Work Text:
In retrospect, the day started too well.
Buck wakes to late morning sun draping over the bed. From what he can tell, his alarm won't go off for another half an hour at least, and the heat tempts him to sink back into the warm chest under his cheek - but he promised Tommy breakfast before their respective shifts today.
He has to peel his face away from Tommy's bare chest where sweat and a little bit of drool (embarrassing) have glued them together. It's a bit more work to untangle their legs, wound together in their sleep, without waking his boyfriend (!!!).
Even just sitting up for a stretch is a challenge, every muscle pleasantly sore, especially when Buck glances back at Tommy. He's still splayed out on his back across the sheets, the duvet slung low over his hips, snoring just a little on every exhale. His hair is mussed and curly against the pillow, his face smooth and relaxed. He's so beautiful and handsome and incredible, the sunshine playing over his skin and lighting him up warm and golden, and the feeling that fills Buck's chest threatens to overflow and spill out over the entire loft.
Buck drags himself out of bed instead of curling up and tucking himself back into Tommy's shoulder. He desperately needs to piss, needs to make breakfast, needs to shower, get his work clothes out of the dryer, a thousand little things before he goes on shift in a few hours - so he (reluctantly) grabs his phone off his side table and slowly makes his way downstairs.
It's only when he's prepping the bread for french toast that he finally hears rustling sheets and a long, languid groan from upstairs. It brings a smile to his face, and the unbidden thought that he could get used to this - waking up, slow and warm, curled up with Tommy, making each other breakfast, getting ready for work side by side. They've been together for a few months now, and as often as their shifts allow, they spend their nights at either the loft or Tommy's house, just existing in each other's spaces, but it's not a chance they get often enough.
A pair of arms wrap around his waist, lips pressing against his neck and a nose nudging in behind his ear.
"G'mornin', baby." Tommy's voice rumbles straight through his chest, all velvety grumbly sleepy wonderful. Buck tips his head back to press a kiss against his temple.
"Mornin', Tommy." The smile so obviously shines through his voice, and he feels Tommy's lips curve against his skin. "Sleep well?"
"Like a rock. Smells so good." Tommy nuzzles a little closer, pressing their bodies together chest to knee. Buck leans back, letting Tommy take some of his weight.
"Bobby taught me when he was first teaching me to cook - you add vanilla and a pinch of salt and a little nutmeg to the eggs before you dip the bread and it's amazing."
"Mm, yeah, that too." Tommy shifts, his nose pressing into Buck's curls, and he inhales with a content noise. Buck, for his part, flushes with a chuckle and reaches his free, clean hand back to brush through Tommy's hair.
"Haven't even showered yet. 'M all sweaty."
Tommy mumbles something into his hair and pushes even closer, pressing Buck's hips into the edge of the counter and forcing him to stabilize with a hand out next to the cutting board. Buck huffs out a breathless laugh that quickly turns into a low, throaty moan as Tommy grinds forward.
"C'mon, I'm making breakfast. Aren't you- hah- aren't you hungry?" The last word tilts high and whiny, courtesy of Tommy's teeth grazing at the corner of his jaw.
"Starving, baby."
In the end, they're both out the door a few minutes late. Between the delay to breakfast, getting overly handsy in the shower, a near miss after almost resulting in the need for a second shower, Buck's 'leave the apartment if you don't wanna be late' alarm had been snoozed twice, and the quick peck they'd shared before splitting for their respective trucks hadn't been nearly enough. And of course, traffic in LA being what it is, Buck rolls up to the station just as his shift is supposed to start, throwing the jeep in park and hustling in to get to the locker room. He calls up to where the team is clustered around the table in the loft.
"Bobby, I'm here, sorry, sorry!" There's a chorus of laughs, Bobby calling for everyone to settle down, before he gets a response, just as he's yanking open the glass door to throw his duffle on the bench.
"It's alright, Buck, just get changed."
