Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a crowded night at the bar, and Buck, Tommy and Ravi were lucky to secure a small booth in the back, just under a TV which is playing the latest basketball game. Although granted, only Tommy is paying attention to it, and only half-heartedly. 

“Why do people hate sluts?” An annoyingly familiar voice comes. 

Tommy paused mid-sip, his beer hovering just below his mouth. He slowly set it down, sighed, and gave an exhausted side-eye at Zach, crashing the after work quiet drinks with Buck and Ravi. “Hi, Zach. Great to see you too.  Hey, say why don’t you sit down and immediately start being weird, huh?”

“Sweet, my main man T-Bone!” Zach grinned, sliding onto the bench beside Tommy like he owned the place. He leaned forward to glance past him. “What’s happenin’, boys?”

Buck gave a tiny wave, already bracing himself, while Ravi just stared at the two other men, amused, clearly trying to work out whether this was a prank set up by Buck or if this was just Zach’s natural setting. Given Buck and Tommy’s reactions, Ravi defaulted to ‘natural setting’. 

Before Ravi got a chance to introduce himself, Zach leaned over the table, hand stretched. “Yo, dude, I’m Zach but you can call me Zach Attack . And you are?”

“He also answers to annoying, dickhead and idiot.” Tommy supplied helpfully, as Zach grinned at him.

Realising that the quiet drinks had taken a turn towards crazy town, Ravi shook Zach’s hand “Uhh… Ravi. I work with Buck. At the 118,” he said, glancing toward Buck like he was looking for backup.

“Hell yeah, king. Nice to meet ya, Rave Dawg. So anyway,” Zach turned back to Tommy like they’d never paused, “what’s up with the slut hate?”

Rave dawg? Ravi shot Tommy a confused glance, and Tommy just dismissed it with a casual bit of advice, “Mmm, either accept it or sit through a half an hour workshop, because this one’s ability to focus is slightly concerning.”

Zach huffed at the comment, “Excusez moi, right now I’m trying to have a serious discussion about the right of women to fuck themselves with dildos on my timeline without being torn apart by sad old dudes who are legit attempting to drain the world of all its joy and beauty, bro.” 

Which happened to coincide precisely with when Buck opted to take a swipe of his beer, causing him to cough on his drink.

“Mmm, so that’s the line you opened with Zach?” Tommy said flatly. “No ‘hello,’ no easing us in gently? Just straight up raw doggin’ the conversation with slut politics?”

Zach’s face lit up, “YES! Dude, that’s what I’m talking about dawg, anyway, like I was watching this podcast…”

“Oh no,” Buck muttered. “Please, just… no.”

“Well, this is more interesting than the maggots we were discussing before.” Ravi mused, watching as Zach leaned forward.

“No, no, hear me out. These dudes were legit just ripping into OnlyFans girls, calling them all kinds of names, and I’m just like… why? Why the hate?”

Tommy tilted his head like a dog hearing a high-pitched whistle. “So let me get this straight…”

Oh, fuck, Tommy forgot that Zach was a child. 

Ravi watched as Tommy put up a hand to Zach’s face with a very pointed “No, I know where you were going with that… anyway, you came over here, interrupted our very peaceful beer, to campaign on behalf of slut rights?”

“Exactly!” Zach pointed like he’d just won a courtroom case. “Like, come on, shouldn’t we prefer sluts? They’re fun. Who wants to date a boring ass basic bitch that doesn’t even do oral and has a bedtime alarm set for 9:30?”

“He has my vote,” Ravi added, gleefully pouring gasoline over the fire with a smirk as Buck cringed, “Who’s worried about taxes, cost of living, things like that when we could be here, having real discussions about real matters.”

Swinging around before Tommy could stop him, Zach announced to a bar that was luckily too engrossed in their own things to notice, “Yo ladies, I’m a progressive king, I don’t care how many dicks you’ve had… like, legit in any hol-”

Right, Tommy grabbed Zach’s shoulder and swung him back to the table. “I need a leash for you.”

As Zach light-heartedly glared at Tommy, Buck got his attention with a teasing question, “Uh, come on Zach, tell us, who broke your heart?”

“Okay wow, no one!” Zach said defensively. “I just think we, as a society, are like waaaaay too hard on people who like to get freaky. Like, some chick’s out there twerking on a yacht and suddenly Chad-from-accounting wants to call her ‘a disgrace to womanhood’? And ya just know that meanwhile he’s watching stepmom porn in incognito mode at 2 a.m. It’s like…. hypocritical. It’s sexist. It’s giving repression. And me?” He thumped his chest. “I support a woman’s God-given right to show her titties.”

Ravi, trying very hard not to laugh, glanced at Buck. “Is this… normal?”

“This is Zach,” Buck replied dryly. “There’s no normal. There is only volume, so much volume… like too much volume,” and with that comment, Buck levelled a look straight at a non repentant Zach. 

“You love it.” Zach shot back with a grin.

“Uh, well, I think love is a strong word to use in this situation, uh, maybe even the wrong word, if we’re honest.”

“Okay, rude, first of all,” Zach said, placing a hand over his heart like he’d been personally betrayed. Then he turned to Ravi. “Anyway, Rave Dawg, your thoughts? Free the nip, yay or nay?”

Ravi smirked, “Well, perhaps you should lead by example?” he suggested as both Buck and Tommy shut it down quickly, because Zach would take his shirt off in the bar, and get them all kicked out. 

“Look, I’m just saying, like someone is buying the content, and then those people who buy it complain about the people making it, but if they didn’t buy it there would be no market, right bro? It’s giving classism, it’s giving sexism to be honest with you… and I support a woman's right to show her titties.” 

Zach sat back in the booth and stretched, putting his hands behind his head, “I respect ladies' rights and ladies' wrongs.”

It took a moment for the table to know how to react, and Tommy opted to be the first one to.

“Mhmm, so there’s a lot to unpack, and counter there. To be fair, you’re not exactly wrong about the hypocrisy, but just for clarification, by any chance are you one of the ones buying their content?” Tommy questioned.

“Nah, bro, I don’t sign up to any OnlyFans…” Zach started, and for a moment Tommy felt surprisingly proud, “Nah dude, I go on Twitter where you get it for free, like straight to the ol’ camera roll for later if ya know what I mean, dude.”

“Christ.” Tommy dropped his head onto the table. “Zach, four beers. Now.”

“Why is it always my shout?” Zach complained. 

“Why do you always drag the conversation into the gutter?” Tommy answered with a pointed look before looking at his watch, “In less than thirty seconds?”

Zach turned to Buck for moral support, “Your boyfriend is being mean to me.” he complained.

With a chuckle, Buck shook his head, “Uh, um, actually I think he’s very patient with you, to be honest.” as Ravi nodded quietly. 

Unimpressed with the lack of moral support, Zach leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, “So you guys hate sluts?”

“No,” Tommy replied quickly, “Not at all, after all we accept you don’t we?” 

Zach bit his top lip, as he thought over the comment, “Wait…”

“Zach, beers, now.” Tommy reminded politely with a smirk, patting the younger man on the shoulders. 

**

After Tommy had taken Buck and Ravi home, Zach found himself at a club downtown, attempting to hit on a hot, tall blonde chick in a dangerously short black dress. Thank god for plunging cleavage, those puppies looked ripe and ready for motorboating.

“Yo, girl, are you a parking ticket because baby, you’ve got fine written all over you.”

“Boy,” she said, voice smooth,  “does that work on anyone?”

“Baby baby baby, I don’t care about the other chicks in this place. You’re the main event. I’m just tryna find out if this,” he gestured to himself, “works on you, sweetie.”

She smirked as she tilted her head, and took a sip of her drink, eyeing him over the rim. “You’re cute, but I’m here on a girls' night, and you aren’t interesting enough to ditch my friends for.” 

“Yeah well, like, I’m a firefighter,” he added quickly, with a wink and a tilt of his head like that was his trump card, which normally it was. Ladies love a man in uniform. “Have you ever thought about sliding down a fireman’s pole before...” and he capped it off with a charming wink. 

That got a full, delighted giggle. “Huh, that almost worked,” she said, grabbing her drink. “But I’m not quite drunk enough to fall for it. Good luck, Parking Ticket.”

“Wait…what? But I am… hey!” Zach began, stammering as she turned and vanished into the crowd. “Okay, well… that was rude.”

Maybe Zach should borrow a tip out of Buck’s book and steal an actual firetruck for a hook-up… although, Tommy would probably disapprove. 

Then again, Tommy legit stole a helicopter, not once, but twice because he wanted a piece of Buck’s cake, so he can’t judge. 

How do you get the smell of sex out of a fire truck or helicopter?

Spinning on his heel with the flair of a man trying to hide his wounded ego, he flagged down the bartender. “Yo bro, can I get a vodka soda, heavy on the vodka, please?”

“Rough night?” a voice said behind him, smooth and amused. It belonged to a guy who was leaning against the bar. Dark hair, great jawline, stunning eyes and a confidence that screamed dangerous. And hot, like unreasonably hot, not that Zach noticed, of course. 

“Who? Me? Nah man. It’s cool, cool, cool.” 

The guy smirked, “I can tell, well, let me grab your drink, and uh tell me stud, are you actually a firefighter or was that just your emergency pickup line when things go up in smoke?”

“Oh, wow, thanks a lot, and uh, yeah man, legit dude, with uh, the 217.”

“Okay, I dunno what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“Oh, of course, that wouldn’t mean anything since you're not LAFD, clearly, uh, but basically there are like a lot of firehouses around the LA area right? And uh, they all have, like, a house number, ya see and uh, wow, mmm this is kinda boring once I start hearing myself….” Zach went to explain before trailing off.

The guy’s grin widened. “Haha, no, it’s not the most exciting thing, but I mean, at least you're good looking.”  

“N’aww cheers dude, you’re not bad yourself, I bet the ladies are creaming their panties around you bro. Oh I’m, uh, Zach by the way.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ‘uh Zach ’”  the man said, offering his hand. “Christian’s the name, and I don’t get much attention from the ladies.”

“Rough crowd tonight, huh? I feel ya king,” Zach replied, nodding to the bartender as the drink appeared. “Cheers for the drink, by the way, legend.”

“You're welcome, stud.”

“Us bros gotta stick together, those chicks can knock back the ol’ self-esteem.” Zach mused into his glass. 

Christian chuckled and licked his lips, undeterred. “Sooo,” he said again, drawing the word out a little longer this time, “I couldn’t help but notice those absolute weapons of yours, those arms are big…. I mean, your biceps are kind of insane. I bet you could lift me easily.”

Zach perked up immediately, beaming like he’d just been complimented by a gym bro. “Yo, man, I totz could for real.” He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever showing off a new toy.

Christian raised an eyebrow, amused as he leaned forward. “Can I?” he asked.

“Huh?”

Christian reached further forward, so his hand hovering just shy of Zach’s arm. “Your bicep. Can I…?” He asked again.

Now, this is the sort of request Zach expected from the ladies when he took his shirt off, or wore shirtless tees. 

“Oh…, oh hell yeah, bro. Go for gold, King, I don’t mind.” Zach held his arm out like he was being knighted, proudly flexing harder. 

A few drinks later, the two of them were cosied up at the corner of the bar, Zach with an arm slung around Christian’s shoulders like they’d been frat brothers in a past life. Not that Christian seemed to mind in the least, in fact his hand kept sliding high up Zach’s thigh. 

Plus, Christian smelt pretty damn good, Zach was going to have to ask where he got that aftershave from. 

That was when Zach saw her, long legs, short, stunning red dress. His opportunity to repay Christian for the drinks, and the fries. 

He may have eaten too many of Christians fries, to be entirely honest. 

“Dude, dude,” Zach slurred slightly, pointing across the room with his drink, spilling most of it. “That chick over there in the red? I bet I can get her to come home with you, no joke. You’re, like, objectively good-looking. She’d be lucky, man.”

However, Christian simply smiled patiently, as he sipped his whiskey. “That’s a generous offer, stud.”

“I’m a wingman by nature,” Zach declared proudly, slapping his chest in a grandiose manner, earning an amused grin from Christian. “It’s just in my blood.”

“There’s just one slight problem, stud.” Christian admitted slowly, hand squeezing Zach’s thigh slightly.

“What?” Because honestly, Zach could get Christian over the line with that chick. Probably, it was fifty-fifty.  

Christian tilted his head slightly, his tone almost pitying. “She’s not really my type, though.”

Zach squinted as if Christian had lost his mind as he glanced over at the stunner in red. “Bro, broooooooooooooooooooo but she’s hot. Like, ten-outta-ten hot.”

She was, legs for days, plunging cleavage. If Zach didn’t owe Christian one, he’d be over that like a nun in a cucumber field. 

“So are you.”

“N’aww, cheers dude,” Zach said with a goofy grin, clearly pleased and entirely missing the point.

Christian sighed, finally deciding to spell it out. “No, Zach. You are hot. As in; you’re my type. As in; I’ve been flirting with you for the past hour in the hopes of getting into your pants and bouncing on your firefighter cock… fuck, to be honest, I don’t even care if you are a firefighter at this point.”

Zach seized on the opportunity to deflect. 

“Uh, but I am a firefighter,” Zach said quickly, as his voice hitched slightly as he scratched the back of his neck. His eyes darted like he was looking for a fire exit that didn’t exist. “Like, with helicopters and everything. Real legit stuff bro, like yeah….”

Christian exhaled, slow and steady, then fixed Zach with a look that could slice through steel. “See, I wasn’t really sure if you were maybe bi, or gay, I mean, you’ve been pretty handsy the last hour or so I figured you must be at least curious….”

“Shiiitttt, … like, you’re hot and I’m super flattered, but I’m like, pretty much straight, ya know? Like…”

“What I know is it’s sort of cute how every second word of yours is ‘like.”  Christian teased, “And is there like a rule that you have to end every second with a ‘bro’?” 

“Uh.”

With a gentle scoff, but a scoff nonetheless, Christian smirked, “Does the LAFD have any requirements regarding the ability to communicate clearly? Feels like a pretty important thing in an emergency?” 

