botheredbuck - Tumblr blog

botheredbuck · 14 days ago

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It’s not on the smut prompt list - but! This is giving major salbucktommy vibes….

https://www.tumblr.com/vamplire/777141142408003584/two-vampires-feeding-from-the-same-human-on-either?source=share

"two vampires feeding from the same human on either side of their neck while locking eyes lustfully has me nodding my head like yup that’s the good shit right there"

(Yeah so this is a vampire fic with some blood drinking but it's less sexy than it should be, because it's Sal's POV and Sal is sawft.)

They've been everywhere together, his Tommy and him. Sal found him left for dead on a battlefield outside a scrap of nothing town in Belgium, and this beautiful man had raised bleeding, shaking fingers to his cheek and smiled. After, once Tommy had risen again and fed for the first time, Sal asked him why he'd been smiling if he was about to die.

"I'd been in a trench for three months," Tommy says, shrugging. "I was happy I was going to die looking at something beautiful."

His Tommy's too sweet and soft for war. He gets him the fuck out of there, something he'd been trying to do for a while. He'd left Pennsylvania in 1909 and started traveling, and he'd been stuck in Europe when some Austrian got himself shot and threw the whole world into hell.

They go where they can, wherever they feel like being. It's easy enough to avoid hunters, because they don't do stupid shit like start death cults or hunt for sport. They hunt to live, trying to stick to the worst of the worst if they're going to drain them completely. For them, the draw isn't the kill, it's each other. They survive for another night together and do that every night until the decades pass and then a century.

It's around the century mark that they end up in Los Angeles, because Tommy got nostalgic for California. And they're wandering past a bar when they spot him.

He's got a smile like the sunlight neither of them has seen in decades. He's laughing with a small group of people, and they're all heading off in pairs toward the cars parked along the street. Then it's just him.

He looks at his phone, glances around, and his shoulders slump a little.

"Waiting for someone?" Tommy asks, startling the kid a little.

"No," he says, smiling. "Just didn't really want to go home."

Tommy chats with the kid a while, and Sal crosses the road after a bit to slip into the conversation. He's sweet, impossibly young, adorable, and he should probably be as far away from them as possible. But Sal's fangs ache to drop and sink into his neck, to see if he tastes as sweet as he seems.

"You said you guys just got to the city, right?" the kid, Evan, asks.

"Yeah, about a week ago," Sal confirms. "Haven't been here in a while. You from around here? You seem too sweet to be a local."

Evan's cheeks flush with blood that makes him itch to touch. "N-no. I, uh, I'm from Hershey."

Sal smiles, nudges Tommy. "See? That's why I like this kid. Pittsburgh."

Tommy rolls his eyes between the two of them. "God, please tell me you're not all like Sal."

He slings an arm around Tommy's shoulder and kisses his cheek. "You know there ain't no one else like me, baby."

When he pulls back, Evan is looking between them with wide eyes. It's not the shocked homophobia Sal's had to deal with too many times to count, it's the shocked realization of possibility that he's had to get good at spotting.

Oh, they really lucked out.

"Why don't we get off the street?" Sal asks, and Evan stammers out an agreement.

They walk up a few blocks to a brick building, and Evan leads them up to a loft. It's nice, nicer than what Sal would expect. He takes the offered beer, so does Tommy. It doesn't take long for Evan to ask them how long they've been together.

"Oh, forever," Tommy says, smiling and taking Sal's hand.

Sal kisses his fingertips and squeezes. "But not long enough."

Evan smiles, his face tinged with something like longing. "That's--that's great. That's amazing, actually. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever actually get that."

"Sweet boy like you with a face like that? You shouldn't have any trouble," Sal says, smiling so he can see Evan blush again. "You just gotta meet the right guy. Or girl. Whatever you're into."

Evan hesitates before taking a sip of beer. "Yeah."

It takes about forty minutes and several random conversation topics before Evan asks the next question that makes Sal feel like he can already taste him:

"So how did you know you liked guys?"

"I always knew," Sal says, shrugging. "Just wasn't safe back then."

"Same," Tommy agrees. "Hell, we were almost arrested--actually we were that one time."

"Yeah, that was a fun night," Sal says, laughing.

