Work Text:
Tommy had heard a lot of words to describe Evan Buckley through the LAFD grapevine. Nepo Baby. Womanizer. Hothead. Impulsive. Reckless. Careless. Idiotic. Those were all terms that had been thrown around Harbor when gossip eventually reached their doors. And Tommy had tried not to listen at first, but eventually he did. Curious as to his replacement at the 118, a station that sometimes he regretted leaving. Yeah, it had been bad sometimes. Gerrard was a complete asshole, especially to people he didn’t like (i.e. those who weren’t straight, white or male), but then Bobby Nash had taken charge and the whole place changed. They’d bet that he wouldn’t last a month. A Captain from the backwoods of Minnesota (or at least that’s what they imagined) running a busy firehouse in Los Angeles? They’d all assumed that he would go running back to the sticks. But he’d stuck it out. Firefighters who’d come to them from the 118, like Donato, or ones who did a few shifts there to make extra money had raved about the place. If it weren’t for the allure of flying, Tommy might have put his name on the list for a transfer back.
And then there were the stories about Buckley. Captain Nash’s adopted son who had taken Tommy’s spot. The kid that had gotten fired for stealing firetrucks for sex. The kid who argued with Athena Grant about a newborn baby who’d been flushed down the toilet (and to be honest, Tommy didn’t know where he’d got the balls. That woman could be scary). The kid who had gotten his leg trapped under a bombed ladder truck. Had been struck by lightning. Had almost died in a tsunami. And Tommy was beginning to wonder how many of these rumors were actually true. Because surely all of those things couldn’t happen to just one person? He found himself wanting to meet this man, just to ask him. But he couldn’t do that. He’d seem like some deranged stalker or something, and he absolutely did not want that. So, he’d resigned himself to the thought that he’d never meet him.
That was until he’d got a phonecall from Howie one night, worried that Captain Nash and Sargeant Grant were in trouble on a cruise ship just off Mexican waters. No questions asked, as was the silent agreement between them after Howie had saved his life, he’d fueled a chopper and met Howie outside Harbor station, flanked by two taller, and, he noticed, good-looking men, who were introduced to him as Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley. The man himself.
After they’d managed to rescue a group of people from the capsized ship, he noticed himself staring a little too long at the taller man. And he was ashamed to say that when his Captain had asked for volunteers to show Evan around the place, he’d jumped at the chance, brushing it off as “he was going to be there anyway”. It wasn’t a lie, he and Eddie were flying to Vegas that night anyway, but he absolutely was not going to ask anything about the rumors. Especially the sex ones.
After the tour, things got a little weird. Evan had sprained Eddie’s ankle during a basketball game, and when Tommy had gone over to his place to try and reassure Evan that he didn’t want to get into the middle of him and Eddie, they’d ended up flirting, and then kissing, which led to a disastrous date (apparently he’d triggered some sort of sexuality crisis in Evan). And somehow, that led to him sitting on the terrace of a coffee shop with the man sitting across from him, asking him to be his date to his sister’s wedding.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” He’d asked.
Impulsive.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Was the reply. They’d sat smiling at each other for a moment, then Evan frowned and stared down at the table.
“What’s wrong?” He’d asked, and Evan took a deep breath, his hands shaking. “Evan, are you OK?”
“I shouldn’t have asked.” His voice shook as he spoke, and his chair made a screeching sound on the ground as he pushed it backwards. “You know what, it doesn’t matter, forget I asked.” He had taken a few strides towards the exit, his coffee in his hand before Tommy could even think, and leaving his own coffee on the table, he jogged behind him, catching up with him within seconds.
“Evan, did I do something wrong?” Tommy asked, trying to replay the conversation in his head. Evan had asked him on a date, he’d said yes. Was he...not meant to say yes? Was he supposed to have refused? He was confused, which was only added to when Evan told him just to forget about him.
“How can I forget about you?” Tommy called as Evan started to walk away. “Please, just talk to me.” Evan eventually turned around to face him, and seeing the tears rolling down his face made Tommy want to wipe them all away.
“I...I can’t take you.” Evan stammered, and Tommy took another step forward until they were only inches apart.
“Look, if you’re not ready to come out yet, we can go as friends. I’m not going to pressure you.” That was the last thing he wanted to do, but Evan shook his head slowly.
“It’s not that. Uh, my parents, my birth parents will be there, and they...” He trailed off, obviously trying to find the right words. “God, I hate this because now you’ve said yes, and you’ll feel you’re obligated to go, even if you don’t want to.” Reaching up, Tommy cupped Evan’s stubbly cheek, and to his surprise, the man didn’t pull away.
“Evan, please, tell me what’s wrong.” Tommy could hear himself pleading softly, the thought of losing this man who he’d only known for a few weeks, but was completely infatuated with, almost too much to bear.
“They...shit...” He half-yelled, and Tommy led him to a nearby bench and sat him down, gingerly perching on the other side, giving Evan enough room to himself. “Tommy, you’re a great guy, and a good kisser, but I understand if you don’t want to date me. I’ve had enough people run after I tell them this.” Evan sighed. “This wedding, Maddie has invited my birth parents, and I really don’t want to see them, not after they abandoned me, but I need to be there for her, and Chim. I’ve seen them once since I moved here, and they insisted on calling me by my birth name. Hannah.” The last word was so quiet that it took Tommy a moment for it to register, and then all the pieces fell into place. His mouth started to shape the word, but he stopped before he could even make the “ha”.
“You’re...trans?” He whispered, and Evan nodded slowly.
“Most people leave when I tell them. And I get it, not everyone wants to date a trans man. You wouldn’t be the first, and you won’t be the last, believe me.” He laughed bitterly, his eyes closed, like he didn’t want to see Tommy walking away, only opening them again when Tommy shuffled over and placed his hand over Evan’s.
“Can I be one of the people who stays?” He asked quietly, his eyes meeting watery blues, and it was then he allowed himself to wipe the tears from Evan’s cheek. “Because I want to be.”
“Y-you do?” Evan stammered. Tommy nodded.
“I do.”
---
“I do.”
“And do you, Evan Buckley, take this man, Thomas Kinard to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?” The officiant asked, and Evan nodded, his smile beaming like the sun above them.
“I do.” He whispered.
And for some reason, Tommy thought of all the words that he could use to describe his new husband. Impulsive? Yes. Idiotic? Sometimes. But there was also beautiful, sweet, caring, kind, fiercely protective and extremely loving. There were so many words he wanted to say about him. He loved waking up beside him each morning, seeing his eyes flutter open as he woke. He loved the look in his eyes as they made love. He loved the face he made when he was on a Google deep-dive. And most of all, he loved the version of him that he’d gotten to know and love, not the second-hand one that others seemed to see. And the words that he would write down later were the most important ones.