there all along. That Buck was in fact the experiment and he’d fallen into the trap. Let the man feed on his naiveness and use his inexperience as some weird superiority kink.
Well, fuck, he thinks. If he’s going down might as well put all the cards on the table and play the game.
“I-I need to talk to Tommy. We have a conversation to have.” Buck straightens up, using the little ounce of alcohol that didn’t coward out of his body to stand his ground. “He should be with me tonight.”
The man laughs as he realizes who he’s talking to, and it boils Buck’s blood.
“You? You’re the reason I had to pick Tommy off the ground?” Sal slaps his knee and looks over inside the house again but doesn’t speak. While he does so, Buck scans him over, looking for a weak point. He’s not above fighting this with his fists - remember the alcohol? - but the man could slam dunk him one-handed.
“Oh, that’s rich,” Sal adds with a deep hum. He looks Buck up and down. Bites his bottom lip. “I guess I can see it. Tall boy with the curls and puppy eyes. I would have been all up in there as well. Worth the heartache.”
“The fuck you mean?” Buck’s hands are forming into fists in his hoodie’s pockets and he’s turning the same colour as the hideous car parked behind him. Which he now understands is this prick’s belonging.
“Boy, listen. Tommy had a good run with you, but I’m here with him now. He doesn’t need to take your hand and walk you everywhere like a lost child anymore.” Sal walks back and starts closing the door but Buck’s hand is quick to stop it.
“I’m sure he didn’t mind that. You should have seen his face the first time I called him daddy. Fucked me for three days straight, something you probably can’t keep up with,” Buck spits, the taste of the statement burning like bile on his tongue. He can see surprise spread across Sal’s face, before he retorts.
“I’m the top, baby. Tommy lets me do what I want with him. And his whimpers are delicious.” Buck knows. Buck’s been on the giving end of those whimpers, and if Tommy was honest with him, he was the first one to bring him there, and-
“Maybe I can show you how to make him cry your name too.” Buck’s inside the house now, backing Sal into the dresser as they go about fighting this like bulls. He goes on to say more arrogant shit that he hopes will fall into the right ears and grant him points. Even if deep down he knows this is childish and stupid and wasting him some precious time.
“That didn’t make him want to move in with you, did it?” Sal sends the final straw as he rubs his chin evilly.
Buck’s eyes land on Sal’s hand and his stomach drops. He looks at the ring on his finger and his mouth falls open, speechless. There’s a stinging feeling of defeat cutting through his entire being, like he came all the way here for nothing. Like the last months were for nothing.
Before Buck can either fall to his knees in sobs or turn around without a word, a feminine frame comes into view and the woman circles an arm around Sal, a big diamond decorating the hand that’s running up his chest. She looks up at him, the stern expression across her face making him check his posture, and suddenly Buck’s even more confused than he was.
“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy,” she says and pulls Sal back to the living room by the hand.
Buck looks over to his right and he feels like passing out.
*
“He should be with me tonight.”
Tommy freezes in place, takes a step back to hide behind the dividing column between the living room and kitchen as if this wasn’t his goddamn house. He takes a deep breath, looks over at Gina on the couch and makes a face: that’s him, he mouths. She giggles at his frightened composure. He’s too drunk for this.
Hearing Ev-, Buck’s voice triggers emotions he thought he had drowned deep enough with holiday cheer; shame. Regret. Love. And now all he wants is to run out, pull him into his arms tight enough until they fuse together and he can never lose him again. But the conversation has taken a turn and Tommy… Well, Tommy enjoys what he’s hearing. His body goes slack when he hears Buck fight for him. Everything he’s saying is true and he wants to prove it again. Fuck, he misses him.
He’d have a conversation with Sal later about the things he’s saying to rile him up. Slap the back of his head for good measure because Buck could have run off and Tommy’s not sure he’d have the courage to go after him and pick up that mess on top of the one he created, but for now, he chuckles and lets them ‘fight’ over him for the sake of the show. When Sal pulls out his last line though, Tommy’s expression drops and Gina darts past him before he can will himself to take a step. She defuses the bomb.
“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy.” He watches as they walk back into the living area and he meets Buck’s eyes.
He has very little time to make a decision and he probably looks like a deer in headlights. He wants to be cool and composed. Make Buck believe he’s got his life together and that leaving wasn’t the dumbest thing he did. But his baby is standing there in his house and he hates how uneasy he seems. Tommy closes his eyes and breathes in, looks at the stove on his left.
It’s eleven fifty-seven.
