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"Why am I going to this conference?" Buck complains.
"Because," Chim says, "you like to learn things, and because I'm ordering you to, so get your ass packed tonight, and I'll have Eddie drive you to the airport in the morning."
Any other time he probably would've been excited, but lately he's been feeling stuck and frustrated for reasons both obvious and completely vague.
"Also, I booked you three extra days off. Take a break. Go to the botanical gardens. Before you explode."
"Is this some kind of punishment?"
"No, it's total nepotism, I'm giving my brother a vacation."
"You are?" Buck asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
"Also, your chief is telling you I can see you need a damn break, you're wound way too tight. Seriously, the aviary is supposed to be very cool. Go see some birds."
Buck raises his hands. "Okay."
"Budget constraints, you're rooming with another person during the conference, but it's another LA firefighter, so you guys should get along. I hope."
"As long as it's not Gerrard."
"That would let me dip into the emergency fund, I'm pretty sure. Here's your itinerary. Eddie will pick you up at 6:30. Get moving."
Buck helps about seven people jam their carryons into the overhead bin. Perks of being a tall buff guy who—apparently—gives off the vibes of a friendly, anxious puppy. According to the young woman with the shockingly heavy suitcase, anyway. She blushes immediately after saying it. There's another guy a few rows down doing the same thing, though his back is to Buck. He settles in and hopes for a smooth flight.
He used to date a pilot. He still hates turbulence.
He misses his pilot. He's had so many nights staring at the phone and chickening out.
Tommy runs, is the thing. And calling your ex a year down the road to tell him you're still hopelessly stuck on him seems likely to make him more skittish, not less. He said he was afraid of taking the next step because Buck was interested in someone else—which he isn't—but, knowing that Buck needs a minute to process things like that, he ran before they could figure it out.
He came when Buck called, but after the funeral, things were weird. Buck didn't want to call him just to dump on him. He was in a terrible headspace and would not have presented himself well at all.
And now…well, it seems pretty unlikely that Tommy wouldn't have moved on. Maybe they can be friends someday. Not now. Not when Buck is so hung up he gets flutters hearing him on the radio when they need air support. Not when every date ends with Buck wishing they were someone else.
It's going to hurt for a while. Nothing to do now but wait, really. Had his chance. Muffed it.
The takeoff angle is unusually sharp, and Buck grabs the edge of his armrest, breathing through his nose.
"You okay?" the older man next to him asks.
"Yeah. Yep. Great."
"Not a huge fan of planes?"
"It's fine. Just…"
"Yeah, this is pretty steep." The guy seems delighted. "Sorry, I love flying. I used to fly ultralight crafts, which are much more dangerous."
"I uh, I used to, uh, my ex was a pilot. Is a pilot."
"Oh yeah? What does she fly?"
"Mostly search and rescue choppers, sometimes airtankers."
"Helos and planes? Wow, what a catch."
"Tell me about it," Buck sighs. "He took me up in a little Cessna once. I didn't like it at first, but he kept it smooth. It was a beautiful view."
The man looks at him with an eyebrow cocked.
"What."
"All sorts now, I suppose," the man says.
"All sorts always, really."
"True, but in my day they didn't go sharing with strangers."
Buck doesn't really want to escalate whatever this is, so he shrugs. "It's a post-Glee world. Or so I've been told."
"Well. Were you sufficiently distracted from the takeoff?"
"Yeah. Thanks." They're still ascending, but the grade is leveling off a bit. "So, what are you going to St. Louis for?"
The guy ends up being a pleasant enough conversation partner. He has a history of thrillseeking and plenty of stories. The descent is foggy and there's a terrible bang as they near the ground that has passengers gasping and asking if they hit a goose, but touchdown has no complications, and Buck is glad to be back on the ground.
It's funny. A passenger plane is almost certainly safer than any chopper or puddle jumper, but flying with Tommy always felt more secure. Even the first time, into a hurricane with a stranger at the controls. He was just good. Confident, competent, solid.
Buck gets the backseat in the hotel shuttle and presses his forehead to the seat back in front of him to try and shut out the noise for a few minutes before the bus starts moving.
He considers grabbing lunch first, but his body's on Pacific time and it's only heading toward one o'clock there. It'll be check in time when they reach the hotel.
It all goes smoothly until he opens the hotel room door to find a single king-size bed. He sighs and trudges back to the desk. "Hey, I'm supposed to have a double room."
She looks it up. "I see two guests and one bed."
"Yeah. It's supposed to be two beds."
"Oh. Well, um, I'm sorry, but we're completely booked. We can't move you. I could bring a rollaway."
"Okay, uh, well, I'm six foot two, how big are they?"
"Not quite that big. Is your roommate smaller?"
"I have no idea, my chief assigned me the room."
"Maybe you can work this out when the other guest checks in."
"Right. Okay. Um, thanks." He is not sleeping on the couch. The pressure change is irritating his leg already. While he has the space to himself, he hops into the shower to rinse off the flight. As he dries off and fixes his hair, the room door clicks open. Shit, his clothes are still in his suitcase. He wraps the towel around his waist and peers through the cracked door. "Sorry, I need to grab…my…. Hi." Oh no.
"Evan. I thought—Hey."
"I asked at the desk, they don't have any double rooms left."
"Huh." Tommy sets his luggage on the far side of the bed. "I don't think I can sleep on the couch."
"I can't either, the pressure shift is twinging my leg."
"Well…it's a big bed."
Buck wants to kill him. He's doing that infuriating little flirty face.
Buck also wants to forget his leg hurts and drop to his knees right now. This man drives him fully insane.
Instead he says, "I guess we're stuck here."
"Is that a problem?"
Buck has no idea how to answer that, but luckily Tommy adds, "Like, are you seeing someone?"
"Uh, no. Nope, pretty single."
"Great. I don't want to make any enemies."
"Okay?"
"I mean, no partner wants to hear you shared a bed with your ex."
"Yeah. Um, I'm gonna, I need my clothes."
"Oh, right. Do you want me to bring you…"
"Just stop staring at me, maybe?"
"Right. Actually, I gotta…" Tommy points to the bathroom. "Swap?"
