Work Text:
April 4th, 2025
Evan drops the last box onto the stack and immediately sinks into Tommy’s obnoxiously sized couch next to him.
“That’s the final box,” he states, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder and closing his eyes briefly.
“I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into this,” Tommy says with a huff of a laugh. Evan’s head pops back up quickly, looking over at him, but there’s a smile on Tommy’s face as the other man looks back at him.
“You’re so not funny right now,” Evan admonishes him lightly. He drops his sweaty forehead back onto his boyfriend’s bare shoulder, exhaling wearily. Although they’d had some help here and there throughout the day, they’d done most of the moving themselves, given that Hen and Chimney both had their families to attend to, and Eddie and Chris were in the process of moving their own things. He also didn’t want to ask too much of Bobby after everything he’d just gone through with the cartel.
“I mean, but it feels right,” Evan comments, shifting more to fully rest his head against Tommy’s shoulder. The pilot shifts as well, resting against Evan as well.
“Yeah,” he answers. “It does.” He’s quiet for a moment, and the room becomes quieter until Evan starts to teeter on the edge of consciousness. “And I can’t believe you’re going to make me tear out that kitchen when I just finished it.”
The younger man pops back up and opens his eyes, his brow knit together.
“What are you talking about,” Evan questions. “The kitchen is fine?”
Tommy snorts in a tone that Evan is all too familiar with, in a way that suggests he doesn’t believe even a modicum of what the younger man is suggesting.
“Hey, seriously, the kitchen is fine,” Evan tells him. “Maybe it’s a little small, but-..”
Tommy chuckles again, resting his palm over Evan’s hand.
“It’s ridiculously small, Evan,” Tommy tells him. “And that stove is probably as old as I am.”
The younger man opens his mouth as though he’s got an answer prepared, but all that emerges from his mouth are half-squeaked attempts at justification, like he doesn’t expect Tommy to actually dismantle pieces of this home that he’s built for himself over the years just because Evan lives there now too.
“The thing is though, it’s not just mine anymore,” the pilot states, his tone more serious. He takes a deep breath as Evan grants a small smile at the statement, his cheeks dusting with pink. “And I know that the kitchen is where you store a lot of your love.”
The heartened smile on Evan’s face grows, and he nods after a moment. Too often in the past, they’ve spent many a night fussing over the stove in the loft—or more recently, Eddie’s house—working on meals together. It’s a place of give and take for both of them, a space to lay all of their love languages bare; from the acts of service they both feel the urge to give to the physical touch that never really stops when they’re in the same space, not to mention the quality time.
“S-so- I mean, do- do you have…ideas?” Evan stammers.
Tommy grins at him before resting his head back against the couch. “I’ve got some very rudimentary concepts, and I might’ve priced a few appliances.”
Evan raises his eyebrows curiously. “Priced appliances? I thought I was the one who moved too fast in this relationship.”
Tommy snorts at him, wrapping a hand around the back of Evan’s head and pulling him in, kissing his forehead.
“Well, this is now a two-income household,” the pilot states. “And I already do okay with the money I make at work and then giving flying lessons.”
Evan loops an arm over Tommy’s waist and curls one of his legs between the pilot’s, half on top of him.
“Are you suggesting buying my love,” he teases.
“No,” Tommy answers, shaking his head. “What I’m suggesting is that, bills aside, financially this changes things. It’s not a rental or a bachelor pad, but neither of us is footing the entire bill, either.”
Evan nods, understanding Tommy’s point.
“I-I just, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do things because I’m here now,” he states nervously.
Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “And I would hope that you might actually expect that I would. I didn’t ask you to move in to rent a room while having carnal benefits. I asked you knowing that this is equally your space as much as it is mine.”
“B-but its your house,” Evan replies. “A-and I don’t mean that to say that I’m not happy to be here. I just mean…your name is on the deed.”
Tommy is quiet for a few moments, weighing Evan’s point. Eventually, he shifts slightly and it causes Evan to lean back, both of them looking at each other clearly.
“Well, there’s a few options there,” Tommy comments. “I put this place on the market and we attempt to find something else in the insanity that is the buyer’s market right now-..”
