Suddenly, a man was up in his face. ”Can I hug you?”
”Uh, sure,” Buck said.
The guy nearly knocked him off his feet. As Buck wrapped his arms around him, he hissed, ”Be my boyfriend.”
”What?”
”Guy behind me won't take a hint.”
”Hi, baby,” Buck said loudly. ”I couldn't find you! Have you been here long?” His boyfriend looked at him, seemingly taken aback by the theatrics.
”No, not long,” Boyfriend said and looked over his shoulder. ”This is… Sorry, I forgot your name?”
The other guy looked between them, held up his hands and turned on his heel.
Boyfriend breathed a sigh of relief and grimaced. ”Sorry about that.”
”Don't be,” Buck said easily. ”Not everyday you get a boyfriend.”
Boyfriend looked him up and down. ”You probably could, if you wanted.”
Buck felt his ears burn. ”Thanks.” He glanced around. ”Are you here by yourself?”
”I am. Bad move, it seems. Are you?”
”Oh, I'm with,” he pointed in the general direction of their table. ”Friends. Was gonna buy a round. If I get you one, will you help me carry them to the table?”
”Sure,” Boyfriend smiled.
Boyfriend orderd a fancy beer with a fancy pronounciation that Buck didn't quite catch. Together, they got the drinks safely to the table, where Buck made the introductions. ”This is Ravi and Eddie,” he pointed. ”And this is…”
”Tommy,” Boyfriend smiled.
”Tommy,” Buck said. Boyfriend fit him better. He looked at the drink in his hand. Maybe he should cut himself off. If he didn't, he was definitely going to forget the guy's name.
*
”Boyfriend!”
Boyfriend turned around, amusement clear on his face. ”What's up?”
”Give me your number! We should hang out sometime.”
Boyfriend shook his head, laughing, but closed the short distance between them. He held out his massive hand, silently asking for his phone. Buck patted his pocket and fished it out, handing it over. Suddenly, there was bright light in his face. He squinted. Then the light disappeared. Spots were dancing infront of his eyes, but he could still see Boyfriend. Oh. Face ID.
”Feel free to delete this when you're sober,” Boyfriend smiled and handed the phone back.
”I won't, but thanks,” Buck grinned. He closed one eye to see the screen better. He sent off a string of emojis, so Boyfriend had his number, too. ”It was really nice to meet you.” He stumbled forward and hugged Boyfriend goodbye.
”You, too,” he chuckled.
”Let me just,” Ravi said, appearing under his arm. ”I've got it. Nice to meet you, Tommy.”
Tommy.
Buck let Ravi and Eddie carry him home.
”Something you wanna tell us, Buck?” Eddie asked.
”What do you mean?”
Ravi rolled his eyes, loudly.
*
Bleary eyed, Buck checked for damages. Besides two made it home safe texts from Eddie and Ravi, there were no messages on any of his apps, from exes or worse.
Except a new thread with Boyfriend. Who the hell was Boyfriend? There was only one message, one from him to Boyfriend. A string of his most recently used emojis. Two of them were kissy faces.
kylo writes hux a love letter. by hand. writing by hand is positively archaic, so hux never learned how to write. hux wants to return the sentiment, but he doesn't know how.
Please reblog with your response to the above prompt, or submit your response to the kylux cantina!
my ultimate kink is sex that only involves hands down each other's pants. i don't care about the setting or why it's happening, but can someone please write a fic where hux and kylo have sex like that a couple of times?
we made it to the end! this has been an amazing experience, it feels like a community endeavor, i love each and every one of you <3
part one, part two, part three & part four.
-> also on ao3
The lasagna was still in the oven, when Tommy arrived, so they were enjoying the view from one of the balconies. Buck had stuck the magnetic timer to one of the outside chairs, so he'd hear it and the food wouldn't burn.
”You're definitely paying for the view.”
Buck snorted. ”I think I'm paying for everything.”
”The sunset must look unreal from here, with all those windows.”
”The sunrise isn't half bad either.” Buck turned and pointed up to the loft, where his bed was. ”Waking up early is pretty great, when you don't have to get out of bed to see it.”
Tommy regarded the loft. ”Alright, I'm starting to see the advantages of not having walls.”
Buck looked up as well, then back to Tommy. ”It's not about the walls, it's about the windows.”
”Having a lot of windows doesn't matter, if you have a lot of walls.”
”What are you talking about–”
They both jumped at the sound of the timer. Buck rushed to get the oven. He was extra careful, pulling the dish out of the oven. It would be just his luck to drop the thing, after spending all afternoon making it. He heard the timer magnetise onto the fridge, before he felt Tommy at his shoulder.
Tommy whistled. ”Looks delicious.”
”Yeah?”
”Very.” He patted Buck on the hip. ”Need help with anything?”
