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So Buck didn’t get fired today, but it was a near thing. And obviously he’s happy about it—because he didn’t get fired!—but he also royally messed up. Bobby had looked so disappointed in him Buck wanted to shrivel up and die on the spot. He knows he has a problem keeping it in his pants, but he’s young and good looking, and he can’t help it if he attracts a lot of female attention. Who was Buck to say no when he can show someone a good time; he loved seeing the satisfied looks on their faces when they’re done.
He smiles a little at the memories. But his smile drops off his face when he once more remembers the anger and betrayal on Bobby’s face when he caught him with the snake girl.
Buck sighs. He picks at the label on his beer bottle as he hunches in on himself.
He’d been invited to go grab drinks with the rest of the team, a dual celebration of not getting fired and saving Athena from the home invaders. An invite Buck had turned down because while he was happy things turned out for the better, he wasn’t really in a mood to celebrate. Instead, he’d found himself in another badge & ladder bar a little of the way of the 118’s usual haunt. O’Reilly’s was closer to the harbor than it was to inner city LA, so Buck was safe from accidentally running into anyone he may know. Though part of him did wish he had agreed to join the team, given he’s always loved company—he’d been by himself so often in his life and he’s always hated those times. Like right now, he was all by his lonesome at an unfamiliar bar surrounded by the faces of many unfamiliar first responders.
Buck sighs again, lifting his bottle to take a sip of his nearly room temperature beer (unpleasant to say the least).
A warm body slides up against his right as he sets the bottle down, but Buck doesn’t pay it any mind. He can tell from the solid wall of muscles that he can feel just from the person standing by him that it was a guy—a big one too—and therefore not really of any concern to Buck. The guy probably just accidentally stood too close, given that the bar wasn’t exactly uncrowded.
But the wall of muscles lingered.
Then it shifted.
“What got you looking so down, sweetheart?” And then there was a voice in Buck’s ear, warm and low, sending involuntary shivers down Buck’s spine.
Was this guy talking to Buck?
He’s been in his fair share of badge & ladder bars and picked up quite a few women in them…but Buck has never been picked up himself, certainly not by another firefighter. And the other man was definitely a firefighter, Buck can tell that just from the faintest scent of smoke and something else—machine oil and maybe some jet fuel. It was flattering, really, though Buck’s never really considered men as part of his repertoire, though who hasn’t checked out a hot ass no matter what gender it was attached to once in a while. But tonight Buck really wasn’t in the mood.
He didn’t come to this bar to pull chicks. He just wanted to drink.
And Buck is fully ready to say that as he shifts to face the other man, only to find himself staring into the clearest pair of blue eyes. Suddenly, Buck wasn’t even sure if he’s breathing. Because the man that had just practically whispered into Buck’s ears was probably the handsomest man Buck has ever laid eyes on, and he works in a profession where there are a lot of eye candy.
Blue eyes a shade lighter than Buck’s own, a chiseled jaw, and a cleft chin. A cleft chin. Jesus. And he was big; not much taller than Buck but much, much wider with his broad shoulders and chest.
“Um…” Way to sound like a dumbass, Buckley. He wanted to slap himself. “Hi.”
“Hi.” The man chuckled, eyes crinkling in mirth. His voice vibrated through Buck’s whole body, deep and soothing.
“I—” Buck opens his mouth to say…something. He doesn’t know what he was going to say actually; he’s never considered a man before, but this man right here had Buck’s mouth going dry at the mere sight of him. So was he opening his mouth to reject the man—the very good looking man—or was…what was he going to do? But Buck isn’t given much time to dwell on his own thoughts because the man is speaking again and Buck can do nothing but let himself be pulled in.
“You looked so down I thought you could do with a pick-me-up.” Oh. Even his smirk was stunning.
He was flirting with Buck.
Because of course he was. Buck’s face wasn’t a familiar one at this bar (the whole reason for coming here after all) and even though he thought he looked like a firefighter, clearly this man thought Buck was some sort of bunker bunny. He should really tell the guy he’s not one, he should. But when Buck goes to open his mouth again, the man has shifted closer. Right in between Buck’s open legs that he swears was not facing in the direction of the man even seconds ago.
Buck gulps.
“Y—” Embarrassingly his voice cracks. Buck feels his face heat up in response. But the other man didn’t seem to care, still staring intently at Buck. He’s leaned in a little more, even. Buck tries again. “You think you can pick me up?”
It isn’t until the words have left Buck’s mouth that he realizes what they sound like. Flirty. Only Buck wasn’t really trying to flirt. Right? He was just curious as to why this guy was so interested in him of all people when he could have anyone he wanted with those looks. But then Buck is once more distracted from his own thoughts by the man between his legs—whose name he still doesn’t know yet.
He watches as the man’s blue gaze darkens and his eyes travel up and down Buck’s body, lingering a little longer on the open V of his button-up shirt, before coming back to meet Buck’s eyes again.
“Easily, baby.”
And then there’s a hand on his thigh, its warmth searing into him even with a thick denim barrier of his jeans. Buck feels like he’s suddenly been caught in a four-alarm fire, he’s burning up. The hand slowly drags up his thigh, closer, closer, closer to where Buck’s jeans were feeling tighter and tighter, strong fingers dancing along his inseam.
“I don’t even know your name!” Buck bursts out.
The man laughs, hot breath ghosting over Buck’s lips—and when did his face get so close?
“Tommy.”
“Evan—Buck. I’m Buck.” Buck flushes darker. God, he’s usually not this awkward.
“Well, Evan-Buck,” The man, Tommy, says, wrapping around Buck’s name in a way Buck can feel physically. “Wanna get outta here, sweetheart?”
He should say no. He’s always only been with women, and Tommy was decidedly not a woman. And he wasn’t really here to hook up. No, he should say no.
Buck says yes.