Evan's brows furrow, and he looks between them. "Wait, how old are you guys? I thought that stopped being illegal when I was a kid."

"Older than we look," Sal says smoothly.

"We moisturize," Tommy adds. "And stay out of the sun."

Sal snorts softly before taking another sip of beer.

Another hour later, Sal's watching Tommy kiss Evan so the kid can "see what it's like." Tommy's a good first kiss. He's a lot more gentle, a lot less likely to let it escalate beyond kissing. He can hear the way Evan's heart is pounding. It's cute and unbearably fucking hot.

And then they have to leave, because Evan gets a call from his job. There's some kind of disaster and they need people in immediately.

So they see him again a week later. He comes to the hotel they're staying in, and they don't waste a lot of time before he's sitting between them on the couch and coming to both of them in turn for kisses. But that's where it ends. He has to be up early for work, so he has to leave.

"What the fuck is happening?" Sal wonders when they're alone in the room.

Tommy starts laughing. "I think we're dating him?"

Sal groans, sitting heavily on the couch. "I'm almost two hundred years old, what the fuck does that even mean?"

Tommy sits astride his lap and kisses him. "It means whatever we want it to mean."

"Next time, I'm biting him," Sal says before dragging Tommy down into a kiss.

Next time, they actually see Evan while he's working. They're leaving an alley where they left their dinner, and Evan is helping get a man into an ambulance.

"Well, look at him," Sal murmurs appreciatively. "Those legs."

"The arms," Tommy adds, and Sal hums.

Evan spots them, waves shyly. He says something to the tall man he's with before jogging over.

"What're you guys doing here?" he asks happily.

"Grabbing a bite to eat," Tommy says, and Sal looks skyward for strength.

So the next time they see him after that, Evan is in their room again, and he looks serious when he comes in. Before Sal can ask what's up, there's a cross in his face.

"Okay, so that doesn't actually do anything, it's just offensive," Sal says flatly before he's got Evan pressed against the wall.

He scrapes his fangs over his jugular, bypassing it in favor of pressing his lips to his earlobe.

"Smart boy," he murmurs, and Evan shivers. "Let's see how you taste."

He grabs Evan and drags him to the couch where Tommy's waiting.

"We'll make it good for you," Sal promises.

"It won't even hurt," Tommy says, kissing his neck. "Except at first."

And then they're finally sinking their fangs into him, and the taste of Evan explodes across Sal's tongue. His blood is rich and full of fucking light, like drinking sunshine. He meets Tommy's eyes and sees the way his pupils are dilated, eating up the blue irises.

Between them, Evan lets out a pained gasp and then a whine. Sal's only taken a couple mouthfuls before he feels Evan shake, even though he didn't taste any disease on him. But then he realizes what's happening. He licks over the punctures and then up his neck and across his jaw, grasping his chin firmly.

"Told you we'd make it good for you, beautiful," Sal murmurs before claiming his mouth.

He ends up stretched across their laps with his shirt open and his pants off, littered with bites. His cock is hard and wet in his briefs, and they have to exert some serious self-control to make their fangs retreat so they can take turns licking him through the fabric.

When Evan cums, it's down Sal's throat with Tommy's teeth in his thigh.

After, they call up room service and feed him. He eats from their fingers at first, and then he starts to feed himself. All the while, he's looking between the two of them with huge eyes.

"Out with it," Sal says, able to feel his curiosity.

"Okay, I have so many questions," Evan says, pushing his plate aside, his eyes sparkling. Like the boy on the battlefield a hundred years before.

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botheredbuck · 14 days ago

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god I love your writing thank you for continuing to do this

35 & 3 for salbucktommy please and thank you so much :))

love the use of “doll” and 3 just screamed possessive and protective and I am all up on that shit

also i’m learning how obsessed I am with the potential dynamic between salbucktommy bc in any configuration they’re all so good

this is definitely not two weeks late 👀👀 prompts are "you're not going out in that outfit" and "you better shut that mouth before i put it to work, doll." i tweaked both of them a little to help them scan/because i do what i want lol. and i agree, extremely sal coded.

"Hold up," Sal says, and Buck freezes. Shit. He was so close to getting away with it. "You're not going out in that."