“That sounds like a nightmare,” Evan replies. Tommy nods with a small laugh.
“It would be. Then there’s the option of doing a transfer of equity or refinancing, but that’s going to be a hard look at your finances as well,” the pilot explains. Evan cringes at that suggestion and shakes his head. “Or, we can stay here with the understanding that yes, I own the house, but it’s still your home, and as well, when we’re ready, we can return to this discussion and make either one of those moves. But I’m not actively seeking to keep you out of involvement in household choices, Evan. Right now, as cliché as it sounds, ownership is a piece of paper.”
Evan listens to Tommy, and although he doesn’t love any of the options—mostly due to the basis that it puts him in a position where he might end up without a place to live—he also has an appreciation for the fact that Tommy has been in that situation before and wouldn’t ever just push him out. He also understands the gravity of the fact that his boyfriend hasn’t just opened up a space he’s had only to himself for over a decade, but that he’s offering Evan equal footing in any and all household choices.
“Alright,” Evan answers. “I guess I can live with that. But I still don’t expect that we have to do a major renovation on the kitchen.”
Tommy snorts again, leaning forward and nuzzling up against Evan before pecking him softly. “Okay.”
. . .
A number of hours and about twenty-five boxes later, they both fall into bed, having just come out of a hot and steamy joint shower—in more ways than one. Evan wastes no time snuggling down against the gel foam mattress topper, wrapping up in the duvet they picked out together last week.
Tommy shifts behind him, and Evan leans up on an elbow until the pilot is settled behind him, lowering down onto the older man’s bicep just beneath his pillow as Tommy’s other arm wraps around him, one hand resting on Evan’s opposite hip while the other is wrapped around his arm.
“How many baking sheets do we actually need,” Tommy teases as he nuzzles against Evan’s temple.
“Stop teasing me,” the younger man whines. “Or I won’t make you spumoni from scratch.”
“Ohh, that’s a deep threat,” Tommy replies sarcastically. Evan swings a heel back and kicks him in the shin, but Tommy only continues to chuckle at him, leaving light kisses on the side of Evan’s head.
“You’re making this a terrible anniversary,” Evan retorts, his eyes already closed.
Tommy pops back, confused, and it forces Evan to open his eyes from the way that Tommy shifts around him.
“Does it still count as an anniversary?” He asks. “There were months in between the breakup and reconciliation.”
Evan turns his head, glancing over at Tommy. “Was it a breakup, though? Or just the world’s longest stalemate? I mean there was definitely some hot sex in between. And a lot of refusal to own fault. On both sides.”
Tommy chuckles at his response, considering it as he lays back down. Evan snuggles back against him and a smile pulls across Tommy’s lips as he kisses the shoulder of the other man.
“I guess you’re right,” he states after a few moments. “Happy anniversary, Evan. It’s been quite the year.”
“Mmhm,” Evan hums in response. He’s clearly on his way to falling asleep, but after about a minute, a sudden twitch from him has Tommy perking up.
“Hmm?”
“You’re not hoarding any more secret fiancée's right?” Evan asks.
“Not any that you’ve also slept with,” Tommy retorts. It earns him another kick in the shin and he grunts, but the grin on his face is still present. “Go to sleep.”
“Seriously,” Evan states, turning his head as far as he can to see Tommy behind him. “Is there anything else?”
Tommy leans up and opens his eyes, mildly frustrated. “I mean I’m sure there’s plenty we still don’t know about each other. But so we’re clear, no. I’ve only been engaged the one time. Now if you could stop kicking me, I’m gonna have bruises I can’t explain to my coworkers.”
“Kinky sex,” Evan responds, half-asleep again. “Just tell them it’s kinky sex. Always keeps them from asking more.”
Tommy’s eyes grow wide, half wondering if he should ask more about what that means, but he quickly decides he’s probably happier not knowing. Either way, Evan is snoring softly in front of him a matter of seconds later, and he lays his head back down against the younger man’s back, letting the rise and fall of his breaths and the beating of Evan’s heart lull him down.
. . . .
