#writing challenge: fluffebruary

[kingmlem]

Crooked, Penciled, Perfect

Submission for Day 7 of @bucktommyfluffebruary: Love Notes/Love Letters Also readable here

Summary: Evan draws his hearts crooked, Tommy draws his like sketches. Each one is kept, a small hoard of papers and receipts that radiate affection and care.

Evan draws his hearts crooked.

It’s one of the little tidbits of information that Tommy has stashed away, tucked neatly in a ‘Reasons to Love Evan Buckley’ folder in his brain, followed by every instance of lopsided doodled hearts he can remember. It’s adorable, the way that he’ll try so hard for them to come out perfectly even, only for one side to be bigger or cocked at an angle. The resulting pout usually earns him a rain of playful kisses that Tommy is powerless to stop himself from giving.

Evan’s bright laughter is also filed in that same ‘Reasons to Love Evan Buckley’ folder.

It’s something he doesn’t take notice of at first, paying no mind to the little motif penned onto the back of the picture Maddie had kindly printed out after the medal ceremony.

Tommy and Evan

Medal Ceremony ’24

Simple, written in black ink, with a cock-eyed heart next to their names, the left side bigger and more angular than the right. He’d almost thought it was intentional, before the pattern truly revealed itself.

Each scribbled note on the tiny whiteboard magnetized to Tommy’s fridge is signed with one, some nicer than others, some lost to the heavily smudged surface where Evan would erase one and try again. There’s a folder on Tommy’s phone dedicated solely to pictures of the small illustrations, acting as his own little museum of silly little lopsided hearts. He looks forward to each and every one, hoards them like precious gems.

The sticky notes get added into the mix the day after Evan ‘officially’ moves into the house. Tommy’s almost sure someone had given Evan a literal zoo of the things, because each day he finds one it ends up being a different animal, each one carries its own cheesy- but thematically relevant- pick-up line.

His favorite is tacked to the fridge with a simple black magnet, right next to the stained whiteboard.

That’s one fine ass!!!

~Ev

It’s written, predictably, on a cartoon, sunglasses wearing donkey head. He’d found it, also predictably, in the back pocket of his jeans, right before getting ready for work. Evan’s warped doodle heart sits right above his signature, bleeding into the ‘v’ so much it looks like there are two bottom halves right on top of each other.

Most of the other notes end up taped up in his locker at Harbor, small reminders that bring a smile to his face whenever he opens the door.

Tommy’s hearts are stylized.

Usually doodled in times of boredom or anxiety, all serving the same purpose.

Each one seems like its own little sketch, some pulled from the graffiti that litters train cars, some pulled from the most museum-worthy paintings.

They end up on Evan’s windshield, tucked neatly under the wipers like a ticket, or posted to the bathroom mirror so he sees it while he brushes his teeth. They show up on the coffee pot, the lamp on his side of the bed, his coat pocket- anywhere and everywhere.

There’s one in the Jeep’s glovebox, drawn in geometric shapes on a cocktail napkin while they were waiting for their drinks in an overcrowded bar. One’s tucked into the back of his phone case, a flowing piece drawn absently on the back of a grocery receipt. Evan’s trapped so many against his locker, either by magnet or tape, he can’t see the metal anymore.

They all scream a level of detail- attention, adoration- that Evan can almost feel the emotion behind every line. Each one radiates the amount of love poured into it, no matter how small, no matter how absently drawn they were. They were drawn for Evan, deliberate in their creation and dedication.

There’s a colored version of one tacked up on the fridge, something that Tommy had sketched out while Jee had him cornered, coloring. It’s bright, marker-thick lines over pencil shaded cells, interspersed with shaky wiggles where his niece had tried to help. Jee’s additions aren’t colored over, but simply added in among the more deliberate ones, highlighted as the focus in some areas, even. It’s Evan’s favorite piece, by both artists involved, and he’s made it the focus of their fridge, right next to the stupid donkey sticky note he'd jokingly put in Tommy's pocket. 

[thefixations-ofmine]

🌹Bucktommy Fluffebruary Masterlist🌷

Challenge masterpost

Challenge going through the month of February, the goal is to share some love for Bucktommy and focus on gross fluffy love.

Feb 1 : Non-sexual intimacy + AO3

Feb 6 : Stargazing

Feb 11 : Double date

Feb 25 : Sharing a blanket

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary day 20: Baby Fever

This is day 20 of the challenges by @bucktommyfluffebruary and it was actually hard for me to start. But once I got writing, a lot came out hehe

Safe Place

Read on ao3

Rating G / Words 3389

“Hey, Tommy, can we talk?”

An atavistic terror went through him when he heard those words in Evan's voice. The last time he'd heard those words in that serious tone, Tommy had made the biggest mistake of his life and tried to walk away from Evan. Had succeeded, too. For a time. Now, seven months into their marriage, he had to remind himself that he was committed now. Whatever it was, they would figure it out together.

“Sure,” Tommy finally said slowly when the silence stretched a few moments too long. “What's up?”

“Okay, so, this is gonna be weird and possibly a lot,” Evan started, huffing out a breath. But there was a tenor of - excitement? - under it. “But you know how firehouses are safe drop places for babies?”

“Yes?” Tommy replied, part of him starting to put the pieces together. Especially as they'd started talking about possibly adopting or finding a surrogate in the near future.

“Well, funny thing, when Ravi went outside to make a phone call, he found a stroller with a pair of twin girls inside,” Evan explained, speaking quickly. In the background, Tommy could hear crying. It was moving closer. “They can't be older than a few weeks. There was a note with them. The mother couldn't handle them anymore and wanted to give them a better life. She didn't leave her name or name the girls. She just signed the letter Mom.”

“Okay, sure,” Tommy nodded though he knew Evan couldn't see him. Feeling like he needed to sit down for the next part, he groped behind him until he found the couch. “What exactly did you need to talk to me about?”

“Well,” Evan said, drawing the word out hesitantly.

But before he could continue, the crying suddenly got even louder. Tommy winced and held the phone away from his ear. The poor baby, he assumed, sounded angry. Also that she wanted to let the entire world know. Underneath the crying, he could hear a whuffling, sobbing noise that caught at his heart.

