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Tommy Kinard watched as his ancient cat (who apparently still thought she was a kitten), jumped onto the windowsill and stared out of the window. Glancing up at the grandfather clock on the wall, he pulled himself off the couch. 8.15pm. Evan would be there any moment, and somehow, Mittens (or if he was being formal, Ms. Mittens) knew that. How that cat knew how to tell the time, he didn’t know, but apparently she did. She had been his own furry alarm clock for as long as he could remember. If he dared to sleep in til 7am, he was woken with a prod from a claw on his foot, or the comforter was pulled from over his head, quickly followed by kitty breath assaulting his nose.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He sighed, “Tell me when he’s here, OK?”
He had only gotten a few steps out of the living room when he heard a loud meow, and turning around to face the front door, he saw a figure heading up the path through the frosted glass. Almost instantly, Mittens was at his heel, and she followed him to the door, watching as he opened it, then sat beside her owner, patiently waiting.
Tommy frowned as he studied the figure limping up the path, his old, battered holdall slung over his shoulder (Tommy had offered to get him a new one for Christmas, but Evan had just said that his old one was “fine”). He had a downcast expression on his face, which disappeared as soon as he looked towards Tommy and Mittens.
“Hey.” He smiled, but to Tommy it seemed forced. He’d had a bad day, that much was obvious, and his leg was bothering him again. There was no point in bringing it up, though. Over the past year or so, he’d learned that if Evan wanted to talk about it, he would. If he didn’t, well, it’d be shut down, and it’d only end up in an argument.
“Hey yourself, come on, dinner is almost done.” Tommy called back. As soon as Evan reached him, he was greeted with a kiss before Evan reached down and picked up Mittens, who whined in protest, but after a few hushed words, relaxed in his arms.
“You’ll get fur all over your sweater.” Tommy warned, but Evan just shrugged.
“I don’t care, do I, baby? You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He cooed as the tabby purred. Their tabby. OK, so she had been Tommy’s first, but these days it seemed like he had gone down in the pecking order. Whenever Evan stayed over, she always slept beside him. When he wasn’t there, she curled up on his pillow contentedly. She was always in his lap when they watched TV. Tommy had almost started to think that the only reason she loved him was because he provided treats and food, and let her out in the huge catio that he’d built in the garden.
Shaking his head fondly, he headed towards the kitchen, pulling out the painkillers that Evan had left in the cabinet for when he stayed over. And thinking about it, he couldn’t even remember the last time his boyfriend stayed at his own place. If he wasn’t at work, he was at the firehouse, or, on a Friday night, Eddie’s couch after their long-standing Buckley-Diaz movie night, now that Christopher was back home where he belonged. And Tommy couldn’t even be mad at that. He’d learned a long time ago that the Diaz guys were Evan’s family just as much as Maddie and Chimney were, he’d been in their life for years, practically helped bring up Christopher. Tommy couldn’t take that away from any of them.
Placing the pills in the small medicine cup he kept in the cupboard, he looked around the kitchen, taking note of the things that had seemingly crept into the room when he hadn’t been looking. An apron that read “real men bake cookies”, and Christmas gift from Eddie last year. A brand new set of knives in a knife block (because “your knives suck, Tommy!”). A mug with the bisexual pride flag printed on it – a coming out gift from Hen and Karen. A Hildy speaker so that Evan could listen to music when he was cooking. A photo of Evan and Christopher from the party that they’d thrown when the teen had gotten back from Texas.
In the living room, he knew that there was more stuff that had slowly appeared. Games beside the PlayStation that Tommy hadn’t bought. Dog-eared books on the shelf that Tommy wouldn’t read. A phone charger that pulsed blue when it was plugged in (that Mittens wouldn’t go near, because it was far too bright and scary for her). An ornament that Tommy hid whenever Evan wasn’t there, because it was so, so hideous. He’d bought it at a Thrift store for a dollar – a gaudily painted donkey, affectionately named “ugly donkey”, which Evan only bought for the sole reason that it was ugly.
The bathroom contained twice as many products as it used to.
The closet space in the bedroom seemed to be getting smaller by the day. As did the shoe and coat racks in the hall.
The garage now had a corner where Evan’s bike and a few of his weights lived.
Pulling the rosemary focaccia from the oven (store bought, because, although Tommy wasn’t a bad cook, he wasn’t above choosing convenience over effort), he found himself chuckling to himself. Evan had pretty much moved in by this point. They really should make it official. Maybe he’d bring it up later.
Once dinner was served, Tommy called Evan through, looking pointedly at the medicine cup that he’d strategically placed beside his water glass, and Evan rolled his eyes.
“I’m fine, Tommy.” He sighed, but downed the painkillers anyway.
“Yeah, your leg says otherwise.” Tommy retorted. “You’ve been limping since before you got in the house.” Evan let out a groan, knowing he was beat, and then slid into the chair, wincing in pain. “That bad, huh?”
“It’s been fine for months, then I have one little stumble and I’m right back to where I started.” Evan complained. “Bobby made me stay behind for the last two calls too.” He moaned, and Tommy looked at him in sympathy. Evan hated being man behind, almost as much as Tommy did. There was something depressing about watching the rest of your team leave without you. And if Bobby had benched Evan, it must have been bad. “Sorry, I know we were planning on that hike tomorrow, but I’m not sure I can make it.”
“Well, we can curl up on the couch, catch up on Law & Order and stay in our pajamas all day instead.” Tommy suggested, receiving a disappointed nod in return. “I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re together.” Ugh, that sounded so much better in his head. When the words came out loud they sounded cheesy and, what Christopher would call, lame. But Evan didn’t seem to mind as he slid his hand over the table and placed it on Tommy’s.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll even order the popcorn.” He smiled.