He smiles to himself, just a bit, before he speeds through changing into his uniform. It's probably some kind of PR, honestly, because Buck's jogging up the steps to the loft within four minutes, whipping around the corner with a hand around the bannister and a bounce in his step.
"I'm here! I'm here!" His spot at the table, right next to Eddie, is free as usual, so he throws himself into it and huffs out a breath to try and slow his heart a little. The grin he beams out across at his team is clearly a little brighter than usual, because Chim squints and mock-shields his eyes, Hen busts out laughing, Eddie grins right back, and Bobby just shakes his head fondly, pouring Buck coffee into the mug that was ready and waiting for him.
"Damn, the morning was that good, huh?" Hen wiggles her eyebrows at him, sipping at her own cup with a pointed look. Buck flushes wildly, focusing in a little too hard on spooning sugar into his cup. She cackles, slumping back in her chair, and throws an open palm out towards Chim, who groans loudly and digs for his wallet.
"C'mon, man, you couldn't have just been picking up breakfast? Or stuck in traffic?"
"Oh, Tommy and I had breakfast at home." It's almost absent-minded as the words slip out, but Buck flushes even worse - he can feel the heat spreading up the back of his neck. Chim slaps a ten into Hen's hand, then claps his palms over his ears.
"Ugh, man, you're my brother-in-law! And Tommy's my friend! I don't wanna hear about what you two are getting up to!" Hen shoots him a flat look, then an elbow to his ribs.
"What he means is-"
"We're happy for you, kid, just make sure it doesn't affect your work." Bobby cuts her off smoothly. He leans forward on his elbows, giving Buck a proud smile that floods his stomach with a warm, settled feeling.
"Of course, cap." Bobby nods, still smiling, and turns back to the team.
Strangely, it's almost two hours before they actually get their first call. Eddie keeps Buck company, trading time spotting each other and jogging on the treadmill together, and needles him for details on how things are with Tommy. He's obviously trying to keep his mind off his own issues with Marisol, his smile not always reaching his eyes, but Buck is happy to distract (for now) if it means he gets to talk about how sweet Tommy's been to him.
After that first call, though - it's like a dam bursts (not literally like that one time, but still) and everything goes a little batshit. They barely have time to make it back to the station before they're called out again. Bobby settles for taking them offline for an hour and parking the truck at a fast food joint just so they can get some calories in, and almost as soon as they're online again, it's straight back to it. Buck barely has time to think, let alone look at his phone, but he slips it out whenever he has a free moment to check in with Tommy - they both suffer as worriers, so just checking their text thread to find a dumb selfie or a little story about a call is always relieving.
im being bullied at work 😭
hen n chim are threatening to make a jar i have to put money in every time i mention my boyfriend at work
The next time he checks his phone, things have finally slowed down and they're (hopefully) on their way straight back to the station, and he has a response from about 20 minutes after he'd messaged.
careful, your boyfriend might get a big head about how much you talk about him
and if i told my boyfriend that id probs lose my entire paycheck to the jar within a 48?
The response is almost immediate this time, so Tommy's probably between calls.
then I would say your boyfriend is a really lucky guy :)
hmm idk pretty sure im the lucky one here ;)
agree to disagree
we're headed out for an MVA, be safe baby
will do, you too ❤️
By the time he's finished typing, they're backing the engine into the bay. Everyone practically collapses out of their seats to the bay floor, dragging feet off to strip out of their turnouts and stumble away to the showers and the bunks.
Buck stays leaned against the engine for a moment, just smiling down at their text thread, until Eddie thumps at his shoulder tiredly.
"C'mon, man, move it, you can go be all gooey and heart-eyed later."
Buck pouts, full-faced and unashamed. "I'm not gooey!"
"Uh-huh, sure, man." Eddie fixes him with a flat look, but the quirk of his mouth gives him away. "Whatever you are, go shower. It's like a middle school locker room on fire in here."
He's not wrong. The heat of the evening had barely faded as the sun went down, and even now, at somewhere approaching 4am, it still feels like the air itself is trying to cook them, and the resulting sweat, combined with the soot and smoke stench off their last house fire call, almost leaves cartoony stink trails off each of them.