“Buck, for the love of God, please help,” Eddie's voice came over the phone. He sounded defeated and exhausted. “I've been walking her for twenty minutes and she hasn't stopped screaming.”

“Baby number 2 is very sad,” Chimney's voice broke in. “Not even the funny faces I use with Jee and Kevin are helping.”

“You gotta take them,” Eddie begged. “Please. You're the only one they stop crying for. Even Cap couldn't do anything and he finally had to hand her off to me. He's still on the phone trying to find placements for them.”

“Apparently, there's a lack of foster parents with space at the moment,” Chimney added, then made some silly noises that Tommy didn't even try to interpret. “See? Not even a pause in the tears!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Evan replied. “Tommy, hang on a sec.”

There were some shuffling noises while Tommy sat and listened. He was pretty sure now exactly what Evan was going to ask. Part of him wanted to say no. No, they weren't ready for kids, they'd just started talking about them in the future. That part of him was terrified, gibbering in a corner of his mind.

Another part of his mind supplied him with memories of Evan with Jee, Evan with Christopher, the couple of calls they'd ended up on together where Evan had taken care of kids. He was a natural, warm and loving and affectionate. He would be a wonderful father. Suddenly, the image of Evan with their child in his arms filled his mind. He wanted that with an intensity that surprised him. Maybe this was a chance to have a trial run, as it were.

By the time Evan managed to start talking to him again, Tommy had made up his mind.

“You got it on speakerphone, Eddie?” Evan's voice came over the phone again, a little tinny. Eddie murmured an assent then Evan continued, “Okay, sorry about that Tommy. I've gotta be holding them or the waterworks start.”

“You sure you want me to overhear this?” Eddie cut in.

“It's fine,” Tommy said at the same time as Evan. They all chuckled. “So, Evan, you're going to ask me if they can be placed with us until they find another placement for them, right?”

“Uh,” Evan replied. Eddie chuckled again. “Yes. Yes I am. They're so tiny, Tommy, and they need somewhere safe. They like me. They have nowhere else to go.”

Before he could reply, his phone buzzed with an incoming text. Tommy switched the call to speakerphone. When he pulled up the text from Chimney, his heart stopped in his chest. Then it melted.

The text was an image. Evan was standing in the vehicle bay, Eddie at his shoulder. Eddie was holding Evan's phone up between them. But Evan. Oh. Evan was holding two little blanket-wrapped bundles. One was in a purple and white striped blanket and the other was in a green and yellow striped one. Tufts of dark brown hair poked up from the blankets. The baby in the green and yellow blanket had one pudgy fist up in the air. The baby in the purple and white blanket had her fist wrapped around one of Evan's fingers. He looked a little awkward holding them, his hands crossed over the bundles so that the one baby could hold his finger. But his face as he stared down at the two girls was so soft and tender and bright.

“Yeah,” Tommy said softly, feeling something lurch and settle into a new shape deep inside him. “We can take them.”

“Are you sure?” Evan asked just as softly. In the background, Tommy could hear Eddie murmur a fervent thank God. “Really sure?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded again. He took a final look at the picture then switched the phone off speakerphone. “I'm sure, baby. Take them home with you.”

It wasn't quite that simple but the decision had been made. After Bobby was informed that they were willing to take the girls in, he discussed it with the person he'd been arguing in circles with on the phone. She agreed to an emergency temporary placement. Evan was designated as the man left behind with Ravi to help. It left them a man down if a call came in but they would manage.

A few hours later, Tommy was exhaustedly happy that today was the first day of three days off work. Chimney had called Maddie after Evan had cornered him about what baby supplies they'd need. Chimney had passed him off to Maddie, they'd made a list together in a conference call with Tommy. Then, about an hour after the call ended, Tommy found himself with Maddie, Jee, and little Kevin at a baby store. Both he and Maddie were pushing a cart. Maddie had Kevin sitting in her cart while Jee walked with Tommy and held his hand.

“Uncle Tommy?” Jee asked, tugging on his hand as they passed a display with a collection of stuffed animals. “Do you think the babies want a stuffie?”

“Maybe,” Tommy said, staring at the display. “Why don't I send a picture to Uncle Buck and see if he thinks they do.”

Maddie hid a grin behind her hand as Jee jumped excitedly in place. Tommy took a picture of the display and sent it to Evan along with Jee's question. When Evan texted back Can't hurt :), Tommy smiled. Then he turned to Jee and gestured at the display.

“Why don't you pick out a stuffie for each of them?” Tommy asked. “I bet you will make great choices.”

Jee jumped again excitedly and Kevin waved his arms around. He barely missed punching Maddie on the cheek. Apparently used to the exuberance, Maddie swayed out of the way so his hand flew right past her. It took a couple minutes, and Maddie lifting Jee up so she could see the top of the display, before Jee decided on two stuffed animals. One was a green narwhal with a soft silver horn. The other was a purple dragon with a snakelike body.

“I love them,” Tommy said when Jee presented them for his inspection. “Thank you, great job.”

She dumped the stuffed animals in Tommy’s cart, hugged him, then skipped up to Maddie as Maddie started walking again. By the time they were finished, the two shopping carts were full. Tommy goggled a bit at the price for everything. But, better to have too much and not need it than to need something and not have it.

He was so distracted by the total and paying for everything that he missed the considering look Maddie shot him.

~*~*~*~

By the time Evan got home that first night, using the carseats Maddie had dropped off at the firehouse, Tommy and Madde had set up enough in the spare bedroom that the twins had somewhere to sleep. As soon as Evan texted him he was on his way, Tommy made up two bottles of formula for the babies, following the directions on the packaging. One thing he knew about babies was they ate a lot.

“I love you,” Evan muttered when he walked in the door, a baby carrier in each hand. His tired eyes were locked on the bottles Tommy was holding. “They're gonna be hungry again in about...”

There was a small snuffling sound followed by a hiccup. Then soft crying sounds came from one of the carriers. Garbled noises came from the other. The noises rapidly escalated into wails.

