Work Text:
Tommy had known Henrietta Wilson for over a decade. For less of a decade, he worked beside her at the 118 when the house was hollowed out and they all tried to pretend they didn’t shiver with the cold whenever things got too quiet. Gerrard had been like a poison Tommy had spent too long holding his breath around trying to please if only for one morsel of what he’d always been looking for in his life. Sal had taken him under his wing— more like grabbed him by the back of the neck and shaken him with a smile— and that had made it a little easier.
But it wasn’t until Hen that Tommy learned to lift up his head. It wasn’t until Gerrard couldn’t even look at her and admit that she had been right that Tommy had been able to set his jaw and share a look with Sal before they were following behind Chimney and the others to begin their firehouse mutiny.
Moving to Harbor and getting his hands on the controls of a helicopter had been one of the easiest decisions in Tommy’s life. In part because of Hen but also because of Gerrard. Gerrard’s toxicity had forced Tommy’s head so far in the sand, it was a miracle his neck hadn’t snapped and it was Hen’s defiance in the face of it all that had ripped him up by his hair and allowed him to breathe. To exhale. To face the world he’d been so caught up in trying to hide from, to not draw attention to himself, that he’d almost lost a chance to ever get to feel… this.
This source of warmth and sparkle that fizzled in his veins and buzzed beneath his skin until he was giddy all over.
Hen had been the first person who made Tommy face his regrets instead of hiding from them like a coward.
Now, Tommy’s only real regret was not keeping in touch with her as much as he should have after he left.
Maybe then he would’ve gotten to experience that big, lazy grin that sent his pulse racing sooner.
“Tommy!” Buck cried out, throwing his arms up so high that he tipped over into Hen’s side. “You’re here!”
“Hi.” Tommy dragged out, taking in Buck and his rosy pink cheeks and wild curls flying all over his head. Tommy’s eyes drifted to Karen who gave him a small wave from where Hen was nuzzling into her shoulder with her own drunken smile stretched across her lips. “You were not kidding.”
“We are very intoxicated.” Buck sing sang, making grabby hands towards Tommy. Tommy didn’t really have an ounce in his body that could deny Buck his every wish, so Tommy held out his hands and let Buck scramble to hold onto him.
Buck let out an adorable little grunt as he used Tommy to pull himself up, his face furrowed in concentration before he lit up again the moment he was upright. Buck tipped his chin up and puckered his lips and Tommy was only human.
He kissed him once then twice, tasting the tequila and limes beneath the distinctive taste of Buck on his lips.
Tequila, huh? He’d heard stories of the trouble Hen and Buck had gotten up to when left unsupervised with a bottle of tequila.
He shot Karen a grateful look. “Thanks for calling me.”
He didn’t know Hen’s wife as well. They’d gotten together quietly and privately that Tommy didn’t even know Hen had been seeing someone until she had mentioned they had bought a house. Tommy hadn’t asked and the shame from that was an old wound he knew not to dwell on for too long.
Karen waved off his thanks. “No problem. We weren’t going to leave until Buckaroo got a ride home.”
“That’s me!” Buck breathed, his eyes bright and shiny.
Tommy huffed out a laugh as he nodded.
“You ready to get out of here?” Tommy asked, brushing back some of Buck’s curls only for them to spring back up against the humidity.
“You hear that, babe,” Karen said as she bundled Hen up. “Buck’s leaving. Let’s go home.”
Hen shook her head before she was clawing at Tommy’s chest.
“Hen—” Karen tried to stop her but gave up quickly when Hen let out a triumphant noise as her fingers found purchase with the material of Tommy’s shirt.
A clumsy series of movements happened that involved Buck squeaking out a protest as Hen’s elbow nearly got him in the chin and Tommy almost toppling forward. His hand slapped down onto the booth to avoid crushing Buck and his other arm was quickly captured by Evan’s strong hands before he started to play with Tommy’s fingers. Hen’s glasses slipped askew down the bridge of her nose and Karen could only shoot him an apologetic look over her wife’s shoulder. Between Hen’s fist and Buck clinging to his arm, Tommy didn’t have really anywhere else to go but forward.
“How come you never said?” Hen demanded and Tommy wasn’t quite sure he knew what she was meant about but he had an idea. More than idea, really. Guilt too.
Because he’d let himself blend into the crowd and stayed quiet for his own sake.
Hen didn’t have that choice.
“Gerrard—”
“Was gone,” Hen finished for him. “We worked together for six years and you said nothing.”
“I always kind of thought you knew,” Tommy said.
Tommy always suspected Hen knew and he’d never stop being grateful to her for letting him stay hidden in plain sight.
“I considered it once or twice,” Hen said, her voice almost too low for Tommy to hear over the noise of the bar. He could smell the tequila on her breath and Buck gave an annoyed whine of a noise from where he was being squished.
Hen stared at Tommy long and hard in that moment and if he’d been the same idiot she’d known back then, he was sure he would’ve squirmed; made some quip to deflect and hope no one took any notice of the way he just didn’t quite fit.
But Tommy hadn’t been that idiot in a long time.
And he had an idea he knew where this was going.
