letsdosciencetoit

[letsdosciencetoit]

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Chapter 8

Summary: Tommy doesn't take the step to transfer to Harbor Station. Without a vacant spot at the 118, Buck is hired on to the 122 instead. How do things change without the influence of the 118 on Buck's early career, and how does Tommy handle remaining in the closet.

Chapter 8 Summary - Buck has a close call at work and engine troubles at a pick up basket ball game.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

On AO3: I'm Where the Spiders Go

Chapter 8 - Breath and Let Go- 4241 Words - Chapter rating: E.

A full shift rotation passes without any opportunity to bump into Tommy. Buck considers asking Sal for Tommy’s number, but he can’t think of a plausible reason to ask.

Buck feels restless coming onto his shift Friday morning.  Buck moves unimpeded through the station to his locker and puts his bag away.  He pauses, looking at the picture he’s taped up of a recent trip to Runyon Canyon Park.  He takes a deep breath in, four counts, tracing his eyes up the side of the photo.  Holds for four counts, then exhales for four counts, eyes scanning the edges of the image.  He finds it easier to do when he has something box shaped to look at.

Feeling calmer, he makes his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.  The unspent energy is still pulsing through his body, but it’s manageable now.

He hasn’t hooked up with anyone since Bonnie.  The opportunities have been there: grateful victims, women from the gym or coffee shop, the apps on his phone.  He’s been letting his eyes wander to men, too.  For the first time he’s letting himself appreciate more than the effort spent at the gym.  He sees a man with a beard and wonders what it would feel like against his lips, or scraping against his thighs.  He sees large hands and wonders what they would feel like against his hips.

Buck didn’t approach any of them, and he tells himself it’s because he’s too new to this identity. He doesn’t know the signals, or the etiquette.

In truth, every time Buck lets his mind wander the man’s features will morph into Tommy’s.

It feels pathetic, obsessing over a man he’s met once, but Buck can’t get Tommy out of his head.  He’s had a taste, and now he wants more.

Buck has done some research, of course.  Sitting in his small bedroom at his shared house, he’d watched videos on the small screen of his phone with the sound off, conscious of every creak of movement on the other side of his thin door.

It was enough to prove to himself he was definitely interested, but he was also left wondering how much of what he was watching was because it looked good on camera, and how much was actually enjoyable. 

“You want to help me with KP duties today, Buck?” Oscar asks, startling him so much he nearly spills the cup of coffee he’s holding.  Oscar claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder before turning to rummage through the fridge.  Head still in the fridge, Oscar asks, “What has you looking so lost in thought?”

Buck’s feels his cheeks heat, and he’s glad Oscar has his head in the fridge and can’t see.

He’s saved from a response by Connie and Francis coming into the kitchen. They both make a bee-line for the coffee maker, shouldering each other to be first to the pot.  Connie wins, filling up her mug, leaving Francis with the dregs.

“I’ll make another pot,” Buck offers helpfully, and puts his mind to the rhythm of the station’s tasks.

*** 9-1-1 ***

They receive the call for a small house fire at 8 pm, after they’ve wrapped up dinner.  The report comes in that an unattended fire in the back yard caught on the deck, but the family has already evacuated the home.  It should be a simple call, just to contain and extinguish.

They are not expecting the back of the home to be engulfed by the time they arrived.

“What’s going on here?” Captain Warren calls out to the family.

A middle-aged woman responds, distraught and clutching her children to her.  “My husband went back in! The fire started to spread and we hadn’t grabbed anything.  He went back to grab our papers.”

“Sal, Buck,” Captain Warren yelled out.  “One adult in the home, and fire is spreading fast – I need you to make entry and get him out, but be prepared to pull out if I give the word.”

Buck follow’s Sal’s lead, gears up, and heads in through the front door. The fire licks up the back wall of the building.  Sal and Buck move quickly through the front entrance, scanning for the man.

“Did the wife say where they keep their papers?” Sal says into the radio.

There’s a pause before the radio crackles to life with the captain’s voice.  “Wife says the safe is on the primary bedroom, Charlie side of the house, on the second floor.”

“We’re going to make our way up the stairs,” Sal advising.  “Fire’s getting pretty hot back there – do we have hoses on the blaze?”

“Water’s on, and flames are under control,” Gabriel calls out over the line. “We’ll have you guys sitting pretty momentarily.”

Buck and Sal make their way up the steps, quick and controlled.  They find the man laid out on the floor, unresponsive outside the bedroom. Buck makes quick work of hoisting the man over his shoulder to make a quick evac.

They make their way back towards the stairs when Buck hears the crack.  Looks up at the source of the noise, pausing for a moment.  Sal reaches forward and grabs him by the turnout to pull him forward.

Buck staggers at the sudden movement with the weight of the man over his shoulder when there’s a smash of wood and plaster where he’d been standing.  A piece of the ceiling had come down from the fire damage and the weight of the water used to extinguish it.

“Close call!” Sal calls out.  “Let’s get out of here.”

They exit the home, and Buck passes the unconscious man over to Oscar and Maria so they can get him hooked up with oxygen and onto a gurney.  The wife chooses to ride with him to the hospital while a neighbour offers to take are of the kids.

The fires is quickly put out, and Buck spares a moment of pity for the family who is going to have a lot of work to rebuild. 

They stow their gear as the police cordon off the area with yellow caution tape.  Buck catches Ari’s eye, and gives him a friendly nod before climbing into the truck with the rest of the crew.  The adrenaline is still coursing through him as he turns to look at Sal. 

“You saved my bacon back there,” Buck tells him gratefully.

Sal scoffed.  “Hardly.  At worst I saved you from a concussion or some bruises.  You just need to keep your head on a swivel next time.”

They make it back to the station, and don’t have any calls through the night.  Most of the crew is able to hit the bunks, but Buck finds his mind unable to calm his mind.  It’s easy to replay the call in his mind.  Could he have noticed the compromised ceiling sooner?  Was there a way to know if he should have stepped forward or backward after he heard the crack?

Sal finds him sitting at the kitchen table with a cold cup of coffee in his hands.

“The gears spinning all night for you kid?” Sal questions, making his way over to the coffee maker to poor himself a cup. 

“That obvious?” Buck muttered, self-deprecating.

“I can spell the smoke from here,” Sal shoots back with a laugh. He comes to sit across from the table from Buck.

Buck presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, and lets out a groan.  “I keep thinking about what I could have done differently.”

Sal shakes his head, and leans back comfortably in his chair, limbs spread wide and relaxed.  “That type of thinking is a trap.  The woulda-coulda.  This job isn’t risk free. We do what we can to mitigate the risk.”

Buck’s eyes shoot to Sal, feeling betrayed. “You told me to keep my head on a swivel.”

Expression turning soft, Sal drops his voice.  “You did a good job on the call. We got the victim out, and he’s going to recover and go home to his family.  I just can’t be seen going soft on a probie.”

“You were just talking shit?” Buck asks, words burbling out with laughter.

“You did good work, kid.  I know it’s easier said that done, but you need to stop second guessing yourself because of something I said.  Learn to trust your instincts on the job.”

“How do you manage that?” Genuinely curious, Buck wants to know.

Sal shrugs.  “Easier said than done.  Getting your mind off it helps.  Say, there’s a group of us that play basketball this afternoon.  Francis usually joins, and a bunch of guys from the other houses.  Go home after shift, get some rest, then meet us at the court.”

“I’m not really one for basketball,” Buck tells Sal.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Sal tells him, standing up to put his mug in the dishwasher.  “You don’t show, I’m putting you on latrine duty for the rest of the month.”

“Yes, Sir,” Buck agrees, knowing Sal doesn’t issue empty threats.  Part of him is please to have something to get him out of the house.

*** 9-1-1 ***

Buck goes home after shift, takes a nap, and gets in his jeep to drive to the outdoor court Sal had texted him the address to. The jeeps starts with just a grumble, and Buck counts himself lucky.

Buck arrives on time, and finds Sal and Francis already there, doing some dynamic warm ups.  He parks his jeep and walks towards the court, duffle slung over his shoulder.  He nearly trips on his own feet when he spots Tommy on the benches chatting with a shorter Asian man.

Mouth suddenly dry, struggles to recover so he can make his way over to the gathering group.

“That doesn’t bode well,” Sal calls out.  “I thought you said you played college football.”

Buck’s face flushes red, and he can’t think of a clever response to play off Sal’s observation.

Sal’s words catch Tommy’s attention. He meets Buck’s eyes and gives him a polite nod with a tight smile.  Buck’s stomach sinks, because it looks like Tommy is going to play it like they hardly know each other, and Buck isn’t sure he’s going to be able to respond in kind.  He’s been told he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“Howie,” Sal’s voice booms out, stopping Buck’s spiralling thoughts.  “This is our probie Evan Buckley. We all call him Buck.  Buck, you already know Tommy.  He and Howie work together at the 118.”

Chewing gum, Howie snaps a bubble.  “Good to meet you, Buck.  Everyone calls me Chimney.”

“Chimney?” Buck tests the name in his mouth.  “Is there a story behind that?”

 “Yes,” the other man responds with a smirk, “But not one you are going to get out of me without a lot of drinks.”

“Name the time and place,” Buck teases back.  Out of the corner of his eyes, Buck seems Tommy giving him an assessing look, but it passes before Buck can read anymore into it.

“In your dreams, hot shot,” Chimney retorts. “Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“I’ll hold you to it!”

Buck ends up on a team with Sal, Francis, Tommy and Chimney.  They hold their own against the other group that’s come out, and Buck isn’t as bad as he was worried.  He has to remind himself not to get physical with the other plays as he tries to box them out, so he’s not as intense as he would normally be at a sport. Still, Sal was right; it feels good to get out of the house and do something physical.  For ninety minutes his mind is focused on the game, the comradery, and not his racing thoughts.

He sits on the bench next to Tommy after they finish playing, shooting the shit, and cooling down.  If Buck lets his legs spread a little wider than absolutely necessary to brush against Tommy’s beside him, then that’s absolutely a coincidence.

The fact that Tommy doesn’t pull away obviously doesn’t have to mean anything either.

“Good to meet you, Buck!” Howie calls out once he’s done packing up. “Don’t forget to have Sal add you to the group chat for pick up. We always need more players.”

“Thanks, Chimeny!” Buck responds in kind.  “It was good to meet you, too.”

Taking Chimney’s prompt, Sal pulls his phone out and starts typing.  Buck gets the notification that he’s been added and tips his chin with a smile.  It feels good to be included.

He remains seated on the bench, stretching his calves and drinking his water, trying to delay going home to the share house. Sal, Francis, Tommy, and the other guys make the move to leave before Buck finally gets up, shoulders his duffle, and makes his way back to his car.

Just his luck, the jeep won’t fucking turn over when he goes to start it.  He tries a few times, jiggling the key and even pumping the gas, but the engine continues to click.  Buck rests his head on the steering wheel, frustration thrumming through him, when he hears a knock on the glass.

Looking up, Buck’s surprised to see Tommy standing at the window. Buck opens the door and steps out of the car.

“You need a jump?” Tommy asks.

Giving a shake of his head, Buck lets out a sharp exhale.  “Problems not the battery.  I just replaced it, but it isn’t holding the charge.”

“Want me to take a look?” Tommy offers.

“I’ve been keeping this car together with ducktape and will power for the last 5 years,” Buck admits. “I’m not sure what kind of help you can offer that I haven’t tried.”

Tommy smiles wryly.  “I restore old cars in my spare time.  I know my way around an engine.”

Buck feels his face flush again, embarrassing himself in front of Tommy for a second time.  He tries to cover it with bravado. “By all means, then. Take a look.”

He pops the hood, and Tommy makes quick work of poking around.  “You have a block of wood, or anything?”

“Not something I usually carry in my car,” Buck quips back.

“Tape measurer?” Tommy asks instead.

“Let me check,” Buck replies, going into the back of the truck to pull out the meager tool kit he keeps with him.

Tommy takes it from his hands and returns his head to under the hood.  Seconds later, he pops back up.  “Try starting it now.”

Stepping back from the car, Tommy watches Buck climb back into the jeep. Buck turns the ignition, and the car starts without issue.

“How did you fix it?” Buck asks, surprised.

Tommy shakes his head and beckons Buck over to look under the hood. “Just a temporary fix,” Tommy explains, pointing to the tape measure wedged between the battery and the housing.  “I think you have a faulty fuse box.  It will need to be replaced, but if you drive it slowly you can take the car to a mechanic to replace it.”

Pausing, Tommy looks Buck up and down, then offers with an even voice, “Or you can follow me to my place, and I can swap it out. I’m pretty sure I have the part on hand.”

“You’d do that for me, man?” Buck asks, and immediately regrets it with the way Tommy grimaces at being called “man.”

Tommy shakes whatever he’s feeling off and offers Buck a blankd smile. “I helped a buddy with an old Jeep Wrangler a few years back. I’m pretty sure I have the parts on hand, and it will be a quick fix.” 

“Are you sure I’m not going to interrupt your evening?” Buck feels compelled to ask, not wanting to inconvenience the older man. 

“I’ve got nothing else going on,” Tommy assures him. “Just follow my truck and we’ll get you sorted.

*** 9-1-1 ***

Tommy wasn’t lying when he told Evan it was a quick fix.  They’re fortunate that Tommy has the correct fuse block on hand. It’s just a matter of pulling the battery, replacing the fuse block, and replacing the battery.  He’s got the car back up and running within thirty minutes, and doesn’t even need the car lift.

“Good as new,” Tommy tells Evan, taking a moment to admire the way Evan looks leaning back against the work bench in his garage. 

At one point, Tommy had offered to let Evan stay inside while he worked, but Evan declined, staying in the garage and asking insightful questions about the work Tommy was doing to the jeep, as well as the current project car he was working on.  If Tommy caught Evan starting at his ass as he bent over to work, he wasn’t going to let it go to his head.

“Thanks, man.  I really owe you one for this,” Evan effuses. His eyes flick to Tommy’s mouth, drop lower for a teasing instant, before they snap back up.

A stronger man would accept the thanks, and say it was nothing. A better man would suggest a going out for a drink.  A braver man would ask Evan out on a date. Tommy is none of these things.

Tommy takes a step towards Evan, carefully watching Evan’s eyes and body language.  Leaning against the workbench, Evan is trying to appear relaxed and nonchalant, but his eyes spark with anticipation, and his breath hitches when Tommy takes another step closer.

This is the moment where Tommy would normally stop playing gay chicken.  He’d back off, play it off as a joke.  But he’s already kissed Evan. He already knows Evan was interested there, and he’s clearly still interested now.

In the privacy of the garage, with Evan’s jeep safety down off the lift, Tommy takes another step forward, putting him undeniably in Evan’s personal space.  Pausing for a moment, a wordless check in, Tommy waits for Buck’s minute nod before he leans in a captures Evan’s lips with his own. 

This time, Evan responds immediately.  His lips part, letting Tommy in. One of his hands slides into Tommy’s hair, blunt fingernails scratching against his scalp. Evan’s other hand grab onto Tommy’s shirt, bunching the fabric at his hip.

Tommy lets himself get lost in the kiss, in the comfort of his own space, desire pooling in his belly.  He entertains the idea of dragging Evan to his bedroom, to take things further.  He presses himself closer to Evan, pinning the other man against the work bench, feeling clear evidence of Evan’s arousal against his hip. He grinds his own erection against Evan in response.

