jealous!tommy + date night - if tommy hadn't ran away after 8x11 and they'd talked (some) of it out. ao3 link
♡
Evan was FaceTiming with Eddie.
Eddie had called, and Tommy had taken over whisking the white wine butter sauce so Evan could answer. He hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t reacted. Eyes on the pot.
Chris was auditioning for a part in a school play, and Eddie was telling Evan all about it. Rambling, really. He was nervous, and understandably so. It was a big deal for any parent. Evan was, of course, full of sweet reassurance and advice for him.
Tommy could’ve waited for their conversation to finish. He could’ve stayed out of the way, minded his own, or busied himself cleaning up the kitchen. The food would stay warm on the stove. It was fine.
…Except it wasn’t really fine.
This was their night. Not best friend night.
Tommy put the whisk down on the spoon rest. He tried not to feel like the world’s most insecure manchild as he reached a decision.
He came up behind Evan and wrapped his arms around him. “Sorry to interrupt,” he lied, hooking his chin over Evan’s shoulder and speaking close to Evan’s ear. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Oh.” Evan made a small sound and huffed a half-laugh. He didn’t shoo Tommy away like Tommy thought he might, didn’t say I’ll be there in a minute. Instead, he leaned back against Tommy’s chest, letting Tommy take some of his weight. “Thanks, babe.”
Tommy smiled. Babe. Well, he’d take that.
Eddie pulled back from the camera. Squinted. “Hey, Tommy! Didn’t know you were there.”
Uh-huh.
Eddie smiled at him. Things weren’t great between them, and it showed in the thinness of his lips, but they were making an effort. For Evan, if not for themselves.
“Diaz,” Tommy acknowledged. The last name thing was a bit petty, he’d admit. His hand splayed, warm and possessive, over Evan’s stomach. Evan’s stomach muscles jumped, his cheeks turning pink on screen. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise.”
It was good to see Eddie. They had been friends. It stung not to be anymore, though Tommy had understood why he’d been ghosted. Tommy wanted to get back to their early camaraderie, eventually. He just wanted Evan to himself tonight more than he wanted that, that selfish beast rearing its ugly head again.
“Tommy and I made ravioli,” Evan explained, angling his phone towards the dirty pasta maker on the counter behind them, the mixing bowl and the open bag of semolina flour.
The bag was still on its side, some of it spilled. They had knocked it over while fooling around. Tommy had lifted Evan onto the counter to kiss him stupid after he’d made a bratty remark about Tommy’s dough handling skills (“I can handle you, though.”).
The table set for two was also visible in the background. There was wine. Tommy had lit candles.
“Homemade pasta? Sounds great,” Eddie said. He looked a little envious. Tommy bet he missed Evan’s cooking. Now that Evan wasn’t at his Buck and call, he had to cook for himself or go to his parents’. “Chris and I ordered a pizza.”
“Nice,” Tommy said, not unkindly. He didn’t say anything else.
Neither did Evan.
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, scratching the back of his neck. “Anyway, I’ll let you two get back to your date. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Tommy wondered if that was the truth, but tried not to let his mind wander further down that path. Making an effort, he reminded himself.
“Call me tomorrow? I wanna hear how Chris’ audition went. And tell him we’re rooting for him,” Evan said, complete with grin and dorky fist pump.
“Of course,” Eddie said.
It eased something in Tommy that Evan didn’t assure Eddie he wasn’t intruding. It was their date. His hands moved to Evan’s hips and squeezed. He gave in to that beast again and made eye contact with Eddie as he kissed Evan’s jaw. Staking his claim.
He let go and went to the stove to serve them, setting their plates on the table and turning on some soft music just as Evan stuttered a goodbye to Eddie.
Buck considers himself what people classify as a "manly man". Not in the way that he owns a gun and thinks women should stay in the kitchen, but in the way that he has a physical, dangerous job and like there's always a voice in the back of his head telling him not to cross his legs or paint his nails that sounds suspiciously like his parents.
Coming to terms with his bisexuality helped to deconstruct some of these thoughts, but Tommy has helped even more. Buck felt completely comfortable with Tommy, and Tommy indulged in his every whim, which meant that when Buck accidentally cried out "Daddy" when Tommy hit directly on his prostate, the older man didn't even slow down.
"Oh god, oh fuck, please can I touch? Please, I wanna cum." Buck begs, practically sobbing, face pressed against the bed while his ass in up in the air, hips held tightly by Tommy's bruising grip.
