Expanding Chapter 1 - Home
a Buck and Tommy teen adoptee fanfic
Rated: T | Words: 3,577 | CW: None (this chapter) | On Ao3
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Evan and Tommy decide to take the plunge to adopt kids. They discuss it between them, with Evan stating that he wants a baby. Tommy goes along with it, wanting whatever will make Evan happy. During the whole process, Evan keeps it in his head that they're going to raise a child together but when it comes time to choose a child, they're drawn to seventeen year old troubled teen Branson Rodriguez. Something about him speaks to both men. Branson is a broken child just looking for a place to settle and has a lot of trouble trusting others. He's used to being looked down on and tossed aside and he expects these two queer men to treat him just the same. Adults have never taken the time to dig deep and find the root cause of all his issues so why would Buck and Tommy? This is a story about finding a place to belong, and the love it takes to heal a broken child's heart.
Seeing as I stole the (general) idea from @bookbeautywashere 's ask to @champagnetommy , I want to thank them for the inspiration.
“I… Think we should have kids.” Evan says one late, Tuesday evening as he cleans up after dinner. His head is bowed slightly as he scrubs a pot lid.”I know we’ve never really talked about it but… I’ve seen how you are with Maddie and Chim’s kids.”
Shifting in his chair, Tommy picks up one of the random knick knacks Evan decorated the table with specifically so they would always have something to fidget with. He remains quiet, studying his husband's back until Evan turns to him, blue eyes wide with hope. Shifting again, he leans forward and hums softly. They really hadn’t ever talked about it; Tommy wasn’t opposed. He just hadn’t ever seen the opportunity to do so presenting itself. “We’re… getting a bit old don’t you think?”
At that, Evan snorts. “Only by number.” He turns back to the sink, shoulders curling in on themselves. “It’s just a thought. Seeing my sister with her kids, and Hen and Karen with theirs… I dunno. Sometimes it feels like the house is just… Too quiet.” Heaving a sigh that lifts his shoulders he mumbles a moment later, “But I get it. Just, forget I asked.”
Well that wouldn’t stand. Rising to his feet, Tommy edges around the table, languid as a cat, and wraps his arms around Evan’s waist, pulling him until his back meets Tommy’s front. Taking a deep breath, Tommy buries his nose against Evan’s neck, pressing the most featherlight kiss he can imagine as he says, “I didn’t say no, Evan. I just… Babies are so fragile and I’m…”
“Kind? Nurturing? Caring?” Evan supplies without looking at him, choosing to instead pick at a particularly stubborn piece of food clinging to the lip of the lid. “You’d be such a great dad, Tommy. I know you would.”
Tommy’s grip tightens as he closes his burning eyes, making sure that Evan can’t see the way those simple words are affecting him. He spent most of his life being told that he was worthless; that he was broken, and wrong, and that no matter what he did, people would always run for something better. Yet, here was this man - this perfect, beautiful, man - choosing to stay at his side and asking to build a future with the two of them. Together. A pang grips his heart but he swallows it down. “Thank you, baby. That.. means the world to me.” Evan tilts his head and rests it against Tommy’s for only a moment. “You know, you’re the same. Any kid that gets to call you dad would be the luckiest kid in the world.”
Evan rolls his eyes, Tommy feels it. “Heh. Yeah, right. I doubt that.” There’s some bitterness there, but they’ve talked it through time and time again. It’s a part of Evan that may never heal; a part of him that believes he’ll never be enough. Tommy loves that part of him, too. Enough to erase all the naysayers of years gone by.
“Well, regardless of what you think. If you want to consider kids, why don’t we sit down and talk more about it later? Tonight I think we should cuddle up on the couch, watch some dumb movie we can’t stand, and then go to bed where I can -” He whispers something into his husband’s ear that turns his pale skin crimson and makes Tommy’s own pants tighten.
Clearing his throat, Evan sets the finally clean dish in the drying rack and turns in Tommy’s arms so they’re face to face. With that little smile that’s just for Tommy, he murmurs, “Yeah. I think that can be arranged.” They share a kiss before breaking away to go do just that.
Months and months pass. They spend endless hours talking with Hen and Karen about the process; Karen was so patient explaining the ins and outs of the ordeals, and Hen gave so many details about what agency they used and the different options they had.