"Okay." They switch rooms, and Buck pulls on underwear and pants. God, this is painfully awkward. They've been broken up for a year. Still very tempting to spread himself on the bed naked and see what that gets him. He wouldn't turn down a blowjob, but what he really wants is to get inside those warm arms and be cradled against that hulking chest.
Tommy is the only lover he's ever had that was bigger than him. He's kind of jealous of the rest of his exes now. It's nice to be held like that. It's not bad to be the big spoon, but getting to switch it up regularly—switch everything up regularly—is nice.
He gets a shirt on as Tommy calls, "You decent?"
"Yeah."
Tommy comes back into the room and says, "I was going to find something to eat, you want to join me?"
Why is everything so fraught with him? I want you to hold me. I want you to go away. I want to spend time with you and not ache. "Yeah, sure," he says instead of any of that.
They pick up some food at a counter service place and sit down to eat it.
"How's things at the 118?" Tommy asks, digging into some kind of Moroccan-inspired stew.
"Yeah, uh, hanging in there, really. Hen's been sick, she's doing really well, but it's just…she got a space disease, basically."
"What?"
"UV radiation, when she was in the spaceship where the door came off."
"Oh my god, when the satellites were all crashing on us?"
"Yeah." Buck explains Hen's illness and recovery, such as it could be with the word "degenerative" hanging over her head forever.
"That's awful. I'll have to drop by and see her."
"Yeah. I'm sorry, I thought someone would have mentioned it to you."
"I don't really talk to your crew much these days. I mean, I would, but…how's everything else there?"
"Yeah, uh, Chim's the new chief. He's trying. Hiccuping. Harry's a probie now. Bobby is just haunting the place. Not like a real ghost, just like, things are weird. And me and Eddie…weird. Chris is back. I have my own place, which is better. I don't…I don't know. We had a fight a while back, I guess, Eddie, I mean, not Chris, and uh, it's fine now, but it's not what it was. I don't know if we'll ever be as close as we used to be. I guess that's how things go when you lose someone you love. Sometimes you…" He's talking too much. He tries not to think of the boy who died in the hospital and shattered his family into pieces. Too late. "...don't handle it well," he finishes. "Anyway, how's Harbor?"
"Same old, really. I—yeah. Same old."
"Any exciting calls lately?"
"Well, I got grounded after the thing with the feds."
"Wait, what?" Buck's stomach drops.
"Just for a couple months. Just so they could say they were doing something."
"I'm sorry, I—"
"I knew what I was doing. Chimney's alive. That's more important."
"Yeah, but—"
"Seriously, Evan, don't worry about it. I got two months out of the cockpit and my captain gave me a completely fake dressing down. I expected way worse from committing domestic terrorism."
"I didn't mean to disappear on you after."
"Bobby died, I'm not…we're good. On my side." Tommy contemplates his food for a moment. "It's nice to see you again, though. How are you?"
"Okay. Um, you?"
"Yeah. Okay. Same old, mostly, but…I don't know. I, uh, I…" He trails off.
Buck licks his lips to say something and realizes he doesn't know what to say, but he's pretty sure Tommy's eyes just got wider. "It's been a weird year," Buck settles on.
"Yeah. Yep." Tommy gets up. "I'll be right back."
Buck pulls out his phone and texts Chimney.
Evan
Did you set me up?
Chimney
???
Evan
I am in a single room with MY EX-BOYFRIEND.
Chimney
Oh man. I didn't do room assignments.
Evan
ONE BED. and all the doubles are booked.
Chimney
At least you've shared with him before!
Evan
DID YOU SET ME UP?
Chimney
No! Do you want me to call and bother someone about it?
Evan
No, that's gonna make things weirder
I'll just deal with it
"Are you going to eat that or is it for decoration?"
Right, food. He is starving. The pasta dish smells pretty good. He digs in and it's quiet for a few minutes. For want of something to talk about, Buck asks, "Have you seen the hockey show?"
Tommy smiles. "I have seen the hockey show. It almost gave me a panic attack, but I liked it."
"I don't watch a lot of TV, but Maddie and Karen told me I had to."
That gets them through the late lunch or early dinner, whatever it is, and Buck makes an excuse to take a walk alone around the city until bedtime.
They set up conspicuously on the far sides of the bed. On their standard sides—Buck on the left, Tommy on the right—which hurts more.
He can't sleep. The A/C is too cold, the sheet isn't wide enough, and he hasn't shared a bed in a long time. He keeps shifting his body to get comfortable until Tommy rolls onto his front, reaches over, and presses a hand down on Buck's chest, hard. "Go to sleep, Evan," he croaks. Is Buck imagining the fondness in his voice?
Bossy jerk. And Buck could push him off easily. He's not that much stronger. But…it's kind of nice. And deeply cruel. Buck is weak, and he will take it.
Tommy's in the shower when Buck wakes up, but he's a lot closer to the center of the bed than when he fell asleep. It's warm, and it smells like Tommy.
This is going to be a very long work trip.
He doesn't want to duck out first. That's what Tommy does. But he also doesn't want to unload on Tommy, especially right here and now when they have classes and panels and things to attend.
So, Buck's not going to consider him at all. He's going to do whatever he would with a random roommate in a separate bed. He gets dressed, checks the time, and goes down for breakfast, which he's got about forty minutes to eat before he needs to get to the first session. Tommy is gone by the time he gets back to the room to brush his teeth and pick up his schedule. They don't have any sessions in common today, so Buck probably won't see him until after dinner.
He hits up the group chat at lunch.
Evan
You guys are not gonna believe what has happened to me.
Blanche
I want to hear it whether I'll believe it or not.
Evan
My boss sent me to a conference and the hotel is fully booked and I'm in a single room.
Faye
Your boss as in your brother
Artie
What's wrong with a single room
Evan
Well nothing except I got "randomly" assigned a roommate.
Mabel
You're sharing a bed with a hot firefighter? Wish I had your problems, go get it son
Evan
IT'S TOMMY
Carol
Your sexy pilot?
Evan
My EX sexy pilot!
Artie
So it's even easier to seduce him? What are you whining about, kid, get your man.
Carol
Send pictures
Blanche
Carol! Shame
Carol
Shame you drove into my house, Blanche.
The chat devolves a bit from there. Buck has to mute it long before he gets back to the room that evening.