Huh, that felt uncalled. A fire was different than being hit on by a hot guy at a bar. Now, Zach had no issues with gay people, in fact most of them were pretty awesome. Take Tommy and Buck for example, some of the best people out there. 

But Zach had always been straight. For the most part, after all, it was normal to notice when a guy was hot right? And ‘bro jobs’ were normal between mates. 

Would being bi a big deal? No one Zach cared about would care, right? 

His family would be disappointed, but he was used to that by now. 

“Ah, yeah, of course, we’re super trained on dealing with high-pressure situations, bro, but just like, uh, shit, I do say like a lot, huh?”

Christian tilted his head, his voice softening now, far more gentle than Zach expected. “Are you not interested? The night is still young enough for me to cut my losses and for you to find a hot, gym bunny to worship those muscles like I would, all night….” 

There was a moment when Christian turned half-heartedly to stand up….

“No… just wait like a sec,” Zach said, voice cracking like a branch under pressure before he cleared his throat, very manly like as he sat up in his seat. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested…”

The question was what was he saying? 

“I mean…” Zach rubbed his temple. “I dunno, man. I don’t usually think this much about it. I just vibe, you know?”

“Sure,” Christian said, as he slowly dragged his gaze over Zach,  while he he took a long, deliberate sip of his drink. “So I guess your vibe right now is staring at my mouth like it’s a soft serve on a summer day, stud?”

Zach’s ears flushed pink on cue. “I wasn’t-” he started, voice cracking slightly before he caught himself. His eyes darted away, then right back again, the traitorous things that they were, landing squarely on Christian’s mouth. Which, to be fair, was annoyingly pink and annoyingly close.

Christian leaned in, closing the space between them until Zach could probably count his lashes if he weren’t trying so hard to act chill. “So,” Christian murmured, voice low and steady, “can I kiss you now?”

Zach’s mind drifted back to when he was sixteen, at the waterpark with his family, one of the last family events he had gone on.

Across from them was a guy, about his age, a lifeguard, in red shorts and a six pack.

“Uh, woah, he’s hot.” Zach had commented offhandedly before his father had whacked him across the face. It was the only time Zach’s dad had ever actually hit him, Mr Howard preferring just to ignore Zach and all his problems in general. 

“Howard men are real men.” His father had snapped, “Not fruity poofers, never catch me hearing you say such rubbish again.” 

Which was weird, because while Zach certainly knew ‘fruity’ people, there was nothing wrong with them… plus, look at Tommy, Buck and Lucy. You couldn’t accuse them of being soft.

Not that there was anything wrong with being soft.

“Are you okay there Stud?” Christian poked, “I didn’t mean to freak you out, I can go…”

“No, it’s all good, uh, sorry?” 

Zach swore under his breath; something between a surrender and a dare then leaned forward, closing the gap in one messy, uncertain motion as his lips captured Christian’s lips, and cupped the back of Christian neck to pull him closer, tongue exploring. 

Christian let out a quiet moan, and tilted slightly into him. But Zach pulled back suddenly, just enough to breathe, complete with that cocky, smug little smirk that made Christian want to slap him and drag him into a bathroom stall at the same time.

“Wow,” Christian said, catching his breath. “You were… surprisingly good at that.”

Zach pouted, mock-offended at the surprise, he wasn’t no blushing virgin. “I have kissed people before, you know.” Just because he had one, teeny tiny breakdown before didn’t mean he wasn’t well practiced. 

“Most guys find kissing a guy for the first time, well, a bit different.” Christian explained, sitting back in his seat and eyeing Zach. 

“Oh, nah, man, I’ve kissed a dude before,” Zach said, casually waving his hand like this was a totally normal bar conversation. Then he paused, biting his lip like he’d just realized what he said out loud. “Wellll…like… maybe five times. No homo tho, just guys being guys, ya know?”

Zach cringed at the foot in mouth ramblings.

Before Christian had a chance to rebut, or tease, or act shocked, Zach barrelled on “I mean, this is, like, the first time I’ve kissed a guy for… ulterior motives. Like, actual intent. Not just dare-night or drunk curiosity, or uh, helping out a mate, ya know?”

Christian stared at him for a long beat. And then said slow and low “ Zach .”

Zach straightened slightly, eyes wide. “Yeah, bro?” 

At this point Christian realised he going to get fucked by a guy who said ‘bro’ like it was acceptable as he leaned in, voice low and serious and burning hot. “I need you to shut up and fuck me.”

There was a half-second pause as Zach’s brain processed the statement, and then the dopey grin spread over his face as he leaned back in his chair, arms spread over the back of the booth. “Can do, bro.” and the asshole winked at Christian before he grabbed Zach by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the bathroom.

And yes, Zach could lift him easily. 

**

Afterwards, sweaty, sticky and breathless in the cramped bathroom stall, Zach bent over to grab his discarded underwear from the floor. Before his fingers touched them, Christian beat him to it. 

“Do you mind, stud?” Christian asked, puzzling Zach for a split second.

“Whaa.., like, you want those, for real? But like they’re, well, ya know, worn…”

“That’s kinda the point,” Christian smirked, folding them loosely in his hand before slipping them into his pocket like a trophy.

“Ohhh.” Zach’s eyebrows shot up as the penny dropped. “Like… women’s panties, dude are you…like, gonna sniff them later?”

Christian’s smile widened. “You really do have the most convincing dumb straight boy act I’ve seen in a long time. And that cock…” His gaze flicked down deliberately before meeting Zach’s eyes again. “…is almost a dangerous weapon.”

Zach grinned like he’d just been handed an award. “Cheers. It’s my PhD.” He leaned on the graffiti-scrawled wall, still catching his breath. “Pretty huge dick.”

Christian gave an amused snort. “I figured.”

Zach glanced around the stall, finally spotting his pants bunched up under the toilet roll dispenser. “So, uh… guess I’m going commando now, huh?”

“‘Commando’ is an appropriate term with that firearm in your pants,” Christian said smoothly, tugging his own shirt back into place. He paused, letting the silence stretch before flashing a wicked smile. “Well… cheers, stud. For the ride.”

Zach winked, hitching his jeans up without bothering to zip them right away. “Anytime, bro.”

**

So, Zach didn’t have post-nut regret.

No, what he had was something arguably worse: post-nut questions.

And no underwear, which was more awkward than he had expected when he had handed them over like some sort of trophy. 

If he blew another guy, and then fucked said guy so hard the man’s legs gave out in a bar bathroom stall… did that count as gay? Or just, like, extra enthusiastic bro-bonding?

Bros being bros, ya know? 

The blowjob, sure. That could be written off as a Bro job. Basic etiquette. Christian bought him a drink, Zach returned the favor, after all it was the polite thing to do, and Zach was the most polite person ever.

Tommy would be proud of how polite he was. 

Fucking Christian’s brains out however, was more difficult to ‘no homo’ away. 

He kicked a stone and huffed to himself, what would his father say? 

All his other sons were married to women (of course), continuing the ‘Howard’ brand… sorry …name and now;

Well, not only was Zach not married, did not own a single piece of property and opted to go by his mother's last name but now he was kissing guys on purpose. 

It wasn’t like the concept had been an accident before, but it had always been something he could pass off as “just messing around.” But tonight? Tonight had been a conscious choice. Not that he regretted it, it had been fun. For both parties. 

So now here he was: walking home through a quiet LA side street under flickering street lamps, his hoodie half-zipped, phone dead, and brain absolutely refusing to shut up. Also, did Zach mention that Christian had claimed his underwear as a souvenir, which had seemed hot in the moment but now was just awkward? 

His feet dragged a little as he crossed the cracked concrete of the sidewalk, trying to rehydrate with a warm Red Bull from his jacket pocket because water was for wimps and he didn’t have a shift tomorrow. 

In his distracted state he almost stepped on a little garden snail slowly making its way over the footpath. Hopping on one drunk foot, he almost tripped but saved himself, because he was that good. 

Or so he thought before he fell on the footpath with a thud, next to said snail. 

“Yo,” Zach slurred, peering at the small, glistening creature, which was now frozen mid-oogly-crawl. “Lil man. You can’t just be out here vibing in the open like this. Someone’s gonna obliterate you and I swear to God I don’t know if heaven has a guest list that includes snails.”

A moment as Zach pondered, before he frowned deeper, “Which is wild, if ya really think about lil man, like snails have literally caused less pain and destruction than man right? Like I bet ya never yeeted a missile at a small child right? If I get to heaven and there’s no snails, I’m legit gonna complain to the big man for ya bro.” 

Zach then bit his lip, “Woah, and dude, if you get to heaven and there’s no me, Imma need ya to pull some strings okay, I am not down with eternal torture.” 

The snail said nothing, obviously, but Zach took that as polite listening.

He rolled onto his back, arms spread out on the cracked sidewalk like he was about to make a dirt angel. “Do you ever, like… get gay thoughts?” he asked the snail. Then frowned and clarified, turning his gaze to the snail. “Or are you just all about the lady snails? Like… shell-covered booby action?”

A pause.

Zach pushed himself up on his elbows and studied the snail closely, or as closely as his drunk state would let him. “Sorry, I just assumed you’re a bro. That was on me.”

The snail continued its very slow, very nonjudgmental path toward absolutely nowhere.

“Do you think it’s a big deal if I’m bi, sexual that is, not polar… because it’s not, just so ya know.”

Still no reply (of course). 

There were footsteps, and Zach looked up in time to lean over and shield the snail from the drunk teens, one of whom accidentally booted Zach in the chest, with quite some force, to be honest.

“Shit, sorry dude! What are you even doing down there?”

Zach sat up, clutching his ribs like a man wounded in battle. “Snail.”

“Sna-sorry, what?”

“ Snail, ” Zach repeated, deadly serious as he looked over at his little buddy, who was still vibing on the street. “Ya legit almost smooshed the lil homie.”

Drunk teen one looked at drunk teen two, and both decided they must be high as fuck, before continuing to stumble down the footpath to their next adventure. 

Zach looked around at the concrete jungle they were in. Then slowly, very gently, he cupped both hands and scooped up the snail with the kind of care normally reserved for glass ornaments or newborn puppies.

“Ya totz deserve better than this curbside death trap lil home dawg,” he murmured, standing, still a bit wobbly as he scanned the block. There wasn’t a blade of grass in sight, except…

There. 

Bingo.

A hanging basket, bright with trailing vines and tiny flowers, dangling from a chipped window ledge just barely within reach if he stood on the base of a streetlamp and stretched.

He climbed, as carefully as he could while wobbly, after all he was still drunk, still dumb, and still very determined.

And with all the reverence of someone placing an offering on a shrine, Zach settled the snail in the dampest patch of green in the basket.

“There you go, buddy,” he drunk whispered at the basket hanging under some poor soul window. “Live your best life. Be brave. Be bisexual if you want, like it doesn’t matter right, like it’s legit 2025.”

Then he dropped back down to the sidewalk, landing harder than he intended. He sat there for a second, legs splayed, hoodie twisted, hands resting on his knees.

“Shit.” 

**

The next morning, Zach stumbled into the kitchen like a wounded animal. His head pounded like a jackhammer in a concrete mixer, and his legs felt like they’d been through a minor car crash. He was barefoot, shirtless, and one sock was hanging halfway off his foot like it had lost the will to live.

He was aiming for the fridge, the promise of a blue Powerade calling to him like a religious vision, when he physically collided with a human wall.

Cassidy in just his boxers, freshly woken up as well, but looking a lot more alive than Zach.

“Jesus dude, can ya watch it, idiot,” Cassidy grunted, nearly dropping his bowl of cereal before he took in Zach’s state. “Dude, you look like actual death.”

“Thanks, mate,” Zach croaked, squinting at the fridge like it might move if he stared hard enough. “Appreciate the support in this time of need.”

He yanked open the fridge door, spotted the blessed blue bottle, and cradled it like a newborn.

His brain was still spinning from the night before. He’d spent hours tossing in bed, tangled in sheets and overthinking everything. Every kiss, every sound, every moan , both his and Christian’s.

The question had been bubbling at the base of his skull all night. And now, with a headache the size of Texas and absolutely no filter left in his system (if he had one to start with), it came out.

“Hey, uh… Cassidy?” he mumbled, unscrewing the cap.

Cassidy, already halfway through his cereal, raised a brow without looking up. “Yeah bro, what’s up?”

“Is it, like… gay to fuck a guy?”

Cassidy, to his credit, didn't flinch at the question. Only the slightest pause before he kept stirring his cereal like this was the most casual morning chat in the world. 

“Depends,” he said dryly. “Did he give you twenty bucks? Did you say ‘no homo’? Did your balls touch?”

Zach nearly choked on the first sip of Powerade. “No! None of that! I mean…it wasn’t….” He gestured vaguely with the bottle. “I was just asking for a friend. Hypothetically, of course. Honestly it’s even kinda wild you would assume.”

“Sure,” Cassidy said, completely unimpressed. Then he stood up, set his bowl down, and casually dropped his boxers to his ankles. 

Zach buried his face in his hands with a sigh, before trying not to vomit.

Cassidy stood there, shamelessly naked, hands on hips like he was striking a pose for an anatomy textbook. “So,” he said, voice completely deadpan, “does this turn you on?”

Zach stared for half a second, then rolled his eyes. “Mate. Come on.”

Not that Cassidy was unattractive, it’s just, well Cassidy was Cassidy. The only reason why Zach blew him that one time was because Cassidy's girlfriend had gotten stuck in Chicago in a blizzard and it had been like two weeks. 

“What? You curious? Wanna taste it?” Cassidy asked, giving it a lazy helicopter spin just to be a menace.

“Aww, come on,” Zach groaned, leaning against the fridge like he needed physical support to deal with this conversation. “That’s not sexy. That’s a legit war crime, and like, I’m legit trying not to vomit already.”

Zach sank into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh, taking another long sip from his blue Powerade, although he was pretty sure it was not working.

Cassidy plopped down across from him, finally getting serious, or as serious as Cassidy ever got, especially given he was still naked. 

“So,” he said, tone more level now. “What do you think? You feel gay? Are you gonna put one of those lil rainbow flags in the corner of your insta profile? Serious, you’d love the attention at those parades where everyone walks around naked in jockstraps… although, you would have some serious competition, might dint the old ego buddy.”

