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does it bother you when you find out someone's blocked you and you don't know why?

yes, it bothers me a lot

yes, it bothers me a little

it sometimes bothers me, it depends on the circumstances

no, it doesn't bother me at all

nuance/other

i have never had this happen and don't know if it would bother me

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“He would not fucking say that” except its the badly written source material so he did, in fact, say that

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Hi! If there are any prompts that haven’t been requested that *you* personally really wanted to write for Bucktommy … can that be my request? :)

(Or salbucktommy if it makes more sense for the prompt!)

Okay so there's two that haven't been requested that are silly, but these dork4dork boys can make it happen:

99. “I know they’re just stuffed animals but doesn’t it feel weird? its like they’re watching us.”

106. “Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.”

(It's dads BuckTommy time, but the stuffed animals are bath toys. Also, there's dirty talk.)

Buck is forty. He's forty, and he's soft around the edges and graying and has deep lines on his face that he can feel when he runs his fingers over them. He has aches in weird places and stuff pops and hurts that no one ever warned him about.

His husband's forty-seven, and he's also soft around the edges and graying--a lot--and he's got the deepest laugh lines Buck's ever seen on a man his age. He's so beautiful that Buck has to pinch himself even when he's sleep-deprived because Bobbi Jo had a nightmare or has food smeared on his cheek because Matteo reached for him while he had baby food on his fingers.

"Roberta Josephine, why am I seeing toys in the living room when Aunt Maddie is on her way?" Tommy calls, and their daughter calls back something unintelligible. "Run that one by me again?"

She runs out of her room, only one wonky pigtail up, and looks up at Tommy with all the resolve a five-year-old can muster, which is actually quite a lot. "'Cause my hair!"

Buck hands a babbling Matteo off to Tommy and kneels down to carefully negotiate with their very independent daughter until she'll let him do the other side. It's equally wonky, which seems to satisfy her, and she turns into a whirlwind as she grabs her toys to run into her room.

"The diaper bag is packed, her overnight bag is packed," Buck says as Tommy bounces their son and makes faces at him. "What are we forgetting?"

Tommy holds up Matteo, who's wearing just a diaper. "Our son's clothes. We have a nudist baby. What will the neighbors think?"

Buck sighs and puts his hands on his hips. "That we're degenerate freaks who corrupt children--oh wait, Mrs. Gleeson already thinks that and needs to move back to whatever red state she came from, doesn't she? Yes, she does!"

He directs most of this to Matteo, who's grinning at him with his four visible teeth, and he ignores Tommy's exasperated sigh.

"Look, when her husband finally leaves her for whoever he's always talking to on the phone in the backyard, she'll probably have to move," Tommy says, taking the onesie Buck hands him and wrestling their wiggly son into it. "And then Papa Bee will have won his little war with the awful neighbor, huh? Yeah. Yeah, he will. Matteo, please work with me here."

They tag team him on the pants, because Matteo is staunchly anti-pants, but it's cold as hell outside. He's starting to get a little wobbly lipped when they get the socks on him, but Bobbi Jo comes in and starts singing a variation on the alphabet song that's burrowed into their brains thanks to low sensory children's videos that they'll sometimes play when Matteo really doesn't want a diaper change. Buck sings along automatically as he patiently sits with Bobbi Jo while she tries to tie her shoes with Tommy joining in occasionally as he grabs a few last minute things for the kids.

The doorbell rings, and Bobbi Jo lets Buck tie her left shoe so she can jump up and open the door for Maddie. By the time they've handed off the baby, his carseat, the bags, and the stuffed cow that Bobbi Jo's been sleeping with, there's so much noise that the silence that follows feels worse somehow.

"Gonna take a bath," Tommy says.

Buck nods, going to the kitchen to put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. It's sometime between the frying pan and a plate that he realizes he's alone in a house with his hot husband. And he's wasting his time with the dishes. He runs to their bathroom just as Tommy's turning the tap off. Tommy's already naked and stretches his arms over his head as he straightens up, and he turns around to smile at Buck.

Tommy's broad and thick and has padding all over from good food and more nights with the kids than in the garage with their gym equipment. His chest hair's gone gray almost completely, and his stubble isn't much different.

God, he won the fucking lottery.

His eyes finish their journey around Tommy's body, and he bites his lip as he looks at Tommy's face.

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest and quirks an eyebrow at him. "Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? Because if you did, we're having sex. Right now."

"Uh-huh," Buck says, yanking his pajama shirt over his head and dropping it in the hamper.

While he strips, Tommy lets some of the water out of the tub before getting in. Buck carefully follows, settling on Tommy's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck while he kisses him.

"Fuck, I can't believe I've got you all to myself for two days," Tommy murmurs, kneading his ass. "You're not putting on any clothes."

"Yeah?" Buck pants, rocking against him as he feels himself start to fill out against Tommy's belly. "You gonna chain me to the bed, too?"

"Mm, maybe just to me," Tommy says, grinning and grinding against Buck's ass. "Oh wait. Already did that."