“Now,” Evan sighed. He set the carriers down and started unbuckling the babies. “Looks like this little one picked up the screaming from her sister. Here, can you see if she'll take a bottle from you?”

Evan carefully handed over one of the babies after Tommy set down the bottles. A distant part of Tommy's mind noted that it was the baby wrapped in the green and yellow blanket. The larger part of his mind was panicking at having a tiny life in his hands. But Evan arranged his arms so he was cradling the baby then handed him the bottle. As soon as Tommy angled the bottle towards her mouth, the baby stopped wailing and latched onto it. One hand scrabbled at the side of the bottle then wrapped over his finger.

“There you go,” Evan said, smiling at Tommy and the baby with such fondness that Tommy's heart flip flopped. “She likes you. That's good. Maybe I'll get a break from soothing them every once in a while.”

While Evan picked up the other baby and grabbed the bottle, Tommy slowly drifted over to the couch. He sat as slowly and carefully as if he held a live grenade. But the baby didn't seem to notice the motion. Instead, her eyes gazed blearily at his face before slowly closing. A flicker of motion caught Tommy's eye and he glanced sideways to see Evan sitting next to him on the couch with his own bundle. She was drinking just as thirstily from her own bottle. A silence that felt weighted and golden filled the room while the girls drank their bottles.

That night, their routine was completely different. They settled the girls into the cribs Maddie and Tommy had spent far too long puzzling out how to put together. They both seemed happy to sleep after their bottles and about ten minutes of both Evan and Tommy walking them in a circuit around the living room and the kitchen. Tommy turned the baby monitor on and grabbed the receiving end, carrying it into their bedroom. There, he found Evan flopped facedown on their bed.

“Thanks again for agreeing,” Evan mumbled as Tommy sat next to him and rubbed a hand down his spine. He waved one hand in an expansive gesture. “And I'm sorry for springing this on you. Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

“You have,” Tommy hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of Evan's head. “I don't mind hearing it again. I love you, too. As for it being sudden, we'll figure it out, right? It's just until there's a foster family for them.”

“Yeah,” Evan replied after a long moment. “Yeah.”

He didn't sound all that thrilled at the idea. If he were being honest with himself, neither did Tommy. Now that they were here, sleeping in their cribs in the spare bedroom, part of Tommy didn't want to let them go. But he didn't voice that. It was too much, too quick.

They fell asleep wrapped around each other. Though both slept lightly, one ear trained on the baby monitor. They were woken twice during the night. First Evan went to feed and soothe the babies. Then it was Tommy’s turn. They weren't hungry but needed their diapers changed. After, he hummed a song that he dimly remembered his mother singing to him as a child. The babies seemed to like it too. At least, they fell back to sleep quickly.

The next morning, both Evan and Tommy worked it out with their captains to take vacation time until this situation was resolved. Bobby was understanding and wished them both well. Tommy’s captain was confused but allowed the time off. It wasn't like Tommy didn't have enough days banked.

They fell into a new routine over the next few days. It was shaky at times and both lost their tempers more than once. But still, it started feeling more and more right, having the two girls here. By the end of the third day, they were smiling more than they were arguing.

Besides, the sight of Evan holding one or both of the girls was imprinting itself on his heart every time Tommy saw it.

He didn't know that Evan was doing the same thing every time he saw Tommy holding them.

As they found their way to bed at the end of the fourth day, Evan curled into Tommy’s side and took his hand. He played with Tommy’s fingers, his eyes distant. Tommy waited, knowing that look in his husband's eyes well. Evan had something on his mind that he wanted to talk about. It might take a bit but Tommy knew Evan would talk to him about whatever it was.

“I was thinking about names,” Evan finally said. He ran his finger over the back of Tommy's index finger and across the back of his hand. “For the girls. It doesn't feel right, just calling them girl or the baby or something.”

“You want to name them?” Tommy asked.

A little thrill fluttered in his belly at the thought. Giving their girls names. Well, their girls for now. Until a placement was found. But more and more, he was finding he didn't want to let them go.

“I was thinking about it,” Evan said hesitantly, not meeting Tommy’s eyes as he continued tracing his fingers. “Part of me wants to name them right now. But part of me thinks it'll be that much harder to let them go if we name them.”

“What if we didn't?” Tommy asked, his mouth moving without conscious input.

Evan froze, his fingertip just touching the back of Tommy's hand. Then he shot up, balancing on one elbow to stare down at Tommy. There was an intense glitter in his eyes. The finger touching Tommy's hand started to shake.

“Didn't name them?” Evan asked. Though the expression he wore told Tommy he didn't believe that's what Tommy meant.

Tommy took a deep breath and sat up. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have lying down. He took Evan's hand, holding it gently between both of his. It still trembled and Tommy could see those trembles starting to overtake his whole body. Well, Tommy sympathized. His insides felt like they were dancing a jig.

But this felt right. Inevitable. Ever since he saw the picture Chimney had texted him.

“Evan, I know this was only meant to be temporary,” Tommy said. He tightened his hands over Evan's hand when it trembled harder. “But I love them. I don't want to let them go. I want to have a family, this family, with you. If you want it too.”

“If I want it too?” Evan echoed, his voice breathless. Then he laughed and shook his head. “Tommy, I've spent the last two days trying to convince myself to let them go when the time comes. Seeing you hold them... I want this, so much. All of us. Together.”

They stared at each other for a moment, the enormity of what they both wanted crashing over them. Then they surged together, wrapping their arms around each other and kissing desperately. It was release, relief, joy, and a kind of manic exaltation. They continued to kiss until they were breathless, hugging each other tight.

When they finally broke the kiss, Evan leaned his forehead against Tommy's. They breathed quietly, breaths feathering over their lips. Neither was shaking now. Instead, their hands were steady as Evan stroked down Tommy's arm to tangle their fingers together again.

“So, we're going to keep them,” Evan said, wonder filling his words. “We really should name the girls, then.”

“What did you have in mind?” Tommy asked as names started tumbling in the back of his mind.

“I kind of want to name one of them Danielle,” Evan replied after a short pause. He looked a little sheepish but also determined. “After Daniel. It... it feels... right? And I definitely don't want to name one of them after my mom.”