"What?" Buck asks. "It's just a shirt."

"It's my shirt," Sal says, approaching in a way that can best be described as stalking.

"Oh, really?" Buck asks, trying to style it out, craning over his shoulder to try and look at his back, pretending he hasn't pulled this exact move in front of the mirror, that he doesn't know exactly how it looks with DELUCA stamped across his back.

"Yeah, really," Sal says, crowding Buck up against the wall. "You know how you can tell? It's got my name on it, sweetheart."

"Oh," Buck says, shivering at the heated press of Sal's body against his. "Um. Well, I thought - I was gonna pick Tommy up from work."

Sal laughs, bites Buck's shoulder through the material of the shirt. "You little tease."

"I thought he'd l-like it," Buck says, his voice cracking embarrassingly when Sal nudges his legs apart and pushes a knee up between them.

"I'm sure he will. I'm also sure he won't mind if you're a little late."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Buck says. "I think he'd probably be - "

"Give me your phone," Sal tells him. "And stop running that mouth so I can put it to better use, okay, doll?."

To his dying day, Buck will deny the whimper that comes out of him as he practically folds at the knees. He passes his phone up to Sal and finds a better use for his hands, scrabbling at the fly on Sal's jeans. He looks up through his lashes, grins when he sees Sal pointing the phone at him.

"Hey babe," Sal says. "Your ride's gonna be a little late. Ain't that right, kid?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "Sorry 'bout that."

"He's not," Sal tells the recording. "Ask him about the stunt he pulled with my shirt if he tries that innocent shit on you."

"Hey," Buck says, pouting up at the camera. "I've never done anything wrong in my life."

"Yeah?" Sal asks, his free hand coming down to stroke roughly through Buck's hair. "Prove it."

#HELLO

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botheredbuck · 17 days ago

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Imagine Chimney going through Bobby's desk in his office. Having to clear personal things out. It breaks his heart, but also warms him because the captain was sentimental.

Then he comes across a small blue book labeled simply "Buck." Curious, he opens and flips through it.

Kid has eating problems. Will forget to eat when stressed. Feed him, and encourage him to cook, because he likes to taste-test a lot.

Chimney remembers that. Buck mentioning getting so hungry the starving pains go away. He does remember during the shitty times when Buck lost so much weight.

-Loves carbs

-Hates Okra

-Probably allergic to shellfish and mangos. Encourage him to get an allergy test

-Allergic to Naproxen

-Allergic to heavy fragrance laundry detergents. Use gentle.

-Remind him he's doing a great job. Use positive reinforcement.

-If he's depressed, as Maddie says, hand him a child. May and Harry work too.

-He's finally gaining weight! :)

-The Buckley parents are banned. Do not ask why. Firehouse is his safe area.

-He fidgets when he's stressed. Have him chop some vegetables or prepare them for you. He loves being helpful.

-He loves his clipboard. Have him organize important events. Give him gold stars. Do not let Hen and Chimney hide it. He gets sad.

-Remind him not to read too close or in the dark. He's gonna need glasses at this point. (If he does, don't let others tease him. Tell him he looks great)

-He doesn't admit it, but his leg still bothers him. Heating blankets are in the closet in the office. Have Eddie massage his leg or send him home early if he's obviously struggling.

Chim laughs. He laughs, and laughs, and starts to cry. Of all things, he did not expect to find a "How to Take Care of Your Buck" guide hidden away in Bobby's desk.

#okay um sobbing #911

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botheredbuck · 22 days ago

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thank you for all these wonderful fics you're giving us! if you're still taking prompts, could you do 5 and 11 for bucktommy, with bottom tommy (and any kinks of your choice!)

"You’re more than just a one night stand."

"I didn’t know you were so sensitive."

(Oh no this one might be angsty for a bit. But then it's body worship, some praise kink, a little restraining, and sweat/pit kink. Cut because length.)

This time no one needs to pull Tommy over, Buck walks up to him while he's at the register getting coffee. It's the coffee shop, the one he avoided for months.

"Can you add a medium double shot Americano with room?" he asks, sliding over a twenty.

"Of course!" the barista says in a chirpy customer service voice, even though they're barely smiling. Buck does not miss bartending.