"Goddamn right." Buck kisses him again, fucking his tongue into Tommy's mouth and groaning when Tommy's fingers press against his hole.

As he kisses down his husband's neck, he opens his eyes and realizes he's making eye contact with a plastic shark named Finneas.

The problem is, their gigantic tub isn't just theirs anymore, so he's actually got an entire audience of little sea creatures.

"I know they're just bath toys," he says, lifting his head, "but it feels a little weird. It's like they're watching us."

Tommy's chest shakes against his, and he lifts his mouth away from Buck's shoulder kiss the side of his face. "You want me to put them on the floor?"

Buck doesn't want to admit that he'd feel bad for them for being sexiled. "Or we clean up and have sex in the comfortable bed we own."

"Genius," Tommy says, kissing his face again.

They clean up quickly, groping and kissing but dissolving into giggles whenever one of them sees one of the toys. When they're done, they drain the tub and rinse off under the shower head for a moment before they make a break for their bed.

"Now what?" Tommy teases as Buck pushes him back and straddles his hips.

"Now you're going to fuck me until I cry," Buck says, bending to suck at Tommy's nipple. "And then you're going to eat your cum out of my ass until I cry some more."

"Aye, Captain," Tommy gasps, arching against his mouth. "Anything else?"

Buck grinds down on his cock and grins. "I'm open to suggestions."

Tommy rolls them over, pins Buck's hands to the bed, and rolls their hips together. "I want to hear you."

"What'll the neighbors think?" Buck teases, trying to spread his legs as much as possible and shivering when Tommy's cock rubs across his hole.

"That my husband's a slut for my cock," Tommy says, grinding harder and smiling when Buck moans. "That he loves getting split open and filled up until all he can think about, all he can feel, is cock. And they'd be right, wouldn't they?"

Buck pants, nodding with a whine when Tommy moves away from him to dig through the nightstand for lube. He grabs for a pillow to prop under his leg and pulls the other one back with ease. Tommy settles between them and opens him up on his fingers until Buck is going to possibly actually cry from frustration. It doesn't even take that long, he's just impatient. They live in the land of infrequent blowjobs and handjobs and sometimes getting a quickie in, and now Tommy's going to be able to put his stamina to good use.

When Tommy finally fucks him, Buck lets out every little noise, both as a release and so Tommy knows how good he's making him feel. He grabs at his back and shoulders and pants against his chest and neck and settles into the feeling of being owned and known and loved.

One of the beautiful things about being older is even though he's lost the ability to cum more than once every few hours, he's got stamina that he used to have to fight for. So now he can easily get on his side and have Tommy spoon up behind him and hold his leg up and fuck him while he whispers filth into his ear and just keep going.

Being middle-aged is amazing.

"God, I want to fucking keep you here all day," Tommy murmurs, grinding into him. "Just keep you on edge until you're all leaky and crying and begging. How long do you think you'd last before you broke, hm?"

Buck whines and reaches for his cock, but Tommy pins his hand to the bed. "Fuck, about five more fucking minutes. Please, pl--"

He's cut off when Tommy grabs his chin and turns his head to kiss him. He keeps Buck's hand pinned but keeps grinding into his prostate, and Buck feels like he's gotta be leaking a puddle onto the bed. He's panting when the kiss breaks and feels like his skin's melting off his body.

"Then cum for me, sweet boy," Tommy says, nipping at his lip and teasing his tongue across Buck's. "Show me how much you need it."

Buck grinds back with a whine and tries to relax his brain and his body enough, because it's right there. And when he finally tips over that edge, he presses his face into Tommy's neck and sobs through it when Tommy finally jerks him off through the rest of it.

Tommy thrusts in deep and cums with a growl, pressing his mouth to Buck's hair and panting through it.

They lay together, letting their limbs fall into more comfortable positions, and Buck holds up a hand. When he gets a high five, he squeezes Tommy's hand with a smile.

"We still got it," he mumbles.

"Damn right," Tommy agrees, grinding into him with a shudder before pulling out carefully. He smacks Buck's ass before rolling away from him and pushing him onto his stomach. "Now, I believe I was told--"

"Horny Buck was talking shit, ignore everything he said," Buck says as Tommy spreads his legs and strokes over his hole. "Oh, fuck."

"But you're all messy," Tommy says, settling behind Buck. "So I need to clean you up."

Buck buries his face in his arms and lets out the saddest, most pathetic noises he's ever made in his entire life as Tommy eats him out like he's got all day to do it. By the time he's getting hard again, he's clean, he's got the most pristine hole in the known universe, and Tommy fucks three fingers into him until he cums again.

How the fuck did he used to survive this?

He's tapped out by the time Tommy rolls him off the wet spot and cuddles up to him again, and Tommy's being a smug asshole about it.

"Wanna organize the garage while we've got the house to ourselves?" he asks innocently, and Buck bites his forearm. "Ow! Do you need to take some time and talk wh--"

Buck rolls over and starts smothering him with his hands and a corner of the duvet, laughing at the audacity of this man to gentle parent him. Tommy's smiling behind his hands, and his ever-present laugh lines deepen around his eyes. And Buck and their children get to see this every day from him, and he loves him so much that he wants to marry him all over again.