"Gah, fine. Tommy's headed out for a call anyway." He slips his phone into his pocket and starts following Eddie away.
"That's one for the jar, Buckley!" Chim calls from the open cubbies along the wall, hanging up his turnout jacket and pushing his suspenders off his shoulders.
"Hey, c'mon! I literally just said his name!"
"Still counts, Buckaroo - it could be for a good cause!"
Hen and Chim may have spawned the jar idea, but they'd all been stumped as to what might be done with the money once it had been rightfully pilfered from Buck's wallet. They'd thrown around ideas - funds for the next family barbeque, donations for the upcoming children's hospital fundraiser, etc, but no definite conclusion had been reached. Hen suggested he use the money to get Tommy something nice, or maybe fund a date night, but Chim had jokingly pointed out that it was supposed to be a punishment, not a savings jar.
In the end, it didn't really matter where the money went. Buck knows it's just another way that his family shows their love, and their pride with him in finding happiness.
Half an hour later, everyone settles easily into a comfortable silence in the loft. Buck and Eddie collapse into a warm heap on one of the couches, Buck's head pillowed on Eddie's lap as they both doomscroll, Hen and Chim sit playing gin at the table, and Bobby bustles around the kitchen, cleaning up their mess from hours before and prepping some breakfast food in advance in case they get called out again.
It's hard not to drop off the second Buck's cheek meets the warm fabric of Eddie's work slacks, honestly. It took a long time for Eddie to warm up to any kind of friendly touch, especially outside of the scope of typical bro-style manly fistbumps and shoulder slaps, but once the dam broke there, Buck and Eddie took off sprinting. He knows they're closer than anyone initially expected them to get, and he knows that what they've got kinda surpasses the term 'best friends,' but Buck doesn't really ever question it. They're BuckandEddie, they don't need an explanation. Hell, they're practically raising Chris together, spending weekends together and splitting his time between the Diazes and Tommy, and combining their little family unit in all configurations, because it just works.
It was actually something he'd been worried about, when he and Tommy first started dating. So many of his past relationships hadn't understood why he couldn't make them first in his life, not only above the job, but above Eddie and Chris, too. Buck had brought it up hesitantly, because he had to know, because that's his family, and Tommy had responded better than he ever could've dreamed.
"You think I don't know that, Evan? Sweetheart, I know how important Eddie and Chris are to you. If that was a problem, I would've said something a hell of a lot sooner."
"Oh my god, thank you. None of my past girlfriends ever even made an attempt at understanding me and Eds. I'm so glad you get it, and you even like Eddie! I love that you guys have a friendship outside of just me, y'know?"
"Of course. I can't lie, though, I definitely thought you two were a thing before we got together."
"Oh, god, no, he's like my brother. Like, yeah, we've got the weird codepency thing, I don't think I could live without him, but it's not like that, at all."
"Evan, have you ever heard of the term queer-platonic relationship?"
That had led to a whole other conversation, one that he definitely needed to research and then probably info-dump and discuss with Eddie about, but Buck and Tommy were both happier and more secure for it.
In any case, casual touch between them was a given, an expected standard that they still received teasing from the team about.
Buck shifts a little, adjusting his shoulder so it's not digging into the couch, and rests his phone against Eddie's knee so he can see his screen without tiring out his arm.
"Quit squirming, man." One of Eddie's hands drops to his head, carding through his curls. Buck turns his face further into Eddie's leg, muttering something unintelligible. "Yeah, yeah, just stay still."
Chim slumps down into the loveseat across from them, leaning his head into a hand and staring over at them with a pout. One would think he'd know better than to think he could beat Hen by now.
"You two are something else, y'know that?" Eddie's hand shifts, curling until he's idly scritching at Buck's scalp and Buck is tilting his head back into it, practically purring.
"Y'r just jealous, man," Buck mumbles, eyes slowly sliding closed. Chim just shakes his head and says something else he doesn't catch, though he feels Eddie's leg shake a bit beneath him when he laughs and responds.