Tommy's lying in bed, propped up against the headboard, scrolling on his phone. Buck takes the other side with the book he's trying to get through.
The fourth time he sneaks a glance at Tommy, Tommy is already staring at him. His cheeks burn. He turns back to his book. The words blur. Fuck it, they're already here, everything is already weird. They've been broken up for a year. How can Buck possibly make things worse at this point? "I wanted to know you better," he says, and then he looks again.
Tommy's brow furrows.
Buck tries to clarify. "We spent so much time together but so often we were just skimming the surface."
Tommy frowns for a second but then his face clears. "Okay. Tell me something I don't know about you."
"Let's make a deal. I say one and then you say one. They don't have to match. Just stuff we don't know about each other." Big feelings make Tommy skittish, though. "And we try not to overreact if we don't like the secrets. Right?"
"Okay," Tommy agrees. That was surprisingly easy. "Sure. You go first, though."
No problem. "I hate basketball," Buck says, setting his book on the nightstand.
"Oh, shit. Really? Wow, I whiffed the six months present, huh?"
"To be fair, I didn't tell you. And I would have gone to spend time with you at a fun thing. Your turn."
"Okay. Um, I like Engelbert Humperdinck. The sappy singer, not the composer."
"Is that a secret?"
"Is it less of a secret than you hating basketball?"
"Okay. Flying makes me nervous even though I like flying with you."
Tommy snorts. "That's not a secret, Evan, I'm not blind. Um, I was a real shithead when I was newer to the LAFD."
"Also not a secret," Buck says. "I know that story."
"Wow, and you started hitting on me immediately anyway."
"Well, I also knew how the story ended. Um, hmm. Okay, I got unicorn hunted a couple months ago."
"Unicorn hunted, huh."
"She called me that when they ambushed me at the station afterwards. Being out and bi and single is so weird. They hit on me separately on different days and didn't tell me they were married. Then we found them on instagram and thought they were siblings. I guess I'm still kind of pissed about it. They could have told me instead of making it all dirty like that."
"Well, I can't really blame them."
"I can! 'Ethical nonmonogamy' isn't very ethical if you're lying about it."
"Yes, terrible, they're assholes. I meant you're very pretty and charming, and who could resist."
Buck's stomach flutters as he fails to suppress a smile. "I turned them down once they told me. I don't think I have the strength for that." He takes a deep breath. "I'm not sure I'm very good at relationships."
"Is anyone really good at them?" Tommy always sounds so sure of himself, even when he's saying stuff like that.
"Maybe they are and we just don't know about it," Buck counters. "Your turn."
Tommy smiles. "Okay. Let me think." He taps his fingers on the mattress. "I guess I never said much about this. When I left Abby, I didn't tell her why. I think she knew it wasn't working, but I didn't tell her I was gay. I don't know if she knows. And then I went straight to picking up the first pretty young man who showed me attention and it was a complete disaster, my fault entirely. I sometimes wonder who I would be if I'd never wasted my time—and hers—pretending I was straight, or quietly bi, or whatever."
"Maybe not very different?"
"Yeah, maybe. It's um, fuck. I'm glad you didn't have to deal with the shit I did, or not in the same way, I mean. Don't ask, don't tell. Fucking Gerrard. I mean, you came out to your crew and Hen was already out, the rest of them were cool. It wasn't like that when I was at the 118."
"I—"
"I am glad, because it sucks, but it built a wall between us."
"So tear it down," Buck says before his brain can catch up and try to be more careful with his words.
"Well, it just feels like you never really thought about being gay. I mean, I understand you're bi, I'm saying, we dated for six months, you were always surprised about the most normal shit. People not realizing we were an item. Homophobic jokes from people who did pick up on it."
"I didn't know I was into guys until I met you."
"Yeah. No, I know." There's that face with a hint of condescension that might be warranted but always irritates Buck. "You uh, yeah, everyone's path is different but you did come off like a tourist sometimes."
"I'm not a tourist!"
"I know, Evan, I'm just saying—"
"Maybe it wasn't the same as you, but I did think about things. It was confusing. It was a lot to figure out after age thirty. I always…I always felt like I was looking for something. You turn up, and I just got fixated. I thought, I need him. I need him in my life but I wasn't even thinking, you know, I want to kiss you, just this completely aimless, well, no, it was focused, I just didn't understand it. I was so jealous of Eddie, I didn't know what was driving me insane and then…then you kissed me and it was like this big weird storm suddenly all concentrated into a single bolt of lightning. And-and I wanted more, and it was like I got my hands on this thing I was desperately searching for and finally I knew what it was. I guess that's a little silly how long it took me to figure it out."
"Maybe a little." Tommy looks fond now. He's infuriating. Evan is not going to survive all this whiplash.
He keeps talking. What else can he do? "You know, 'cause when I acted like an idiot on our first date, it wasn't because I was afraid of being into guys. It wasn't that. I mean, I'd sorta wished I was before, because I'd get these feelings about people and think how cool it would be to be able to make it bigger, more secure, longer lasting, if only I was into men. Not him. If anything it was a relief to realize I could feel those things. That I already was. My therapist says I have identity issues. I guess like, I got in my head about not being allowed to come out at my age. Would people believe me, would they be upset with me, would they feel like I lied to them? Or I'm lying now? Am I…what was the word. Am I co-opting an identity that isn't mine, just because I like this guy? And I just freaked out, I hadn't told him, I didn't want to—I wanted to keep it for myself for a little longer. And I realized pretty fast that worrying about all that stuff would keep me from getting what I wanted, but in that moment, I just couldn't handle it all."
"Is that your secret?"
Buck wants to kiss the smirk off his face. "Not good enough?"
"I didn't say—"
But Buck has been challenged. "Okay, here you go. My parents selected me from an array of embryos for compatibility with my brother's genes."
The smirk crashes to the ground. "Wait, what?"
"He died when I was two anyway. I couldn't save him. I didn't know he even existed until a few years ago, and before then, I never knew why I couldn't please my parents no matter what I did. Spare parts," he finishes brightly as Tommy stares with wide eyes.
Hmm. He's won this round, but the point wasn't to win.
"Jesus christ," Tommy says. "How do I match this one?"
