#firepilot

[kinardsevan]

if you ship bucktommy in any form, can you like/repost this?

I’m trying to see something.

[dandelioncasey]

New chapter of the interludes fic is up - I've been picking away at it for months now, but I managed to beat the writer's block and get a huge chunk of it done a couple days ago (in a possessed sprint at around two in the morning lmao) - just in time for the TevAnniversary!

If you wanted to take a crack at the puzzle Tommy is doing in this chapter, here it is! And if you were wondering whether this is just a thinly-veiled attempt to see if people will go reread the entirety of both fics and try to catch all the hints I scattered throughout...what are you, a cop? 😅

Fair warning for spoilers if you have a go at it before reading the chapter; completed version with answers is under the cut!

1) My nickname for you

2) The film that made me ugly cry into one of your used shirts

3) The weird ingredient I convinced you to put in your coffee

4) Your favourite time of day

5) I look for this when you’re at work

6) Your nickname for me

7) Where you saved my life

8) You still owe me lessons!

9) Your favourite film (which we’ll find time to sit down and watch one of these days!)

10) Your sexiest hobby

11) Where we first met

12) How long I want to spend with you

13) We’re building it together – you, me, and the pups

14) What Bobby said you were

[kinardsevan]

you know what’s interesting to me? as a fandom with the finale coming up, there seems to be this idea sold that in order for Tommy to be involved, he has to be in a helicopter. but one of the things I keep thinking about is like…. he is still a firefighter. who says he couldn’t be working ground crew? who says he couldn’t be off-duty in one of those vehicles? we assumed we knew what Tommy drove based off of season 8, but it turned out to be Buck having gotten a truck.

tbh, I can’t make heads or tails of what’s coming. for all we know, the prop helicopter was rewrapped to shoot flashback scenes of them inside, talking. but like…I’m just saying. sometimes the path is not the one most travelled.

[kinardsevan]

How are your thoughts after the last episode?

I was weary of them just not touching on Buck's love life anymore and him finishing the season single, but yet again when Buck gets a plot, the focus is on him thinking about his future and them reiforcing he wants to settle down with someone.

Unless Tim shits the bed, I have a feeling we're heading towards a positive outcome by the end of the season.

I’m so late on responding to this, but I do still have hope. It really depends on how he handles the trauma/possible addiction that may come from what’s happened.

I’ve never really given up on the hope of seeing Tommy return. I think there’s something to be said about how lauded Lou is over on The Pitt, and honestly if that’s not enough to tell Tim he needs to lock that shit down *now*, then I don’t think he can be helped. This is a guy who’s finally gotten in front of a wide enough audience on an Emmy-nominated show to draw serious attention in his direction. And I’m not saying Tommy main at this point, bc I can fully see offers being shot in his direction very quickly.

But I do think there’s very much an option there (given that we know that Lou does in fact care about Tommy as a character and what he means for television audiences), for him to have contracts similar to TT. Give him 5-6 episodes a season, one or two with really meaty stories, and allow the relationship to grow, while also allowing him to pursue other projects.

Of course, he’s also welcome to sign on with 911 if he really wanted to full time… but I do think he’ll likely have better options offered to him now, and part time to be better.

That all said, I’d be very sad to lose Tommy. I stand by the fact that the show will not get another LI who will be as good for Buck as Tommy was/is. The care and work that Lou puts into his characters is a testament to that, but I think there’s also something to be said about the way he and Oliver work together in this space. And as crappy as we complain about 911 becoming, I can’t fault OS for staying when he’s the male lead at this point, and it’s a guaranteed paycheck as long as he wants to keep doing it.

That all said…. In a dream world, they’d do Air Ops and treat it and OG the same way that shondaland did with greys and station 19. Have the the shows intermix, have Buck and Tommy on both, and still tell great stories.

Fuckin do it, ABC. The money and the options are there. AND THE PEOPLE WANT LOU AS A MALE LEAD.