”If you could,” he gestured to the sides still sitting on the island. ”I'll get the drinks.”
As they sat down, Buck took in the spread before them. He was pretty happy with his efforts, even though he could think of a few things he could've done better. He hadn't asked about Tommy's preferences ahead of time. He waited to dig in, until Tommy did.
Tommy pointed to his plate with his fork. ”This is incredible.”
”Thank you,” Buck preened, relieved.
”I remember Bobby's lasagna. This is not that.”
”He's probably improved it, since you had it last.”
”Oh, no, baby, this is all you, I'm sure of it.”
Baby. The spine tingles persisted.
”I try,” he blushed. ”Bobby is a great teacher.”
”And you're a great student.”
His fork halted halfway to his mouth. ”Oh.”
”Doesn't matter how great he is. This,” Tommy gestured to the food, ”takes skill.”
He almost felt a lump in his throat. ”Th-thank you.”
Tommy smiled and kept eating. He loved everything and wasn't too shy to say so. It was the restaurant all over again. They kept talking.
They took a break between dinner and dessert, to go watch the sunset from the balcony, only to come back inside, and keep talking. Buck was running out of snacks and drinks to offer, but he didn't want Tommy to go. Buck had had his fair share of intense friendships over the years, but this was something else. The conversation was still flowing easily, and Tommy had made no indications about heading home, yet all Buck could think was don't leave.
Tommy was beautiful. When he laughed, it beamed out of his whole body. Even at rest, it was so clear on his face how much he'd smiled in his life. He followed everything Buck said so closely, taking all of it in and responding.
His chest felt tight, when he thought about how he wanted to do this every night. He wanted to listen to and know all of Tommy's stories. He wanted to call him when work was slow. He wanted him to breathe down his neck, while he read every plaque, at every museum in all of LA. He wanted to know every offensive hat Tommy owned.
They were already sitting at the corner of the table, right next to each other, but Buck scooted his chair back, to get the table out of the way. ”Come here for a sec?”
Tommy scooted back, too, then angled himself toward him. ”What's up?”
”I just need to–” His fingers clutched uselessly at the air, before he committed. His hands found the sides of Tommy's face and pulled him close. Tommy kept his eyes open, until the last second – maybe longer. Buck closed his eyes. Tommy's lips were warm and a little wet.
The kiss wasn't deep enough to taste him, but deep enough to make a small sound when they parted.
”Oh.”
”Oh?”
”Oh,” Buck said and dove back in. This was the part that was missing. He would've fallen off the chair, in his quest to get closer, if Tommy hadn't grabbed the legs and hitched it forward. Buck's weight made the chair screech across the floor. He wound his arms around Tommy's shoulders, holding on tightly, as if Tommy was going somewhere.
The position was awkward, their knees kept them apart. The only place Tommy's hands could comfortably go, was on Buck's thighs.
Buck broke the kiss, to take a breath, but didn't move away. His fingers found Tommy's bottom lip, needing to touch. ”Sorry, was that– was that OK?”
A smile bloomed across Tommy's face. ”Yeah, baby, that was OK.”
”I love when you call me that,” Buck said, more than a little dazed.
”I can tell.” Tommy nuzzled the side of his face. Buck was helpless not to chase it.
”Is that– is that why you do it?” His fingers trailed up the side of Tommy's face, to touch the smile lines around his eyes.
He could feel Tommy grin against his cheek. ”Well, we can't both be Boyfriend. That would be confusing.”
”You're not funny.”
”I'm hilarious.”
Buck giggled, and squirmed at the feeling of Tommy's scruff. ”You're not, I just smile a lot.”
”Get over here and smile some more.”
Buck abandoned his chair, and sat across Tommy's lap instead – this was not a straddling situation. The chair creaked and they both sat carefully still for a second. As solid as Tommy's lap felt, the chair didn't seem to be.
”I think we're good.”
”You sure?” Buck asked, hand reaching behind him for the kitchen island, just in case. Tommy wiggled, but there were no additional ominous sounds. ”This is not a problem I've ever had before,” he muttered.
Tommy laughed and buried his face in the crook of Buck's neck. Buck dug him out so they could kiss again.
Kissing Tommy was … well, it wasn't the kiss itself, it was his arms. They were so strong around him, it didn't feel like he could move, unless Tommy allowed him to.
This was what was missing. This was how all of their dates should have ended. He should have kissed Tommy after they got coffee, after they closed out the restaurant. He should have kissed him infront of the dire wolves, and after the aloe in the parking lot. He should have kissed him when Tommy held his hand at the Pollinator Meadow. He should have shoved Tommy into one of the helicopters at Harbor.
The only time he was happy about them not kissing, was at the club. If they'd kissed at the club, Buck wouldn't have remembered it, and not remembering his first kiss with Tommy would have broken his heart.