“Do not hurt him,” Hen said, over emphasizing each word so they jabbed into his ribs and made his lungs feel tight.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tommy promised but that wasn’t enough. A sharp finger poked into his shoulder as Hen’s brow lifted, waiting.
The mere thought of ever hurting Evan made Tommy’s stomach twist into an uneasy knot that sat heavy inside him. He didn’t know the whole story. Hell, he didn’t think he knew all of the stories plural. But he had pieces that Evan had let slip. Small fractured pieces that Tommy had been left to collect in hopes of being able to put them together. Buck was stuttering smiles and ducked down chins and sweet little laughs and Tommy knew. He knew sometimes it was meant to serve as a balm.
Tommy met Hen’s gaze and held it. “I won’t hurt him.”
Through the haze of the alcohol, Hen must have seen what she was looking for. She nodded her head once before a big, bulky shoulder pushed in between them.
“Hen!” Buck whined. Honest to God, whined because could he get anymore adorable? “Stop hogging him. Get your own boyfriend.”
Hen cut a pointed look at Buck that sent him falling into Tommy’s chest.
“I would rather die,” she said before spinning around and throwing her arms around her wife. Karen smiled as Hen pressed a sloppy kiss against her check.
“We’re heading out,” Karen said, reaching over to squeeze Buck’s knee. “See you later, Buck.”
“You two good?” Tommy asked, watching as Karen practically hoisted Hen up onto her feet.
“Yep!” Karen huffed, rolling her eyes as Hen curled her arms around her waist and nuzzled into her shoulder again. “Have a good night.”
“You too!”
“Bye!” Buck bellowed and Tommy winced at the volume in his ear.
He watched as Hen and Karen disappeared through the crowd before he turned back to Evan. Buck had a smile slowly creeping up onto his face, one that was a little too manic and a little too giddy not to make Tommy laugh.
“What?”
“You’re my boyfriend,” Buck said with all the confidence tequila could bring.
Heat flushed into the tips of Tommy’s ears as he cupped Buck’s cheek.
“Come on you. Let’s get you home.”
“Karen asked if I wanted a ride,” Buck started to ramble, his grin turning into something feral as Tommy hauled him out of the booth. “So strong.”
Tommy kept a steady hand on Buck’s elbow and his back, steering him around the tables and booths filled with off duty first responders throwing them passing greetings as they left.
The Tommy Hen knew back then would’ve felt like his skin was crawling with all the attention. Eyes forward. Face straight. Keep platonic distance between yourself and anyone else.
But that Tommy didn’t have a clingy, cuddly Buck attached at his hip either. A clingy, cuddly drunk Buck who tangled their fingers together and was beaming with pride to be seen with Tommy.
Tommy didn’t really know why that made him want to mourn that Tommy a little. The Tommy who had been afraid; not quite free even if he looked it on the outside.
When they got out into the cold air, Tommy got all but one stumbled step and two hands on his shoulders as a warning before Buck jumped up onto his back. Tommy caught him on instinct, curling his hands under his thighs and hoisting him higher onto his hips.
Buck’s arms curled around Tommy’s neck before the sharp stubble of his post shift shadow pressed against Tommy’s cheek.
“Comfy?” Tommy asked, starting for his truck across the parking lot.
Buck hummed and Tommy could feel his content little smile as he nuzzled into Tommy’s cheek.
“You’re my boyfriend,” Buck whisper shouted, the words meant to be just for Tommy but too loud so that anybody walking by could hear.
“Karen asked if I wanted a ride.” Buck repeated as he slipped his hand down the front of Tommy’s shirt collar, drumming his fingers into his skin as he hummed. “But I said no. I said call my boyfriend and you came!”
That earned him a sloppy kiss against his cheek and Tommy’s whole world lit up with a thousand firecrackers that exploded into a burst of bright colors in the sky.
Buck sighed, his body growing heavy as he tucked his head down next to Tommy’s cheek again. “You came.”
“Yes, I did,” Tommy said, finally spotting his truck.
Buck didn’t say anything for the rest of the trip, plucking Tommy’s shirt between his fingers as Tommy carried him across the parking lot.
It wasn’t until he let Buck down and propped him against the car to keep him upright that he heard that next little question. Quiet as a confession and so soft it made something in Tommy ache to hear it.
“You came for me, right?” Buck asked, vulnerable. Unsure. Bracing for a let down that Hen had been worried about.
Because Hen knew Tommy when he’d covered himself in so much dirt to camouflage who he was. She knew him when he froze up, lashed out, and made a quip that got everyone to look away when they got too close.
Tommy didn’t do close.
He had friends. He had teammates.
But he didn’t have family. He didn’t have close even though he craved it more than anything.
He had Buck though and Buck was as close as anyone had ever gotten. The heat of his goodness radiated onto Tommy’s exposed heart and soul and warmed him to the core.
Tommy cradled Buck’s face in his hands and tipped his chin up for a quick kiss. He would’ve given him more if he asked.
The problem was Buck was afraid to ask.
The same way Tommy had been afraid to be seen.
“Yeah baby,” Tommy said, his heart somersault at the sight of Buck’s smile. The small, bashful one that he couldn’t keep off his face he tried. “I came for you.”
Because Buck had plenty of people who hurt him but Tommy would not be one of them.