Evan lets out a gasp into his mouth, pulling back as his hand grips tighter at Tommy’s hip.  Evan pulls back before attacking Tommy’s neck with biting kisses.  Groaning, Tommy tilts his head to the side, giving Evan better access. His mind is getting hazy, focused on chasing the pleasure.  Evan’s hand in his hair starts to guide his head, taking the lead, and something in Tommy snaps.

He can’t give up control. 

Tommy grabs Evan by the shoulders and spins them around. He gives Evan another bruising kiss, then takes advantage of Evan being unbalanced and pushes the other man to his knees. 

Evan drops easily, settling on his heels, hands resting loosely on Tommy’s hips.  Evan looked up at Tommy expectantly.

“Fuck,” Tommy exhales, running a hand long Evan’s jaw, feeling Evan lean into the touch.  “You are fucking perfect.”

He continues to stroke Buck’s cheek, and with his free hand pushes his sweats and boxes down over his ass, letting his cock spring free. Evan licks his lips, and lets out a low keening noise.

“You look so fucking good on your knees, practically begging for it,” Tommy points out, grabbing the base of his cock and guiding the head to lightly drag across Evan’s other cheek.  Evan parts his lips, and licks them again.  He turns his head just enough to let his lips brush against the head of Tommy’s erection.

The movement is tentative, and gentle, at odds with what Tommy is planning on doing.  He checks in one last time.  “I’m going to fuck your face now.  I’m going to ruin your pretty mouth.”

Evan looks up at him through dark lashes, eyes bright with anticipation, and gives him another clear nod.

Tommy slides one hand into Evan’s hair, fingers grabbing at the loose curls on Evan’s head.  He uses his other hand to guide the head of his cock past Evan’s parted lips and into the wet heat of his mouth.

Keeping his hips still, he waits to see what Evan will do, hands resting gently in Evan’s hair.

Even offers a few tentative licks before sealing his lips and giving some suction.  He drops one hand to his knee, and uses the other one to loosely wrap around the base of Tommy’s length. It feels so good, but it’s not nearly enough.

Tightening his grip on the back of Evan’s head, Tommy applies gentle pressure.  Evan doesn’t offer any resistance, just lets Tommy guide him down on his length.  Evan lets out a humming moan around his cock, and Tommy takes in how Evan’s hips are offering little aborted thrusts from his kneeling position.

Emboldened by how turned on Evan appears to be, Tommy pushes his own hips forward, thrusting his cock further into Evan’s mouth.  Evan gags in response, wet and sputtering, head pushing back against Tommy’s hand instinctively. 

Tommy lets go immediately, pulling his hips back to give Evan room to breathe.  He expects Evan to back off, or stand up, but instead the other man lets out a whine and he gabs at Tommy’s hips to keep him from pulling away further.

He lets Evan take his length back in is mouth, push down, and gag once more.  Evan’s mouth is slick with spit, and his eyes are welling with unshed tears. He does it again, and Tommy takes note of the way Evan’s erection is still tenting his loose pants, leaving a damp mark of precum on the fabric.

“Fuck, kid,” Tommy groans.  “You want me to choke you with my cock.”

He wraps his hands back around Evan’s head and offers another shallow thrust, impossibly hard as Evan gags and moans around his length.

Evan drops his hands back down to his lap. His eyes are closed, and he just takes what Tommy has to give him.   

“You’re doing so well,” Tommy murmurs, eyes locked on where his cock moves in and out of Evan’s mouth.  “You look so good on your knees, taking it so well.  So fucking pretty.”

Evan let out a keening moan, eyes flicking up to meet Tommy’s.  His pupils are blown; lashes dotted with unshed tears.  It’s so much better than he could have ever imagined.  The tight band of desire that’s coiled through his belly is about ready to snap.

“I’m going to come,” Tommy tells him, voice wrecked, as he moves to pull away.

Evan comes off just long enough to smirk and say gravely, “That’s kind of the point,” before sealing his lips back around Tommy’s cock and taking as much into his mouth as he can. Tommy feels the head of his cock run along Evan’s soft palate, cutting off his air supply.  Evan’s eyes flutter closed again, like he’s found nirvana, and it’s over.

Hips stuttering, Tommy spills his release into Evan’s mouth, and the kid fucking swallows every drop, no hesitation. Evan swallows it all, and waits until Tommy’s length starts to soften before pulling off and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Tommy’s legs don’t want to hold him upright anymore.  He sinks to his knees next to Evan, leans over, and kissed his swollen lips, tasting himself on Evan’s tongue.  He reaches across to take care of Evan, but the other man weakly bats his hands away.

Looking at Evan’s lap, he sees the evidence of Evan’s own orgasm seeping through his hands, a rapidly cooling wet spot.

“You came from that?” Tommy asked incredulously.

Evan looks up at him through his lashes, sheepish smile on his face.  “I didn’t really think that was a possibility.”

Surging forward, Tommy kisses Evan again. He pulls back, takes in Evan’s puffy lips and red rimmed eyes, and thinks of how beautiful Evan looks right now.

“You’re going to ruin me,” Tommy admits, as much to himself as to Evan.

“But what a way to go,” Evan says with a grin.  There’s a confidence in his tone, but it’s hiding a nervous energy.  Evan fiddles with the hem of his shirt from where he’s sitting, clearly thinking something over.  He hesitates visibly for a moment, before asking timidly, “Can we do this again?”

“Well, I won’t be able to go again now,” Tommy says wryly, startling a genuine laugh from Evan.

“Maybe not right now, then,” Evan admits, smiling.  “But another time?”

The hope in Evan’s voice almost breaks his heart, because Tommy knows he can’t give Evan what he deserves.  It doesn’t stop Tommy from wanting to take what he can.

“Another time,” Tommy agrees, but feels compelled to lay down the ground rules.  “But I’m not out.  This is just sex.”

An inscrutable expression passes over Evan’s face, but it’s replaced in an instant by a cocky grin.  “I can do just sex.”

Tag List: @girlwonder-writes, @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66, @disaster-j - - drop me a comment if you want to be added

[letsdosciencetoit]

Sal was meant to be a plot point; a convenient connection for my OTP. Why am I suddenly imagining ways my story can become OT3? Man sure has a lot to say.

The problem with writing Sal is, that even if you dont intend to write him into the story? he will appear, and he will be the star of the show.

[letsdosciencetoit]

Might have just gotten some ideas...

give me jealous tommy when they finally get back together - i need to see him finally show his possessive side now that he’s all in and no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop

[letsdosciencetoit]

Why yes, I did need this in my life.

(fanmix) "Go Figure !!! - Skating Jams for Future Fire Captains"

Tracklist:

1 "Give It All You Got” -Chuck Mangione 2 “Eye of the Tiger” -Survivor 3 “Nessun Dorma” from Turandot 4 “Don’t Bring Me Down” -ELO 5 “Take My Breath Away” -Berlin 6 “September” -Earth, Wind & Fire 7 “Dance of the Knights” Prokofiev 8 “Endless Love” -Lionel Ritchie, Diana Ross 9 “Mr. Blue Sky” -ELO 10 “How Deep is Your Love” -Bee Gees 11 “Jazz Waltz No. 2” Shostakovich 12 “Goodbye Stranger” -Supertramp 13 “You’re the Inspiration” -Chicago 14 “Boléro” Ravel 15 “Hungry Heart” -Bruce Springsteen 16 “Eye in the Sky” -The Alan Parsons Project

Don't tell me that a figure-skating Bobby Nash, who would have been about 12 in 1980, wouldn't have a Dorothy Hamill poster !!! Canon. To me.

-created for the @911hiatuspositivity bingo square "Figure Skating" Playlist and Notes under cut!

So these aren't necessarily songs I thought Bobby would skate to, just songs that might feature in a routine, or that he might like to practice or pump up with. I based this playlist most strongly on when Bobby would have been competing (13-19, so 81-87), so there are songs from the late 70s to about 86. Also tried to base it on what might have been his taste, so that's why there are two ELO songs, plus the Springsteen, and maybe he'd like Supertramp and The Alan Parsons Project too? Look. I put WAY too much thought into this.

[letsdosciencetoit]

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Chapter 7

Summary: Tommy doesn't take the step to transfer to Harbor Station. Without a vacant spot at the 118, Buck is hired on to the 122 instead. How do things change without the influence of the 118 on Buck's early career, and how does Tommy handle remaining in the closet.

Chapter 7 Summary - Tommy thinks about his first meeting with Buck, and responds to a call at the state fair. Buck attends his first trivia night.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

On AO3: I'm Where the Spiders Go

Chapter 7 - The Fear in Hiding - 4119 Words - Chapter rating: E.

Tommy has spent the majority of his adult life ignoring his desires. It’s not much of a stretch for him to suppress the memories of Saturday night.

He goes about his regular routine for the remainder of his days off. He tinkers with the car he’s fixing up, pulls weeds in his back yard, and grills chicken breast on the barbeque so he has something quick to eat for the rest of the week. Losing himself in the mundane nature of the chores makes it easy to pretend like his sleep isn’t plagued by visions of full lips and mirthful blue eyes.

In the dark of his room, at the end of his day, he allows himself a moment of weakness and indulges. Stroking himself in a loose grip, he imagines running his hands through slicked back hair and messing it up.

With tighter fingers, Tommy pictures pushing that head down, and feeling those lips wrap around his hard length. His mind wanders to the various ways he could use that smart mouth, or the way those blue eyes would look up at him through dark lashes.

He can’t help his hips thrusting up into his fist, or the little thrill of anticipate licking up his spine from the imagine of twining his fingers in Evan’s hair and pushing his head down so he could fuck into that tempting mouth. It feels forbidden, but Tommy wants to see the tears well up and cling to those lashes as Evan struggles to swallow Tommy down.

Shame pools in his belly for fantasizing about a colleague without their knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from spilling his release into his hand.

He cleans himself up before getting back into bed, and goes back to decidedly not thinking about one Evan Buckley.

*** 9-1-1 ***

“You seem distracted,” Chimney points out as they work through a training drill.

Tommy could do the drills on muscle memory alone at this point, so he’s not sure what tipped his colleague off, but he definitely doesn’t feel as focused as he usually would. Breath heavy with exertion, Tommy replies, “It’s nothing.”

He feels Chimney’s eyes on him, studying him. The smaller man has his arms crossed over his chest, and Tommy can tell without looking at him that Chimney is wearing a faint smirk. Tommy finishes racking the hose, and shoots a glare at Chimney right as the man pops a bubble in his gum with a loud snap.

They look eyes and hold each other’s stare. Chimney breaks first, finally asking, “You meet someone this weekend?”

Tommy doesn’t let himself freeze at Chimney’s words, only years of honing his response allowing him to let the question roll of his back. Without hesitation, he shakes his head. “I just went out with Sal and his crew on Saturday, then stayed in and did house work.

Chimney scoffs at Sal’s name. “You thinking of jumping ship?”

“That’s rich, coming from Mr. ‘I’ve got a hot date,’” Tommy snarks, rolling his eyes. “You and Hen both had better things to do on Saturday. If figured going out with Sal beat hanging out at home by myself.”

“Well, if those were your options, I guess I’ll allow it,” Chimney said, faux-magnanimously. “Still, you should consider meeting someone. You’ve been single for a while now, right? You need to get back on the horse.”

Tommy hums in response, a non-answer, and they move onto the next task.

*** 9-1-1 ***

The ladder truck pulled up to the state fair, and the passengers upside down are clearly visible. Tommy is already harnessed up, ready to climb the ladder as it extends.

“Tommy,” Bobby instructs. “We’ve come in at the wrong angle. I need you to climb up there, harness him in and hang tight while we move the truck.”

“Sure thing, cap,” Tommy responded, already starting the climb.

It’s hard work, and he’s panting by the time he gets to the peak where the passengers are screaming. They catch sight of him on the tracks, and a woman screams, “Help us!”

“LAFD is here to get you down from here,” Tommy tells them steadily, despite the exertion. “I need you all to focus on taking deep breaths and staying still in your seats. We’re bringing the truck around so the ladder can reach the cars, and we’ll get you down safely. We just need you to hang tight.”

Most of the passengers seem to take his words to heart, but the man hanging from the cart is escalating, short panicked sobs coming from him.

“Where’s Chad?” the man asked, panicking. “What happened to Chad?”

Tommy paused his movement on the track long enough to radio to Bobby for an update on the friend. Tommy already knows what a fall from this height at the speeds they would have been traveling would have done to the man.

“I’m Tommy,” he says to the man hanging there. “My colleagues are going to be helping your friend Chad. I’m going to help get you down from here. What’s your name?”

“Devon,” the man answered, voice trembling.

“Okay Devon. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but I’m going to be up here with you until we get you safe on the ground. Just focus on my instructions.”

Devon looks at him with wide eyes, pupils blown wide with adrenalin. He’s nearly shaking in panic; a terrible reaction given how he’s hanging on. “What happened to Chad? Oh my God! He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Look at me, Devon,” Tommy instructed in a firm, steady voice. “Focus on me. My team is with Chad right now.”

Tommy looks down to see Chimney and Hen lifting the body onto a gurney. Chimney gives a thumbs up, playing the part, so Tommy and confidently say to Devon, “You friend is being loaded onto the ambulance now. He’s in good hands.”

This seems to settle Devon a little, as Tommy works his way closer to where Devon is hanging from the car. Tommy clips himself securely to the track, and starts to get the strap ready.

“Everyone is doing well here,” he says to the group. “Just keep breathing like that, and we’ll get everyone down safely.”

Tommy braces himself on the track and focuses on Devon. “Devon, you’re doing a good job. Just focus on me. I’m going to hand you this strap. I need you to reach your arm up and slide it through the loop.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees the film crew show up. He lets out a quiet “shit” under his breath when he sees it’s caught Devon’s attention, too, distracting him from the strap.

“It’s going to be everywhere,” Devon whimpers with a trembling voice. “It’s going to be all over the place.”

“Don’t look down, Devon,” Tommy orders, voice sharper to draw Devon’s attention back to him. It works, but Tommy clocks the sheen on his skin and the pallor in the other man’s face. The panic is starting to set in, and Tommy knows Devon is going to make a rash decision if they don’t get him strapped in soon. “Focus on me. Reach your arm up, and slide it through the loop.”

Devon looks like he’s going to do it, but he hesitates a moment before jerking the arm back. “Can you tell them to stop recording? I don’t want them to see me like this!”

“Devon, focus on my voice. Concentrate on me,” Tommy instructs him, working on getting into a better position to place the strap himself. He’s going to have to descend from the track, and he’s mentally calculating the logistics of that and getting back up to assist once the ladder is in place. He’s distracted when he tells Devon, “Just slide your arm through the loop, and we can figure out the rest once you’re safe.”

Devon whimpers again, and starts for the strap, but once again pulls short before his weight shifts.

“Devon,” Tommy calls, stretching his arm out to bring the loop closer to the other man. “I need you to trust me. Reach your hand out to mine and we can slide the loop over.”

“I can’t!” Devon cries out. He looks down at the news crew and people on the ground and squeezes his eyes shut. Clenching his grip around the cart, his whole-body trembles.

Tommy already knows Devon isn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. “Just reach for my hand, Devon. I will not let you fall.”

“I can’t,” Devon says again, softer this time. He opens his eyes, and Tommy sees the moment Devon decides to let go. There’s nothing Tommy can do from his position to stop it. Tommy looks away as Devon falls, ignoring the cries from the other passengers for a moment to mourn the needless loss. He imagines he can hear the impact even from this height.