“Of course. Danielle it is,” Tommy squeezed Evan's hand and stole a quick kiss. Evan had shared the story about his older brother not long after they got back together again. “What about a middle name? Do you want to name her after Maddie?”

“Hmmm, no, I don't think I do,” Evan shook his head. “Don't get me wrong, I love Maddie, but I think one sibling is enough. So maybe... hmmm.”

Tommy was quiet as Evan thought, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. He was content to wait, wanting to hear the possibilities Evan would come up with. This was their second momentous decision, after deciding to keep the girls. There was no need to rush their names.

“You know, I've always liked the name Sophia,” Evan mused. His lips moved silently for a moment before he smiled. “Yeah, Danielle Sophia Buckley-Kinard. It's a mouthful but she'll grow into it.”

“I can't wait to see who she becomes,” Tommy said, pulling Evan's hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“What about you, sweetheart? Do you want to name one of our girls?” Evan asked. He smiled wide on saying our, his eyes glittering with happy tears.

“Cora Rose,” Tommy said immediately, the names rolling off his tongue. That was the only choice he could make, once he allowed himself to think about names. “Cora Rose Buckley-Kinard. For my grandmother and my mother. The last people who truly loved me for me before you.

“Tommy,” Evan murmured, his voice fond and full of love. He cupped Tommy’s cheek and pulled him in for a soft kiss. “So, we're really doing this?”

“We are,” Tommy agreed. Then he let out a disbelieving little laugh, tears glimmering in his eyes too. “We're going to be parents.”

Evan kissed him again. The kiss started sweet but soon turned hungry and desperate. Together, they laid back down and loved until sleep claimed them.

~*~*~*~

With the help of the lawyer Hen and Karen had retained in the fight to adopt Mara, Evan and Tommy worked through the legal system to formally adopt their girls. No one showed up to claim them or dispute the adoption.

A couple months later, Evan and Tommy threw a party to introduce their daughters to their extended families. Everyone gathered, cheerful and full of laughter and congratulations. Gifts piled up in the corner of living room as each new person came in.

Danielle Sophia and Cora Rose were officially Buckley-Kinards. They spent the party tucked in the crook of their father's arms, alternately sleeping and staring out at the multitude of people with curious eyes. Though they wouldn't know or understand until they were older, they were home. And they were loved.

[apollabarnes]

fluffebruary day 28: wedding proposal

are any of us shocked that i have turned another writing challenge into another au series? i think not! other tracker au stories here

@bucktommyfluffebruary

"What are you doing here?" Tommy asked, staring at Buck in surprise. "I'm a member. What are you doing here?" Buck arched an eyebrow. "I need to talk to someone. His office said he comes here for lunch every day," Tommy said, stepping around Buck. "Yeah, because this is the kind of place that doesn't let people walk in off the street to harass their members," Buck reached out, snagging Tommy's arm before he could finish dodging around him and inside the club. Tommy glanced down at Buck's hand and then back at him. "Okay, well, I'm sure they'll make an exception for me." "What, going to flirt your way in?" Buck looked him up and down and laughed. "Yeah, this isn't the local morgue." He spun Tommy around, guiding him around the corner. "How important is this witness you want to talk to?" "They're all import… he might have been the last person who saw my missing person before she became a missing person," Tommy conceded. "If I have to go through the kitchen, I will." "Calm down there, Bond," Buck rolled his eyes, feeling unbearably fond of Tommy. "I've got a better idea." "Oh?" Tommy asked, tilting his head. "What's that?" Buck held up a finger, patting down his suit pockets. "They're — ah!" he crowed, reaching into his inner pocket. He pulled out the rings, showing them to Tommy. "Tommy Kinard, will you do me the honour of being my husband for the next forty-five minutes?" Tommy blinked at him, his mouth falling open. "What?" "Yes or no Tommy, tick tock," Buck teased. It was nice seeing him be gobsmacked for once. "Spouses don't need to go through those boring old background checks or get vetted before they come in, and it's been a few months since I've stopped by, it could be a new thing," Buck told him, slipping a ring onto his finger and handing the other to Tommy. "It should be close enough to your size." Tommy put the ring on, still gaping at him. "You just carry these around with you?" "They've come in handy a few times, but no, I don't normally have them on me. However, when we're in the same town at the same time…" Buck smirked. "Never know when I might need to spring my husband from the drunk tank." "That was to interrogate some suspects." "Who said I used them to spring you?" Buck winked, his smirk widening. "I now pronounce us, yadda yadda." He waved his hand towards the door. "After you, hubby dearest." "You're having too much fun with this." "You betcha," Buck told him, not resisting the urge to swat him as Tommy walked past. "This is a nice place and I like coming here, don't do anything to get me kicked out."

[kingmlem]

With Roots

For @bucktommyfluffebruary Day 9: Moving in Together Can also be read here

Rated: M Summary: Ceramic mugs clink together once again in the quiet, a celebratory windchime that's been played on repeat ever since everybody had gone home. It's slowly becoming one of Evan's favorite sounds. After everyone heads home, Evan and Tommy enjoy the gifted bottle of wine on their back porch, complete with ceramic coffee mugs.

The literal castle of unsorted boxes sits abandoned in the openness of the main room, all decorated with individual color-coded sticky notes, all brandishing the same-colored label ‘just in case the other one fell off in the truck.’ The combination foyer-dining room still sits largely empty, walls still blindingly devoid of color aside from the swatch cards pinned up with a bit of painter’s tape.

The door hiding the kitchen swings lightly against the evening breeze, the first hint of summer adding a touch of warmth to the moving air. Paper and bubble wrap rustle in their opened boxes, wrapped glasses and plates decorating the otherwise bare countertops. More paint cards sit attached to the fridge, fanned out and held by a reused chip clip, prospective colors for the kitchen and small breakfast nook.

A few stray leaves tumble across the kitchen floor, making their way inside through the open sliding glass door only to get stuck in the bundle of trash bags and empty pizza boxes.

Ceramic mugs clink together once again in the quiet, a celebratory windchime that's been played on repeat ever since everybody had gone home. It's slowly becoming one of Evan's favorite sounds.