"Thanks," Tommy says softly, a little smile flitting across his face as they walk over to wait for their coffee. "I got that for here, though."

Buck shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I can go to a different table or--"

Tommy shakes his head, his own hands going into his hoodie. "No, I was just warning you. In case you had somewhere to be."

"No," he lies. He hasn't bought groceries in a few days, he still has a bookshelf to build, and he thinks his new desk chair might be waiting in the mail room of his building.

But Tommy's smiling at him.

They sit outside with their coffee, and Buck stirs in the turbinado sugar until it's dissolved, his spoon clinking gently against the sides of the cup. He doesn't remember the last time he got coffee at a shop in a real cup and resolves to do it more. It's nice to be out in the world, but maybe it has more to do with the company.

"How've you been?" Tommy asks.

"Honest answer or PR line?" Buck asks, and Tommy snorts softly.

"Give me both. I'm curious," he says, sipping his latte.

"Hm, well," he starts, leaning forward in his seat with his elbows on the table, "I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances, and I'm enjoying the challenge that each new day brings."

Tommy hesitates before taking another sip. "Okay, now do the PR line."

Buck laughs, and Tommy's eyes crinkle as he grins. "So I had to move--again--and I actually like my place. There's not a lot of walls, it's got a big kitchen. And my nephew is perfect, Maddie's actually doing okay, but I'm still worried about her all the time. Chimney's going to be captain. I revoked my transfer request, which I think I shouldn't have done, because I still feel like I'm not really there when I'm there. I miss Bobby so much that time doesn't really feel real anymore, and they already imposed lockdown flour restrictions on me at the Ralph's by my new place."

A hand reaches across and takes his, and Buck realizes Tommy's blurry and blinks away the tears stinging his eyes.

"So, all things considered: better than expected," Tommy says gently, and Buck laughs again.

He hasn't laughed this much without having to force it out in a while.

"So how are you doing?" he asks, not letting go of Tommy's hand. Tommy doesn't seem to be in a rush to take it back.

"Well," he says, thinking for a moment, "I started flying again a couple weeks ago. Though it's with the explicit instructions that I can't steal helicopters anymore. Planes, though, that's another story. Uh, my cousin broke out in hives so bad this year that I had to take in his cat for a month. So now I'm in the market for a cat. I finished landscaping my yards, so I've run out of renovations to do. I also have been banned from drinking on the Deluca premises until further notice because Gina says she can't keep dealing with the crying--from either of us. Sal's actually taking the loss worse than he'd lead anyone to believe, no matter what he says."

Buck squeezes his hand. "So, better than expected?"

"No, I'm a mess," Tommy says, squeezing his hand back.

"I'm sorry I didn't respond to you. I just--I was dealing--"

"You don't owe me your feelings, Evan, good or bad," Tommy says, his other hand scooping up Buck's so it's being sandwiched between his palms. "So don't worry about it."

Buck feels like a big chasm is standing between him and what he wants and what would make him happy, and Tommy is there on the other side. And maybe it's not as hard to get across as it feels like.

"I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to bother you," he admits. "I-I just--I wanted to take care of everyone."

"You're part of 'everyone,'" Tommy points out gently. "And you don't bother me. I--maybe this is too much? But I'll take what I can get with you. Friendship might be an adjustment, but it's better than just sitting and wondering if you're okay. I was willing to be a one night stand--"

"You're more than just a one night stand, Tommy," he says, settling his hand on top of Tommy's. "I was willing to settle for that and pretend it didn't have to mean anything. But that night--I finally felt like I was home. And it had nothing to do with the furniture or the walls or anything. It was you."

Tommy's eyes are looking between Buck's, and he looks just as terrified as Buck feels. "So when you said--what you said, you weren't talking about me."

"No. I don't--maybe? I don't know. I was so pissed at the idea that you'd think I'd be in love with someone else, especially--" He cuts himself off and hunches his shoulders but doesn't pull his hands back. "Look, I know I got my second chance a long time ago, but maybe there's room in there for a third?"

"For most people? No," Tommy says, and Buck's heartbeat kicks up several beats per minute. "For you? Yeah. As long as you'll give me one."