Zach wrinkled his nose. “No, noooo…. like… I still love titties. Love ‘em, like who doesn’t love bouncy titties in ya face, ya know?”

Cassidy nodded solemnly. “Titties are fucking great.” before leaning across to fist pump Zach.

They then sat there in silence for a moment, as Cassidy scratched his nuts and Zach sipped slowly on the Powerade, trying to ease his stomach.

Then Cassidy added, “Serious man, ya know you can like tits and still wanna suck dick sometimes. It ain’t all-or-nothing bro, life doesn’t have to be black and white… and, just so you know, if that were, umm, the case, well, nothing would change between us.”

Zach didn’t respond right away. He stared at the condensation on the Powerade bottle, fingers tracing the edge of the label.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“So, you gonna blow this now or?”

“I’m gonna go vomit.” Zach replied, losing the battle with his stomach, scrambling off the chair to make it in time. 

Cassidy watched as Zach disappeared and crossed his arms in a huff, “Well, that’s rude.” 

**

All out of vomit, and freshly showered, feeling a bit more alive Zach crashed on the couch before considering his options. 

Now, Cassidy was great. He was a solid mate, especially just before, but Zach needed someone older and wiser. Someone who had lived a little, made some mistakes and came out the other side.

He needed someone who knew what it was like to be a fuckboy and find out you were bi…

**

Tommy’s house felt empty, possibly because Tommy had abandoned Buck, left him alone lying on the couch with only Mister Thomas, the stray cat that Zach had forced upon them for company. 

Now, technically, Tommy had a shift, but Buck was not in the mood for excuses as he lay there, definitely not getting cuddled on his day off. Frankly, it should be against the law; in fact, he might even consult Athena on it.

Distracting him from his daydream of Prisoner!Tommy and Officer!Evan, there was a loud knock at the door, then the doorbell went, followed by the sound of the door opening. 

Which could mean only one thing, Buck thought to himself.

“Dumbass, you’re meant to wait till someone answers the door.” He yelled, debating bothering getting up, but it would upset Mister Thomas, the cat, and also he couldn’t be bothered.

“Yo yo yo, Fuck with B, how’s it hanging my man.” Zach called out, appearing in Tommy’s living room distinctly uninvited. “You good?”  He asked, pointing some finger guns at Buck, “Because you look amazing dawg.”

Then: “Oh my god, Mister Thomas, awwwwwwwwwwwww who’s a lil cutie, you are, yes you are, you’re so cute and perfect and….” 

There was a doof noise as Zach literally dropped to his knees next to the couch, and Buck winced at the mere thought,he was only eight or so years older than the idiot kneeling next to him currently patting the grumpy cat, and his knees would kill him if he tried a similar move.

Then again, he did have a firetruck land on him, so… you know, maybe cut Buck some slack. He was still young. 

Not as young as Ravi, maybe… and definitely not as young and dumb as Zach.

There was a hiss, and Mister Thomas was swooped off Buck’s knee and into Zach’s arms as the said idiot tried ‘psp psp psp’ing the demon kitty. Unfortunately, Demon kitty was not in the mood for Zach’s charms and promptly scratched him without warning.

“N’aaaw, lil man, ya wound me. Hashtag betrayed, bro.”

Despite the betrayal, Zach let Mister Thomas down gently as Buck sat up on the couch, weighing up moving so Zach could sit next to him or deliberately taking up the whole couch.

Then again, Zach would probably just sit on him. 

“Uh, sorry Zach, but uh, Tommy’s at work today.” Buck explained, only slightly puzzled that Zach himself didn’t know that. 

Except, an interesting and very vibrant shade of pink crawled up (or raced might be a more suitable term) Zach’s neck, across his face and up to the tip of his ears and his fuckboy haircut, complete with stylish fade.

“Ummm, yeah dawg, I know.”

It was Buck’s fault, because instead of saying anything, he just gave Zach a look that said ‘Well, why are you here?’ to which Zach just awkwardly fidgeted on the spot.

Right then, words then. “So, uh, is there anything that maybe I could, uh-” Was Buck going to regret this question, “-huh, help you with, Zach? Maybe something easy like where the door is?” It was only half a joke. 

Face still flushed pink, Zach ducked his head and rubbed his face a few times before squeaking out, in a very manly manner, “Hmm, do you like, I dunno man, want a beer or something?”

“I’m sorry, did you break into my boyfriend's house when you knew he was at work to steal one of his beers?”

Zach whipped his head back up, “What, no man, who the fuck does that, like that would just be, like, weird or shit…”

“Then why are you here?” 

If Buck had felt second hand pain from  Zach dropping to his knees, then this did him in, as Zach flopped back onto the floor like it was nothing so he was staring up at the ceiling, hands clasped over his chest. 

“Look dawg, like I legit don’t wanna over step any boundaries here-” and you would not believe how hard it was for Buck not to laugh, biting his lip to try and choke back the chuckle that threatened to escape. “-and I get that you’re like, Tommy’s boyfriend, so maybe you don’t even…” Zach’s voice sort of trailed off into the distance.

“Even what Zach?”

“Hehehe, even Evan… hahaha…”

“Zach, focus, please.” Buck pleaded.

“Right, uh, like, I dunno if we have the sort of, ya know, relationship where I can ask you something like, super personal, and I don’t wanna weird you out or anything because like, Tommy is really down bad for you bro….”

This time Buck wasn’t able to hold back the surprised noise that escaped his lips, “Zach…”

Nope, Buck was at a loss for words. 

Then with a huge sigh, Buck rubbed his temple, “Uh, well you should, if you’re comfortable-” and Buck cringed, if Zach was comfortable? Zach literally broke into their house and started making weird comments to him and Buck was worried about Zach’s comfortable levels? “-Uh, just ask me, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Oh, that was asking for it, he knew it. 

Especially given Zach sat back up and looked at him, really looked at him. “Well it’s just, like, I’m normal, right?”

Well, no, Buck thought to himself, but he just nodded politely. 

“Not that uh, there’s anything wrong with the gay rights? Or even women, like, women's rights are great, right?”

“Hmm, I’m sorry, was that a question?” Buck asked, focusing on Zach, who was squirming more than he was used to.

“Wait, what, like, no man, no… not at all. Like, sluts, prudes, trans, gays, all the weirdos out there, it’s all dope, right? Like, live your truth…”

Rubbing his temple, Buck swung his legs off the couch, “Thanks for the input, I’m not quite sure-”

“Hold up king, legit, I got off track I know, but please…”

“Yes?”

“Right, so like there’s nothing wrong with that right, and you and Tommy are goals, forever right, no cap, straight bussin in that bussy boys-” Zach must have caught Buck’s look because he hurried, “-Anyway, it’s just like, I’m not right… or at least, I shouldn’t, right? Like my dad is already super disappointed in me, like every part of me. I’m not a banker, I’m not smart, I didn’t graduate fucking whatever it is after high school…”

Buck looked at Zach, flummoxed for a second, before asking “Do you mean college ?”

“Sick, that’s the one, like, sure the parties were fire bro, but the studying, not so lit... Ya know… anyway, uh, it’s just… how did you know that you were like, well…”

“Bi-sexual?” Buck offered, being able to keep track of the conversation and hoping to guide it back to on track, or you know, as on track as a conversation with Zach could be. 

Clearing his throat, Zach gave a stiff nod, just as Buck tilted his head, squinting at him curiously.

“Okay, uh, just wait a minute, correct me if I’m wrong here,” Buck began, “but, huh, haven’t you… y’know… sucked dick before? Like, multiple times?”

Unconvinced by that question, Zach waved a hand dismissively at Buck. “Yo, bro, that doesn’t count. That was just between bros when the chicks were being lame. Everybody knows that’s not gay.”

It was Buck’s turn to be unconvinced as he stared at Zach, letting the disbelief colour his face. “Uh, I dunno bud, pretty sure somebody would argue it is.”

Zach shrugged it off. “Lots of straight guys mess around with guys to get off. I’m talking about something different. Like… seeing a dude and thinking... stuff. You know man? You know.”

Zach chewed on his lip, “See, I kinda, maybe, sort of…”

“Yes?”

“Fucked a guy last night.” 

Buck’s brain hiccupped as he processed the bluntness of the comment and the information that had come with it. “You.. I’m sorry … uh, no not sorry, uh, right. Okay. So… congrats?” It came out like a question, which, judging by Zach’s confused squint, wasn’t the correct response.

“Congrats? What am I, accepting an award?” Zach snorted. “Nah, man, I’m saying it ‘cause now I’m freakin’ out right? Like, was it just a one-off, or do I-” He gestured vaguely, “-y’know, want more of that? And…and… and like if I do, does that mean that I’m like.. Ya know.”

Buck’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “That’s… kinda only something you can figure out, bud. I mean, I can’t… like, chart your… uh… preferences for you.”

Zach laughed, but it had that nervous edge. “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t wanna figure it out. Like ya know, maybe it’s easier to just-” He shrugged, “-pretend it didn’t happen, ya feel me?”

Buck frowned, unimpressed with the sentiment. “Uh, right, ‘cause repressing stuff always ends well. No one has ever regretted ignoring their feelings, huh.”

Zach gave him a look. “Uh, no way, this coming from the guy who moped around on his stupid ass instead of talking to my man Tommy.”  

“Hey, now that,” Buck pointed a finger, “Just proves my point doesn’t it.”

“Woah.” Zach replied like his tiny mind was blown wide open, “Oh, shit dawg, you’re like, so wise. Must be because you're so old and had like, so much life experience huh?” 

Where was Mister Thomas when you needed him and his claws? 

Zach scratched the back of his neck, humming on a question, “So, bro, how did you know? For real? That you were bi and not just a good looking ally with arms of steel?”

How did Buck know? 

“Well, I guess when Tommy kissed me in my old loft, and everything sort of just clicked in my mind, like decades of unrealised moments and stuff, still took a moment…”

Buck paused, and looked down at Zach before he narrowed his eyes, “No. You are not kissing my boyfriend.” 

“Bro, I would never kiss your boyfriend,” Zach said firmly, almost convincing before… “Although, he is quite ruggedly handsome right, like with those arms, and those thighs….” Zach trailed off as he made awkward eye contact with Buck before he shrugged, “You, my friend, got super lucky.” 

“Uh cheers, I think.”

**

An hour later, Buck finally managed to bundle Zach toward the door like he was herding an especially talkative sheep. He opened it, ready for freedom, but Zach planted a hand on his shoulder and yanked him in close.

“Hey, bro, can you do me a massive solid? Like, for real?”

Buck gave him a wary side-eye. “Depends on how legal it is.”

Zach grinned. “Ha, nah, it’s all good in the ol’ hood. But… do you mind not saying anything to T-Bone about our little boyz chat?”

Buck leaned against the doorframe, trying to piece together the logic. “Well, uh… yeah, sure. I mean, it’s your place to tell people. But you know that Tommy won’t…”

He trailed off, stuck somewhere between it’s not my business and how do you not know this already? “I mean, Zach, it’s Tommy. He’s not gonna have a problem if you’re bi.”

Zach shifted his weight, glancing away. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Honest. It’s just… I worry he might think I’m hitting on him, and I’m not. I mean, yeah, he’s hot as fuck and he’s got a beautiful coc-”

“Zach.”

“-uhhh, cooking setup, ya know, in the ol’ kitchen. Totz what I meant.” Zach coughed into his fist. “Anyway, point is… I’d appreciate it if you kept it on the downlow for now.”

Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. “Uh, okay, fine. But you’re making this way weirder than it needs to be, and I don’t do well with keeping secrets.”

“Story of my life, King.” Zach clapped him on the arm and started down the steps, calling back over his shoulder, “Love to the T-Bone!”

**

Now, Zach was not avoiding Tommy, or Lucy.

Okay, he was.

But it wasn’t for the reason anyone might think.

See, the issue wasn’t that he was bi. Being bi was great, actually, if you asked him, it was kind of the moral high ground of sexuality. Like, why would he, a young, hot, perfectly serviceable specimen of human excellence, and then limit his fine self to just one sex? 

That would be discrimination, and Zach Anderson was not a bigot. Equal opportunity all the way, baby. 

No, the real issue was that Zach had always been… well, Zach (as opposed to a ‘Zachary’). You know, loud, just a little overboard, and Tommy was fine with it, actually, he liked it (truthfully, Tommy had been worn down like a rock in a stream), a bit like how you eventually stop hating a catchy jingle and just hum along to it in the shower.

But now? If Tommy knew Zach was bi, he might… think things. Specifically, he might think Zach was hitting on him. Which, obviously, he wasn’t, mostly. 

Not that Tommy wasn’t attractive; Because, let’s be clear, “Daddy-T” was ridiculously attractive. Like, chest-for-days, arms-that-could-carry-you-through-a-fire attractive. That jawline could probably slice through drywall. And yeah, there was the whole “wise, heroic, been-there-seen-that” thing, plus that tiny streak of bitchy sassiness Zach liked to poke at just to see it flare.

Oh, Tommy was the king of one-liners. 

But he was also… a dad. Not literally (well, maybe in the mentor sense), but the vibe was there. He was Dad Energy in a hot package. And Zach wasn’t about to ruin a good thing by making it weird.

Tommy was like the dad he never had, and his dad was very much still alive (and very rich). 

Because here was the truth: he liked things the way they were with Tommy and Lucy. The banter. The teasing. The way they had his back even when he was being his usual disaster self. And he wasn’t going to let the whole “oh by the way, I also like dudes” thing mess that up.

So yeah. He was avoiding them. But in the noble, self-sacrificing way, kinda like Superman, only Zach wore his undies the right away around.

Then again, probably an equal amount of strangers had seen Zach’s underwear, so….

What was Zach’s point again? Oh yes, he was a coward.

But so was Tommy, so you know, like mentor, like probie. 

**

Tommy came through the door, dropping his keys and gear on the bench with a soft clatter. Buck glanced up from where he was leaning against the counter, those soft blue eyes and easy, plump-lipped smile doing that irritating thing where they immediately took the edge off Tommy’s mood.

“Hard day?” Buck asked.

“Not really. Just… damn Zach.” Tommy let out a tired breath, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Annoyed, yes, but also curious why Buck suddenly looked… guilty?