“Come in,” he says, barely loud enough to hear himself say it. He has to wave Buck in, and his heart skips a beat when he agrees and closes the door. Tommy turns to the fridge and gathers two beer bottles, even though their systems could do without. It’s a habit, getting something for Buck, because ‘love languages’ or whatever. And old habits die hard.
“Let’s talk on the patio,” Tommy adds, pointing with the neck of the bottle. Buck follows willingly, a faint smile spreading over his face. Tommy sees him look at Sal and Gina sitting hip to hip on the couch and he realizes he has some explaining to do, but as they walk behind the couch, Sal reaches back and pulls Buck by the hoodie.
“Sorry kid but you know I had to test you. You seem alright,” he says. “Don’t fuck up your chance though. I know where you live.” Buck looks at Tommy with worry and Tommy waves his head ‘no’ in reassurance. The room lights up in chuckles and Buck joins them, eyes watery nonetheless. Then Tommy’s gaze lands on the TV and he sees the countdown go by on the broadcast downtown. Seven, six, five, four-
Panic takes over him and when he turns to look at Buck, he’s met with the exact same questioning look. He should have had more time before this. At least say hi properly and get to the apologies first. But Tommy raises his brows and Buck nods with a shaky exhale. Then their lips collide in a clumsy but oh so perfect kiss.
The angle is awkward and this should be a quick peck, but they stay like this for several more seconds, both their hands just hovering around them not quite ready to cross a line.
Happy New Year! The TV chants, and they pull away. The scene mirrors that of their first kiss; Tommy pulls back with his eyes closed, scared that if he opens them then the nightmare will come back and Buck will be gone. But when he pushes himself to do so, Buck is standing there, a tear falling onto his cheek and he’s holding his breath, mouth agape and his eyes search deep into his soul.
Tommy’s ears are ringing but it’s not the fireworks outside. It’s the beating of his heart that’s threatening to fall out of his chest. And he listens to it, grabs Buck’s neck and pulls him back in. The second round is hungry, determined, and the beers have been set on the couch console in favor for their hands to roam freely across charted territory. Tommy finds his favourite dip at the base of Buck’s back, his other hand still wrapped around his Adam's apple. His body shivers when he feels two strong hands run up his front until they settle onto his chest for a light squeeze.
It’s raw and meaningful and unbothered, until someone clears their throat.
*
“I’ll set the dishes in the sink. The leftovers are stored away, but I’m leaving with this amazing fruit cake,” Gina says with Sal in tow.
“W-wait, I didn’t mean to stop you guys, I-”
“Kid, if Lucy hadn’t convinced you to come here before midnight, I would have personally driven mister lonesome here to your place.” Sal loves the moment everything clicks in Buck’s mind and he shoots a look at Tommy who’s turning red. “We were just keeping him company until then.” He winks.
Buck stands there speechless, a little dumbfounded but the smile on his face could light up the city. Tommy also had a plan. The same plan, as it turns out, mastered by the same minds. His dick twitches in the god awful tight jeans knowing Tommy wanted to fight for him. And maybe from the taste of Tommy lingering on his lips.
“Well, we’ll be on our way. Be safe!” Gina adds before gathering their stuff and heading for the door. Sal stops to give Tommy a hug and whispers something to him, to which Tommy nods in agreement.
“And you!” Buck goes cross-eyed looking at his finger. “Don’t be too comfortable being ‘whatever’. Put labels. Be happy that you can do that now. Let people know Tommy’s your boyfriend, whether you’re gay or queer or,” he stops and makes a hand gesture for Buck to finish.
“Bisexual,” he answers.
“There. It’s easy to say, huh? Let people know. Who ever gives a fuck shouldn’t be in your life anyway.” With those wise words, Sal walks past him and out the door. Buck almost starts liking the guy before the roaring of the Charger vibrates through the house and he remembers he could probably never deal with that ego. Tommy seems to notice the disgust on his face and laughs.
“Talk?” Tommy points towards the couch this time, but Buck takes a step closer and brings his hands to his hips.
“You took tomorrow off?” Tommy nods. “Then tomorrow.”
Buck pushes Tommy back against the counter and attacks his mouth again. That would satisfy him, really. Kissing the love of his life in his house. This is what Buck should have emphasized during their last conversation, he thinks. But there’s little time for thinking when Tommy starts undoing his pants and moans obscenely into his open mouth.
“I’ll spend the night on my knees if you ask me to, baby. Don’t worry,” Buck whispers, smug. God he missed this. He runs his hand down the front of Tommy’s pants and tears burn his eyes at the contact with his engorged dick.
“Evan,” Tommy begs faintly.
-
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