Evan spent hour after hour after hour online, researching. He discussed each option endlessly with Tommy, and even though Tommy thought Evan was overthinking it, he listened with rapt attention because… Well.. He wanted this to be perfect for them. For his husband. When they eventually settle on an agency, they get to work finding a birth mother.
They discussed whether they preferred a boy or a girl, but decided it didn’t matter. Evan wanted a baby, though, and Tommy would have rather had a toddler to start with. After talking it over, with plenty of reassurances from Evan, they decide to go the infant route. The giddiness sets in.
A few weeks into the process, their agent mentions a home visit. “Evan and Tommy, I’m so glad that you’ve decided on adoption. There’s so many kids out there that deserve loving homes and you two seem like an amazing opportunity.”
Evan smiles so broadly at the phone that his cheeks look like they’re about to split. Tommy takes one of his hands and brings it to his mouth kissing his knuckles before settling it back on the table. “We’re so excited, Emira. This… I… We’ve been waiting a long time.”
There’s softness in her voice when she replies, “Yes, I can imagine. I know you two have already started searching out potential mothers, but before we get too far, we need to discuss a home inspection.”
“Home inspection?” Tommy asks, raising his brows. He knew that was something that happened, but he thought that was only for those who planned to strictly foster. “Why do we need one of those?”
She laughs brightly. “No need to sound so alarmed, Mr. Buckley-Kinard. We’re not there to white glove your home and inspect every single nook and cranny of your space. No. What we’re there for is to ensure that you two have the proper environment for raising children. Obviously we’ll do a walk through of the home, but there’s no need to do any extra cleaning before we come - we want to see what the child’s environment will be like day to day - and then we’ll sit down and have a conversation about the two of you; mostly what you do for work, what your relationship health is like, do you have a support system, and things of that nature. The day of the in-home visit, you’ll need to block off a minimum of two hours, though depending on the size of your home, it may take significantly longer. I, personally, would suggest taking the day off since the home visit can’t be split into separate days. You’ll also need copies of some personal data, such as your birth certificates, but we can discuss that close to the day of the event. Does that all make sense?” She pauses, a bit breathless but still cheerful.
Evan huffs an overwhelmed laugh. “Wow, um… That’s a lot.” Tommy rubs his back. “So we can’t pick a mom until after these visits? How many do we have to go through?” The conversation continues as Tommy continues to be a reassuring presence at Evan’s side.
A few more months pass, and Tommy can tell that his husband is losing steam. He wants a child so badly, but there’s so many hoops to jump through. They survived the home visit, though they were questioned extensively about their jobs. Both of them being in high risk professions put up red flags for the interviewer, but once Tommy explained that he mostly flew air transports, she seemed to be assuaged and passed them. Flying colors they were not, but at least they weren’t blocked before they even truly began.
Then, of course, there were the training classes they were required to take. Some of them they hadn’t needed to attend because they had the certifications through work, but there were a number of them they both had to find time to sit through, trying their best to work around their busy schedules. Their agent was a godsend during that time, helping them navigate the ins and outs. Neither man realized that they would need to actually get their foster license, even if they were only intending on adopting.
Things are feeling hopeless, and each time Tommy looks at his husband, it’s like the light behind his eyes dims a bit more. One night, as they’re sitting together on the couch, Tommy’s arm wrapped around Evan’s shoulder, staring at the laptop on the coffee table - there’s another informational video about what to expect as foster parents, one of the final three they have left to complete their hours - Tommy pauses the video after hearing Evan sigh for the fourth or fifth time. Evan blinks at him in confusion, a slight frown on his lips. “Why’d you stop it, Tommy? We need to get through these.”
Tommy reaches over to brush a stray curl falling into Evan’s face and says, voice soft, “I know, hun. But I can see you flagging. This process is really taking it out of you and… I just felt like I should check in with you and see if this is still what you want.” The younger man opens his mouth quickly, ready to argue but Tommy presses a finger to his lips. “Yes, I still want kids, but I don’t want you so stressed out about this that it takes away your joy. Whether we choose to proceed or not, I’m happy with whatever you decide is best for you.”
Evan’s mouth closes slowly and he drops his eyes, He begins picking errantly at his cuticles and falls into deep thought. Tommy allows him, staying silent as he allows the man to process. As much as he loves him, Tommy knows that he often jumps headfirst into situations without always thinking them through, and he thinks that this is a trap that Evan has once more fallen into. While Evan’s research skills are great, he likely romanticized the process and let some of the big things pass through one ear and out the other. For example, just how lengthy this process can be.