"Well you don't, you don't match it. Just tell me something."
"Right." Tommy stares at the ceiling for a long while. Finally he says, "My mom, uh, my mom left me when I was ten." His hand clenches the sheet. "She said he was going to kill her no matter what she did, but if I was good, I would be fine. I never saw her again."
"Tommy," Buck says quietly, aching to hold him, "how does that not match? That's horrible."
He doesn't look at Buck. "She was basically right. By the time he started knocking me around that bad I was big enough to stop him."
"'That bad'?"
"Couple harrowing years, but uh, at least I didn't have to see him strangle my mom to death." He manages a small laugh. "She got away."
"Tommy—"
"Your turn."
"Have-have you seen her—"
"Your turn, Evan."
"Um. Okay. I…I don't know. One time a therapist came on to me during a session so I slept with her. Long time ago. I don't do that anymore."
Tommy finally looks at him again. "What kind of therapist does that? That is wildly unethical."
"Yeah. I mean, I'm okay, but yeah…probably…it was bad for me, definitely. It was a long time ago." Being beautiful has its drawbacks.
"I slept with my CO in the army."
"That seems dangerous."
"Yeah. Don't ask, don't tell. He was hot and, you know, not totally selfish in bed, but uh, there was a point I was like, if I want to stop, I don't know if I get to. But he got transferred so that solved that."
That doesn't seem like the end. "Did you?"
"Hmm?"
"Want to stop. Before he got transferred."
Tommy's face twists up like he bit into something sour. "Yeah."
"Jeez."
"I'm fine. It wasn't very long."
Buck watches him.
He laughs. "I'm okay, Evan." He's so beautiful. And sad.
Buck can't stand it anymore. "I have a secret. Big one."
"Oh man," Tommy says. "What's worse?"
"It's not worse. I'm just nervous about telling you."
"I feel like we're in pretty deep now."
Not deep enough. Buck examines the strangely bland artwork on the far wall. A beach scene print. "How about, I'll tell you. Same rules, you don't have to match it. But don't leave. I mean, not right away. Give us time to process and talk. Okay?"
"That sounds vaguely threatening."
"Please?"
"Okay." Tommy raises his hands. "Yes. Okay."
Buck barrels ahead before he stops himself. "I made a mistake when I asked you to move in."
"Evan—"
"You were right, it was too soon. But you were wrong about everything else. I think this, right here, is what I really wanted. We spent a lot of time together, we had fun, you were so sweet and I was crazy about you. I wanted the next step. This. The bad stuff. I mean, not that it's bad. But knowing it. You know?"
"Yeah."
"And I really fucked up when I snapped at you, I didn't mean a word of it, of course I had feelings for you. And not for Eddie, for the record. I was getting…mixed signals, I guess, and I freaked out. It was stupid. I should have called you. I'm sorry."
"Is that the secret?" Tommy asks softly.
"No." Buck swallows. "The secret is. The secret is…" He sits up and hugs his knees, staring down at them. Tommy sits up too, watching Buck, who blinks hard in an attempt to scare away impending tears. "I'm in love with you," he admits, his voice breaking. He can't look up, can't risk seeing what Tommy's face is doing right now. Keep going. "I have been the whole time. I can't shake it. I'm still just totally in love with you. I miss you so much, and I was afraid to say anything because you get skittish, and…maybe, maybe I hoped I could somehow…slowly…but here I go anyway, right? Throw everything in at once, like I always do."
"Oh, Evan." Tommy reaches out and pulls back just before touching him. His arm burns, his nerves seeking the aborted contact. "It was good. It was really good, it was—" Tommy chokes up and spits out, "Baby I don't know if you—I am…. I am hard to live with."
"But I want that. If it's too easy, it's not real. I know. I'm bad at making myself easy to love. Even though I do try. I try. I know I'm a lot."
"You're not. You're not hard to love, Evan. I…I like how open you are." Tommy's fingers reach under Buck's chin and lift his face. "I like how much I get to see. Yeah, you're a lot, but I like that. I like how much there is of you."
Those sweet, watery eyes are dangerous. "Then why do you have to hide?" Buck asks. "Why you, if I don't have to?"
Tommy lowers his hand and those sweet eyes look away, tears dripping silently. Buck wants to hold him so badly. He waits instead. Tommy takes a few shuddering breaths. It's a long time before he whispers, "I wasn't worth staying for."
Buck's heart breaks.
"And when I get in too deep, bad things happen." Like hurting Abby. Like getting trapped in a dangerous situation with your CO.
Buck can't stand this either. "Is that what you're gonna keep thinking for the rest of your life?" he asks. "That you don't get to be loved? That, that you were born into a bad situation that wasn't your fault and somehow you're to blame? That's horrible. Tommy. That's not true. You know that's not true. That's—And I want to stay. If you let me, I will. You give me any sign you want me to fight for this and I will chase you as long as it takes. I love you. Whether you want it or not, I love you." He sniffles and scrapes the tears from his eyes. He can be the strong one tonight.
"Yeah," Tommy sighs, his voice cracking. "You would, wouldn't you?"
"Say you don't want me. 'Cause I can't, I can't—"
"I want you," Tommy says. "Of course I—how could I not want you, you're…" He sniffles, and his voice drops. He stares at the bunched up blanket shoved to the foot of the bed. "Of course I want you."
"I'm right here," Buck pleads. He lowers his knees and holds out his arms. "I'm right here."
Tommy takes his time turning to meet Buck's gaze. It's new to see him so messy. He's usually calm and confident. Or pretending to be. Buck doesn't like that he's in pain, but he does like getting to be the one to see it, finally.
"I'm…" He squeezes his eyes shut, which does not stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry." He crawls two feet to cross the bed and falls into Buck's arms, his face mashed into his neck. "I'm sorry," he whispers again and again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Hey, hey, don't be sorry, it's okay, Tommy, I'm here, I'm here." Buck holds him tight, stroking his hair. "I'm here. I'm sorry too."
"I missed you," Tommy mumbles. "It was so good, Evan. It won't be the same this time." He draws back, wiping his eyes.
"Come here. Wait." Buck grabs all the pillows and piles them behind him. "Now come here." He lies back and pulls Tommy down to rest on his chest.