That, and hearing people refer to the house as theirs. It might just be that theirs has become his favorite word, the meaning held in that one little pronoun.

Their space.

Their new house.

Their future.

It awakens something deep, soothes it into contentment, makes the gnawing beast purr. He has roots- they have roots. Together and entangled, metaphorically, emotionally, physically.

With both of their names on the house, Evan mentally checks off 'legally (but not that way... yet.)' It probably means more paperwork later on, getting his name changed and put on the deed properly, but all in time.

He hasn't even asked yet.

Or rather, he hasn't been asked yet.

He's still warring over whether to tell Tommy he'd found the ring box that had been stashed in his old mess uniform while packing the apartment closet into boxes. It's still there, tucked into the side pocket like it had been before Evan found it, housed in the third box of the second stack in their new walk-in. Through all of the moving and planning, the chaos of trying to close on the house, and getting moved in before the lease was up on Tommy's old rental the ring acted as a nice little reminder that they were in this together.

Root systems entangling more and more.

It was wonderful.

"Add plumber to the phone call list," Tommy's voice breaks the silence, mug set next to his thigh on the back porch. His eyes are locked onto the landscape of their backyard, assessment giving way to a scheming twinkle in his eye. "Get the outside spigot working again."

"Should probably do that before the cable company- unless of course you'd like to argue with the machine for me." Tommy's chuckle jostles Evan's head from its comfortable perch on a plaid-clad shoulder.

"Not a chance," The pilot's chuckles turn into full laughter a moment later at Evan's over-exaggerated puppy eyes, complete with batting eyelashes.

"You use your pilot voice and they practically give you what you want. It would be so easy for you." Not to mention there would be no later name change, which would save them both the agony of another phone call. Really, it'd be for the best. Sure, he'd be taking one for the team, but it would also mean a massive win in Evan's book.

"My pilot voice?" He really kind of wants to kiss that arched brow, as awkward as it is to try and catch it from this angle, but he's pretty comfortable against Tommy's side. Their hands naturally find each other, almost unconsciously twining together against the smooth wood of the porch. "Yeah- not the mouth static part though. Promise you won't do mouth static-" Evan laughs at the light shove that finally dislodges him from Tommy's shoulder.

The wind rustles once again, shaking loose leaves from their neighbors' trees into their- their- backyard.

"We have a house," Evan whispers into the night, clutching the hand in his tighter. Joy bubbles around the words, tone reverent and laced with barely concealed wonder.

This was excitement, this was the first big step into making his own happiness and making it with the person he saw himself growing old and wrinkled with. This was the joy of knowing there was more to come, that there are two bedrooms upstairs they don’t need, yet. This was the love and contentment he’d been feeling finally settled, made into physical form and set on a residential street in L.A., just needing someone to come and call it home.

Apparently that someone had been one Thomas Kinard: badass, hot ass, firefighter-pilot of LAFD’s Harbor Station.

Now it even says so.

Right on the legal deed, right next to his own name, like it’s belonged there all along.

"Come on," Stretching already tired muscles, Evan stood, wincing at the audible pop of his shoulder. "We can at least get the kitchen started."

Tommy accepted the offered hand, using the anchor to do his own standing and stretching. Through the whole process, he never dropped Evan’s hand. Not when he’d bent to retrieve their empty mugs, only to hand them off when he was upright again. Not even when he’d stretched his arms high over his head, Evan’s eyes catching on the bar of skin it exposed just above the cut of Tommy’s jeans, hand and arm just following Tommy’s movements automatically.

“Or,” A wave of heat burst under Evan’s skin at the drop in his boyfriend’s voice, following the movement as Tommy reeled him closer using their interwoven fingers, other hand settling warm against his hip. It should be illegal that Tommy can have him practically panting from just one word, in that deep tone that’s just one octave lower than that stupid pilot voice.

Evan also completely understands how his boyfriend has exceptional luck with call center agents, and how woefully unprepared they must be to face that.

His heart goes out to them, at least he gets the real thing at the end of the day. The real thing currently encouraging the little subconscious grind of his hips against the muscled thigh between his legs, the hand on Evan’s hip clutching and releasing in time with each movement.

“Or?” Their breathing the same air, being this close. That’s definitely the reason he’s already feeling a bit hazy, lack of oxygen contributing to the light-headedness and his own breathy tone. The breeze picks up and he can just barely catch a whisper of fading cologne, Tommy’s hand tightening on his hip at a particularly rough thrust. The resulting amused huff has his knees threatening to liquify.

It’s damning how easy Evan is for his boyfriend.

It’s even worse because Tommy knows it.

But the best part of it all is that Tommy’s just as easy for him.

“Or,” Tommy starts again, lips just barely brushing against the blonde’s as he speaks. He pulls back when Evan tries to chase the connection, hungry for the little disappointed moan that it gets him. “We can start unpacking tomorrow. Work on breaking the house in now?” Evan doesn’t let him pull away this time, surging forward while pulling against their joint hands to keep him stuck there.

The kiss is messy- off center and a little too hard- Evan nodding into it immediately, little hums vibrating through their lips.

They make it through the sliding door, Tommy leading them through the threshold only to trip on the slight step into the house. It’s enough to break them apart, matching amusement reflected on their faces.

Right, new place. Their new house.

That’s currently a maze of boxes and plastic totes. The counters, that are littered with their glass and dinnerware, pose more of a risk than temptation, not even accounting for the curtain-free, blind-free sliding glass door.

They just moved in. Probably not a good idea to scar them this early. Or worse, get the cops called and have Athena show up.

It’s Evan’s breathless chuckle that breaks the moment, reconnecting their hands and pulling Tommy into the house properly. He uses their tethered hands to pull his boyfriend toward the stairs after disposing of their mugs in the sink.

“Unpack tomorrow,” Evan confirms with a laugh, the burst of want still reverberating through him, only now tinged with a fondness to temper the desperation.

“Unpack tomorrow, we’ve got time.” Tommy follows up the stairs, face gone crinkly with his smile.