"We're taking a nap," Buck says, taking his hands away. "And then breaking into the junk food stash and watching something violent or boring that doesn't have any singing. And then we're fucking in the living room."

Tommy kisses Buck's fingers and rubs his back. "Sounds good. When do we FaceTime your sister because we miss our children too much?"

Buck thinks for a moment. "Give it about five hours."

"Very optimistic." Tommy kisses his forehead and inhales deeply, and Buck smiles when the exhale makes his hair tickle his skin. "Can we organize the garage tomorrow?"

"Fine," Buck concedes. "But you're wearing the tiny shorts."

"Okay, will you also be wearing tiny shorts?"

Buck grins. "Baby, you'll be lucky if I'm wearing anything."

Tommy growls and kisses his face and neck while Buck giggles, and he ends up halfway on the wet spot but doesn't really give a shit. If that's the trade off for this being his life, he'll take it.

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Post-reconciliation, where they have a first time that they didn't get around to during their first go at the relationship and maybe that was on purpose on the part of one of them (Tommy?) and something the other didn't realize was being avoided, but it's happening now and it's like a sign of trust.

The first time they fucked, Tommy had insisted on bottoming. 

That had worked for Buck. He was ready, but he wasn’t ready ready. He hadn’t known how to put that into words at that time, and he had been grateful to have Tommy guiding him. Tommy had gotten himself ready while Buck had watched. He’d stayed on his hands and knees and instructed Buck to fuck him from behind. It was deeper that way, he’d said. Easier. 

It had been different for Buck at first, lining himself up and looking down over a broad back, but the tight clutch of Tommy’s hole was so delicious that Buck had been surprised he didn’t come on the first press inside. He’d even held out long enough to start to get a sense of what Tommy liked, how he wanted it, what to do to wring some incredibly hot and undignified sounds out of him. Buck had come with his face pressed into Tommy’s spine, and the only thought in his head had been again. It was hot. It was fucking incredible. 

They had fucked like that a few times, when they went further than hands and mouths and simple grinding. Buck memorized the constellations of freckles on Tommy’s back. Soon, though, the way that Tommy threw himself back on Buck’s dick and moaned in such deep pleasure had made Buck too curious about how it felt to wait any longer to try it himself. Tommy had started Buck off with fingers first, slowly moving one, two, then three of his thick fingers inside of Buck; stretching and massaging and wringing an orgasm out of Buck so good that he’d been left drooling against Tommy’s chest until his brain came back online. 

When Buck was ready, Tommy had put him on his back and fucked him gently, watching his face for any signs of discomfort. When none arose, and when Buck dug his heels into the small of Tommy’s back on instinct and begged for it harder, Tommy, please, Tommy had given Buck his first taste of just how good bottoming could be. It had only gotten better from there. 

After that first time, Buck had bottomed more than Tommy did. He hadn’t thought about it like that—he hadn’t thought about it at all. He just started kissing Tommy, rubbing on Tommy, touching Tommy’s broad chest, and then all he wanted to do was feel Tommy inside him, Tommy all around him, enveloping him, Tommy kissing his lips and neck with tender possessive passion, Tommy sweating and grunting into his mouth and telling him how good he was while that fat cock hit places inside of Buck that turned him into a mewling, brainless animal. It was intense. It was addicting. It was the most treasured Buck had ever felt. 

Tommy had seemed happy with the way their dynamic was progressing, and it’s not like he’d never bottomed again during their relationship. He’d done it all the time: bent over the kitchen island, up against the shower wall, on his hands and knees on the bed or the couch or the floor. Buck had fucked Tommy like that and never thought about it beyond yes good Tommy yes. Tommy had moaned and pushed back against him, and that same magic that always brewed between them popped and fizzed and bubbled over. Tommy rode Buck hard and pushed his hands down on Buck’s chest to keep him flat on the bed while Tommy took what he wanted. It was hot. 

So Buck hadn’t thought about it. From the beginning, he had been struck with the near inability to think much around Tommy at all. Their relationship had been such a fuckdrunk blur of easy pleasure and simple joy that Buck hadn’t been able to see that Tommy had been avoiding receiving the intimacy that he gave to Buck. 

That changes after they get back together. 

They’re laying in bed one lazy morning about a month into their second try, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing and naked from the night before and still giddy about being allowed to have this again. Buck rolls on top of Tommy, settling between his legs without breaking their kiss, and thinking nothing of it. He starts grinding down on Tommy, Tommy ruts up against him, and their breathing turns from sweet sighs to harsh, hungry exhales. 

Buck leans up onto his knees, forcing Tommy’s legs further apart. They wrap around Buck’s hips like a hug, keeping him close. It feels so good to have Tommy around him like this, their limbs tangled and bodies pressed together like they could fuse into one. There’s something different about it that Buck can’t quite put his finger on, but he doesn’t chase the thought. He has more important things on his mind. 