[unclean-hands]

Sight To See

-> I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea, so I just want to put out a warning here that Buck experiences sexual pleasure while in a regressed headspace. <-

Tommy is good for Buck— everyone says so. What they don't see is how good Buck is for Tommy, especially when he lets him take care of him. It settles something in his chest that no one could ever understand.

Buck allows Tommy to love him, protect him and care for him while he gets to give up control completely, something he desperately needs. That's why when they have days off, Tommy sets up Buck's play area.

Tommy lets Buck slowly sink into his little space with a sippy cup of juice, a Disney movie and sitting in Tommy's lap. When he feels all the tension leak from his boyfriends body, he rocks him gently and slips an adult sized pacifier in his mouth which he starts to suck softly.

"There's my sweet boy," Tommy hums happily. "Don't have to worry about anything now, hm? Daddy will take care of everything."

Buck tips his head up to look at Tommy, his eyes slightly glazed as they always are when he slips. He leans his head against Tommy's chest, not willing to let go of his pacifier to speak. The only noise that comes out of him is his stomach rumbling which makes Tommy chuckle.

"Is my little boy hungry? You stay here and play with your toys. Daddy will make you a sandwich." Tommy smiles and presses a kiss to Buck's forehead and then slides him off his lap before getting up.

With Tommy disappearing into the kitchen, Buck is content to just play with his toys in front of the TV. It isn't long, however, before he feels his diaper grow warm and heavy in between his legs. Glancing back toward the kitchen, Buck thinks about telling his daddy that he's wet, but then he feels his dick twitch against the wet padding and it makes his stomach swoosh with pleasure, so instead, he crawls into his princess tent that his daddy got him.

Feeling much more protected in the closed walls of his castle, Buck lays down on his stomach, rolling his hips into the soft, bunchy pillow between his legs. He couldn't help the soft little noises of pleasure that pushed through his lips.

When Tommy comes back from the kitchen with the sandwich on a plate complete with a small pile of chips, he frowns. Buck was nowhere to be found. "Buck?" He looks around, pausing the movie when he hears a soft rustling sound. In the quiet, the sound becomes louder. He can hear the rusting of the small tent and the soft noises that his boyfriend is making.

Tommy steps over to the tent and pulls back the little curtains at the front, his eyebrows lifting at the sight before him even as Buck freezes. "Hi baby. Whatcha doing?"

"Playin'"

"Yeah? Does it feel good when you play like that?"

"Uh-huh," Buck nods. "Makes my tummy feel tingly."

"That's good," Tommy smiles softly. "It's okay for you to feel good like that and you're a very good boy for finding a private space like your tent. I'm glad you feel good baby. Can daddy watch?"

Buck seems to ponder this question for a moment, his head tilting to the side. "Okay, but only daddy."

Tommy nods. "Yeah, only daddy. You're all mine and I love it when you feel good Show daddy how good it feels."

Slip Your Tip In 😈

[kinardsevan]

hold me (like it's the first and the last time)

here, have a reunion fic bc i have feels now.

In the end, it doesn’t happen because of their shared occupation. They don’t work the same scene or volunteer for the same event. There isn’t a run-in at the grocery store because Evan needs more flour, or because Tommy is looking for the perfect bottle of Chianti. 

No, instead they end up meeting at the cafe—the same one they made up after their failed first date—because Evan finally picks up the phone. 

It’s interesting. After almost a year of no contact, it should feel like lightyears have passed. They should exist in different realms, somehow adjacent to each other but separate. The way it feels when you see someone you haven’t in a while, and you realize that although you miss them, you’ve moved in separate directions, and it’s all been for the best. 

Except that it doesn’t feel that way it all. After ten phone calls in two weeks, and at least three thousand text messages, and had asked Tommy if he wanted to finally meet up, to see one another in person, and not just keep it going over the phone. 

“I’m curious,” Tommy had asked when they’d had to reopen their calendars to one another. Apparently he’d busted his last phone getting out of a chopper a few months back, and even though everything “transferred over”, it didn’t actually, because technology. “Is this how you did it with Abby?” 

