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Buck feels like he’s already gone several rounds in the ring before he even sets foot into the gym. His muscles aching, his ego bruised and Gerrard’s words still knocking around in his skull, he wants nothing more than to slam his fist against a punching bag and fantasize that the sand-filled leather sack is actually his captain’s face.
“Well, aren’t you a barrel of laughs this evening?” Tommy remarks dryly as Buck makes his entrance known by slamming his bag unceremoniously onto the floor.
Buck merely grunts in response, resisting the urge to bury his head in his boyfriend’s shoulder in pursuit of comfort but he knows that the older man would only reluctantly entertain his complaints about his bad day at work. He looks down at his hands, still shaking with just as much force as they were back at the firehouse, but Tommy doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t pay much mind to it.
“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Tommy smirks, pausing his warm-up for a moment to look in Buck’s direction, a flirty look in his eye. “Let me guess, tough day at the office?”
“Something like that,” Buck shrugs off his sweatshirt.
Buck tries to focus his energy on warming up, stretching out his fatigued limbs and trying to still his breaths. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion that he feels, but he’s not sure any word would be able to accurately capture the boiling rage that brews in his stomach, the fire deep in the bottom of his chest.
The last call of the day had been a complicated one, a multiple car pileup on the freeway, caused by a fuel tank being driven on the wrong side of the road; the type of call that places them right in the eye of the storm, at the heart of the danger, quite literally in the direct line of fire. Buck can still feel the flames licking at his skin, the hot sweat beneath his turnout coat, the chemical stench of the fire-suppressing foam still coating the lining of his nostrils. Buck doesn’t remember much of what exactly happened, the adrenaline from the event and its consequences still pulsing through his veins; to cut a long story short, Gerrard had called out one order but the team had done the opposite, and thank god they did. If they had listened to Gerrard and moved forward on his command before the bigger foam truck arrived on scene, not one of them would have lived to tell the tale.
Not that Captain Gerrard entertained this excuse for ignoring his authority for even a second. Buck could barely listen to Gerrard’s tirades at his colleagues before he was jumping in to take the blame, to try and take the heat off of his friends, resulting in him being the one to receive the worst of the lectures.
And yet today’s events are nothing new; the situation with Gerrard reaching such a breaking point has been long overdue. The team are doing their best to keep track of his behavior and report him, but it’s becoming ever more obvious that they will have to tackle several bureaucratic hurdles to oust the man from his position. They are pretty sure that something sinister is happening behind the scenes with the higher ups, who seem to be doing everything in their power to keep Vincent Gerrard at the helm of the 118.
Buck hates more than anything to see his team like this. Hen is at the end of her tether, bearing the brunt of his bullshit and taking the lead in their so-far futile efforts to get rid of the man. Chimney’s frustration has reached an all time high, the authoritarian rules that have been put in place for no reason other than to exert control make it damn near impossible for him to do his job to the best of his ability. Ravi is trying his best to keep his spirits high and stay positive, but Gerrard seems to take some sort of sick pleasure out of teasing the young firefighter and landing him with the short end of the stick, forcing him into the messiest and most demanding jobs with an almost villainous glee. With everything that is going on outside of work, Eddie is not in a very good place generally, and whilst under Bobby’s leadership he could have reached out to ask for some time off or for adjustments to support around his mental health, under Gerrard’s rule this is not an option. This, paired with Gerrard’s many underhanded comments has left him exhausted and burnt out, and seriously considering quitting the 118 again.
Buck himself just feels at a loss, useless as he watches his team’s morale slowly begin to run dry. He has got off easy in comparison so far, usually able to dodge the worst of Gerrard’s behavior but the fact that he’s quieter, less outgoing, less prone to start the morning with a barrage of his usual fun facts has not gone unnoticed by his team.
“Ready to get started?” Tommy asks, laughing when it takes Buck a moment longer than it should to process a response. “Evan?”
“Yeah, um, ready to go,” Buck nods, shaking his hands in an effort to get rid of the buzzing sensation beneath his skin.