Using the hand at the end of the arm wrapped around Evan’s shoulders, Tommy strokes his hair, yanking gently at his curls every once in awhile just to keep him in the present, as he can sometimes get a little lost in his head. After a long, long few minutes of silence, Evan looks up with a new determined glint in his eyes. “I want this, Tommy. I haven’t wanted anything so bad since I realized I wanted you. I… Maybe jumped into this without having all the facts, but I’m committed. I want kids. I want us to expand our family.”
“Even if it doesn’t happen for months?”
“Even then.” He shows Tommy a timid, yet slightly flirty, smile. “If only I was the one who could give you babies.”
Tommy’s grin turns feral, all his teeth showing as he leans in and breathes, allowing them the distraction, “I mean, I can always go ahead and try. Who knows. We might just be surprised.” He nips Evan’s earlobe between his teeth, eliciting a pleased shiver.
Their training video will always be there later.
FInally, they make it through the training and their agent lets them know that it’s time to start looking at possibile children in earnest. Evan’s been bouncing in his seat for days. They decided to meet at the agency. Although the database is online, they want to be able to ask questions as they pop up, and their agent, Emira, is excited to be a part of the process.
At the office, she leads them into a conference room where she sets up a laptop for them and shows how to filter for results. “We have kids of all ages right now, but I know you and your husband are looking for babies or younger toddlers. I have a phone meeting that I need to attend, so I’ll be leaving you to it for the moment. If you have any questions while I’m gone, just let the secretary know and she can guide you to someone with answers.” She smiles warmly at them as she opens up a program where she enters her credentials. A moment later, a page of images opens up, showing some somewhat grim faced children with tiny smiles.
Tommy’s heart can’t help but swell as he looks at the adorable faces, their smiles interrupted by missing teeth, or their chubby cheeks covered in light colored freckles. At the same time, his heart breaks as he contemplates why the kids are here. Obviously not all of them are here due to negligent families, but it’s rarely a good reason that a child was in foster care. Pulling Evan close to his side, needing the comforting contact, he looks to Emira and nods. “Thank you. I think we’ll be good for now.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be back in after my meeting. Please, take your time. There won’t be much public information about each child but once you’ve decided, we’ll go in depth and set up a visit with the child.”
“Will it be a visit here at the agency or is it something done at home?” He asks for clarification.
“If you decide to foster them, we’ll hold the first meeting here at the agency. After that, I will personally bring the child to your home and we’ll host a second meeting there with the intention of moving the child in. And I don’t mean to be rude, but I do need to get to this meeting.”
“Of course. Apologies.” Tommy nods in deference. “We got this.” She smiles once again before turning on her heel and waving as she glides out the door, footsteps silent.
Evan is vibrating in his arms, giddy like a puppy. As soon as Emira is out the door, Evan’s hands are on the laptop and he’s scrolling slowly down the page. He clicks on every single profile and examines every image for every single detail. Like Tommy, his expressions falls as the reality of each child settles in, but there’s still a palpable level of excitement.
Tommy doesn’t know how much time passes. He’s stroking his fingers through Evan’s hair a little mindlessly as he relaxes back in the chair, one leg crossed over the opposite knee. They’re nearing the end of the page, the scrollbar almost invisible, when Evan’s body goes rigid. This draws Tommy from his daydreaming, not that he was uninterested in this process, but his husband was far more fastidious than he was in his choosing methods, and he looks over at him. “What’s up?” He rakes his fingers down Evan’s scalp before wrapping his hand around his neck and giving it a gentle squeeze.
His eyes are glued to the screen. Tommy follows the direction of his gaze and on screen, there’s a boy that looks to be about sixteen or so. Sitting up straighter, Tommy reads what little information there is about him.
Branson Rodriguez. Seventeen years old. Entered the foster system at thirteen. A native California resident. Tommy studies his picture; his young face is hard, and angry, his dark brown eyes glaring at the camera as though he’s reluctant to be seen. His copper skin is smooth, with few blemishes, though Tommy thinks it has more to do with lucky genetics than anything the kid’s done. Branson’s jet black hair, dark enough it almost appears blue, is thick and wavy. The sides are shorn to the skin leaving a strip of hair along his scalp. What’s left is cut long and flops to one side, touching the tip of a rounded ear. There’s a small beauty mark under his right eye. From what Tommy can see, the t-shirt the teen is wearing is worn thin, the neckline ragged and loose. It could possibly be a fashion statement but could also be from no one buying the boy the clothes that he needs and it was simply worn out. A gold hoop hugs his left nostril and there’s three to five piercings in each of his ears, including a silver industrial.