“Zach?” Buck echoed, but his tone was just slightly off.

“Yeah. Little bastard’s been avoiding me and Lucy like we’ve got the plague.” Tommy reached for an orange, rolling it between his palms just to have something to keep his hands busy.

“Weird, huh? But, you know Zach,” Buck said, his voice stumbling over the words. “He, uh… he can be strange. Sometimes.”

Oh. Buck knew something. Tommy could see it clear as day in the way his gaze darted away. Thank god Buck was a terrible liar. 

“Oh, huh, do you want a bath? To, uh, relax you…” Buck asked suddenly, like he could change the subject by dangling a more appealing offer in front of him. “Huh, I was thinking, I could join you.”

Well, there was more to the story but also Tommy was a lot of things (including stupid) but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down a Bath with his boyfriend. 

Buck, wet, soapy and completely undone in his hands? Yes please. 

**

The next morning, Zach was getting gas for his baby, the dark blue WRX when he saw Joaquín, his former Nanny’s son across the forecourt (His parents were rich, okay).

“Jock!” Zach called out, “No way bro, good to see you!”

Joaquin looked at Zach, then turned away, which was unusual. “Mr. Howard, sorry, I don’t have time to chat today.”

Zach screwed up his face, “Come on Jock, what’s with the Mr. Howard business, it’s me, Zach. Hey, how’s your mother doing dude? I haven’t seen Carmen in waaaay too long, I’ve been legit slack.”

Turning at last, Joaquin looked Zach dead in the eyes, “Shit dude, did no one tell you?”

“No? Tell me what? I’ve been a bit M.I.A since I joined the fire department dude, I actually sent your mom a text a few days back but she hasn’t even read it yet… olds, am I right? No good with phones.”

They both stood there on the forecourt for a moment, surrounded by the smell of gasoline, the rush of other people going about their business. 

“She’s dead.” Joaquin said simply, and Zach laughed before he stopped, sort of awkwardly standing there on the forecourt.

“Jock?”

“She died, a few months back. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised your dad didn’t go, even after everything, but it stung you weren’t there… but I guess, it wasn’t your fault after all.”

Zach literally pulled Jock into a bear hug on the forecourt, as Jock rolled his teary eyes, “Fuck, I forgot how touchy you are man, oh great, and there go the tears… I had managed to go two days without crying over her before I saw your stupid face.”

“Dude, she was the G.O.A.T bro, I loved her.”

“Yeah, well, she was pretty fond of you, her little Cachorro Desordendao,” Joaquin said, wiping his face as Zach laughed at the nickname. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to say goodbye.” Zach said, “Are you okay? Oh shit, like that’s a dumb question, but like… are you?”

“I dunno, to be honest.” Joaquin replied honestly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stood next to his car, “Everyday, just the same pain, but life keeps going.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, of course… uh, do you like, mind if I ask you where she is? If it’s cool with ya, I’d like to go say goodbye to her.”

With a sad, but happy smile, Joaquin nodded, “Momma would love it if you visited.” 

**

Once at work, Zach tried to work out if he could say something to Tommy about Carmen without risking bringing up his new found sexuality. 

Something like, “Yo T-Bone, I’m legit down, I just found out my Nanny, who my rich father hired so he didn’t have to deal with me, died. Also, I found out that I like dudes as well…”

Hmm. Maybe not. 

So he instead hung around Colin and Firth, who were both lame and boring… They hadn’t stolen city property before or caught a lady falling from a high-rise by leaning out of a window, or climbed from a speeding firetruck to an out of control ute with a bomb on it. 

Point being, they were not Tommy and Lucy. They were Colin and Firth, which was fine, but not exciting, fun or bold. Simply put, he was gonna have to man up and tell Daddy-T and Juicy before he went insane. 

Also he had the funniest cat meme to show both of them, like, it was an absolute banger, no notes. 

**

Before Zach could man up though, Tommy and Lucy opted to take matters into their own hands. One shift of being straight up ignored by Zach was a blessing, but two was pushing their luck.

Also, only to himself, Tommy missed having his loud, obnoxious side kick that he was consistently apologizing for, he had gone to six call outs and not had to say sorry to a single person for a comment. 

Not one person. 

**

Lucy was ready to go home, it had been a long day and to be honest, Kinard and Anderson were getting on her last nerves. Boys will be boys, but brats need smacks around the head.

“Kinard” She greeted by the locker room door, barely able to keep herself from rolling her eyes “And to what do I owe this pleasure.” 

“Donato, can’t a friend just catch up with a…” Tommy started, but the fidgeting with his jacket zipper gave him away. 

“Save it Kinard, I have two episodes of ‘Love n Lava’ to catch up on.” Lucy replied, “So, make it snappy or be gone.” 

Clearing his throat, Tommy shifted his weight subtly before he continued “It’s just, have you noticed lately that, ummm, Zach has been…”

“Ignoring us? Moping? Moody? More of a brat than normal? Yes, Kinard, I have eyes, I have a brain, and I have noticed.” 

“Well, I was thinking we could-”

“Talk to him?” she guessed, tilting her head with a cocky little grin, “Like adults?” 

-Follow him” Tommy finished, before his face went slightly red.

“Jesus Kinard, honestly, this explains so much about you and Buck.”

“So, you’re not in?”

She smirked, grabbing her jacket from the hook. “Oh no, I’m in, for sure but ah, don’t run us off the road trying to keep up with Zach okay?”

“Mmm, and what are you implying?”

“I’ve seen the way he drives, Kinard.” Lucy said simply, and honestly, it was true. There’s a reason Zach’s WRX was all-wheel-drive. 

**

Ahead of Tommy and Lucy, the taillights of the blue WRX they were following suddenly blinked as the car made a sharp turn down into a narrow entrance. 

“So much for the five-second rule,” Tommy muttered to himself.  

Tommy turned into the narrow lane, slowing the truck as the path curved beneath a canopy of trees. The gravel lane continued straight ahead, which made it a surprise that the WRX was already out of sight. Still, Tommy made his way along the narrow lane. 

“Wasn’t it just there?” Lucy asked, “Although the way he drifted around that corner, it’s actually surprising the kid still has his license.”

The second he spotted the familiar wrought-iron sign up ahead, his stomach dropped.

“Shit,” Lucy muttered, her eyes following his as she also realised where they were. “Is this… the cemetery?”

Tommy eased the truck to a stop. “No wonder he’s been all quiet. Damn it. We should go.”

Lucy winced slightly as she stared at the sign. “Yeah, well, this has certainly gone from fun after-work spy mission on our dopey idiot to gate-crashing a private moment, hasn’t it?” 

“Pretty much.”

“Abort mission, abort mission,” Lucy said, tapping the dashboard of the truck, as if that would some how make it quicker to turn Tommy’s massive truck around on the narrow lane. 

“Thank you, because I thought continuing with our little plan was the best course of action.” Tommy sighed and shifted into reverse, about to swing the truck around and out when the sleek blue Subaru WRX pulled in behind them, boxing them in.

“Shit, how is he behind us?” Tommy mumbled. 

“Ah, I think we’ve been caught red-handed Tommy,” Lucy muttered, shrinking slightly in her seat. “Cover story?”

“Know any dead people?” Tommy deadpanned. 

“Not any that would be helpful right now.”

Meanwhile, Zach stepped out of his car and strolled toward them, hands in his pockets, expression somewhat unreadable, but hopefully somewhere between amused and suspicious. 

It was biologically impossible for Zach to be mad at them, right? Like, he was always hyped up on sugar and positive vibes. 

Except recently, which is why they had sort of, kind of, possibly slightly stalked him. 

“Sup, Tommy. Yo, Lucy. What an absolute wild place to run into you guys after hours, huh? Like, what are the odds, ahhh, yip, yip, yip, what are the odds indeed,” he said casually, but his tone was just a little too neutral to be nothing. The younger man chewed on his bottom lip for a second before saying, “Absolutely crazy team, just simply wild.” 

Tommy opened his door, already bracing himself. “Zach…” he started, guilt already creeping in.

Zach raised a brow, tilting his head slightly. “So dawg, are you two like, fully following me, or just taking the scenic route to the bar? Because spoilers, this here is a straight up dead end for real.”

Lucy held up her hands. “Swear to God, we didn’t know you were coming here.”

“Huh.” Zach said simply, playing with his fingernails. “‘Coz ya know that makes it sounds like you were legit stalking me in T-Bone’s big ass truck, like, spoiler alert, I do use my mirrors, although granted I’m normally looking out for the ol’ red n blue lights….”

Tommy sighed again, running a hand down his face. “Look, I’m sorry, Zach, it’s just we were a tad worried about you, after all, you disappeared after shift without a word, which, to be fair, for you is very unusual.”

Zach looked away, clearly thrown for a moment, then he softened slightly. “Yeah, well… sometimes like a guy needs a moment, y’know? Hashtag quiet place ha?”

Tommy nodded. “I get that. We’ll give you space.”

But Zach just shrugged. “Eh team, like, you’re here now. Might as well say hi with me… ya know, if you want? Like, I don’t mind either way, but…”

Then the younger man twisted on the spot, “Plus, there is legit something else I’ve been meaning to tell ya, so, yeah” before he got back into his car. 

“I would say his communication ability rivals yours” Lucy commented, somewhat unnecessary in Tommy’s view. 

**

The WRX pulled around Tommy’s truck, which felt a tad disrespectful in the cemetery, but Zach didn’t drive over any graves, so Tommy was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have to come back with Buck and ask another long-dead figure to remove their curse.  There were only so many curses Tommy could ask spirits to lift before people might think he believed in all that crap too. 

Zach parked further down the narrow lane, killed the engine, and hopped out, and leaned against the car with crossed arms, sunglasses perched low on his nose like a god damn poser as he waited for Lucy and Tommy to climb out the truck.

“Damn, you are so old ‘n slow team, legit feel like I aged a full decade waiting for you to climb out.”

Turning to Tommy, Lucy smiled, “Hey, at least there’s plenty of places to hide his body out here.”

“No one would suspect a thing.”

“People would understand, we would get a light sentence.” Lucy agreed as they followed Zach down the worn path to a small, weathered gravestone. Zach dropped into a crouch in front of it, digging a crumpled rose out of his hoodie pocket. He frowned at the flattened petals before setting it down gently at the base of the stone.

“Ah… sorry, Nan. Got a bit squashed in the hoody.”

Lucy’s teasing expression softened. She stepped closer and placed a hand on Zach’s back. “Is this your Nana?”

“Nanny,” Zach corrected with a faint smile. “My father and stepmother didn’t exactly have time to raise me, so they hired her. Carmen was her name. Tried to act all serious and firm, kinda like a proper British governess from Britain but she was such a softie.”

His fingers brushed the engraved letters, tracing them like they were fragile. “Legit, she’s the only adult who ever said she was prou-” He cut himself off, jaw tightening with a click. “Anyway. She was the G.O.A.T. for real. And no one told me she was dead. My father knew, and just… nothing. Not even an email update.”

Zach’s laugh was short and bitter. “I would have gone, you know, to the funeral. Legit, with a suit ‘n tie and the workz. Damn it, I meant to reach out earlier.”

“We all do.” Tommy said, “But life gets in the way.”

Zach twisted on the spot, “I thought it was life finds a way.”

“From the dinosaur movie,” Lucy explained unhelpfully as Tommy sighed.

“I know where it’s from”. Tommy snapped under his breath. He wasn’t that old, he still went to the movies. 

Lucy crouched down beside him, tilting her head at the little gravestone. “So, Zach, you’re telling me this woman put up with you as a kid and didn’t throw herself into an open window to escape you? She really was a saint.”

Zach huffed out something that could’ve been a laugh or just him trying not to cry. “Excuse me, she loved me, thank you very much. I was adorable.”

Tommy stayed standing, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, looking down at Zach, “Mmmm, so when did that change then?”

Still kneeling, Zach glanced up, lips quirking. “High school, I went from being cute ‘n adorable to a fucking stud, I mean, shit… sorry Nanny, she used to hate swearing… and also, when I posted shirtless pics. She was worried I might get a cold… used to tell her I was more likely to catch something else, if you know what I mean.”

 “Congratulations, you just made me regret asking.” Tommy replied deadpan. 

“Okay, that’s gross.” Lucy laughed despite herself, “I can’t believe I’m laughing at that, you are just gross Zach, just… gross.” 

A peaceful moment passes while they all sort of stand there, Lucy rubbing soothing circles on Zach’s back as the younger man pretends he’s not crying. 

“So, this is what you’ve been keeping from us?” Tommy asked gently, assuming this is why Zach’s been acting strange lately. 

To Tommy’s surprise, Zach cocked his head, eyes going from the gravestone to Tommy, “What?”

“You told Buck something you haven’t felt comfortable sharing with me-us, with us.” Tommy explained, ignoring Lucy's knowing smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh damn, legit he didn’t squeal? Not even a bit?” 

“So it’s not the Nanny that’s turned you into ghost the last few shifts?”

“Oh, no, not the dead Nanny, no, I only found out about that before the shift, do you know how hard it’s been not to say something, like bro, I needed you and I couldn’t because, well, legit there is something a lil wild I’m hiding from ya, but it’s not a big dealio right?” Zach rambled, eyes staring intensely at the half smooshed flower on the grave-site. 

“Oh, well, what is it? You can share with us, this is a judgment-free zone?” Tommy pressed gently.

“Well, to be fair, we judge all the time, but it makes no difference to you.” Lucy corrected with a teasing grin. 

Zach looked between them. For a moment, he actually hesitated. But then he shrugged, like he was tossing off a jacket, and exhaled.

“So, turns out your boy Zach is bi,” he said, like it was the most mundane thing in the world. “Like, full-on dick and pussy enthusiast. Equal opportunity seducer, lock up your daughters and your sons… oh wait, you're both childless… not that that is a bad thing, like children are terrible, and noisy, and hmm, anyway. Hi, I’m bi.”

Lucy snorted into her sleeve.