"Uh-uh, baby." Tommy's voice is breathless, still fucking into Buck's tight ass even as he speaks, the sound of his hips slapping against Buck's ass interrupting his words. "You don't need to touch, I think you can cum just like this."
"I can't, I can't," Buck sobs, panting open-mouthed against the bed, not caring about the patch of drool that was forming there. "Need to touch."
Tommy doesn't think that Buck has ever cum untouched before, at least not with him, but he's good at pushing Buck's boundaries if he thinks it will benefit him. "You don't need to touch, Evan," Tommy repeats, more firmly this time. "You want to be a good boy for Daddy, don't you?"
The whine that comes out of Buck is unlike anything Tommy has heard from him before, but the way that Buck's body tenses and jerks, he can tell that he's tipped over the edge and spurting rope after rope of cum onto their freshly clean bedsheets.
Buck's tensing muscles cause him to clench hard around Tommy's aching cock, and that's what finishes him off, groaning loudly as he spills over into the condom. He lets himself rest gently against Buck's back for a moment before he pulls out and discards the condom into the trash can next to the bed.
He's careful to make sure that Buck has his breath back before he speaks, a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. "So... daddy kink, huh?"
For all the wonderful BuckTommy (or Tevan, or Firebeast-- the best ship name btw /silly) creators that change the canon to where the pair never break up:
1st of all, I love you,
2nd of all, I came up with a wonderful idea to keep one of my favorite things about Buck present...
As we all know, Buck starts a "Whenever I think about texting him, I bake" vice after they break up, right? But this wouldn't happen if they stayed together but this thought just kept popping
What if it was Buck bakes whenever he thinks about marrying Tommy/proposing? He keeps baking to stop himself from spilling the beans of his proposal, sorta thing? Idk, I love Buck unintentionally torturing the 118 with loaves and cakes...
“Howie, this is insane,” Tommy said, bracing his hands on his kitchen island and cracking his neck in a nervous gesture he’d had since he was still human.
His phone, set on speaker, lay on the counter, the four of them gathered around it, while Evan’s familiar perched on his shoulder, her tail twitching agitatedly. Evan stroked a soothing hand up and down his back, his expression just as troubled as Tommy felt. Sal and Lucy had offered no commentary, but he could practically see the gears turning in Sal’s head, and Lucy was on her phone texting furiously–he assumed with Josh or Ravi.
“Believe me, I already pointed that out,” Howie said, exhaustion evident in his voice. “But Tommy…this is getting really bad, really fast.”
“Like it was puppies and rainbows before?” Evan muttered.
“The cipher you found in Jonah’s ledger decrypted the files on the flash drive. We were right; most of it is banking records. Someone’s been paying him for months out of offshore accounts,” Howie continued.
“Did the ledger get to the high coven?” Tommy asked. Del Marco had seemed sincere in her promise to try and get the kill order taken off him and Evan, but if the past few days had demonstrated nothing else, they had shown Tommy that there was something rotten within the upper echelons of witch society in Los Angeles.
To his relief, Howie immediately replied, “Yeah. Also, what the hell happened out there? How did you get Catherine Del Marco on your side?”
“Long story,” Tommy sighed. “Are they listening to her?”
“That, I don’t know. She’s been in a meeting with three members of the high coven and Athena for almost two hours, now. Everyone seemed pretty agitated when we presented the evidence we have.”
Tommy exchanged a loaded look with Evan. Yeah, Tommy would just bet they were agitated. “All right, back to Gerrard. In what world is letting him know we’re onto his deal with Ortiz a good idea? Let alone expecting him to help somehow.”
It was Howie’s turn to sigh. “Dude, I know. Believe me, I know. But this Ortiz woman is dangerous. Half the high covens in the western US have been looking for something they can use to either get her out of power or get her declared for execution.”
Tommy exchanged an incredulous look with the rest of his coven—his coven with Evan—and then stared at his phone in disbelief. “She’s working with Vincent Gerrard to siphon witch blood to the most powerful vampire coven in the Los Angeles metro area, how is that not enough to get her declared for execution?!”
“Tommy, all we have connecting her to that is your word and the word of a banished witch. The ledger tells us Jonah was responsible for those other witches’ deaths and someone was paying him off, but we don’t have names. We’ve got people on it, but even with Jonah’s cipher, we’re still chasing these bank transfers through the computer. It’ll take a while, and the high coven is worried that Ortiz will go to ground and hide her involvement once she figures out her goddamn henchmen are dead. We’re working against a very short deadline here, man.”
