Here I am with my entry for Day 2 of BuckTommy Mpreg Weekend! @bt-mpreg
I unfortunately don't think the continuation of this, which was meant to be my entry for day 3, will be ready in time, but even if it isn't, I'll post it during the week, cause it's almost finished. This got way longer than I intended it to be, but I kinda like how it ended up!
I hope you enjoy it! I've had a lot of fun writing it! ♥
Thank you @typicalopposite @agentpeggycartering @moonydanny and @unhingedangstaddict for hearing me ramble about this idea and help me to shape it! You all are amazing! 🩷🩷🩷🩷
Tommy isn’t exactly thrilled about being stuck on ground support duty at Harbor Station, but one fainting call to a small bakery changes everything.
OR
S1 Tommy meets just-back-from-Peru-and-pregnant-Buck and is completely charmed by him.
[Read on AO3]
As a general rule, Tommy is never particularly excited when he is assigned to ground support; after all, the whole reason why he transferred to Harbor was because he wanted to be in the air again. It feels powerful, being in the open sky, in a way even the most adrenaline-filled calls couldn't. However, it does happen once in a while, especially on a day like today, when two of their usual ground crew called in sick.
From what they hear from dispatch, he won't even be very necessary; it sounds like it's a medical call. However, once their truck stops by a small cozy-looking bakery, Tommy jumps down, ready to make himself useful if he can.
Inside, the bakery is tastefully decorated with plants and, weirdly enough, a bike on the wall. However, the effect is slightly ruined by the faint acrid smell of something burning and the thick smoke in the air.
The kid leads them through the bakery's public area and straight into a small but neat kitchen. The first thing Tommy notices is the thick smoke coming out of the oven, and he rushes to turn it off before they have a fire hazard on top of the medical emergency.
And speaking of which, the medical emergency itself is quite evident. There's a man lying on the floor, a dish cloth behind his head, and he's looking at them with with widened blue eyes, dazed but startlingly bright, and Tommy feels a jolt low in his stomach before training kicks in. The kid has knelt down by the man's side, and Lopez, the paramedic who's the acting captain for the day, asks Tommy to assess the situation while he and Jacobs, the other paramedic, sort through their kit for an IV hydration bag.
"Liz", the man groans weakly, looking around, probably taking in their uniforms and realizing who they are. "You called 911? You didn't have to"
"Yeah, well, you scared the shit outta me, dude", the blue-haired person, Liz, answers, completely unapologetic. "It's not every day your favorite baker simply passes out in the middle of their kitchen"
The man looks like he's about to argue, and Tommy decides to take matters into his own hands before he gets himself worked up. He kneels down by Liz's side, trying to put on his best firefighter smile. She gives him the necessary space, stepping away to the back of the kitchen.
"Hello, sir", he says in that soothing tone he always uses during a call, giving the man a hand to help him sit up. "I'm Tommy and we're here to help you. Can you tell me your name and how you're feeling?"
"It's Evan", the man answers distractedly, his hands immediately wrapping around his middle which, Tommy realizes, is slightly rounded. "Is… Is my baby okay?"
Ah, so he's pregnant; the paramedics rapidly shift approach, and Jacobs kneels down by Evan's other side, her stethoscope already in her ears.
"I am sure your baby's fine, Evan, but can you lift your shirt so I can check on them? How far along are you?" She asks gently, and Evan nods meekly, raising his shirt.
"Fourteen weeks. I… I don't know what happened", he says, looking from Jacobs to Tommy while Lopez attaches the IV saline bag to his arm. "I was working just like usual and felt dizzy all of a sudden. I'd have sat down, but there was no time"
"Well, the baby's heartbeat is perfect, which means they're probably fine", Jacobs reassures him, and his shoulders visibly sag in relief. "Was the dizziness your only symptom? Have you been having an easy pregnancy so far?", she asks while attaching a BP cuff around his (quite muscular, Tommy can't help but notice) arm.
"Yeah, pretty much. I had some nausea in the first weeks, but not so much anymore. I've just been really sleepy, which doesn't work out so well for a baker." He says with a shrug, and Jacobs nods. They all fall silent for a bit while she measures his blood pressure, and Tommy keeps a reassuring hand on Evan's shoulder.
"Hm, your blood pressure is definitely on the lower side. Have you eaten at all this morning?" Jacobs asks shrewdly, and Evan has the decency to look contrite.
"I, hm. Had a cup of decaf and a muffin", he mutters, and when that earns him a glare from all three firefighters, he blushes. "I wasn't hungry!"
"Well, then, I'm betting you fainted from low blood sugar. You're getting some nutrients from the IV, and definitely needs a good meal, but I think you'll be fine" She declares while putting her equipment away. "We should still take you to the hospital to get checked out, though, because of the baby"
If Evan was planning to argue, it's clear he gives up the minute Jacobs mentions the baby. He runs a thumb over his bump, almost unconsciously, and nods.
"Yeah, let me just…" He starts saying, and then he gasps. "Oh my God, the cookies! They're ruined, aren't they? This recipe took me so long to get right!", Evan practically whines, and Tommy can't help but chuckle at the adorableness of him worrying about the cookies right now.
"Yeah, they're looking more like charcoal than cookies at this point", Tommy tries to joke, and he does manage to get a weak smile from Evan which he counts as a victory. "But hey, you can always try again, cookies can be replaced. Worry about you and your little one for now, okay?"
"Yeah, you're probably right", Evan concedes, and then gives the softest smile to his small bump. "Sorry that I scared you, little one. I definitely didn't mean to"
Tommy swallows hard at the tenderness in his voice, something in his chest twisting. He smiles without meaning to, and when Evan notices and smiles back, it’s like being punched softly in the heart.
Get a grip, Kinard, he scolds himself softly as an unwelcome blush takes over his cheeks. The man is pregnant, for Christ's sake.
Tommy takes a deep breath, and then, as Lopez brings in the stretcher, he decides that all he needs is to act professionally and whatever this feeling is will go away. That idea becomes a lot harder to believe once he's helping Evan into the stretcher and feeling his minty scent from very close. It's minty and warm, with the faintest trace of sugar clinging to him. Of course the baker smells like cookies, Tommy thinks wryly, and of course that makes it worse instead of better.
Once Evan is comfortably settled into the stretcher, Liz, the girl who called them, approaches, clearly nervous.
"Are you gonna be okay, dude? I keep telling you that you shouldn't be working so hard with a baby on the way", she says, and Evan gives her the prettiest reassuring smile.
"I'll be fine, Liz. Thank you for saving the day and calling them. Now you should get going, you can't be late for your midterm. I'm really sorry the good luck cookies didn't work out."
Liz shrugs, putting a streak of her hair behind her ear. "Meh, I have lots of midterms coming up, you can give me a good luck cookie another day. I hope you feel better, I can't survive very long without your coffee"
"I promise. Thanks once again", he says, and then she's gone after a small squeeze of his hand. To Tommy, there's something ridiculously endearing about this that he can't put in words, and before he can, Evan is turning those curious blue eyes at him once again, making Tommy's stupid heart skip another stupid beat. "Say, what station are you guys from again?"
"The 217. Also known as Harbor station" Lopez supplies before Tommy while they wheel the stretcher out of the kitchen and towards the truck. Evan nods, then bites his lips.
"You wouldn't happen to know Captain Nash, from the 118?" He asks, and both Lopez and Jacobs look at Tommy right away.
"Yes, actually, I worked for him until a few months ago", Tommy explains, and then can't help his curiosity. "Why?"
"Well, we should probably give him a call before he happens to hear the bakery's address over radio and drops dead. He worries about me", he says, his voice clearly fond, and once Tommy connects the dots, he widens his eyes.