The expression embeds itself in Evan’s chest, further cementing the idea that yeah, this is the one he’s gonna grow old with. This is the one he’s going to spend forever with.

[kingmlem]

Time Honored Recipes

For day 2 of @bucktommyfluffebruary: Cooking together. Rated: T, bucktommy, fluff. Also readable here

There’s a pot simmering lowly on the back burner, the robust smell of onions and garlic breaking free from the steam dappled lid. The kitchen around them is a mess of bowls and cutting boards, the empty tomato cans littering the sink adding to the debris. The space is quiet, music turned low and distant from the living room- though the occasional hum does break the silence when one of them just can’t help themselves.

“I’m amazed you can still read this,” Evan laughs, holding up a stained and battered index card. The poor thing is taped together in the middle, a tear forming there as result of folding and unfolding it too much over the years. Tommy eyes it fondly, grabbing it with gentle fingers as he places a chaste but lingering kiss against his boyfriend’s lips.

“It’s not that bad,” He fidgets with one of the folded corners, the paper worn and fuzzy under his thumb. “It’s well loved.”

To put it mildly.

Tommy can’t even begin to count the number of times he’d clawed the recipe from the ancient box on the counter, seeking the comfort of making something so familiar.

The box itself comes with many bittersweet memories- raised voices, bullshit compromises- but the recipes it held carried only the best. There was comfort in that little wooden box, written on hundreds of index cards, each stained or streaked to hell and back.

It was comfort he hadn’t shared with anyone else, not before Evan, at least. It felt too personal- too close- to let anyone else see that part of him, read that nostalgic look on his face and ask for deeper glimpses into his life. This- the small, ornate, wooden box that sat on his countertop, right next to his coffee pot- was his family, and what he had left of them.

“These sound good,” Evan’s eyes skim over another card, hands light on the fragile stock, not even bothering to pull it from the rest. “They seem simple enough to make.”

There’s something about the mix of casualness in Evan’s tone and the hope in those pretty blue eyes that threatens to steal Tommy’s breath. He could lie to himself, say that it’s because in the warm lights of his kitchen Evan looks practically angelic, or that he’s just so captivated by the blonde’s looks that it takes his breath away sometimes. In truth, Evan looks like he belongs here- not just in his own domain of the kitchen, but here: entrenched in Tommy’s life among empty tomato cans and discarded bowls caked in flour. He has a momentary vision of what his grandfather used to talk about- something about soft, filtered light and an easy smile as his grandmother worked away on whatever recipe she’d pulled that day. It used to make him scoff, or laugh, because things like that weren’t real.

Tommy takes a moment to silently apologize for never believing in that. He can practically hear the old man laughing at him in turn.

Fair enough.

“Let’s see,” Tommy obliges, clearing his throat in order to settle the ball of emotions that had settled there. Evan’s smile echoes the warmth blooming in his too-full chest, recipe pulled from the box and set against the counter.

“It is baking, and I know we’ve kind of sworn off baking, but they sound amazing-“

“Sure,” It is a simple recipe, something Tommy could do in his sleep by this point, but the prospect of doing it with Evan? They can bring the extras to the station, it’s not like they’ll go to waste. “Grab the flour, and the larger mixing bowl. I’ll get the butter started.”

“Make sure to stir that sauce,” Tommy’s smile turns brilliant at the order, the phrase ingrained into his bones by now. He moves into action with a quick peck against plush lips. “I don’t want it to burn like last time.”

“To be fair, we were a bit distracted last time?” Evan bats at his hands when they crawl up his waist, playing with the apron strings tied there. His innocent look is met with one of feigned annoyance, Evan’s birthmark doing amusing things with his expression. Tommy relents after a moment, Evan’s hands still batting at his attempts to untie the stained green apron.

“And who’s fault was that?” The bag of flour makes its way back to the counter with a solid thump, a stainless-steel bowl following behind it moments later.

“In my defense,” The front burner clicks to life under a small saucepan, two sticks of butter falling into the warming metal. “There was a leggy blonde in my kitchen.”

“’Leggy blonde?’ Can’t you do any better than that?” Evan’s hands make quick work of the rest of the eggs, shells discarded into the empty carton before it too is thrown away. “’Leggy blonde.’ I honestly prefer ‘himbo-‘”

“I didn’t mean to call you a himbo-“

There’s an intimate sense of familiarity bouncing around the kitchen- something old, but true- not so much and echo, but a mirror. The sauce doesn’t burn this time, the pasta dough that had been chilling for hours finally gets cut, and there are enough cookies decorating the countertops that they could feed at least three different stations. Eggs, flour, and butter get added to the shopping list posted on the fridge, dishes are cleaned and put away amidst a downpour of kisses and casual touches.

His grandmother’s recipe box sits next to his coffee pot, in between the machine and a new binder labeled with a large ‘K.’

Man, I haven't posted my writing to tumblr in so long?

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary day 22: Grumpy x Sunshine

This is day 22 of the challenge by @bucktommyfluffebruary and it was a little hard for me to write. But a friend suggested a reversal and that clicked for me. :) Also, the horror movie mentioned is Final Destination 5.

Visions of Mayhem

Read on ao3

Rating T / Words 1434

“You will not believe what he did now!” Buck exclaimed.

He slammed the door behind him and sagged back against it. Dropping his duffel bag at his feet, he scrubbed a hand over his face. He felt gritty, dirty, gross, even after the shower he'd taken before leaving the firehouse. Then again, he knew from previous experience that he couldn't scrub this feeling away. The first time he'd tried after a disastrous shift with him, he'd nearly scrubbed his skin raw. Tommy had had to come into the shower and persuade him out.

“Which him?” Tommy looked up from where he was sitting on Buck's couch reading a book. He'd had today off and had been hanging out in Buck's loft for the day.

It still gave Buck a warm thrill to walk into the loft to Tommy already there.

“Him, him,” Buck muttered.

“That narrows it down,” Tommy deadpanned.

He put his book down on the arm of the couch then patted the cushion next to him. It took a moment for Buck to work up the energy to move. Then he was across the room and collapsing on the couch next to Tommy. With a sigh, he dropped his head onto Tommy’s shoulder. His duffel still sat at the door, forgotten.