April 4, 2026
Tommy is excited when he leaves work. He’d managed to finagle his way into getting Simmons to come in early so he could bow out a few hours early. He’s had plans for weeks for the night, and Evan will be coming off shift in a few hours, so he only has a little bit of time to get home and make sure everything is prepared.
When he makes it home thirty minutes later, his heart sinks at the sight of Evan’s truck in the driveway. Granted, it doesn’t mean that their plans for the night are necessarily sunk, but it does require him to think on the fly about how he’s going to shift.
He exits his own truck and walks up to the house, already trying to decide how he’ll convince Evan to go to Micelli’s with him instead. It’s a risky enough ask as it is, because Evan views the restaurant as cursed when it comes to their relationship, and while Tommy doesn’t blame him, he also has a specific reason for wanting them to go there.
However, when he enters the house, he isn’t hit with the smell of Evan’s cooking. He’s slightly surprised, given that Evan is almost always in the kitchen doing something if Tommy gets off shift in the evening. Whether its making dinner, working on a new recipe he’s trying to perfect, or making something for the Han household, it’s rare that Tommy doesn’t find him with at least half a dozen ingredients on the counter and donning his ‘I like my butt rubbed and pork pulled’ apron that Tommy got him as a joke for Christmas.
Except, that’s not where he finds Evan. He’s no more than three steps inside the house, having settled his bag by the door with his mouth open, ready to call out for the younger man when his eyes fall on the lump on the couch. Evan is curled up on it with a blanket covering him, one of the throw pillows tucked under his head, and a tissue clutched in his hand. He’s visibly flushed, and even from several feet away, Tommy can see the way his forehead shines.
“Fuck.” His shoulders sink as he mutters softly, shaking his head. He walks over to the couch and perches down, resting his hand against Evan’s forehead. He’s considerably warm, and this close together, he can hear the wheezing in the younger man’s breathing.
Tommy looks around them, checking the coffee table and the side table for evidence that Evan set himself up with supplies, but doesn’t find any. It’s not entirely surprising—the few times they’ve been sick around one another in the last two years, Evan usually crawls onto the most comfortable surface and falls asleep.
After another glance around the room, Tommy stands and heads for the kitchen. He grabs Evan’s go-to water bottle and fills it with fresh water before stepping into the bathroom and gathering supplies and then setting them in the bedroom before returning to the couch. Rather than waking him, he curls his arms underneath the younger man and lifts him, gaining little more than a snuffle as Evan rubs his cheek against Tommy’s shirt. He carries the younger man into their room and settles him on the bed, having already pulled the blankets back. When he pulls the throw blanket from the couch away, he finds that Evan had at least already changed into sweats—or possibly had worn them to work—and tucks the comforter around him.
Tommy ducks out of the room briefly—long enough to call and cancel their reservations—before heading back into the bedroom. Evan has rolled over and tugged the blankets up—the same way he had on the couch—which concerns him. If he’s feverish and having chills, that could be a bad sign, even though his fever doesn’t seem to be too high at the moment.
He lets Evan rest for awhile, settling for ordering in soup for dinner instead of their original plans, and by the time it arrives, so have the various arrangements that Tommy had ordered from the florist.
He leaves them in the living room, unsure of what to do with them then. He’d had a plan with a certain setup—Maddie was supposed to come over and make sure it was done while they were gone to dinner—but he’d cancelled on her after putting Evan into bed, and now the flowers feel a little overdone.
He returns to the bedroom once he has Evan’s soup on a tray for him along with some crackers and juice, settling it on the nightstand next to his side of the bed before sliding in beside him.
Evan whines softly as he wakes up, coughing roughly and attempting to clear his throat. Tommy turns toward him as Evan curls toward his legs, rests against his lap.
“Hi baby,” he says softly. “I got you some soup.”
Evan hums something like a groan as he lays against Tommy, his eyes still closed.
“‘m hot. And cold,” he mutters.
“I bet,” the pilot answers, running his fingers through the younger man’s curls. They sit quietly for a time as Evan slowly wakes up, pushing the blankets around in an attempt to both get warmer and cool off. It takes a while, but eventually he musters up enough energy to at least lean against his pillows, and Tommy grabs the tray.
