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Okay, food, Buck thinks as he hops down from the cab of the engine. Then he catches sight of his face in the side mirror, soot streaked with runnels of clean skin where his sweat has run down. Shower, first. Then, food Except he also needs to clean and dry his turnout gear and hang it up again so it’s ready for their next call. But before he can move, a hand circles his waist.
Tommy’s face appears next to his in the side mirror’s reflection.
All thoughts of cleaning abandon his brain like it’s hit an ice burg and is sinking into the Atlantic as the band plays on. Buck can’t help but smile, matching Tommy’s crinkly grin. “Hey,” he breathes, not wanting to take his eyes of Tommy’s face but also wanting so desperately to kiss him.
The latter want wins out and Buck turns in Tommy’s arms, puts his hands on Tommy’s waist, and kisses him.
It’s nothing like the sweet, tentative first kiss they shared, nor is it hungry and devouring. They take their time, lips now familiar with one another, no tongue; Buck’s still at work after all. But he nibbles Tommy’s lower lip and Tommy groans. Tommy’s hands drift lower down Buck’s back.
Buck moves, walking them until Tommy’s back is pressed against the fire engine.
A wolf whistle carries down from the kitchen.
Buck reluctantly stops kissing Tommy but he doesn’t pull away yet. He nuzzles Tommy’s nose with his, just breathing Tommy in.
“I think we have an audience,” Tommy says, opening his eyes.
Buck’s world narrows, filled with nothing but Tommy’s gaze: that ridiculous blue. He will happily drown in Tommy’s eyes. “Let them watch.” Buck’s gaze drifts down to Tommy’s lips as Tommy smiles one of his goofy little smiles like he can’t believe how lucky he is.
Which is ridiculous because Buck can’t believe how lucky he is because why would someone as cool and as smart and as interesting as Tommy want to be with a walking disaster like him? With a guy who didn’t even know that checking out hot dudes’ asses was not straight person behavior? With – as Eddie would say – an idiot? Not that Eddie had meant it in a bad way, Buck knows and accepts that he’s not always the sharpest knife in the block. Anyway, Buck is the lucky one in the relationship.
“You know we can see you, right?” Hen calls down from the loft. She’s already showered and changed into a fresh uniform since she and Chimney were able to return to the station first after running a patient to the hospital while the rest of them had remained at the scene of the house fire to check for hot spots and ensure full containment.
Tommy turns away from Buck to say hello to Hen, which means Buck’s treated to a view of Tommy’s profile: his brow ridge, the slope of his nose, the little smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. And then there are Tommy’s ear lobes, currently sporting the little gold studs he wears when he’s off shift. It takes every ounce of self-control for Buck not to lean forward and suck his boyfriend’s ear lobe into his mouth and roll his tongue over that little gold earring for God and his coworkers to see.
“Buckaroo, if I have to witness anything that goes above a PG rating just know I will be telling your sister about it in excruciating detail so we can trauma bond about it,” says Chimney, joining Hen at the railing, just as clean and fresh.
Buck sighs and reluctantly steps back from Tommy, leaving about six inches between them. “Hi,” he says, because he can’t remember if they’ve actually said hello to each other yet.
“Hi, Evan.” There goes that crinkly smile again doing things to Buck’s heart that are warm and fuzzy, but also too big and frightening to put into words just yet, even though those words buzz at the back of his brain almost constantly when he’s with Tommy. Three little words on a constant loop.
“You’re here,” says Buck, stating the obvious. Unless of course Tommy isn’t actually there and Buck’s still asleep in his bunk dreaming about finishing a call and finding Tommy at the station. He quickly checks that he can read the words “Serving with Courage, Integrity, and Pride” on the side of the engine. He can, so it’s not a dream. Tommy is here and isn’t that a marvel?
“Surprise,” Tommy says with a little waggle of his eyebrows. He leans in and gives Buck a quick peck. “I’ll let you clean your gear and hit the showers while I help make lunch.”
Buck nods along, still utterly transfixed by the sight of Tommy’s lips moving, forming words. He gets to kiss those lips. Those lips have trailed kisses down his body…Buck realizes Tommy is saying something and he hasn’t processed a single word because his mind is back in the bedroom. “Sorry, what was that?”
“Clean your gear, kid,” Tommy extricates himself from between Buck and the engine and ruffles Buck’s sweaty curls with a grin before heading upstairs.
“Yeah, cleaning. Gear,” Buck echoes, keeping his eyes on Tommy’s ass as he climbs the stairs. Again, he can’t believe his luck. Again those words loop through his mind.
“You can ogle your boyfriend later, Buckley,” Chim calls.
Buck shakes his head and gets to work.
#
Buck cleans his gear at lightspeed and rushes his shower, probably leaving some soot and smoky smell that he’ll need to clean off properly once the shift is done. His skin buzzes with the need to return to Tommy’s orbit. He towels off quickly and leaves his hair to air dry before throwing on a clean pair of uniform pants and an LAFD tee shirt. He’s barely done up his boot laces before he’s racing out of the locker room and up to the loft.