Their first kiss, was right here, in his kitchen, and he was going to remember that for the rest of his life.
”You OK?” Tommy asked softly.
”Yeah,” he smiled. ”Yeah, I think I just needed to catch up.”
”Catch up?”
”To you.” It was a little nonsensical, but Tommy seemed to understand.
”I'm glad you did.” Tommy nuzzled him.
They fell quiet again, for a moment. Buck tried to take it all in. What it felt like to be kissed by Tommy, how the breadth of his shoulders felt under his hands, how safe he felt. He touched his fingertips to Tommy's facial hair, and wondered at the fact that it didn't matter. Tommy being a man wasn't a factor at all.
Boyfriend took him out to dinner. A perfectly platonic dinner. The food was great, the company was even better. They stayed until the restaurant closed.
The logic wasn't sound, but Buck figured maybe a gay person could explain another gay person's behaviour, so he told Hen about the whole thing.
”Did he put the moves on you?”
”N-no.” He kissed my cheek and I've been thinking about it for four days. ”He was really sweet.” I wish I kissed him, too.
”Maybe he thinks it's funny,” Eddie said, butting into the conversation Buck hadn't invited him to.
”What's that?” Buck asked.
”Gay guys like making straight guys uncomfortable sometimes, right?”
Hen wrinkled her nose. ”I thought you met him?”
”I did, but he spent the whole night talking to Buck.”
”He doesn't make me uncomfortable,” Buck frowned.
Eddie held up his hands. ”It was just a suggestion.”
Buck looked at Hen. ”It wasn't like that. He's really sweet.”
Eddie continued to impose, ”Hey, what was his name?”
”He didn't tell me,” Buck muttered.
Hen grabbed his arm. ”Hold up. You went on a date with this man and you don't know his name?”
Buck felt the back of his neck go hot. ”It's funny, actually, see I saved his number in my phone, but I saved him as Boyfriend, and when I told him that, he thought it was hilarious and-and he won't tell me his name.”
”Do you think it's funny?” Hen asked pointedly.
The flush spread to his face. ”I, uhm, yeah.”
Hen gave him a look she usually reserved for when he talked about sex. ”I don't think I have any advice for this situation.”
”You're probably the only person who has ever been in this situation,” Eddie snickered.
They had two calls, back to back, so the conversation was cut short, but it didn't stop Buck from continuing to think about it.
When most of the others went to get some rest, Buck found a quiet corner to himself. It took effort to put the call through.
”Hi, baby.”
”Oh, my God,” Buck muttered under his breath. He didn't do it a lot, but when Boyfriend called him baby, it sent lightning down his spine. ”Hi,” he said at a normal volume.
”What can I do for you?”
He did his best to steel himself. ”You know I'm not gay, right?”
”I do,” Boyfriend hummed. ”Why?”
He looked at the notepad on the table infront of him, going down the line of things he wanted to say. I don't want to lead you on. We've been on two dates, you should just tell me your name. Why do I feel this way when I'm with you.
Buck turned over the notepad. ”Have you been to the Tar Pits?”
”Not since middle school.”
LA native. Interesting.
”Do you wanna go? With me? There's a new exhibit I haven't seen.”
”I would love to.”
*
Buck spent the next week daydreaming about holding Boyfriend's hand infront of the dire wolf wall.
*
Leaning on a railing, looking into one of the pits, he glanced at Boyfriend and found himself blushing again. ”Sorry. I know this is pretty … I don't know. I always dreamt about being one of those people from National Geographic, you know? But you have to be really smart, and I got kicked out of college, and so,” he shrugged, without finishing any of his sentences.
Boyfriend bumped their shoulders together. ”I'm sure plenty of dumb people work for National Geographic,” he smirked. ”But you're not dumb, Evan. And you're definitely smarter than me.”
Buck didn't feel smart. He'd had plenty of opportunities to sneak a glance at Boyfriend's bank cards, or his signature, and he hadn't. Hell, he could've looked him up on Facebook. There were probably a lot of men with the last name Kinard in LA, but Buck could've found him.
”Hey.”
”Hey,” Boyfriend leaned in a little closer.
”Would you tell me your name, if I asked?”
”I would,” he smiled. ”Are you gonna ask me?”
Buck bit his lip. ”Not yet.”
They made their way through more of the exhibits, reading all the information together. Boyfriend didn't care how slowly Buck moved, or how many times he got out his phone to look something up.
”Wanna do something dumb?”
”With you? Absolutely.” Boyfriend eyed the pit. ”Unless you wanna jump the fence. I've seen people stuck in hot asphalt and it's so much more horrific than you can imagine.”
Buck shuddered. ”Uh, no, I wanted– Wanna go inside?”
Boyfriend linked their arms together, and took his weight easily, when Buck missed a step.