“I hate him,” Buck muttered, unable to put any energy in it.

“Well, it's not Eddie or Howie,” Tommy said, wrapping an arm around Buck's shoulders and holding him close. “Him also leaves out Hen. Let me guess, the scourge of the 118, Gerrard?”

Buck groaned and turned his head to hide his face against Tommy's shoulder. Anger burned in his belly. But it was joined by a new, not entirely unfamiliar emotion. Despair. In the first few weeks, they'd all thought things would be fixed. Gerrard would be gone, Bobby would be back, things would be the way they were supposed to be.

Now, four months in, it looked like Gerrard was there to stay.

Forever.

Groaning again, Buck sank deeper into the couch and against Tommy. Honestly, the only thing that had kept him sane had been Tommy. Knowing he was there, had been through a Gerrard captaincy and seen him leave, knowing he cared about Buck, had been a lifeline Buck had clung to. This relationship was the brightest spot in his life at the moment.

“What did he do this time?” Tommy asked. He threaded his fingers through the growing curls at the back of Buck's head and scratched at his scalp.

“He treated Chimney like, like, like, a janitor instead of the competent paramedic he is,” Buck complained. He waved a hand tiredly in emphasis. “He ignores Hen unless he has no choice then acts like she's gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.”

“Mmm, he was the same way before,” Tommy said knowingly. He scratched across Buck's scalp, smiling when Buck leaned into the touch. “It's part of what got him in trouble.”

“Well, it's not working this time,” Buck said darkly. A flash of energy burned through him and he got up to pace. As he continued, he waved his arms as he spoke. “He has barely any nasty words for Eddie. I don't get it. The rest of us can't catch a break and he treats Eddie like, I don't know, a comrade? Not a friend but he never rips into him like he does everyone else.”

There was more than a hint of frustration, despair, and hurt in the last words as Buck flopped back down next to Tommy. Tucking his head back into the crook of Tommy's shoulder, Buck closed his eyes. And fought back the tears that burned his eyes. There was silence for several moments as Tommy rubbed a hand soothingly up and down Buck's back. He considered what he could see of Buck's face.

Having Gerrard as captain was a trial of endurance, as he well knew. Also of silence and, sometimes, compliance. At least, he had complied. It made him ashamed now but he never forgot. Never allowed himself to slip back into the man he'd been. The fact that he'd helped oust Gerrard the first time didn't outweigh all the times he'd just... went along. But it helped.

As Buck sighed again, his body sagging against Tommy’s though his muscles were tense, Tommy thought about what might cheer him up. He hated to see the usually sunshine bright man he was starting to fall in love with so despondent.

“You know, maybe one of these days, Gerrard is going to step outside his house and an airplane engine will fall on him,” Tommy said, keeping his voice light but earnest. “Shoddy maintenance, faulty parts, sheer bad luck. It could happen.”

“Then the plane falls out of the sky,” Buck replied, though there was a hint of amusement under the words. “Plane crashes suck. Besides, did you steal that idea from that horror movie we watched last week?”

“Absolutely,” Tommy chuckled. “But if it's only one engine, the plane should be okay.”

“Should be?” Buck echoed, lifting his head to stare incredulously at Tommy. The motion gave Tommy room to card his fingers through Buck's curls again. “What about the pilots? Wouldn't they be freaking out?”

“Sure but they'll still fly, it's their job,” Tommy continued, warming to the subject as Buck became more engaged. “Besides, most pilots are happy to get their bird down in one piece. Mostly. Being able to fly again is just a bonus.”

Buck laughed at that thought. A mental image of two pilots high-fiving each other after landing an airplane that had lost all its bits except for the tube-shaped cabin went through his mind. When he shared the image with Tommy, Tommy threw his head back and laughed loudly. Buck watched him, wonder and affection and a deep, warm feeling he was starting to suspect was love filling him. Hearing Tommy laugh made him happy. Knowing he'd made Tommy laugh filled him with a kind of proud satisfaction.

Then Buck thought of another problem with Tommy’s scenario.

“You know, if he does get squished by an engine, the 118 is gonna be called out,” Buck said mournfully, leaning his head on Tommy's shoulder again. “I wouldn't put it past Gerrard to somehow come back from the dead to yell at Chimney and Hen for scooping up his jellified remains wrong.”

Tommy laughed again. The image was so absurd that all he could do was press a kiss to Buck's temple. There was silence again as Tommy tried to think of a rebuttal to keep the game going. There wasn't one he could think of but at least Buck seemed a little less gloomy and grumpy.

“Okay, you got me there,” Tommy admitted. “But you'd be able to get rid of him.”

“True, just seems like a lot of work,” Buck shrugged and yawned. “Besides, knowing our luck, the plane would go down right next door and ghost Gerrard would yell at us about how we were dealing with that.”

“Maybe we hope he just drops dead of a heart attack or something,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “He gets angry enough.”

“Fingers crossed,” Buck managed to say through a yawn wide enough to crack his jaw. He rubbed his face against Tommy's shoulder for a moment then pushed himself to his feet. “But I'm exhausted. I'm sorry but I don't think I can stay up much longer. I should head to bed.”

“Don't be sorry,” Tommy got up and cupped Buck's face in his hands. He met his eyes, a serious expression on his face. “Dealing with Gerrard is exhausting. I get it. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm just glad you seem to be in a better mood.”

“I am, thank you,” Buck tilted his head to kiss Tommy's fingers. “Imagining mayhem for my boss helped.”

“Good,” Tommy nodded. Then he turned and grabbed his book. “Why don't we go to bed? I can read my book while you fall asleep.”

Buck could only nod, amazed that Tommy wanted to spend time with him even when he was asleep. It was so different from any of his past relationships. He didn't have to be any more than himself, didn't have to offer something in return for someone staying with him. Tommy wanted to because he wanted to spend time with him.

They changed quickly in sleep clothes and settled into Buck's bed. Tommy pulled Buck into his side, wrapping an arm over his shoulders. Buck fell asleep listening to the sound of Tommy's breathing and the turning of pages.

