Work Text:
The medal ceremony is a mixed bag of emotions for Tommy, to say the least.
On the one hand, he’s happy that the 118 is being recognized. They deserve it—Howie and Hen especially. The four firefighters Tommy shares a stage with are heroes. Thousands of people, including Captain Nash and Sergeant Grant, would likely be dead if not for them.
As a black fire chief awards medals of bravery to a diverse group of firefighters for thinking outside the box—not a straight white man among them—Tommy is hit with the realization of just how much the LAFD has changed for the better since he first joined. A ceremony like this would have been unthinkable all those years ago. Even now, it’s a rarity. A publicity stunt.
Tommy also loves seeing how happy Evan is to get a medal. Evan has never looked more radiant than he does when that medal is draped around his neck. Tommy often looks at Evan’s smiling face and thinks he looks like sunshine; feels something bright and life-affirming warm him from the inside out at the sight of him. Tommy would fly into a thousand hurricanes if it made Evan smile like that again.
But the medal around Tommy’s own neck feels heavy and wrong. He’s being awarded a medal for bravery. Bravery. Tommy Kinard is being given a medal for being brave. At the 118 firehouse, in the same room as Captain Gerrard. It’s all a little too ironic for his taste.
This is the place where Tommy was at his most cowardly. These are the very people he did not defend; whose suffering he contributed to because he was too afraid of what would happen to him if he tried to do anything else.
He hid himself so carefully away here that it took him years to find himself again once he went looking.
As he looks around the station, Tommy is hit with memory after shameful memory. There are the cubbies where he uncaringly threw his dirty turnouts to be cleaned by unseen probies. There is the loft where he said awful things to Howie. There is the kitchen where he paid a caterer to pretend to be his girlfriend and cook for the team. There is the locker room where he and Sal stole newcomers’ clothes to haze them. There is the couch where he agreed too quickly that he also would never tolerate any faggots on the team. There is the balcony where he watched Hen endure increasingly horrible treatment and did nothing until someone else suggested they should. There and there and there and there and there are spots he stood in and nodded along with Gerrard’s bigoted statements, unthinking and terrified.
Tommy made progress in this station. He got better. By the end of his time here, he’d reformed enough to be on good terms with Howie and Hen. But the walls and the floors and the very air of the place are saturated with such a backlog of visceral memories that he’s thrown right back to the beginning; closeted and cowardly, unable to do anything but stand there and agree with anything and everything that would keep him out of the line of fire.
So the ceremony hits him as bittersweet at best. He’s not sure he would’ve even come if Evan hadn’t been so enthusiastic. He’d talked nonstop about it for days. It probably should have been annoying, but Tommy just found it endearing. Evan deserves this medal, and if watching Tommy get one too made him happy, well, Tommy is too far gone on him to deny him that.
Tommy stands in front of the cameras and uses the way Evan is looking at him as the medal is slipped around Tommy’s neck—glowing and proud and beautiful— to conjure up a wide smile for his photo with the chief.
Sham mayoral campaign of a performance as this ceremony is, Tommy still feels like a fraud for accepting a medal at all. Captain Nash’s speech was painful to listen to but Tommy understood it. He doesn’t feel like one of the real heroes either.
Tommy knows that flying a helicopter into a hurricane isn’t something that most people—even most emergency pilots—would agree to do so readily, but he doesn’t feel like that makes him brave. Hen unflinchingly and unapologetically being an out black lesbian in a straight white boys’ club was brave. Howie trying to make friends after being rejected and subjected to racist jabs over and over again was brave. What did Tommy do? Answer a phone call and pilot a machine he could fly in his sleep for the chance to be part of a group that cared about each other? That’s nothing. That’s kind of pathetic, actually.
The 118 being recognized for their courage is right. It’s incredibly overdue, but it’s good. But Tommy had a front row seat to should-be-disgraced-and-forced-retired Captain Gerrard in full dress blues looking at all of them (except for Evan) disdainfully throughout the ceremony, and the sinking feeling in his stomach reminds him that good things don’t last.