Most people probably wouldn't say so, but standing infront of four-hundred carefully mounted skulls was pretty romantic, as far as Buck was concerned. Or maybe it was the yellow backlight.
He'd been on a sailboat once. A small one. They sailed through the night. All of them had been young men, but when the sun set and they turned on the red cabin lights, it had been pretty damn romantic. Faces looked different in low light. Details disappeared. Freckles, eyes colours, wrinkles. It felt more intimate somehow, when people went soft around the edges.
They weren't holding hands, but they were touching. Their shoulders were resting against each other. Boyfriend was a little pink across the nose.
”What's your name?” Buck asked, without taking his eyes off the dire wolf skulls.
Boyfriend held out his hand. Buck took it. ”Off-duty firefighter-pilot Tommy Kinard with the 217.”
Buck's jaw dropped. ”We're colleagues?”
Boyfriend laughed. ”You made the same face the first time I told you.”
”You're a pilot?”
”I am.”
”Wait, no. No, if you're a pilot, you're definitely smarter than me. Pilots do so much math.”
”Being good at math doesn't make you smart.”
”Holy shit.” Buck couldn't stop shaking his hand. ”Wait, say it again?”
”Tommy.”
”I like Boyfriend better.”
Boyfriend laughed, loud and unrestrained. Buck couldn't help but join him.
”Wait, come here, I think you got a sunburn.” He turned Boyfriend's face away from the yellow light, to get a better look. ”I have aloe in my car.”
”So do I.”
”Right,” Buck ducked his head. ”First responder. Your car is probably full of shit.”
He got out of bed and chugged as much water as he could, without throwing up, before contemplating what to do. Eddie would make fun of him, but he would probably do that anyway.
”There's a new contact in my phone, do you have any idea who it is?”
Eddie laughed so hard, Buck had to pull the phone away from his ear. ”Oh, man, I forgot about that.”
”Do you remember him?”
”Not really. He was tall.”
Tall. That wasn't exactly helpful. ”You remember his name? It was a guy, right?”
”Did he not put his name in?”
”Uh, no. He's saved as boyfriend.” That set Eddie off again. ”You know what, I'll call Ravi.”
”Ravi will know,” Eddie said, still laughing. Ravi definitely knew who Boyfriend was, but calling Ravi also came with a spiel about responsible alcohol consumption.
Buck did not call Ravi. He took a deep breath and called Boyfriend.
”Go for Kinard.”
Oh, shit. That was more professional sounding than he expected. Christ. Hopefully he hadn't met a tradesperson in the line to the bathroom again.
”Hi! So, this is gonna sound crazy, but did you give your number to me last night?”
”… Evan?”
”That is my name, yes. What's yours? Other than Kinard. I'm assuming Kinard is your last name. It sounds like a last name.”
”I put it in your phone.”
Fuck. OK. ”Right. I mean, that makes sense, but I must have changed it. Because it doesn't say that.”
”Uh-huh,” Boyfriend said. ”What's it say, then?”
Buck cringed. ”It-it says boyfriend. Just boyfriend.”
”Oh, so you deleted all of it.”
”I guess, yeah. What's your name?”
Boyfriend snickered. ”You know what, I think this is more fun.”
”What? No.”
”For me, it is.”
”Are you seriously gonna leave me hanging like that?”
”Oh, absolutely.”
His hangover wasn't too happy about it, but he heard himself asking, ”Can I buy you a drink? A coffee drink. Coffee. Can I buy you a coffee?”
”Yes, you can.”
*
Buck looked around the patio. He had no idea what he was looking for. Eddie said tall, but everyone was sitting. A guy came up and stood at his shoulder, but he also seemed to be looking for someone, so he didn't ask. The guy found who he was looking for and went to sit down. As Buck tracked him with his eyes, he saw someone straighten in their seat.
He walked over and asked, ”Boyfriend?”
”Hi, baby.”
Buck felt himself physically cringe. And maybe squirm a little. ”Please tell me I didn't call you that.”
”I mean,” Boyfriend tilted his head. ”I did ask you to. Sort of.”
Buck pulled out a chair and sat down, so he could hunch his shoulders more effectively. ”Whatever I did last night, I'm – I'm so sorry.”
”You think you did something bad?” he smiled.
”It wouldn't be out of character.”
Boyfriend took mercy on him. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned in, voice lowered, ”You helped me out of a tight spot. Nothing nefarious, I assure you.”
”And w-what spot was that?”
”Had a very … tenacious suitor.” Buck looked at him blankly. ”You pretended to be my boyfriend, to get him to leave me alone. Which I asked you to do, to be clear.”
Buck deflated into the table top and exhaled deeply. ”OK, I can live with that.”
Boyfriend smiled. ”You bought me a drink and introduced me to your friends. You were the perfect gentleman.”