"Wait, is Captain Nash your baby's dad?" He blurts out in a surprised and completely unprofessional manner, his eyebrows raised.
Evan makes the most outraged face possible, a frown settling between his eyebrows, highlighting the (frankly adorable) pink birthmark that rests over his left one. "Ew, no! He's my dad. The baby's dad is probably still in South American being a jerk to someone else"
"Oh", Tommy says, for lack of a better word, and very vaguely remembering captain Nash mentioning once or twice that his son was living abroad (Tommy wants to say in Venezuela, but he's not sure that's entirely right). He doesn't remember Nash saying anything about him coming back, but then again, he's been out of the 118 for almost a year. "Well, then, let's call captain Nash and let him know his son's alright before he invades the hospital, shall we?"
Evan chuckles, nodding weakly. "Yeah, sounds like something he would do. I can call him"
"No, you can rest", Jacobs says sternly. "We'll handle the call, don't worry. Just give us the number"
Tommy helps Lopez and Jacobs lift the stretcher and settle it into the truck, and then they're off, Jacobs on the wheel and Tommy and Lopez on the back with Evan. Tommy realizes how little sense that makes; they're the medics, he should be the one driving. But it didn't occur to him to leave Evan's side even for a second, and as he checks up the monitors and sees the other man looking at him with those trusting blue eyes, Tommy can't regret that decision.
As the acting captain, Lopez should be the one making the call, but Tommy has worked with Nash and volunteers to do it. They parted on good terms, and he thinks it'll be better if the man hears what happened from someone he knows, even if only a little.
"Hello, this is Nash", he answers professionally, his voice deep and no non-sense, and Tommy sees how Evan seems to sag in relief right away once he hears it.
"Captain Nash? Tommy Kinard here, sir", Tommy tells him, and Nash takes a beat to answer, certainly taken aback.
"Tommy?! I, um, didn't even know you had my number", he says, and Tommy can practically hear the frown in his voice.
"Um, I didn't, sir, not really. I got it from Evan. We… we attended a call on his bakery. He's with us on route to Saint Joe's hospital", Tommy says, and he is about to add that Evan's alright (what he should have led with, in hindsight) when he hears a sharp intake of breath from Bobby.
"What?!", he says, and even Evan flinches with the clear worry on his tone. "Is he okay?! Is the baby okay?!"
"Yes, they're both fine, Bobby", Tommy says, in the calmest tone he can muster. "He had a fainting episode, probably because of low sugar, we're just taking him to the hospital to be on the safe side on account of his pregnancy"
There's a sigh of relief on the other side of the line, and Evan smiles approvingly at Tommy, who tries to pretend that didn't cause a somersault in his insides.
"Okay. Okay. I'm going back to the station from a scene right now, I think it'll be a while before I can get to the hospital. Will you let him know, please?"
"Yes, of course", Tommy says, and relays the message to Evan, who gives him a thumbs up.
"And… Tommy?" Bobby says, uncertainty clear in his tone. "I know that's not something we usually do, but… would you stay with Evan until I get there? Please?"
The request takes Tommy off-guard, but he realizes that actually, no part of him was ready to leave Evan behind on his own in a sterile hospital waiting room.
"I can definitely do that", he tells Bobby softly.
"Thank you, Tommy", his ex-captain tells him. "I'll see you soon"
Tommy ends the call, setting the phone aside, and when he looks up, Evan is watching him with those impossibly blue eyes again. He can't help but give him a small smile, that is readily reciprocated.
“Your dad says he’ll be here as soon as he can,” Tommy says quietly. “Until then—you’ve got me.”
Evan chuckles, the sound faint but warm. “Guess I do.”
And God help Tommy, he sounds actually pleased at the prospect.
The ER at St. Joe's, like in any other LA hospital, is pretty packed. But once Evan tells the receptionist nurse that he's pregnant and she notices the uniformed firefighter standing by his side, he is seen to pretty quickly.
“Alright, Mr. Buckley,” the nurse says once he’s settled in bed. Tommy frowns at the name, but Evan doesn’t even blink, answering like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "We'll have you do an ultrasound as soon as an exam room is available, but meanwhile, just try and rest a bit."
"Thanks", he says, that charming smile back in his face. "I'm feeling a lot better already, but can't be too careful with the little one, can you?"
"No, you can't", Tommy readily agrees, and the nurse smiles approvingly.
"Well, it's good you're feeling better. But if anything happens, please call for someone, or ask your husband to do so, okay?"
Tommy nearly chokes on air, a blush creeping all the way up to his cheeks. Evan blinks, then bursts into a startled laugh.
“Oh, no, he’s not…” he starts quickly, cheeks also tinged pink. “He’s just…a friend. A firefighter. My dad’s a firefighter too, so, you know…” He waves a hand vaguely, clearly flustered.
Tommy is definitely not imagining what it'd be like if the nurse had guessed right.
"Right", the nurse answers, her cheeks scarlet. "Well, anyway, call if you need anything, alright?"
She scrambles out of there as soon as possible, and Tommy wishes there was a hole on the floor to swallow him. Evan is giving him a little awkward smile, almost as if he's afraid Tommy will be mad at him or something.
"So. Sorry about that", he says meekly, more fragile than he's sounded since Tommy first found him sprawled on the floor of his bakery.
"Don't worry about it", Tommy quickly says, trying to keep his tone light. "It's not a big deal"
Evan nods, and then rests against the pillow, biting his lips. One of his hands reaches, almost subconsciously, to his small bump, and he strokes it while looking deep in thought.
"It's just", he says suddenly, his voice artificially light. "People expect there to be a partner, don't they? When someone's pregnant."
The words are casual, but the brightness is paper-thin, and Tommy can hear the ache under it. He feels completely off-guard, unsure of what to say. It seems like Evan is letting out something he's been feeling for a while, and Tommy doesn't know him well enough to unpack it. Doesn't know him at all, really, no matter how much he wishes he did.
"They usually do", is all he offers, leaving an opening if Evan wishes to tell him more. Apparently, he does.
Evan lets out a small laugh, his hand still gently caressing his bump, as if gathering courage to talk to Tommy. "The baby's dad… He's American, but we met in Peru. I was bar tending in a hotel, having a last year of adventure before deciding where I wanted to settle down. And he was charming, and funny, and made me realize I liked guys."
"I know the type", Tommy tells him, thinking back to his Army time.
"Well, we were planning to come back to States together. I would try for the Navy SEALs, he'd open a law practice. We'd start a life. I… I was in love", he says, voice breaking at the end, and Tommy feels an irrational urge to punch the Peru guy and hold Evan close.
He doesn't do either, of course. But he does sit by the end of Evan's bed, looking at him with rapt attention. There's not much Tommy can offer to him, but he can offer an ear.
"And then what happened?", Tommy asks as delicately as he can, but Evan sighs brokenly anyway.
"I found out about the baby, that's what happened. And I was surprised, because I didn't know I was a carrier, and I knew the SEALs would be a no-go, but… I was happy, Tommy", he whispers. "I… I thought he'd be too."
Tommy can pretty much gather the rest of the story from there, but he lets Evan finish anyway. He knows that some things just have to be said or else they just make the heart heavier.
"But… He wasn't", Evan indeed finishes up, and Tommy nods softly, still looking at him intently. "In fact, I told him one the evening and he was gone the next morning. Of course I called, like an idiot, for days. He never picked up."
Evan swallows hard, his hand still resting over his bump. “I kept thinking maybe I’d said it wrong, or too fast, or… maybe if I’d given him more time.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he shakes his head, a tear following . “But I guess he didn’t want time. He just didn’t want us.”
