Work Text:
Tommy owns a Chevy Silverado.
Buck learns about it when the truck pulls up in front of his apartment building on an early August morning as he’s waiting on the curb with a packed bag in his hand.
It’s cherry red, a shade or two darker than a fire truck, and it looks brand new, which means Tommy must have just gotten it recently, in the two days they haven’t seen each other because a beast of a car like that would’ve been one hell of a challenge to hide on Tommy’s property. Buck chuckles, wondering if this man really bought a whole new car for the purpose of their road trip.
He asks that very question after Tommy gets out to greet him with an arm wrapped around his waist and a kiss that has Buck swooning. After over a year of dating, Tommy’s gentlemanly charm still flusters him.
Tommy gives a hearty laugh as his hand replaces Buck’s on the handle of the bag. They still haven’t moved an inch apart, and Buck knows that they’re wasting precious minutes but as far as he’s concerned, the worse the traffic on their way out of Los Angeles, the more time they get to spend together - just the two of them in a small (not really) cabin of the truck before they get to their accommodation, which Tommy still refuses to reveal to him. For weeks, Tommy insisted that their destination be a surprise for Buck, much to Buck’s repeatedly feigned dismay.
“I’ve been saving up for it for a while now. The road trip was just a good excuse to finally get it. We’ll get plenty of use out of her,” Tommy says with a smile, stunning Buck for the second time before seven in the morning. Whenever Tommy presents Buck with a future plan that includes him, it tends to have this exact effect, leaving Buck speechless and a little out of breath. Buck doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the ease with which Tommy has come to commit to him. “Come on. Get in, see how you like it.”
Buck does just that as Tommy puts his bag in the back seat, already full of everything they might need on their way to wherever they’re going, before getting behind the wheel.
The inside of the truck smells exactly the way a new car should, of clean leather and freshly manufactured plastic. The passenger’s seat is pushed all the way back, giving Buck more than enough leg space, and tilted for comfort. Buck could go right back to sleep if he wasn’t so giddy. Sitting in his boyfriend’s brand new car, about to drive god knows where, has to be one of the most exciting feelings in the world. There’s only one detail missing.
Tommy doesn’t miss a beat. It’s like he’s reading Buck’s mind because as soon as they pull out onto the road, Tommy’s hand finds a comfortable spot for itself right above Buck’s knee.
***
There’s no one on the road ahead of them as far as Buck can see, and he doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that the same is true for the road they’re leaving behind them. They haven’t passed a single other car in hours. In every direction, there’s nothing but planes of the desert, stretching all the way to the horizon where mountain chains seem to be floating in the air.
It’s getting late. The sun hangs low, casting golden light on the scorched earth around, and they’re nowhere near civilisation, but Buck isn’t worried. He trusts whatever plan Tommy has, even though it’s becoming clearer by the second that there may be no plan at all. If they’re stuck to spend the night in the middle of nowhere, so be it. Having to sleep cramped in the back seat of a car is nothing if not an integral part of any road trip on top of providing an excellent excuse for Buck to stay as close to Tommy as possible without taking off any clothes, and even that isn’t a given.
For the first time in years, Buck has nothing to worry about. If he wanted to, he could whine about Tommy having spent the past twelve hours behind the wheel with little break, but he knows how much Tommy enjoys driving, and that this is hardly his toughest endurance challenge. He knows that Tommy is responsible enough to let him know if he needs to switch and get some rest in the passenger’s seat while Buck drives, which - Buck admits - he’d like to do eventually, if nothing else to test the horsepower of a brand new Chevrolet Silverado on a seemingly never-ending stretch of highway in Nevada, but he’s not impatient enough to nag Tommy about it. Instead, he enjoys the picturesque sights of the plateau, now coloured with shades of pink and orange; patches of short grass, dried in the summer heat, casting long shadows on the cracked soil; and the last light of the day glistening atop the summits, giving the impression of ravaging fires burning in the distance before the sun comes down low enough to leave them basking in the darkness.
They’re both quiet right now, but the radio is on, and Tommy’s fingers are tapping the steering wheel to the tune of a song Buck has never heard before but Tommy seems to know by heart, judging by the way his lips move in perfect sync with the lyrics, too.
Buck takes a moment to look at his boyfriend, to take in the joy written into the deep laugh lines around his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks. In the dying daylight, his skin looks sun-kissed.
“See something you like?”
Tommy takes his eyes off the road to look at him with the same warm smile that’s been present on his face ever since they left Los Angeles. Buck could scold him for reckless driving. He could but frankly, he enjoys the attention, and Tommy turns back after just a couple of seconds. Being caught doesn’t deter Buck from staring.
“You know I do,” he admits. It’s easy to express his desires when it comes to Tommy. It’s always been this way.
They don’t say anything more, but Tommy’s hand comes to find Buck’s, to rest in Buck’s lap with their fingers intertwined. Every now and then, he offers a gentle squeeze - a message Buck needs no words to understand.