It could be an hour later or a few minutes, but Buck wakes with a little start when his phone, still clutched in the hand laying over Eddie's knee, buzzes twice. Eddie's hand rests on his head, but it's not moving anymore, and when Buck cranes his neck to glance at him, his head is thrown uncomfortably over the back of the couch, snoring quietly.
When he drags his phone up to his face, wincing at the brightness of the screen, it's been another half an hour, and Buck has a few notifications. He checks the 118 group chat first, where a photo of him and Eddie sleeping has dropped from Chim, followed by several heart reacts and expressions of cuteness aggression from Maddie and Karen and Tommy.
And Tommy! Just the fact that he has messages from Tommy gives him butterflies, a stupid, silly grin making itself a permanent home on his face.
just got back from the MVA call i mentioned. touch and go, but both patients stable
hope things are good over there ❤️
He presses his phone to his chest and turns his face into Eddie's leg, barely resisting the urge to kick his legs against the couch cushions.
so glad to hear it ❤️ things are ok here, nothing for about an hr but im sure im jinxing it
And like the world's greatest coincidence (or a curse, fuck you very much Eddie), the klaxons sound the second he presses send.
Eddie jolts awake under him, almost throwing Buck to the ground when he goes to stand up immediately. He's only saved by slapping a hand on the coffee table, Eddie slumping back down as soon he realizes the weight on his lap.
"Fuck, sorry, man-" Buck levers himself up with a groan at the twinge in his back.
"All good, we gotta-"
"Alright, guys, full turnouts- structural fire at the Amazon warehouse on San Fernando." Bobby comes wheeling around the corner, headed straight down the stairs to the engines. "Up and at 'em, boys - let's go!"
Eddie steadies himself on Buck's shoulder and pulls himself upright, immediately moving to follow Bobby. Cursing his stupid luck, Buck shoots off a quick text to Tommy, then shoves his phone in his pocket and hurries downstairs. When they're swinging up into the truck, his phone buzzes again.
ope there it is. be safe out there
still working on the adrenaline crash, just barely getting my heartrate down
always. you too, sweetheart
When the engine cranks around the right turn into the parking lot, there's a huge plume of smoke coming off the charlie side of the warehouse. Already, a huge crowd of workers in hi-vis crowds off to the side, a safe distance away, and as they're pulling to a stop, Bobby jumping out of the captain's seat, a man in a red vest jogs towards them, pawing at a radio strapped to his shoulder.
"You the supervisor around here?"
"Yeah, I'm the ops manager of our UTR team - we've got 234 employees accounted for, still 55 possibly in the building - no injuries just yet." The guy squares his shoulders, one arm tucked behind his back, and points towards the building. "The fire, or fires, I should say, look to be started in the northwest corner of the station, one in a trailer at the loading docks, one or two in the bathrooms, then one in some of the pallets of totes. We weren't pulling carts yet, just picking, so no one noticed until the fire alarms went off."
"Alright, Matson, Romero, Clarke, Daniels, pull up around the back and set lines to approach from charlie side-"
"The loading docks in the back are full, but you can pull into the queue lanes and set up at the corner back there." Bobby shoots the guy a look for the interruption, but plows on regardless.
"Sam, Ravi, get the lines set and we'll go in through these bay doors here. Buck, Eddie, get the extinguishers and head in to look for stragglers, we'll be in with you as soon as we're ready here."
A round of nods, and the crew scatters to their assigned tasks. Eddie holds a fist out, and without a thought, Buck taps their wrists, heading off to retrieve their equipment. Before long, they're approaching the rollup doors - only one of them is open, the rest all shuttered and locked, and the smoke floods out, thick and choking.
"LAFD, anyone here?" A woman appears out of the fog, coughing and cradling one arm to her chest - she stumbles forward, and Buck is right there, catching her free elbow and slinging his other arm around her waist. "Ma'am, this way - is your arm okay?"