Tommy’s chest aches. He wants to tell Evan he deserved better, that the other guy was an asshole for walking out on him, and if it were Tommy, he would never. But he can't say all that, not really.
"I'm sorry, Evan. He was an asshole", he says, because that much he can say without sounding way more eager than he should.
"Yeah, well. He was", he says, clearly trying to shake the emotions away. "Then, to make a long story short, I was pregnant, and alone in a foreign country, and all I could think about doing was run back to my dad. Spent all the money I had saved up during my travels to invest in a small bakery because that was my only useful talent, and now have to lean on my dad dad for help until I can be stable on my own"
"It's a good thing you have him", Tommy tries to comfort him, but Evan looks more saddened with that statement.
"Yeah, but…", he sighs. "I didn't want to need him for that, you know? I… I wanted to make him proud, and now I feel like I disappointed him more than ever."
"No, you didn't", Tommy says before he even realizes it, and Evan raises surprised eyes at him.
And Tommy realizes he's probably saying more than he should, and that this is not his business whatsoever, but he can't stand the sight of Evan so sad. He privately thinks this man should always be smiling.
"I… I told you earlier, I worked with your father for a while before transferring, Evan. And he's a very closed off man", Tommy says, and Evan nods gravely.
"He… he has his reasons", he says, and Tommy raises a hand.
"And you don't owe them to me; neither does he," he reassures Evan. "The only reason I'm saying this is because the only times I've seen him lighten up was when he was talking about you"
"R-really?", Evan asks, a tentative smile on his face.
"Really. He always talked about how much you've traveled and how proud he was of everything you were doing."
"Yeah, well, that was before all of this, wasn't it?", Evan says, pointing at himself, and Tommy doesn't really have an answer to that. But he finds one anyway.
“Why shouldn’t he be proud now? You came home, you’re building a life for you and your baby. That’s not disappointment, Evan. That’s courage.”
Tommy definitely didn't mean to make Evan cry, but his eyes fill up with tears even so. Slightly panicked, Tommy reaches for the tissues in the bedside table, handing them to him.
"Sorry. Damn hormones. It's just… I needed to hear that", he says, and then takes the tissue from Tommy's hand, giving it a slight squeeze before letting go. Tommy feels goosebumps. "Thanks, Tommy"
Tommy looks into those impossible blue eyes, and he is about to do something abusrdly stupid, such as kissing Evan or asking him out, when there's a small knock on the door. They both turn around to see Bobby Nash at the doorstop, and Tommy lets go of Evan's hand, getting up from the bed.
"Captain Nash", he says formally, at the same time Evan says "Hey, dad".
Tommy is not even slightly offended that Bobby rushes for Evan first. In fact, he barely spares a glance at Tommy before entering the room and wrapping Evan in a hug.
"Gave me quite a scare, kid", he says once he lets go, one of his hands lingering in Evan's shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, dad, just waiting on an exam room to get the baby checked", Evan says lightly, and then turns that bright smile back at Tommy, who feels as warmed as if it was a sun ray beaming at him. "Tommy and his team mates were brilliant."
It's as if Bobby finally remembers Tommy is in the room as well. With clear reluctance, he takes his eyes off of Evan, and crosses the room to offer Tommy his hand.
"Tommy", Bobby says once Tommy shakes it. "I can't thank you enough"
"You don't have to, Cap. We were just doing our job", Tommy says sincerely, and he knows he has no reason to stay there anymore, even if a stupid part of his heart wants to. "I'll leave you two to it, okay? Evan, I hope you feel better soon"
Tommy offers a hand for Evan to shake, only because he doesn't think it's a good idea to kiss him senseless in front of his father. Evan looks at him for a long minute before shaking it, his fingers lingering on Tommy's wrist.
"Thank you, Tommy. Really. You should come by the bakery sometime and try my baked Alaska. You look like you'd enjoy it"
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Tommy says, then adds before he can stop himself, “But I’ll leave you my number. For, uh… baked Alaska emergencies.”
Evan blinks, clearly taken aback, but then a tentative smile takes over his face. Bobby is looking at them both with a raised eyebrow, and Tommy tries to ignore it, even though his ears are pink.
"Yeah, okay. Baked Alaska emergencies", he repeats, and then offers his phone to Tommy. "Save it here and I'll text you later so you can save mine"
And the worst part? He does. A few hours later, when his shift is already done and he's just getting comfortable in bed, his phone lights up with a message:
'hey Tommy! me and bby are a-ok, jsyk. we're home and resting Thx again! :)'.
Tommy grins like an idiot and texts back:
'Glad to hear it. Take care, you both :)'
He tells himself it’s nothing. Just a thank-you. Just friendliness. Evan needs a friend right now, and Tommy can be that—if he ignores the fact that he’s already got a massive crush on him.
It’ll work, his brain insists as he fluffs the pillow and gets ready to sleep. As long as he ignores the way his chest does a somersault every single time Evan Buckley smiles at him.
In eastern Jharkhand state, children's rights activist Baidnath Kumar has been frantically sharing information on WhatsApp and fielding appeals for help from local residents, but as the crisis deepens he said being online could prove decisive. "Access to anything - beds, oxygen, medicines, doctors - is becoming more and more difficult," Kumar said. "One needs to know someone or appeal on social media for a quick response. But how many people can do that? It doesn't work." Members of poor, marginalised communities are most at risk of missing out on information and support circulated via social media. Mona Baghmare, 21, a member of the Gond tribal group, launched a support network for indigenous women living in settlements in the central city of Bhopal as coronavirus cases spiked this month. "Most of these women exist in a world outside Twitter and social media, which have become lifelines for many in need now," Baghmare said. "While we're also fundraising on Twitter with the help of friends who have accounts, the ground support is only through meetings, passing on information and phone calls. It's a slower process, but it's the only one we have."
'India's Covid-19 meltdown exposes new front in digital divide', Deccan Herald
Since last week I've been tagged in a lot of fun games by a lot of fun people like @sad-girl-hours23 @typicalopposite @betterthanfakemouthstatic and @peppermintquartz (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!).
I couldn't partake it before, but today I really wanted to share sth, so I hope you enjoy the start of chapter 4 of Ground Support:
Dinner with the Delucas is a sacred tradition for Tommy. He tries to come over at least every other week, and Gina's texts get increasingly snarky if he takes too long to show up. Admittedly, his presence had dimmed over the last couple of months, when he found himself spending more and more time with….
Well. Tommy has a lot more free time on his hands now, anyway.
The noises of dinner are comforting, he can say that much. Silverware clinking, Nugget (the Delucas' ten-year-old Great Dane) whining to be fed, Giovanna and Vittoria bickering over who felt their baby sister kick first that morning in Gina's womb…
But even amidst all that warmth, Tommy still feels the cold weight of the empty space beside him. A space that could have been Evan's. That was meant to be Evan's.
Until Tommy had screwed it up by being a coward.
"…isn't that right, uncle Tommy?", Vittoria's voice — and the surprisingly strong poking she gives his arm — brings Tommy back from his unhappy thoughts.
"Sorry, munchkin, what did you ask?", he says, and she pouts, looking as indignant as a five year old can muster.
"Uncle Tommy! Weren't you listening?", Vittoria whines.
"Be nice, Vitti!", Giovanna hisses to her sister, patting Tommy's arm placatingly (they insisted on flanking him at dinner, one at each side, and that hasn't changed for dessert). "Uncle Tommy is old and gets tired from flying helicopters all day"
----
yes it's Deluca family fluff, yay :D
Np tagging @agentpeggycartering @typicalopposite @unhingedangstaddict @dark-alice-lilith @bidisasterevankinard @betterthanfakemouthstatic @hyperfocusthusly @kinkley-love @sad-girl-hours23 and whoever else would like to share sth ♥
I was tagged in Sentence Sunday by @betterthanfakemouthstatic (thank you darling! ♥) and I had yet to share my sentences from the WIP Poll result with you all, so I decided to put these two things together hehe!