Tommy takes a deep steadying breath, and moves on to address the other passengers. “I need you guys to keep your eyes on me and focus on my voice. The ladder is coming into position. I’m going to put the safety strap on you one at a time, get you out of your cart, and hand you over to my colleague to get you down the ladder. Just keep breathing, and hang tight. Just listen to my voice, and we’ll get you down soon.”

*** 9-1-1 ***

They get the remaining passengers off the tracks, and they���re packing up when Tommy is cornered by a news reporter. He catches Bobby’s eye at the back of the truck and the captain just shrugs and gives him a sheepish grin.

“Marcy Henderson, News 8 – Can you tell me what happened up there?” the reporter asks him without preamble.

Tommy’s been a firefighter long enough to know he needs to keep this short and to the point. You can’t let any emotions out, or the news cycle will latch on, chew you up and spit you out. He keeps his expression neutral. “We scaled the coaster, but were unable to safely secure the first passenger. Fortunately, with team work and proper communication we were able to keep the remaining passengers calm and get them safely to ground.”

He didn’t give the reporter the chance to ask any follow up questions. He climbed back onto the truck to Chimney and Hen’s quiet laughter. It felt out of place following the deaths, but Tommy couldn’t help himself from laughing to.

“That was a real non-answer,” Chimney pointed out.

“You ever considered running for politics?” Hen asked, whole body shaking with mirth. Tommy tries to keep a straight face, but Bobby looks back at them, grinning, and it sets them all off, laughter ringing through the truck as it pulls away.

*** 9-1-1 ***

“What are you doing tonight?” Tommy hears Chimney asking Hen as he finishes getting changed at the end of their shift. “Tatiana is having a girl’s night, and I don’t want to go home to an empty apartment.”

“Denny’s at a friend’s working on their science project and having a sleep over, and Karen is working late, so I’m meeting up with my trivia group.” Hen responds, double checking she has everything packed in her duffle bag to head out.

Tommy has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he hears Hen mention her plans. It would be too much of a coincidence that she’s going to trivia the same night he’s been invited out. He keeps his face neutral as he watches the conversation play out. “You should invite Tommy and I!” Chimney decides, roping Tommy into his plans. “We’re both good with movies, and I’ve got pop culture!”

Hen shakes her heads, and lets out a low chuckle. “I’m not really sure this would be your scene, guys. It’s a group of queer first responders that meets up every Thursday at The Armory.”

Swallowing around the feeling of his heart in his throat, Tommy tries to piece together if he’d done anything around Maria to give himself away to warrant an invite to her Trivia night. He’d been more forward with Evan at the bar on Saturday than he normally would have been, but nothing overt, and certainly nothing when the rest of the crew was present. It takes him a beat to remember that Maria hadn’t invited him at all. It was Evan who’d extended the invite when he’d been asked.

Chimney is still talking, but Hen shoots Tommy a look at the complicated expression that passes over Tommy’s face. She doesn’t say anything as Chimney continues. “We can be cool at queer trivia.”

Hen turns her attention back to Chimney. “As much as I appreciate where you’re coming from, Chim, this is a queer event, not a GSA meeting. Next time they organize a drag brunch you can tag along, but maybe tonight you can Tommy can hit up one of those karaoke bars you love.”

*** 9-1-1 ***

The Armory blends into the other shops and restaurants on the street, but there’s a prominent rainbow flag in the window, and the sign outside advertises “Trivia with cash prizes!” Buck drives past it twice before he’s able to find street parking for his jeep.

The jeep is starting to give him more trouble, but so far he hasn’t been able to troubleshoot the repair on his own. He’s going to have to find a mechanic to bring it to on his next stretch off, but for now it’s getting him from point A to point B, albeit with a bit of grinding.

Buck’s only a few minutes late when he finally walks into the bar. He spots Maria first, before he takes in the rest of the establishment. It’s got pretty typical décor, nothing of any real note. Wooden floors and furniture, photos of celebrities and what he assumes are movie stills on the walls. It takes him a few minutes to realize that most of the couples present are same-sex, and the celebrities on the wall includes ones that Buck recognizes as queer.

It's a little too on the nose, given his last week, but Buck shrugs it off and approaches the table.

“Buck!” Maria calls out to him with a wave. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it.”

Shrugging, Buck offers a smile back. “Car trouble, but I’m here now.”

Buck takes in the group of unfamiliar faces. Tommy isn’t among them, and Buck ignores the disappointment that settles with that realization.

“Alrighty, everyone,” Maria calls out, getting the table’s attention. “This is Buck, our probie at the 122. He’s going to be our go to guy for general knowledge. Buck, this is the rest of the Rainbow Response Team.”

The rest of the group introduces themselves. He tries to remember Casey from the 115, Hen (“do not call me Henrietta”) from the 118, Lin and Jeffery from the 221, Rebecca from dispatch, and Ari with the LAPD. Some of the faces are looking at him expectantly, but most of the team is already going back to their conversations.

“You look a little lost, Buck,” Maria called out, grin on her face and drink in her hand.

Buck nodded sheepishly. “When you invited me to trivia I didn’t realize it would be… Queer trivia?”

Buck’s tone lilted upwards at the end, turning it into a question, his confusion clearly evident to the table.

“Is there a problem with that?” Lin asked, squaring his shoulders and bristling in Buck’s direction.

Putting his hands up defensively, Buck sinks into his seat in an effort to make himself appear less intimidating. “No! Not at all. I’m an ally! I put a pride flag up on my Instagram every June.”

Buck doesn’t need the narrowing eyes of the people at the table to tell him he’s making an ass of himself. He wants to take back his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Ally my ass,” Maria says, laughing and diffusing the tension. “You’re telling me you weren’t all over our boy Thomas the other night? I thought you were going to take Gab out at the knees when he interrupted the two of you.”

“What! No I wasn’t,” Buck replies, not sure why he’s defending himself so vehemently. His head spins as he reflects on last Saturday night with Maria’s perspective in mind.

He’d thought Sal’s friend was cool, so of course he’d wanted to talk to him. Appreciating Tommy’s physique was just professional curiosity. Tommy was the sort of cool and collected that Buck could only aspire to be. The fact that it was all wrapped up in an aesthetically pleasing package was just incidental.

Except, the way his mind had stopped spinning when Tommy kissed him, and the way he’s been subtly comparing everything else to the shape of Tommy, or the way Tommy would make him feel…

“I need to leave now,” Buck says, feeling the blood drain from his face at the revelation. Turning on his heel, Buck walks quickly back out of the bar, deftly navigating through the crowd that’s starting to gather. He’s not quick enough to avoid hearing Maria call out, “Buck wait!” or Hen’s accusatory “Maria, did you just out your colleague?” but he ignores them both.

Buck gets out of the bar, turns left, and immediately bends over and rests his hands on his knees, breath rapid and light headed. His mind is spinning, reevaluating so many past encounters under new light. Sure, Tommy had kissed him, and he hadn’t hated it, but it didn’t have to mean anything on Buck’s part. Following Connor to LA from Peru, wanting to spend all his time with Alex Metcalf in high school, or admiring Sal’s shoulders at the fire station suddenly took on new meaning.

A lot of things are making a lot more sense in his mind, and he feels like such an idiot.

He focuses his attention on his breath, feeling the cool air pass through his sinuses and down his throat as his lungs expand. He focuses on the feeling for several deep inhales until his mind stops racing. He straightens his spine, stretching his back as he stands up.

“You okay,” a gentle voice comes from behind him. Buck turns to see Casey, the firefighter from the 115 has followed him outside. He’s standing a respectful distance away, posture open and unassuming. It’s how Buck would have approached a skittish horse.

Shaking his head to himself, Buck still answers with, “I’m fine. Just reevaluating my entire adult life.”

A small laugh escapes Casey, like it was startled out of him. “Not the typical reaction I would expect from someone who was unwillingly outed.”

“If I’m being completely honest,” Buck begins with a sheepish grin, “I didn’t realize until about five minutes ago there was anything to be outed.”

“Oof,” Casey lets out with a huff of air. “That is rough.”

“What kind of guy doesn’t realize they’re attracted to men until they’re twenty-six?” Buck half whined in embarrassment.

“I mean a lot of people don’t come out until later in life,” Casey offers as a platitude.

Buck scoffs, looking down at the ground. “Were you one of them?”

Casey lets out another startled laugh. “Not me. I knew I was gay when I was seven. It made life exciting as a child. But my husband wasn’t out until his thirties. Comp Het is a powerful drug, and it can be pretty insidious.”

Buck keeps looking down, and mouths the words ‘comp het,’ to himself. It’s not something he’s heard before, but he’s going to have to look into it.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Casey offered. “Do you want me pass on your regards to the group, or do you want to come back in and try to help us win the grand prize?”

“I’m not really sure I fit in here,” Buck admits. “I don’t even know where I fit on the whole letter spectrum.”

“You don’t need to label yourself. You can just be you,” Casey points out. “And Maria told us you are someone that has a very interesting brain that is going to win us a lot of money.”

“I did promise her I would try to help you guys beat the librarians,” Buck agrees, smiling and feeling a little more at ease. He doesn’t have to figure everything out tonight. “It would be a shame to have driven out here for nothing.”

Buck follow’s Casey back into the bar. He catches Maria and Hen giving him concerned looks, but it’s short lived and the rest of the group treats him like nothings happened.

They don’t end up winning the night. They come in second to The Shushes by one point, having missed the answer on a couple of the movie themed questions. They still win enough money to cover a round of drinks for the table, and Buck’s cheeks hurt from smiling by the end of the evening.

Buck exchanges numbers with Casey before he leaves, in case he wants a safe person to chat. He promises the group he’ll come out again as shifts allow, and heads out the door.

Starting towards his jeep, Buck stops short when he feels slim fingers wrap around his wrist. He turns to see Maria looking up at him, contrite expression on her face.

“I am really sorry for outing you like that to the group,” Maria begins, body nearly vibrating. “I can’t say anything to excuse what I did. I just didn’t think, and I’m really sorry that I took away the opportunity to share your truth when you were ready.”

By the time she’s done, eye eyes are wet with unshed tears, and Buck can tell she’s genuinely upset by what she did.

He takes a half step back from her, and opens his arms. “Can I give you a hug?”

A myriad of emotions flicker across her face, finally settling into surprise. “You want to give me a hug? After what just happened?”

“I’m having a quarter-life crisis, and you look like you’re about ready to beat yourself up,” Buck said, but only half jokingly. “I figured a hug would probably make both of us feel better.”

Maria huffs out a wet laugh, but steps into his arms. He folds her into his arms, and it’s warm, and comforting. It doesn’t last long, but Buck is reminded wistfully of how his sister could make him feel safe when nothing made sense.

They pull apart, and Buck speaks before he has to worry about an awkward silence or more apologies. “Did you know hugs have actually been shown to boost the immune system?”

Letting out another small laugh, Maria shakes her head. “Don’t ever change, Buck.”

“Why mess with perfection?” Buck grins back.

Maria laughed louder. Then her expression turned more serious and put a hand on his arm. “I won’t mention anything to the rest of the crew. You can tell them yourself, or not, in your own time.”

“I’m not really sure what I would be telling them, anyway,” Buck admits, “but thank you.”

Maria offers a minute nod. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“Always,” Buck answers in earnest.

“I know Tommy is a good-looking man, but you’re barking up the wrong tree with him,” Maria tells him with a low voice. “That guy is textbook straight. He just got out of a long-term relationship with a woman up until a year ago. I’m pretty sure they were engaged, but she broke it off.” It takes everything in him to not react in disbelief to Maria’s words. Immediately, his mind is flooded by the feel of Tommy’s lips on his, and the way Tommy held his chin and looked him in the eyes when he said “Not a word about this to anyone.”

Instead, Buck gives Maria another smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt with a misplaced crush.” Maria doesn’t seem to notice the change in mood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Buck.”

They part ways, and Buck makes it back to the jeep. It struggles to turn over on the first two attempts. He lets out a silent prayer, tries a third time, and gets the engine to engage. It gets him home in time to try and get seven hours of sleep before his next shift.

He does not get the full seven hours, though. Tommy’s words continue to run through his mind. “Not a word about this.”

Tommy doesn’t want anyone to know about the kiss. He never said they couldn’t try more.

Chapter 8

Tag List: @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66, @disaster-j - - drop me a comment if you want to be added

[letsdosciencetoit]

I've been super focused on "I'm Where the Spiders Go," but I've been noodling about with the prequel and side bits to "Sun In the Afternoon." So - my contribution to BuckTommy EngagementPalooza is a snippet of their engagement:

Everything All At Once

Tommy is exhausted when he finally gets the all clear from the hospital to leave. He’s fine; no concussion, just several bruises from their new probie letting go of the of the fully charged hose line.

Their captain had been ripping the probie a new one while they wrapped up the scene and Lucy graciously offered to take him to the emerge to get checked out.

He’s safe to go home, but his truck is at the station, and he’s too tired to drive safely anyway. Knowing Lucy lives in the opposite direction, he calls Gina to see if she’s free to come pick him up. Her kids should be in school, and she usually doesn’t have a lot of clients at 9am.

Gina picks up on the first ring.

“Is Sal okay,” she asks in lieu of greeting.

“Sal’s fine, I just need a ride home,” Tommy answers, straight to the point, voice heavy with fatigue.  He’s never been married, but he can understand better the constant underlying worry.  He’d felt it too whenever one of Evan’s friends called him while Evan was on shift.  He doesn’t have the right to worry anymore, but he understands Gina l little better.

“You sound like shit,” Gina pointed out, blunt, but voice gentle.  “Are you at First Pres?”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, taking a seat on one of the benches outside.  His eyes are drooping, and he’s pretty sure he could fall asleep sitting upright given half a chance.

“Give me forty minutes,” Gina tells him, agreeing to the favour.  “I just need to make a quick stop first.”

“Mhm,” is all Tommy says in response. The phone call disconnects, and he leans back on the bench and closes his eyes.  The sun feels good on his face.

He’s startled awake by the light beeps of a car pulling up to the curb.  It could have been forty minutes, or four hours, but Gina’s light blue sedan is parked next to the curb.

Tommy throws his bag in the popped trunk and climbs into the front seat without looking at the driver’s side.  He focuses on adjusting the seat to fit his large frame, and getting his seatbelt on.  Gina has the habit of driving like a maniac, and he wants to minimize his damage risk.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Tommy tells her, leaning back again in the seat with his eyes closed.

“You’re welcome,” comes the answer, but the voice is decidedly deeper than Gina’s.

Eyes flying open, Tommy turns and stares at Evan, sitting in the driver’s seat of Gina’s car like he belongs there.  His brown curls are a mess on his head, pressed flat in places by their gear, telling him that Evan is also coming off shift and hasn’t had a time shower.

“What are you doing in Gina’s car?” Tommy asks, wondering if he’d maybe hit his head harder than the doctor’s thought.

“Sal’s wife mentioned you needed a ride, so I offered,” Evan replies, pulling away from the curb.  The doors lock automatically once the car is in motion.

“In Gina’s car?” Tommy points out, incredulously.

“They figured we had some things we needed to discuss,” Buck says with a shrug, eyes straight on the road.

“Pretty sure we’ve said more than we should by this point,” Tommy scoffs under his breath.

“Just close your eyes and rest, Tommy,” Evan instructs. “I’ll make sure you get where you need to go.”

Evan knows where his house is, and Tommy is too tired to worry about the strange situation any more.  Tommy closes his eyes, and within minutes is lulled to sleep by the motion of the car.

***

When he wakes up, it could be forty minutes, or four hours alter, the car is still in motion, and they are no longer in the city.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Buck greets him with a soft smile.