“Wanna fuck you,” Buck breathes against Tommy’s mouth. 

“Yeah.” Tommy nods and kisses Buck harder. “Want you to fuck me. Want you. Fuck, Evan, just like this.” He wraps his arms around Buck and pulls him closer, closer; tightens his legs around Buck’s hips to grind against him better and whines when Buck leans more of his weight down onto him. 

Tommy wasn’t this clingy the first time around, didn’t make these kinds of noises, and Buck is living for it now. He has to lean away and untangle himself a little to find the lube, but the brief moment of separation is worth it when he slides two slick fingers into Tommy and Tommy howls; head thrown back and gorgeous thick neck calling to Buck’s lips like a siren song. Buck kisses, bites, sucks, and Tommy’s moans only spur him on. He knows he’s leaving marks, and Tommy knows he’s leaving marks, and still Tommy holds Buck’s head to his neck in acceptance of Buck’s claim. 

Buck teases and stretches Tommy. He’s still pretty loose from last night, when Buck had fucked him face down into the mattress, hard hard hard as hard as you can Evan, please, I’m yours Evan please please take me. 

That had been different, too. That had been incredible.

Tommy moans and squirms and pushes back against Buck’s fingers, writhes against Buck’s body, and Buck has never, never seen him this openly desperate before. He’s always enthusiastic, but there’s usually a bit of snark still clinging to the edges of his self control. All of that is gone now. This is pure need. 

Buck pulls away from Tommy’s neck to kiss his lips again, to sip these beautiful and unprecedented sounds right from the source, but he stops short when he sees the tears in Tommy’s eyes. 

“Hey,” Buck says softly, stopping the movement of his fingers. “Hey, what’s going on?” 

Tommy shakes his head and lets out a string of jumbled words. “Just need you. Need you like this. You’re- Evan, it’s you, please. Please fuck me like this.” 

Buck doesn’t understand. He hesitates, unsure if he should take Tommy at his word or stop altogether until Tommy can really tell him what’s going on. Then Tommy squeezes his legs around Buck’s hips again and whispers please more breathy than Buck has ever heard from him before, and understanding washes over Buck like a hot shower. 

“We’ve never fucked like this before,” he says, incredulous. “You’ve fucked me like this, but you’ve never- you always keep your distance when you bottom. I never realized…” Buck trails off, just looking at Tommy until he nods. “But it- it’s different now?” 

Tommy strokes up and down Buck’s back. “It’s different now. I wanted it before, but it was too… too real. Too vulnerable.” He blinks away tears. “You would’ve kissed me while you fucked me, all- all big on top of me like this, all around me, and I… god, Evan, it just would’ve been everything. I would have lost myself in you, no coming back. And it felt like if I let myself have that, it would’ve hurt too much when you left.” 

“I’m not leaving,” Buck reminds him. “I wasn’t going to then, either.” 

“I know. I know that now. I trust that. That’s why I want you to fuck me like this. I want to kiss you while you’re inside me, I want…” One tear tracks down the crinkles around Tommy’s eyes as he smiles up at Buck, lips quivering. “I want to let you in.” 

Now Buck could cry too. He leans down and kisses Tommy, cradling his precious face in one hand. He tries to kiss every bit of emotion that he’s feeling into Tommy’s mouth: the wonder, the honor of being trusted like this, the joyful hope. Tommy kisses back and holds onto the back of Buck’s head like he can’t get enough. 

Buck starts moving his fingers again and Tommy moans between their mouths. Buck swallows it down greedily. He’s aching with love, with pride, with protectiveness. He always wants to be good for Tommy, but this feels different: he wants to be good to Tommy. He wants Tommy to feel as loved as Tommy makes Buck feel—as loved as Tommy is. Buck presses and stretches his fingers inside of Tommy, and Tommy writhes with it. 

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m ready,” Tommy breathes into Buck’s mouth. “Need you.” 

Tommy chases Buck’s lips as he pulls away. Tommy’s cheeks are flushed, his pupils are blown wide, and naked desire is written clear across his face. He’s gorgeous—even more than he usually is. Buck has never been tempted to use the word wanton to describe Tommy before, but the needy limbs wrapped around him and the whiny little breaths that hit Buck’s face every time he presses his fingers in make the word stick in his mind. 

“I like you like this,” Buck says. “I like you so open.” 

Tommy whines again and tosses his head back against the pillow. “Evan, please.” 

Buck doesn’t make Tommy wait any longer. He pulls his fingers out gently, gets lube onto his already leaking dick, and presses inside. 

Sinking into Tommy feels like a dream. Warm, wet, tight; arms and legs clinging to Buck’s body like they never have before. Buck shivers and moans and hides his face in Tommy’s neck for a moment while they both adjust. He kisses the skin, licks the sweat, bites the muscle. Tommy rumbles a deep, content noise in his chest, and starts to rock his hips against Buck. 