Now, Tommy was not surprised in the least but he tried to act shocked, then nodded, lips twitching like he was fighting off a smile. “Mhmm, well, just wow. I am shocked, in awe even. Truly, I never saw it coming,” he deadpanned, lips twitching like he was fighting a smile. “You, bi? Someone call the newspaper, Donato, are you getting this?”

“Here I was thinking he drooled over you in the shower because he was a sucker for LAFD budget soap.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “You could at least pretend to be surprised, I was legit worried about telling ya.”

“Zach,” Tommy said dryly, “you flirt with anything that makes eye contact and has a pulse. Honestly, I’m more shocked it took you this long to click.”

“Oh, we’re not done.” Zach continued, tone too casual to be safe. “Like, I’ve known for a while. Just didn’t say shit. Didn’t wanna make it weird, you know?”

“It’s not weird,” Tommy said, voice level, trying to be supportive for a moment. “It’s you.” which in hindsight sounded more than a little cringe, and especially when Lucy gave him that look.

The next bit was Tommy’s fault for trying to be supportive and forgetting that it was still Zach, as Zach huffed a little, “Yeah, well, ya know that’s what they all say until you casually mention that, like  you totz got railed in a Waffle House restroom by some dude who kept his sunglasses on the whole time and made you cum with your elbow on a fucking toilet paper dispenser.”

Ahhh, okay, Tommy thought to himself, suddenly scratching the back of his neck as Lucy laughed, shaking her head. 

“And, look, I mean, the vibe was trucker porn, but not in a good way, more like behind the scenes, what they don’t show you,” Zach went on. “Plus, legit, his dick wasn’t even that nice. Like, honestly, but yours? Way better, bro, Buck is one lucky man.”

“Zach.” Tommy said simply.

“Yeah?”

“Please, please shut up.”

“No, but wait, that was my concern.”

Lucy chewed her lip in mock thought for a second, before squinting at Zach, “Your concern was Tommy’s dick was nicer than someone random hook up?” 

“What, no, oh guys, come on okay, like this is serial here. Please focus.” Zach all but whined, “It’s just, ya know, sometimes I can get a bit touchy right? And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you knew I was bi.”

Tommy looked at Zach, completely serious, “Zach, sometimes the way you touch me makes me uncomfortable when I thought you were straight-ish”

“So, nothing changes?” 

“Well, that’s one way of looking at it, another way is…”

But Tommy did not get a chance to finish his sentence before Zach leapt up and literally crushed him in the bear hug. 

**

They were just about to leave when another car pulled into the cemetery and parked a few spaces away. A petite Spanish woman stepped out, adjusting her sunglasses before calling out brightly, “Mr. Howard! I did not expect to see you here!”

Looking around, Tommy couldn’t see anyone else around them, and was surprised when Zach answered with a “Yo, come on now, how oft’ have I told ya, it’s just Zach.”

Tommy squinted at him, then exchanged a confused look with Lucy. “Mr. Howard?” he echoed, looking at Zach who glared at him. 

“Ugh. Gross,” Zach muttered, stuffing his phone in his pocket, “Do I look like a stuffy Mr. Howard to you? Hashtag tweed nerd alert.”

Joining in, Lucy cocked her head, letting her curiosity get the better of her - she had learnt sometimes asking Zach questions was not worth the answer, “I thought you were Zach Anderson…”

Before Zach could stop her, the woman beamed and helpfully chimed in, “Ahh yes, Mister Zachary Anderson Charles Howard! My sweet dear sister, Carmen, helped raise him from a baby, such a sweet little boy! She was always so proud. Her little Cachorro Desordendao all grown up.”

Zach looked like he wanted the pavement to open up and swallow him whole

“Well, I’m glad someone was.” Zach muttered, before avoiding eye contact with Tommy, with a deep sigh, “Anderson was my mother’s last name, and I prefer it, it’s 2025, I can choose my own identity.”

“Mmm, yeah, no that’s cool, it’s just I never realised… wait,” Tommy stopped in his tracks as Lucy’s eyes went wide.

Lucy then covered her mouth, attempting to mask her giggle before giving up. “Oh my God. Did you just click too?”

Zach groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “Nope. Nope. No, we are absolutely not doing this. I swear to god….”

Tommy took a step back, holding up a finger like he was piecing together a conspiracy theory. “Hold up. Zach. Your full name is Zachary Anderson Charles Howard?”

“Once again, I choose to identify as Zach Anderson, or Zach Attack, or Anderson.”

“That means…”Tommy said, blinking in disbelief. “Your initials are literally… Z.A.C.H.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before Lucy let out a snort. “Forget Zach Attack, we should be calling you Zach Zach, this is amazing.”

Zach dropped his hands and glared at both of them. “Not funny, guys.”

“It’s very funny,” Lucy corrected, smirking.

The lady smiled politely at everyone, before looking back at Zach with kind eyes. “Mister Zach, what are you doing here?”

“Ah, Emilia, I bumped into Jock at the gas station, and he told me about your sister, so I had to come pay my…” What a time to forget the English language, Zach mentally scolded himself as his mind came up blank. 

“Respect.” Tommy whispered in his ear, thank god for Tommy - see, Colin wouldn’t do that for him.

“Respect to Carmen, after everything she did for me. Your sister was a saint, and a-a lovely person.” 

Emilia’s face softened. “Aww, thank you so much, Mister Zach. It would mean the world to her to see you here for little old Nanny Carmen…”

Zach nodded, then immediately blurted, “Why such a small gravestone? Uh, if you don’t mind me asking.” His hand went to the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the ground like he realised he’d bulldozed into a sensitive question.

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” Emilia waved gently. “My sister had a small life insurance policy, but most of it went into other costs. And you know our brother; he’s not been well for quite some time. And when she had to leave the Howards… well, she lost her coverage with your family. But we understand. She was not an employee anymore.”

Something in Zach’s posture shifted; subtle yes, but both Tommy and Lucy caught it. His easy grin didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore as something clouded the back of his eyes.

“Right,right,right…” Zach said, folding his arms loosely across his chest. “Well… always a pleasure, Emilia. But we better get going.”

Neither Tommy or Lucy missed the change in tone in Zach’s voice as he politely gave Emilia a kiss on the cheek and disappeared back up the path. 

**

By the time Lucy and Tommy made their way back to the vehicles, Zach was already on the phone. They could only hear Zach’s side of the phone call.

“Hey Mr Howard, it’s Zach.”

Then:

“No, not Zach from the investment firm.”

A deep sigh.

“No, not Zach from the bank either,.”

A click of the tongue.

“Nope, not Zach from the property group, no… look. No, it’s your son Zach… Yes, no, I’m still not working for an investment company…. Yeah, no I know I’m wasting my life… yup, still playing firefighter… Nope, still renting… yup, still single… okay there’s a reason why I called you… no, don’t worry your secretary remembered my birthday… look, Mr Howard, I was just talking to Carmen's sister Emila… Carmen, my Nanny… yes…. Anyway, you remember when you grabbed her butt at the Christmas party… yeah, yeah a lot of precious women these days, ruining all the fun… anyway, I was thinking, damn it would be a shame if she was to suddenly remember right before your run for Governor… yeah, people tend to remember at election time don’t they… yeah, your poor mate Kavanaugh he had a rough time didn’t he? … yeah, yeah… look, I was thinking honestly, a little NDA, a cool $750, get in early and nip it in the bud… yeah, exactly… good idea. Tell your lawyer to reach out to them… yeah, yeah. Good luck Sir.”

Zach hung up the phone, sliding it into his pocket as he leaned against the car.

“They didn’t tell me she was dead, and they just cut off her benefits, just like that?” Zach asked, staring straight ahead, “Fuck them.”

“Uh, what happened at the Christmas party?” Lucy asked, and Zach smiled, but it wasn’t his usual dopey one, it was a far more dark one. 

“Ol’ Mr Howard got too drunk and grabbed Emilia’s butt before he face-planted the table. All on video, Emilia didn’t object of course, she’s been conditioned, ya know, my old man is rich, white and powerful. Ask anyone who matters and they will tell you Mr GJ Howard is a great man, just a bit eccentric. So, she just laughed it off.”

Leaning back on the car, Zach played with his hands, “Ya know, she gave over twenty fucking years to my fam’, twenty whole years, all the shit my brothers pulled, hell dawg, all the shit I pulled… all the shit my ol’ man pulled… and for what, to cut her off ‘cos she had to look after her sick ass brother, nah bro.” 

“Damn, and in return you got your dad to give her, what $750?” Lucy pressed, “I feel like she’d be better off going to court…”

“$750,000,” Zach corrected cooly, “She would never go to court because she doesn’t believe my father did anything wrong, and even if she did, my father has lawyers that would tear it to shreds. No, it’s better this way, being a decision made by the Howards to protect the brand. Easier to sell.” 

“Oh.” Lucy said dumbly, as Tommy looked around, “Man, it’s rough your dad’s a dick, no wonder you have daddy issues, and all those other issues.”

Zach nodded, pocketing his phone, “Ah, luckily I have you to be my backup Daddy.” 

“Mmm, hard pass there kid, I am not your father figure.”

Lucy chuckled, “Sorry Kinard, you totally are… you have a soft spot a mile long for Anderson here, oh wait, sorry, I meant Howard.” 

“Donato, that’s not funny,” Tommy said, though the grin tugging at his mouth betrayed him. He jerked a thumb at Zach, who was already glaring. “Zach-Zach here will get all huffy if you call him Howard. He’s young. He’s hip.”

“And bi,” Lucy added smoothly.

“That too,” Tommy agreed.

“And leaving ,” Zach cut in, already heading for the door. “I’ll see you two assholes tomorrow.”

They both made an exaggerated “Awwww” noise in unison.

“Please don’t be mad, Mister Howard , we’re sorry,” Lucy called after him, not sounding sorry at all.

“Goodbye, fuckers.” Zach fired back, slamming the WRX’s door a little harder than necessary. 

Inside, he rubbed the steering wheel gently, “Sorry Rexie, I didn’t mean it sweetie.” He said to his car, before turning her on and pulling out, resisting the urge to do a burnout because of, ya know, the dead people trying to rest. 

**

Coming home to Buck was always the best part of Tommy’s day. He dropped his keys on the counter and glanced over at his boyfriend, who was, predictably, hunched over the laptop, probably deep-diving into something wildly unrelated to his actual to-do list.

That said, the banana loaf sitting on the counter smelt amazing. 

“Tommy!” Buck lit up, practically bouncing out of his chair, and his boyfriend was not winning against the golden retriever allegations, that’s for sure.  

“How was your day? Did everything go okay at work today?”

“Mmm, pretty good. Zach opened up to me about his recent news.” Tommy said coyly, looking over the flyers on the counter for the new takeaway place.

“Oh, uh, he did?”

“He did.” Tommy confirmed with a small smirk, as he turned over the flyer.

“Thank god, I told him, promise, that you would be okay with him being bi, but he was worried and it was really his..”

“Bi?” Tommy cut in, letting the word hang in the air just long enough to watch Buck’s face twitch in horror. “Because I was talking about his nana. Wait… are you telling me our Zach is bi? I am shocked, didn't see it coming”

“Oh, shit…” Buck groaned. “Tommy, you cannot tell him I-I-” He stopped, narrowing his eyes at Tommy who could no longer keep a straight face. “-You’re a dick. You know that?”

“A dick you can’t get enough of,” Tommy teased, stepping in to wrap Buck up in his arms.

An hour later, over dinner, Buck put down his fork, “We should go on a double date.”

“Who?”

“Us and Zach.” Buck answered over a mouthful of lasagna. 

“Mhmm, that sounds more like a threesome, Evan.” Tommy pointed out, “Is there something you’re trying to tell me.” he asked as he gave his boyfriend a teasing side-eye.

“Uh, noooo. It’s just, uh, that I have a friend, a paramedic at the 107, he’s a good guy. Alex, I think he could be a good match for Zach’s more wild nature.”

Chapter Text

It had been a hard day, so the last thing Tommy really wanted to see when he pulled up was Zach’s blue WRX sitting outside his place, but there it was. 

As he walked inside,hanging up his jacket by the door, he called out, “Evan, babe, I’m home.”

“Ah, in the kitchen Tommy, and uh, we have a guest.”

“I’m not a guest.” He heard Zach complain from the kitchen and, to be fair, Zach was right, he wasn’t a guest, he was a pain in the ass. The question remained however, of why they were blessed with this pain in the ass right now.  

“I know.” Tommy called out, “I was about to call the tow truck on a blue WRX that’s blocking my driveway.” 

“Oh, come on man, that’s for real not funny.” Zach whined from the kitchen as Tommy entered, looking at his boyfriend who smiled bashfully at him, that beautiful, coy smile that just warmed up the room. 

“Eww, gross guys, no lovely dovey eyes around me, please.” Zach ruined the moment, before sipping loudly on his hot chocolate. “All sappy in love and shit.” 

“Mhm, and to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Before Zach could answer, Buck explained for him, “Gay people scared Zach.” complete, with a bit of a grin as Zach’s face went slightly red and he attempted to deny the accusation. 

“No, no,” Zach stuttered, “No. That’s not what happened, well, not exactly,  it’s just that the particular club I went to was, well, a lot… and like I thought I was kinky but man, they took it to the next level, low key I’m kinda impressed for sure, but also, T-Bone the dude wanted to spit in my mouth and piss over me, like, I just wanted to suck dick, ya know. Like, if I wanted to be humiliated, I’d go home for thanksgiving.”  

Tommy’s protective instincts kicked in instantly. “Are you okay? Did someone touch you-” as his yes scanned over Zach.

“No, no, it’s fine. I, like, just left and came here but woah, I did not realise there was another level of kink. Like, honestly bro, mind blown…” Zach rambled, and personally Tommy would prefer if Zach held his hot chocolate with a bit more care.

After a moment for his brain to catch up, Tommy let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding onto.

“N’aww, were you worried about me?” Zach teased. 

Tommy considered denying it for a moment, but opted for honesty “Yes, I was. Of course I was, I care about you and even if you’re annoying, no one should hurt you.”

Zach slouched over the kitchen table with his hot chocolate, “That’s hot, you got mad lucky Bucky.”

Ignoring the comment, Tommy walked over to the kitchen counter to make himself a drink. “So, why then are you in my kitchen, drinking my hot chocolate?”