”Why did I ask for your number? Did I say?”
”I believe you wanted to hang out? Couldn't get a read on the implications there. You smile a lot.”
Oh, no. Oh, no. Boyfriend. Boyfriend was gay – or at the very least into men. ”I am so sorry. I mean, thank you! That's nice of you to say, but I am so sorry.”
”About what?”
”Just – the whole thing.”
”Apology accepted?”
There was a cup on the table, so Boyfriend already got one for himself. ”Can I get you anything? Pastry? Another coffee?”
”If you want to, sure.”
Buck got up from the table. ”I'll get you a pastry. Be right back. Don't leave.”
Boyfriend had a great smile, holy shit. Buck could feel the back of his neck getting warm. While waiting in line, he tried to calm down. Buck was flustered, but he couldn't tell why. He didn't do anything wrong, as far as Boyfriend said, and he was being polite.
He got a coffee for himself, and the most expensive pastry in the case. He couldn't stomach anything solid for himself.
He really did look like a boyfriend. He lit up at the sight of the pastry. ”Thank you.”
Buck wondered what he'd been wearing last night. Boyfriend was in casual clothes now, which he was wearing the hell out of, but if he'd been dressed up, he must have looked incredible.
”Did you have a good time? With us?”
”I had a great time,” Boyfriend said. ”Clubs aren't really my thing, but your friends are fun, so it was better than it usually is.”
”Did you go home with anyone?” Buck didn't know why he asked, but he waited with bated breath for the answer.
He had a curious look on his face. ”I didn't.”
Buck sipped his too hot coffee, to give himself time to come up with a fix. ”It's just, we usually wingman for each other. M-maybe we did that for you?”
”It didn't come up.” Boyfriend brushed a crumb from the corner of his mouth and leaned over the table. ”You were too busy talking to me, I think,” he said and tilted his head.
Buck had to drag his eyes away from Boyfriend's mouth, but it only led him to staring at his hair instead. He had an extremely soft looking curl, just above his hairline. Boyfriend was movie star handsome. Old school movie star. Buck only knew their faces, not their names, but that was the kind of handsome Boyfriend was.
”What did we talk about?”
”Heroics. You're a very busy guy.” Boyfriend's eyes sparkled. He was clearly enjoying that Buck didn't remember a thing.
If he'd talked about work, he had a pretty good idea of what stories he'd been telling. Luckily he was sober at work, so at least he remembered that.
He looked at the breadth of Boyfriend's shoulders, the size of his arms. ”You look pretty heroic yourself.”
Boyfriend's whole face crinkled when he smiled. ”Oh, I am.”
Buck sighed. ”You told me last night, didn't you?”
”I did.”
”Alright,” Buck grabbed the sides of the table and leaned in a little closer, ”what do I have to do for you to tell me?”
”Oh, we're negotiating?” Boyfriend beamed. ”Let me think.”
Buck found himself squirming. Boyfriend's smile was intense.
”We could go for dinner? This weekend? There's this place I've been dying to go to, but I don't want to go alone.”
”I'm free this weekend.”
”Yeah?”
”Yeah,” Buck nodded. ”Dinner sounds good.”
”It's a date.”
Buck swallowed. Dates didn't have to be romantic. He went out to dinner with Eddie sometimes, and that probably counted as a date. Neither one of them called it that, but they could. If they wanted.
we're almost there! this is part four of five.
part one, part two & part three.
Tommy drove a truck, a blue truck. It was old enough to have a tape deck, but it looked really nice. It was meant as a joke, but when Buck saw the truck, he actually did want a tour of it. Of course the whole thing was stocked with safety equipment, as well as a go-bag stashed under the seat.
”There's a tent and a hammock behind that.”
Buck grinned at him. ”I need to step up my game. I'm not far behind! But this is, this is more than I thought to put in mine.”
”Let me find the aloe. Your ears are red,” Tommy said, as he dove head first into the cabin.
”Ah, shit,” Buck muttered. He touched the top of his ears, hoping he was just blushing, but the skin started to burn, as soon as he touched it.
Tommy pushed a baseball cap onto Buck's head, and brandished a bottle of aloe vera gel. ”Want me to do it?”
Buck adjusted the brim, so he could actually see. He glanced at the side view mirror, but the idea of Tommy doing it was much more appealing.
With gentle hands, Tommy applied the gel to Buck's ears and the tip of his nose. When Tommy offered the bottle, Buck happily returned the favour. It really wasn't bad at all, maybe two days max, until it wouldn't smart anymore.
”I meant to ask – what does being gay have to do with the Tar Pits?”
Buck nearly dropped the bottle. ”Oh! N-nothing. I was trying to say two things at once.” He felt the skin of Tommy's nose crinkle up under his fingers.
”Alright,” Tommy said, eyes slightly squinted. ”Wanna get something to eat?”
