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consulting-goddess-of-deductions · 6 days ago

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for the cuddling prompts, #22?

22. Congratulatory. I'm taking a page out of @screamlet's book. This is a sequel to this prompt. It, uh, also got away from me a little.

It was close to full dark by the time Buck made it home, containers with the cupcakes buckled into the seat next to him. It would have been later if Huang, his lieutenant and the only person who understood the volunteer schedule, hadn’t shoved those same containers into his arms and kicked him out with a brusque, “You’ve spent all shift making those for your kid, Cap. So go see that kid.”

Three years since he took command of Roundabout Station, and he still sometimes caught himself automatically looking for Bobby or Hen whenever one of his firefighters called him cap. “You’ll grow into it,” Hen had assured him, and he would, of course he would, but he hoped he never really got used to it. He liked the reminder, as tender as it was.

Tommy’s truck was in the driveway, which meant the late ‘90s hatchback that Tommy swore wasn’t for Maia was up on the lift. She still had more than a year to go before she could even get her learner’s permit, Evan, so why would he be working on a beater for her to learn on? This was just something occupy him between school board meetings and haunting the dreams of the town of Yakima’s zoning board.

Juggling the containers and keys, he peeked into the garage on his way past. Yup, there was the hatchback with its new brake pads that didn’t really fit their budget and the engine Tommy was already well on his way to rebuilding. Buck had his fingers crossed Tommy would give in and admit he was going to run for the open spot on the school board or otherwise instead of the nice hotel room he’d been planning on booking for their summer trip to LA, they were going to have to all share Maddie’s couch.

Inside, he dropped the keys into the designated bowl and neatly sidestepped the shoes Maia constantly kicked off right in front of the door. It was one of her tests, trying to map out the edges of their patience so she could push against them. Buck never thought he’d sympathize with his parents, but it turned out that living with a teenager really helped give you perspective.

“Hey, handsome,” he said, slipping into the kitchen where Tommy was loading the dishwasher in the Kinard née Buckley approved manner.

“Hey, yourself,” Tommy said, closing the dishwasher. LAFD retirement looked good on him. He was broader across the shoulders and a little softer around the middle, and his vacation beard had become permanent the minute they crossed the Washington State line. More gray had crept in over the years, but he was still impossibly handsome, and Buck would marry him again in a heartbeat. “Is that the goods?”

“That’s them, you nerd. Is she in her room?”

Tommy stretched up to take down the big platter Buck mostly broke out for firehouse Thanksgiving. “Can’t you tell?” Tommy said, head cocking towards the back of the house.

There it was, the thumping bass of whatever the hot new artist was.

“Are you going to be very judgmental if I admit that I kind of like being too old to know what’s popular now?” he asked, gingerly lifting the lid off the top container. Some minor frosting smudging but no major mishaps.

“After all the shit you’ve given me about being an old man? Absolutely.”

“You never even had a Spotify account,” Buck said, gently nudging Tommy’s ribs. “And I love that you’re an old man.”

Tommy leaned in close and dropped his voice. “Oh, I know you do. Sometimes you love it twice a night.”

That would normally be his cue to back Tommy into the counter and prove it, but he was a dad now (a dad!), and so he took an extra moment just to make sure they wouldn’t be walked in on—Maia had cranked the music up a couple of notches, which meant she knew he was home—and then boxed Tommy in.

“We can go for three if you think your hips are up for it,” he said, nipping at that Superman jawline.

Tommy snorted even as his hand snuck up the back of Buck’s shirt. “I’m not the one that had to stop because he got a cramp last week.”

“Briefly stopped,” Buck protested, pouting when Tommy kept dodging away from his mouth. “I finished sucking you off after I stretched.”

“So romantic.” Tommy patted his hip and slipped away. “Let’s get this set up.”

Buck had spent the better part of the afternoon baking a few dozen cupcakes. Most of them came home but he left several for the kids to pick over; just because they weren’t getting paid didn’t mean Buck couldn’t keep them fed.

Tommy pulled out the C cupcake, peeling back the edge of the liner. “Is this a rainbow? Did you make rainbow cupcakes?”

“She’s going to hate it so much,” he said happily, picking out the O and the N. “But she’s going to hate the fact that she actually likes it even more.”