“Where the hell are we?”

“We need to talk,” Buck points out, still smiling.  “I wanted to make sure we went somewhere you couldn’t just run away when it got uncomfortable.”

“You’re taking me here against my will,” Tommy pointed out, but he feels a fondness in his chest, because they really do need to talk.

“Yep,” Buck agrees, smile getting wider.

“You’re kidnapping me,” Tommy states.

“I am,” Buck agrees.

Tommy smiles back, hope burbling up.  As far as romantic gestures go, this is a little unorthodox, but Tommy is excited to see where it goes.

Looks like it's time to crank up another positivity event.

My vote is Bucktommy EngagementPalooza.

[letsdosciencetoit]

911 but every time tommy kinard is on screen sexyback plays

crossposted on tiktok insta

[letsdosciencetoit]

I'm Where The Spiders Go - Chapter 6

Summary: Tommy doesn't take the step to transfer to Harbor Station. Without a vacant spot at the 118, Buck is hired on to the 122 instead. How do things change without the influence of the 118 on Buck's early career, and how does Tommy handle remaining in the closet.

Chapter 6 Summary - Buck struggles to wrap his mind around his kiss with Tommy, and meets some new faces.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

On AO3: I'm Where the Spiders Go

Chapter 5 - The Edge of Uncertainty - 3466 Words - Chapter rating: E.

Additional Warnings: This chapter does include an explicit depiction of oral sex between Buck and a one-off female character. I've updated the tags to reflect the chapter. If that's not your jam, you can skip from the line "Bonnie doesn’t even wait" and ends with "Take what you want, then." I'll include more detailed warnings/intentions for the scene at the end of the post.

Chapter 6

Buck spends the remainder of his four days off on the move.

The second day off he keeps out of the house as best he can.  He surfs, he bikes, he wanders the local farmers market, and at the end of it he stumbles back into the house after dusk and is able to fall asleep for a full ten hours out of sheer exhaustion the second night. 

The third day is a Monday, and the house is thankfully quiet. His roommates are either at class or at work, and he has the house to himself.  Buck decides to tackle cleaning the common areas. He throws on an episode of the Folklore Podcast about fairy lore in the witch trials from the 16th and 17th century, and gets to work emptying the fridge.

He’s managed to get through four episodes of the podcast while he purges and scrubs every inch of the kitchen.  The floor is no longer tacky, and the mysterious smells from the fridge has been eliminated.

Tackling the living room next, Buck tosses the old pizza boxes, and fishes the empty beer cans from behind the couch.  He vacuums and dust, and has time to put his feet up on the couch before his roommates start coming home.  He starts to scroll on his phone when he hears keys in the door.

 Kameron and Connor are the first to arrive back, their laughter filling the house as they toss their things down in the front entrance.

Connor spots him on the couch, and waves in greeting. “Oh, hey man! You cleaned!”

Following after her boyfriend, Kameron looks around the room in awe. “You didn’t have to do that”

Buck shrugs, sinking further into the couch.  “It didn’t seem like anyone else was going to, and I wanted to keep busy.”

Kameron looks at him with concern. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Of all the people in the house, Kameron would probably be the most understanding.  She joined him in putting a pride flag up on her Instagram page in June, and has always been very outspoken with the rest of the guys when they’ve crossed the line.

But he doesn’t know what to make of the kiss from the other night; doesn’t really know what that makes him, so he keeps his mouth shut, and shakes his head.

“We were going to order Thai for dinner and watch The Walking Dead. Want me to add your regular to the order so you can join us?” Connor offers, and Buck takes what feels like a lifeline.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

*** 9-1-1 ***

Buck is able to sleep again that night, and he feels ready to forget about the night at the bar as a one off.  No use in worrying about something that’s unlikely to happen again.  He wakes up on his last day off ready to buy groceries and prep food for the rest of the week, but when he comes downstairs the kitchen is once again trashed.

The sink is filled with dirty dishes, and the used blender sits on the counter, full of some awful smelling concoction. Whoever had used it clearly hadn’t remembered to put the lid on, because there’s green liquid on the cabinets and ceiling. 

Taking a deep breath, Buck closes his eyes and focuses on not cursing out the house at 6 am.  It’s a weekday, and as much as he hates his room mates in the moment, not everyone is used to getting up as early as he does for work.

Buck opens his eyes, pockets his phone, wallet and keys, and walks out the front door.  He doesn’t have a destination in mind when he gets into his jeep, but he finds himself driving the familiar road to the small gym he has a membership for. 

He’s able to kill three hours at the gym, grab a coffee, and spend a few more at the local library browsing books and skimming through anything that catches his attention.  At lunch time he picks up a rotisserie chicken and a prepackaged salad from the grocery store to eat at the boardwalk. 

People watching keeps him occupied for a while.  It’s a Tuesday, so there aren’t many people out, but there are still tourists and families with young children going about their days. It leaves Buck with a sense of longing he hasn’t felt in a while.

Eventually he pulls out his phone and opens up Tinder.  There’s no shortage of profiles available, and with a few swipes to the right he finds himself chatting to Bonnie. She has wavy ash blond hair and a gap in her teeth.  Her profile says she’s a grad student and she is looking for adventure.

She invites him to meet her at a little bistro she says is near her apartment.  He grabs another coffee to drink, and some food to share while they make small talk.  He finds out she’s doing her PhD in epidemiology at UCLA, and he listens with rapt attention as she talks with passion about the impact of social determinants of health on the spread of infectious disease. 

It shouldn’t be as appealing as it is, but he’s always loved seeing people speaking about their interests. 

“I took the afternoon off as a sort of ‘mental health’ day,” she tells him with a smile. “I was thinking I might get up to something that releases some endorphins, if you want to join me?”

He notices her sharp red nails drumming on the table and pictures them scratching against his scalp, or down his back.  He smiles back at her, and puts a few bills down to cover their food. “Lead the way.”

They walk up the street, bumping shoulders as they walk, and she tells him about the differences between LA and her hometown.  Buck tells her about growing up in Hershey, and he doesn’t even have to point out that it wasn’t where chocolate was invented. 

*** 9-1-1 ***

Bonnie doesn’t even wait for the door to close before she’s pulling his shirt up and over his head. 

Buck helps her get it off, and goes in to kiss her.  She lets him capture her lips for a moment before she pulls away and nips at his bottom lip.  He grins into it, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her body into his.

She’s smaller than him, and he likes the way her curves feel under his hands.  He lets his fingers trail along her the waistband of her jeans, and up the back of her shirt, feeling her shiver against him.

It spurs her into motion, and she pushes him towards her couch.  She reaches between them, grabbing him through his pants. He cants his hips into her touch, and tries to kiss her neck.  She tilts away from it and smiles at him before putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him down onto the couch.

She climbs into his lap and grinds down against, providing delicious friction.  Buck continues to run his hands over her, feeling her skin shiver under his touch.  Emboldened, he slides his hands up her shirt to caress her breasts.   

She shudders against him and grinds down again.  Buck pushes up into the motion, and she lets out a breathy moan.

“You feel huge,” she whispers against his lips.  “I want to taste you.”

Huffing out a quite laugh, Buck brings his hands back down to her hips.  “I wouldn’t say no, if that’s what you want.”

She brings her hands down between them and starts to unbutton his pants.  She tails her fingers over his length through his boxers before sliding off his lap. He lifts his hips to help her pulls his pants down.  She pulls his boxers down and off, leaving him completely undressed.

Bonnie licks a stripe up his erection, then swallows him down without any warning. 

“Fuck!” Buck calls out, doing his best to stop from thrusting up into her mouth.  He slides one hand into her silky hair, and throws his head back against the back of the couch as she hums around him.

She’s quick to reach between his legs and gently roll his balls in her hand.  He breathes through his nose and watches her head bob up and down, trying not to embarrass himself.

Her hand wanders further back, pressing against his taint, and he feels pleasure spark through is body.  His hips roll involuntarily, and he feels her smile around him.  He’s going to lose himself in her mouth if she keeps it up, but he’s not ready to let go yet.

He’s jolted out it when her finger pushes further back.  The finger is dry, and the nail is sharp as it pushes against his entrance.  Instinctively, he jerks his hips away from her touch.  “Woah, woah, whoa!”

He uses the hand in her hair to gently guide her head off of him, erection flagging slightly.

She pulls off, and wipes her mouth, shooting him an annoyed glance.  “Ass play doesn’t make you gay.”

“Not really the issue here,” Buck replies with an indignant note to his voice.  “Slipping in a finger isn’t really something you should be springing on someone.  Especially without lube.”

“Whatever,” Bonnie replies with an eye roll.  “Can I ride you instead?”

“Are you going to pull any other surprises out on me?” Buck asks, only half teasing.  His dick is definitely still interested, but he’s a little leery.

She gives him a smirk and leans over to the side table to pull out a condom. “I promise to keep things strictly vanilla unless you ask for it.”

Leaning back into the couch, Buck lets his hands fall to his sides.  He offers her a grin of his own, and tells her, “Take what you want, then.”

*** 9-1-1 ***

They both get off, and Buck gets the hint before Bonnie is even off the couch that he’s not going to be invited to stick around for dinner.  She moves to the bathroom, so Buck shuffles into the kitchen to dispose of the condom and clean himself off with a damp paper towel.

He gets dressed, and looks around the apartment while he waits for her to come out.  It’s lived in, but tidy, and she clearly takes pride in her small space. Buck wishes his own room mates put in half of the effort.

“That was fun,” Bonnie tells him when she comes out of the bathroom.  She comes up to him, slides a hand around his neck, and he lets her pull him down for another kiss.  She pulls away. “We should definitely meet up again some time.”

“Ten out of ten would do again?” Buck asks jokingly.

Bonnie shrugs.  “Maybe seven-point-five out of ten.  You should really consider letting me put something in that gorgeous ass of yours next time.”

Buck nearly chokes on his own saliva, shocked at how bold she is about it.  He coughs a little before replying.  “Ah, sure thing.”

She offers him an indulgent smile.  “Message me next time your free.”

Buck nods and lets himself out the door.  He walks back to where he’s parked his car, knowing already that he isn’t going to message Bonnie again. 

He can’t get the idea out of his head, though, of someone else’s fingers pressing into him.  For some reason he can clearly imagine long fingers with neatly trimmed nails taking him apart.

He’s distracted, and in his head, when he gets home.  No one is in the common areas, but he notices someone has cleaned the mess from the night before off the ceiling and the dishes have been loaded into the dishwasher.

Buck snags his leftover Thai food and eats it cold while standing in front of the fridge.  He washes it down with a glass of water, then makes his way up to his room.  Making sure he has everything ready for the morning, he sets his alarm and climbs into bed. 

 Sleep takes a long time to come.

*** 9-1-1 ***

Buck wakes early and arrive at the station 20 minutes before shift change over.  He puts his things in his locker and waits in the locker room for the rest of his team mates to come in.

“Damn, Buck.  Looks like you got mauled while you were off,” Gabriel is quick to point out.

Buck had noticed the scratches on his neck and shoulders when he’d woken up in the morning, but couldn’t do much to hide them.  He shrugs it off and doesn’t respond.  He heads to the bay where Captain Warren is ready to begin the morning briefing.  They get through the report, and check out their assigned chores.

Maria sidles up to him and nudges him gently in the side.  “Good time, at least?”

Buck shrugs again, not wanting to overshare.  “It was fine.  Not going to ask for a repeat performance, though.”

Maria nods once, and smiles at him. “Their loss.  You still on for trivia tomorrow night?”

Perking up at the reminder, Buck is quick to agree that he’ll be there.  Before the conversation can go any further the alarm goes off, and the team quickly sets in motion.

The 122 responds to a fire at a motel shortly after the shift starts.  It’s small enough, and easily contained.  There’s one fatality, dead on arrival, and likely the source of the fire.  There’s speculation from the LAPD that it was a mix of alcohol, drugs and a lit joint.

They’re wrapping up, treating the last few victims for minor smoke inhalation when Buck catches Sargeant Grant saunters up to them. 

“Quick work here,” she points out. “Makes our job here easier.”

“Always a pleasure to see you on the job, Athena,” Captain Warren called out.  “Anything we can do for you?”

“Just checking up on you guys,” she admitted.  “I wanted the chance to thank Fire Fighter Buckley here personally for the assist last week.”

Buck’s cheeks flush, uncomfortable at being called out.  He mutters, “Just doing my job.”

Athena smiles indulgently, like she’s dealing with an enthusiastic puppy.  “You would have done well with the LAPD.”

Stepping in between Athena and Buck, Sal crosses his arms over his chest. “Back off, Sargeant Grant.  This one is our boot.”

The rest of the crew laughs, but Buck can tell they’re laughing with him, and he feels warmth blossom in his chest.

They make it back to the station and start cleaning up and restocking their supplies.   They don’t have any further calls for the morning, so they make quick work of the tasks.  Connie is on the one on kitchen duty, and Buck wants to offer her a hand – she makes the best scrambled eggs, and he’s certain she’s got some other tricks up her sleeves he wants to pick up.

She’s no where around the kitchen close to lunch time thought.  Buck pokes his head around the station and catches her with her feet up reading.

“No lunch today?” Buck asks her sitting down next to her and taking a look at the books on the small bookshelf in their lounge area.

“You’re in luck,” Connie tells him, large grin on her face.   “Sal’s girlfriend Gina is bringing lunch in.”

“Like takeout or something?” Buck asks, curious.

Shaking her head, Connie sits up and rests her forearms on her knees.  “Gina’s family is Italian, and she learned all of the family recipes.  A few times a year she’ll come in with pasta al forno, or ziti, or lasagna, along with all the sides and dessert, and serve it up for us here.  It’s like an orgasm in your mouth. Just wait.”

Buck is curious.  He hasn’t had a lot of baked pasta dishes that don’t come premade in an aluminium pan from the frozen section, and he isn’t really sure what constitutes an Italian side dish.  He hovers around the kitchen, waiting for Sal’s girlfriend to show up.

“You’re going to ask her about Italian cooking, aren’t you?” Sal’s voice pulls Buck from is musings, and he looks at the lieutenant sheepishly.

“Not something I’ve had a lot of experience with,” Buck admits to Sal.  “Will she mind?”

Sal laughs, clapping Buck on the shoulder. “Gina loves cooking for a crowd, and she’ll be more than happy to give you some of her trade secrets.  She’s of the mentality that food is love, and she has a lot of love to give.”

“That’s good,” Buck responds, smiling back.  “I’m starting to get the hang of more recipes, and I like being in the kitchen.  My family were more ready to cook or meat and potato types, and they never spent the time teaching me or my sister how to cook.”

“Only problem with learning how to cook in the firehouse is that you’ll only ever be able to make enough food for an army,” Sal points out, grinning.  Sal’s phone dings, and his face turns soft as he reads the message.  “Alright! Gina’s here.  I’m going to help her bring everything in.  You let the crew know lunch will be ready in fifteen.”

Sal jogged off towards the parking lot, and Buck started passing the word that lunch would be served.  The crew started to gather in the kitchen as Sal and a beautiful blonde woman walked into the kitchen, arms laden with food. 

Buck immediately stepped in to take some of the dishes out of Gina’s arms to help her with the load.  She smiled at Sal, and nodded her head towards Buck. With a stage whisper to Sal she said, “I like him already.”

Face flushing in embarrassment, Buck turns away and carries the trays into the kitchen.