“Well, I need advice from, like a wise old Yoda figure, so I came to see Bucky, seeing as he’s like a wiser, older practising bi-sexual.”

“Uh, well, I wouldn’t say old, so much as just a little bit older than you, and uh, technically you’ve been with more guys than me now, so, maybe you should be giving me advice…” Buck replied.

Zach sat up at that, “Oh, sweet as man, what do you wanna know? Like, do you know what to do with your tongue when you’re giving the ol’ sloppy?”

“Evan is perfectly-,” Tommy started, before he bit his tongue hard. “-don’t you worry about that, thank you very much.”

“Ah, cool, cool, cool. Actually, I’m kinda jealous to be honest.” 

Clearing his throat, Tommy tapped the kitchen counter with his fingers because he tolerated a lot, but Zach being jealous of Buck’s blowjobs might cross the line.

Luckily, Buck stepped in, “Uh, jealous? Why?”

“Oh, um, well…” Zach scratched the back of his neck as he bit his bottom lip, “I mean, clearly, I enjoy the game right team, like, look at me, I was made for this… but… ya know, you two have this cute lil domestic thing going on, and it’s, like nice or whatever.”

“Mmm, well it is nice.” Tommy agreed, looking over at his Evan, sitting there at his table, in his house. “Ahh, but I’m sure you’ll find someone who will match your freak…”

He shared a look at Buck, wondering if now was the time to bring up Alex; however, Buck shook his head.

Zach squinted at both of them, “Hold up, kings, whatcha hiding?”

Buck was a terrible liar, so Tommy stepped forward, “Not everything involves you, you know.” he lied convincingly. 

“Ouch, alrighty then.” Zach sulked, “Whatever.”

Tommy sighed, pouring himself a drink. “So. You’re here for moral support after your… enlightening night at the club?”

“And maybe a snack,” Zach admitted. “You’ve got that good cheese in the fridge?”

“You mean the cheese I bought for a charcuterie board tomorrow night?” Tommy said flatly. “The one for the game night with the 217 crew? That cheese?”

Zach leaned back, and smiled innocently. “Guess you’ll just have to get more cheese, king.”

Buck snorted, and Tommy shot him a look that said you are not helping, but all he got was a sly shit eating grin from Buck. With a deep exhale,Tommy finally gave up. “Fine. You can stay for a bit. But I’m putting a strict time limit on this visit.”

“Cool,” Zach grinned, already halfway to the fridge. “I’ll be gone by midnight.” Zach then looked around the kitchen, before he called out to the cat, “Mister Thomas, psp psp, here kitty kitty, Uncle Zach is here.”

**

Lying in bed, with Buck lying across his bare chest as Tommy stroked his curls, Tommy leaned in to murmur into Buck’s hear, “So, Evan, does Zach often hangout with just you.”

Buck chuckled against his chest, his fingers playing with Tommy’s chest hair, “Ahh, you forget, I’m the adventurous one.”

“Are you just, Evan?”

“I am.” Buck confirmed, snuggling into Tommy’s pecs, “I have exciting tales from my days roaming, around all states…” Buck’s finger dragged along his chest, “And down to South America…” Buck’s finger trailed down Tommy’s navel. “I’m just an explorer.”

With a smooth, and frankly, well practiced move, Tommy flipped Buck onto his front and smacked his bare ass, “Mmm, well it sounds like it’s my turn to do some exploring.”

**

Given both Tommy and Buck were firefighters, for different houses, sleep-ins were rare.

Given that they were rare, Tommy was more than a little disappointed when he rolled over and found the space where Buck should be was empty. 

With a grumpy groan, Tommy rolled back over and stared at the ceiling for a moment before getting up, only in a slight huff. 

He found his boyfriend in the kitchen, of course. Apron tied sinfully low on his hips, curls a mess, dusted in flour like he’d lost a fight with a bakery ghost. Tommy made a mental note not to suggest it, the last thing he needed was Buck holding another funeral for a long-dead entity.

No, he just wanted to enjoy the sight. 

“Morning,” Buck said, startled, like Tommy had caught him doing something illicit instead of stirring cookie batter. His cheeks flushed pink. “I, uh… promised Jee I’d make cookies for her play day at kindergarten.”

“Mmm, so we couldn’t have had even a little bit of a sleep in cuddle, Evan?”

Buck ducked his head, whipping the cookie batter, “Uh, well, I have a busy day ahead.”

“Mhmmm,” Tommy stepped forward, “and what exactly are you wearing?”

“Uh, well, m-my apron, of course….”

“Just your apron?”

Buck’s whisk slowed, head ducked, a faint blush on those cute little cheeks of his. “…Maybe,” he admitted coyly.

“Interesting,” Tommy said, closing the distance in two lazy strides. 

“Mmm, no, stay back, I have to get these cookies… Tommy….Tommy…no… down boy” Buck fought a battle he had no intention of winning as Tommy slowly wrapped his arms around him and untied the back of his apron, letting it drop to the floor. 

Tommy would of preferred to wake up to Buck in bed, but a naked Buck on the kitchen floor was pretty good too. 

**

Lying on the kitchen floor, covered in cookie batter and one tired Tommy, Buck sighed contentedly “Well, great, just as well I got the first batch in earlier.”

“First batch?” Tommy perked up.

“Yeah. This was...” Buck looked around the messy kitchen before reaching for his apron, “ Was being the keyword, the second batch. For us.”

Tommy grinned and leaned forward to lick the batter off Buck's navel, up his chest to playfully bite his nipple, “Mhmm, I don’t mind having the cookie this way for a change, just for future reference.”

 “Oh, don’t you?” Buck teased, before shoving him sideways so they both ended up lying shoulder to shoulder on the cool tiles.“I can’t spend all day lying on the kitchen floor.”

“Apologies,” Tommy said, still sprawled across the kitchen tiles like a man entirely too comfortable holding up someone else’s morning routine. “I forgot my Evan was a very busy boy today.”

Buck arched an eyebrow, scooped a streak of cookie batter from his abs with two fingers, and promptly flicked it at Tommy’s cheek.

The older man laughed, swiping it off with the back of his hand. “Mhmm, really?”

“I do have things to do, thank you very much,” Buck shot back, wearing the smug look of someone who’d just scored a point. “First, I need to shower…. alone,” he added pointedly, holding up a finger when Tommy opened his mouth. “Then I’m dropping off these cookies to Maddie, delivering art supplies to Chris at Eddie’s, and heading over to talk to Alex about dinner with your friend, since we didn’t last night.”

‘We? You’re the one who shot me down.”

“Uh, well, it was bad timing. Might have seemed a bit weird, no?”

Tommy tilted his head, smirk tugging at his mouth. “And we’re sure we want to do this?”

Buck shrugged, like he’d been rehearsing the answer in his head. “Alex has been single for ages, and he’s… a bit too serious. Someone like Zach…”

“An idiot?”

“ Your idiot,” Buck corrected smoothly, “but yes, reckless and fun. On the other hand, Alex’s sensible side might, uh,  I don’t know, maybe tone down Zach’s more… Zachness . Maybe make him a little more bearable to be around. Not that I mind him joining us,” Buck added quickly, “it’s just… well… there’s nothing wrong with…”

“Evan, it’s okay,” Tommy cut in, amused. “I understand.”

“He’s not a bad person,” Buck said again, as if that needed to be on record.

“No, not at all.” Tommy’s smirk deepened as Buck went redder in the face. “He’s actually very sweet underneath all the Zachness ”

He dragged one finger slowly down Buck’s flour-dusted abs, making the younger man’s breath hitch, then popped the finger into his mouth with a hum. “Mmm. Although,” Tommy teased, eyes flicking up with a deliberate pause, “not as sweet as my Evan.”

Buck laughed, reached over, and kissed Tommy deeply, before crawling back on top of him on the kitchen floor. 

He had like half an hour before he had to leave…

**

Tommy rolled over for a second time, before poking Evan in the chest, “Evan, we’re being watched.”

Evan looked up to see an annoyed looking orange cat sitting next to an empty food bowl. 

“You feed the spicy one, I have cookies to deal with.”

**

Waiting outside Firehouse 107, in Belvedere Gardens in the East of LA, Buck toyed with his keys in his hands as he leaned against the bonnet of his Jeep. He was here waiting for his friend Alex.

At thirty-four, Alex is only a year older than Buck, and they actually met in training when Buck was still Evan to the masses and not just Tommy. They grew apart, and Alex decided to change career paths and become a paramedic with the LAFD instead of a firefighter.

Which was cool; paramedics were important too. Look at Chim and Hen after all, but personally, for Buck, firefighting was where the action was. 

Then, as things would happen, Buck had crashed into him at the local Supermarket and got chatting, and revealed he was bi. Alex had smiled and welcomed him to the club before explaining that he was gay. 

Then, Alex had been sort of a handy go to for things Buck was too embarrassed to talk to Hen about. It was a little weird, getting relationship advice from someone who was still, happily, single but Alex was mature and wise, and full of weird Swedish sayings. 

And there he was, Alex, in all his six-foot-four Scandinavian good looks, with a sharp jawline, blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. A warm smile spread over Alex’s face as he saw Buck. “Hej,Buck, how are you? It’s been too long since we last saw each other.”

“Alex, good to see you too!” Buck replied with an easy-going grin. “How have things been?”

Alex nodded, then with perfect seriousness declared, “Ah, well, you know what they say my friend, there are no cows on the ice in my life.”

Buck paused, eyebrows drawing together. “…I’m sorry, what?”

“It is a Swedish saying,” Alex explained with a small shrug, as though it was perfectly logical. “No cow on the ice means… no problem. Everything is fine.”

Buck chuckled softly. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“And you, my friend?” Alex’s eyes softened as he looked at Buck.

“Uh… yeah. I’m doing okay, I guess.”

“You’re okay after the death of your captain?” Alex asked gently. “It’s hard, ja? We get so close in this role.”

Buck hesitated, mouth opening before he breathed out a shaky breath, “Yeah, I suppose, but you know, I have Tommy, and Hen, Maddie, Eddie and the rest, they help.”

“Hmm, Vänner är den familj man väljer själv.” Alex said, smiling at Buck’s confusion, “Friends are the family we choose my friend, it is important to have them in our lives, to support us when we need it.”

The two men fell into an easy chat until Alex smiled, and called Buck out... “You are keeping something from me, my friend, I can tell.” 

Caught, Buck ducked his head and smiled, “Uh, y-yeah, yeah, you caught me. I was going to say, you know how you are single?”

“I am?” Alex teased, “Good thing you are here to let me know, or else I might of been shocked when I got home tonight to my apartment, with everything left exactly where I left it.”

Shaking his head, Buck pressed on, “Well, I was wondering if you would be interested in coming on a double date with me and Tommy? Uh, on Saturday.”

“Ah, for that wouldn’t I need a date? And as you so subtly pointed out earlier, I do not.” Alex replied.

“Well, uh, funny enough…” 

“Funny?” Alex repeated, not sounding convinced, nor did the way Buck’s face went red help calm Alex’s suspicions. “No funny business, Buck.”

“O-oh, oh no, no, not at all Alex, no I was just going to say I have a…” Buck thought for a second, “...hmm, a friend, who is also single, and uh, well…”

“I feel that there is a dog buried there.” Alex mused, eyeing Buck suspiciously, before sighing, “it means I think that there is something you are not telling me about this friend, because you are being unusually vague for a man who is very open about everything.” 

“Well, it’s just, he is a little bit younger, but not much, really in the grand scheme of things…”

“How old?”

“Twenty-four, almost twenty-five.”

“Buck, he is almost ten years younger than me.” 

Buck winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, w-well, y-yeah, but he’s smart, sort of… and uh,  he’s got his life together, mostly, and honestly, I think you two would get along. You’ve got that whole calm, reasonable thing going for you, and he… well, he could use some of that.”

Alex crossed his arms, expression somewhere between amusement and mild disbelief. “And by ‘calm and reasonable’ you mean I am patient enough to put up with people who test my sanity, ja?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Buck admitted with a half-smile.

Alex gave a small huff, the kind that wasn’t quite a laugh but close enough. “You do remember, my friend, that I am Scandinavian. We are famous for being slow to anger, yes… but we are also famous for holding a grudge for decades if someone wastes our time.”

“So, is that a no or a yes?” Buck answered as Alex gave him a pointed, disappointed look.

“How do I make this clear, Buck, I am quite content with my life as it is, I do not need a partner to find purpose.” 

“It’s just dinner with a couple of mates, and maybe nothing will happen but maybe, who knows?”

Alex tilted his head, considering him like a chess opponent. “Fine, tell me more about this… younger man before I commit to anything my friend.”

“Uh, well, huh. So, his name is Zach, he works with Tommy as a firefighter. He’s friendly, uh, outgoing..”

“Does he have any hobbies? Does he like hikes and nature? Classical music?” Alex pressed.

“Uh, well, hmm…” 

**

At Harbor station, Tommy snuck up behind Zach, wrapping an arm around his shoulders causing the younger man to startle and look around before bursting into his dopey grin. 

“T-Bone! How’s it hanging ol’ scoundrel?” 

“Scoundrel? Mhmm, that’s a new one.” 

Zach nodded proudly, “Yeah, Cap’ called me it just before and I was like yo, that’s legit fire. Love it, like ‘get out of it ya scoundrel’ or ‘come back here ya scoundrel’ or… or…”

“Alright, I get the picture, but thank you for painting such a vivid image for me.” 

“Ya welcome bro.” 

“Right, Buck and I were talking and we were wondering, if you were interested, if you would like to join us…” Tommy started, not realising the poor choice of wording.

“Oh, wow, okay…” Zach straightened, eyes bright. “… I mean, honestly T-Bone, you’re both, like really hot, like moist panties kinda hot and yes, I have maybe thought about…”

“Jesus, Zach!” Tommy’s voice carried across the bay, and someone at the engine turned to see what the commotion was.

“I’m just saying,” Zach pressed on, utterly unbothered, “have you seen the way Buck picked up that dummy in the first aid course, like just over his shoulder, just woah bro but honestly I kinda feel like it’s better if we don’t…”

“I swear to god- Zach, no. Just no with a capital N” Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was asking if you wanted to come to dinner and meet a friend of Evans.” 