“Howie, whatever the high coven thinks involving Gerrard will accomplish, I promise you it’s not worth it.” His stomach turned at the thought of allying with Gerrard for any amount of time. It would be like inviting a fox into a henhouse to help protect it against wolves.
Beside him, Evan tensed, his hand on Tommy’s back stilling. When his gaze shifted to his witch’s face, Evan was staring at him with a worried frown. For just an instant, Tommy swore he could feel the warmth of a palm pressing down on the scar that decorated his ribs, the scar that Evan’s magic had marked him with a twin of. The strange, tugging connection he was only starting to understand as their coven bond flared to life in his head and heart, Evan’s…presence…suddenly surrounding him. He could feel Evan’s concern, his worry for Tommy and how even speaking about Gerrard was stressing him out. More than that, though, he could feel his witch’s support. His trust in Tommy. The bone-deep certainty that no matter what, Evan would back his play. It was reassuring in ways Tommy didn’t really have words for. Evan’s hand left his back and his witch silently held it out towards Tommy, smiling softly when Tommy immediately took it, lacing their fingers together.
He didn’t want to do this.
He was not a fool. If people found out what the coven bond forged between him and Evan allowed for vampires before they were prepared and ready to defend themselves, it would be catastrophic. Gerrard had been willing to risk the truce of the witches and vampires in LA for the power of witch blood—what would he do if he thought Evan could give him back the sun? The thought of Gerrard being anywhere near his coven, his witch…it made Tommy want to drop his fangs and roar.
But nor was he willing to just stand back and let Ortiz continue to operate unchecked. Howie was right, however much Tommy didn’t want him to be. Ortiz needed to be dealt with, and Gerrard was definitely self-serving enough to turn on her once he realized she had been planning to double-cross him. Enemy of my enemy, he supposed.
“I can get him to meet me,” he said reluctantly, his voice leaden and wary. Evan’s fingers tightened around his, the worried frown on his face deepening. “But we play it my way. No arguments. You don’t know him the way I do, Howie.”
“I don’t know if Athena will agree to let you run point, man,” Howie said, and recalling Athena Grant’s commanding presence, Tommy understood the doubt in his voice.
“She’s gonna have to,” he said, looking from Sal, to Lucy, to his witch. “I don’t think my history with Gerrard is a secret in this city. You’re asking me to paint an even bigger target on my back. On Evan’s back. And just trust that the high coven isn’t going to keep gunning for us while we do it. You follow my lead or you find a way to get Gerrard to listen to you on your own.”
He heard Howie suck in a breath. “Is…is Buckley still alive?” he asked quietly. “Del Marco said—I mean the way she was talking, he sounded bad off.” Tommy was surprised by how genuine the relief in Howie’s voice sounds; he’d been under the impression that Evan’s death wouldn’t have made much of a difference to the average witch.
He swallowed, his eyes tracing over Evan’s face—still pale and pinched, his eyes dull with exhaustion, but there was color in his cheeks and the aura of his magic blazed around him like a bonfire, not the weak, guttering candleflame it had been only a few hours ago. “He’ll live,” he said, not wanting to go into the details of exactly how that had happened.
“I—good. That’s good to hear, Tommy,” Howie said, and sounded like he meant it. “So, you’ll get in touch with Gerrard?”
He exchanged a final look with his coven, noting Sal’s grim frown and the stubborn tilt to Lucy’s jaw. They didn’t like the idea any more than he did, but they would back him the same as Evan would. He closed his eyes briefly. “I’ll handle it,” he said.
And tried to ignore the way the words felt like a trap closing.
* * *
Evan could feel his vampire’s dread growing with every word that Han spoke as he outlined the high coven’s plan to try and pit Gerrard against this Ortiz person who had apparently been pulling the strings the whole time. Tommy hid it well. The only sign of the fear Evan could feel coursing through him was a slight tightening of his jaw, a tensing of the muscles under Evan’s hand as he absently stroked his vampire’s back. But the coven bond—new and tentative, but already so strong—sang between them. Tommy hated the idea of working with Vincent Gerrard with every fiber of his being.