“The food should still be hot,” Gina calls out, and the crew descents on the table as she pulls out a large bowl of salad.  She unwraps three large rolls of garlic bread.  “We’ve got meat and veggie lasagna, salad, garlic bread and cannoli for dessert.”

Oscar is the first to snag a plate and give Gina a kiss on the cheek.  “Leave Sal.  Run away with me.”

Gina smiles at him with a fondness that belies a long friendship. They’ve clearly had this conversation before.  “I would, Oscar, but you love your wife too much.”

“Alas, you’re right,” Oscar says with a wink.  “My Maria is a goddess among women.”

Maria came strutting into the kitchen next.  “I heard my name.”

Oscar gave her a light hip check. “We weren’t talking about you.  Gina was reminding me of my darling wife.” 

Maria looks at her partner skeptically. 

Oscar looks her up and down before smirking.  “I would never be able to leave her.  You, I would give up for an extra cannoli.”

Laughing, Maria raised her eyebrows with a shrug.  “I can’t even blame you for that.  Thanks for cooking, Gina.  We always look forward to it.”

Buck waits until last to grab himself a plate, but there is still a lot to choose from.  He takes a piece of both lasagnas to try, and loads his plate with salad and bread.  He shovels a bite into his mouth and moans around the rich, complex flavour. 

“I think he likes it,” Sal comments to Gina, laughing, and Gina smiles back.

“The key to the sauce is to char the tomato paste before adding anything else to the pot,” Gina leans over to tell Buck.  “It gives it that rich, smoky flavour.”

“Do you make the tomato paste from scratch?” Buck asks, curious.

Gina nods, taking a bite of the pasta herself. “Usually, I get together with my nonna, my mom and Sal’s mother after we harvest the tomatoes in the summer. We’ll make large batches of paste and sauce to use over the next year.  You can do the same thing with the canned paste, though. Most people won’t notice the difference.”

Buck nods at the advice, wondering what he’d need to do to get his hands on the home-made tomato paste. 

The team is able to finish the meal, and dessert, without any interruptions.  Buck helps Connie with the dishes as part of KP duty.  Before Gina leaves she makes sure he has her number so she can send him some of her recipes.

The rest of the shift passes with a steady stream of mundane calls, but they manage to get a six hour stretch through the night.  Buck packs up his things at the end of the shift and heads out to the parking lot.

Maria jogs after him, big grin on her face.  “Don’t forget, Buck.  Trivia tonight at 7.  I need you to bring your A-game.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Buck tells her, honestly. 

Chapter 7

END NOTES:

The explicit scene does involve an under-negotiated sexual encounter. Buck's partner tries something without discussing it first, and without appropriate prep. Buck speaks up, and they pause to discuss before continuing, but Buck's partner thinks Buck was over-reacting.

The intention behind the scene is to demonstrate that Buck is trying to prove to himself that he's still very into women (which he is), and that whatever happened with Tommy was a one off (it isn't). It's also meant to show that Buck is very much still using sex as a form of escapism.

If I've missed anything, or you think it needs additional tags/warnings, let me know.

Tag List: @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66, @disaster-j - - drop me a comment if you want to be added

[letsdosciencetoit]

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Chapter 5

Summary: Tommy doesn't take the step to transfer to Harbor Station. Without a vacant spot at the 118, Buck is hired on to the 122 instead. How do things change without the influence of the 118 on Buck's early career, and how does Tommy handle remaining in the closet.

Chapter 4 Summary - Buck and Tommy continue to enjoy their time at the bar, and we learn a little more about the members of the 122.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

On AO3: I'm Where the Spiders Go

Chapter 5 - Awakened to Act - 3138 Words - Chapter rating, T. Overall rating will be E.

Leaving the bar with the fresh pitcher, and confirmation from Sal that there’s no ill will over the spilled beer, Buck feels a little more confident as he returns to the table with the rest of the group.  Oscar and Maria are now going head-to-head at the dart board, while Gabriel eggs them on.

Buck sets the pitcher down with care this time, avoiding the glasses littering the table. Tommy’s knee knocks against his under the table and Buck is torn between pressing into it or trying to take up less space.  He catches Tommy’s eye.

“You know, if you wanted to get my attention there are better ways to go about it,” Tommy says with a grin.

Buck feels his whole face flush. He hadn’t intended to make a fool of himself, but he can’t be upset by the turn of events.  Tommy seems so cool, and Buck desperately wants to spend more time with him.

“I, uh…” Buck stammers, desperate for something to do with his hands, but he’s hesitant to pick up his pint again in case he knocks this one over as well.

Leaning back in his seat, Tommy offers an easy smile.  “Relax kid, I’m just kidding.”

Buck smiles back, meeting Tommy’s eyes.  The eye contact lingers, but Buck doesn’t break it.  He feels warm under Tommy’s gaze and he doesn’t want to lose it. He leans back in his chair across from Tommy, mirroring his posture.  “So, what kind of things do keep your attention?”

“Love Actually, monster trucks, craft beer,” Tommy answered, raising his pint glass in a showing gesture.

Buck understands two of the three, and makes to grab for Tommy’s pint glass.  Buck knows good beers from his bartending days, and he wants to try it.

Tommy lets him grab the glass with an amused grin, but Tommy’s gaze feels hot as he watches Buck bring his lips to the glass and take a sip of the beer.  Tommy licks his own lips and leans forward, but doesn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Buck’s assessment of the drink.

Buck swallows a small sip of the beer, letting he flavour play across his tongue.  He hands the pint glass back to Tommy.  “Double IPA with notes of grapefruit and peach.  They did a good job balancing the bitterness. I would order that again.  What is it?”

Tommy shrugged, taking a sip from the pint himself.  Watching Tommy share the same glass felt strangely intimate, and Buck realizes he might have overstepped taking a virtual stranger’s drink. Tommy doesn’t seem to mind, however.  “Sal ordered it for me.  I was planning on asking the bartender before I leave.”

“The brewers usually use Cascade hopes to get the grapefruit flavour, and Galaxy hops are pretty popular option for the peach aroma,” Buck beings explaining, his wealth of brewing knowledge springing to the forefront of his mind.  He checks to make sure Tommy is interested. The man still has a slight grin on his face, and he’s leaning forward, making eye contact, so Buck continues.  “Did you know that until the 9th century they didn’t use hops for beer.  They would use a mix of herbs and spices, called gruit, to make the beer.  And beer was actually safer to drink than water because boiling the grains would kill any bacteria present in the water supply.”

Looking at him with eyes full of supressed laughter, Tommy replied.  “I did not know that.  Some of the microbrewers are starting turning to Azacca for a tropical, peachy flavour in the last year.   A buddy of mine brought me a can from a Nova Scotia Brewery that was something else.”

Buck’s eyes light up, loving that Tommy was able to pick up his thread of conversation. “It’s amazing how much development has gone into hops breeding recently in terms of the flavour and aroma profiles.  Oregon State University has had a hop breeding program since 1931, but it’s initial focus was breeding hardier crops that were resistant to downy mildew.”

Tommy is about to respond when the others come back to the table.  Gabriel nudges Tommy’s shoulder. 

“Tommy, my man.  Don’t feel like you have to keep humouring Buck,” Gabriel interrupts.  His voice is jovial, but his words feel cutting.  “Buck will talk your ear off at a mile a minute if you don’t tell him to shut up.”

Maria slid into the spot next to Buck and gave Gabriel a glare. When she speaks, she’s almost snarling.  “Someone needs to tell you to shut up, Benson. I for one love Buck’s big, beautiful brain.”

Oscar smiles as well.  “This kid is a walking encyclopedia.  I have definitely used some of his information to answer my daughter’s endless ‘Why?’ questions.”

“I definitely plan on storing some of this information away for later use,” Tommy agrees, giving Buck another smile.  It makes Buck’s head spin, the feeling of whiplash he’s getting this evening.  Gabriel hasn’t warmed to him much, yet.  The two of them don’t have a lot in common, and they haven’t had the chance to bond over a call. It feels good, though, that Maria and Oscar have his back, and that Tommy still seems interested.

Buck sits back in his chair, letting his legs spread, feigning a cocky, relaxed attitude.  His leg bumps against Tommy’s again under the table, but the other man doesn’t move, and Buck lets his leg rest there. 

“Buck is going to help me clean up at trivia,” Maria says with a grin.  She reaches across the table to grab the pitcher and top up the pint glasses.

“You haven’t even properly invited me,” Buck pointed out, accepting the refill.  He noticed Tommy didn’t, and felt a moment of disappointment that the man would likely be leaving when his drink was done.

“Next Thursday, we have it off!” Maria exclaims, voice bubbling with excitement.  She pulls out her phone and starts typing out a text. “We have a team of first responders from a few of the stations.  I’m letting the team know I’m bringing a ringer!”

Buck spluttered in his pint glass.  “I’ve never actually done trivia before, guys.  I could be terrible.”

“You just have to drink and know things, Buck,” Maria reassured him.  “You’ll do just fine.”

Buck clocks Tommy watching the exchange with an amused smile.  Buck feels a strong urge to include him so he doesn’t feel the need to leave.  “Have you ever done trivia, Tommy?”

Huffing out a quiet laugh, Tommy nods.  “Sure.  I’ve been out a few times with Sal and his girlfriend.  At least until I split with my ex.”

Buck clocks that Tommy mentions an ex.  Does it mean the man is single, or just that he doesn’t do trivia any more after that specific ex.  Before he can think of a way to ask his questions without coming across as a weirdo, Maria is talking again.

“You can come too, Tommy,” she offers.  “Provided Sal vouches that you weren’t just a leech on the team.”

“I’m good for history and movies,” Tommy states dryly, like he doesn’t care if he’s invited or not.

Maria is delighted.  “That’s perfect.  We don’t have a movie buff on our team yet!  We are definitely going to win next week!”

Tommy knocks their legs together again, and offers Buck another smile.  Buck grins back in return and takes another sip of his beer as the conversation continues flowing.

Eventually Gabriel gets up and moves to the bar.  He mutters something about getting another round, but the bartender only hands him one pint, and the group watches him strike up a conversation with a brunette standing with her friend.

Buck can read her body language, even from the side.  She’s closed off, and clearly doesn’t want to be talking to him.  Gabriel gestures over the table, and the brunette and the blond woman she is with both look over.  The brunette shakes her head, and turns her back towards Gabriel.  He shrugs and moves on towards another group.

Maria shakes her head. “Gabriel’s at it again.”

“At what?”  Buck asks, watching Gabriel strike out again and move on. He realizes the question is redundant.

“Gabriel comes out with us, has a few drinks, and decides he’s god’s gift to women,” Oscar explains, shaking his head in distaste.  “He’s going to work his way through every single looking woman at this bar.  He’ll either charm one of them, or slink back here with his tail between his legs complaining that the women in LA are so stuck up.”

Buck tilts his head to one side, watches Gabriel approach another group of women, and attempt to ingratiate himself to them.  Buck realizes immediately that they are not pleased with the interruption.  Buck raises his open palm to gesture to where Gabriel is standing and gives one shake of his head. “Of course he’s getting shut down. He’s going about this all wrong.”

Scoffing, Maria raises an eye brow. Tommy leans forward in the table, clearly curious with what Buck’s about to say.  Oscar just snorts and smirks at him. “You think so, Buck?  Are you suddenly God’s gift to women?”

Leaning back in his seat, Buck holds his palms up in defence.  “I’m not saying that!  I’m just saying you can’t go out and cast a wide net and hope you land someone.  You have to gauge interest first.”

Maria rolls her eyes. “Tell me how you gauge interest, probie.  This is going to be good.”

As Buck scans the bar, he feels the other’s watching him, especially the heavy weight of Tommy’s gaze. Buck tries to ignore it, but he feels a not unpleasant tingle up his spine.  He really wants to impress the group, so he keeps looking until he makes eye contact with the blond woman sitting next to the brunette Gabriel had first approached.

“See the blonde over there, where Gabriel struck out first.” He doesn’t point her out, but he nods his chin up in her direction with a smile.  She smiles back, and takes a sip from her wine glass. “She’s drinking while making strong, intimate eye contact.”

“Fuck,” Maria swears.  “Buck isn’t wrong. That woman is looking at him like she wants to eat him up.”

Oscar lets out a short bark of laughter before reigning it in.  “So, what next?  You going to charm her with some pick up lines?”

“Say I go over there,” Buck starts.  “I’d probably make a joke, and she’ll smile. We’ll both laugh.  I’ll buy her a drink.  Maybe our shoulders touch, or she puts her hand on my arm.  There’s a moment, and I’ll lean in a little closer.  She doesn’t resist, and we end in bed together by the end of the night.”

“I think you want a little more than ‘doesn’t resist,’” Maria points out with a glare.

Buck shakes his head.  “Wrong choice of words.  She gives me enthusiastic consent and we have enjoyable but meaningless sex.”

“So, what’s stopping you,” Tommy asks dryly with a raised eyebrow. 

Buck’s attention is immediately brought back to the group, and the way Tommy’s leg has been pressed against his under the table this whole time. Buck’s cheeks flush under the stares from the three of them.  “I came out to hang with you guys.  I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

Oscar knocks him in the shoulder, and Maria calls him a suck up.  Tommy offers him a warm smile, and Buck doesn’t think too much about why that him feel warm inside.  Sal has taken him under his wing at the firehouse, so it only makes sense that Buck would make a good impression on Sal’s friend. 

*** 9-1-1 ***

Evan follows him out of the bar, phone in hand.  The way his fingers move on the screen, Tommy’s pretty sure he’s swiping right on Tinder.  How millennials hook up is none of his business, but Evan hasn’t stopped talking Tommy’s ear off about Nero of all things.  How they’d gotten from brewing beer to Roman history is a little mirky, but Tommy had enjoyed the ride. 

Call him old fashioned, but Tommy would prefer that when someone is talking to him, they’re actually paying attention to him as well.

Evan continues to talk as he swipes on his phone.  “And did you know he competed in the Olympics?  He did it to try and improve his popularity, but he was nearly killed racing a ten-horse chariot because he was thrown from it. They also had competitions in acting and singing.  He wasn’t the best, but because he was the emperor he ‘won.’”

Tommy is frustrated, because as ridiculous as it is, he wants to be focal point of Evan’s attention. 

“God, Evan, does anything shut you up?”  he blurts out. The words are mocking, especially given the way Gabriel was talking earlier, but somehow Tommy finds his tone is unintentionally fond.  If it wasn’t late, if he wasn’t ready to crash, and if Evan wasn’t working with one of Tommy’s closest friends...

He isn’t unaware of the way Evan lowers his phone and looks up Tommy, an impressive feat considering they’re close to the same height.  Evan’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he rocks back a little on his heels.

“You want to find out?” the cocky little shit says, and if there was any doubt remaining in his mind about whether or not Evan was flirting with him, it’s been blown out of the water. Evan is definitely interested.

He takes the two steps that are separating them, grabs Evan’s chin, and brings their lips together.  It’s rough, and Evan hesitates a moment, long enough for Tommy to wonder if he’s made the wrong call, read the situation wrong, before Evan melts into it.

The honk of a horn brings Tommy back to himself, and he realizes where they are.  In plain view of the street, where anyone from the bar could walk out and see them.  He immediately pulls away from Evan, runs his hand through his hair, and takes in the dazed look on Evan’s face. 

It takes Evan a moment to come to, but once he knows he has Evan’s attention he takes a step back, grabs Evan by the chin again and says, “Not a word about this to anyone.”

Evan nods mutely, eyes still a little glazed, then he repeats, “Not a word.”

Nodding back, Tommy is about to walk away when Evan’s phone dings. Evan holds it up, and stupidly says, “Uber’s here.”