"I- I think I broke my wrist-" she coughs, long and loud, and Buck leads her easily out into the clear air. "Somebody pushed me, I fell on one of the racks-"
"It's alright, just this way- you're gonna be fine, the paramedics are right out here." He gently half-drags her out into the parking lot, and the second Hen catches his eye, she's jogging to meet them.
"Smoke inhalation, and a possible broken wrist, Hen." She nods gratefully at him, then takes the woman's weight off him, leading her off towards the crowd and the bus.
"C'mere, ma'am, I've got you. Just this way." Off in the distance, behind the ambulance, there's a flash of glaring light, the morning sun catching off a moving vehicle, and Buck's face twists when he catches the familiar News Channel 8 logo along the side. He brushes it off with a quick huff, then jogs back towards the building, where Eddie is waiting for him at the door.
The next half hour blurs into a whirlwind of smoke. Once the hoses are dragged in, the fire is contained quickly enough that they're not dealing with many burns, mostly just scrapes, bruises, and smoke inhalation. Every time Buck reemerges into fresh air, he catches glimpses of bright red hair that he immediately redirects from, focusing in on their patients and his team.
"Alright, folks, that's all employees accounted for. Buck, Eddie, head out and regroup, we could use you two on hose duty out here." Bobby's voice crackles through the radio. They're deep enough into the warehouse that it's gonna take a minute to find their way out. The fire hasn't spread far - any flammable materials were crowded to the corners of the building, against the walls, and while the smoke is most definitely thick and toxic, the path is relatively clear.
"Copy, Cap, Diaz and Buckley headed your way."
Eddie steps ahead of him, picking carefully through the rows and rows of carts. They're maybe 25 feet from the rollup doors when he hears it. A soft, almost imperceptible wheeze, and then, louder, a muffled cough, echoing off the metal and concrete around them.
"Wait, wait- Eddie, hold up, I think I heard someone-" Buck slaps at Eddie's shoulder, almost yelling through his respirator. "LAFD, call out!"
There's a shuffle, then a loud clang, like metal on metal.
"Keep doing that, where are you?!" Sweat trickles down the back of Buck's neck, slipping past the collar of his turnout jacket. He steps off to the side, listening carefully, until the clang comes again, off to his right. "One more time, we're coming!"
Buck stumbles through the smoke, shoving a rack out of the way, before his foot collides with something softer. "Hey, hey, I got you, let's go - can you stand up?"
The man, laying supine between two metal shelving units, seems dazed, half-conscious, which tracks, if he's been in the building the whole time. His breathing is labored, wheezy, so Buck whips his respirator off, pressing it down against the guy's face. Buck scrambles for his radio with his free hand.
"I've got one more for evac - definite smoke inhalation, looks like he's been here the whole time."
"Buck, I lost you in the smoke, where are you?" Eddie's voice isn't quite frantic, but there's an undercurrent of tension, a worried bite to his tone.
"We're good, he seems uninjured - head out, Eds, we'll be out in a second." Buck releases the key for his radio and coughs into his elbow, then lifts the respirator back to his own face, taking a deep breath, before he straps it on the guy's face properly.
"You better be right behind me, man." Buck doesn't bother responding, even with the extra warmth curling in his stomach at Eddie's worry.
"Alright, man, up and at 'em, we gotta get you outta here." He wraps his arms around the guy's stomach, lifting him up to rest against the shelf closest to them, then pulls an arm over his shoulder to support as much of his weight as he can. The smoke stings at his eyes, bringing tears, but it's nothing to retrace his steps back to the main path and pull the man towards the exit.
Less than a minute later, they're through the rollup door, smoke replaced with clean, clear air, and the guy pulls the respirator off his face and gasps, coughing and retching as Buck leads him towards the crowd and Hen and Chim's waiting hands, already running forward to meet them. He can feel the eyes, 300 plus people all watching the two of them as Buck drags his helmet off with his free hand, the breeze cooling the sweat drenching his hair.