Evan had laughed at him at the time. Because part of all the talking on the phone included having conversations they should’ve had well over a year ago.

“Kind of,” he’d admitted. “I uh, didn’t want to fall into bed and make choices based on prior habits instead of actually getting to know her. So, yeah, I guess.”

That conversation had led to another, which led to another, and then days had passed and the only thing on Evan’s mind regardless of where he was, was where Tommy was and how he was doing. They were constantly in-step with each other, texting to check in. On day eight, Evan had a cough from the tiniest bit of smoke inhalation, and Tommy sent him soup to the firehouse from their favorite bistro. 

On day ten, Evan left coffee on the pilot’s doorstep on the way to work…even though Tommy’s place was eight miles out of the way from his new house and the 118. 

Still, day sixteen is when they finally see each other’s faces again. 

On one hand, Evan feels a sharp twist of pain at the fact that the last time he remembers laying eyes on Tommy was the day before Bobby’s funeral. They still haven’t talked about yet—how Tommy had gotten him home after Bobby’s death, and was there with him in the days after, never pushing for anything or expecting. If anything, Tommy had almost been ambivalent to anything between them, and when Eddie had arrived back in LA, he’d seen his way out. They hadn’t spoken at the funeral because Evan was trying to hold it together for everyone, and after that…well, there weren’t great excuses on either side. 

Evan had fallen into his grief somewhat, as Tommy had expressed as much that he should. When Evan had tried to call him after Eddie decided to move back, Tommy had told him he needed to process the loss take some time. Even though hindsight said Tommy was right, at the time, he’d been pissed. He’d admitted as much when they finally got on the phone again. 

But then, Tommy smiles at him with that smile—Evan’s smile—and it washes the pain like a balm. They’ve talked about all of this, and talked it through. There’s no ill will on either side now. Everything is new and fresh. 

“How are you,” Tommy asks when they’re settled in their chairs. 

“Good,” Evan responds with a nod. “I’m- I’m good. What about you?” 

“Good,” Tommy responds, mirroring him. “Things are…good.” 

Evan watches Tommy as he talks, listens to him. The thing about spending the last two weeks talking only on the phone is that it forced him to really listen to Tommy; to hear the intonations in his voice. To know how the lilt of a laugh at the end of a sentence was him trying to self-deprecate, or how a too-long exhale meant that he was trying to push down the weight of something. How the slightest sniff meant he was crying, but he’d never let on about it. He’s learned more in the last two weeks about the man across from him than he did in their prior six months together. He knows how to hear the smile in Tommy’s voice when he’s talking about something he loves, even if he doesn’t say those specific words. 

“I’m glad we decided to meet today,” Evan states, shifting his coffee and croissant to the side of the table. Tommy nods, peeling the lid off of his cup to sip from it. He hums affirmatively at the taste before putting it back on and setting the cup aside. For a minute they just sit in each other’s presence, staring back at one another. 

For as much time has passed, it feels like he should look different. And he does in some ways, Evan supposes. There’s a little more gray in Tommy’s stubble and in his fade around his ears. He’s a little bit leaner, but not by much. He still has enough meat on him to let Evan know he’s eating, not giving in to the stress of the world around him and then working it all off at the gym. 

But it’s not that that catches Evan’s breath. 

It’s the way Tommy is more relaxed in his presence; the way his shoulders are settled, and his eyes are even softer. Like all the walls he still had up have finally come down. 

“Me too,” Tommy replies. The corners of his mouth lift just slightly—that fond smile mixed with the adoration beaming at Evan from his eyes. It’s like the warmth of a summer afternoon on a slightly overcast day laying in the grass. He’s not overheated or cold; he could curl up and fall asleep in it knowing he’s safe. 

“So,” Tommy says after a few more seconds. A smirk pulls on his face and something about it makes Evan feel like he should duck. “Heard anything more from…Zane and Jane, was it?” 

Evan cringes. “I never should’ve told you about them.” 