Tommy nods again, and Evan walks towards the car.  “See you around, kid,” he tells him.

Evan looks at the car that pulled up to the curb, then back to Tommy. His lips part, like he’s going to say something more, and Tommy doesn’t want to hear it.   Any suggestion Evan makes, any argument he brings up, and Tommy’s going to fold and make the dumbest decision of his life.

He isn’t going to hook up with his best friend’s boot, so he turns his back to Evan and walks to his truck.  He doesn’t look back.

*** 9-1-1 ***

The uber driver honks his horn to get Buck’s attention and he moves into the back seat in a daze.

“You’d better not throw up back there,” the driver says, pulling away from the curb.

Trying to catch the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Buck mutters, “I’m not drunk.”

The driver scoffs, and they make the rest of the trip back to Buck’s home in silence.  Buck tips the driver, because he’s not a jerk, but not as well as he would normally.

The shared house is blessedly quiet when he gets in.  The kitchen floor is once again sticky, and Buck tries not to let it bother him as he makes his way to his room.  He moves on autopilot as he strips and showers, brushes his teeth, then climbs into bed.  He puts his phone screen side down on the particle board side table.  The whole table wobbles with added weight, ready to collapse on itself with the slightest breeze.

Buck closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but his mind decides in that moment to reboot.  His whole attention seems focused on the way his lips are tingling, and the flutter of unmet anticipation in his belly.

He has no idea what the hell just happened.  One minute he’s just vibing with Tommy, enjoying the conversation, and the next he’s getting the breath kissed out of his lungs. 

The kiss was… something else.  Buck is used to being the instigator in most of his encounters.  He’s used to gauging interest and directing the pace. Sure, he loves when a woman would climb on top of him and take charge, but he always knew he could turn the tables or stop things if needed.  He’d never had someone kiss him with such certainty, and he had never been physically outmatched by a partner before.

Tommy had kissed him with confidence and strength he’d never felt before.  He’d also never experienced the scrape of stubble against his chin.

Buck loves women.   Buck understands what’s expected of him with women.   He’s always been an ally, but he’d never felt any inclination to look at men in a sexual light.  Now, Tommy is all he can think about, and what the hell does that mean?

Buck is still awake, staring at his ceiling, when he hears the rest of his housemates coming home in the wee hours of the morning.  He hears their hushed voices through the wall, trying to keep the volume down, but failing miserably.  Theres a chorus of shushing, the sound of something crashing to the floor, and suppressed laughter. 

The bathroom door slams shut, and through the thin walls Buck hears some one heaving into the toilet. It goes on for longer than is probably healthy, but eventually the toilet flushes and the door opens and closes again.  Buck rolls over and looks at his phone - it’s already 4:30 in the morning. 

He rolls onto his side and tries again to fall asleep, but his mind is racing and his limbs are restless, itching to be put to use.

By 5:20 he’s changed into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt.  He slips on his sneakers, grabs his phone and a ratty set of headphones that only pushes volume out of one ear.  He heads out the door without a route in mind, just focuses on his breathing and the tinny sound coming out of one head phone.

The steady pound of his feet against the sidewalk matches his heartbeat as his long legs eat up the miles.  For a few precious hours, he doesn’t think of anything at all. 

Chapter 6

Tag List: @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66, @disaster-j - - drop me a comment if you want to be added

[letsdosciencetoit]

i love finding out what degrees my mutuals have. like what the fuck do you mean you do law? you’re a doctor who blog

[letsdosciencetoit]

Evan Buckley + animals

[letsdosciencetoit]

Several Sentences Sunday - I'm Where the Spiders Go

One of the fun things about writing Buck is going on weird research spirals to figure out things he would likely hyperfocus on. Because of this, I offer up ~500 words of Buck and Tommy discussing beer making from the next chapter of I'm Where the Spiders Go.

(Context for those who aren't reading - BuckTommy S1 AU where Tommy doesn't leave the 118 so Buck is assigned to the 122. They've met for the first time at a bar while out with the 122).

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Snippet

Buck smiles back, meeting Tommy’s eyes.  The eye contact lingers, but Buck doesn’t break it.  He feels warm under Tommy’s gaze and he doesn’t want to lose it. He leans back in his chair across from Tommy, mirroring his posture.  “So what kind of things do keep your attention?”

“Love Actually, monster trucks, craft beer,” Tommy answered, raising his pint glass in a showing gesture.

Buck understands two of the three, and makes to grab for Tommy’s pint glass.  Buck knows good beers from his bartending days, and he wants to try it.

Tommy lets him grab the glass with an amused grin, but Tommy’s gaze feels hot as he watches Buck bring his lips to the glass and take a sip of the beer.  Tommy licks his own lips and leans forward, but doesn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Buck’s assessment of the drink.

Buck swallows a small sip of the beer, letting he flavour play across his tongue.  He hands the pint glass back to Tommy.  “Double IPA with notes of grapefruit and peach.  They did a good job balancing the bitterness. I would order that again.  What is it?”

Tommy shrugged, taking a sip from the pint himself.  Watching Tommy share the same glass felt strangely intimate, and Buck realizes he might have overstepped taking a virtual stranger’s drink. Tommy doesn’t seem to mind, however.  “Sal ordered it for me.  I was planning on asking the bartender before I leave.”

“The brewers usually use Cascade hopes to get the grapefruit flavour, and Galaxy hops are pretty popular option for the peach aroma,” Buck beings explaining, his wealth of brewing knowledge springing to the forefront of his mind.  He checks to make sure Tommy is interested. The man still has a slight grin on his face, and he’s leaning forward, making eye contact, so Buck continues.  “Did you know that until the 9th century they didn’t use hops for beer.  They would use a mix of herbs and spices, called gruit, to make the beer.  And beer was actually safer to drink than water because boiling the grains would kill any bacteria present in the water supply.”

Looking at him with eyes full of supressed laughter, Tommy replied.  “I did not know that.  Some of the microbrewers are starting turning to Azacca for a tropical, peachy flavour in the last year.   A buddy of mine brought me a can from a Nova Scotia Brewery that was something else.”

Buck’s eyes light up, loving that Tommy was able to pick up his thread of conversation. “It’s amazing how much development has gone into hops breeding recently in terms of the flavour and aroma profiles.  Oregon State University has had a hop breeding program since 1931, but it’s initial focus was breeding hardier crops that were resistant to downy mildew.”

Tommy is about to respond when the others come back to the table.  Gabriel nudges Tommy’s shoulder. 

“Tommy, my man.  Don’t feel like you have to keep humouring Buck,” Gabriel interrupts.  His voice is jovial, but his words feel cutting.  “Buck will talk your ear off at a mile a minute if you don’t tell him to shut up.”

[letsdosciencetoit]

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Chapter 4

Summary: Tommy doesn't take the step to transfer to Harbor Station. Without a vacant spot at the 118, Buck is hired on to the 122 instead. How do things change without the influence of the 118 on Buck's early career, and how does Tommy handle remaining in the closet.

Chapter 3 Summary - Buck finally gets the invite from Sal to join the team for drinks. He gets to meet Sal's friend, Tommy.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

On AO3: I'm Where the Spiders Go

Chapter 3 - In Need of Wanting- 3249 Words - Chapter rating, T. Overall rating will be E.

January 2018

Evan makes it back to the station after saying good by to Abigail, the woman on the other end of the line at dispatch.  He’d told her she was the real hero, and he isn’t lying.  Dispatch had kept the girl on the line long enough to find her, and she’d talked the burglars into the reach of the police.  That had been a bad ass team effort.

The team is at the station when he gets back, and he gets a look when he pulls the ladder truck back into the station, but no one makes any comments.

He hops out of the truck; his boots barely hit the ground when Captain Warrant calls down.  “Buckley!  My office, now.”

Buck immediately looks for Sal, catches his eye and mouths “Extenuating circumstances.”

Sal just laughs, and jerks his head towards the captain’s office. 

With his footsteps heavy, Buck makes his way up to the office.  In his head he knows this isn’t a reprimand, but Buck can’t shake the feeling that he’s being called to the principal’s office.

The door is open but Buck knocks anyway.

“Buck,” Captain Warren begins, gesturing to the empty chair.  “Please, come in and have a seat.”

Buck tentatively sits down, and has to make a conscious effort to stop his knee from bouncing up and down. “What’s up, Cap?”

“Got a call from Athena Grant about the call you helped out on,” Warren offers.  “She’s not a woman who’s easily impressed, and she told me you impressed her.  Told me we had a real asset to the department on our team.”

Ducking his head, Buck brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck.  Direct praise wasn’t something he knew how to deal with.

“Do you disagree with her assessment, Firefighter Buckley?” Warren asked softly, one eyebrow raised.

“Uh, no Captain,” Buck offered back, not really sure what was going on.

“Go get some rest, Buck,” the captain instructed, and Buck shot out of the chair towards the door as fast as he could.  “Oh!  Buck – I followed up with your cardiac arrest patient this morning.  He’s going to be fine.”

“Oh,” Buck replied, shocked that the captain would have followed up.  “Thanks for letting me know.”

Buck was serious about the gratitude.  Between the robbery call and finding out that their first patient was going to be alright, he felt lighter.

There’s a bounce in his steps when he makes his way to the kitchen where everyone is already sitting with a bowl of the chili and fresh baked cornbread muffins. Buck helps himself to a bowl of what’s remaining on the stove and one of the muffins. 

*** 9-1-1 ***

They don’t get any further calls through the evening, and Buck is able to get a solid 8 hours of sleep on his bunk.  He’s pretty sure it’s the best night sleep he’s had in weeks.  He still has the bounce in hit step as he goes down the stairs at the end of the shift.

He’s already putting a mental list of what he wants to do with his four off when Sal approaches with a grin on his face.

“We’re going to the Silver Spoon tonight for drinks - 7:30 tonight.  I’m expecting you to be there, kid.”

*** 9-1-1 ***

Tommy is ten hours into his four days off, and he’s feeling restless.  He’s cleaned his house, picked up groceries at the local farmers market, and changed the oil on is truck. 

Thumb hovering over the phone screen, he contemplates opening Grinder.  He has the app hidden on his phone, only accessible with his face ID if you know it’s there.  It feels paranoid to guard the access to his phone, but he’s terrified of anyone he knows finding out.

Sal has his phone passcode. The man is his emergency contact, and is responsible for notifying any relevant parties in a worst-case scenario and winding down his accounts.  There isn’t really a long list of people that need to be contacted.  His parents will get a call, but they don’t talk much, especially after they told Tommy he’d blown up his life by leaving Abby.

He opens the app, looks at the photos presented to him, and closes it again without opening any of the profiles.  Since breaking up with Abby he’s used Grindr enough to figure out the basics of what he likes and dislikes without having to worry about finding a secluded space and a spare second.  It’s been good, liberating, even, to be able to indulge in something he’d once been ashamed to admit to himself he’d even wanted.

It feels a lot like scratching an itch, though.  It feels good in the moment, but leaves him feeling raw and wanting more.  

It also feels transactional; more empty than an average in person hook up might.

He’s been contemplating if he has the courage to head out to West Hollywood. Maybe even try his hands at one of the clubs.  He wonders if the spontaneity might be what he’s craving, but he’s still having trouble wrapping his mind around being out in public, even in a relatively safe place.

He bites the inside of his cheek while he studies the takeout menus in his drawer.  It would be easy to order something, pick it up, and spend first his evening off watching one of the Hallmark Christmas Movies he has saved to his DVR from December.  He’ll watch something comforting and predictable and wake up in the exact same place he is right now.

His phone pings with a message – he opens it immediately and see’s Sal’s messaged him.

Sal: Silver Spoon at 7:30. Few of my shift are going out. You in?

Tommy considers it, and he already knows he doesn’t want to spend the night at home alone.  He’ll go out, have drinks with a friend, and get out of his head for a few hours.  He even likes some of the people on Sal’s crew.  It’s a solid, non-nonsense group, quite unlike the family Captain Nash is starting to bring together a the 118.

Tommy: I’m in.  You’re getting the first round.

He has an hour to get ready before he needs to head out.  He takes a quick shower, adds some gel to his hair, and throws on a henley and a pair of dark jeans that don’t have grease stains.  He makes a quick protein shake, and chokes it down before leaves the house.  He’ll have something more substantial when he gets to the pub.

He drives to the pub, only planning on having a pint or two. The drive is easy, and he pulls up to the bar right at 7:30. Sal already has a table in the back, but the pool tables.  He recognizes Gabriel, Osar and Maria from the 122.  There are two empty chairs, and Tommy claims the one next to Sal.

“I got you your fancy fru fru beer,” Sal comments, sliding full pint down the table to him. 

Without question, Tommy takes a sip. It’s strong with fruity notes.  Tommy can tell Sal’s ordered him a double IPA, which while very good, is going to mean he’s only nursing the one drink for the evening.  One day he’ll make a point of downloading Uber, but tonight is not that night. 

He makes a note to ask the server what the beer is after he takes a second sip.  He actually really likes it.  Sal would rather drink whatever domestic brand they have on tap, and Tommy is certain that’s what’s in the pitcher on the table.

Leaning back, Tommy takes in the rest of the bar.  He’s about to ask if the remaining seat is saved for someone when he clocks movement at the entrance.  The kid walking in is wearing tight ripped jeans, boots, and a leather jacket that is definitely too warm for the weather they’re having.  Tommy clocks the birthmark above his left eye, and the way his whole face lights up when he spots his team at the table.

The kid practically bounces over to the table, and Oscar calls out, “Probie!  If it isn’t the hero of the hour!”

The probie ducks his head, and his whole face flushes.  Tommy already knows he’s in trouble.

*** 9-1-1 ***

The bar is busy when Buck finally makes it.  He’s running late.  He’s Jeep has been running a little rough, so he’s called an Uber first, and the drive took longer than expected to arrive.

He spots his team shortly after entering the bar, and smiles when he sees they’ve saved him a spot.  It’s taken him a while to feel like he’s actually part of the team, but he’s starting to feel like they want him around, rather than just tolerating him.

“Probie!  If it isn’t the hero of the hour!” Oscar calls out, waving him over.

Buck ducks his head, and he can feel his cheeks flushing.  He feels a little a little foolish that they’re making such a big deal of it.  He rubs at the back of neck, trying to hid his discomfort at the attention, but he’s still smiling.

He’s smile falls a little when he sees a stranger sitting at the table as well.  He straightens his shoulders and takes the empty seat next to the man.   He doesn’t get the chance to introduce himself before Sal is reaching over and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Tommy, this is our probie, Evan Buckley.” Sal’s voice booms. “He just stopped an armed robbery with the deluge gun today.  Buck, this is Tommy Kinard, from my old station.  He likes us better than his own crew, so he comes out with us to celebrate the 4 off.”

Buck watches Tommy slug Sal in the shoulder and mutters an “asshole” under his breath, but his eyes are smiling.  Buck smiles brightens again as he takes in the banter, comfortable now that Tommy isn’t there to take his place, just another firefighter out for a drink.

Buck takes in Tommy’s sharp features, and the cleft in his chin.  The man sits with an air of confidence that Buck only wishes he could emulate.  Tommy catches him staring and raises an eyebrow while tilting his head, an unspoken question.

Looking away, Buck distracts himself with finding an empty cup and filling it from the pitcher.  He empties it into his glass for half a pint, and gets up without a word to head to the bar to fill it.