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary day 21: Roadtrip

This is day 21 of the challenge by @bucktommyfluffebruary and this one was fun to write.

The Wind in Our Hair

Read on ao3

Rating G / Words 118

A warm breeze that smelled of fresh ocean air and green growing things flowed past both their faces. The backseat of Tommy's truck was packed with a couple small duffle bags, a cooler filled with drinks and snacks, and two sleeping bags that could be zipped into one. 

They had no specific destination in mind. Instead, they had a desire to travel and a week off of work.

It was a breathlessly freeing feeling.

Buck tilted his face into the wind, smiling as Tommy sang with the radio. Their hands were tangled together over the center console.

“So, any sights you wanna see?” Tommy asked as the song ended.

“Not really,” Buck answered. “As long as it's together.”

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary day 18: Trying Something New

This is day 18 of the challenge by @bucktommyfluffebruary and I wanted to try writing it in the 221b ficlet format. That was fun to get back to.

A Brand New Experience

Read on ao3

Rating G / Words 221

“I can't believe you've never gone mini golfing,” Tommy commented as he watched Evan line up his putt.

“You haven't either,” Evan pointed out, throwing a glare without any heat in it at Tommy. “Shh, I'm concentrating.”

Tommy chuckled but stayed silent. He hoped concentration would help Evan but it wasn't likely. He'd been spectacularly bad at sinking his ball so far. Tommy was winning. He watched as Evan took a deep breath, looked up at the hole again, then back down to the yellow ball. Then he swung his club.

It was, again, a spectacular failure. His ball bounced into Tommy's green one, knocking it into the hole. Then, it careered past and ended behind one of the little mounds.

“Oh come on!” Evan exclaimed, throwing his free arm up in the air. “That doesn't count! That can't count!”

“Anything counts in mini golf,” Tommy deadpanned. Then he moved up to Evan's side and draped an arm over his shoulder. “You're getting better. I don't think the ball is as far away.”

Evan leaned into Tommy’s side for a moment, glaring at his yellow ball. Then he patted Tommy's arm over his shoulders and wriggled out of his hold. He stalked over to the ball and sized up his shot.

“Better,” Evan grumbled, shaking his head. “I'll show you better."

[thefixations-ofmine]

Make me write!

I have so many challenges going on, and I am in a writing funk. Here are a few things that I have nothing written for yet but really like. All of these are Bucktommy centric.

Winter fest

👨‍🚒 Tommy in the firefighter calendar and/or Buck 1.0 meets closeted Tommy

💌 Valentine’s day and/or secret(s)

Fix it Bingo

👻 “Buck is dead” via Chimney (x)

👀 Seeing them everywhere (x)

Fluffebruary

🏝 A day at the beach

💕 Double date

Kink week

🕵️‍♂️ Voyeurism (x)

🎞 “This looks so much easier in the movies”

Send me an emoji!

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary day 24: Working Out Together

This is day 24 of the challenge by @bucktommyfluffebruary and it was fun to write. The idea came from a video I saw here a while back of two people doing sit ups and one kissing the other every time they came up.

Workout Affection

Read on ao3

Rating T / Words 630

It was near their end of their workout routine. Buck put the weights back on the stand and wiped sweat off his face. He watched Tommy for a moment as he finished up, appreciating the lines of his body. Tommy caught his eyes and winked as he finished.

“Anchor me?” Buck asked. “I want to finish with sit ups.”

“Of course,” Tommy replied, wiping a small towel over his face.

They settled into position, Tommy's warm hands holding tightly to Buck's ankles. He used his weight to anchor Buck's feet to the floor. Buck would be lying if he said that thought didn't have heat curling in his belly. Well, more heat. It had been there the entirety of their session.

Then again, after the first couple times their workouts had ended far too quickly with them tangled around each other naked on the floor, they'd laughingly agreed to hold off until they'd finished.

But as he came up on each of his sit ups, Tommy counting them off steadily, a whimsical thought crossed Buck's mind. So, the next time he rose, he pressed his torso forward enough that he could plant a quick kiss on Tommy's lips. He cut off the counting, Tommy slipping into a startled silence.

Grinning, Buck let his body fall back to the ground. Then, when he came up again, he kissed Tommy again.

This time, Tommy wasn't surprised. He met Buck's lips instantly, a quick press then back. Tommy tilted his head knowingly as Buck dropped back down while Buck just smirked at him.

This continued for the count of sit ups Buck set for himself. Each time he came up, Tommy was there to meet him. The kisses were chaste. At first. Soon, Tommy met him with open-mouthed kisses. The touch of his tongue on Buck's bottom lip or against the back of his teeth drove Buck crazy.

And when Tommy swiped his tongue over Buck's in as filthy a kiss as he could manage quickly, Buck let out a groan.

“Come on, baby, twenty more sit ups and you're done,” Tommy urged him on. He switched back to a softer kiss for the next one.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck muttered. He entertained himself for a moment with the thought of dragging Tommy back down with him on the next drop. “What are you finishing with?”

“Well,” Tommy started. Then, as Buck came up again, he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. “I was thinking sit ups.”

Buck laughed and licked over his lips. He could taste his own sweat and the lingering taste of Tommy's mouth. As he came up again, this time Buck captured Tommy’s lip between his teeth in a gentle bite. When Tommy groaned, leaning forward to chase him, Buck laughed wickedly.

“You're on, sweetheart,” Buck said.

They finished out Buck's count of sit ups, kissing each time he rose up. They silently continued to make a game of it, driving each other crazy with hungry kisses, soft kisses, bites, and swipes of their tongues. Always tastes, never enough to sate the heat burning in their bellies.

It continued as they switched positions, Buck anchoring Tommy's feet so that he could do his own sit ups. The game continued as well. Soon, they were panting harder than the exercise warranted. The air was littered with groans, gasps, and whispered names.

Tommy barely managed to complete his own count of sit ups. As soon as he was done, he wrapped his arms around Buck's shoulders and pulled him down on top of him. This time, when they kissed, they didn't break apart until both were breathless and panting with desire.

And if they ended up tangled around each other naked on the floor, well, at least they'd finished their workout.