"C'mon, man, almost there-"
The next thing he remembers, Buck is on the ground. His head throbs, the morning sun terrible and blinding, and his face feels wetter, something hotter than sweat smearing over his cheek and chin. He squints, rolling a little, and two faces appear above him, blessedly blocking the endless, blue expanse searing his retinas.
"Jesus, you alright, kid?" Bobby's voice grates something awful against his ears, and he has to fight down the urge to roll over entirely and empty his stomach.
"Wh- wha' happened?" He tries to sit up, his vision swimming as the throbbing intensifies, sharpening at the back of his head and the front of his face.
"Hold on, Buckaroo, take it slow. That was a pretty hard hit, looks like he broke your nose." Hen's voice is definitely softer in volume, but it's all patient-mode, assessing and cataloging injuries- why would she need to triage him?
"The guy you were pulling out elbowed you in the face, kiddo." Buck blinks hard, some of the blinding glare fading just a little, and slowly rolls to his front, bracing on his hands and knees. It still inspires a wave of dizziness, even as hands appear at his elbows, on his back.
"Nice and easy, Buck, that's it." Hen and Bobby lever him to his feet, supporting him as he sways with the nausea. Their hands are strong and solid and grounding on his arms - closing his eyes for a second helps, feeling slightly less like he's on a boat in stormy waters, and he lets them lead him away, towards the 118's bus.
"Captain! Captain, who was that? Is Firefighter Buckley alright?" The new voice is absolute hell on his head, ears ringing and eyes squeezing tighter shut.
"Ms. Kelly, not now - go bother the sergeants, please. You'll get more info out of them, anyway." One of the hands on his back leaves, and another takes over, pushing gently until he's leaning against what feels like a gurney, then tapping at his elbow and his hip until he takes the hint and cracks one eye open to climb up and have a sit.
"Captain-" With an eye open, Buck turns a little, until he can see the wall of Bobby's back, arms out and herding the camera away, and it brings back that spark of warmth, a little grin quirking at the corner of his mouth. Now that he's sitting, the nausea is fading, head clearing a little, but it only leaves more room for that sharp ache at his crown, spreading through to his temples.
"No, Ms. Kelly." Apparently, that's enough to warn her off, because Bobby reels back around, focusing back in on Buck. "How are you feeling, kid?"
"'M good. Head hurts a lot." His voice feels insufferably nasal, but at least he's not slurring. Hen prods gently at his nose, wincing when she gets too close and he hisses. She fishes a pack of gauze out of her bag, pressing it into his hand and then guiding it up to sit below his nose and soak up the blood still dripping.
"Yeah, makes sense. You know the drill - you know what day it is?"
"Monday, July 15th, orange guy's the president, we're at a call for a fire at a warehouse. I'm a little dizzy, was kinda nauseous for a second there, but it's getting better now." Bobby chuckles, and Buck cracks a little grin.
"Gotta stop doing this to me, kid."
"Eyes open, Buckaroo, sorry in advance-" He cracks his other eye open and forces himself to focus on Hen, who immediately betrays him with a flashlight directly to the retina- "Hm. Uneven response, nothing major - low grade, but it's definitely a concussion."
"Man, what'd you do to that guy, Buck?" Chim appears like a specter from around Bobby's arm.
"C'mon, man, I'm injured! You can't make fun of me right now - tell him, cap!" A genuine pout crosses Buck's face and he waves his bloody gauze at Chim, who doesn't even flinch, just grinning and snapping his gum. Bobby, on the other hand, laughs and grabs his hand, gently leading it back up to his face.
"Let him get over the concussion before you tease him, Chim. We've gotta finish up here, but Glendale Memorial is close - get him checked out and we'll meet you back at the station."
"Good news! No cut back here, so no stitches! Good for you, Buckaroo!" Hen's all cheer, grinning at him, even as she taps at his legs to get him on the gurney properly, securing the belt around his waist. "Let's get you loaded up."