So, full disclosure, the poll results said I had to write 26 sentences of Ground Support and... this is almost double that much, so oops? And it's still not all of chapter 2, the second part is being written but it's hitting some hard themes for me, so it's coming a bit slower than I'd like. But it should be done by Tuesday at the latest
Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it! Picks up directly from here:
He knows he's being absolutely stupid, getting himself so attached, especially in his current situation, but he can't help himself. Tommy is just so… Nice. Confident. And he has a cleft. As if that isn't unfair enough, he's also funny; always slipping in perfectly timed sarcastic quips that never fail to pull a delighted laugh out of Buck.
Buck has noticed that Tommy particularly likes to do that with the annoying customers that want refunds for the most ridiculous reasons. If Tommy's around when that happens, Buck knows he'll be in for a delightful comment that will diminish his annoyance once they're gone.
When Tommy is not making Buck laugh, he is helping around the bakery. Buck has never asked, would never dream to, but still. Over the weeks, it's become common for Tommy to pick up flour and sugar bags and stack heavy trays when he's there, always with a soft 'Evan, you're pregnant, you need the help'.
And Buck likes it. Likes being cared for. That is the dangerous part. Because it's not just the bakery, either — they hang out outside of it as well, not as often, but they do. There's one particular Thursday afternoon that stays in Buck's memory, when Tommy joins him to shop for baby clothes.
It's not like they planned for it; Tommy came by the bakery a little after lunch and found him closing the bakery early. When he asked if Buck had plans for his afternoon, it felt only natural to invite Tommy to join in so they can hang out away from the bakery walls for a bit.
It's infinitely more fun than if Buck was doing it alone. Tommy seems to know his way around the stores (apparently his best friend, Sal, already has two little girls with a third on the way, and they're all Tommy's goddaughters), and shares firefighter safety tips about strollers and cribs — Buck already knows all of them because of his dad, but he lets Tommy believe it's all brand new information.
Even better than that, he seems to find everything, from stuffed penguins to Pókemon-themed onesies, the cutest thing on Earth, and insists Buck's baby must have it. Right now, he's holding up a frankly adorable white onesie covered in little airplanes and helicopters.
"Ah, well, now that's just flattering yourself", Buck jokes, raising an eyebrow, and Tommy shrugs, a shameless smile on his face.
"Tell me this isn't the cutest thing you've ever seen", Tommy says, and he sounds so excited that Buck can't help but smile along. All of a sudden, he gasps, looking at something at the back of the store. "Oh, Evan! Look, there's a plushie too!"
He crosses the store in large steps, that Buck struggles to keep up with, his growing belly slowing him down. By the time he gets to Tommy, he's looking between the onesie and the plushie with a frown between his eyebrows.
"Now, which one should I take? I know the onesie is more practical, but c'mon, this plushie is just adorable"
Buck can't quite believe his ears, and there's a pang in his heart that he chooses to ignore. "T-take? Tommy, you don't have to-", he says, but Tommy is already shaking his head.
"I know I don't have to. I want to", he insists. "Will you let me?"
"Y-yeah", Buck stammers. "Of course I'll let you"
For a moment, Buck wishes Tommy was talking about more than a plushie and an onesie. For a moment, he wishes he was agreeing to more than a plushie and an onesie. But the moment passes, and Buck comes back to reality where he knows none of that is possible.
No matter that he's ready for something, and that something could be with Tommy. No matter that Tommy is buying his baby presents and has been consistently there for Buck in the next few months.
Buck can't ask for more than that. Not now, not when his priority is growing inside. Besides, why would Tommy even want him right now? When not even the father of his child did?
No, Buck has to accept the fact that he and Tommy are just friends and that's not going to change. And he'll have to be fine with that.
It's fine, he keeps telling himself. They're fine.
Np tagging @bidisasterevankinard @kinkley-love @dark-alice-lilith @agentpeggycartering and anyone else who feels like playing ♥
Ground support!!! One of my fav fanfics from you!!
Hii anon! Ohh that is so sweet, thank you! I love Ground Support as well, and I think I might like writing the sequel even more <3
Here are the next twenty-ish sentences of it for you (ik ik it's a bit more than asked for, but I really wanna share hehe)
- 🧁 (cont. from here)
Strapped to his chest, she happily chews on a watermelon-shaped teething toy, looking adorable in Buck’s totally unbiased opinion. He’d managed to gather her soft blonde hair into a tiny blue bow, and she’s wearing the cutest white dress with embroidered blue flowers.
She looks like the happiest baby in the world, shrieking with joy as Buck scatters some yellow sprinkles over the frosting on his pink lemonade cupcake (a summer exclusive and a major hit).
He chuckles fondly, gently bouncing her a bit.
"That's right, baby girl, you can never have too many sprinkles", Buck tickles her neck, and Clara giggles.
"Swear to God, boss, wish I had half of this kid's joy so early in the morning", Cass pipes in as she brings a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls to the display window.
"Don't we all, Cass", Buck quips back.
The moment her hands are free, Cass leans in, cooing at Clara, who’s already reaching out with her chubby fist to grab at her thick-rimmed glasses. Cass is faster, though, catching her hand in her own and giving it a gentle squeeze—careful of her sharp black nails (protected by gloves while baking) so she doesn’t poke Clara’s soft skin.
"Aren't you the happiest baby in the world? Yes you are — yes you are, yes you are!"
Buck huffs a quiet laugh. It’s still a little surreal how his usually snarky, soft-goth, black-lipstick-wearer assistant turns into a complete cooing mess around Clara.
Then again… he can’t really blame her.
His daughter is that cute.
Cass, however, isn’t exactly a people person if people don't happen to be a chubby baby with the cutest cheeks known to humankind, so she usually sticks to prep work and baking, while Buck handles decorating and customers. It works well—and Buck does trust her to hold down the fort if he ever needs to step out for an emergency, even if the customers might get a slightly less… enthusiastic service.
To be fair, sometimes the emergency is just Tommy coming home from a long shift and Buck taking an hour-long break just to see him.
Because they're really that sappy.
God, Buck misses him.
His boyfriend was called to help with the wildfires in Southern California, and Buck hasn't seen him in two weeks, one faulty FaceTime call notwithstanding. It's really unfair, too, because they had just moved in together when Tommy was deployed.
Hellooo! Here's chapter 4, and contrary to popular belief, won't be the last one, oooops.
But I'm happy with it and I hope you enjoy it too ♥ i'm so happy to have it posted in time to take part in @bt-novempreg! ♥
[Ch.1]
[Ch.2]
[Ch. 3]
[Read on AO3]
Dinner with the Delucas is a sacred tradition for Tommy. He tries to come over at least every other week, and Gina's texts get increasingly snarky if he takes too long to show up. Admittedly, his presence had dimmed over the last couple of months, when he found himself spending more and more time with….
Well. Tommy has a lot more free time on his hands now, anyway.
The noises of dinner are comforting, he can say that much. Silverware clinking, Nugget (the Delucas' ten-year-old Great Dane) whining to be fed, Giovanna and Vittoria bickering over who felt their baby sister kick first that morning in Gina's womb…
But even amidst all that warmth, Tommy still feels the cold weight of the empty space beside him. A space that could have been Evan's. That was meant to be Evan's.
Until Tommy had screwed it up by being a coward.
"…isn't that right, uncle Tommy?", Vittoria's voice — and the surprisingly strong poking she gives his arm — brings Tommy back from his unhappy thoughts.