“Think you can manage a few bites,” he asks.
Evan shrugs wearily, but he doesn’t complain when Tommy uncaps the soup and spoons broth into his mouth. If anything, he seems to relish in the warmth in his throat.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice raw and cracking after a few sips of the broth. “I know this wasn’t what you had planned tonight.”
Tommy shrugs. “Maybe not, but I can’t expect every year to be perfect.”
Evan manages a weak smile at him. Tommy spoons another bite of soup into his mouth. He can see Evan’s eyes already getting heavy again and the way the younger man is fighting it.
“Want to be done,” he asks. Evan nods, blinking slowly. His eyes drift shut for a few minutes as Tommy cleans up and gets rid of the tray. When he returns to the bedroom, Evan wakes up again. He rolls toward the older man, and Tommy opens his arms to let Evan snuggle in.
“T’mmy,” he mutters against the pilot’s chest.
The older man tilts his head down, glancing at Evan. “Yeah, baby?”
“You gotta ring.”
Tommy lets out a silent laugh, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head in amusement. Of course Evan had it figured out.
“Yeah,” he answers quietly.
“Were gonna per-…pro-…y’know.”
This time, he smiles adoringly, nodding even though Evan isn’t looking at him.
“That was the plan. There was an entire event planned around it,” he states honestly. “But this is fine. We’ll do something another night.”
“No.”
It takes Evan a long minute to lift his head, during which Tommy is very confused. And then Evan plants his chin against Tommy’s pectorals and fights to get his eyes open.
“Don’t wanna wait to do something else on a different day,” he murmurs. “This day. Now.”
Tommy chuckles at him, amused at Evan’s insistence.
“You want me to propose to you in our bed when you have a 102 degree fever?”
“Why not,” Evan answers weakly. “Still cute?”
It takes everything inside Tommy not to snort at Evan. “Yes, baby, you are still cute. But-..”
“No buts,” Evan tells him. “Ring.”
Tommy widens his eyes at the younger man, utterly baffled at him. He shakes his head, but the insistence in Evan’s exhausted expression isn’t wavering, and something about it has him knowing he’s not going to tell Evan no right now.
“Alright,” he acquiesces. “Hang on.”
He turns over on the bed and opens the drawer to the nightstand, digging underneath it until he finds where he taped it. How Evan found out about it is an issue for a different day. He pulls the tape away and tosses it aside before taking it between his thumb and index finger and turning over.
“Evan Matthew-..”
“Yes.”
Tommy deadpans at him. “Can I at least get the question out?”
“No.”
He caves then, snorting at Evan as the younger man lifts his hand from where it’s fisted around the top of the comforter.
“Ring.”
Tommy shakes his head again, still chuckling as it slides perfectly down the younger man’s finger. When it’s settled into place, Evan stares at it for several seconds before closing his eyes and burying his face in Tommy’s chest again. He wraps the same fist around a handful of the t-shirt Tommy has on as the pilot loops his arm around his back, keeping him close.
“Mine,” Evan murmurs into his chest. It floods Tommy’s chest with warmth, and he places a light kiss on Evan’s hairline.
“Yep. Yours. And now you’re really stuck with me.”
“It’s about time.”
. . .
April 4th, 2027
Evan stares forlornly at the crib for far too long. He knows he does, because when Tommy comes around the corner from the frozen food section into the baby section, the older man’s hand wraps around his bicep, the iciness of his wedding ring feeling cold against his unclothed arm.
“I know,” he murmurs into Evan’s ear. The younger man leans into him slightly, a frustrated expression on his face.
“I just…I thought we’d be further along right now,” Evan comments back.
Tommy’s gaze falls to the gray 5-in-1 crib that they’d started eyeing up before the wedding months ago. They weren’t even down the aisle before talk about when they wanted to start really getting serious about kids had started. They’d both come to the resounding conclusion that they weren’t that far off from that time, and they’d only been back from their honeymoon for a week when Tommy had come home with brochures for a few adoption agencies.They’d also discussed signing up as foster parents, as well as whether surrogacy was an option they wanted to pursue.