“I think it’s hilarious,” Tommy replies, letting out a laugh. 

“How was I supposed to know!?” He flinches a little at the pitch of his own voice, but Tommy just continues to grin at him, clearly fond. “And so we’re clear? No. I’ve blocked them both in my phone.” 

“But they know where you live,” Tommy comments, reaching for his coffee again, narrowing his eyes at Evan just slightly before grinning again. 

“Yeah, well…” Evan’s eyes skate across the table before finding Tommy’s again, and when they lock, warmth blooms through his chest again. “My bed’s no longer open.” 

Tommy just keeps staring at him with those eyes. A year ago, that look would’ve had Evan twisted up, ready to tear his clothes off and jump into bed with the other man, caught up in the passion and heat. 

And granted, he definitely still wants to do that. He wants Tommy to tear his clothes off, throw him into bed like he weighs nothing, and spend hours taking him apart. 

But he also wants to be naked in other ways. He wants to talk about the things that no one else sees, and the look Tommy gets in his eyes when he talks about his mom, and the scar on his hip that even Hen and Chimney don’t know about. He wants to disappear into a space where it’s just the two of them, side-by-side, talking about the dark things and the light things. He wants to make an inventory of every spot on Tommy skin, and every crack in his heart, and flood both with so much gold that when Tommy looks back at him, he only sees daylight. 

“I’m just around the corner,” Evan says a while later, as they pass around the side of the cafe back onto the street. Tommy’s fingers are in his, and he feels a calm inside that he hasn’t felt in so long. 

True to his word, it’s only a few blocks, and when they make it back to Evan’s new place, he gives Tommy a proper tour before they end up in the kitchen. Evan is pressed into the corner between two counters with Tommy’s hands bracketing him while the pilot trails kisses along his jaw. 

“Thanks for letting me back into your space,” Tommy murmurs, grazing his teeth against the hinge of Evan’s jaw while the younger man’s fingers tangle in his hair. Evan turns toward him, and Tommy glances down at his lips before their eyes meet. Their faces are close enough together to feel the other’s breath. 

“Thank you for being honest with me about all your secrets,” he responds. “And for being patient when I wasn’t ready to hear them.” 

Tommy keeps looking at him with those eyes, and then he finally leans in and kisses Evan as the younger man loops his free arm around the back of the pilot’s neck. Tommy pops him up onto the counter, deepening the kiss as Evan’s legs loop around his body. It’s been five seconds and a million years since they did this last, and the way his heart is settled in his chest tells him there’s never going to be someone or something different from the way this feels. 

When they finally part, Evan stares at Tommy with that fond expression, watching the pilot take the extra second before his eyes open again. He works his fingers through Tommy’s curls again. 

“I love you,” he comments softly, smile still on his lips. He’d scream it from the rooftops if it pleased the other man, but he knows that’s not Tommy’s style. “So much.” 

He suspects that if this had been a year ago, Tommy would’ve looked at him like he was nuts, or would’ve been so spooked that he would’ve run in the other direction. But the resoluteness about the way Tommy has come to him now ebbs through him still. There is no panic, or flinch to pull back. There’s no urge to get away, or tempered breath to calm himself, followed by some placating speech meant to let Evan down easy. Tommy just continues to look at him the same way he has been. His bottom eyelids redden, and his eyes get glassy, but instead of looking gutted, he looks happy. 

“I love you so fucking much, Evan,” he responds just as softly. Evan pulls him back in, kissing him slow and wet, learning every inch of Tommy’s mouth again.

He meant what he said. His bed is no longer open, because it’s full now. Someday soon, he believes his home will be, too. This time won’t be like last time, because he knows this is the last time. Because they could both also be right. 

Tommy had been right to say he was Evan’s first. But Evan also knew he was right to say Tommy is his last. 

[hmg621]

I was reading a list of all the full moons for this year and apparently July 29 is gonna be a "buck moon" and I just needed to spread that awareness

[kinardsevan]

here's a riddle for you, find the answer (there's a reason for the world: you and i)

ahem. hollanov/skip hockey brainrot goes in. bucktommy nfl/football comes out. enjoy.