"Sorry, kiddo, what did you ask?", he says, and she pouts, looking as indignant as a five year old can muster.
"Uncle Tommy! Weren't you listening?", Vittoria whines.
"Be nice, Vitti!", Giovanna hisses to her sister, patting Tommy's arm placatingly (they insisted on flanking him at dinner, one at each side, and that hasn't changed for dessert). "Uncle Tommy is old and gets tired from flying helicopters all day"
Sal laughs wholeheartedly at that, while Gina hides her face in her hands. Tommy ends up chuckling despite himself, the tightening in his chest loosening at least a little bit with his nieces' antics.
"He still should listen when I say chocolate chip ice cream is better than bubblegum ice cream", Vitti says with finality, swallowing her last spoonful with her legs dangling under her chair.
"You're not wrong about that, sweetpea" Tommy says, gently tickling her neck, and Vittoria giggles.
"Do you want the last of my sprinkles, uncle T?", Giovanna asks, shoving her bowl of melted strawberry ice-cream mixed with colorful little dots that might have been sprinkles once upon a time.
"How come you never offer me the last of your sprinkles, huh?" Sal asks, nudging his daughter's shoulder, but Gio shrugs, unaffected.
"Uncle Tommy's special, Dad"
Tommy can't help but smile, his heart warmed. At least to someone, he's still special. He can't help but look smugly at Sal.
"See? I'm special", he says, and Sal playfully rolls his eyes.
Tommy leans back against his chair, trying to figure out how to say no to her sprinkle concoction without breaking Giovanna's heart when Gina saves his life.
"Alright, little night owls", she claps her hands. "We agreed you'd stay up until dessert. Now it's jammies, toothbrush, and bed. Up you go"
"Noooo", Vitti whines, sliding down her chair, pouting for the ages. "I'm not tired, Mommy!"
"I want uncle Tommy to tuck me in!", Giovanna declares, as if that's a condition for her to go to bed.
"Oh, me too!", Vittoria decides, grabbing Tommy's hand in her tiny one as if that seals the deal.
Sal smirks at Tommy, leaning back on his chair and shrugging. "Hey, you wanted to be special, mate"
"Hmm, I don't know, though, sounds like a big responsibility", Tommy pretends to think about it. "I think I'll have to demand at least two hugs from each of you"
The girls look at each other and giggle, then tackle Tommy in a double hug that fills his heart as much as his arms.
"Deal!", they say, and Tommy gives each of them an affectionate squeeze.
"Alright, go brush your teeth and put on your jammies. I'll help your dad clean the table and be right up, ok?"
"What about Mommy?", Vittoria asks curiously.
"Mommy gets to sit back and watch because she's growing your sister", Tommy says, winking at Gina, who blows him a kiss.
"You're a godsend, Tommy", she tells him, and he just shrugs. The girls rush upstairs in a fit of giggle, arguing over who gets to be put to bed first.
Ten minutes later, Tommy is drying the last dish when a chorus of 'Uncle Tommyyyyy!' comes from upstairs. Both he and Sal look up and Tommy chuckles, throwing the dish towel into the counter.
"Well. I'm being summoned", he deadpans, and Sal rolls his eyes.
"Go, special one", he says, elbow deep in soapy water.
Tommy grins at him, clapping his shoulder, and walks off, whistling to himself.
When he reaches upstairs, he quickly passes by Gio's room to let her know he's tucking Vitti in first, because she's littler and has to sleep sooner — Giovanna looks very smug when he says that, which Tommy considers mission accomplished. Then, he enters Vittoria’s room to find her in her unicorn PJs, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, clutching her lavender lamb plushie close to her chest.
"Hey, peanut", Tommy greets, and her smile makes him almost forget the sadness that's been haunting his heart.
"Hi, uncle Tommy! Say hi to Lulu!", she demands, holding up her lamb, and Tommy can't help but chuckle.
"Hi, Lulu. Are you two ready for bed?"
Vitti nods enthusiastically, and Tommy swoops both her and the plushie into his arms, princess-style. She squeals and giggles, and he pulls the covers back so he can tuck her gently underneath them.
"Good night, Vitti", he says, bending to press a kiss to her forehead, and she wraps her arms around his neck, placing a loud kiss on his cheek.
"Good night, uncle Tommy. I love you more than ice cream", she whispers like it's a big secret, and Tommy smiles at her.
"Love you too, kiddo. Sweet dreams", Tommy says, booping her nose and turning off the overhead light, leaving only the soft glow of her cloud-shaped nightlight.
She's almost asleep by the time he walks across the hall to enter Giovanna's bedroom. His oldest niece doesn't have a nightlight anymore and she's already under the covers, but she's still clutching a plushie (hers is an elephant) and wearing Hello Kitty PJs.
“Hey, Bean,” Tommy says, using the nickname he’s had for her since she was bean-sized in Gina’s belly, nearly ten years ago. “You ready for bed?”
"You're sad", Gio replies, and it's not a question.
Tommy is caught so off-guard he doesn't even answer, and she takes it as her cue to go on.
"I told Vitti you were tired because she's little and she doesn't understand", she says, clutching her elephant that tiny bit tighter. "But I know you're sad, uncle Tommy"
He's taken aback, though he shouldn't be. Gio's always been observant and too smart for her age — plus, she has known Tommy literally all her life. And Tommy’s never believed in lying to kids. He’s not about to start now.
“Yeah,” he says, easing down onto her bed. The rainbow sheets crinkle under his weight, making him feel comically oversized in the best possible way. “I am sad, Gigi.”
"Why?"
Tommy shrugs. It’s hard to explain this kind of heartbreak to a nine-year-old — even one as sharp as Gio. “It’s… grown-up stuff.”
"Oh", she nods, a few wisps of brown hair escaping from her neat braid. "Like… romance stuff?"
"Kind of", Tommy agrees, and she frowns.
"With your friend Evan?"
Tommy blinks. Of course she noticed him talking about Evan over the last few months. Who wouldn't? He lets out a slow breath.
"Yeah, peanut. It's about Evan"
Giovanna watches him for a second, fiddling with the ear of her elephant, like she’s trying to decide if she should ask more. She doesn’t.
Instead, she says, “I liked when you talked about him. You smiled more.”
Tommy tries with all his might to keep his tears at bay; he doesn't want to scare Giovanna. "Did I?"
"Yeah", she says, and then looks deep in his eyes. “You could try saying sorry. That’s what Miss Letícia makes us do at school.”
Tommy laughs, but it comes out a little cracked, and a tear does slip down his cheek.
Tommy laughs, but it comes out cracked, and a tear slips down his cheek.
“So simple, huh, Gigi?” he asks.
Giovanna nods, certain. She reaches up and wipes the tear away with her tiny hand.
“Yeah,” she says. “Super simple.”
“All right,” Tommy agrees, if only to placate her. “I’ll try it your way, Peanut. But now you gotta stop worrying about me and go to sleep, okay?”
He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead… then one to the elephant’s trunk, just to make her giggle.
“Okay,” she whispers, smile sleepy. “But only if you smile lots again soon.”
“I promise,” Tommy says, standing by the door and turning off the light. “Love you, Gigi. Good night.”
“Night, Uncle T,” she murmurs, already halfway to dreaming.
Tommy goes downstairs with a smile on his face, but his thoughts in turmoil. The kitchen is wrapped in comfortable silence. Sal is wiping down the sink, just done with the dishes, and Gina is still sitting by the table, her legs now propped up on two chairs.
"Hey", she says warmly when she spots him. "Gremlins down for the night?"
"Yup. Plushies and all", Tommy says, and Gina blows a kiss in his direction.