Buck thrusts shallow and gentle at first, testing how Tommy wants it. They’re in unprecedented waters: Buck doesn’t know if Tommy wants to be fucked hard and fast to match his earlier desperation or if this new position—this new deepening of Tommy’s trust in him—calls for something softer and more intimate. 

Buck untucks his face to check on Tommy. The sight nearly takes his breath away. Tommy is looking up at Buck with such pure adoration that Buck stutters in his rhythm. He smiles his beautiful smile up at Buck and he looks more content than Buck has ever seen him. No one has ever looked at Buck the way that Tommy does, and Tommy has never let Buck see this depth before. The lines on Tommy’s face are smooth and relaxed, and the tension he usually holds in his shoulders has melted away. Buck can hardly believe that this is for him, because of him. 

His face heats up and his heart soars. He leans down to kiss Tommy, letting Tommy set the pace and tone. Tommy’s lips press back sweetly, languidly, unhurriedly, so Buck matches his thrusts to that same tempo. Tommy sighs into his mouth; a deep, rich, contented thing. Being able to give Tommy what he wants—being trusted to give Tommy exactly what he has truly wanted for a while; what he has needed and denied himself—sends a shiver of pleasure down Buck’s spine. 

Buck hadn’t realized how much he had been craving this particular form of intimacy. The way they press into one—the way Tommy is wrapped around him in a full-body hug, squeezing him, keeping him together; the way Buck is covering Tommy, warm and protective, thrusting into him slow and sweet—is richly, achingly, indescribably bone-deep satisfying. Buck kisses Tommy as he fucks into him and he can’t believe he didn’t notice that he had been missing this. 

This is what Tommy needs, and it’s what Buck needs, too. Buck is used to being the one who clings. It feels incredible to be clung to, and to know that Tommy not only welcomes but craves the heavy weight of Buck on top of him. Tommy said that it would be everything, and Buck thinks he’s exactly right. 

Buck’s knee slips on the sheet so he hitches his hips off-rhythm to fix his position. He hits a new angle and Tommy moans high and reedy, writhing under Buck to get him to hit that angle again. Buck does. Tommy shudders and kisses Buck faster, harder, licks his way into Buck’s mouth with more force. Buck fucks into Tommy at the same speed, responding to the quickening pace of Tommy’s need. Tommy moans and whines and Buck swallows the sounds down deep inside of himself. He earned those. 

His stomach rubs over Tommy’s cock with every thrust. Buck relishes the way that Tommy ruts up into the small wet patch he’s leaking between their bodies, ruts up against the hair on the soft give of Buck’s strong lower stomach in desperate little hitches. Tommy’s movements get faster, less coordinated, more slippery, and he digs his hands into Buck’s back hard enough to leave marks. 

“Evan,” Tommy pants, his body curling tighter and tighter into itself. “Evan, I’m-” 

“I know,” Buck says, and he does. Tommy is so open under him, not hiding a thing as he writhes and ruts and moans. Buck can feel every muscle of Tommy’s body moving so freely against his own. Even without the rich familiarity Buck has with Tommy’s body, he’d be able to tell how close Tommy is. “I know, I can feel you. I can feel all of you like this. Wanna feel you come for me. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” 

Tommy’s arms tighten, his legs tighten, and his moans pitch higher. It’s not long before he’s clamping down around Buck and spilling hot and wet between them, crying out loud and unabashed. Buck watches the pleasure wash over Tommy’s face and only manages three more thrusts before he’s following Tommy over the edge. He feels primal and possessive as he comes deep inside of Tommy. Tommy is his. Tommy wants to be his. Tommy is letting himself be Buck’s. 

Tommy had been worried about losing himself in Buck. Buck hadn’t been worried about that. Buck lost himself in Tommy the first moment he saw him. This—fucking Tommy so intimately, being pressed practically head-to-toe against Tommy’s sweaty body, coming inside of him, being fully enveloped by him—doesn’t feel like getting lost. It feels like coming home. 

They stay tangled up together as they come down. Tommy holds Buck tight to himself, and Buck has no desire to be anywhere else. He kisses Tommy, kisses over his jaw and his cheek and his throat; gentle, tender, lingering presses of his lips to Tommy’s skin. He wants Tommy to know how loved he is, how treasured, how safe his heart is in Buck’s hands. 

Tommy sighs, soft and warm and uncharacteristically earnest. He doesn’t pull away and he doesn’t push Buck away. He runs shaking fingers through Buck’s hair and presses Buck closer to him. With each kiss, he relaxes and sinks back heavier into the bed. With each kiss, he holds Buck closer. 

They don’t move for a long, long time.

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911 what is your pride (week 3; family)

@911whatisyourpride

bucktommy; 2.7k tags: future fic; kid fic; dialogue heavy; see note below

notes: in the mess of my wip folder there's the beginning of a story where buck and tommy, after bobby's death, leave LA and start a new life in southern new jersey, going mostly no contact with the 118 until athena comes to them them five years later. they're married with two kids in that story, and this is the story of how they got those kids. this got long, but i probably won't put it on the ao3 until the rest of the story is written (if it happens!) so. uh. here you go.