“Wow. Okay. Misread that one by, like, a full football field,” Zach admitted, laughing at himself. “Is the friend hot? Is it a boy or a girl, or non-binary, because ya know, ya boy Zach accepts all holes now.” 

Tommy clipped the back of his head with a sharp thwack .

“Ow!” Zach rubbed the spot, looking genuinely puzzled. “I thought that was sweet, ya know? Like, I don’t care what you identify as, as long as you’re sucking my knob, ya feel…”

He caught Tommy’s deadpan glare mid-sentence and faltered, words stumbling to a stop. “Okay… okay, okay, I can see why that’s… yeah, that’s a little more on the blurry side.”

“His name is Alex, and…”

“Oh! T-Bone, are you legit trying to be my wing man here, because Zach-attack doesn’t need any help bro, like, your boy can get it, let me tell you.” 

Taking a deep breath, and counting to three, Tommy rubbed his temple as he remembered a time when he was a stoic loner, far removed from all this bullshit. 

“Don’t you think it would be nice to meet someone serious?”

“I have.” Zach replied.

That caught Tommy off guard, as he blinked before he could catch himself, and stumbled over his reply, “Oh, you have?”

“Yeah man, you.”

Tommy didn’t know what he had expected, “Me?”

“Yeah, you’re like the most serious person I know. You’re way more serious than Lucy, but also you break the rules far more than she does. You’re like a contraption.” 

Tommy counted to five, “By any chance, did you mean contradiction?” 

With a click of his tongue, Zach pulled up his phone and typed something before breaking into a smirk that Tommy knew he was going to regret. 

“Ah, nah, contraption, meaning something a machine or device that appears strange or unnecessarily complicated, and often badly made or unsafe . Sounds like ya, T-Bone… oh wait!” Zach exclaimed, causing Tommy to jump slightly, “A contradiction contraption…. Oh! Even better, you’re a C.C.C”

“If you explain what a C.C.C is, am I going to smack the back of your head?”

Zach mused on it for a second, before making a tsk noise with his tongue, “Ah… I mean, can I control your reactions? No? That’s on you… but C.C.C stands for Cuddly Contradiction Contraption.”

Tommy’s mouth twitched. “Of course it does, I’m almost impressed with your skills there- almost.”

“See,” Zach explained without prompting, counting on his fingers, “you’re cuddly, obviously. But you’re also both brave and a coward. Smart and stupid. That’s the contradiction part. And then obviously you make your life way too complicated, like, crazy stupid complicated-” He gestured broadly at Tommy. “-which is the contraption bit.”

“That’s not… what contraption means- you know what, don’t engage Tommy, don’t engage.” Tommy told himself before he turned on his heel and walked away.

“Yo, T-Bone, where cha going?” 

**

Tommy attempted to follow up with Zach once he had taken a brisk walk around the base. Now, at this point, Zach was meant to be washing down one of the helicopters; however, Tommy found him chatting with Lucy in the break room instead.

“Yo, T-Bone!” Zach called, grinning and waving him over with a half-eaten granola bar. “Come join us cool kids.”

Lucy snorted into her coffee. “I’m sorry, in what reality are you cool, Anderson… or should I say Howard ?”

Zach leaned back further, hand to his chest in mock offence. “Harsh Donato,”

“Is she wrong?” Tommy asked as he walked over. 

Zach hmmed for a minute, before leaning forward, “Isn’t your friend from the 118 called Howard, not the one you’re fucking, but the other one… not the young dude, Ravi or whatever, the older one… the one who’s banging your boyfriend's sister…”

“Stop talking, and yes, but Howie goes by Chim.” Tommy replied, sitting down next to the other two.

Zach slapped the table loudly, shocking the entire room, grinning triumphantly. “Hah! My point exactly. Let’s stick to Anderson. Oh! Oh! Oh! Or… Zach Attack .” He flexed an arm like he was posing for a bad fitness poster. Tommy had not had enough coffee. 

Lucy rolled her eyes and bit into her sandwich. “Sorry, Mister Howard. I’ll remember in future. Pinky promise.”

“Aren’t you meant to be washing a helicopter?” Tommy reminded Zach.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m totz on it bro, just relax.” Zach replied casually, but made no move. 

“It’s alright, Zach’s already in the Cap’s good books aren’t ya Zachy.” Lucy teased sarcastically as Zach frowned, trying to think back.

“Wait, I thought Cap’ was pissed about something.” and Zach was so close to getting, and yet, the point sailed clear over his head. 

“Ah ha, he was.” Lucy agreed, “I think you missed the point of my comment by a country mile, Zachary.” 

Zach shrugged and looked up at Tommy, “Woman huh? Sometimes there’s no understanding their logic.”

Nope, he was not touching that one with a barge pole, so instead, Tommy dropped into the empty chair beside them, shaking his head. “Anyway, Zach,  getting back to what we were discussing earlier…”

Zach groaned loudly, slumping in his seat like he’d been told to clean the entire station by himself.

“What?” Tommy frowned, momentarily thrown.

“Are you still going on about that?” Zach dragged out the words, like Tommy was a telemarketer who wouldn’t take the hint.

Now at this stage, there was a little bit of miscommunication happening. Tommy was referring to the dinner date idea, and Zach thought he was getting chewed out again, about the rescue jacks being put back in the chopper back to front. 

“Well, sorry, I just thought you would like to cuddle for a change, instead of just hitting it and running.” 

Even if he wasn’t aware enough to know the way he phrased that sentence was wrong, Lucy’s raised eyebrows and Zach’s smirk told him everything as the bell rang.

**

One false alarm later, the helicopter’s skids kissed the tarmac back at Harbor Station. The rotors were still winding down when Tommy hopped out, tugging off his headset and ready to head inside.

He’d barely taken two steps before that unmistakably smug voice cut through the whine of the blades.

“I’m ready for that cuddle, Kinard!”

Tommy froze mid-stride. Of course, Zach wouldn’t drop it.

Zach emerged from behind the fuel truck like he’d been lying in wait all afternoon, hands stuffed in his LAFD work pants pocket, an infuriating smirk plastered on his face. “Although, legit, bro,” he continued, “I have no idea what cuddling has to do with putting the jacks back the wrong way around.”

Ah. Right. Before Tommy had even brought up dinner, he’d chewed Zach out for reinstalling the helicopter jacks backwards. Not the end of the world, but in a real rescue, it could cost them thirty, maybe forty-five seconds, time they might not have.

“Not the jacks,” Tommy corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dinner. With Evan’s friend.”

“Ohhh.” Zach’s face lit up like a bulb finally flicking on. “That makes way more sense. ‘Cause I was sitting here thinking, wow, cuddling as a punishment? That’s wild, even for you, T-Bone. I mean, I was into it, but still, professional behavior at work, team.”

Tommy muttered under his breath, “I’m not sure why I willingly talk to you.”

“Yo, what was that, T-Bone?” Zach cupped a hand to his ear, grinning like he already knew. “Couldn’t hear you over all these helicopters buzzing around.”

“I said,” Tommy growled, “are you in for the double date or not?”

Zach bit his bottom lip like he was genuinely mulling over a UN-level decision. “I mean… I know he’s, like, old…”

Tommy’s eye twitched. “Slightly older.”

“…but is he, like hot? Like if you had to rate him from one to ten… before the beer googles”

Tommy sighed.

“Because dawg, I’ll sleep with a chick, or dude, or non-binary for sure, but they still have to be like a strong seven or more, like I have a rep to maintain my man…hey! Tommy, where are you going?”

Tommy walked towards the break room. 

**

Meanwhile, Buck was still trying to convince Alex.

“He is a little younger than who I normally date.”

“You don’t date,” Buck reminded him, leaning casually against the counter.

Alex narrowed his eyes. “If I were to date, it would not be someone under, say, twenty-seven. Six years younger than me is fine. Ten is a bit extreme. What would we even talk about? Which cartoons he watches on his day off from school?”

“Okay, okay,” Buck said, hands up in surrender. “I see where you’re coming from, and yeah, he’s a little young. But I was twenty-five when I dated Abby, and it was one of the most influential relationships of my life.”

Alex’s brows lifted ever so slightly. “Ah ja, and if I follow your shining example, I will date this young man for two weeks, move him in, then return to Europe and never speak to him again. Then, three years later, I will introduce him to my new husband… preferably at the scene of a catastrophic train crash?”

Buck winced at the honesty. “Uh… no. That’s… n-not at all the lesson you were supposed to take from that story. And, uh, I really regret telling you now.”

“Does he at least have his life together?” Alex asked.

Buck hesitated. “Okay, well… not exactly. But your last two boyfriends did have their lives together, and they both cheated on you. So maybe… maybe you need someone too distracted to cheat on you?”

Alex stared at him for a long, heavy moment. Then, with a put-upon sigh, he said, “Ah ja okey, one dinner. With your man-child, but if he doesn't know how to change his own diaper, then I’m out, my friend.”

“Don’t worry, Zach is fully house trained… at least, uh, I-I’m pretty sure he is…uh, mostly, anyway.”

**

The sun was dipping low, bleeding warm gold across the water as Tommy, Lucy, Buck, and Ravi slowly sipped on nice cold beers on the sand. Waves crashed against the sand, a peaceful soundtrack in the background, reminding Buck of a white noise C.D he tried when he was recovering from his leg.

Then came the sound that could shatter serenity from a mile away, tires screeching.

Lucy didn’t even turn her head. “Well, that’s subtle.”

“Just a moment's peace.” Tommy muttered under his breath as Buck chuckled and Ravi tried to bury a smirk. 

The blue WRX slid to a stop on the roadside above, nose angled like it had just posed for a magazine cover nobody asked for. Zach swung out of the driver’s seat in board shorts and sunglasses, shirt unbuttoned just enough to confirm he’d been waiting for a chance to show off.

“Yo!” he called, striding down like he owned the beach. “T-Bone, Juicy, B- oh man, Rave dawg, you’re here too!”

Ravi tipped his beer up in a greeting as Zach grinned at him. 

“So team, like, what do you think?” He gave the WRX a grand gesture, clearly proud of something. It was still blue, still in one piece as they stood there dumbfounded. 

Tommy barely glanced up. “I’m just surprised it’s still in one piece with the way you drive.”

Zach gasped as if Tommy had kicked a puppy. “N’awww dude, come on,that’s not the vibe!” He slapped the WRX’s roof with affection, like consoling it. “Don’t listen to him, baby, he doesn’t get us, he’s, like, old as fuck.”

“Zach…” Lucy started, her voice dripping faux sympathy. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but… we’ve seen your car before.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, but you haven’t seen this .” He crouched dramatically beside the front wheel, grinning like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of his hat. “Behold… my wicked sick new brake calipers.”

The group leaned in. There was a long, deadbeat pause.

“They’re… lime green,” Buck said slowly, tilting his head for a better view. “Uh, they’re actually kinda cool.”

Zach lit up at the acknowledgement he was looking for, that the brakes were in fact, cool. With a click of his fingers, he pointed at Buck excitedly “Exactly. Not just lime green, my dude, no this is Venom Strike Green. Limited edition wrap. Far out, this, this is why I work.” 

“Hmm, and not, rent? For example?” Tommy asked.

“Rent is boring,” Zach shot back, still admiring his reflection in the wheel. “This is what gets the ladies’ panties wet. And the dudes…” He paused to flash Buck a look. “…the dudes straight-up cumming in their jeans. Tell me you wouldn’t bro, look me in the eyes and tell me.”

“Not gonna lie,” Buck grinned, crouching down for a closer inspection, “I might be feeling things.”

“Rave dawg, you’re impressed aren’t ya boy?” Zach asked.

“Well… I mean, they do look cool,” Ravi admitted. 

“Oh my god,” Lucy muttered, taking a swig of her beer. “You know, sometimes I forget that Buck is closer in age to Zach than he is to you.”

“Take that back Donato,” Tommy growled. 

“I think it’s cute they're bonding,” Lucy smirked. 

Meanwhile, Zach whipped out his phone to show Buck a video of the callipers in slow motion. “Bro, the sunlight hits them just right on camera, see?! Like, that’s hot right, hot damn!”

Buck’s eyes went wide. “That’s… actually cooler than it has any right to be.”

Ravi, watching this exchange with growing confusion, finally blurted, “Okay, when I joined the 118, I thought Buck was this serious, grumpy man, all mature and professional… chasing me around with a saw-”

“-a saw?” Lucy asked.

“-Long story.” Ravi replied, with a big grin, “And now…”

Tommy didn’t even look at him. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, Ravi. Choose your next words wisely.”

Lucy smiled, wrapping an arm around Ravi, “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll protect you… besides, Tommy’s all bark and no bite.”

“Except on Buck’s nipples.” Zach added offhandedly before the group froze and Zach spun on the spot, “Oh, whoa, uh, sorry T-Bone.” 

Ravi sniggered, “This is great.” 

**

After leaving the beach, Zach couldn’t shake the buzzing under his skin. Too much adrenaline, too little direction. He drove aimlessly through the dark, the WRX’s engine a low purr between streetlights, until the neon glow of a corner diner caught his eye.

He could do an iced coffee and fries. 

That’s why he goes to the gym. 

Zach slid into a booth by the window, half-heartedly scrolling his phone before giving up and watching the empty street instead. His iced coffee was already sweating on the table, half gone, the ice clinking when he swirled it without thinking.

He was somewhere between zoning out and wondering if he should text someone when a shadow fell across his table.

“Mr. Howard!”

Zach came back to reality in a daze and looked up, lips quirking into a lazy smirk as he spotted Emilia. “Yo. Howzit hanging, Emilia? But, like, for real Emz, just call me Zach. Or, if you absolutely gotta go formal, Mister Anderson. Mister Howard makes me sound like I’m about to sell you a dodgy as used car.”

Emilia didn’t even ask before sliding into the booth beside him, her perfume subtle but nice. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Why are you so ashamed of your heritage, Mister Zach?”

She gave him the sad grandma eyes that his Nanny, Carmen, was so good at. 

That pulled him up short. He frowned slightly, fingers curling around his iced coffee as if it might anchor him as she continued, unaware.