"Thank you, Tommy, you're an angel", she praises. "There's still pudding in the fridge, by the way"
"Thanks, but I'm good", he tells her, and Gina smirks.
"Okay, but can you grab a piece for me? I don't wanna get up"
"Sal, your wife is exploiting me", Tommy pretends to complain, but Sal barely looks up.
"And I'd obey her if I were you", he deadpans.
Tommy chuckles, already halfway to the fridge. He fetches the pudding, serves her a generous portion with caramel dripping down the sides, and sets it in front of her.
“Oh?” Tommy smiles. “Little lady being demanding?”
Sal passes him a mug of coffee, and the two of them settle in beside Gina. Sal takes her swollen ankle into his hands, rubbing gentle circles over it. Gina sighs in delight, the picture of contentment between her pudding and her foot rub.
“They always are,” she says wisely, running a hand down her bump. “Both Gio and Vitti had me craving sugar from day one.” She glances at Tommy, eyes bright with affection. “Say, your friend Buck’s also expecting a girl, isn’t he? Are his cravings any better now he’s in the last trimester?”
Tommy’s heart skips a beat. The air shifts; barely perceptible, but enough. It’s like the room temperature drops five degrees.
“I… I don’t know,” he admits eventually, each word like a splinter. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
The silence turns heavy. Sal and Gina exchange a look over Gina’s belly—puzzled, a little worried. Tommy feels his face flush, suddenly fascinated by the tabletop.
“You… haven’t?” Sal repeats gently, like he’s hoping he misunderstood.
Tommy sighs, slow and broken, and just nods.
“What happened, honey?” Gina asks. Her voice is so soft—no judgment, no pressure. Just care.
And that’s what makes it worse.
"He… he kissed me. Ten days ago.", Tommy confesses, sighing brokenly. "And… and I got scared. Left. We haven't really talked since"
He feels Gina's hand taking his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Tommy looks up to find her looking at him with the earnest expression he's ever seen, and it makes him want to curl up and cry.
"Why did you get scared, Tommy?", she asks, and, well. That's the million dollar question, isn't it?
"I… I don't know. I was afraid he'd regret it the next day. That… that he was doing it for the wrong reasons"
"And did he?", Sal joins the conversation. "Regret it, I mean?"
Tommy shrugs helplessly, not sure about how to answer. "He… he texted me the next day. Said he was sorry, that nothing had to change."
"Sounds to me like he got scared too", Sal observes. "What did you answer?"
Tommy's silence and deep blush are answer enough. Gina gasps, smacking the same hand she's just been squeezing.
"Thomas Kinard! You're not telling me you've left the poor guy on read for ten days?! You don't do that to anyone, especially a pregnant person!"
"Ow!", he says, because his hand stings; Gina is freakingly strong. "I didn't leave him on read, ok? I… I told him it was fine and just… we didn't talk again. I didn't initiate it, and neither did he."
"Well, of course he didn't. The ball was in your court, Tommy", Sal says, as if Tommy is missing something particularly obvious.
"What am I supposed to tell him anyway?!" Tommy blows up, exasperated. "I can't tell him that I'm fine with things not changing, because I'm not! I… I can't be only his friend anymore. It hurts too much"
"Oh, honey", Gina says tenderly, giving his hand a gentle kiss. "Then you should tell him that"
"I… I can't", Tommy tells her quietly. "Not right now. He's vulnerable, and pregnant, and…"
"…And if you like him when he's like this, doesn't that mean your feeling is real?", she says astutely, and Tommy shrugs helplessly.
"But what if his aren't?" he asks, finally voicing the fear that’s been lodged in his chest for days.
Tommy likes Evan so much; the mere thought that Evan might not feel the same way—might not want him back, not like that—is enough to split him right down the middle.
"Sounds to me like they are, mate", Sal says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "But how will you know if you don't take a leap of faith?"
"Sal's right, sweetheart. Buck has already opened his heart; now it's your turn", Gina completes, her pudding long forgotten.
"Talk to him, Tommy", Sal urges, squeezing his shoulder. "Either way, you won't be any worse off than you are now — pining for him like a lovesick puppy in my kitchen"
Tommy chuckles weakly, and lets Sal wrap him in a hug. He knows their advice is solid; if he'll do something with it, that's another story altogether.
(Continue reading under the cut or on AO3)
Tommy doesn’t sleep that night.
He tosses and turns until the first hint of morning light bleeds through the guest room window. By the time the sun is fully up, so is he — showered, dressed, and on his way to Evan's bakery, Sweet Corner.
There were a lot of reasons he made the decision. But mostly?
He just misses Evan.
Misses the warmth of the bakery, the scent of sugar in the air, the way Buck's whole face lights up when he sees him. The way he'd beam whenever Tommy tries a new recipe and lets him know how good it is.
He misses the way Evan strokes his bump and coos to his Clara, loving her with all his heart even before she's born.
If Tommy can have even a tenth of that love, he'll be a happy man.
So he needs to try.
He needs to tell Evan the truth, apologize for his cowardice and let him know that Tommy is in it for the long run. Wants to wrap Evan in his arms while he begs for forgiveness. Wants to take Evan's hand in his as he asks for another chance.
Tommy doesn't get to do any of that.
Because when he finally leaves the car to enter Sweet Corner, it's closed. The lights are out, the chalkboard is still inside, and there are no cupcakes on the display windows. Worst of all, no Evan behind the counter with a bag of frosting on his hand and the cutest frown between his eyebrows.
Tommy's stomach drops all the way down to his knees; the bakery is never closed at this hour, not unless it's Sunday, which is not the case.
Before he can even think, Tommy is reaching for his phone and calling Evan's number.
No answer.
There's panic rushing through his veins, but Tommy refuses to let it settle. He tries one more time, two, three; still nothing.
With his fingers trembling, he rolls through his contacts and tries Bobby next. If Evan is not answering, Bobby will. He has to.
And yet, he doesn't. The call goes straight to voicemail.
"Damn it!", Tommy gasps, his knuckles white where he's clutching his phone. His heart is hammering against his chest. "Okay, okay, who can I—"
Hit by a sudden inspiration, Tommy scrolls frantically through his contact list until he finds Howard.
It barely rings once before Chim picks up. "Tommy! I was wondering where you've been! Are you coming?"
"C-coming?", Tommy is so confused for a moment that he even forgets why he called Chim in the first place. "W-where?"
"To the hospital, of course!", Chim exclaims, as if Tommy's being particularly obtuse. "You're not gonna miss Clara's birth, are you?"
This isn't Bobby's first sleepless night, not by a long shot. But it's the first in years that feels so meaningful.
He's stayed awake for many reasons before, some not so good — fighting fires, filling paperwork, crying from grief, dealing with abstinence. But his favorite reason has always been this one: his children.
Bobby remembers all too well spending all night awake with a colicky Bobby Jr. who'd scream bloody murder if left on his crib for even a tiny second. He remembers holding vigil over Brooke's bed because she was afraid of a thunderstorm.
But looking at Buck's sweaty face as he rests his head against his pillow, the thing Bobby remembers most is a scared ten-year-old boy, heart bruised after eight years in the foster system, unable to sleep on his first night home.
That night, seventeen years ago, Bobby had stayed by his side, holding his hand. And now here he is again. Buck's hand is bigger now, almost crushing Bobby's every time he squeezes it because of a contraction. But those blue eyes are still the same, looking at him and searching for safety. Bobby hasn't always felt worthy of this trust, but God knows, he tries. He tries every day.
His thoughts are interrupted by another strong squeeze to his hand; Buck is having another contraction. His face is squeezed in pain, his eyes shut, his fingers clamped down around Bobby's hand.