*
As he washed his hands, Buck looked in the mirror. ”Oh, shoot.” He took the cap off his head, getting water all over it. Yup, even with the letters the right way around, they still spelled daddy across the front. He stood there, frozen, water dripping down his forearms, not knowing if he should put it back on.
It was Tommy's cap, which put one tick in the yes-column. Maybe Tommy only had the one cap in his truck and it didn't mean anything. But it was also possible Tommy had more than one and chose this one on purpose.
He startled, when the door to the restroom opened. Buck put the hat back on, finished washing his hands, and went back into the restaurant, back to their table.
Tommy eyed the wet cap. ”Did you get in a fight with the sink?”
Instead of saying shit like this was pretty on par with who he was as a human being, Buck said, ”I hadn't seen the embroidery,” and pointed to it, as if that was necessary.
Tommy chuckled. ”I have a friend who likes to online shop and hate crime me the entirety of June. That one is the least offensive.”
”If you don't like it, you don't have to keep it,” Buck frowned.
”A free hat is a free hat,” Tommy tilted his head. ”And you kept it on.”
Hopefully the brim covered most of his blush. ”It's pretty funny.”
Tommy eyed him over the rim of his glass. ”Great conversation starter, too.”
Buck couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun. Tommy was constantly keeping him on his toes.
Walking back to their cars, Buck contemplated catching Tommy's hand. Tommy called them dates and maybe they were, but holding hands was maybe a bit too … something.
”I'm working over the weekend, but I've got time on Monday, if you wanted to go to that exhibit?”
Buck blinked at him. Oh. He'd rambled about the Natural History Museum earlier. The pits had reminded him of the gardens. He checked the calendar on his phone. ”How about Tuesday?”
Tommy smiled. ”Tuesday works.” He crowded into Buck's personal space, cupped the side of his face and pulled him close enough to kiss his cheek, instead of moving his own head. ”Get home safe,” he said, and tapped Buck on the leg. Buck wasn't sure if it counted as his thigh or his butt. Tommy hit him hard enough that he felt his inner thigh jiggle.
*
”Tommy Kinard is your boyfriend?”
”He's not my boyfriend, I just call him that.”
Chimney blinked at him. ”I don't see the difference.” He looked at Hen. ”Is there supposed to be a difference?”
Hen leaned in, as if Buck couldn't hear them, ”I don't think we can keep up with the kids on this one.”
Buck rolled his eyes and walked away. He needed to call Tommy and tell him his old coworkers just called him a kid. ”Is that what situationship means?” he heard Chimney ask, before he bounded down the stairs and out of earshot.
He tucked himself into a nook, just inside the bay doors, phone to his ear.
”Hi, baby.”
Buck squirmed. ”Hi, Boyfriend. Chimney says hi.”
”Who?”
Maybe it wasn't inaccurate to say they were boyfriends. By middle school standards, they did all the stuff they were supposed to. Tommy held his hand at the Pollinator Meadow.
As they talked about nothing, Buck found himself scuffing his boots against the floor, much like he'd done when he'd asked Scarlett to the winter formal. Scarlett said no with the same confidence that Tommy kept saying yes.
The only thing stopping Buck from asking – and kissing back – was that he didn't know. He couldn't figure out if he wanted a boyfriend. He wanted to keep hanging out with Tommy, he knew that for sure, but … But from that to boyfriend.
Something was missing.
”I've never been to Harbor.”
”Want a tour?”
*
Harbor Station was amazing. Every other word out of Buck's mouth was cool.
Tommy was still in uniform. Their shifts ended at the same time, so he could have changed, while Buck made the drive over. Buck was glad he didn't. He saw the uniform every day, but Tommy wore the hell out of it. Whoever designed them, definitely had people like Tommy in mind when they made it.
Tommy jostled him a little. ”Everything OK?”
Buck thought about the daddy hat he still had in his car, that he wore every time he drove. Thought about how easy Tommy offered himself up. How he didn't push, didn't tease, didn't make Buck feel any type of way.
He rubbed the back of his neck, and shoved his other hand deeper into his pocket. ”I'm thinking about the boyfriend thing.”
”What about it?”
”We're not boyfriends. You know that, right?”
”I do,” Tommy smiled, like it wasn't a big deal.
I'm not into men was on the tip of his tongue, but what came out was, ”I haven't dated a man before.”
Tommy's smile didn't waver. ”You're doing pretty well so far.”
”Thanks,” he said mildly. He couldn't argue that they weren't dating, because they were. Tommy was taking him on dates. That was what dating meant. Maybe dating didn't have to be inherently romantic.
”We still on for tomorrow?”
Speaking of. ”We are. I'm getting groceries on the way home.” He was going to cook for Tommy at the loft. He'd spent most of his shift grilling Bobby for every detail he possibly could, to make sure the lasagna would turn out the way it was supposed to.