-

There’s a thing that happens in the final play of the Super Bowl. For a man on the bench, time slows down to a glacial pace, and every second on the clock feels like an hour. Every twitch of a finger by a one of the players on the field is a chance of things going sideways, if you’re the team that’s about to win, or a folly that will ultimately lead to loss if you’re the team trying to pull off a miracle. And then of course, there have been the few games that were tied at their endings, meaning every twitch carried twice as much weight. 

But then, there are also games like today, where the score has bounced back and forth, never tied, but both teams have led and trailed. 

Currently, there are seventeen seconds left on the clock, and Tommy’s team is in the lead by three. They don’t need to pull off a miracle, but instead just milk the clock down to nothing. The other team has used all of their time-outs, the last one having just been used. Which really means, Tommy only has one problem. 

With seventeen seconds left, he has a choice to make. His team is on their fourth down with one yard left to convert into a fresh set, so he doesn’t want to really throw the ball and risk fucking up with the game so close to being locked up. However, they’re too far from the end zone to attempt to score, and if they don’t convert, they’re too close to the other team’s end zone that if they fail to convert, the other team will be close enough to tie the game and send it into overtime. And then there’s the fact that the other team’s blitz has been kicking ass for most of the second half of the game. 

So he can’t throw the ball, but he also can’t fail to convert into a fresh set of downs. But also, there’s definitely a retired football player sitting up in a booth somewhere in the stadium telling the people watching at home the odds of him being able to convert this play and put a dagger in the game. 

And he has the next four seconds to decide. 

“Alright, this is what we’re gonna do.” 

— 

The ball snaps, people shuffle. The ball leaves his hands, and he’s slammed into turf almost immediately after, and then the crowd roars. Seconds later, cannons fire confetti into the air, and it all happens before Tommy manages to open his eyes back up. Still, when he does, there’s a smile on his face. He can’t hear what anyone is saying past the decibel of roars around him, but soon enough, Sal is at his side, offering him a hand up. Tommy takes it and lets Sal yank him up, fully leaning into the tight hug from the older man. 

Sal wasn’t supposed to be here. Except, he’d been asked to come back eight games into the season when a linebacker got hurt. He stopped playing two years ago, ringless and never assuming something like this would happen. Two days from now, he’ll re-enter retirement, except now he’s almost guaranteed a Hall of Fame spot, given the two touchdowns he connected with Tommy to make in the second and third quarter respectively. 

“Holy shit, man,” Sal yells into his ear. Tommy can barely hear him, and he can’t stop laughing. He’s a little hysterical, he thinks. “We actually did it!” 

Tommy nods as he keeps laughing. His gaze trails along the filling field and sideline. Howie “Chimney” Han, their head coach, is wrapped tight in a hug with one of the athletic coaches, Hen. They’re both crying and smiling. Tommy laughs as he watches a group of wide receivers rush at them. Hen steps back just in time to watch Howie get doused in Gatorade, which makes him both scream and laugh. 

When Sal pulls away, he knows that the other man has spotted his wife and kids. He pats his best friend on the note shoulder and tells him to go celebrate as he continues taking the moment in. Blue and yellow confetti continues to drift down over them—the color of the Los Angeles Pilots—and a few drift down into his hand as he uses the other to pull his helmet off. 

There are people still shuffling about the field. Coaches are shaking hands, hugging. Other players are sharing anecdotes. He spots Melton talking to Sal and Gina twenty yards down field in the shuffle of two crowds of people, no doubt talking about going on vacation together after Melton announces his own retirement. 

On the other side of the field, much of the other team has dissipated. Some are still seated, processing the moment, while others are gathered in a circle, clearly taking a moment. The sea of black, yellow, and red is still common enough around the field that it takes time for him to spot 18. But then, the moment he spots the other man scrubbing a hand through his unkempt curls, Tommy is locked on him as his feet start carrying him forward. 