---

Buck wasn't being held hostage in his captain's office by a six-year-old girl, but he wasn't… not being held hostage by a six-year-old girl.

"Who's there?" Layla demands, pointing at the door.

"That's my captain," Buck says easily, meeting Captain Reynolds's eyes. He minutely shakes his head, so Cap holds up a big transparent Ziploc bag to the door's window. "Looks like he brought lunch for us. I can go get it, and you and Bailey stay right here."

"Okay but he can't come in," Layla says. Bailey, her two-year-old brother, sniffles and holds onto Buck's belt loop as he tries to get up. "Bailey, he's coming back, he's bringing lunch."

Buck gently pries Bailey's hand off his belt, holds it between his own for a second, then walks carefully to the door and opens it just wide enough for the bag to slip through.

"Tommy's here, so are the state adoption officials," Reynolds whispers. "You sure about this?"

"Buck!" Layla screams. "He can't come in!"

Buck nods, takes the bag and shuts the door securely behind him. "Alright, how do we feel about applesauce? Ooh, I haven't seen this before: blueberry applesauce? I don't get it. Huh. It's applesauce that tastes like blueberries?"

He sits on the floor again, Bailey between him and Layla. Bailey eagerly gets close to Buck again and looks into the bag, pulling things out and holding them out to Layla curiously. Layla doesn't like being on the outside, though, so she comes around and sits in front of them.

"Alright, so, while we eat," Buck says, popping open some veggies and hummus for Bailey. Layla examines the sandwiches inside and settles on tuna fish, which surprises him. "My husband's here. Tommy. I told you about Tommy."

"You can't leave," Layla says immediately.

"I didn't say I was gonna," Buck says. "But he'd like to meet you guys, if you want."

"Why?"

Buck didn't think this is how it would happen, but it's not like anything else in his life has gone normally before. Ever. Ever.

"Last year, we put ourselves in the state adoption registry," Buck says, keeping cool. "And maybe… maybe we could adopt both of you."

Layla stops chewing and stares at him. Bailey wants another carrot stick and another fistful of hummus, so Buck helps him with that.

"Both of us," Layla says. "Or no deal."

"We want both of you," Buck agrees. "I grew up with a big sister and I wouldn't be who I am without her. She's everything to me. Tommy doesn't have any brothers or sisters, but he wanted them as a kid, so we said that in our paperwork: we want to adopt siblings, if we could." Buck smiles at her. "So maybe this is a good deal for all four of us."

Layla takes another bite of her sandwich, watching him suspiciously. "Bailey likes you," she says finally. "He hasn't yelled since we got here."

"I like him, too," Buck says. "And I like you. Maybe you guys will like Tommy. I hope you do. I like him a lot. I love him."

"Why don't you already have kids?" Layla asks.

"Well, we didn't feel ready until now. Kinda feels like things are lining up for us, all of us."

Layla hmphs to herself. She looks at Bailey, who's thrilled with his hummus situation and sitting in Buck's lap. "Bailey, let's meet this other guy. Maybe he's not so bad, either."

"He's great," Buck says. "Best guy I know. Wouldn't have married him if he wasn't."

"Yeah, okay," Layla says.

"I'm gonna use my radio," Buck says, reaching for the mic clipped on his shirt. "Cap, this is Buck. Tommy can come in, just Tommy, over."

"Copy that, sending him in, over."

"You guys really talk like that? Why don't you just say okay?"

"Easier for emergencies," Buck says. "Okay sounds like too many things; copy that, roger, over, not a lot of words that sound like that. It's important when things around you are too loud or you can't say much."

Layla nods and then whips around when there's a knock at the door. Tommy has both his hands up and Layla flips back to Buck. "That's him?"

"Yup, that's Tommy," Buck says. "Can I let him in?"

"Okay, but if he tries to take us away—"

"He's just here to sit with us, get to know you guys," Buck replies. He tries to get Bailey out of his lap, but he fusses and clutches Buck tighter. "Okay, let's both—"

"Don't go anywhere," Layla says sharply. "Don't take him anywhere. Open the door and then come back."

Buck leans in close and meets her eyes. "I'm not leaving, okay? And neither are you, until you and Bailey want to. I promise."

She stares right back at him. "I don't believe you."

Buck's only met her twice, but he knows that face and how much she wants to believe him.

"Believe me a little, please." She doesn't agree, but doesn't argue either, so Buck stands up and balances Bailey on his hip. "Boy, you are a big guy," Buck says, bouncing him a little. He lets Tommy in, then shuts the door behind him again. "Come on in, we're just having lunch."

It must have been a classroom day for Tommy in his (relatively) new job training medevac pilots, so he's dressed in his best responsible nerd chic: a button down shirt with a V-neck sweater over it. Perfect for convincing the state adoption agency that they're responsible potential parents, even if one of them has been trapped in the captain's office for almost two hours. As they look at each other, though, the mature silver fox instructor look gives way to pure Tommy: what the fuck are you doing/are we doing this/alright I guess we're doing this/christ now we're here aren't we/guess we're rolling with it. His face takes a real journey as they cross the room to where Layla is still sitting, watching them suspiciously.