They start sparring, taking turns to attack and defend, to punch and to parry. Tommy’s movements are more exact, a form inherent behind his kicks and jabs in comparison to Buck’s more sporadic dodging and weaving, his punches less calculated and more impulsive. Tommy gives him pointers as they play-fight and soon they are moving over to the punching bag to hone Buck’s technique instead.
Buck wishes he could say that he feels better now that he has worked up a sweat, hoping that it would help to channel his restlessness into something physical and productive. At the end of today’s shift he had considered calling Tommy to ask for a raincheck on their weekly standing workout date, claiming a bad headache that wouldn’t entirely be a lie considering his skull has felt like it’s about to split in two since leaving Gerrard’s office. He had decided against it, seeking his boyfriend’s company more than anything and not entirely convinced that if he canceled, Tommy would still drop by his place to check on him. He also figured that the workout would help at least somewhat, to burn off some energy and to take his feelings out on the poor punching bag, but so far, his efforts just leave him more pent up than he was before.
“What’s wrong with you today, Evan?” Tommy asks playfully, almost a little smug.
“I’m fine,” Buck says in between breathless, frenzied punches. “Long day.”
Tommy uses a firm hand to steady the punching bag, smirking in response when Buck glares back at him, willing for him to move out of the way. Even as Buck’s breaths quicken and his anger becomes even more palpable, the older man just chuckles and lets the tension hang in the air for a second, clearly enjoying watching as his boyfriend grows more frustrated.
“I can think of a way I could help you blow off some steam,” Tommy remarks, his hands to Buck’s shoulders, continuing to shift his hands towards his collarbones even as he resists the touch.
“Not right now, Tommy,” Buck shrugs him off, returning to his boxing stance and waiting for Tommy to move out of the way.
Tommy takes a step aside, crossing his arms and watching intently as Buck resumes his brawl with the punching bag.
“Do you want to talk about it, or do you just want to keep taking it out on me and the poor punching bag?” he raises his brow, lips pursed into a smirk before he appears to roll his eyes. “So what did Gerrard do this time?”
“What didn’t he do?” Buck sucks in air through his teeth, seething. “He nearly got us all killed and then had the fucking audacity to chew me out for disobeying his orders when those exact orders would have gotten us blown into smithereens!”
“Just another typical Friday with the 118, then?”
“It’s not funny, Tommy. He’s out of control, and I don’t know how much longer I can do this without losing my mind and I’m-”
“Hey, woah. Slow down, Evan. What have I told you a million times before?”
“Tommy, I-”
“He’s not worth it. He’s not worth the time or energy of making a big deal out of this. Come on, aren’t you tired of this? Aren’t you tired of us having this same conversation, week upon week? It’s getting to be a bit like a broken record.”
Buck nods, not because he agrees with Tommy but because he’s too overwhelmed to even consider a measured response. It sometimes feels like trying to broach certain topics with Tommy is like talking to a brick wall, and at first, he gives him the benefit of the doubt, assuming that the man’s time with Gerrard as captain at the 118 is a touchy subject he doesn’t particularly enjoy having to rehash, but as time progresses and they have more of these types of conversations, it’s as if Tommy shuts it down out of nothing more than a lack of interest in entertaining what he describes as Buck’s tendency to blow things wildly out of proportion, to make a mountain out of a molehill.
And okay, maybe he does. That’s what he loves about Tommy; his ability to stay rational even in the most dire of situations. Buck admits he has an almost pathological tendency to work himself into a state over even the most inconsequential things, hyper-fixating on the tiniest perceived slight from a friend, or getting locked onto the need to try and fix a small detail, or losing sleep for days on end after a call at work gone wrong. He likes that Tommy’s response in these types of situations is always a rational one, where he appears to be able to take a step back and assess the situation, to take the emotions out of the equation to a degree and bring him back down to earth.