Buck scrambles to sit in the chair perpendicular to Tommy's and scoots in until their knees are pressed together, and he immediately clasps Tommy's hands again. "I will give you everything. I'll do whatever it takes--"

He's cut off by a kiss, and Buck almost makes a really embarrassing noise. As it is, he's ready to climb into Tommy's lap and never leave.

"My new place is nearby," he says when he forces himself to pull away. "You wanna see it?"

Tommy grins, nudging their noses together. "Depends. You got the bed set up this time?"

"Find out," Buck murmurs before kissing him again.

His place is so close that he'd actually walked, though it had been about twenty minutes away. Tommy drives, compliments the building, and Buck pulls him inside and into the elevator. He knows there's a camera in the corner, doesn't care. They've probably seen worse than one guy slamming another one up against the wall and kissing him.

When they get to his floor, Buck lets them in and tries to make a quip about showing him around, but Tommy lifts him up and holds him against the wall next to his door, cutting him off with another kiss.

"Bedroom?" Tommy asks, and Buck gestures to the right. He holds on tight, and Tommy grins at him. "I got you, don't worry."

"I didn't have extra baking weight last time you did this," Buck says, because he'd finally explained the baking in the truck when Tommy has asked what the fuck the flour thing was about.

"No, you didn't," Tommy agrees, sitting him on the edge of the counter in his kitchen and grinning at him. "I like it."

Buck flushes. "Yeah?"

"God, yeah. All of it. You're perfect." Then he hitches Buck up more, holding him higher up than before. "Besides, what's the point of working out if I can't carry around a beautiful boy?"

He feels his face grow even hotter, and he kisses Tommy all the way to the bedroom. When he gets set down on the bed, he starts stripping off his clothes as Tommy does the same.

"Yeah, look at you," Tommy murmurs, squeezing the swell of his pec and climbing onto his lap. "Do you have any idea how much I want you?"

Buck looks down at where his cock is pressing against his belly and then back up at his face. "A little."

Tommy curls his hand under his jaw and kisses him, urging him onto his back. His other hand trails over Buck's chest and arms and belly and down the side of his hip as they kiss. Then his fingers thread between Buck's, and he lifts his hand up above their heads, pressing it against the mattress as he rolls their hips together.

Buck wants to flip them over and put his mouth all over Tommy, but he's enjoying this too much. He feels sexy and loved and worshipped, like he's Tommy's again.

"'M I yours again?" he asks.

"Always mine," Tommy says, his mouth against Buck's neck. "Always yours, always mine."

Then he keeps kissing along Buck's neck and clavicle, but instead of going to his chest, he veers off and sticks his face in Buck's armpit, which tickles and makes him jump a little.

"Didn't know you were so sensitive," Tommy teases.

"It's ticklish," Buck protests.

"Get used to it," Tommy says, nuzzling the edge of his armpit. "Because if you weren't wearing deodorant, I'd live in here right now."

Buck bites his lip, reflexively almost calls Tommy a weirdo, but it's sort of hot. He always liked burying his face in the crease of Tommy's groin or between his pecs, so it can't be that different.

"I can shower," he offers.

"After," Tommy says, kissing him and grinding against him. "Need to get you dirty first."

Buck looks down between them, can't see their cocks, but he can feel Tommy, all hard and thick and getting slick from sweat and their precum. And he's kind of liking this possessive thing they've got going on right now. He wants to be marked all over with Tommy's cum, wants to smell like him.

"What?" Tommy asks, nipping at his lip.

"C-can you hold me down and fuck my face?" he asks, licking his lips.

Tommy freezes and blinks at him. "I mean, that's a lot to ask a guy."

Buck slaps his ass. "Shut up and get up here."

Soon enough, his hands are pinned over his head and Tommy's cock is between his lips and going back and back until Buck has to tip his head back a little. Tommy shifts, keeps sliding in until he's pressing past the opening of Buck's throat.

"Good boy," Tommy grunts, and Buck feels himself leak precum. "Wiggle your fingers." Buck does as he's told and Tommy smiles at him. "Just do that if you need me to stop."

Buck waits until the head of his cock is between his lips to nod. "'Kay."