As they make their way through the buffet, he knows his mood is bringing down Evan’s energy a little. He wants to match his boyfriend’s unbridled joy so badly but he just can’t. This ceremony is good. It’s progress. But it is not the truth of the LAFD. The fact that Gerrard has even been let back into this building is proof enough of that.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he tells Evan. And he means every bit of it—both the optimism and the pessimism present in his words. Enjoy this rare moment of recognition for good people going above and beyond unselfishly. You might not see another.
Evan tells Tommy and Howie that he’d thought Gerrard was dead. He should be. He should’ve been fired without pension and left to rot. In truth, he was barely reprimanded: two weeks’ paid suspension and a transfer across town. LAFD brass take care of the good old boys. Tommy should know: that had been his whole survival strategy under Gerrard. It had worked well at the time, though it had taken him years to recover his morals, sanity, and sense of self-worth.
Evan glares at Gerrard and Tommy is seized with the urge to wrap his body around Evan’s to protect him from the impact of the hit he knows is coming their way. But he doesn’t. He stands still—doesn’t even step in front of Evan—and watches his old captain come towards the three of them.
He’s so deep into himself when Gerrard starts talking to him that he flubs the number of years he’s been at Harbor. Gerrard all but calls him a fairy and he feels himself going entirely blank. It doesn’t hurt because he doesn’t feel anything. He isn’t sure if it’s a trauma response or a healthy coping mechanism. Maybe it’s both.
He does nothing. He says nothing. Like always. Howie takes the brunt of Gerrard’s hate and has a perfect retort. Like always.
Howie is brave. Howie deserves his medal.
“So that was what it was like?” Evan asks as they make their way to the table, fuming on their behalf. He didn’t even get a glancing blow. Gerrard must not know yet. “To work under Gerrard?”
“No,” Tommy manages, stiff and tight. He feels like he’s made of wax, like he’ll crack if he lets his face move at all. He hasn’t felt like this in so many years.
“It was way worse back then,” Howie agrees. “That’s just what he can get away with now. He used to be a lot more up-front.”
“One time he caught me drinking tea,” Tommy says flatly. “He called me a faggot for two weeks. Wouldn’t let it go even after I switched to drinking black coffee every day. I didn’t look at tea again for years, even after he left.”
“Oh,” Evan frowns, blinks. There’s an apology on his face like he’s the one who made that happen. “You hate black coffee.”
“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. He takes his coffee as sweet as possible now. Ideally with vanilla syrup to cover the taste. “And that’s why.”
Tommy stays quiet as they eat. Howie and Evan chat with Maddie and Jee-Yun. Tommy watches as the little girl refuses to eat the vegetables on her plate until her Uncle Buck sits her on his lap and feeds them to her himself, his voice soft and encouraging. It knocks something loose inside of Tommy that he doesn’t have the emotional capacity to look directly at right now; not when he’s still frozen and pushing his own food around his plate, appetite lost.
Evan tries to hold his hand under the table after Jee-Yun goes back to her own seat and frowns when Tommy flinches away. He won’t drag Evan down into this with him. Gerrard can say what he wants about Tommy, but if he makes a comment towards Evan, Tommy will… well, he hopes he would do something. He hopes he’d be able to say something to defend Evan, to put Gerrard in his place the same way Howie did for him. But the wax is covering his mouth now and he’s not sure he’d be able to break the seal, even for Evan.
Evan wants to ask if he’s okay: Tommy can see it written plainly on his face. One of the many, many things that Tommy finds refreshing about Evan is how easy he is to read. Every thought he has etches itself into the lines of his face and his body. It feels almost like a luxury sometimes— something Tommy doesn’t deserve—to have a partner be so open and vulnerable that he can read his every thought without even having to try. Tommy has had boyfriends in the past who made it their mission to never let Tommy know what they were feeling—good or bad, even during sex—and Tommy would be lying if he said that he’s never been guilty of doing the same. That’s never been a problem with Evan.
Evan is different. Evan is special. He deserves better than trying to communicate with a brick wall, so Tommy forces himself to meet Evan’s gaze and tell him as much as he can without having to use his words just yet. No, he’s not okay. No, he can’t talk about it right now. It’s just a lot, being back here, seeing Gerrard. He’ll be okay, though. Things are better now than they were then. Tommy is better now than he was back then. He just needs to remember that.