When he returns to the table with the fresh pitcher Sal and Gabriel are at the pool table, while Oscar and Maria are in a heated conversation about the LA Kings.  Buck pays more attention to hockey than some of the other professional sports, but he doesn’t follow enough to contribute, or even want to pay attention to what they’re arguing about.  Those two can make anything a contest.

He sits back down next to Tommy, and tops his glass, eyes on anything but the man sitting next to him. 

“So how did you manage to become a vigilante on your shift?” Tommy asks, lips quirked in a wry grin.  The man’s tone is beyond dry, but Buck catches the teasing in it, and it puts him at ease.

He takes a drink of his beer to help his suddenly dry mouth. He tries to down play it when he starts talking.  “I was man behind, and they needed an engine to help pinpoint the location of a house with an active robbery and a minor inside.  I just drove the engine with the siren on until they could hear it on the call.”

“Hmm,” Tommy starts with another raised eyebrow.  “That doesn’t really explain the deluge gun.”

The sarcasm startles a chuckle out of Buck.  “Um, yeah.  Sergeant Grant got one of the guys at the house, but the other tried to take off on his motorcycle.  I may have used the deluge gun to shot him off the bike.”

Tommy almost snorted his beer, whether at Buck’s statement or the way he delivered it.  “Shit, kid!  Everyone alright?”

Buck grinned at Tommy’s reaction, leaning in a little closer.  “Everyone’s fine.  Bad guys arrested, kid’s home with her parents, and no one was hurt.”

“Except for the man you knocked off the bike,” Tommy pointed out.

Buck shook his head, placing both hands on the table for emphasis. “No!  Even him. Minor scrapes.  They were able to take him straight to booking.”

“And Sergeant Grant called Captain Warren to sing your praises,” Sal interrupted, resting a heavy hand on Buck’s shoulders before taking a seat next to him again.  “She said you were a quick thinker and an asset to have on our team.”

“That’s high praise from Sergeant Grant,” Tommy offered, raising his glass in a mock toast.  “That woman does not pay compliments lightly.”

Buck feels his cheeks flushing again, and he looks down at the table to try to hide it.  “I just did what anyone would have done.”

“I’m not sure just anyone would have thought to man the gun,” Tommy points out, putting a warm hand on Buck’s shoulder.  The heat radiates down his arm and spreads through his chest.  He meets Tommy’s gaze, and is pinned by the sincerity in it.  Buck can’t remember the last time he felt seen, like what he does matters, and someone recognized it.

The intensity of the moment becomes too much for him, and Buck breaks eye contact first, reaching for his glass and downing the rest of it.

“I’ll get the next round,” he says, and pushes away from the table with a screech of his chair.  Oscar and Maria stop arguing and shoot a sharp look his way, but Buck already has his back to the table, making his way to the bar with the empty pitcher.

*** 9-1-1 ***

Tommy watches Evan leave the table, uncertain if he’s reading the other man correctly. Evan’s body language, how he kept leaning closer, had Tommy think he was interested.  Tommy reciprocated, putting a hand on Evan’s shoulder.  He was drawn, like a moth to a flame, but the way Evan all but ran from the table had Tommy second guessing.

He knows next to nothing about Evan, beyond the fact that he has a proclivity for ill advised hook ups, and that he’s got good instincts on the job.  In all likelihood the man is straight, or deeply closeted, and making a move on his friend’s coworker was not a smart choice.

Oscar and Maria turn their stares from Evan’s retreating form back to him.  Tommy leans back and shrugs.  They don’t comment any further and return to their conversation, so Tommy figures this sort of behaviour might be par for the course with Evan.

He turns to Sal.  “So, I guess letting your probie out on calls is working out?”

Sal shrugs.  “Kid works hard, makes solid calls, and is great at improvisation.  He’s a little impulsive, but give him a little experience and he’s going to be one hell of a firefighter.”

“That’s high praise from Lieutenant Deluca,” Tommy says, mirroring his earlier words.  “That’s a far cry from wanting to get the kid fired.  I’m guessing the sexcapades are under control.”

“The kid just needed a firm hand and a little direction,” Sal explains.  “I have him training during his downtime at the station.  Giving him an outlet for his energy is doing wonders.”

Tommy huffs a laugh.  “Glad it’s working out for you.  Definitely feels like you landed on your feet with the transfer.”

Sal’s smile drops, and his eyes narrow a little.  “Don’t say this to Nash, but the transfer was probably the kindest thing he could have done for me.  I needed the kick in the ass to get my head on straight, and I’m going to make Captain soon.”

“Oh really?  With such confidence, too.”  Tommy’s eyebrows raise in response.

“Between you and I,” Sal starts in a hushed tone, “Captain Warren is retiring in about 12 months.  I’ve already written the captain’s exams, and he’s prepping me to take over when he steps down.”

Reaching across the table, Sal grabs Tommy by the forearm. “I could use a good Lieutenant when that happens.  The 118 can’t be as much fun without me there.”

Tommy looks down at where Sal’s hand is on his arm before flicking back up to meet Sal’s eyes.  He’s ready to offer up a hundred and one reasons why it would be a bad idea.  He doesn’t want to work his way up the ranks. He doesn’t want to leave the 118.  He’d rather have Sal as a friend than a colleague.  He’s saved from providing a response by Evan returning and slamming another pitcher of beer on the table.

The force of the gesture sends Sal’s half-full pint glass tipping over, beer flooding into Sal’s arm and off the table into his lap.  Conveniently, Tommy manages to avoid the spill, and he would deny his quick reflexes had anything to do with tipping the rickety table away from him.

Evan wears a look of absolute horror on his face. 

Sal stands up with enough force to send his chair clattering behind him. 

Oscar is already up from their table flagging down a staff member for some napkins.

“Shit, Buckley!” Sal yells, loud enough to make the bar go quiet.  “For someone so coordinated in the field you are the clumsiest mother fucker I know.  I should send you my dry cleaning bill.”

Evan, to his credit, does not grab the napkins and immediately try to pat Sal down.  He hands a wad to Sal to clean himself up, and uses the rest to start mopping up the spill. 

“Like you own anything that needs dry cleaning,” Gabriel calls out.  “And don’t think we haven’t caught you trying to sneak your civies into the station laundry.”

The comment brings a smile to Sal’s face, no shame at being called out.  “Fair enough.  I guess this is my sign to clear out.  Gina will be happy to have me home early, even if I do end up smelling like a brewery.”

Sal pulls his wallet out of his damp pocket and holds it up for the team to see.  “I’m going to clear our tab.  Next round is on our Probie to make up for his lack of house training.  Make sure to order something top shelf.”

Maria, Oscar and Gabriel cheer as Sal walks to the bar to pay down the tab, then grab the pitcher already on the table and split it between the three of them.  Maria holds the empty pitcher up, and shakes it at Evan. 

Evan grabs it without a word, and brings it back to the bar where Sal is standing.  He says something to Sal, but Tommy can’t hear it over the sounds of the bar.  Sal shakes his head eyes full of mirth, and whatever he says clearly puts Evan at ease, because the kid has a smile on his face once again when he comes back with another pitcher. 

Setting it down with more care this time, Evan takes a seat again next to Tommy.  Tommy knocks their legs together under the table, and offers the kid a smile.  “You know, if you wanted to get my attention there are better ways to go about it.”

Tag List: @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66 - drop me a comment if you want to be added

@disaster-j - not quite toxic BuckTommy, but your post had me reworking this chapter to lay more ground work.

[letsdosciencetoit]

100% the vibe I'm going for with my S1 AU. Closeted Tommy meets Buck 1.0.

Toxic BT au where they meet when Buck is still sleeping around and Tommy is still a little bit in the closet. Young and reckless Buck who feels drawn to Tommy. Who will nod along to Tommy's "this is the last time" as he puts his hand down his pants in a bar bathroom. Scared yet secretly hopeful Tommy who pretends to believe Buck when he says "it doesn't have to mean anything" while he's taking the younger man apart in the back of his car. Tommy who says "it's not serious, we're just having fun, you can do whatever you want" and then gets possessive and growly when he spots Buck flirting with random people. Buck who says "i don't need a relationship, i don't like monogamy anyways" but won't actually sleep with anyone other than Tommy....

[letsdosciencetoit]

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Chapter 3

Summary: Tommy doesn't take the step to transfer to Harbor Station. Without a vacant spot at the 118, Buck is hired on to the 122 instead. How do things change without the influence of the 118 on Buck's early career, and how does Tommy handle remaining in the closet.

Chapter 3 Summary - Buck experiences a rough call, and Tommy is confronted with his past.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

On AO3: I'm Where the Spiders Go

Chapter 3 - Encountering Defeat- 3814 Words - Chapter rating, T. Overall rating will be E.

January 2018

Buck feels like he’s found his rhythm within the station.  More often than not he partners with Sal on calls, but occasionally he’ll join up with Maria or Oscar for a medical call to get more experience. 

It was mid morning when he was sent out with Oscar and Maria for a basic medical call. Maria is driving, and Buck finds himself in the back of the ambulance transporting a patient with suspected myocardial infarction.

The patient has already chewed two aspirin at the direction of dispatch and they’ve given him nitroglycerin.  Oscar is getting the patient hooked up to the Lifepak when he starts complaining of additional chest pain. 

“I’m going to get these leads hooked up to monitor you on the way to the hospital,” Oscar says, “Then we can talk about getting you something to make you more comfortable.”

“It really hurts,” the man complains as Oscar places the last of the leads and turns on the Lifepak.  To Buck, the rhythm looks normal, but the way Oscar’s eyes widen lets Buck know things are less than ideal.

“How long have you been experiencing chest pain?” Oscar asks, presenting a face of calm to the patient. 

The man’s skin appears paler, and it’s starting to get clammy.  He’s breathless as he answers, “I woke up with it this morning around 6am.  I thought it was heart burn.”

Oscar nods, even as he turns back to yell at Maria who is driving the ambulance.  “We need to reroute to LA General. He’s going to need PCI right away.”

“Roger that, Oscar.”  The radio clicks, and Maria reaches out to dispatch.  “RA 122, Dispatch.  Show us in route to LA general.  Patient’s Anterior STEMI. He’s going to need immediate PCI. Let the hospital know it’s been less than 6 hours since symptom onset.”

Buck is focused on what Maria is saying, but his attention is quickly brought back to the patient, who lets out a groan.  The mans eyes roll to back and his eyelids flutter before the ECG leads alert them to the patient going into Vfib.

“Start CPR,” Oscar orders, as he hooks up the leads for the defibrillator pads. Buck is already in position, arms locked, hands splayed over the man’s sternum.  Despite practicing on the dummy at the academy, it doesn’t feel the same on a real person, and Buck can’t get over the force needed for the compressions.

Oscar swings into place with the vent mask, sliding it over the patient’s mouth. He starts squeezing the bag to push air into the man’s lungs while Buck keeps up a fast, steady pace with the compressions in the moving vehicle.

The Lifepak calls out in its tinny, automated voice, “Shock advised.  Stand clear.”

Buck pulls back from the gurney, arms up, while Oscar does the same.

“Clear,” Buck acknowledges, and Oscar confirms as well, “Clear.”

Oscar hits the button to administer the first shock.  They wait a moment, but the rhythm comes back in V.fib. 

Buck is immediately back with compressions, strong and steady, while Oscar gets an IV inserted in the man’s hand.  As soon as the IV is in place, Oscar motions for them to switch so Buck can take a turn bagging the patient.  Two minutes pass in what feels like an eternity. They pause for a pulse check, and the Lifepak declares, “Shock advised.  Stand clear.”

“Clear,” Buck and Oscar both confirm, standing back from the patient before administering the next shock.  The patient remains in cardiac arrest.

Oscar moves back to start compressions, calling to Buck, “Start IV push of epinephrine.

Buck looks back at him, eyes wide.  “I don’t think I’m certified to do that.”

“Fuck,” Oscar swears, before pulling away and moving to the med box.  “Switch with me.  Keep up compressions.  Maria, how far out are we?”

“Still 8 minutes out,” she calls back, eyes focused on the road.

Buck takes over compressions again, watches as Oscar pushes the epi.  Another two minutes pass, another shock, but the patient remains in V.fib.  Buck continues the compressions while Oscar preps the next round of medications.  They should be switching compressors every two minutes, but Buck isn’t certified for the rest, and he’s already starting to feel the strain.

Another two minutes pass. Another pulse check.  Another shock.  Another push of epinepherine. Oscar takes over compressions for another round, while Buck ventilates the patient.  Another two minutes, pulse check, shock, Oscar pulls back to push a second dose of amiodarone. Buck takes over compressions, two minutes out from the hospital.

Pulse check comes again, but the Lifepak calls out “No shock advised.”

“Fuck,” Oscar swears again, getting ready to push another dose of epinephrine.  Buck continues the compressions, sweat beading on his brow, as they pull into the ambulance bay.  Buck continues as they unload the patient from the ambulance.

He can hear Oscar explaining the situation as they pull in, “Patient’s been in cardiac arrest for 14 minutes.  Patient was in V.fib, but went into asystole two minutes ago.”

The hospital staff take over, and Buck is quickly helped off the gurney so one of their staff can take over.  Buck stands in the bay, body unwilling to move as the gurney is wheeled out of sight.  He takes a deep breath, and forces it out through his nose.  He takes another deep breath and lets it out more slowly.

Oscar nudges their shoulders together. “Let’s go, Buck.  We did everything we could here.”

Nodding, Buck follows Oscar back onto the ambulance. 

“99% of patients who achieve return of spontaneous circulation do so within 44 minutes of starting CPR, but most hospitals will stop after 20-30 minutes, especially in the case of asystole,” Buck feels compelled to point out once they’re back inside the ambulance.

“You must be fun at parties,” Maria points out, pulling the ambulance out of the bay.  The tone is teasing, but it shuts Buck up.  Instead, Buck focuses cleaning up the back, tossing the used supplies and putting equipment that doesn’t need to be sterilized back in place.

“Ignore Maria,” Oscar says quietly.  “She tends to get sarcastic after a rough call, and she hates driving the bus rather than helping on the call.”

Buck remains silent, not wanting to say anything against a colleague.

“You did good there, Buck,” Oscar continued, offering reassurance.  “You were calm under pressure, even when I asked you to do something you couldn’t. We kept the patient’s blood flowing, and got him to a site that can give him thrombolytics and anything else he might need.  Survival rates after a heart attack like that are actually pretty good, especially since he went into arrest in the ambulance. It’s something like 90% survival rates.”

Buck shrugs.  Oscars right, Buck knows.  Of all of the places to go into cardiac arrest, on the ambulance with trained paramedics was probably the best place. Still, he can’t help but feel like he could have done more.  Maybe Maria would have caught the issue sooner, or if she’d been back there, able to push the first round of epi that much sooner, the patient wouldn’t have lost rhythm.

Instead of voicing this Buck shares, “It’s actually around a 7-12% one year mortality rate after a STEMI.  I’m assuming that’s what it was.  A widow maker?”

Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, it was a widow maker. Maria’s right though, you would clean up at trivia.  You ever go out?”

From the front of the ambulance, Maria calls out, “If you’re interested, I call dibs on you for my team.  We might actually stand a chance at beating those fucking librarians.”

“I love trivia,” Buck says with a laugh.  “And having a library scientist on your team is an unfair advantage.  I dated I librarian my first time in California.  I would go out for trivia with her and her colleagues.  I’m pretty sure they just kept me around as eye candy, though.”

Buck leans into the camaraderie on the drive home, and it’s almost enough to distract himself from the uncertain outcome of their last call.