He didn’t know if Sal and Lucy were feeling it as strongly as he was…their presence was more muted in the bond. Still there, still part of his coven, still part of him, now, but it felt more like the bond he’d shared with members of the Buckley coven that he rarely saw. Perhaps that would change as they got to know each other better, but something told him his bond with Tommy would always be the strongest and brightest as their coven grew. Judging by the increasingly concerned glances Sal was shooting Tommy, the other vampire either was feeling his trepidation or knew enough about Gerrard to be just as worried as Tommy.
There had been no time over the past few days to really delve into their pasts—shared visions and binding spells aside—but Evan could extrapolate just based on the few things Tommy had said. Not to mention his own brief encounter with the kind of man Vincent Gerrard was. He didn’t like the picture that was forming in his mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was much they could do about it, unless Tommy could come up with a better plan. They couldn’t just stay out of it. Even if the high coven did back off and leave them alone, the vampires would still be after them. Ortiz was still trying to start a coven war.
LA may not have been his home, not really…but he didn’t want to see coven war erupt here. He didn’t want it to happen anywhere, but especially in such a huge city, with such large vampire and witch populations. It had the potential to be disastrous. For both their kinds.
They couldn’t stay out of this. He thought his vampire knew that, too, but he was willing to play this however Tommy wanted. He would follow his vampire anywhere. He met Tommy’s eyes when he looked at him, trying to convey that truth just through the coven bond. His vampire’s hand tightened on his before he heaved a heavy sigh, and promised Han he would get in touch with Gerrard.
The silence that hung in the air after Tommy hung up was heavy as lead, an almost physical weight pushing down on them. Tommy ground his teeth together, his eyes flashing red for a bare instant before he visibly reined himself in. “Luce, you and Sal need to get up with Alonzo and Mehta. They need to know what’s going on.”
Lucy nodded grimly, then cocked her head, a hesitant expression crossing her face. “All of it?” she asked carefully.
Tommy pressed his lips together, and Evan felt his stomach drop. Ah. That was an important consideration, wasn’t it? Evan was not naïve…as soon as word got out of their coven bond, of what it could do, there would be a target on their backs that made the high coven’s kill order look like a speeding ticket. If Sally was right, and the existence of covens like theirs really was what had led to the Annihilation…
He would be in more danger than he’d ever been in his life, and not just him. Tommy, Sal, and Lucy as well. People—vampires and witches—would look at his coven, his miraculous, wonderful, impossible coven…and want to destroy it. Or worse. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of someone like Vincent Gerrard or Olivia Ortiz thinking that he could somehow give them the ability to walk in the sun again.
For the moment, I think you’d best keep this amongst yourselves. At least until this situation is fully dealt with, Sally said, leaping from his shoulder to the island. She sat down and curled her tail around her feet, regarding their joined hands with an impassive look for a moment before focusing on Evan. You are not fully recovered, Evan, I shudder to think what the vampire covens in this city might be willing to do to try and take this power. And truthfully, I don’t know that the witches would be any better.
“Will they be able to tell?” Tommy asked, his voice sharpening.
Sally hesitated, her golden eyes narrowing as she regarded them both. I’m afraid I just don’t know. Evan is skilled at hiding the true extent of his power… Here, Evan smiled softly at the familiar sour note that entered Sally’s voice. She’d always hated the way he tried to shrink himself for his parents’ comfort. Always hated how necessary it was. But there’s no hiding that his magic is recovering too fast for anything but the aid of a coven bond to be responsible. Between the two of us, we should be able to dampen his aura enough that only someone looking for a coven bond should be able to sense it. She tilted her head, a familiar twinkle entering her eyes. That will, of course, require that you formally accept me back as your familiar, little love.
A tidal wave of emotion swept through Evan, a lump rising in his throat that he had to swallow away twice. “Please,” he whispered. “Sally…Sally please.” His voice was choked and raspy, a wet edge of tears to it, but he didn’t care what he sounded like to Tommy and the others. Sally’s absence had been a gaping wound in his heart for the last five years…only the silence where his bonds with Maddie used to be hurt more. He hardly dared to believe that it could be healed, that Sally would want to bond herself to him again. It was almost overwhelming.
Tommy seemed to sense the storm in his heart—either through the coven bond or simply because his vampire already knew him that well—and leaned over to press his lips against his brow, right over his birthmark. “We’ll give you some privacy,” he murmured against Evan’s skin. “You should probably go lie down anyway. I’ll wake you up when we have more of a plan.”