Tommy presses his leg along the length of Evan’s and hopes that will be enough for now. He doesn’t want to bring Evan down on a day that means so much to him, but he just can’t risk it. He’s not brave enough. Evan doesn’t push him to speak, doesn’t try to hold his hand again; just presses his leg back. Tommy feels himself melting just a little along the warm line of Evan’s leg. He even manages to eat most of the food on his plate.
After they eat, Evan stands up and nods at him, prompting Tommy to stand too. He leads Tommy outside and around the back of the building.
“I thought you could use some fresh air,” Evan says as they round the corner.
It’s quiet out here. There’s a bit of noise from the street traffic out front but no voices, no eyes on them. They come to a stop and Tommy takes a deep breath. It’s just the two of them now.
“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. “Thank you.”
Tommy used to come back here behind the building in the early days when he needed a break from it all. The loose brick he’d hide a pack of cigarettes behind is still there, yet to be regrouted. It was never a daily habit, but he’d leaned hard on the nicotine when the pressure of hiding himself got to be too much. He’d stopped smoking altogether when Howie took a pointed sniff one day as he came back inside and joked about Tommy not getting enough smoke inhalation on the job. The comment was light, but it was clear from the way the mirth never reached his eyes that he genuinely cared.
Howie was the first one to ever say anything about it, and it was at a time when Tommy was still pretending he didn’t exist. Actually, Tommy is pretty sure he’d just huffed at him in response and kept walking.
Howie saved his life a week later anyway. Howie has always been brave.
He fiddles with the loose brick and thinks about telling Evan the story behind it but then Evan is wrapping his arms around Tommy and pulling him into a hug. It was supposed to be serious and comforting, Tommy thinks, but their medals clink together and Evan laughs into his ear; joyful and pure and so goddamn radiant that Tommy finds himself smiling before he even registers the quick change in his mood. Evan’s happiness is infectious, seeping into Tommy’s body, and Tommy is entirely smitten by the ball of sunshine in his arms.
Tommy holds Evan tight and just breathes him in for a moment. His worries about Gerrard, his anxieties about being back at the 118, his insecurities about being called brave—layer by layer the dry wax coating his body melts and flows away as Evan holds him. Tommy is still a little in awe of the fact that he gets to do this; that Evan wants him. Evan knows his past and knows his present and wants him anyway. Nothing else matters.
Or maybe it does matter. Maybe everything else had to happen to him to get himself here. All those little moments of pain led him to this moment; to Evan smiling and happy and warm in his arms. He’s not sure he has this because he went through that, but he does know that this makes him feel like clawing his way to the other side of all of that was worth it.
A little overcome by the emotions swirling inside of him—the comedown of the bad being swiftly replaced by the avalanche of the good—Tommy starts planting kisses on Evan’s jaw, his cheek, his birthmark in gratitude. He’s never had someone care enough to look after him like this. Evan didn’t even have to do much but it’s everything. He’s everything.
“You got a medal, baby,” Tommy coos into his ear. He’s so proud of Evan.
“So did you.” Evan leans back and then forward to hear their medals clink together again. They both laugh and Tommy’s chest aches with it.
Evan pulls back just enough to look at Tommy. He’s smiling so wide he’s squinting; his eyes shining, dimples showing, perfect lips pulled back to show his perfect teeth. It reminds Tommy of the way he looked the first time they met up for coffee, when Tommy agreed helplessly to be Evan’s date to his sister’s wedding. He’d been so open and full of love sitting in that courtyard that Tommy had decided then and there that he’d show up wherever this man asked him to for as long as Evan wanted him.
“You deserve this,” Tommy says. “You’re so brave. One of the first things I learned about you is how brave you are. I’m a little in awe of it, actually.”
It took Tommy decades to admit he wanted anything with a man. Evan took less than a week. He’d kissed a man for the first time—learned that was something he was even interested in—and gone out with him two days later, no hesitations. There were some bumps on the road, some nerves as his eyes darted around the restaurant trying to understand his new place in the world, but that discomfort was more about the adjustment than anything else. Within a few days he’d had no doubts about what he wanted.