“I…” Evan hasn’t looked away from Branson and when Tommy glances at him, he sees his husband swallow hard. The energy shifts. But Tommy remains silent. Evan scrolls down the page and lets out a soft whine. “Tommy.”
“Yeah, babe?” He gives Evan’s neck another reassuring squeeze. When Evan turns to look at him, his eyes are a bit misty and there’s something clearly on his mind.
He opens and closes his mouth a number of times as he searches for what to say. After a long while, he manages, “I know you wanted a toddler. I know I said I wanted an infant but…”
“But?” Tommy sits up straight, putting both feet on the floor and giving Evan his full attention. He has a feeling he knows where this is going and a part of him prays it is. Because he feels it, too. A pull.
Clearing his throat, Evan’s blue eyes drift back to Branson’s picture. “He needs someone, Tommy. I think, maybe, he needs us. And it’s not like we couldn’t adopt another kid later on, ya know? I know you’re worried that we’re getting too old, but we’re not that old and I mean… He’s seventeen, Tommy. He’s about to age out of the system, and he doesn’t have any support.”
“Yeah, I did say that. We are getting older, but we’re pretty fit. We’re healthy. I think I may have misspoke a little bit. When it comes to Branson, what are you saying?” Saying his name feels so natural on Tommy’s lips. His heart lit up looking at this kid; their stories are nothing alike and yet Tommy feels like they’re the same. Both of them needed someone in their corner. Tommy hadn’t had that. Buck had had Maddie until he didn’t. But this kid? This kid still has a chance to be looked after; to be loved; to know what having a family that loves him unconditionally is like. “I also just want to remind you that I’ve never been dead set on a toddler. There’s plenty of families looking for little ones. I’m not all that worried about denying a toddler the chance for a loving family.”
Just as Evan is about to reply, Emira appears at the door. “So, how’s the search going?” She asks, walking around the table to look down at the screen. When she sees who they have pulled up, her smile diminishes a bit. “I thought you two were looking for a younger child?” She asks. Her tone is even, but Tommy bristles at the hesitancy he hears.
“Well. We were but…” Evan looks at him for confirmation and he nods. They’ve already decided, without further words, that Branson is theirs. “Something is telling us that Branson is meant to come home with us.”
She nods slowly as she folds her arms across her stomach, nibbling a little at her bottom lip. “I see. That’s exciting to hear but I do feel the need to… be upfront with you about Branson.” Tommy says nothing, just raises an eyebrow at her, waiting silently for her to continue. “He’s been with our agency since he was thirteen. Since then, he’s been placed in six homes and has been returned six times. He was returned to us just three months ago from his most recent placement, and we’ve run out of fosters willing to take him in.”
“Why?” Evan asks, both curious and sharp.
Emira sighs and leans her hip against the table. “As you know, most of our fosters come to us with trauma. Branson is no different. Unfortunately, he was more than old enough to have a lot of memories of his birth parents and the environment he grew up in. Because of that, he’s continued to act out in protest, using violence and misbehavior as a shield.”
“Has he hurt other kids in the homes?” Tommy furrows his brow.
The agent shakes her head, “No. Never. In fact, he’s really sweet with the younger kids in the group home. But when it comes to any sort of authority figure his hackles go up and they don’t come down. He can be extremely mean and his words can be quite… Venomous. Obviously I want all of our kids to find their forever homes, every child deserves that, but Branson is nearing adulthood and has chosen to be independent since the moment he arrived on our doorstep. I would never discourage a potential family for him, but there’s a lot of things you need to be aware of should you choose to proceed.”
Oh how that resonated with Tommy. He’d been forced to be independent; been forced to put up all kinds of walls to protect himself and had spoken many harsh words to others just to keep all extra eyes off of him. He knew what it was like to feel alone in the world but still needing to protect his peace. He and Evan’s eyes met and for the second time that day they have a wordless conversation between them. It seems that they’re in agreement; in their heart of hearts, Branson is already theirs.
“We understand.” Tommy firmly states, clamping a hand on Evan’s shoulder as the other man nods his head. “We’d like to know when we can meet him.”