"Fuck, I missed you," Tommy sighs, and Buck wiggles his fingers a little. Tommy pulls back immediately and starts to let go, but Buck holds fast.

"J-just--I missed you, too," Buck says, smiling up at him. "Okay. Keep going."

Tommy laughs as he feeds his cock back in, and Buck loses himself in it for a long time until drool starts leaking out of the corners of his mouth and he feels like he's in a blissful state of pure calm.

"You want me to cum on your face?" Tommy asks, panting, and Buck hums. "Close your eyes, baby."

Buck does as he's told, even though he wants to see. But he's learned the hard way to not risk it and enjoys the feeling of cum pulsing over his mouth and cheeks. Some does land right below his eye, and Tommy's quick to wipe it away. When he's done, he lets go of Buck's hands and scoots back and down until he's sucking Buck's aching cock. He doesn't last long and barely gets a warning out before he's cumming over Tommy's tongue.

When Tommy comes back up, he licks Buck's face clean and kisses him, wrapping him up in his arms.

"I like this place," Tommy comments after several long beats of silence. "It's so bright."

Buck smiles, because one of the selling points other than the kitchen was the great amount of natural light that came in. "Yeah. You'll like the rest of it, too."

"Why'd you--"

"Later," Buck says, wanting to enjoy the peace. "When I make you cookies."

Tommy smiles, kissing his hair. "I get make up sex cookies?"

"You get 'I kept thinking about you this morning so I made dough that's chilling in the fridge' cookies," Buck corrects. "They're chocolate chip and salted caramel."

"Sounds perfect," Tommy says softly, curling a leg around him. "I was thinking about you this morning, too."

"Yeah?"

"It's why I went there. I hadn't gone since--I just wanted to feel like I was near you."

Buck squeezes around his waist and cuddles closer. "You're near me."

Tommy squeezes back with his entire body and sighs. "Yeah. You don't have to be anywhere for a while, right?"

"Just here," Buck says, smiling. "And the grocery store. Also the mail room. Want to help me put together a chair?"

"Sure," Tommy says, kissing his hair again. "Just tell me when you want me to get out of here."

Tommy ends up staying the rest of the three and a half days they're off. By the time they're splitting off for work, his bookcase and chair are put together, Tommy's eaten enough cookies to get heartburn twice, they have a date planned, and they've told each other how they feel.

He walks to his car, feeling something close to at peace for the first time in months, and smiles all the way to work.

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botheredbuck · 29 days ago

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this is a common and cheesy parents to a newborn baby trope but thinking about buck and tommy finallyy going out on a date-night-out after a few weeks of getting settled with their baby and buck just being soooo very emotional about leaving him or her for the first time without at least one of them present but tommy telling him that they have to start and it’ll be okay because the baby will be in good hands with maddie and chim and, you have to learn to worry less, sweetheart. and then at the end of the night when they come to pick their baby up, buck says to maddie all giddy and proud aren’t you proud i only called twice to check in maddie and before maddie can answer, chim comes around the corner (and tommy immediately tenses up) and says something to the effect of, um maybe you only called once but your husband here called [insert an unreasonable number of phone calls to be made in a few hour span here] and that’s if we’re not counting the two i sent to voicemail. and let’s see, how many texts? right - 10 texts in the span of five minutes because of the two calls i didn’t answer. what do you have to say for yourself, thomas?” and buck dramatically gasps before breaking out in a fit of laughter like awwww babe you’re wayyy worse than i am. maybe i should’ve given you the pep talk…..something like that

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botheredbuck · 1 month ago

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so about the side profile..

#phew #bucktommy

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botheredbuck · 1 month ago

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Sometimes I think about Buck and Tommy losing five or more years to believing they’re just not meant to be. Buck puts the hollow feeling inside of him down to missing Bobby and while he knows it isn’t the whole reason, it’s more concise than having to explain that his heart’s been broken in too many ways lately to ever fully recover. Maddie’s couch is a familiar enough place to rest his head, and nowhere he looked at really felt like a house that could become a home.

Buck doesn’t make a thing out of leaving – a quiet dinner with Maddie, Chim and the kids is enough. ‘You know you’ll always have a spot at the 118 if you change your mind.’ Chimney’s tenth reminder is as sincere as the first nine even if he did try to gently sabotage the transfer request.