AU where Tommy and Evan are about the same age, and join the Academy at the same time.
Evan clocks the haunted look in Tommy's eyes and sticks to him like a limpet. On day one, he introduces himself as Evan, Evan Buckley. Tommy, who is still on military time, grunts Kinard and wonders, why are you being vulnerable with me right now? He's used to last names, nicknames and call signs. Evan has never met a stray he didn't love, and Tommy is too baffled by the kindness and sunshine to cut him off.
They're about evenly paced, with wildly different personalities.
Tommy and Evan are in similar living situations. Evan is at the frat house, Tommy is at a vet house. Not an official one, but one that's known in certain circles. A guy from his unit hooked him up.
They're an odd pair, which is something that's commented on a lot. Evan is drawn to the younger recruits, Tommy is drawn to the older ones. Evan talks constantly, Tommy doesn't talk at all.
Every weekend Tommy has to remind himself it's a weekend and not leave. He needs to be able to function come Monday, but it's harder than it sounds. Hangovers are far from the worst thing to work around. He pukes between drills, but it's fine, his body is a machine. At least there's no sand here. Anakin Skywalker was onto something. Tommy has always hated the beach.
Toward the end of the Academy, when the captains start hanging around, Evan gets a lot of attention. He's been breaking records left and right, and clearly has what it takes. Skill wise, Tommy is about the same, but he doesn't push himself the way Evan does. Tommy is used to the power structure, and doing things he doesn't want to do. He's the kind of obedient that's sought after.
The 118 are still short-staffed after cleaning the house post Captain Gerrard, so both Evan Overachiever Buckley and Thomas Torment Nexus Kinard go to the 118. Evan on A-shift, Tommy on C-shift.
The friendship would have fizzled out, if Evan was capable of taking a hint. Everyone calls him Buck, but Tommy still calls him Buckley. Evan assures him it's OK, he doesn't have to do that anymore, but Tommy just blinks at him. He calls everyone by their last names, it's efficient. Evan thinks Tommy is the funniest person in the world. Tommy doesn't get that either.
Captain Nash manages to take Evan down several notches. Tommy gets a handle on the alcohol consumption. The probationary period changes both of them, in various different ways. They manage to meet up about once a week. Evan has a new existential crisis every week. He tells Tommy he's a great listener. Tommy isn't so sure about that.
They're each other's emergency contact. The first time Evan lands in the hospital, Tommy is in the visitor seat. Same thing happens when it's Tommy's turn. Tommy hates the frat house. Evan hates the vet house. They make a deal to find a place together, if they make it through their probationary period.
They're there for each other, through the losses and the setbacks.
Tommy never tells Evan not to do something, all Tommy does is stick around. When something inevitably goes wrong, Tommy is there. It doesn't feel like anything, doesn't take any effort. To Evan it's everything.
Tommy thought he had a handle on things, but the longer he's been out, the more feelings come to the surface. He lashes out. Evan never tells him not to. Sometimes he just listens, other times he finds something for them to do; something destructive or something that tires them out. Evan reminds Tommy that he's a person. It doesn't feel like anything, it doesn't take effort at all. Tommy is pretty sure he would have done something drastic, if he didn't have Evan.
They pin each other's shields and find a house together. The place barely has running water, but Evan's credit is shit and Tommy has lived in a tent. It's perfect. Evan has the confidence of a man in his twenties, and Tommy is all too happy to sit back and see what happens.
It will take them the better part of a decade to get the house in order, but neither one of them is in a hurry. Neither one of them are in contact with their families. Evan hooks up on the regular, but he never brings them to the house. Tommy doesn't date or hook up, so there is no one to bring around. The state of the house doesn't matter, as long as the two of them are comfortable.
They sleep in the same bed from the moment they move in. At first, the living room is the only room that's suitable to be in, so they get a mattress to share. With their shift work, they get the bed to themselves often enough. When one of the bedrooms is good enough to sleep in, they move the mattress in there. By the time the second bedroom is good to go, it feels weird to get a second mattress. Evan is the one who's most reluctant to get one.
One night in bed, Tommy tells him he's gay. In the privacy of his own head, he can admit he does it to scare Evan off, and make him get that second mattress. It doesn't work. Evan looks at him softly and asks about it. Tommy has never told another living soul about any of it. He can't remember a time where he didn't know he was into men. Evan, curious as ever, ask what it's like, asks what Tommy's attraction looks like. Tommy gives him a rambling reply, that's halfway poetic, halfway nonsensical.
Evan has a private moment of his own. He recognises it. What Tommy describes, Evan recognises it in himself. But this is Tommy's moment, so he doesn't share it.
The next day, he buys a second mattress.