---
Buck lay back on the couch. Jeopardy was playing, but he wasn’t really paying attention to it, only the heavy cat curled up on his stomach, purring and nudging him when he stopped stroking her head.
Tommy was still in the kitchen, because even though Buck had argued that he was fine to clean up, his boyfriend was having none of it, ordering him to go and rest. And although it annoyed him, he knew Tommy was right. Bobby had been right earlier, too, telling him that if he pushed himself too much, he’d be looking at a longer recovery and time off, something he didn’t want to face. OK, it might have been nice to have a few days off, but he knew that he’d soon get bored (although maybe not, if Tommy was here. He could think of some activities that didn’t involve his sore leg.). So, trying to rest and relax for the next couple of days it was.
Mittens’ head lifted as she heard the sound of the kitchen light being switched off, and Buck turned his to look at the door, but the footsteps only paused outside, then started again, heading down the hall. Buck was sure if Mittens could shrug, she would have as she yawned and laid her head back down.
It was almost fifteen minutes later before the door opened, and hearing her owner utter the word “dinner”, she stood up and jumped from Buck’s stomach before running towards Tommy and rubbing against his leg, mewing loudly at him.
“You did mention the magic word.” Buck laughed, watching as the cat pawed at Tommy’s jeans.
“I know, I know.” He sighed, following her to the kitchen, where she stood at her food bowl and looked up expectantly at him, Buck following close behind.
“Nuh-uh, you’re going to the bathroom, bath’s ready for you. And it’s scalding hot, just the way you like it.” Tommy ordered, and obediently, Buck limped down the hall and opened the bathroom door, letting out a gasp as he saw the sight in front of him.
The massive bath, sunken in a wooden platform, was filled with steaming water and bubbles. Candles were arranged on the back edge, and on the side nearest to Buck, his Kindle sat, along with a glass of wine, right next to the swinging shelf that Tommy had installed a few months ago, just for Buck. He’d spent hours making it, and it was attached to the side of the bath, in just the right place for Buck to reach it.
Easing himself into the bath, he groaned as the water washed over him, then pulled the shelf over before opening the book he’d been reading on the small device. He had gotten so engrossed in it that he didn’t notice the door open, or Tommy walk in, until he heard the music playing from the speaker in the corner.
“Hope this is OK for you, baby.” Tommy murmured, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend on the top of his head.
“You really didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, but you looked like you needed it.” Tommy replied. “And I haven’t spoiled you enough lately. Don’t want you leaving me for someone better.” He teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m gonna go finish the movie I was watching. Some crappy thing about a memory serum and the hunt for a million dollars. Guy looks a bit like Eddie, you know, if he decided he wanted to be Jesus. Anyway, towels are on the radiator, take all the time you need.”
Buck wasn’t sure exactly how long he stayed in there, but he got out and wrapped himself in a towel when the water started to get cold. Padding down the hall, he crept into the bedroom.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, much better.” Buck replied. He wasn’t sure what exactly Tommy had put in the bath, but it felt like magic. All his aches were pretty much gone, except for the one in his leg, but even that had dulled down to a niggle. Crawling on top of the bed, he lay there, the towel covering him, although he wasn’t sure why. The room was warm enough, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other naked before. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Tommy rolled over and triumphantly pulled out a red tube from his bedside drawer, and without a word, he squeezed some gel onto his hands and started to rub it into Buck’s leg, making him moan in pleasure.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“No, it feels amazing.” Buck murmured, already half-asleep. “If I’d known you were this good with your hands, I’d have proposed a long time ago.”
Tommy stopped rubbing for a second, then resumed almost as quickly.
“If you’d asked, I’d have accepted.” He eventually replied, so quietly that Buck barely heard him, and it took a moment for those words to register in his head. Sitting up, he almost made Tommy fall to the floor, and the older man leaned on the bed to keep himself upright.
“You, you what?” Buck stammered. Because there was no way that Tommy had just said-
“If you’d asked, I would have accepted.” Yup, that’s what he thought he’d said. Shuffling down on the bed, blue eyes met blues, and Buck felt his heart hammering in his chest. Tommy licked his lips nervously, and Buck reached over to him, threading their fingers together.
“So if I asked you now...?” He had to be sure, just before he blew his whole life up again. And Tommy just nodded, watching as Buck drew circles on his hand with his thumb. “Well, in that case, Thomas Kinard, I love you, you are the sweetest, most amazing person I’ve ever met. And you have a hot body too, which is a bonus.” Tommy let out a small chuckle at that, but his eyes flicked back up to meet Buck’s. “And all I want to do is spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
“Let me think about it?” Tommy’s eyes glinted in the low light of the bedroom, and he leaned forwards to press his forehead against Buck’s. “Of course I’ll marry you, Evan.” He grinned, pulling his boyfriend, no, fiancé, in for a wet, teary kiss. And although it was sloppy, it was absolutely perfect. “And here I was going to ask you to move in. You had to outdo me, didn’t you?” He teased as he pulled away, and Buck let out a watery sniff as he laughed.
“Always. But, you know, we can do that too. And then we’ve got a wedding to plan! God, I need to order some clipboards and...”
Tommy let out a fond groan, remembering the day he visited the 118 a couple of months back, Chimney’s words echoing in his ears. “Never give Buck a clipboard.”
But then again, he couldn’t be that bad, right?