Truth is, Buck’s a little scared of moving on. He’d hoped LA – the 118 – would be his last stop but he’s no stranger to adventure, and for better or worse he doesn’t know what a comfort zone is, so he packs up his bags, puts the shit he cares about in a U-Haul and takes the long way up the coast.

Halfway, at a passable hotel that reminds him of one he and Tommy stopped the night at once, he’s hit with a wave of nostalgia so potent that he grabs his phone and quickly shoots Tommy a text that he hopes Tommy won’t be able to read for hours – hey not sure if you heard but i took a job up in redding. on my way up there now. hope you’re good – just so Tommy knows where to find him in case he ever comes looking.

Tommy replies nice place to go. they’ll love you up there in two rapid bursts.

Then, after a three minutes of stop-start typing –

don’t be a stranger.

Buck’s new station is a far cry from the 118 but when he steps out after his shift and looks at the mountains in the distance the feeling of being small, of being a regular guy in a world that is so big and sprawling brings him the kind of comfort he only ever felt when he was with Tommy. Time and hard lessons taught him the world didn’t start the day he was born, but he’s a master of creating new ones to exist in, and being here as Evan Buckley, not Buck or kid or anything other than a who he is, he finds friends who invite him hiking and ask him for advice.

He tries not to become the stranger to Tommy he feared he would, but he agonises over his opening text for so many weeks that it feels awkward and useless keeping a line of communication open.

Buck doesn’t set foot in Los Angeles until the day of Baby Bobby’s first birthday party. Bobby walked early – he’s steady on his feet and wise beyond his years – an old soul, Buck’s mother says, holding Bobby’s strong, wriggling body tight to her chest. His parents haven’t asked how his new life is but they do ask if used the gift card they sent him for his birthday last year before handing him another one.

Later, when the kids are in bed, Maddie cracks another beer for the both of them and asks him if he’s really not coming back. ‘Things are good, Maddie,’ he says honestly, and they are until sees Tommy holding hands with someone who isn’t him the next morning. Dread coils in his stomach, hands shaking so much from a sudden rush of adrenaline that his keys rattle against the coffee cup his hand is clenched around. There’s no hiding; their eyes meet and lock. Tommy gives him a sweet smile and barely there wave as his boyfriend, Buck presumes, checks his phone. Buck’s breath catches. He mouths hi as he waves goodbye.

Well, he thinks, pulling out of his parking spot, at least I have my opening line now.

They message pretty regularly over the next year. Tommy rarely, if ever, mentions David, his boyfriend. Whether a purposeful mercy or not, Buck’s thankful – all Buck knows is that David’s a civil engineer who’s understanding of Tommy’s job.

Whatever that means.

Buck guesses David doesn’t get the 3 a.m. messages about medevac patients dying thirty seconds out from the hospital, or the multi-chaptered messages about bureaucratic bullshit that lack grade school punctuation. Buck’s face lights up so often that the day it drops everyone in the station notices. He says it’s nothing, lies to himself that the hastily written hey david asked me to marry him hasn’t skewered him in the heart.

He takes a walk outside and stares at the mountains. Imagines moving them. Fantasises about calling Tommy and saying please don’t. Messages i’m really happy for you instead. On a camping trip a month later, warmed by beer, fire and good company, he finally answers a two-week old text that he’s been ignoring – i can’t come, i’m sorry. i hope you both have the best day.

He buys some nondescript stoneware from their registry and asks Chimney to get it gift-wrapped. Chim spares him the details of the ceremony and party the next time he, Maddie and the kids visit. Pats Buck on the shoulder when he hands him a thank you card. Inside, Tommy’s handwriting is neat and clipped – Thank you. Missed you. T x

Buck puts it in the everything-drawer in the kitchen. Every so often, usually when nothing around him feels like it’s about to break apart, he takes it out and traces the T with his finger, willing Tommy to get in touch.

He never does.