Tommy's fingers idly slide along the pec he isn't lying on. "I was trying to protect us both."
"Bad things might happen. But couldn't it be worth it?"
There's a warm puff of breath on his chest. "You know um, one of the best things about you, you're so real."
"Real?"
"Yeah. I…I'm not good at it. It makes me nervous. I joke around instead. I'm trying not to right now. Is it easy for you?"
"I guess? Not easy, exactly. I just don't know how to be any other way."
"I tasted it," Tommy says. "I wanted it so much I got scared. I got scared of having something so good and how much it would hurt when it ended."
"I don't want it to end."
"And if it didn't, the person I would have to be for you. To be with you."
"But I just want you. I don't want—"
"You want—you would need more than I'm used to letting people have. To see. And you would be right and it would be better, but it's just very hard for me. Childhood trauma, army training," he says with a pained laugh. "The oppressive, choking loneliness and terror of the closet, maybe," he adds, borderline theatrically. "Take your pick. Maybe I just came out this way."
"I believe in you," Buck says.
"Oh," Tommy says with a breathy, high tone. "Yeah. Okay."
"If you…" Buck tries to synthesize the things Tommy has been saying. "If you need, if you think—I guess, I just mean, we can go slow. Maybe not as slow as last time, but…"
"Yeah. Yeah."
"You shared a lot tonight. I-I know it was hard, I felt that, but you did it."
Tommy lets out a long breath. "I do, you know."
"You what?"
"I mean I can. Um. Match…it. Just…be patient. Please."
"You do?" Buck asks, hoping he correctly understands what Tommy is saying.
"Yeah, I just, um, about ninety-five percent of my body is trying to jump out the window right now, so…"
Buck tightens his arms around Tommy, which makes him laugh.
"Yeah, I probably need that."
"Will you stay until morning at least?"
"I'm not actually going to jump out the window, sweetheart, I just…yeah. Hang on tight, spider monkey."
"Spider monkey?"
"It's…Twilight."
"Oh, I never saw those."
"Didn't miss much. Kristen Stewart brooding."
"Not your type."
"Evidently not." His warm weight presses Buck into the pillows.
"I, um."
"Hmm?"
"I…don't know. Just…just glad we're here."
"Me too," Tommy admits quietly. "Um, not to nuke the mood. What time's it?"
"Eleven-thirty."
"Shit. I have an eight am sesh."
"Oh, me too. Maybe it's the same one. We should probably sleep, huh."
"I don't really wanna move."
"I don't want you to move either."
"Mm." Tommy yawns. "Lemme know if your arm falls asleep."
"Mm-mm. Won't. I'm big and strong."
Tommy laughs. "Can't argue with that."
"Good advice."
"Oh really?" Tommy says, lifting his head.
"Who was right? I'm just saying."
"Noted." He lies back down. "I'm going to sleep."
"Good night, Tommy."
"Night, Evan."
Buck closes his eyes and lazily strokes Tommy's back until he drifts off.
It's still dark when he blinks awake, feeling weird. Tommy's still on top of him. The warmth is nice, but he tries to tap his shoulder and…ah, damn it.
"Tommy," he whispers. "Hey, Tommy. Wake up."
"Ngh. What."
"My arm fell asleep."
Tommy snorts and rolls off. "Sorry, babe."
"It's fine," he says, shaking out the numbness.
Tommy trudges to the bathroom. When he returns, he tosses his jeans on the floor and crawls back under the covers. Buck snuggles up against his back for about two minutes before realizing he also needs to pee. But it's only one in the morning by the time he gets back, his alarm is set, and he's spooning his man. He presses a kiss to the back of his neck, gets a sleepy grunt in return, and falls back asleep.
Their alarms go off at the same time, forcing them to roll over and grab at their respective phones.
"Whyyy is your alarm 'Danger Zone'?" Buck groans.
"The rest of them are set to default. Luce must have pranked me."
"Donato?"
"Yeah, she's a handful. Hey." Tommy touches his cheek. "Good morning."
"Morning," Buck says, with a smile he can't quash.
"I wanna kiss you so much, but we don't have time."
"Not even a little one?"
"I don't think I can be trusted." He sits up. "You get ready, I'll grab us some breakfast and we can switch."
"Okay, yes sir," Buck teases.
"Don't start something you're not gonna finish," Tommy says with a wink, but he gets up and pulls on his jeans.
Buck stares at those thighs. How good it would feel to drag his tongue through the soft hair up, up—
"Hey." The jeans cruelly cover him. "Get going, baby."
"Uh-huh."
Tommy kisses his forehead and that makes Buck want to grab at him and hold him close. But they have things to do. A whole day to get through. And more things to talk through, probably, before they get to tearing off each other's clothes once again.
Tommy is so irritatingly professional during the two sessions they have together that Buck catches himself imagining some very inappropriate things when he should be learning.
It's fine.
They run into each other at their room door in the evening. "Dinner together?" Tommy asks. "I got a per diem burning a hole in my pocket."
"Guess I am pretty hungry. But uh, there's something in there I gotta get. Maybe you can help me find it," Buck says pointedly.
"Ooh." There's that grin Buck loves so much. "What are the odds we find it in time to eat?"
"Pretty high. I was just planning to tease and then make you wait."
"Oh, make me wait, because I'm the impatient one."
"I have plans for later."
"Do these plans involve talking more?"
"You know me so well."
"Are you going to unlock that door or just stand here forever?"
Buck finds the keycard and is followed very closely into the room. The door clicks shut and Tommy crowds him against the wall. "So," Tommy says, running his fingertips down Buck's arm, "what did you have in mind?"
"I found a Thai place with good reviews."
"Is that what you were looking for in here?"
The temptation to tear off his clothes and throw him on the bed is nearly overwhelming, but…Buck cannot fuck it up this time. He can't dive into sex with Tommy again without talking about the fact that they broke up twice over stupid crap. "Just this," he says instead of jumping him, and he cups Tommy's jaw and kisses him. "Missed that," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to his boyfriend's. His maybe-boyfriend. His something.
"Me too."
"So. Thai food?"
"All right."
"And then, if you're very good, we'll see."
"Ooh, if I'm good?"
"That's what I said."