*** 9-1-1 ***

Buck is staring absently at the cup of coffee in front of him when Sal finally approaches him.  Buck’s been expecting it; Sal usually makes a point of checking in on him after he’s been out without the lieutenant.

Sal has his own cup of coffee when he sits down next to Buck. “Tough call?”

Buck shakes his head.  “It shouldn’t have been.  It’s not the first time we’ve lost someone on a call.”

“So far when we’ve shown up we’re usually too late to do anything,” Sal points out.  “It’s a whole different kettle of fish when someone codes on you.  Oscar tells me you were a consummate professional.”

Buck scoffs.  “’Consummate professional’ my ass.”

“Maybe not in so many words.” Sal admits with a low chuckle. “But he did say you did everything you were supposed to.  Not much more you can do in this kind of situation, so what’s eating you?”

Buck looks into his mug, trying to put words to what he’s feeling.  He picks it up with both hands and takes a sip before responding.  “He was conscious when we picked him up, and I have no idea if they were able to resuscitate him at the hospital.  I keep replaying it in my head, wondering if there was more we could have done to stop him from coding, or get him back before we got to there.”

Sal reached over and gave Buck’s shoulder a squeeze.  “No point in dwelling on the what ifs.  You followed protocol, did everything you should, and handed the patient off to the hospital.  There’s a reason they tell us not to go past the doors.  Worrying about what happens next is just borrowing “

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Buck agrees, but his heart isn’t in it. 

Sal obviously catches it Buck’s hesitation, if his frown is any indication.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but I’m going to make you man behind for the next call.  I don’t think your head is in the game.”

It’s hard not to take it the wrong way, and even a month ago Buck might have argued with Sal, but Buck can tell Sal has a point.  He can’t shake not knowing what happened, and he’s going to be distracted if they get called out.

Nodding once, Buck dumps the rest of his coffee down the sink.  “I’m going to head to the bunks.”

Sal watches him walk away, impressed that Buck didn’t fight him on it.

*** 9-1-1 ***

They’re wrapping up a traffic accident on what feels like one of the longest shifts Tommy’s had in a while. They’re only 8 hours into their 24,  but the calls have been crazy enough that Tommy wants to check if they’re nearing a full moon.

He doesn’t believe in superstations, but it’s the only thing he can think of that would account for the absurdity of the day.  Between the baby in the wall and the snake hoarder – collector, she had protested – Tommy’s grateful that their fourth call only involves cars.  At least no one was seriously injured, and it’s just a matter of getting anyone who needed to be shipped out before they head back to the station.

Tommy stands by the truck, waiting for the all clear from Bobby.  He thinks about heading to chat with Chimney when he sees Hen take a call on her cell phone. Hen isn’t usually one to take a personal call in the field, and Tommy’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“What’s up, Thena,”  Hen says into the phone.  Tommy’s interest is peaked, because it’s not every day Hen takes a call from a police sergeant while at work.  Hen chuckles a little into the phone.  “Um, it’s kind of in use at the moment.  Why?”

Tommy cocks his head to the side, watching the interaction. Hen shakes her head, and tells Athena, “Ladder truck is still at the station, but no one there who can drive it.”

Hen says on the phone a few moments longer, hanging up only after she says, “Good luck.”

“What was that about?” Tommy asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Athena has a minor trapped in a house with an active burglary in progress,” Hen explained.  “She was looking to borrow one of the rigs to help pinpoint the house.”

“And she called you?”  Tommy isn’t trying to sound confrontational, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of situation that would warrant a personal phone call.

“We’re close to the location and she has me on speed dial,” Hen responded with a raised eyebrow.  “Doesn’t matter, though.  She said dispatch as able to connect with the 122, and they’re sending their man behind.”

If Hen noticed the way Tommy’s face paled at the mention of dispatch and the 122, she was kind enough not to point it out.

 Since dispatch was reaching out directly to the 122 to borrow a rig, Tommy knows exactly who was involved in the call.

*** 9-1-1 ***

Buck has taken it upon himself to clean the washrooms while the station is out on a call because his hands are fidgety and he needs something to do.  Buck considers himself lucky that the team is neater than his room mates in the common areas.  Bathroom cleaning is more wipe down and disinfect than a more strenuous scrubbing.

Putting away the supplies, Buck looks at the duty roster and contemplates what else he can work on before everyone gets back.  He finds himself gravitating towards the kitchen.  There’s a pot of chili already simmering for dinner, as well as a recipe card for corn bread stuck to the fridge door.

It looks pretty straight forward, and Buck is about to go to the pantry to pull the ingredients when hears his phone ringing.

Almost no one calls any more, so Buck figures it must be important.  He fishes his phone out of his pocket, and answers with a “Yeah?”

“Buck,” Sal’s voice comes strong across the line.  “I’m gonna need you to take the ladder truck out to Lambert Road, Winnetka.  They have a robbery in progress but the kid inside the house can’t confirm the address.  They want to use a rig to find her location.”

Heart pounding in his chest, Buck asks, “You sure I’m allowed to take the ladder truck out without supervision?”

“Extenuating circumstances, kid,”  Sal is quick to fire back.  “Sounds like that kid’s pretty scared.  Head out quick as you can, and connect with Sergeant Grant. I’ve given Abby at dispatch your number, so she’ll connect with you when you’re in route.  Good luck.”

Sal hangs up the call before Buck can ask any more questions. 

Not wasting any time, Buck rushes to the ladder truck and climbs into the drivers seat.  He’s quick to perform the checks he learned before he opens the bay door and drives the truck onto the street.  He flips the siren on, and then he’s flying down the street.

He spots the cruiser as soon as he reaches the neighbourhood.  Sergeant Grant rolls her window down and gives him a once over.    “You know what you’re supposed to be doing?”

“Yes Ma’am,’ Buck agrees.

Sergeant Grant shakes her head, muttering “Yes ma’am” under her breath before speaking to him again.  “No heroics, you hear me. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.”

Tipping his head to one side, Buck’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t know what that means.”

Sergeant Grant shook her head.  “Just drive the damn truck.”

*** 9-1-1 ***

Tommy sat in the bunks, staring at the blank phone screen.  He’d been quiet all afternoon, wondering about the outcome of the robbery call.  He knows he could reach out to Sal and find out, but the idea of asking him to give out any information relating to Abby, no matter how tangentially, seems disingenuous.

Pressing the power button, Tommy pulls up his text conversation with Sal.  He looks at the last message, then turns the phone off and sets it on the bed.  A moment later he picks it up and looks at the messages again.  His thumbs hover over the keyboard, but he turns it off without typing anything.

He pulls the news up instead of texting, but doesn’t see anything relevant.  He refreshes the app, and nothing new comes up.  He turns the phone off again, and sets it down, but his hands are restless.  He can’t help but grab the phone again, his fingers clenching around it.  The urge to throw it against the wall, and watch it shatter into glass and component parts is strong, but he’s stopped by the sound of bubble gum popping.

Looking up, Tommy sees Chimney enter the bunks.  Chimney fixes him with a stare, chews his gum, and lets another obnoxious bubble snap.  “You’ve been awfully quiet since we got back from the last call. You hardly touched dinner.”

Tommy huffed, not wanting to have this conversation.  “You checking up on me, Chimney?  Making sure I eat my peas and carrots?”

“Fuck off, Kinard,” Chimney snapped back, shoving him in the shoulder with one first before sitting down on the bunk across from him.  “Something’s eating you tonight.  What is it?”

“Did Hen send you?”  Tommy asked, trying to deflect. 

“No, you asshole. Hen did not send me.”  Chimney cocked his head to one side and gave him an assessing look.  “Is it that hard for you to believe I want to make sure my friend is okay?”

Tommy doesn’t say he’s not used to anyone caring about him enough to check in.  He doesn’t say he usually doesn’t let people in enough to know there’s anything to check in on.  He doesn’t say anything in response.

Letting out a sigh, Chimney lays down flat on the bunk, his feet still on the floor.  He doesn’t look at Tommy when he speaks, more a personal musing than an accusation when he says, “Hen mentioned you got a little quiet when she took the call from Athena this afternoon.”

Tommy lets out a sigh of his own, and flops back on his own bunk.  “So Hen did send you up here.”

“No, you contrary little shit,” Chimney huffs out, laughter in his voice.  “Hen made an observation, and I decided it was worth checking in on you, because you’re my friend.”

Even after all the years they’ve worked together, Tommy still isn’t sure why Chimney decided he was friend ship material.  From the get go, he’d been an ass to Chimney, just trying to fit in with everyone else, to fly under the radar.  Chimney hadn’t had that option, too visibly outside the mould, so he had done his best to prove he deserved to be there as much as anyone else.

Tommy’s glad Eli had taken Chimney under his wing. Chances were Tommy wouldn’t be alive if Eli hadn’t.  He owes Chimney his life.  He figures the least he can do is give Chimney a little honesty.

“I was engaged,” he tells Chimney, without any preamble. 

He doesn’t look over at where Chimney sits upright, sputtering and trying to find words.

“When?” Chimney finally manages to ask.

“We split about a year ago,” Tommy offers, still laying back looking at the ceiling.  “We were engaged for two years.  Never planned the wedding because her mom got sick.”

“How did I not now about this!” Chimney exclaims, leaning forward to try to catch Tommy’s expression.

“No one knew,” Tommy replies.  “No one but Sal, anyway. His girlfriend Gina introduced us, actually.”

“You had a whole fiancée, and you never told us? I thought we were friends.”  Chimney’s indignation is tinged with amusement.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, Tommy continues lying back. He wants to shield himself from Chimney’s stare. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I tend to play things pretty close to the vest.”

This has Chimney letting out a soft snort of laughter.  “No shit, Kinard.  Mr. Monster Trucks, Craft Beer and Romcoms who wouldn’t give me the time of day until I saved your life.  Suddenly I’m a lot less surprised by this turn of events.”

Chimney pauses, giving Tommy space to speak. 

When Tommy doesn’t continue, Chimney asks, “So what has us up here taking this trip down memory lane?”

“Her name was Abby.  Absolutely wonderful woman who works out of Metro Dispatch,” Tommy shares.  “When Hen took the call from Sergeant Grant and then told me the request was relayed to the 122 through dispatch… I just know she must have been the one on the call.  Man, I was such an asshole to her.”

Chimney paused a breath, still watching Tommy.  “Asshole does seem to be a bit of your default state, but you make this sound way worse.”

Tommy took a deep breath in, weighing whether he wanted to share with Chimney, and how much.  Fuck it, he decides. He can share almost everything without giving away the core issue.  “Abby is amazing.  Gorgeous, kind, and whip smart.  She was the kind of woman you would be proud to bring home to your parents.”

Under his breath, Chimney muttered, “I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

Knowing Chimney’s mother had passed and that he did not have a relationship with his father, Tommy decided not to draw attention to Chimney’s comment.  Instead, he continued. “Abby was everything I should have wanted on paper, but when her mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s that became everything to her.  I tried to support her as best I could.  I’d spend time with her mother when I was off shift.

“We hit the point where the whole relationship felt like a box I was trying to check off, and less like building something with the person I planned to love for the rest of my life.  Her mom hit the point of needing around the clock care, and when Abby suggested we move her mom into my place I just…” Tommy trailed off.  He let out another sigh, and sat up.  “I just couldn’t keep pretending to be some one I’m not.  I didn’t want to lie to her anymore, so I ended things when she was a the worst point in her life.  I was an asshole.”

Tommy looked at Chimney, expecting to see judgement in his eyes. Instead, Chimney was staring at his hands, clearly lost in thought.  They sat together silence for a minute before Chimney finally met his eyes.  “Sometimes there’s conflict you can work through, and sometimes it’s an irreconcilable difference.  You’re not an asshole for choosing your own happiness.”

They continue sitting together in silence until the claxon rings, signaling another call.

Tag List: @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66 - drop me a comment if you want to be added

[letsdosciencetoit]

WIP Wednesday - Today's Emotions

I've been focusing primarily on I'm Where the Spiders Go to keep up with a weekly posting schedule, but I haven't forgotten about the Sun in the Afternoon prequel (aka how Tommy and Buck ended up back together and secretly married).

Here's a little snippet of that.

Today's Emotions

Buck didn't recind his transfer request. He didn't lie about it to the rest of the team, he simply didn't mention it to them.  Chimney put in for captaincy, but there was no clear successor after Gerrards last shift, so the news of Buck's reassignment just sat in a file, unread.

Buck has it on good authority that they already had someone lined up to take his spot at the 118, so they wouldn't be short when he left.

On his last shift, he quietly packed up his locker into the duffle bag. Ravi raised his eyebrows when he saw, but no one else noticed.  Buck he walked out without even a good bye.  He knew it was petty, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about it.  He couldn't bring himself to feel much at all.

He got his bag into the back of the Jeep when Ravi caught up to him.

"Breakfast?" Ravi asks. 

Buck looks at the back of the Jeep.  He has his duffle and a few camping supplies.  He's got no where to go once he leaves, so he shrugs.  "The usual place?"

Ravi nods, wearing a relieved smile.  "Sure.  I'll meet you there."

[letsdosciencetoit]

Little Sunday Snippet- I'm Where the Spiders Go

Working on chapter 3 - It was supposed to be the chapter where Buck and Tommy meet, but instead I've got 1300 words written of a medical call.

Did I spend as much time refreshing myself on the ACLS protocol and researching the scope of practice of paramedics in LA, why yes, I did.

So, instead of anything with Tommy, please enjoy a little snippet of Sal talking to Buck in the aftermath of the call.

I'm Where The Spiders Go - Snippet

Buck is staring absently at the cup of coffee in front of him when Sal finally approaches him.  Buck’s been expecting it; Sal usually makes a point of checking in on him after he’s been out without the lieutenant.

Sal has his own cup of coffee when he sits down next to Buck. “Tough call?”

Buck shakes his head.  “It shouldn’t have been.  It’s not the first time we’ve lost someone on a call.”

“So far when we’ve shown up we’re usually too late to do anything,” Sal points out.  “It’s a whole different kettle of fish when someone codes on you.  Oscar tells me you were a consummate professional.”

Buck scoffs.  “'Consummate professional’ my ass.”

“Maybe not in so many words.” Sal admits with a low chuckle. “But he did say you did everything you were supposed to.  Not much more you can do in this kind of situation, so what’s eating you?”

Buck looks into his mug, trying to put words to what he’s feeling.  He picks it up with both hands and takes a sip before responding.  “He was conscious when we picked him up, and I have no idea if they were able to resuscitate him at the hospital.  I keep replaying it in my head, wondering if there was more we could have done to stop him from coding, or get him back before we got to there.”

Sal reached over and gave Buck’s shoulder a squeeze.  “No point in dwelling on the what ifs.  You followed protocol, did everything you should, and handed the patient off to the hospital.  There’s a reason they tell us not to go past the doors.  Worrying about what happens next is just borrowing “

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Buck agrees, but his heart isn’t in it. 

Sal obviously catches it Buck’s hesitation, if his frown is any indication.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but I’m going to make you man behind for the next call.  I don’t think your head is in the game.”

It’s hard not to take it the wrong way, and even a month ago Buck might have argued with Sal, but Buck can tell Sal has a point.  He can’t shake not knowing what happened, and he’s going to be distracted if they get called out.

Nodding once, Buck dumps the rest of his coffee down the sink.  “I’m going to head to the bunks.”

Sal watches him walk away, impressed that Buck didn’t fight him on it.

Tag List: @teabroomsandbooks, @adian-ua, @chococara25, @chemistry66 - drop me a comment if you want to be added