"Shhh, that's it, kiddo, you're doing great", he soothes, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Just breathe through it"
"It's taking too long", Buck says, voice hoarse, his breathing shallow and uneven. "D-do you think she's okay, Dad?…"
"She's fine, Buck", Bobby reassures him, not for the first time, but he doesn't mind. "Remember, your doctor told you, she's just taking a while, but it's normal"
Evan nods, resting his head against the pillow and closing his eyes, sighing heavily. He's been in labor for twelve hours already, and Bobby can only imagine that it feels twice as long, given how uncomfortable he must be. Unfortunately, though, that's all within the realm of normality for male carriers; he wishes he could do something to ease Evan's pain, but he didn't want to take any drugs, so all Bobby can do is be there for him.
"Aren't you hungry, Dad? You s-should go get something to eat", Evan asks, and Bobby feels a bout of affection for his boy, who's worrying about him even through his pain and fear.
"I'm okay, kiddo", Bobby reassures him. "I'll eat after my granddaughter is here"
Evan gives him a small smile and a nod, resting his head against Bobby's shoulder. "T-thanks. For being here with me"
"Evan", Bobby says, floored that Buck even thinks he has something to thank him for. "Where else would I be?"
Buck shrugs, looking down at the blanket covering his legs, avoiding Bobby's eyes. He's always done that when a topic feels hard to talk about.
"I… I don't know. I t-thought maybe you could be disappointed in me. F-for not being more careful."
Bobby can tell, right away, that this isn't a new thought for his son. He wonders if Evan has felt like this all pregnancy long, and feels like kicking himself for not reassuring him sooner.
"You listen to me, Evan Buckley-Nash", Bobby says, gently raising Buck's chin so he can look into his eyes, so similar to his own somehow. "I have nothing to be disappointed in, you hear me? I'm proud of you for finding your way home and deciding to be a dad to Clara. But I would also be proud if you decided this wasn't for you and went down a different route instead. I am proud of you no matter what, son, just because you're you"
Buck blinks fast, and Bobby can tell he's fighting tears. He immediately wraps his arms around his son's trembling frame, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.
"I love you, Dad", Evan whispers against his shoulder.
Bobby’s about to answer, but Buck’s body tenses sharply—a contraction hitting hard and fast. They’re coming quicker now, he realizes with growing concern.
“Okay, okay, breathe with me again, kiddo,” Bobby says tenderly, rubbing his back in slow, grounding circles—the same way he used to when Buck was cramming for some impossible exam. “Almost there.”
Buck nods once the pain passes, his shoulders sagging with the exhale. One hand rubs gently over his bump, like he’s grounding himself—and maybe the baby too.
"T-tommy was right, after all. He told me you weren't disappointed in me forever ago"
Bobby still; he hasn't heard Buck utter Tommy's name in days.
Not since that day — when he screwed up again. When Bobby fell off the wagon and Tommy, to Bobby's increasing admiration, stood by Evan's side every second of the way. He had dared to hope that something would bloom between them after that. Something last, and solid, with someone who'd love Evan the way he deserved to be loved.
But the next morning, when Evan showed up to check on him, he was alone. And he hadn't uttered a word about Tommy since.
Not until now, at least.
"He was", Bobby agrees carefully. "Have you… told him? That Clara's coming?"
Buck shakes his head, biting his lip. Bobby can see he's hurting, even though he's trying to act like it's no big deal.
"I… No. We haven't really been talking, so…", he says, and Bobby desperately wants to know what happened, but he knows now is not the time to ask. "I just don’t wanna bother him.”
Bobby hums, eyes soft with understanding. He knows what Buck means—how easily that fear can creep in, especially when you love someone and aren’t sure if they’ll love you back, or still do.
“I don’t think you would,” he says gently. Then, with a small smile, he adds, “Tommy’s good people, son. Good for you.”
"Yeah, well", Buck sighs, and then squeezes his eyes shut, interrupting himself.
A low groan escapes through his clenched teeth as his body tenses again, hit by another contraction. Bobby rubs gentle circles on his back with one hand, the other clasped around Buck's sweaty one. Once it's done, he sags against Bobby's side, exhaustion written in his features.
"Kinda too late now", he finishes his thought, and well. Bobby can't really argue, not when the contractions are coming less than five minutes apart.
Before Bobby can say anything else, there’s a gentle knock on the doorframe. Dr. Sims steps into the room with a warm, reassuring smile. He's a lean and tall man, not much older than Buck, and a carrier himself with two kids already — or so Bobby has been told by his son. The calm confidence he carries into the room is palpable, and even Bobby feels a little steadier just having him there.
"Good morning, Buck", he greets, voice smooth as he approaches the bed and gently takes Buck's wrist to check his pulse. "How's miss Clara been treating you these past few hours?"
Buck exhales shakily, but manages a wry little smile. "Not great, doc", he says with a grimace. "But no one said this part would be a picnic, did they?"
Dr. Sims chuckles, giving Buck a pat on the shoulder. Throughout Buck's prenatal visits, they've built an easy rapport, and Bobby is happy to see how confident his son seems with his doctor. It's exactly what he needs in a moment like this.
"Definitely not a picnic", the doctor agrees as he moves to check Buck's dilation.
"But I promise you, the tiny person makes it worth it"
"I'm sure she does", Buck agrees, voice dreamy, clearly already so in love with his baby girl.
After he's done with his exam, Dr. Sims looks up at him, an excited grin on his face. Bobby's pleased to see he clearly still carries love for his profession.
"It's time", he announces, and Evan's eyes widen, his hand tightening around Bobby's even more. "Are you ready to meet your daughter, Buck?"
"A-already?!", Evan blurts, and Bobby and Dr. Sims exchange an incredulous look. Buck seems to realize what it sounded like, and shakes his head. "I-I just mean that somehow I still don't feel ready"
"No one is", Bobby tells him, and Dr. Sims nods, chuckling warmly. "But you're gonna do amazing, kiddo"
Buck takes a deep breath, his eyes darting to the door as if waiting for someone. But then he looks back at Dr. Sims, determination written in his features.
"O-okay. I'm ready"
Dr. Sims calls for a couple of nurses, and Bobby assumes he's about to give some instructions for both him and Buck. But before he can, the sound of loud rushed footsteps, something definitely uncommon in a hospital, reaches their ears.
"What the…", the doctor mutters as the sound gets increasingly closer.
They find out its origin together: standing by the door, his face flushed and sweaty, hair messy and eyes widened, is none other than Tommy Kinard.
"D-Did I miss it?!", he blurts out, eyes scanning the room frantically before they land on Evan.
It's like the world reduces to only the two of them. Evan's eyes are filled with surprise, and his hand goes lax in Bobby's grip, and he gasps audibly.
"T-tommy?!"
"I-I went after you at the bakery, but it was closed, and then Chimney told me you were here, and I…", Tommy rambles, stepping inside, tripping on his own feet. "I couldn't miss it, Evan. I couldn't not be here for you at this moment"
Wordlessly, Bobby takes a step back, letting go of Evan's hand; he's not sure his son even notices it, with his eyes focused on Tommy as they are. Dr. Sims is also looking at the two of them with a delighted smile on his face; Bobby knows Tommy joined Evan for one or two appointments when he couldn't, and the doctor certainly noticed the spark as well.
"You're really here", he says, his voice filled with wonder in a way that Bobby's never heard before.
Tommy takes Evan's hand in his, giving it a gentle kiss and caressing his knuckles.
"I-I never should have left. Not like that. I'm sorry, Evan", Tommy says, completely earnest, and Buck smiles at him.
"You shou— Ah!", he starts saying, but interrupts himself when a contraction hits.