“You’re going to be on her shit list,” Tommy said fondly.

Buck tipped his head to the second container. “I planned for that. There’s backup chocolate to buy my way back into her good graces.”

“You’re so organized,” Tommy said appreciatively, which almost made up for their short argument about how congratulations was spelled.

“You want me go get her?” Tommy asked once everything was laid out, complete with the explanation mark that Shawn had been so proud of. Maia was still unsure about them, but she was a little more sure of Tommy, who packed her lunches and dropped her off at school and the library and, sometimes, the station to keep Buck company when Tommy was off terrorizing the zoning board.

“She’s more likely to come out for you,” he said.

“She likes you, Evan. She’s just a tough cookie.” Tommy pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And we’re very lucky the youth haven’t decided that Rammstein is ironically cool again.”

“Rammstein?” he asked.

“German metal band that was big in the early aughts. It’s like you’re not even a Millennial.”

“I’m like eighty percent sure you’re making that up.”

“Du, du hast, du hast mich,” Tommy sang as he headed towards Maia’s room at the end of the hall.

“That doesn’t prove anything!” Buck shouted after him.

Tommy rapped his knuckles on Maia’s door. “Hey, kid, I’m gonna need you to emerge from the Batcave. Evan’s home and it’s time to figure out dinner.”

Even from the kitchen, Buck could hear the sigh Maia heaved as she opened the door and said, “What do you know about the Batcave? You hate superhero movies.”

“They were comics before they were a genre that ruined moviemaking for an entire generation.”

“You’re so weird,” Maia said, and Buck had to smile helplessly; it was such a teenager response to a parent.

(God, they were dads. They had a kid who hated mornings and math and being seen in public with them. It was perfect).

Platter in hand, Buck waited until Maia stepped into the kitchen before saying, “Surprise!”

She jumped and then was annoyed for jumping, her gaze cutting between him and the cupcakes. “What fresh hell is this?” she said in the flat tone she used when she was feeling big feelings and didn’t want them to know.

“Language,” Tommy lightly chided even though Maia had heard them saying much worse. Parenthood, Buck was learning, involved a fair measure of hypocrisy.

“A little bird told me that you passed your math test,” he said brightly, “and so we’re going to celebrate.”

“A little bird, huh?” Maia said, casting an irritated look Tommy’s way.

“A little bird who never skips leg day,” Tommy said serenely. “Have a cupcake.”

Eyeing them suspiciously, Maia chose the exclamation point. “It’s just a C.” She picked at the paper liner. “Barely a C.”

“That’s still a twenty point improvement over your last quiz,” Buck said, sharing a look with Tommy. “And we know how hard you’ve been working at this. You’ve stayed after school and went to tutoring during your lunch period instead of sneaking off campus like some of us may have done.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tommy said, taking the T like the predictable bastard that he was. “Some of us were hotwiring our dad’s old car.”

“You know how to hotwire a car?” Buck said, sliding the platter back onto the counter. “I didn’t know that. Why don’t I know that? That’s very, uh, very—”

“The point is,” Tommy said as Maia made a face, “is that we’re very proud of you.”

Maia shrugged. “Thanks, I guess. It’s not a big deal.”

Biting back a sigh, Buck grabbed the N. “We’re still celebrating. You get to pick dinner and the movie tonight.”

She perked up. “So whatever I want? Like a normal movie and not, you know?” She gestured at Tommy.

“What do you mean by normal?” Tommy said with mock offense. “All my movies are normal.”

“Eh,” Buck said, tilting his hand back and forth. “You made us watch that black and white one last week.”

“With the old timey accents,” Maia added with a teenager’s unerring sense of when to pile on.

“It was The Thin Man,” Tommy said. “It’s a classic and neither of you have taste.”

“You know I’ve heard your playlists, right?” Maia said. “I don’t think you know what taste is.”

Buck held a hand to his heart. “Ouch. That’s a solid hit.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go pick something out.”

“Hold on,” Tommy said, holding out his cupcake. “To passing your math test.”

Maia stared at the cupcake and then up at them, brow furrowed. She wasn’t wary, Buck knew how that looked on her, but more confused, like she couldn’t figure out if they were making fun of her. Maia talked a good game—she was sharp and spiky and so fucking angry—that Buck could almost forget that she was just a scared kid who had learned the hard way that the majority of adults in her life just didn’t give a shit where she ended up.