Tommy's expression of fake outrage dissolves into a fond, beaming grin. "I missed you so much."
Buck wants to push it. Good luck getting rid of me this time. But that will needle him, and it will not get them closer to what they want. What Buck wants. What Evan wants. Which is everything, forever. He clasps his hands behind Tommy's waist. "I thought about you every day."
"Every day?"
"Every day. Even the days I should have been focusing on other things. Maybe especially those days."
"God, you scare the hell out of me, you know that?"
"I'm not trying to."
"I know." He kisses Buck lightly. "I could do Thai food."
"We should get going before we…"
"Yeah."
"Why do I scare you?" Buck asks over dinner.
"Hmm?"
"You said I scare the hell out of you. What's that mean?"
"Oh, uh…you like me. Or…you love me. And I…it's a lot to live up to."
"You're a rescue pilot. You live up to a lot already."
"Not at all the same thing, babe."
"No, but I'm saying, you do a lot."
"Oh, and that's all you need from me? To be good at my job?"
"Right, okay."
"I want this, Evan. I'm just saying, you want things, it's hard, I'm trying, and I'm gonna complain a little. Or at least narrate my nerves."
"Narrate your nerves. You realize you've basically committed domestic terrorism for me."
"Yeah, and I cry watching The Nutcracker. I've got layers."
"I…I know." Buck frowns a little. "Like, which part?"
"Which part?"
"Of The Nutcracker."
"Oh, like half of it. The dance between Clara and the Prince, the one right after it with the snow, the 'Waltz of the Flowers'."
"I do like the flowers. Yeah."
"I don't like authority. I do like you. See the difference there?"
"Yeah. I get it."
"Also the finale. When the dream ends and she's in bed. She had everything. She still does, but it's all in her head."
"And that makes you cry."
"Don't laugh."
"I'm not." Buck smiles. "Maybe we can go together this December."
"You like ballet?"
"Sure. Well, I at least like that one."
"All right. It's a date." Tommy is so cute when he smiles and the lines around his eyes scrunch. Buck wants to kiss him right here in front of everyone.
He doesn't, of course. He behaves, and eats his dinner, and they walk back to the hotel in the dark.
"I've been thinking," Buck says, pulling the covers down.
"Oh no."
"Rude."
"C'mere." Tommy pulls him into bed and kisses him. "I'm listening."
"I forgot everything," Buck says.
"Oh, what a shame," Tommy says, sliding a hand up Buck's shirt.
"I remembered. You're not helping. Hang on."
"Okay, okay."
Buck sits back, legs crossed. "I wanna talk. It was good, but we broke up. Like, twice. And now we know some heavy stuff about each other, but I think we should talk about what we did wrong. Or, I mean, what we want and need from each other, that maybe didn't happen last time."
Tommy sighs heavily. "Yeah."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, you're totally right. You know me, I get antsy."
"I'll hold your hand."
Tommy laughs. "Okay. Well, if you're holding my hand, I think I can be brave."
"You should go first."
"Mm."
"You sorta brought some things up last night."
"Unnggh." Tommy rubs his eyes. "Yeah. I guess…maybe, look, I don't want to dismiss your journey. I don't. And like I said, I am glad you didn't have to deal with some of the shit I did. And I recognize that the fact you didn't realize you were queer at all until your thirties isn't necessarily a gift, that's…that's just, hell world, we live in it. But…well. I guess I would want, you know, when we, if, like if some random woman—there's, um, okay, like…"
He's flailing and it's cute, but it's also stressful. "Write it down, maybe," Buck offers.
"Ha. Our last date, the one where we talked about Abby, a woman flirted with you, and it would have been reassuring if you had just said you were here with your boyfriend. I would like it if that were something you could do. In a broad sense. I know that isn't always the right call, but we're big butch guys who live in LA and not in danger of losing our jobs, or…"
"Tommy. I can do that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I feel like I'm more…I don't know. Settled."
"Good. That's good, I'm glad. Okay, uh, your turn."
"Well, uh, this is going to sound mean. I don't mean to be mean."
"Say it."
"If I do stuff that is wrong, if I move too fast, too hard, if I screw up, if I hurt you, I want to know as soon as possible."
"That's not mean."
"And…if you're making things up about me in your head, I want to know, because if it's true I can fix it, and if it's not true, I can tell you that."
Tommy nods, a corner of his mouth twitching downward. "Right. Yeah, I deserved that."
"It's not about deserving, I just want…. We can be happy. I think it would be easy."
"With your checklists, yeah."
"Hey, wow."
"I'm just teasing."
"Um, okay, but sometimes you're just teasing and sometimes you're…" Accusing me of using you as a starter boyfriend until I can seduce my platonic best friend. "...not."
"You—yeah. I'm sorry. I am just teasing, I have no problem with your checklists."
"Even if I dump you for the checklists?"
"Rowr. Okay. That really hurt your feelings, huh."
"Yes. A lot. Yes. And then I lost you, and that was worse. I…"
"Evan."
"I'm trying to make it in the past. You talked like you spent six months with one foot out the door because you thought I was just having fun. But I was serious. I thought—" Buck swallows. "I'm sorry."
Tommy takes his hand. "Keep talking," he says gently.
"It just, it happens to me a lot. People thinking I'm not serious, or that I can't stay serious, or…or that I don't mean—that I don't have the, the capacity to, and I don't really understand why. I wish people would take me seriously. It's like everyone in my life now, except my knitting crew. They're cool. And Ravi. He's fine. And I understand that you have these, um, insecurities that are not because of me. I know. It was…it was another thing. And I know I screwed up, and I know I reacted badly. I spent a year wishing I had said anything else. I love you so much."
"I do take you seriously, Evan."
"Yeah. It…I know. You told me, I…I just have to put it all together and let it settle. I will."
"I know."
Buck brushes his wet eyes. "Okay. Um. Your turn. Anything else?"
"Uh…" Tommy rubs Buck's hand. "I was gonna say read a book, but that sounds kind of crass right now."
"No, no. I like books. What book?"
"A book about the gay rights movement. You're an ally—"
"Shut up—" Buck retorts, maybe a little more harshly than he means too.
Tommy laughs, though. "I've got one I would really appreciate you reading."