Evan could only nod. As much as he wanted to be involved in every aspect of what was going to happen, he was not any kind of needed voice of expertise on the vampire covens in LA. Tommy knew Gerrard, knew what would be the best way to approach him, the best way to protect themselves and their coven. He trusted them. Besides, he could tell his was coming to the end of whatever boost Tommy’s blood had given him—his vampire had saved his life, and the coven bond was rapidly replenishing his magic, but he had still been dying only a few hours ago. And it had been a long night before that.
Evan was fucking tired.
He leaned against his vampire briefly, winding his arms around Tommy’s waist and just holding him a moment, before reluctantly stepping back. “Keep me updated,” he said, watching as the three vampires made their way back out onto the porch, a smile tugging at his lips when Sal immediately bounded out into the sunlit yard, Lucy following close behind. Some of the tension eased from Tommy’s shoulders as he proceeded after the two, tossing a fond smile at Evan as he closed the front door behind him, leaving Evan and Sally alone.
He isn’t wrong, Evan. You should rest while you can—if you like, we can wait and reform the bond later ton—
“No!” he protested immediately. “No, please, I don’t want to…” Sally stood up on her hind legs and planted her paws on his chest, her tail lashing back and forth as she reached up with one to bat gently at his face, interrupting him.
I do not wish to be parted from you for one moment longer, either, little love, she said, the surety in her voice like a balm to his soul. Since he was ten years old, Sally’s calm presence had been one of his guiding stars, one of the constants he could depend on. Just as much a True North for him as Maddie had been. It seemed impossible that he would be able to have that back…and yet it was happening.
He had lost everything when he was banished, and now he was gaining back so much.
Receiving so much more than he had ever dreamed of.
He scooped Sally up and let her climb onto her accustomed perch on his shoulder, the familiar weight of her just as comforting as the timbre of her voice. He made his way back down the hallway towards the bedroom, not bothering to turn the lights on or open the blinds before he sat down on the mattress, scooting back against the headboard and tucking his legs up so that Sally could settle directly in front of him.
“You...you’re sure about this?” he couldn’t help but ask one final time, some tiny sliver of him still unable to believe that Sally had really given up her entire life in the Buckley coven just to follow him. That she would be willing to throw in with vampires just on his say-so.
As she always had, Sally seemed to understand what he was thinking. I will not say I am entirely thrilled with the notion of being coven-bound to vampires, Evan, she said carefully. Nor will I say I was happy to find what was waiting for you on the other end of the tethering spell. But I trust your magic, little love. I trust you. If the spell chose Kinard for you, and you for him, then I believe it is in service to your highest good. He’s not bad…for a vampire. Interesting, at least. Do you believe you will be happy with him?
“Yes,” Evan said immediately. “I-I know that’s crazy. I mean—we only met a few days ago! But…it feels right, Sally. For the first time in my life, I feel like I know who I am. Where I’m supposed to be. And it’s here. With him.”
Sally was silent, her eyes brimming with so much love and affection for him that it made Evan’s breath catch in his throat. That is all I want for you, Evan. All I have ever wanted for you. She flexed her claws into the comforter, a teasing lilt to her voice when she said, Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve found it in the most unconventional source possible. You’ve always managed to surprise me.
Evan laughed, the last of his fears and doubts melting away like snowflakes under the noonday sun. And with that joy, relief, and newfound surety coursing through him, he spread his palms wide and called up his magic, murmuring the spell he had used only once in his life, when he was ten years old. His power bloomed between them, the white light of witch magic filling the room, growing infinitely brighter when Sally’s voice joined his, her own magic bursting towards him with just as much effervescent happiness.
He closed his eyes against the sting of tears when he felt the bond weave itself whole again, Sally’s magic, her presence filling the empty place in his heart and mind that he had carried for the past five years. Sally’s magic blended seamlessly with his, another piece of him that he’d thought lost forever clicking into place, another wound closing, another jagged, broken hurt inside him healing. The bond snapped into place, warmth and strength and connection flowing through him. His familiar.
His familiar.
My darling boy, Sally sighed as the light of their magic faded, the bond settling into a warm glow in the back of his mind that he had never thought he would feel again. How I have missed you, Evan. She pushed her head against his hand and he bent forward over her, breathing as the bond settled into place. He buried his face in her rough fur the way he had when he was a child.
And for the first time in years, it felt like being whole again was no longer an impossible dream.