"Do I have to lay down? C'mon, it's not that bad." He doesn't really mean for it to come out so whiny, but the broken nose makes
"You know how this works, man, you can sit up once we get the wheels locked." Hen comes around, gets hands on the rail by Buck's feet, Chim hops up into the back, and together, they wheel him in, even as Eddie comes jogging up through the crowd.
"Hey, man, you okay?" He's out of breath, sweatier than usual, and he wrenches his helmet off his head, swiping at the moisture plastering his hair to his forehead. Buck summons up the best grin he's got for his best friend, wincing just a little when it pulls at the muscles around his nose.
"I'm good, Eds, they just gotta get my head and my nose checked out." Eddie lets out a little relieved sigh, smiling up at him, though he startles hard when Bobby claps a hand on his shoulder.
"No, Diaz." Eddie reels around to stare unhappily up at the captain, mouth open to protest. "We need you here to help with cleanup - Hen and Chim are with him, he'll be fine."
Eddie's glare is practically a physical presence, flipping back and forth between Bobby and Chim and Hen, before he huffs out another sigh, a little angry this time, and crosses his arms. He looks back up at Buck, his face softening.
"Do you wanna text Tommy or should I?" His eyebrow quirks, the smile returning full force with a hint of mischief.
"Oh, god, Tommy." Buck buries his head in his free hand, then hisses, wincing as he jostles his head just a little too much. "I- fuck- god, I'll call him in a bit."
"If you say so." Eddie directs a significant look to Hen and Chim, who both nod judiciously, Chim throwing up a lazy salute.
"Alright, break it up, we gotta go." Bobby and Eddie step back, Hen closes the doors, and Buck lays back, closing his eyes with a sigh. The engine starts up with a rumble, and with two thumps to the back doors, they pull away.
"God, how am I gonna tell Tommy? This is so embarassing." Buck tilts his head back with a groan, eyes squeezing shut. There's a rustle of plastic, and a hand on his wrist, and Chim's pulling the soaked gauze away from his face, replacing it with a fresh piece with a chuckle.
"Hey, y'never know, you were on live tv. Maybe he-" He pauses oddly, patting at his pocket. A buzzing noise, accompanied by a quiet, chiming ringtone fills the cramped, hot air, and when Chim finally fishes out his phone, he actually laughs, half-doubling over on the bench. "That man had to have been sneezing up a storm, I swear."
"Wait wait Chim-"
"You got some kinda sixth sense, Kinard?" Buck swats half-heartedly at Chim's shoulder, sitting up further on the gurney. Tommy's voice comes over the speaker tinny and crackly, all snappy and biting.
"Yeah, Han, it's called a TV with a news channel. Is he okay?" Chim laughs again, slumping a little against the side of the bus.
"He's alright, if a little bruised, face- and ego-wise. Minor concussion, and the nose is definitely busted, so we're taking him to Glendale Memorial to get him checked out, then one of us'll drive him home from the station." He snaps his gum congenially, directing a little smirk at Buck.
"Tommy, I'm fine-"
"Baby, please, I just watched you get elbowed in the face on live television. Forgive me if I'm a worrier." Even through the speaker, Buck can hear the warm relief, his tone far sweeter than anything Chim would've earned.
"Just let the man fuss, Buck," Hen calls from the front, half turning to talk through the grate separating the cab and the back. He didn't even know she could hear them - it brings another pout to his face, and he sticks his tongue out when Chim snickers at him.
"Yeah, you can't say you wouldn't be the same way, Buckaroo."
"I can meet you guys at the station when you're done at the hospital and I'll take him home." Buck's head perks up and he stares down at the phone, leaning in.
"But, Tommy, you've still got an hour on shift-" He presses a little too hard on his nose in his worry and whines, just a little, the hand on his face ripping away to brace against the railing. Chim winces sympathetically, grabbing for another pack out of the cabinet.
"C'mon, man, keep the gauze on there, you're gonna get blood all over my gurney." He grabs at Buck's free hand, putting the pad in it and gently guiding it up to sit beneath his nose.