“Don’t leave us hanging,” Buck said gently, waggling his cupcake.

“You’re so weird,” Maia repeated, but she tapped her cupcake to theirs, and even smiled a little as they all got frosting on her fingers. That smile lasted as long as it took her to bite into it. “Oh my god, is this a fucking rainbow?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Buck the hypocrite said. “Do you like it?”

“No,” she said even as she took another bite. “I hate how good this is. I’m gonna go find something to watch.” She spun on her heel only to spin back. “And I want Chinese.”

“The usual?” Tommy asked around his own mouthful of cupcake. There was frosting on his upper lip and Buck was admirably not licking it off.

“Yeah, and I want fries.” She pointed a stern finger at him. “Don’t say anything. They’re good.”

“Lo mein and French fries,” Buck said. “Got it. You want some dumplings?”

“I want all the dumplings.” She shoved the rest of the cupcake into her mouth and disappeared into the living room.

Tommy had his phone out and was calling in their usual horrifying order to their local place where the owner always slipped in an extra egg roll for Maia. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes. Want to make out until I have to go pick it up and maybe scandalize the kid?”

“Like you even need to ask,” Buck said, and pulled Tommy in.

Having a kid didn’t put a damper on their sex life so much as make them more creative. They took advantage of what privacy they had—in the afternoon while Maia was in school, the nights she spent at a friend’s house, in the backseat of the hatchback for a quick handjob, that one time behind the ladder truck after a structure fire Tommy had volunteered to help on and that his team still hadn’t let him live down—and snuck in moments like this, Tommy’s big hand holding him by the nape, Buck pulling Tommy in by the hips, everything gone soft and hot and—

“Hey, where’s that one binder with the—oh my god!”

Buck pulled back just in time to see Maia spin around, the back of her neck a bright embarrassed red.

“They’re all under the coffee table,” Buck said while Tommy laughed breathlessly into his neck. “You need help looking?”

“Nope, I got it,” she said and scuttled out.

“I think that’s my cue,” Tommy said, dropping another kiss on his mouth. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

Buck waited until he was gone to grab another cupcake and head to the living room where Maia was sitting on the floor and flipping through one of three binders filled with the DVDs that Tommy was less precious about then his beloved romcoms and gay indies.

“He does know streaming exists, right?” she said without looking up.

“You know his feelings on physical media.” He hesitated and silently apologized to his leg before folding down next to her. He set the cupcake next to her elbow. “I’m sorry you walked in on us.”

“It’s fine. I mean, you’re gross, but whatever.” She snuck a glance at him before snatching up the cupcake. “You really didn’t have to do this. It’s just one test.”

“One test you studied so hard for,” he said because he remembered being fourteen and being faced with parents’ disappointment at his grades. They never cared how hard he tried, only that he never got an A.

“And I barely managed a C,” she said bitterly, breaking off the bottom of the cupcake.

“A C on your least favorite subject. Now if this was history, yeah, I’d be a little concerned.” He nudged her shoulder. “I also sucked at math. The only time I was good at it was when I got struck by lightning and had super math powers for the week.”

“Yeah, sure, who hasn’t had that happen,” she said, which was such a Tommy thing to say that Buck had no choice but to give her a small side hug that she tolerated for an impressive ten seconds before shrugging him off.

“My point is,” he continued, “is that Tommy and me, we see how hard you’re trying. You’ve gone through a lot of change lately. You moved in with us and had to start a new school. It would totally be understandable if you just gave up on that class and focused on what you liked. But instead you gave up your lunch period and afternoons to keep working at a subject you hate. And we’re so proud of you for that, Maia. That’s what we’re celebrating.”

“I think that just makes me a nerd,” she said, ducking her head and pretending that she didn’t actually care about anything he said. “What are the odds of you letting me watch something with incredible violence?”

He pretended to think about it. “Low, but Tommy will let you get away with it if you find something with themes.”

She returned to her task with renewed interest, and Buck left her to it.