Except Tommy seems to do this in all situations, even when Buck is freaking out completely in proportion to the magnitude of the situation; by taking the emotions out of the equation, it makes Buck feel like his emotions don’t matter, like they are invalid, like they have no place.
He feels guilty for taking out today’s frustrations on Tommy; it’s not his fault that he had a bad day, that Gerrard was intent on making his life hell. He finds himself being the one to apologize, allowing Tommy to wave off his ‘sorries’ with a half-laugh and change the subject, turning his attention to Buck’s fighting form once more. He knows he’s just over-stimulated and exhausted, stuck in a heightened state of arousal that has left him tetchy and easy to irritate, prone to interpreting the slightest action as negative.
That’s just how Tommy is, he tries to tell himself. He’s not the sappy, talk-about-your-feelings type, his patience quickly wearing thin any time Buck tries to open up to him, or talk out his feelings after a tough day at work. Buck pretends he doesn’t mind, but he sometimes wishes his boyfriend would make more of an effort to take care of him in this way; to reciprocate the care that he provides. And it’s not like he doesn’t take care of Buck. After a particularly difficult week, Buck had tried to broach the conversation with him, but he couldn’t quite get the words right, and thus things had spiraled into a heated argument; Buck claiming that he felt like Tommy didn’t care about him enough, and Tommy citing the many ways in which he does show care. He pays for most of their dates, takes care of him in the bedroom, gives him Muay Thai and flying lessons. He can recall several romantic acts that he has planned over the past months; elaborate trips to Vegas, fancy dinners, inordinately expensive birthday gifts.
Except Buck can’t help but feel that this isn’t what he needs. Whilst he appreciates the showy romantic gestures, he doesn’t need to be wined and dined or showered with expensive gifts; that’s not what being in a relationship is about to him.
To Buck, relationships are about intimacy, except he knows exactly what Tommy would say if he was to turn around and tell him that; they have plenty of intimacy. Some would even say they are perhaps too intimate, Tommy would likely joke with a half-smirk and a raised eyebrow.
Except intimacy is about more than just sex to Buck; sex isn’t even the most important part. Sure, sex is great; he loves sex but that isn’t the only kind of intimacy that he wants, that he needs. He had learnt a long time ago that intimacy in relationships is about stepping inside even the most difficult of times with his partner, to be the steady hand and kind voice when things become hard to bear.
Sometimes it feels like Tommy doesn’t even try; he seems to run a mile on the occasions during their relationship where Buck has been sad or hurt or sick, in need of a little TLC. Buck remembers sitting across from him at the dinner table in his loft after a sleepless few days of Bobby being in the hospital after his heart attack and Christopher leaving for Texas, barely able to string a sentence together. He had decided to go ahead with the long-planned dinner date despite the day’s events, hoping that an ounce of normality amongst the chaos and the company of his boyfriend would make him feel better, but the night had ended earlier than expected when Tommy realized Evan wasn’t exactly in the mood for the romantic festivities they’d planned by choosing to forego the steamy make-out session in favor of collapsing into bed in pursuit of nothing more than a much needed night’s sleep. Buck would have appreciated Tommy’s steady arms around him, the comfort of another’s breath beside him, to not wake up to find himself alone, his boyfriend long having left.
Tommy was also distinctly absent during Buck’s recovery after a minor back injury at work a few weeks ago left him stuck in bed, unable to do much more than watch movies and send loopy painkiller fuelled texts to his friends. He’d stop by once or twice, but his visits were short and few and far between, leaving Buck wondering if he had said or done something wrong whilst high on codeine that had left Tommy mad at him.
“Hello, earth to Evan?” Tommy waves a hand in his face, pulling him back into the present. “Do you want to call it a day? We’re not going to make any progress with you in this stinker of a mood.”
Buck doesn’t respond, squaring up to the punching bag again, throwing a few short punches in its direction. Part of him wants Tommy to grab his shoulders and pull him into a much needed hug, but part of him knows that there is no chance in hell his boyfriend will do so under his own volition, and he’s trying his best not to resent him for that.