I want you, he had told Tommy at the cafe. I’m still figuring myself out but I know I want you. Whatever that means about me is fine.
“That goes for you, too,” Evan says. “When I met you, you were about to fly a helicopter into a hurricane on an old coworker’s hunch that some people you used to know were in trouble. That’s brave.”
Tommy scoffs and tries for a light tone. “If Hen said there were people who needed rescuing, I knew there were people who needed rescuing. I learned to trust her instincts early on. That’s half the reason we finally reported Gerrard. She was right more often than he was.”
Evan hums, but Tommy quickly sees that his attempt to change the subject didn’t go unnoticed. Evan presses on. “You are brave, babe, you know that, right?” Tommy makes a noncommittal noise and Evan frowns. He gets a hand on the back of Tommy’s head and makes Tommy look at him. “Hey, you are. Forget the hurricane, forget the daily air rescues and the firefighting. To start where you did, under the circumstances that you were in, surrounded by the people you were with, and to decide to change? To be yourself? That’s brave. Reporting Gerrard was brave. Admitting you’re gay is brave. Coming out to anyone was brave, nevermind your macho coworkers. I know none of that was easy for you, and you did it anyway.”
Tommy has never thought about it that way. At a certain point he’d felt trapped, like he’d had no choice but to step up and stop lying about who he was if he ever wanted a chance at happiness. Even then, he sort of felt like it was too late: he was too old for the fairytale romance he’d spent so long pretending he didn’t want. Maybe it was brave to let himself look for one anyway. Maybe this, here—this vulnerability with Evan—maybe this is brave.
Tommy loves the way Evan sees him: he loves the way he looks through Evan’s eyes. No one has ever seen him the way Evan does—trustworthy, gentle, brave. All the things that Tommy has been trying so hard to be after cowardly decades spent fighting his softer instincts. He wants Evan’s version of his story to be true: to be the man Evan sees him as. He wants to be worthy of the tender way Evan is looking at him right now. He wants to make Evan proud.
That life-affirming warmth is back in his chest, overtaking him and choking him up. It’s not too late for Tommy. He met Evan right on time. He’s falling hard and Evan is catching him at every step with ease.
It’s too soon to say any of that out loud, though.
“If I’m brave, then you’re brave,” Tommy manages. “Your sexuality crisis began and ended within a week.”
Evan’s smile turns into a half-joking arrogant smirk. “Of course I’m brave. Buck is a brave firefighter. Reckless, even. I always rush into scary situations, that’s kind of my thing. Ask anyone.”
“And what about Evan?” Tommy asks in a soft voice. “Is he brave?”
Tommy has been stuck on the implications of the double persona since he met the Buckley parents at the wedding. He’d accidentally caused a passive-aggressive argument by calling Evan by his first name in front of them. Most firefighters don’t care if their parents still use their legal names rather than their nicknames. Evan was pretty insistent that his parents still call him Buck.
He caught Evan off guard with his question. The smirk falls and the smile that replaces it is tentative. “Evan is getting braver. Or, trying to. It’s- it’s been getting easier to be Evan ever since I met you. Since you made me realize I’m bi. Everything just fits a little easier now. Something about the way you say my name makes me think Evan might not be so bad after all. I don’t even know why I introduced myself to you as Evan in the first place. I just- I looked at you and I forgot I was supposed to be Buck.”
God, Tommy is falling hard. It’s like he can physically feel another chamber of his heart open up for Evan to slip into. That might be the single most romantic thing anyone has ever said to Tommy. He wants to look around for cameras to make sure he’s not actually in a romcom; to assure himself that this is actually his real life. He takes Evan’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and kisses him open-mouthed and tender, like he could lick this feeling rising in him off of Evan’s tongue. He’ll never get enough.
It’s too early for Tommy to be in love. But he’s in love.
“You know,” Evan says, pulling back, a little dazed; that flirty smile he wears so easily back on his face. “Kissing me that first time was pretty brave too. You didn’t know I was into guys. I didn’t even know.”