Filing to become foster parents had been fairly easy, given that they had loved ones who already were and knew the process. Plus, half the paperwork required was stuff they both already had to do for their jobs anyway, so they were well on their way.
But in recent months, they’d also seen others bring kids home, and even though he wasn’t saying it out loud, Tommy knew it was eating away at Evan.
One of Tommy’s army buddies who lived nearby had welcomed an infant a few months back. Then someone Eddie had had a short relationship with had given birth. Then Hen and Karen had started talking about the possibility of bringing home another child, and even though Evan and Tommy hadn’t even had their foster license approved yet, the younger man took it as the possibility that a child might come along perfect for them that would end up with someone else.
“Everything will happen when it’s supposed to,” Tommy tells him softly. He gives a light tug on Evan’s arm, and the younger man finally turns and starts walking with him again. “Besides, we just closed on that new house. You really want to cart an infant around while we’re schlepping boxes from one house to another?”
Evan looks over at Tommy with what’s possibly the saddest eyes the older man has ever seen from him, and the pilot sighs softly.
“We’d be moving into our new house as a family,” the younger man murmurs.
Tommy stops the cart in the middle of the aisle and turns towards Evan, grabbing both of his hands.
“Listen to me. We are still a family right now, babies or not,” he comments. “We will always be a family, even if it’s just you and me and three dozen dogs.”
The commentary on having that many animals forces at least a small smile on Evan's face. When Tommy leans in and hugs him, Evan takes it willingly. He tries desperately not to think about how sexy his husband would look with a baby in his arms, or how sweet it would be to see Tommy talking to a toddler of their own, and not just one of their nieces or nephews.
When they part again, he lets Tommy tug him through the store, and then they head back home to unload their stock. Once they’re finished, Evan is ready to settle in for the night, but Tommy tugs him back out of the house and into the truck without bothering to explain where they’re going or what they’re doing.
They drive through the city and then up onto the PCH, and after a while, Evan starts to wonder if Tommy actually has a plan or if they’re just driving to drive. It’s mostly quiet, and Evan doesn’t push to talk—still to caught up in his own feelings about things.
Eventually they pull off, and Tommy pulls them to a cliff before turning the car off and pulling Evan from the truck.
“Stay here for a minute,” the older man says before turning back to the truck. He opens the passenger door behind Evan, and the younger man sees him start pulling supplies from the back of the car.
Ten minutes later, they’re seated on the bed of the truck with blankets around them and a small picnic Tommy packed for them while the sun sets.
“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight,” the pilot explains as he wipes dripping tomato juice from his hand.
Over their meal, they talk about the upcoming events for work taking place. Evan has some recertifications taking place in the next few weeks, and Tommy has a private client he took on for flying lessons that will cut into their personal time, but ultimately pad their bank account with very little work.
Once it’s gone, Tommy shifts things around in the truck bed, and then they settle back in it, curled up at each other’s sides. The sun set fades off the horizon, and as the sky goes from light blue, to shades of pink and purple, to midnight blue, they get sucked more into each other than they do to their surroundings.
Evan is midway through sucking a generous bruise into the arch of Tommy’s neck when the pilot finally looks up and sees streaks shooting across the sky. He nudges the younger man, and although Evan is mildly peeved to be interrupted, when he glances up, he watches where Tommy is pointing. Sure enough, stars are streaking across the sky above them.
“Is it dumb to wish on a meteor for a baby,” he mutters softly, almost under his breath.
“Not at all,” Tommy answers back. Evan inhales a deep breath and holds it briefly, watching as more stars shoot across the sky. When he finally breathes out, he glances back up at Tommy. The pilot is staring down at him adoringly with a look that Evan can only quantify as his. It’s the way Tommy always looks at him when he’s unabashedly in love.
“What?”
Tommy brushes his thumb over Evan’s bottom lip and shakes his head, smiling. “Happy anniversary.”
Evan grins back at him, pushing up on an elbow before leaning down and kissing the other man.
“Happy anniversary.”
. . . .
April 4th, 2028
Evan stares across the bed at Tommy, yawning as he fights to keep his eyes open. They’ve barely slept in the past week, but for the first time in a long time, he really has no complaints about that fact. Because curled up on top of his sleeping husband’s chest is their newborn son.