Tommy is confused about it. And confused about his own confusion. He wanted Evan to have his own bed and now he does. They get through a week of weird tension, that they can't work on because they're not home at the same time. When they finally have twenty-four hours together, Evan admits he slept in Tommy's bed, because he couldn't fall asleep in his own. Tommy did the same, but he struggles to admit it. Instead, he shrugs and tells Evan to come back, if he sleeps better.
That night, Evan spoons him like he's done a million times before, except this time, he wiggles under Tommy's blankets to do it. Tommy goes rigid, like Evan figured he would. Evan tucks his face between Tommy's shoulderblades and goes to sleep.
In the morning, Tommy extricates himself from the tangle of Evan's limbs, to get ready for work. He freezes in the door of the bedroom, when Evan calls after him. ”Come home to me.” Tommy doesn't turn around, doesn't say anything. He gets ready and heads to the station. In his car, it spins around and around in his head. It was a silly thing to say, because the next time they see each other won't be at home, but when A-shift takes over from C-shift.
It's been an easy shift, so when Evan pulls into the lot, Tommy is ready to leave. Tommy stands around, semi awkwardly, duffel over his shoulder. He's freshly showered and everything. The shift was that boring. Evan walks up to him with his own duffel, smiling and nervous as all hell. He's putting on a cocky face, but Tommy has known that face for years, knows it like the back of his hand.
He's had twenty-four hours to come up with a line, but he's got nothing. They stand around for a second, just looking at each other. ”Stay safe,” is what tumbles out of Tommy's mouth. The brave smile on Evan's face falls away. He swallows audibly. ”I will.” They linger for a moment longer, not touching, not saying anything.
Tommy heads home and deep cleans the house instead of sleeping. Evan walks face first into a streetlight on shift and dreads having to explain why he did that.
They're both wild around the eyes – and bruised, in Evan's case – when Evan comes home. Tommy smells like vinegar. Evan smells like sweat.
”What part of stay safe did you not understand?”
Sheepish, Evan gestures wildly and says, ”Apparently I can't do that and think about you at the same time.”
They're standing infront of each other, in the house they're quite literally building together, both thinking, if this blows up in my face, I have nowhere to go.
Evan moves first, because it has to be Evan. They both know it has to be. It doesn't matter how much Tommy wants something, he won't take it. He touches Tommy's face, with a reverence he's never felt before. When Tommy fucked up his wrist, Evan helped him shave, and he was careful, but not like this. No, this is much more dangerous than razors against arteries, because Tommy looks scared. In all the time they've known each other, Evan has never seen him scared. Tommy's hands hover somewhere in the vicinity of Evan's lower back. He can almost feel the heat transfer, from those big, capable hands.
Tommy closes his eyes before Evan kisses him. Evan looks at him and keeps looking at him, as he presses his lips to Tommy's mouth. Tommy's hands are shaking, when Evan feels them on his body. He closes his eyes and presses forward, fingers cradling Tommy's face. He moans, because it feels good. Tommy is warm and solid and right here; still scared out of his mind, but he's here.
Something shifts and suddenly Evan is being held like he's never been held before. Tommy's arms go tight around his ribs, they're pressed together from their heads to their knees, trying not to step on each other's feet. A breathless ”Evan” is exhaled between them and Evan suddenly feels like he's about to cry. He's scared, too, but underneath it all, Tommy has been the only constant in his life, the only person who sees him as he is and has made no efforts to change him. Hasn't sneered or rolled his eyes or laughed or given him the silent treatment. And OK, Tommy has called him stupid, but only when it was warrented and he didn't leave afterwards.
”I like you so much,” Evan says, because he can't not say it. ”You're so important to me.”
Neither one of them are good at talking, so Tommy nods and says, ”Me, too.”
All the walls in their house are different colours, because they can't agree on anything. Neither of the beds have bedframes, which is bad for both them and the mattresses, but they flip them as often as they remember. Evan is getting pretty good at cooking and writes a meal plan every week, and sticks it on the fridge. The backyard looks like a scrap heap and there's a suspiciously fat looking cat living in it, that they've been trying to get inside for weeks. Tommy makes sure Evan's Jeep keeps running, and calls anyone who wrongs Evan an asshole, whether it's warrented or not. Evan has been looking into therapy resources for vets, and Tommy loves him more than he's ever loved anything, even if he can't say it.
”I mean it, Tommy, I do.”
”I know,” Tommy says and kisses him again. ”I know you do,” because being heard, being believed is what matters to Evan. Evan doesn't tell him things he doesn't mean, even when they fight. Sometimes the words come out in the wrong order, but Tommy stays until he gets them right, and no one has ever done that before.
They need to talk, really talk. They both want to – and they will – but Tommy pulls on him, and stumbles backwards, toward the bedroom.
”I haven't–” Evan says, as if Tommy doesn't already know.