His face scrunches up in pain, and he squeezes Tommy's hand the same way he was squeezing Bobby's. Tommy stands firm by his side, muttering 'okay, you're okay, you're fine, sweetheart'.
"I hate to interrupt this", Dr. Sims pipes up and, to his credit, he sounds absolutely sincere. "But Clara is ready to come into the world, Buck. Now, unfortunately, ever since the pandemic the hospital policy only allows for one support person in the room during the delivery. I'm sorry, but either your dad or Mr. Kinard will have to leave"
Buck looks between the two of them, clearly torn. And Bobby? He's been a parent long enough to know when he should take a step back. It hurts a bit, if he's honest with himself, to sacrifice his spot at the birth of his granddaughter. But he knows what his son needs.
So he comes closer, and places a long kiss to Evan's forehead. "God bless you, kiddo. I'll be praying for Mother Mary to stay by your side every second. I love you"
"I love you, dad. Thank you for…", Evan whispers, and then sighs, at a loss for words. "Thank you."
Bobby smiles at him, then looks up at Tommy, letting a stern expression take over his features.
"I'm counting on you. Take care of him."
Tommy nods gravely, as if he knows exactly what Bobby is asking. "With my life", he promises, and Bobby believes him.
He and Dr. Sims exchange a look and a nod, and then Bobby slowly walks towards the door. Before he goes, though, he still hears the whispered conversation between Tommy and Evan.
"So… you'll stay?", Evan asks, in a whisper filled with fear. Tommy doesn't even wait a beat before answering.
"For as long as you'll have me"
And as Bobby makes his way to the hospital chapel, he smiles to himself. Because he plans to be there for his son for a long time, that's for sure. But he is very glad that he is not the only one anymore.
I was tagged by @nzchance (thank you my love! ♥) and here's my first contribution for @bt-novempreg: a tiny bit of Ground Support, chapter 4, which is already 3,000 words and nowhere near over.
I hope you enjoy it:
“Both Gio and Vitti had me craving sugar from day one.” She glances at Tommy, eyes bright with affection. “Say, your friend Buck’s also expecting a girl, isn’t he? Are his cravings any better now he’s in the last trimester?”
Tommy’s heart skips a beat. The air shifts; barely perceptible, but enough. It’s like the room temperature drops five degrees.
“I… I don’t know,” he admits eventually, each word like a splinter. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
The silence turns heavy. Sal and Gina exchange a look over Gina’s belly—puzzled, a little worried. Tommy feels his face flush, suddenly fascinated by the tabletop.
“You… haven’t?” Sal repeats gently, like he’s hoping he misunderstood.
Tommy sighs, slow and broken, and just nods.
“What happened, honey?” Gina asks. Her voice is so soft—no judgment, no pressure. Just care.
And that’s what makes it worse.
"He… he kissed me. Ten days ago.", Tommy confesses, sighing brokenly. "And… and I got scared. Left. We haven't really talked since"
He feels Gina's hand taking his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Tommy looks up to find her looking at him with the earnest expression he's ever seen, and it makes him want to curl up and cry.
"Why did you get scared, Tommy?", she asks, and, well. That's the million dollar question, isn't it?
"I… I don't know. I was afraid he'd regret it the next day. That… that he was doing it for the wrong reasons"
"And did he?", Sal joins the conversation. "Regret it, I mean?"
Tommy shrugs helplessly, not sure about how to answer. "He… he texted me the next day. Said he was sorry, that nothing had to change."
"Sounds to me like he got scared too", Sal observes. "What did you answer?"
Tommy's silence and deep blush are answer enough. Gina gasps, smacking the same hand she's just been squeezing.
"Thomas Kinard! You're not telling me you've left the poor guy on read for ten days?! You don't do that to anyone, especially a pregnant person!"
"Ow!", he says, because his hand stings; Gina is freakingly strong. "I didn't leave him on read, ok? I… I told him it was fine and just… we didn't talk again. I didn't initiate it, and neither did he."
"Well, of course he didn't. The ball was in your court, Tommy", Sal says, as if Tommy is missing something particularly obvious.
"What am I supposed to tell him anyway?!" Tommy blows up, exasperated. "I can't tell him that I'm fine with things not changing, because I'm not! I… I can't be only his friend anymore. It hurts too much"
"Oh, honey", Gina says tenderly, giving his hand a gentle kiss. "Then you should tell him that"
"I… I can't", Tommy tells her quietly. "Not right now. He's vulnerable, and pregnant, and…"
"…And if you like him when he's like this, doesn't that mean your feeling is real?", she says astutely, and Tommy shrugs helplessly.
"But what if his aren't?" he asks, finally voicing the fear that’s been lodged in his chest for days.
Tommy likes Evan so much; the mere thought that Evan might not feel the same way—might not want him back, not like that—is enough to split him right down the middle.
"Sounds to me like they are, mate", Sal says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "But how will you know if you don't take a leap of faith?"
"Sal's right, sweetheart. Buck has already opened his heart; now it's your turn", Gina completes, her pudding long forgotten.
"Talk to him, Tommy", Sal urges, squeezing his shoulder. "Either way, you won't be any worse off than you are now — pining for him like a lovesick puppy in my kitchen"
Tommy chuckles weakly, and lets Sal wrap him in a hug. He knows their advice is solid; if he'll do something with it, that's another story altogether.
Tommy doesn’t sleep that night.
He tosses and turns until the first hint of morning light bleeds through the guest room window. By the time the sun is fully up, so is he — showered, dressed, and on his way to Evan's bakery, Sweet Corner.
There were a lot of reasons he made the decision. But mostly?
He just misses Evan.
Misses the warmth of the bakery, the scent of sugar in the air, the way Buck's whole face lights up when he sees him. The way he'd beam whenever Tommy tries a new recipe and lets him know how good it is.
He misses the way Evan strokes his bump and coos to his Clara, loving her with all his heart even before she's born.
If Tommy can have even a tenth of that love, he'll be a happy man.
So he needs to try.
He needs to tell Evan the truth, apologize for his cowardice and let him know that Tommy is in it for the long run. Wants to wrap Evan in his arms while he begs for forgiveness. Wants to take Evan's hand in his as he asks for another chance.
Tommy doesn't get to do any of that.
Because when he finally leaves the car to enter Sweet Corner, it's closed. The lights are out, the chalkboard is still inside, and there are no cupcakes on the display windows. Worst of all, no Evan behind the counter with a bag of frosting on his hand and the cutest frown between his eyebrows.
Tommy's stomach drops all the way down to his knees; the bakery is never closed at this hour, not unless it's Sunday, which is not the case.
Before he can even think, Tommy is reaching for his phone and calling Evan's number.
No answer.
There's panic rushing through his veins, but Tommy refuses to let it settle. He tries one more time, two, three; still nothing.
With his fingers trembling, he rolls through his contacts and tries Bobby next. If Evan is not answering, Bobby will. He has to.
And yet, he doesn't. The call goes straight to voicemail.
"Damn it!", Tommy gasps, his knuckles white where he's clutching his phone. His heart is hammering against his chest. "Okay, okay, who can I—"
Hit by a sudden inspiration, Tommy scrolls frantically through his contact list until he finds Howard.
It barely rings once before Chim picks up. "Tommy! I was wondering where you've been! Are you coming?"
"C-coming?", Tommy is so confused for a moment that he even forgets why he called Chim in the first place. "W-where?"
"To the hospital, of course!", Chim exclaims, as if Tommy's being particularly obtuse. "You're not gonna miss Clara's birth, are you?"
Np tagging @typicalopposite @agentpeggycartering @unhingedangstaddict @dark-alice-lilith @frogsinflannel and anyone else who has sth to share ♥
