Hi! Eons later, an answer for @setmeatopthepyre from the Short & Impactful prompts 💖
“Ah- Tommy,” Buck gasps as Tommy nips his collarbone and uses one hand to press his hip against the mattress. Having the familiar weight on top of him again is beyond surreal. Better than he could have hoped for when he invited Ravi out tonight. It’s the most comfortable he’s felt in months.
His ex is kissing him like nothing’s changed, like he needs Buck to survive. The feeling is definitely mutual. Except for the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him this is temporary and not to get his hopes up. He’s always been good in bed and that’s the thing that brought Tommy back. Not Buck, just a distraction from every unspoken thing between them.
“What, baby? What do you want?” Tommy rolls his hips, creating a delicious friction that Buck just wants to chase.
“I want- nngh- I wanted-” He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He wants everything, wanted everything before. The sex, deep conversations, arguments about who’s turn it is to do dishes, waking up next to each other. All of it. And right now he’s sure all he’ll be left with is an empty bed in the morning and broken heart. “I want to forget you.”
Tommy freezes, raising his gaze to meet Buck’s. It’s a little ridiculous considering Tommy’s wild curls, mussed from Buck running his fingers through them, relishing the way they felt against his fingertips.
“You- you want to forget me?” His expression is close to their last night, the night he walked away. Shocked, surprised, incredulous.
Buck sniffs, swallows back the wave of conflicting emotions that he’s only been able to avoid until now thanks to baking and other distractions. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter and less confident that he would prefer.
“Tommy,” he whispers, sweeping his thumb back and forth across Tommy’s cheekbone. “You said from the beginning that you didn’t think I was ready. And you were right. But you were also wrong.”
Tommy furrows his brow. “I don’t understand.”
“You see, I wasn’t ready. Not for you to kiss me, or want to take me to dinner and get to know me more. I wasn’t ready when I realized I wanted everything with you. But once I let it sink in, it all made sense. And I was ready. I wanted to hold your hand, and not necessarily dive into forever, but at least take that next step. Together. Except-”
“I wasn’t ready,” Tommy supplies.
“Why?” Buck pleads, his voice shaky. “Why wasn’t I good enough?”
“Sweetheart, no.” Tommy brushes his lips against Buck’s forehead, his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose. “You- god, Evan. No, you were perfect. It was me, how I only saw heartbreak and fear. The same story I’ve seen played out whenever I finally got brave enough to go after what I wanted. And I just- I knew I couldn’t watch that happen with you, Evan.” He squeezes his eyes shut, like it’s too painful for them to see each other while he says his next words. “I couldn’t let that happen because I knew I wouldn’t survive when you left.”
“When?” His eyes sting, flooding with the tears he’s been holding back. His heart beats wildly in his chest, angry and confused as to why he still wants the man in front of him to have it. To hold it in his hands and treat it as preciously as he ever has. “Why do you get to decide that? Why do you get to break your own heart - and mine - because you’ve already decided you know how we end? That I’m a- a placeholder for everyone else in your past?”
“Evan, you were never-”
“No,” he interjects. “Don’t- just don’t. Okay? This was a mistake. It’s always a mistake. This is why I wanna forget. I always think I can just do shit without catching feelings and acting like it’s not a big deal. Pretending like I can walk away and it’s fine because it’s a one way thing.”
Tommy snorts, raising an eyebrow. “Now who’s deciding for everyone?”
“Come on. You don’t have to rub it in my face. But tell me I’m wrong. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t just come here to fuck, have a good time, and leave again.”
“Well,” Tommy inhales deeply, chest pushing against Buck’s like they could merge if he does it hard enough. When he breathes out, their eyes meet again, blue on blue. It’s steady, unwavering. “I was hoping to at least make you breakfast.”
“Be serious.”
“I am. Look, I know I fucked up. I hurt you before. But maybe…” He trails off for a moment, curling his lips in. “Maybe we can try again. Not necessarily all the way at the beginning. Just- slower this time.”
Buck searches Tommy’s face for signs of uncertainty, or that he’s just being placating and telling him what he thinks he wants to hear. If any of that’s present, though, Buck can’t find it.
“You think you’re ready this time?”
“I don’t know when, or how much I’m ready for – and I can’t guarantee I won’t be scared again and fuck up – but I am ready for something. Especially with you.”
“Yeah?” Buck asks, quiet and hesitant.
“Yeah.” He playfully rubs the tip of his nose against Buck’s before resting their foreheads together. Buck greedily breathes him in, taking in the scent of cinnamon and embers, falling leaves and all things inherently Tommy.
“So,” Tommy tilts his head slightly, murmuring against his lips. “What are you doing Saturday?”
mandatory tags for @diazsdimples and @bidisasterevankinard 😘
this one directly follows this snippet, also spicy!