Harvey Robert Kinard had been born nine days before in the middle of a washout rainstorm. Their surrogate had labored for most of the night at home, and had every plan of transferring to the hospital when her contractions got closer. However, as their son got closer to making his entrance into the world, the storm got worse. So instead of a medicated birth in labor and delivery, Kameron had given birth instead at home, unmedicated, and on another couch. To Evan’s delight at least, it wasn’t his couch trashed this time.
In the days since then, they had attended Harvey’s first well-baby visit, gotten him though all of his newborn testing, and he’d met some of his immediate family.
Bobby had been emotional to find out that their son’s middle name was in honor of him, while Chimney had told both of them months ago, “you’re not naming that child Howard. Pick something else.’. As it were, Evan and Tommy spent months pouring over various baby name books and websites, bickering of what felt right. They decided to stick with the letter H, so they could still honor the connection to Chimney, but at the same time many names had tripped them up.
Hudson didn't work, given that Jeffery Hudson was the man that nearly killed Athena. Tommy had vetoed Holden due to Holden Caulfield. Hayes felt too formal while Hendrix was too informal. Evan said no to Henry and Tommy absolutely hated Hunter. Harbor and Henley had both been floated as possible contenders, but the two ultimately came to the conclusion that Harvey felt good, right. The meaning behind his name was ‘battle-worthy, reflecting strength, valor, and resilience’. It was something both of his fathers could relate to heavily and although they hoped that their son would not face the same struggles they had, hopefully his name would bring him a little boost if he did.
Harvey shifts on Tommy’s chest slightly, his tiny lips forming into a little ‘o’ as he snuggles more against the pilot. He’s dressed in pajamas covered in helicopters and firetrucks—a gift from Maddie at their baby shower—and looking every bit like his father, if Evan has anything to say about it. Tommy consistently tries to argue that Harvey looks more like Evan, which is hilarious to the younger man given that he doesn’t have any of Evan’s DNA, but there is always something to be said for taking on the mannerisms of the people around you…even if Harvey is only nine days old.
He knows it’s going to be a long day. They likely won’t get any rest, and even though there’s only one baby and two of them, Harvey will keep them on their toes every second of the day, even if he does sleep for two-thirds of it. Tommy will worry whether they’re feeding him enough—and then he’ll worry that they’re feeding him too much. Evan will be concerned that they're already spoiling him too much, only to be the one who consistently jumps at every little thing that their baby needs. They’ll bicker over who gets to do story time at the end of the night, and who gets to wake up at 3 AM to feed him, even though they’ll both ultimately wake up just so they can watch him sleep. In the end, they won’t complain about any of it.
Tommy shifts slightly, his hand stroking up the baby’s back as Evan scoots closer to them, careful not to wake either of them up. Part of him wishes he could go back and tell younger versions of himself that things don’t just get better, but that ultimately does get everything he wants. He wishes he could tell the version of himself that spent months pining for Tommy during their break up, that they would figure things out. That he could tell the version of himself from a year earlier that their son would come at exactly the right time. That he could tell the version of himself just ten days ago that everything he’s worried about and fears won’t matter in a few short hours.
It has been both the longest and shortest road, from that first kiss to where he finds himself now. The time it took for him to fully understand himself and embrace who he knows himself to be today had been a process. It was a road that required time both with and without Tommy, and as much as he doesn’t care to look back on their time apart, there are things he was forced to gain in that separation. At the same time though, it feels like just yesterday that he was living in the loft, getting jealous about the guy who had flown him and his friends into a hurricane on a hunch. In the most colloquial meaning, the days have been long for them, but the years have been short.
But if there’s anything Evan has been sure of, since that night in his loft, six months into their relationship, it’s that there has never been anyone other than Tommy that he could see this life with. Having their son now is an added bonus. Maybe one day more kids will join them. Maybe they’ll take on different career tracks to better suit their family life. Or maybe everything will stay the same. Evan doesn’t care, as long as they have each other. Because four years ago, Tommy dared to take a chance and kiss him, and Evan has never stopped being grateful he did.