"Okay. No problem. I can read a book."
"I know you care. And you have to because you're in it now. And not everywhere is LA. Hell, LA isn't Ptown."
"I will read the book, Tommy. I would also like to hear what you have been through, if you can share."
"Yeah. Not tonight, but yeah. I can do that."
"And I won't ask you to move in too fast."
"Okay, first, I like my house, and I own it, so, if anyone's moving in, it should be you. And second, I probably still would've freaked out but it'd be better if we started with discussing whether we're moving toward that and in what time frame."
"Yeah. Got it."
"I mean, I'm…I'm not saying my way or the highway; there are other homes in the world. I'm just saying, if slash when we get to that point, I'm not giving up my garage for a loft."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm, you're right. I was having my big feelings like I always do, and I thought that was the right way to express them. I'm…I'm always trying to make a home wherever I live and they never really feel—mm."
Tommy climbs into Buck's lap and kisses him hard. "I'm here with you, sweetheart," he says, his hands cupping Buck's face and thumbing along his cheekbones. "And if you wanna hammer out a few more things with a counselor or something, I can be dragged to one, but I think we have enough to work with by now, don't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. But, you know, in case I wasn't completely clear—"
"I think you were—"
"Round three, I want to be with you long term. Maybe forever. We, we can slow down, but it's not casual, I am very serious about you."
"I know, Evan. And I'm here. Just need a little patience."
"Patience. Okay."
"Maybe not patience for everything," Tommy adds, pushing Buck down into the mattress and pinning his wrists above his head. "Did I behave? Was I good, baby?"
Evan flexes, testing a little. He doesn't have the leverage or gravity on his side. Tommy is just a little bigger, a little stronger, with a slightly lower center of gravity so pound for pound, he wins. But he really only wins if Evan likes it. He can't break free. It's comforting. "Very good." He was crying five minutes ago, but this really is the best thing for him. The soothing weight of the man he loves, and responsibility taken from him for a little while. He doesn't want it every time—sometimes Tommy wants to be taken care of, and most of the time they don't play like this at all—but right now it is exactly what he needs.
Tommy nips his ear and whispers, "Definitely good?" His eyes meet Evan's with a careful question.
He's so fucking beautiful. Evan whimpers and grinds against him, drawing out that crinkly grin Evan loves so much. "Definitely good," he affirms, begging for more, harder, hold me down and wreck me. "Please, Tommy, please, oh…" The hard kisses on his neck and powerful thigh between his legs steal his words.
"Shh, baby, we don't want to disturb the neighbors."
Evan groans and nods. He can behave.
"Good boy. When we get home, I'll take you in my house and you can be as loud as you want." Tommy steals a kiss and sits up. "Take your clothes off."
Evan jumps to obey, his shirt, pants, and boxer briefs landing on the floor in seconds.
"Mm, beautiful," Tommy murmurs.
"I wanna see you."
Tommy doesn't tease, just strips down and pushes Evan back into bed. Evan pulls his hips down, but Tommy taps his chest. "Hands up."
He does it, dropping his wrists above his head. Tommy traps them against the pillow with one hand and settles his weight on him. "I missed your body," he whispers, his thigh pushing between Evan's legs as his hard cock grinds against Evan. "I missed the way your eyes get so hungry, so needy for me."
Evan's breath shudders. Tommy's hips thrust against him.
"I missed being inside you, inside your hot, sweet hole, missed watching you fall apart, missed making you flail and moan."
"Tommy," Evan gasps, trying to stay quiet.
"Missed you inside me, you were so good to me, baby, made me feel so full, so good, so close to you."
"Oh, god, do you, do you want—"
"I want you to suck me off, and then I'll give you what you need."
"Yes. Yes. Please, I want…" He's cut off with Tommy's lips on his, his tongue licking into Evan's mouth, and all he can do is try to meet him until his arms are released and Tommy climbs off him. Tommy tosses a pillow on the floor, sits on the edge of the bed, and pats his thigh.
Evan scrambles up and sinks to his knees on the pillow.
"Don't frontload," Tommy says as Evan starts caressing his thighs. "I want your mouth on me."
"Frontload what?" Evan says, trying to parse the use of that word, but Tommy's fingers slide into his hair and tighten, so he dives in, sucking the tip into his mouth and pressing his tongue against the vein. Tommy trembles under his hands and Evan looks up to see his eyes flutter closed as his mouth falls open.
Evan grins and takes him deeper.
He tries not to make it too fast, wanting to savor the feel of the velvety weight on his tongue, the sound of the hitched breaths, the whispered Evan and so good and yes more baby good boy. But after a few minutes the fingers tighten in his hair. Tommy gasps as Evan intensifies the suction, humming in the back of his throat. With a quiet whimper, Tommy goes taut and spills, and Evan swallows, looking up to bask in the dazed smile.
"Mm." Tommy pets his hair. "You have the sweetest mouth. C'mon, get back up here."
Evan sucks him clean and hops back on the bed. Tommy motions for him to lie down, still panting. "Need a minute, old man?" Evan asks.
"Don't get smart while I'm trying to dom."
"I was trying to give you something to play off."
"Ooh, I wish I had the patience and time and supplies to edge you tonight. You into that? I bet you are."
"I…guess? I don't think I've ever done it, I mean, not as a whole thing. I'll try most things once."
"Hmm. I think you'd like it. Later. Hands above your hand, spread your legs wide, bend your knees."
"It's more fun if you make me."
Tommy turns to him with an exasperated face that means Evan is about to get exactly what he asked for. "Is it, now."
Evan sighs dramatically. "Fine, whatever."
Tommy shoves him down and pushes his legs apart. "Like that? That's what you want?"
"Please."
"Anything for you, baby. If you're good."
"Have I been good?" Evan asks.
Tommy grins and shakes his head. "I don't know. So maybe…I'll just do what I want to do anyway."
"What-what do you want to do?"
Tommy leans over him, presses his arms into the mattress, and mouths at his throat. Evan exhales happily and relaxes easily as Tommy makes his way south and takes him into his mouth.
Evan would be happy with a quick, hard suck and getting off in a couple minutes but Tommy starts slow and sloppy, spit dribbling down his balls.