Buck starts to enjoy dating. He tries not to think about the one or growing old with anyone and, instead, remembers the fun in getting to know someone. He dates Ashley for over a year until they realise they’ve been friends more than lovers. It’s easy to laugh with her about it, and she is genuine in her support and happiness when he starts seeing Jessica regularly. She’s fun in a way Buck from ten years ago would have lost his mind over, but he knows he won’t be able to keep up with her desire to spend as much time on the move as possible. She seems grateful for his honesty when he tells her so and they have the hottest fuck over the edge of his couch before she says goodbye for good.

Austin is a social worker who looks so unlike Tommy that Buck thanks his lucky stars he doesn’t have to be reminded of Tommy’s face every time he wakes up next to him. He’s interesting, he’s interested, has a daring sense of adventure and sharp tongue that he never uses to put Buck in his place. They exchange keys quickly and they ease into each others’ lives without really realising it’s happened.

So maybe he is a little like Tommy… but it’s been three years since he and Tommy last spoke. Maybe Tommy’s a different person now; Buck’s dropped by Tommy’s favourite haunts when he’s been in LA and never laid eyes on him. He hasn’t heard any stories about Tommy stealing helicopters or risking his life and career because the red tape was too thick.

His curiosity is satisfied after clocking off from beating down some of the harshest wildfires the county has ever seen. He’s grimy and bone tired, palms blistered and numb from cutting the fireline, and there’s Tommy with a hair barely out of place downing a litre of water. His flight suit is half open, the heat from the distant fires pulses around them. Tommy's head quirks in a way that makes Buck ache for a time that has long since passed, and then they’re holding each other in the middle of hell and Buck finally feels relieved.

Tommy’s grounded because of an aircraft malfunction, and Buck’s being sent home after working almost a week straight. ‘I don’t know about you,’ Buck says, ‘but I’m done with camping,’ and invites Tommy to stay the night. He makes them dinner while Tommy leans against the counter, tired, both of them giving abridged versions of their time apart. Tommy doesn’t mention David, Buck doesn’t mention Austin, even though there’s no way Tommy hasn’t noticed the Instax pictures of them stuck to the fridge. They eat standing in the kitchen, wash the dishes side by side, both of them purposely turning away when they catch the other one looking.

Tommy’s wedding ring is hard and unforgiving against Buck’s jaw when Tommy holds his face to kiss him. Fucking kitchens, Buck thinks – the space of firsts and lasts and whatever this is. Buck pulls Tommy in, drags him to bed, kisses the short, greying hairs on Tommy’s temple and wills reality away. Their bodies remember exactly what to do and Buck hurts feeling so good after missing Tommy for so long.

In the morning Tommy tells Buck he’s leaving David and Buck says god, please don’t throw your life away for me even though he wants him to. It shouldn’t feel cruel when Tommy tells Buck he never should have gotten married knowing he was in love with someone else, but it does. His defeated sorry bounces around Buck’s skull for weeks after he walks out on him. Again.

In love with someone else.

Austin just kinda shrugs when Buck comes clean and says it’s cool, he just wishes Buck had agreed the sleeping around with him first. You deserve so much better than this, Buck says, and hands his key back.

Somehow, it takes another six months of sitting with the knowledge that the love they’re holding for each other isn’t going away for Buck to say fuck it and get on a plane. On the long list of dumb shit Buck’s done in his life, hammering on Tommy’s door at almost midnight and hoping he still lives there doesn’t even make the top 5. Having to politely explain why he’s causing such a commotion to Tommy’s elderly neighbour is worth every curtain twitch when he tells Buck Tommy’s at work. He takes the rental to the hanger, finds Tommy chatting to the maintenance crew animatedly until he spots Buck and judders to a stop. They meet in the middle of the bay and Tommy looks like he did the first time Buck saw him all zipped up and ready to fly into a hurricane.

‘I have a whole new life,’ Buck says, ‘but I’m still saving space for you in it, Tommy.’

‘I’ve been saving space for you in mine, too.’ Tommy steps closer. ‘Probably why things haven’t turned out so great.’

‘Probably.’ Buck steps closer, too, fits two fingers under Tommy’s chin. Tommy’s swooping curls, blended brown and grey, remind Buck how far they’ve come even if they’ve been on separate paths. ‘Heard you were taking me out on Saturday. Where are we going?’

‘How ‘bout a flying lesson?’ Tommy asks, and his lips curl into a smile against Buck’s own.

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