Because the thing is, everyone around him is surrounded by the people they love, the people they care about. And although what he’s about to do would be frowned upon by so many people—would even be shot down as something reasonable to do in the current political landscape—he doesn’t care. He shuffles past people as his teammates continue to celebrate around him, as he hears his name called by reporters who are at least ten feet behind him, and photographers who are most definitely trying to get the first photo of him saying how he feels after such a momentous win. And that’s all great, but it’s not where his focus is currently. 

When he finally reaches Evan and rests a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, it only takes a nanosecond before the younger man spins toward him and their blue eyes lock. Evan’s expression is somber, but he manages a small smile at Tommy anyway. 

“Congratulations,” Evan tells him, and Tommy knows he means it sincerely. Evan extends a hand toward him. “Well deserved. Nobody’s a bigger fan than me.” 

Tommy smiles back at him, heartened by the words Evan uses. He knows they have cameras on them, that there are likely commentators saying all kinds of things about being cordial to a fellow player, following such an important game. 

He leans over into Evan’s ear, but Evan speaks into his before Tommy can. 

“How does it feel?” 

Tommy lets out a laugh. “Amazing. The best. And incredibly lonely.” 

He’s quiet for a moment as his eyes scan the people on the other side of the field. Some fans are still up in the stands, clearly intent on staying through the entire celebration. Others are shuffling out towards the tunnels while others gather in groups and chat—Tommy guesses those are probably family and friends of players. 

“And I don’t want to celebrate alone,” he comments, using his helmet to block anyone from seeing what he’s speaking to Evan. When he pulls back, Evan meets his gaze again, clearly trying to ensure he did actually hear Tommy say what he just did. He opens his mouth, but words are dead inside his mouth. Still, Tommy gives him ample time to understand what he means. He waits until Evan nods, and when he leans back in, Evan tilts his chin up. 

When their lips meet, Tommy isn’t exactly sure how it happens, but suddenly 113 decibels all to zero, because the only thing he hears is the sound of his own heartbeat, and all he can feel is Evan’s hands on his hip and cheek as the younger man’s tongue slides into his mouth. 

Regardless, he doesn’t need to be able to hear what are at least twenty reporters acting as though they’ve gotten the breaking story of their careers—and lets be honest, he did just hand it to them—because this isn’t about them. It’s about him and Evan. 

When they finally let the world fade back in around them, people are clamoring about. Reporters are asking half a dozen different versions of the same questions over one another as hands clap against their shoulders from fellow teammates. 

There will be comments, opinions, and a million other reactions to come out of this decision. But Evan pulls him back into another kiss, and any care Tommy might’ve had about the rest of the world knowing how he feels about the other man, no longer matters. 

When they finally part for good, Evan leans up into his ear again, curving a hand around his mouth to block the others from being able to see. 

“I’ll stick around after the press conferences.” 

“I’ll find you before we go for dinner,” Tommy responds. He knows Evan will be facing the fallout of his own team’s loss, but he also definitely wants the younger man with him tonight, if Evan will have him. 

Evan finally slips away from him, and a hand curls around his elbow, pulling him off in another direction. He doesn’t even need to look to know that it’s Sal, moving him quickly away from the reporters. 

“I’m no publicist, but you’re not talking to anyone tonight,” Sal laughs as he shoves Tommy toward where the celebration stage is still being set up. “And Pannikar is already pushing Buckley toward the tunnels.” 

“Oh thank you, our saviors,” Tommy laughs back at Sal as the other man shoves him slightly. 

“Super Bowl was really the place you wanted to do that,” Sal asks him as they shuffle through a crowd of teammates and their families. More people are clapping Tommy on the back, congratulating him. He’s not sure if it’s because of the win or because of the kiss, but he doesn’t really care. 