"Layla, Bailey, this is Tommy Kinard," Buck says. "Tommy, this is Layla Hoffman, age six, and Bailey Hoffman, age two."

Tommy nods, hands at his sides. "Nice to meet you. Can I sit?"

"Fine," Layla says. She doesn't make room for Tommy, so Tommy folds himself up the best he can next to her, across from Buck and Bailey. "Tommy, why do you want kids?"

"Right out the gate, huh?" To Tommy's credit, he doesn't blink. Buck could swoon if he wasn't playing it so, so cool.

Layla points at Buck. "He's really nice and hasn't lied to us yet, and Bailey likes him. What about you?"

"Well, I also don't lie to children," Tommy says. "And…" He looks across to Buck, eyebrows up by his hairline. "And it's not just me. We both want kids. We want a family."

"You like kids?"

"I do."

"Someone at the adoption center told me to stop being a little jerk or I'd never get adopted," Layla says. "Are you gonna get rid of us if I'm a little jerk?"

"Absolutely not, and I can't believe someone said that," Tommy says, glancing with horror at Buck, who's hearing this for the first time, too. "You're kids. You going through stuff for the first time. Of course it's gonna be a lot. You're gonna feel how you feel."

Layla looks at Buck seriously. "Good answer."

Buck can't help preening a little. "Told you. He's a good guy."

"Yeah, maybe," Layla says. "Okay. You can hold Bailey."

Tommy hums to himself as he takes in Bailey, who's getting his face wiped clean of hummus while the conversation goes on around him. "Seems like he's busy."

Layla tugs at Bailey's hand and points at Tommy. Buck watches him turn curious, so he gets him to stand up near Tommy. He fusses a little to be away from Buck, but Tommy's solid and steadies him right away. He stands behind Tommy and drapes his arms on Tommy's shoulders, chin leaning against Tommy's head. He looks at Layla and Buck like, okay, this guy's fine.

"Tommy's got that effect on everyone," Buck says to Layla. "He's so cool."

Tommy gives Buck a look as he answers dryly, "I put my socks on one at a time, just like anyone else. And I make really good pancakes."

Layla's skeptical. "Better than IHOP? What makes them really good?"

"Love, patience, and more butter than I should admit to," Tommy says, glancing at Buck. "Sorry. That's my secret."

"Yeah, not that much of a secret," Buck replies, then assures Layla, "but they're really good."

She nods and then, to Buck's surprise, comes around and sits next to Buck, side-by-side. "So what happens now?"

"Well, I'd like to eat this sandwich, and maybe you and me can watch Tommy try to win Bailey over."

"He already did. Bailey screams right away if he doesn't like someone."

"Good to know," Tommy says, still in Bailey's clutches.

"But what happens to us? Are we getting in trouble?" Layla looks into Buck's face with her piercing eyes. "Are you really gonna try to adopt us or are you just saying that so we get out of here?"

"So, I talked to the state adoption people outside," Tommy says, motioning to the door. "We had a home visit before we submitted our paperwork so…" He glances at Buck, who nods. No time like the present. "So we can take you home, if you want to come with us. Both of you."

"You'd have to share a room for tonight, both of you, but we have a room for each of you," Buck says. "We can shop for stuff tomorrow. Pick out your own bed, sheets and blankets, whatever you need. Your stuff."

"And Bailey's," Layla says.

"And Bailey's," Tommy agrees.

"Are you gonna get fired?" Layla asks Buck, eyes glancing at the door. "Because I locked us in here?"

"Nah, Cap loves kids, he's got three," Buck replies. "No one got hurt, you didn't set any fires—"

"It's a firehouse, you can handle fires," Layla says.

"Yeah, but we didn't have to," Buck replies. "So what do you say? Do you want to try us out as your adopted dads?"

"I finally have a good excuse to put that tire swing in the yard," Tommy says.

Buck gasps. "I'm not a good excuse?"

"That's not what I meant."

Layla touches Buck's shoulder to get his attention. "You drive a hard bargain, but okay."

"Yeah? Okay?"

"Yeah," Layla says, standing up. "Let's see how good you guys are at this dad thing."

Buck's trying not to scream or cry as he stands up from the floor. One minute he was Buck, the next he was a dad. Isn't that how it always happens? "First thing's first: let's clean all this up and put it in the trash."

"Is this a chore?" She thinks of something. "Do we get an allowance?"

"We'll talk about it," Buck says. "Do you think Bailey can be paid off in celery sticks?"

"Can you be paid off in celery sticks?" Tommy asks Layla.

"Cash only," she says.

Buck helps Tommy stand, too, and gets Bailey situated on his hip. "You've got an incredible vocabulary," Tommy informs her.

"Thanks! I hate reading and I love TV."

"You haven't met our book collection," Buck says. "We'll find you something you like."