He was always going to love whatever kid they were given the responsibility of caring for, that was never in question, but Tommy, god, he adored Maia. Their second week with them, she snuck out to a friend’s house only to return with bright purple streaks in her hair and a defiant jut to her chin, and that was it, Tommy was done for. They were going to be in big trouble once she figured out she had Tommy wrapped around her finger.

“Hey,” Tommy said when he returned with their dinner, “little help.”

“Did Evan really get weird lightening math powers?” Maia asked as she helped unload everything. The owner snuck in some sweet and sour soup in addition to the extra egg rolls.

“That was before I met him.” Tommy passed out the chopsticks.

Maia nodded like that made sense, and started eating with a worryingly intense focus. She still had a stash of energy bars and raisins and little fruit cups in her room, but she at least had stopped creeping into the kitchen at night to sneak leftovers and was getting better at asking for what she wanted. That was, their social worker had promised, a sign that she was beginning to trust them.

Tommy was the one who insisted they sit down to family dinner, even if most nights Maia only offered up one words answers when they asked about school and her friends and what she wanted to do that weekend before escaping to her room and the refuge of terrible music. Tonight was a little better. She insisted that they try the fries, and said, like a dare, “I told you they’re good.”

“They’re not bad,” Buck said because it was hard too fuck up fries.

“Wait until we go to LA,” Tommy said. “The food scene there is going to blow your mind, kid.”

Once they were done eating—Maia housing the rest of the noodles without bothering to chew—they decamped to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn and more cupcakes to the kung fu movie Maia had picked out.

“Evan said I couldn’t pick something with incredible violence,” she said, prickly and defensive at their raised eyebrows. “This only has moderate violence.”

“I forgot I had these,” Tommy said, taking the middle of the couch like a gentleman. “I watched a lot of these during my probie year.”

“Yeah, that checks out,” Buck said, touching knuckles to Tommy’s arm.

“My first captain was a jerk,” he explained to Maia, who wasn’t as good at hiding her curiosity as she thought she was. “So it was very satisfying to see other jerks get kicked in the head.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she said with a heaviness too great for a fourteen year old. “Let’s get on with the head kicking.”

Buck had been delighted to see that Maia watched movies in the exact same way Tommy did: silent and intent and with their phones silenced. Although, to be fair, that was easier for Maia since she was only allowed a flip phone. They had a standing monthly argument over her being allowed a smart phone that she refused to concede despite the fact she was never going to win it. Her stubbornness was admirable but amateurish; he and Tommy had her outclassed.

Unfortunately, he was not like them, and he made it halfway through the movie and a quarter of the way through the popcorn before he had to find something to do that wasn’t gnawing his own leg off.

“I’m going to clean up,” he said, slipping out from under Tommy’s arm.

“You want us to pause it?” Maia asked around a yawn.

“You can fill me in later,” he said, and headed for the kitchen to get to work.

The leftovers went into various containers and then into the fridge to be turned into lunches and snacks for Maia. He unloaded the dishwasher and then loaded it back up again with the dirty dishes, and was just finishing wiping down the counters when Tommy called out, just loud enough for his voice to carry, “Come here.”

Buck wiped his hands on the towel he’d thrown over his shoulder. “You need something?”

“I'm good,” Tommy said, and Buck came to abrupt stop.

Maia had begun the movie curled up in the corner of the couch, her legs contorted under her in the way that only teenagers managed, but as the movie went on she had begun to list into Tommy’s side. That was where she was now, her face pressed into his shoulder, mouth open with the slightest whistle that could turn into a snore any moment.

Slowly, carefully, like he was worried of spooking her despite her being fast asleep, Tommy settled an arm around her shoulders. “She takes after you. Can’t even make it through an entire movie.”

“Well, she’s been working hard,” Buck said through a tight throat. “She’s really tired.”

He pulled out his phone. No one but him and Tommy were ever going to see this—they never shared a picture of Maia without first getting her permission—but he needed to remember this, his husband with their daughter. You were right, Bobby, Buck thought as he took four photos in rapid succession, I am okay.

“Evan,” Tommy said in that quiet way he only got when they were together. He held up his unoccupied arm. “Come here and fall asleep on this side. I need you to even me out.”

He saved the photos and shoved his phone back into the pocket. “Maybe I’ll stay awake this time,” he said, and went to join his family.

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