“Oh, I knew,” Tommy teases. “You were flirting with me pretty hard.”
“Oh was I?” Evan teases back. “You’d think I’d know when I was flirting with a man in my own kitchen.”
“Mmm,” Tommy hums in agreement. “You’d think.” He kisses Evan again; all the same tenderness but softer this time, slower.
Evan pulls back again just to look at him, adoring. It would make Tommy squirm if he wasn’t too busy looking right back at Evan the same way. He feels like he’s staring into the sun.
“Have I told you how handsome you look today?” Evan asks after a moment, one hand coming up to run gently over the smooth skin of Tommy’s clean-shaven face.
He had, in fact, told Tommy this at least three times already. Still, Tommy feels his eyes go soft like it’s the first time. He brushes their noses together and hums teasingly. “I think I could stand to hear it again.”
“You,” Evan starts, dropping a smiling kiss to Tommy’s lips with each word, “are,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “handsome,” kiss.
By the last kiss Tommy’s smile is big enough to match Evan’s, and he hears an honest-to-god giggle burst out of his own throat. He feels his nose scrunch and his crow’s feet deepen and Evan must like all of that because he leans in to kiss him again. There’s no heat behind it; just light and happiness shared between the two of them.
“You look like sunshine,” Tommy says. He’s been thinking it all day but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Evan makes him feel like he’s in a romcom and he finds himself saying things he never thought he could.
If possible, Evan’s face glows even brighter. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Tommy drops another soft kiss to Evan’s pink, plush, perfect lips.
“What does that mean?” Evan kisses him again, longer, even though he’d just asked a question. The kiss is still light but he uses his hand on Tommy’s cheek to encourage his jaw open.
“You’re warm,” Tommy kisses him, “radiant,” kiss, “beautiful,” kiss.
“Beautiful?” Evan asks. “You think I’m beautiful?” He ducks his head shyly.
“Evan,” Tommy says. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out.” He moves his mouth down to Evan’s neck, pressing light kisses into the skin above his collar. “You make all the stiff wax melt off of me. You make me feel alive.”
“Babe,” Evan sighs. Their medals clink together again as Evan pulls him even closer.
The hand on Tommy’s cheek moves to dig into his shoulder, his other hand grasping Tommy’s waist. This is where it could turn. Tommy could let it get heated, could press Evan against the wall and suck at the bolt of his jaw the way he knows Evan goes crazy for. He could get a hand on Evan’s ass and pull their hips together, groaning into Evan’s mouth and swallowing down the noises he makes in return.
Evan would let him. Evan would love it, he always does. But they only have a limited time before someone comes looking for them, and it would be a distraction from the conversation Tommy knows they need to have before they go back inside. So he keeps it gentle, loving. He trails kisses from Evan’s neck across his jaw and up to his cheek before he pulls back to look Evan in the eyes.
“I’m sorry if I brought you down a little in there. This is a hard day for me already, being here, and then to see Gerrard again…” Tommy takes a deep breath. “I feel so small around him. I don’t feel like a whole person. Him knowing I’m gay was the worst thing I could imagine for so many years. And now he does. I know things are different now. I’m out, I’m happy with who I am, generally, but in this building, standing in front of him, it’s like I’m twenty-five and terrified again. I didn’t mean to flinch like that when you tried to hold my hand. I don’t want to hide you, I don’t want to make you hide—I do understand the irony in all of this—but I want to keep you safe. He knows how to hurt people. He’ll use me against you, and I just don’t want to give him any ammunition.”
“Tommy,” Evan says, leaning forward until their noses brush. “You can’t protect me from something I want.”
Tommy’s mouth drops open a little. “You want him to have something against you?”
Evan smiles; pure and sweet and not taking the bait. “I want everyone to know I’m yours. If he has something bad to say about us, fine, but he’ll have to say it about both of us. You’re not alone in this. I’m right here with you. I- I want to be, if you’ll let me.”