And drags the spit down with this thumb to rub it into Evan's hole. He bites his hand to keep quiet as Tommy speeds up. He opens his eyes and looks down to find Tommy staring at him intently as he swallows Evan deeper. Those beautiful blue eyes, almost a deep slate in the low light…
Tommy's tongue drags across his vein, and Evan gasps in surprise as he comes, his body shaking.
"Good time?" Tommy teases.
Evan reaches for him. "C'mere."
"I gotcha." Tommy crawls up the bed and pulls Evan into his arms. "God, did I miss you."
"Me too. So much." They're quiet in the afterglow for a few minutes, then Buck asks, "What'd you mean by frontload?"
"Huh?"
"You said frontload when I was about to—"
"Oh. I think I meant to say foreplay, but I meant…well, you know what I meant. Frontloading…don't spend all your time groping me when you could be blowing me. I guess."
"Okay." Buck yawns. "I have another secret."
"Oh?"
"I joined a knitting circle with some old people. They call it Stitch and Bitch. And they do. They're fun."
"Yeah! You said knitting crew, I caught that. Tell me about them."
"They bought me at auction."
"Wow! I didn't like the way that sounded."
"Bachelor auction for charity."
"Okay, better. Ugh, they tried to drag me into one of those a few years ago, I said absolutely not."
"Yeah I didn't wanna do it again, but it worked out in the end. I actually really like hanging out with them. And knitting is fun. And the guy is gay, and, I mean, it's nice to have a friend. Besides Hen and Karen, obviously. And Josh. I mean outside of work, I guess."
"You should meet some of my friends. They'll probably like you better than me."
"No way, you're too lovable."
"I try." Tommy yawns massively. "I gotta crash, tomorrow is full."
"Me too, but you're the one on my side."
"Mmhmm." Tommy kisses his crown and pushes him off. "Dibs on the bathroom."
They sleep well that night with very little space between them.
"You showering?" Tommy croaks in the morning after he turns off the alarm he swears Lucy must have switched to "Mighty Wings" this time.
"Yeah," Buck calls from the bathroom. "My hair needs washed."
"Needs washed," Tommy repeats.
"Needs…to be washed. Needs washing. Whatever."
"I wasn't making fun of you, I uh, no, I knew a guy in the army who talked like that. From uh, Lancaster." He pronounces it with the long A and accent on the first syllable.
Buck wants to jump him again. "Lancaster. Now you're just trying to impress me."
"Always."
"It's working."
"Needs washed. Efficient."
"Join me if you want."
"Oh, that will not be efficient. We won't make it to our sessions. I'll get us breakfast."
"Thanks, babe."
Even after all the conversations, it feels strange how easy it is to fall back together. To have permission to express his feelings whenever he wants, to kiss Tommy and fuck him. They've been apart so long.
"Hey," he says as Tommy returns with the plates of protein and bagels.
"Hey?"
"I just wanted to say, um, after everything, I didn't call you because I was feeling really broken. And I didn't wanna call just to dump on you. I didn't want you to feel like I was using you like that."
"I…I mean, I should have called after the funeral."
"No, no, it was on me to—I mean, you came through and that was way too much to ask."
Tommy squeezes Buck's hand. "It wasn't. Not for Chim, and not for you. Please always call me when it's life or death, I'd rather go down trying."
"I guess I wanted to be someone who—I mean, I wanted to—yeah. What I said. I was a wreck, I was trying so hard with the 118 and failing there, and I know they ditched you after we broke up, and I didn't want to call you to cry about it. That wouldn't have been fair. And he was your friend too, and I didn't know what to do."
"Okay!" Tommy says brightly. "I think we did it."
"What?"
"I think we went through all the things. Let's be boyfriends anyway."
"Oh. Yes. Yeah."
"Hello boyfriend," Tommy says, wrapping his arms around Buck and giving him a sloppy cheek kiss.
"Mm." Buck soaks in the feeling for a moment. "Boyfriend. I missed being your boyfriend."
"Me too, Evan." Tommy nuzzles his neck and inhales deeply. "Me too."
"I'm glad you pushed your flight back," Evan says. "It wouldn't be as fun doing this without you." He's enchanted by a silent bleeding heart dove.
Tommy hasn't been to a zoo in years. They're in the Bird House surrounded by feathery beasts, some of which are cooing, and some of which are making…other sounds.
Evan has the sparkliest eyes of anyone Tommy has ever met. They're sparkling right now, watching doves and pigeons flutter around. He turns his head and catches Tommy staring. "What?"
"I'm glad I'm here too."
Evan grins warmly but is quickly distracted by some sort of pheasant-peacock thing. Tommy hits the water fountain and catches up with him. There's a woman chatting with him. He's his usual animated self, and she is vividly hitting on him, moving into his space.
Tommy hangs back for a moment. He shouldn't. He trusts Evan. He has to.
It takes Evan about ten seconds to react to the situation. He steps back, shakes his head, and looks around, spots Tommy, then points and beckons him over.
"So yeah, I have a boyfriend, but thanks," Evan says, grabbing Tommy's hand the moment he's in range.
"Man, all the hot guys are gay," she says. "Lucky you."
"I'm actually bi. Not that it matters to you, um, since…"
"I'm gay," Tommy says. He presses his free hand to his heart and adds, "And yes, I'm very hot."
"That is true," Evan says.
She laughs. "Well. It is a very cool pheasant. Um, see you around."
"Probably not," Tommy says. "We're from LA; we just came for a firefighter conference."
"Firefigh—stopppp, this is so mean," she whines as she walks away.
"It is kind of mean to take you off the market, isn't it?" Tommy murmurs in Evan's ear.
"Nope," Evan says. "I want to be taken." He turns his head and drops a quick kiss on Tommy's lips. "Let's go to the swamp. You said you wanted to see the ibises." He pulls Tommy out of the Bird House. All Tommy has to do is follow.
It's starting to look like a good fucking idea.
Evan
Good news everyone
Artie
Spill the good news, kid
Blanche
Did you get him?
Faye
Who are we talking about?
Mabel
Did you seduce the hot pilot, did you lock that down?
Carol
And are there pictures?
Artie
Show us the goods, pretty boy, we want a couple's selfie
Blanche
You don't have to invade his privacy!
Evan
🥰