"Rowe was watching the news with us and saw what happened, he's letting me go early. I'd be worried about you the whole time anyway, drive everybody crazy until shift end. I'm already getting dressed. I'm coming to pick you up, Evan." Tommy's voice is firm and warm, all certain and confident and everything that replaces the last of the nausea with flitting butterflies, and he ekes out a little noise, his hand twisting in the plastic sheet he's laying on. Of course, the second it leaves his throat, Chim and Hen chime in with a whole ruckus of embarassing cooing that has him flushing all the way to his ears.
"So that's settled! We shouldn't be long at Glendale, we'll meet you back at the station." Chim grins directly at Buck, all teeth and popping gum.
"It'll take me at least an hour to get out there with traffic, just let me know when you're leaving. Baby, do you want me to pick up some breakfast?" Buck wants to scream, just a bit - bury his head in a pillow and shriek like a teenager with his first crush, kick his feet and roll around on his bed until it's out of his system, but obviously now is not the time for any of that, because Chim is just looking at him with that quirked eyebrow, a warm, knowing smile on his face.
"…that Mexican place we went to a few weeks ago?"
"Alfredo's? Sure, sweetheart. Same thing as last time?" Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. The plastic-wrapped pillow under his shoulders is looking better and better by the second.
"Yes please… thank you, Tommy." The closest he can get right now is a little foot shuffle, his boots rustling against the sheet, and he bites his lip so he doesn't do something stupid like propose to Tommy on the spot. Chim's eyes roll - he leans over a little and fake-retches, holding his stomach like he's actually gonna be sick.
"Alright, alright, we'll be there in a few minutes. Faster we let Tommy finish up, faster you'll see him at back at the house."
"I'll see you guys soon. Love you, Evan." The smile on his face widens without his permission, the flush spreading down his neck.
"Love you, Tommy. Drive safe."
"Love you Tommy, byeee!" Hen and Chim chorus together, holding the word until Chim hangs up and they bust out laughing together.
"You two are disgustingly cute, man. You're making the rest of us look bad!"
Buck's eyes roll, swatting at Chim's shoulder. "Maybe you just need to step up your game, Han."
"Excuse you, Chim, Karen and I are adorable. Buck's right, step it up." Chim gasps dramatically, grabbing at his chest like he's got pearls to clutch.
"You're supposed to be on my side, Henrietta! You're my best friend here!" Hen cuts a mean glare back at him through the grate - even more effective for the single second she makes eye contact.
"Well, you're rapidly demoting yourself, Howard." The half-playful ire in her voice startles a laugh out of Buck, even as he winces when his head makes contact with the raised railing behind his head. Chim grimaces at him, reaching out to tug the pillow higher so he can tilt his head back without incident.
"Jesus, kid, don't brain yourself again before we even get to the hospital."
"Too late, boys, we're already there!"
Two hours later, the lock to Buck's loft clicks open, Tommy's keys rattling quietly as he pushes at the door. The midmorning sun beams and flashes off the marble flooring, and Buck curls closer into his chest, tucking his face into the crook of his neck as he winces against the glare.
"We gotta get you some curtains, maybe some of that tinted vinyl for all these windows," Tommy mutters into Buck's hair, barely audible even in the quiet stillness. With Buck still in his arms, he slowly walks them in, gently kicking the door shut behind.
"I'm gonna get you some water, then we can nap. Sound good?" Tommy's voice rumbles through his chest where they're pressed together, low and a little raspy from a long day. Buck just nods, rubbing his cheek against Tommy's shirt and smiling when he chuckles.
"Alright, kid. Think you can get upstairs without an incident?"
Buck pulls back a little to fix a deadpan look at Tommy, one eyebrow up, but he cracks a little, his lip tilting up at the corner, when his boyfriend laughs again.
"Okay, okay, go on then." Buck lets the smile infect his whole face, leaning up to kiss the grin straight off his mouth.
"Thank you for picking me up." Tommy's face softens. He lifts one hand off Buck's hip to brush his hair off his forehead, then plants a kiss where his fingers grazed his skin.
"Of course, sweetheart."