“You can’t keep letting Gerrard get to you like this,” Tommy states, crossing his arms. “It’s not healthy.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” Buck throws his arms in the air.
“With Gerrard, you’ve got to just ignore him, keep out of his way.”
“Believe me, I’m trying. He’s just… He’s determined to get underneath our skin.”
“Probably because you’re so hell-bent on standing up to him. Come on Evan, I know you. You’re many things, but stubborn to a fault is sure as hell near the top of that list.”
“What else can I do? Do you want me to just sit there and stay quiet whilst he’s treating me and my friends like shit? You should hear some of the stuff he comes out with; am I just supposed to sit and listen when he’s spouting slurs and treating people like they’re nothing?”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to play along, smile and nod. Stop going out of your way to give him a reason to cause trouble all the time.”
Buck resists the urge to beat his fist against the punching bag.
“Is that what you did?” he snaps.
“Yeah, a little,” Tommy shrugs, suddenly defensive. “I mean, I was still in the closet. You know what it was like back then, I had to shut my mouth and blend in. That’s just the way it was, how we had to be.”
Buck had known that Tommy was admittedly an asshole during his time at the 118, but the exact details are sparse. His initial impression that he got from the limited information Hen and Chimney had told him had been that Tommy had merely been generally stand-offish to everyone; kept his guard up, wasn’t the type to try and make friends. Knowing the Tommy that he knows now, he hadn’t believed that Tommy had it in him to play an active part in the bigotry that was inherent to the team back then, but right now, he’s beginning to get the sense that perhaps he was wrong.
“Sometimes you just have to go along with it to protect yourself,” Tommy continues. “Sure, I probably said some things I might not have meant, that I shouldn’t have said but I had to, Evan. That’s just how it was back then.”
“I can’t believe you right now,” Buck shakes his head.
“Come on, Evan. Calm down. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be; you’re just… You always have to be so goddamn defensive when it comes to your little 118 family, don’t you?”
“What the-”
“I get it, they’re always going to come first. I get that, but sometimes you’ve got to have a little self-preservation, put yourself first.”
“I’m… What the fuck, Tommy?”
“I mean, I’d have loved to have had what you guys have, but the 118 wasn’t like that back then. I didn’t have that privilege-”
“No, you just had the privilege to choose to be a part of his little white boy’s club instead,” Buck tries to stop himself from raising his voice. “Instead of being a good person, an ally.”
Tommy laughs at the mention of the word ‘ally’. Buck doesn’t even know how to respond.
“An ally, really?” Tommy retorts. “Well we all know that you’re great at that, don’t we, Evan?”
Buck just glares back at him.
“I’m not out to Gerrard, but that doesn’t give me the excuse to be a shitty person,” Buck states firmly. “Sure, you have every right to keep yourself safe at work, that’s so important, but you also have a responsibility to keep your colleagues safe too.”
“I get that but-” Tommy tries.
“And keeping yourself safe gives you no right to play an active part in making that environment unsafe for your colleagues. No right.”
“The 118 wasn’t like how it is now-”
“Yeah, because you made it that way, Tommy!” Buck snaps. “You get what you give back. You don’t create an environment of respect, you don’t earn that respect back! Simple as that.”
“You don’t realize how lucky you are, Evan,” Tommy continues. “You and the 118, that’s the exception, not the reality for most people. You have people who care about you at work, who you feel safe around. We didn’t have that back then.”
“And do you know why I have that? Because those same people feel safe around me . It’s a two way street. The friendships I have with those people, they didn’t just fucking appear out of thin air; we built them, Tommy. Hen and Chimney, they forged those foundations from the ground up and every day, no matter what, we show up for each other, we hold each other accountable.”
“Evan-”
“No,” Buck says, this time more certain, more sure. “You were right, we should call it a day.”
Tommy knows immediately that Buck isn’t just referring to bringing today’s workout to a halt as he watches him grab his bag, leaving the room and walking out of the gym without a word.