Tommy remembers the pizza restaurant. He remembers Evan, nervous and fraying around the edges with the raw newness of this part of himself, but still so beautiful he’d taken Tommy’s breath away. He remembers the panic on Evan’s face as his best friend caught him on a date with a man. He remembers deciding to spare Evan the all too familiar pain and humiliation of trying to date a man before he’s ready. He remembers the slump of Evan’s shoulders and the deep disappointment on his face when Tommy said he was cutting the date short.
He remembers Evan calling him only days later and asking to meet up; completely over the fear of his bisexual awakening and ready to go all in with Tommy in front of everyone he loves.
Tommy had known then that there was something special about Evan; that the shrinking man he’d been on their first date was a fluke, an irregularity. A blip. The man sitting across from him at the cafe—big heart on his sleeve and big hand tucked safely between Tommy’s own for everyone to see—that was the real Evan Buckley.
You can’t protect me from something I want, Evan said. And Tommy realizes he needs to stop trying to. Evan is brave enough for both of them.
“Okay,” Tommy says. “I want that too. Who cares, right?”
“Yeah?” Evan beams.
“Yeah,” Tommy affirms.
He’s in awe of this man; beautiful and sunshiney and strong. He makes Tommy want to be brave. He makes Tommy feel like he can be. Tommy has never had a partner want to sit in his problems with him; to stand by his side and take his weight when he staggers from the recurring force of his traumas. He’s been alone for so long that he’s not sure he knows how to let him, but he’s going to try his damnedest to figure it out.
“Are you ready to go back inside? I bet they’re cutting the cake by now,” Evan says, biting his lip and looking hopeful. He takes Tommy’s hand and plays with his fingers; an adorable habit that Tommy hopes he continues for years to come.
He looks so cute that Tommy just laughs. “Lead the way, baby.”
Tommy had tried telling Evan what he thought was right for him when he’d left their date. He’d thought he was helping Evan, but he had been wrong. Now, he’s prepared to let Evan lead him where he wants them to go. Tommy would follow him anywhere. Into a hurricane, to his sister’s wedding, in front of the man who still inspires nightmares to this day: it doesn’t matter. From now on where Evan goes, Tommy goes. Evan’s got him. Evan is brave.
Evan holds his hand while they make their way back inside. He holds his hand while they make a beeline for the cake. Tommy allows himself to be tugged along in front of everyone. Just like at the wedding, there is no mistaking who they are to each other.
Evan eats his cake in two bites, then leaves Tommy with a sugary kiss to grab another slice. Hen and Karen corner Tommy before he can take his first bite, like they were waiting for Evan to leave so they could pounce. They tell him lovingly but firmly that he needs to take this relationship at Evan’s pace. Tommy laughs out loud and reassures them that that’s exactly what he’s doing; what he intends to continue doing. He’s along for the ride and he’s never been happier.
He watches as Evan gets distracted by Christopher on his way back. Eddie had taken his medal off and draped it around his son’s neck (and Tommy wonders if he, too, is chafing against the label of hero. Tommy knows about his silver star, after all; knows what someone has to go through to get it). He’s taking pictures of Evan and Christopher with their matching medals and smiling even more than they are. There’s so much love between them that Tommy can feel it from across the room.
Everywhere Tommy looks, he sees Evan’s family: his work family, his biological family, the niece where those lines overlap. Where once this would make Tommy jealous, now he just feels hopeful. If he plays his cards right, this will be his family too. He’ll have years to make new memories in this firehouse; good ones to wash away the bad. He’s already starting to.
Evan makes his way back with an apology in his eyes—which Tommy shakes his head at; no need—and kisses his cheek. Evan leans into his side and he leans back. Tommy checks himself for nerves at this blatant display but can’t seem to find them anymore. Whatever residual fear Gerrard had drilled into his instincts, Evan has melted away.
Falling in love with Evan feels safe. It feels like coming home after a long hard day and sinking into a hot bath. It feels easy.
Evan is good. This relationship is good for him. Already, he feels transformed. Fifteen minutes alone with Evan and the stresses that had him collapsing in on himself feel like distant memories. Like they happened to someone else.
Tommy has had too many disappointments in his life to believe that good things last, but from the beginning something about Evan has felt different. He thinks that maybe—maybe—the universe will make an exception for him this time. Maybe he’ll get to keep this.