Buck restrains himself enough that he doesn’t quite tackle Tommy with a hug, but it’s a near thing. Tommy gives a surprised “oof” as Buck’s arms circle him, and he lifts Tommy a couple inches off the ground.
“Hey!” Tommy gives him a kiss on the birthmark before Buck puts him back down. Buck has certain goals when it comes to lifting Tommy. He’s not quite there yet, but he’s getting close.
Once they’re eye to eye again, Buck touches his nose to Tommy’s and just breathes him in: all citrus and sandalwood with the barest hint of smoke and engine oil underneath. It drives Buck more than a little crazy.
Buck also can’t get over how much he likes being with someone the same height as him. That they can just walk up to each other and kiss or touch noses or foreheads without either of them having to bend down. Not that Buck hadn’t liked being with his past (shorter) female partners, it’s just that the difference with Tommy is still new and exciting and it makes Buck feel connected in a way he’s never felt before like he’s finally found a plug that fits him without needing an adaptor, like he’s finally found the true meaning of those three little words and it’s Tommy.
Buck reluctantly slides one arm free, leaving the other at Tommy’s back as they join the rest of the team at the kitchen counter.
Chim slathers his sandwich with mayo and asks, “So, Tommy, what brings you here this fine afternoon? Not enough to do on your day off?”
Buck wonders the same. “Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he says, “but I thought we weren’t going to meet up until after my shift ends tomorrow.”
Tommy shrugs. “I was in the area, running some errands, and I thought I’d stop by to see you. I kinda didn’t want to have wait until tomorrow.”
“Aww,” Hen says. “I think I’m gonna get a cavity.”
Buck throws a piece of lettuce at her from his own sandwich preparations.
“How’s Karen?” Tommy asks, heading off the retaliatory piece of ham that Hen is gearing up to throw at Buck. He plucks the ham out of Hen’s hand and lays it with a flourish on Buck’s sandwich.
Buck lets their conversation wash over him as he finishes prepping his lunch, suddenly aware of how violently hungry he is now that food is within sight. As he layers meat and cheese and veg, he marvels at the fact that Tommy is here with Buck on his day off. Sure, Buck’s girlfriends would sometimes visit him at the station, but it was usually for holiday parties or meeting up at the end of his shift, not just dropping by at random.
Sure, Buck’s girlfriends have all been busy people: Abby had her shifts at dispatch and her dying mother; Aly had her hectic travel schedule; Taylor was always ready to cut their time together short in pursuit of a scoop. Natalia’s schedule was the most flexible of all his girlfriends’ but compatible schedules had not made for compatible people not when the only thing she’d seen in him was his death.
Of all his romantic partners, Tommy has the least compatible schedule compared to Buck’s. Their shifts are often aligned so that one of them is working when the other isn’t and only rarely do their days off align. But Tommy makes the most of what time they do have and finds ways to stretch their time together and fit in moments together when it would be perfectly reasonable for him to want to go home after a long shift and sleep. It’s like Tommy doesn’t want to waste any time, like he’s holding onto Buck with everything he has, and no one has ever done that for Buck before. Maybe those three little words are also looping, unsaid, through Tommy’s mind, though Buck tries not to let himself succumb to hope. It’ll hurt too much if he’s wrong.
“What you thinking about?” Tommy asks, breath tickling Buck’s ear.
“You,” says Buck. Because he’s always thinking about Tommy these days, not in a way that feels obsessive. It’s natural. He’ll be in the grocery store and see a brand of pasta he knows Tommy likes. Or he’ll see a classic car parked on the street somewhere and think that Tommy would be able to tell him everything about it. Certain songs make him think of Tommy, certain smells. When it rains, he wants to snuggle with Tommy on the couch. When it’s sunny he wants to go hiking or biking with Tommy. When he falls down a wiki hole he wants to be able to turn to Tommy and info dump whether Tommy’s with him or not. When they’re together, Buck finds himself filled with an awareness of everything Tommy does, even if he’s not looking at Tommy directly, like he’s developed a sixth sense that’s entirely dedicated to Tommy.
Those three little words circle nearer and nearer and, in that moment, Buck’s not afraid of them. “That I love you,” he adds.
Tommy’s eyes widen, and then his face crinkles. “Evan,” he says in a tone that Buck knows means that Tommy loves him too.
Bobby clears his throat and suddenly they’re both reminded that they’re not alone, that Buck is in fact at work, and every single one of his coworkers just heard him say that he loves Tommy for the first time over a half-made sandwich. “What?” he asks, daring his friends to comment.
Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.
“I think it’s sweet,” says Hen. She has her phone out. “Karen’s going to love this.”
“Wait! You filmed that?” Buck asks. “How did you even know to start filming?” He rounds the corner to look over Hen’s shoulder. “Send that to me.”
“Will do Buckaroo,” says Hen. “I just had a feeling.”
“I could kiss you Henrietta Wilson,” Buck gives her a too enthusiastic hug.
“Please don’t.” Hen shrugs out of his hug but she’s smiling so Buck knows he hasn’t crossed any lines.
“You could kiss me,” says Tommy and Buck does.