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He wanted them off, could barely remember why he'd insisted on keeping them on in the first place.
"Evan?" Tommy stilled above him, looking at him in concern, and Buck realized he'd been repeating off, off, off out loud.
"The cuffs," he said hurriedly. "I mean the cuffs, Tommy, please, need to touch you—"
Tommy nodded in understanding, leaning over to the nightstand again to grab the keys. He unlocked Buck's wrists, massaging them gently, but Buck lasted maybe thirty seconds of that before he was growling, flipping them over. Tommy slipped out of him in the shuffle, blinking dazedly up at him as he settled, straddling Tommy's hips.
"all right kiddo, what are the rules?" sal asked.
"listen to uncle tommy. no life drawing on the wall mural. and no more calling him a sad sack to his face," stella said, dropping her backpack in the front hall. "i am allowed as much sugar as i want."
"who told you that last one?" sal asked, frowning.
"i believe you call him mr. sad sack," tommy said, coming out of the kitchen. "hey stell, there's some cookies in here if you're hungry."
"you giving my kid a sugar high, tommy?" sal asked, gently pushing stella towards the kitchen.
"hopefully several. consider this payback," tommy smirked at him. "you got everything before you and gina head out of town?"
"it's not my fault you're my only babysitter without a hot date tonight," sal told him, grinning. "especially since it's your own damn fault."
"thank you so much for that."
"heads up, she's determined to lean into the valentine's thing and watch as many romcoms as you let her get away with," sal warned him.
"yeah, i don't think that's going to be an issue in this house."
"okay, if you get her to school on monday that would be great, but she's allowed to miss a day to hang out with her uncle," sal continued. "gina and i have our phones, we're back for dinner because i have a shift on tuesday, and—"
"i have done this before," tommy interrupted, turning sal around and opening the door. "goodbye, see you on monday, go get laid."
"gross, not in front of my kid."
"she's twelve, i think she knows how she got here."
"it was a stork, right dad?" stella asked, popping out from the kitchen, a cookie shoved in her mouth.
"exactly." sal pointed at her. "be good, love you, your mom is about to drive off without me."
tommy waited until they heard the car pulling out of the driveway before giving stella a high five. "nice work there, kid."
"thanks for the set-up," stella grinned at him. "so, i heard something about movies?"
"pride and prejudice or bend it like beckham?"
"both, obviously."
"you're right, i don't know what i was thinking. pizza or chinese?"
“The postcards are reminders.” Buck says, a bit of a defeated tone to his voice.
“Reminders?” Hen asks.
“That I have people who care about me, what happens to me. That I’m not alone in the world.” Buck says to the floor, unable to look his friends- his family- in the eyes.
“Oh, Buck. You have us.” Hen says, with nothing but affection for Buck, a sympathetic look in her eye. She forgets, sometimes, what he’s been through.
“Now. Not then. Not when I first got to the station, when I was in the academy, when I got to LA. Back then Michael was the only person in my life who cared about me, actually cared about me.” Buck said, voice breaking. “He was the only friend I had for a long time, not just a roommate or a hookup or a shallow acquaintance. And he knew that, knew that loneliness. We kept in touch after I left Roswell and he started sending those,” Buck gestured to the postcards in his locker. “And I started putting them in my locker, so that I could have that reminder at the start of every shift, before throwing myself into danger, and at the end of the shift, on those really bad days. I just needed the reminder that someone cared about me and that I had to be careful.”
“And now?”
“Well, it’s still nice to know that people outside of all of you care about me. That Michael still cares about me. He knows me, and he knows I still need reminding. Plus, he’s a bit of a worrier and I know that sometimes the postcards aren’t always about me. They’re about him too. And other people, I just happen to be a convenient outlet.”
I saw your tags on that very......Lou picture and just had to say as a fellow Dutch person I'm glad someone else just has an immediate "nah" reaction to orange clothing :')
haha right? I mean orange just makes me think of the ridiculous shit football fans dress up in - or royal family fans.
NOBODY looks good in orange.
though I wouldn't mind testing the theory and have Lou pose for a few pictures in that orange thong. For research purposes of course!
I have been so careless with the words I already have. I don’t remember how to say home in my first language, or lonely, or light. I remember only delam barat tang shodeh, I miss you, and shab bekheir, goodnight.
Oh!! I heard this one! He performed it on button poetry, right? It’s so beautiful though, thank you <33
anonymously send me obscure fragments of your favorite poems!
setmeatopthepyre hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet: @setmeatopthepyre has tagged me, so here we go...
We have so much in common :D
dude, DUDE, let’s start a gang.
we’ll have jackets. with a lion batteling a bull at sunset on the back, and on the shoulders there will be little navy stripes, but in the colours of the bisexual pride flag, to match the colours of the sunset