***
It’s been dark for a while once they finally pull over. They’re still nowhere near any towns or even a motel they could spend the rest of the night in. The same highway is still behind and ahead of them, and the same desert stretches in all directions. Tommy slows down and drives off the road in a seemingly random spot. Buck doesn’t question this decision; they both need at least a few hours of sleep before Buck can talk Tommy into letting him take the wheel for a change.
Instead of stopping right away, Tommy puts some distance between them and the highway before putting the car in park and shutting off the engine. In the silence that follows, Buck can hear his own heartbeat.
He watches Tommy rub his face in an effort to chase away the tiredness. He’s hiding it well, but Buck can tell that he’s exhausted. Tommy doesn’t comment on it. Once he looks at Buck, his expressions shows nothing but affection - all of the lines have been smoothed out, and there’s a softness in his eyes that Buck is well acquainted with. Tommy rarely looks at him in any other way.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” Tommy instructs quietly, leaning over the centre console for a quick peck delivered to Buck’s lips. Buck hums, both in pleasure and agreement, deciding against trying to get to the bottom of whatever Tommy is trying to hide from him. It’s likely he just needs a moment alone to relieve himself, as It’s been over five hours since their last stop. As Tommy gets out, Buck leans back in his seat, tilting it even further, and closes his eyes. He tells himself it’s just for a minute. He’s been forcing himself to stay awake throughout the entire drive, even in the moments of silence, to keep Tommy company through conversation or simply by being present, because a road trip makes no sense if one of them is passed out for half of it. That means that Buck is only marginally less tired than Tommy has to be.
Tommy rummages for something in the backseat before shutting the door with enough force to make the truck sway. Buck doesn’t turn around to investigate.
Despite the late hour, it’s still hot, even more so now that the air conditioning isn’t actively cooling the cabin. Buck is comfortable, but it only takes a few minutes for the air inside to start getting heavy - almost too heavy to comfortably breathe in, so he cracks open the door on the passenger’s side. The desert isn’t as quiet as Buck expected it to be. There’s a high-pitched buzzing sound coming from the outside that Buck can’t place. It’s annoying, and it only gets worse by the second until it abruptly stops.
It’s enough to get Buck out of his seat. He needs to stretch out his legs anyway, and Tommy’s been gone for a minute too long. He jumps out of the car. Dry grass crunches under his boots as he walks around to the back.
Tommy’s crouched over a stack of wood, trying to start a fire. It confuses Buck as much as it is an amusing sight, but it only takes Buck one quick look around to put two and two together. There’s an air mattress on the truck’s bed, and the hatch is open in the perfect position for two people to sit by the soon-to-be campfire. Buck leans against the side of the car to watch Tommy. When the fire finally takes, Tommy nearly jumps up to his feet. He turns to look at Buck with the softest of smiles.
“They pay us to put these things out, not start them, hm?” Buck teases.
Tommy laughs.
A familiar pleasant feeling blooms in Buck’s chest.
***
Everything is warm - the thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the fire crackling just a few feet away. Even the beer in Buck’s hand is lukewarm.
It feels surreal, like a very detailed dream that’s bound to end too soon. Tommy’s face is illuminated by the flames. In the golden light, his sharp features appear softer, and Buck can’t get himself to look away.
Tommy is talking, but Buck’s mind isn’t processing any of the words he’s hearing. All of his attention is taken by his boyfriend’s striking beauty.
He wonders if Tommy has any idea how important this is, how important he is to Buck.
Buck’s been burnt before, and he blames himself for a lot of the heartache in his life. For a long time, he used to believe that it was the nature of love to hurt. Love used to be a wildfire that consumed everything in its path and left behind nothing but ashes; loud, blindingly bright and dangerous.
It’s different now. Everything is different with Tommy, and loving him has been no exception to this rule. Tommy’s love is a candle flame. It’s quiet, only for the two of them. It keeps Buck warm and is a guiding light on dark days. It’s slow and gentle, and it burns and burns, and burns endlessly.
“Evan?”
Tommy must have realised that Buck hasn’t been listening for a good while now, but he’s perfected all the methods to pull Buck right out of his spirals, no matter how deep in thought he is. Buck blinks, and the fog in his mind is gone. Everything comes into focus, as clear as the night sky above them.
“I love you,” Buck whispers all too quietly, and for a moment it seems Tommy hasn’t even heard him. His eyebrows twitch. The smallest of creases appears between them, and he appears to be studying Buck’s expression.
He’s been burnt, too.
But Buck isn’t anxious that Tommy isn’t saying it back, only that he might have missed the confession entirely. He’s afraid Tommy might not know that he’s loved in every way love can exist, so he opens his mouth to say it again, to say it a hundred more times if he has to, but Tommy cuts him off before he gets a chance to make a sound.
“I love you, too,”