"Yeah, and no Seinfeld until you're 12," Tommy replies.

"I don't know what that is."

"Fantastic."

When they emerge from the office onto the main floor of the firehouse, there's a wave of applause from everyone gathered: Buck's usual crew and the staff from the state adoption agency.

"Remember what you said," Layla whispers as she grabs Buck's hand tightly, then Tommy's, too. "You said you're keeping us, both of us."

"We are," Buck says, his heart quietly breaking and mending itself, all at once. He looks behind at Tommy; exhaustion and lunch have suddenly hit Bailey, so he's on Tommy's hip and dozing on his shoulder like he belongs there.

"Congratulations," Captain Reynolds informs them. "Looks like negotiations went well?" He says to Layla, "Thank you for giving me my lieutenant back. And my office."

"So far so good," Buck says, Layla gripping his hand with all of her strength. "Okay if I take some time off, Cap?"

He nods at Buck, and at Tommy, too; they like each other a lot, and he looks just as happy for Tommy as he does for Buck. "Give us a call if you need anything, like another rescue."

"You got it," Buck says, then meets Tommy's eyes. "But I don't think we will."

"I don't think we will," Tommy agrees.

---

Buck doesn't think it'll happen again, but Bailey and Layla are asleep in the guest room by 9:30, completely conked out. Buck and Tommy leave the door ajar behind them with two nightlights gently glowing in the dark room, then head down the hall to their room.

"Okay, so what the hell did we do today?" Tommy whispers as he shuts the door most of the way closed. "I got to the office at 8 AM, no kids, and I got home at 7 PM, plus two kids. What."

"Life comes at you fast," Buck says, though he forgot the movie it's from. "Are—"

"Am I okay with it? Yeah, for the 500th time today: yes. Yes." He rests his hands on both sides of Buck's face and kisses him. "Yes, absolutely yes."

Buck kisses him, too, then pulls away laughing. "Oh, wow, she's—Layla's a handful."

"You're already so in love with the six-year-old who took you hostage in your own station."

"She reminds me of you," Buck says, joking and not. She does, though. Those sharp edges, that tough shell to crack, the way she finally sidled up to Buck and let him take care of her—that's a Tommy girl, through and through.

As Buck understood it and relayed to Tommy, with help from the state adoption officials: Layla and Bailey had been orphaned close to a year ago and had no other living relatives, but they had yet to find a long-term family. People were scared off by Layla, and Bailey was (according to Layla) too sensitive for the temporary locations where they had already been placed.

Today happened because they had already met Buck before on a scene last week, when there was a small fire at the adoption center where Layla and Bailey were staying. Captain Reynolds had invited all the kids to Engine Co. 19 for a special visit and safety presentation, where they ran into Buck again.

"And Bailey remembered you?" Tommy asks.

"I think it's the tattoo on my arm. He spotted it and waved me down, then Layla recognized me."

"And then she disappeared with her toddler brother, you found them in Reynolds's office, and she took you hostage in your own station. Got it. And now they're our kids."

"And now they're our kids," Buck agrees.

Tommy nods and takes Buck's hand. "Our usual hardware store doesn't open until nine tomorrow, so I'm gonna drive to the big box store when they open at seven so I can get as much babyproofing and kid stuff as I can find. I'll come right back and I can make breakfast, as promised."

"Hey." Buck tucks his finger under Tommy's chin and turns his face to him. "Thanks for following my lead. For—for this."

"Are you kidding? Bypass the whole waiting process and get two kids dropped right in our laps? It could only happen to you. I'm just lucky I'm here."

"I'm lucky you're here," Buck says, kissing him again.

"Alright, if you insist."

Buck laughs against his mouth and kisses Tommy again, lost in the kiss until his phone is in his hand and he can start making a list of supplies Tommy will be picking up before breakfast tomorrow. "Eyes down here, Kinard," Buck says, waving his phone, but Tommy has to sneak one more kiss before focusing on the first of their many, many checklists.

[iphyslitterator]

We all think Buck’s constant craving to call Tommy after the break up is just because he wants to get back together. And that’s definitely still true but…

What if it’s also because he got so used to calling Tommy for fucking everything. He found I cool fact, call Tommy, he’s had a rough call, call Tommy, he’s a little sad, call Tommy, he’s bored, call Tommy, he’s horny, call Tommy, he needs to walk somewhere, call Tommy.

And now he’s just alone and every time he does or feels something his first instinct is to call Tommy, and every single time he realises he can’t and then he just gets even more sad.

[iphyslitterator]

Thank you to the anonymous person that gifted me a rainbow crab badge! I'm wearing it with pride. Literally!

Since I don't know who sent it and can't thank you personally, Buck baked everyone some chocolate chip muffins ♡

Like to take, reblog to share~

[iphyslitterator]

the Wriothesler

[iphyslitterator]

“ah, you are so perceptive.” “mm-hmm.” THE WAY THEY SAY THIS IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

[iphyslitterator]

-Study for 'The Lady Clare'-

[iphyslitterator]

1x10 / 8x15