“Why not,” Tommy asks with a smirk. Sal’s eyes drift up and then back down quickly as his smile falls away. Tommy looks up and spots Vince, the team’s old owner. He’d be more concerned if he actually cared anymore what Gerrard thought. But ever since Bobby bought them out a few years back, it’s become a much more inclusive environment, and Bobby has known since shortly after his purchase about Tommy’s sexuality. Granted, Sal and Bobby never really saw eye-to-eye, which was half the reason for Sal’s early retirement. 

Sal glances back up at him. “You really don’t care what Gerrard thinks anymore?” 

Tommy snorts. “He’s here as a courtesy. And he’s not getting a finger on my trophy.” 

- - - 

It’s an hour later when Tommy finally makes it across the stadium, freshly showered and dressed in a black sweatshirt and navy jeans, having promised Sal that he’ll meet him at The Musket Room shortly. He and Evan are breaking all kinds of rules tonight, but he can’t find it within himself to care. 

Still, he doesn’t stand directly outside of the visiting team’s locker room, but instead about a hallway’s length away. Slowly men drift down the hall, some of them waving and congratulating him on their way past. Tommy nods at them, his jersey still in hand as he waits. 

Ten minutes later, Evan finally exits the locker room with his duffel bag on his shoulder, and his jersey in his free hand. Tommy smiles at him, and there’s a slight hop in Evan’s movement as he draws closer. When he finally reaches Tommy, the older man turns them into an adjoining hallway, pressing Evan against the wall and kissing him fervently. Evan hums into his mouth, wrapping a hand around the base of Tommy’s skull. 

“That’s a nice way to be greeted,” he murmurs when they part again. 

“I think I earned it,” Tommy responds when he finally steps back and leans against the opposite wall. Evan smirks and nods. 

Seconds spin between them quietly, briefly, before Evan clears his throat. 

“As agreed,” he states, lifting his jersey up in Tommy’s direction. Tommy smiles, raising his eyebrows just slightly. 

“Of course,” he replies. They swap jerseys—something they’ll both be fined for, but is also so common that it’s a slap on the wrist—and he stuffs Evan’s jersey into his bag before zipping it up. Evan does the same, and then Tommy stands up straight again before reaching out and taking Evan’s hand. The younger man laces their fingers together, and they reenter the main hallway. Tommy leads them off toward the direction of the home team’s parking area, where Bobby told him he’d have a car waiting for them. 

“So what’s for dinner?” Evan asks, bumping his shoulder into Tommy’s. 

“A menu so obscenely expensive that my mom would never let me hear the end of it if she were still alive,” Tommy answers, blushing. He lets out a little laugh and then glances back up at Evan. “Thanks, for joining me. I know that for as much as this night is good for me it’s-..” 

“No,” Evan tells him, shaking his head. “I mean, yes, the loss hurts. We’re all limited on how much time we get to play, and my leg doesn’t help any of that. But this…this far surpasses that. I-I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Tommy. I just want to celebrate with you.” 

Tommy nods, squeezing his hand three times in quick succession. Evan bumps his shoulder again, and then lets Tommy continue to lead them through the stadium. 

When they’re finally in the SUV left behind for them by Bobby, Tommy scrubs his hands over his knees, looking over at Evan. 

“Anyone say anything to you after?” He asks. 

Evan shakes his head. “No. But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before rumors start. If they’re dumb enough to think I’d throw a game this close to having to bow out because of my leg, then whatever.” 

“You saying you wouldn’t throw a game for me,” Tommy asks. When Evan looks up at him, Tommy is smirking at him. 

Evan leans over, his lips just short of the other man’s. 

“You’re hot and all,” he comments as his gaze trails down Tommy’s body and then back up. “But between the two of us? No.” 

Tommy’s grin widens. “Good. That’s the only way I’d want it.” 

“What makes you think I’d ever be crazy enough to risk letting you think I let you have a win over me,” Evan replies. “I’d never hear the end of it in bed.” 

“Damn straight,” Tommy states. “But on that subject, you should tell the reporters that.” 

Evan snorts before pecking Tommy on the cheek and settling back into his seat. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”