“Ah, I first noticed, at the graveyard, like your friends, they didn’t know your last name is Howard? Why not? Your family is a good family, hard working, a cornerstone of L.A”

“Why’s it wrong to celebrate my mother instead of my father?” The words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn’t bother to soften them. “Isn’t her history, like, equally mine?” 

Emilia’s brows drew together. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend.” Her tone was careful now, a bit gentler, like she’d just realised she’d stepped onto thin ice.

Zach took a slow sip, partly to buy himself a moment, partly so his hands had something to do other than clench into fists. 

“Ahh, actually my sister, she would be so shocked right now…”

Tilting his head, Zach shot her a confused glance.

“...Ah, she always used to say to me that nothing offended you, like the most easy going baby. Oh, not like those brothers of yours, so highly strung and worked up over every little thing.”

He gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, leaning back in the booth.  “Oh, umm, sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, snap before, at ya. Just must be, ya know, like tried or something.” He gestured at the iced coffee, “Or maybe, like, a little bit hangry, I should have gotten some fries.”

“It’s alright, Mister Zach, I don’t mind. It’s sweet that you think so fondly of your mother… actually,” she continued, her voice lowering, “I was glad to see you here, if the truth was told.”

He blinked at her, mid-swallow. “H-huh?”

“Ah, you know, you tricky boy… “ Emilia explained, leaning in as if someone might overhear.  “I am not stupid, I saw you at the graveyard and told you about Carmen’s life insurance policy and how she wasn’t entitled to any benefits, and then the next day your father contacted us and offered us $750,000. Can you imagine it?” 

Zach set his cup down, the ceramic clinking against the saucer. “Seriously? That’s great, but uh, nothing to do with me. Legit, don’t know anything about it.” 

“I know it was you, Mister Zach.”

“Maybe he just felt bad.”

“Ah, haha, your father,” she said finally, “does not feel bad, ever. He is a businessman. Always has been. Always will be.”

Zach gave her a lazy smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Guess people can surprise you.”

“And you?” she asked, tilting her head. “Do you surprise people?”

He took a slow sip of coffee, letting the straw scrape the bottom. “Who, little old me? Nah, I’m exactly what people see… good looking, fit, and still single at the mo…” he flashed Emilia a wink, who shook her head playfully before getting up.

“Ah, well then, thank you for nothing then I guess, Mister Zach.” She said and then she was gone, leaving Zach alone with his thoughts. At least they had the money, he thought to himself; they deserved it. With the medical bills and then, well, everything else going on. 

The waitress wandered past to drop off a plate of fries at the next booth. The smell hit him, and his stomach growled at an annoyingly loud volume. He glanced up at her, confused.

“Oh, honey, some little old biddy thought you might be a bit less defensive if you ate something; she paid for these on the way out. She also said to say she ‘knew it was you’ but I’m not paid enough to care, although she tipped well, so I pass it on.” 

“I’m not defensive,” Zach shot back, then immediately regretted how defensive that sounded. “Like, legit I’m not.” 

She laughed softly, not unkindly. “If you say so.”

**

Driving around, Zach cocked his head as he drove past a McDonald's drive-through, the sign hanging off slightly from where someone had driven into it earlier.

Huh, he knew what would make him feel better as he eyed the yellow ‘M’ dangling in front of him.

**

“You know what’s way bigger than you’d think?” Zach asked from Tommy’s doorstep, wearing that suspiciously smug grin that always made Tommy’s blood pressure spike.

At Tommy’s suspicious glance, Zach’s grin morphed into a smirk as he held up a finger, “Firstly, that’s what she said my man…”

“Secondly,” Zach announced proudly before he darted off the porch, disappearing into the shrubbery like some deranged raccoon. There was a rustle, a muffled grunt, and then he emerged, beaming, holding something so absurd Tommy actually blinked twice and rub his eyes to believe.

It was a giant, plastic, bright yellow ‘M’.

“the real answer is… the McDonald’s M!... this shit is much bigger than you realise, like it almost takes up a whole me.”

Tommy stared at him for a long, slow moment, taking in the sight before wondering if it was possible he was dreaming. He pinched himself, no, Zach was on his door step holding what he assumed was a stolen ‘M’. “…What are you doing with, actually, you know what? No. I don’t want to know. Whatever it is, make it disappear.”

“N’awww, c’mon! This would legit look wicked on your wall bro, just picture it.” Zach said, shifting his grip as the oversized letter wobbled dangerously close to the porch railing.

“Zach…”

“Awww, come on bro, at least think about it, T-Bone. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeassse.” Zach begged shamelessly, not that it would work for a moment. 

Taking a second to pretend to think it over, Tommy gave him a pointed look. “Um,no. Go.”

“T-Bone….”

 “And take your stupid yellow sign with you before my neighbors start asking questions.”

“Fine,” Zach muttered, hauling the giant M back to his car, “but just remember… you could’ve been the coolest house on the block.”

Tommy rubbed his temple as he turned back into the house. “Are we really going to convince Alex that Zach is mature?”

“Uh, more to the point, are we going to be able to make Zach believe Alex is exciting?”

“Are you saying Alex wouldn’t steal the McDonalds ‘M’?”

**

Knocking on Zach’s apartment door, Tommy waited just long enough to wonder if Zach had forgotten before it swung open to reveal Cassidy.

“Hi, Cassidy,” Tommy greeted.

“Oh man, how’s it hanging, Tom?” Cassidy grinned, pulling him into a one-armed hug that was a tad too familiar for their situation but Tommy let it slide. 

 “Zach’s just finishing up, come in, come in, take a seat and chill for a sec.”

Now, when did Tommy last have his rabies shot? 

Tommy stepped inside and scanned the living room. It looked exactly as he expected: an explosion of laundry, takeout boxes that may or may not still contain food, and a suspicious sticky patch on the coffee table he wisely avoided. He lowered himself onto the couch, flicking a lone sock off the cushion with two fingers like it might be contagious.

And there it was, stashed next to two road cones and a stop sign, the giant yellow ‘M’ from the other night. 

A couple of minutes later, Zach appeared from the hallway, all crisp white shirt, perfectly knotted dark blue tie, and black dress pants that actually fit. His hair was styled, his face freshly shaved, and for one surreal moment, Tommy wondered if he’d walked into the wrong apartment.

He was so impressed that he forgot to make his snide comment about the McDonalds ‘M’

“Wow,” Tommy said before he could stop himself. “You actually know how to dress.”

Zach clutched his chest in mock offence. “Okay, that’s rude. This is my ‘I’m a responsible, mature adult who Alex will totally wanna climb like a tree’ look. Which is just as well, because I’m not wearing any undies.”

“Zach,” Tommy groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“What? I’m being legit serious, bro. They’re all in the wash. I did consider re-wearing a cleanish pair, but then I thought, huh? what if there’s, you know… back-of-the-car fun? That could get awkward real fast.”

“Jesus,” Tommy muttered.

“I’m only thinking of you, dude. I don’t want Buck’s friend thinking less of you.”

Cassidy, still in the armchair with his beer, nodded solemnly. “That’s solid, bro. First impressions matter.”

Tommy looked between them, equal parts horrified and resigned. “Right. Well. I guess we’re going now before you have more time to… talk.”

Zach grinned, smoothing down his tie. “Relax, T-Bone. I’ve got this. By the end of tonight, Alex is gonna think I’m a gentleman.”

Cassidy, sprawled in an armchair with a beer, nodded solemnly. “Man’s been in front of the mirror for twenty minutes practising his ‘serious face.’”

“Hey hey hey, It’s not a serious face,” Zach shot back, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s a smoulder . There’s a difference. Smoulder says, ‘I’m mysterious.’ Serious face says, ‘I’m about to lecture you on taxes, and spoiler alert, I know nothing about taxes...’” Zach then frowned, playing with his tie, “... real talk, why does the government expect me, me? Of all people to work how much I owe, when they legit already know and then if I get it wrong, they send me straight to jail… like, I’m too pretty for jail.”

“You’d be popular, mate, for sure,” Cassidy said cheerfully. “Your little kitty cat would be run through.”

“Meow meow meow,” Zach purred without missing a beat.

Tommy closed his eyes, already regretting his life choices. ‘Are you ready?”

‘For what?” 

“For your dinner, dickhead.” Cassidy answered.

“Oh, yeah man, I’m ready to charm him with my wit, my smile, and my mysterious allure” Zach interrupted, eyes sparkling. “I’m like catnip.” 

Cassidy raised his beer in a mock toast. “Godspeed, Tom.”

**

After one long wait for the elevator, and then one short ride to the ground floor, Tommy and Zach stepped out into the fresh air.

“We can take Rexie if you like,” Zach offered, patting the keys in his pocket. “She hasn’t been driven for like a criminally long time now.”

“Didn’t you drive home?”

“Oh no man, that didn’t count; the commute bores her,” Zach answered seriously. “She was, like, designed to enjoy life, ya know, not nose to tail crawling through gridlock. She yearns for more from life.”

“Mhmm, inspiring, thanks, but no, tonight is about first impressions.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I be myself?” Zach asked, “Wearing this suit, turning up in your boring ass truck… It’s not me, is it?”

“No inappropriate comments, or jokes, or stories, just polite small talk.” Tommy added, “Get in the truck.”

Zach stopped in his tracks. “Define ‘inappropriate .’”

Tommy gave him a look. “If you have to ask, it’s probably inappropriate.”

“Okay that is probably legit fair, but what if Alex asks me about my hobbies?”

Tommy pressed the button with his keyring. “Mmm, and are all your hobbies inappropriate? There’s not one that is dinner suitable?”

“Well, I don’t normally go to, like, a restaurant, ya know, I prefer to dine with a King, my man, or…”

“Let me guess, Kebabs?”

“Kebabs for the win!” Zach agreed, “Honestly, they have everything you ever need, all wrapped up and ready to be demolished boy.” 

“Mhm, right, so dinner appropriate hobbies?”  

“Well, I guess, I mean, like, they’re pretty basic to be honest, simple things like sex, cars and drinking, to be honest. Oh, and gym, of course, gotta work on these bad boys”

Tommy froze mid-step and gave him a slow, deliberate stare. “And that is why you’re sticking to polite small talk.”

Zach smirked. “So… bowling, then? Can’t say gardening, although I do love a nice, trimmed bush for sure.”

“Hmm, yes, stick with bowling,” Tommy said, opening the truck door, “and if Alex presses for details, tell him you’re in a league. Do not tell them the league meets in a strip club.”

Zach climbed in with a grin. “But that’s the best part; beer, balls and boobs, T-Bone, the three ‘B’s every man needs.”

**

Alex was already there. Six-four of blonde Scandinavian calm, sitting straight-backed with a beer in hand. He looked up as they approached, smile faint but polite as he gave a small wave to the group. 

“Alex!” Buck greeted warmly, clapping him on the shoulder as he slid into the booth beside Tommy. “Glad you made it.”

“I said I would, my friend,” Alex said smoothly, his accent faint but noticeable. Then his eyes shifted to Zach, taking him in from head to toe in one sharp glance that felt like an x-ray. “And this must be… the guy you are attempting to set me up with. How… charming.”

Zach froze for a second, then broke into a grin. “Yo, I prefer Zach, but for sure, charming works too.” He slid into the booth across from Alex, leaning back like he owned it. “Damn, Buck didn’t say his friend was Thor’s hot cousin.”

“Thor? You are aware of Norse mythology, then?” Alex asked, slightly surprised. 

“Norse what?” Zach asked, shuffling over so Tommy could sit down. “Nah, dawg, I’m talking about the MCU, man. Thor. You know, Chris Hemsworth, blonde, smoking hot, Australian, big hammer… if ya know what I mean.”

Alex’s lips curved into something dangerously close to a smirk. “Ah. Of course. Why discuss centuries of mythology, its impact on culture, and its poetic sagas… when we could discuss…the beauty of modern Marvel movies.”

Zach leaned in, all confidence. “Well, I mean, the MCU’s had a pretty big impact on the world, soooo…”

Before Alex could answer, Buck jumped in, voice a little too bright. “Uh, well, a-anyway, I hear the steak here is amazing, right Tommy?”

“Aren’t you vegan?” Alex asked, cutting his gaze toward him with surgical precision.

“Well, uh, yes, but still-”

“So why would you care if the steak is amazing?” Alex pressed as Buck stumbled through his reply. 

Tommy closed his eyes. Zach clapped his hands once, delighted. “Yo, this is great, man! Hey, waiter, can we get some drinks over here asap, bud! Cheers.”

**

With a faint smile, Alex swirled his glass of red wine, the stem balanced perfectly between long fingers. “So, tell me, Zach,” he said, voice smooth and deliberate, “what do you do for fun?”

Tommy held his breath for a moment.

“Well, sometimes I go bowling,” Zach replied with a smirk aimed at Tommy. “Or maybe golf if I want some peace and quiet, Tommy knows a nice little golf club down the road actually…”

Tommey let his breath go. 

“Golf?” Alex replied with a curious glance, “You do not strike me as the sort of person to go golfing.” 

“What can I say, I enjoy playing with balls, especially other people's balls.” Zach answered smugly, and Tommy tried to mask his deep sigh. 

“Right.” Alex answered before he leaned into Buck, “Is that a joke?”

**

The waiter reappeared, all cheerful professionalism, breaking the silence that had been threatening to suffocate the table. “How are we doing, guys? Have we decided what we’re all having tonight?”

Tommy smiled up at him politely, “Mhmm, I’ll have the steak, medium, please, ah with the mushroom sauce, seasonal vegetables on the side. Thank you.”

“And I’ll have the vegetarian lasagna, thanks” Buck added quickly, relief in his voice at the chance to move the night along. “It sounds amazing.”

“Ah yes, Sir, good choice.” The waiter agreed. 

Alex folded his menu and set it down. “Yes. I will take the grilled salmon, please. And-” he gestured to the wine list “-whatever wine pairs best with it. I trust your sommelier judgement, I can tell by this list they are of the highest standard”

“You won’t be disappointed Sir,” The waiter replied as he jotted down Alex’s order, “I think you will be delighted by her choice,”

“Ah, I look forward to it indeed.” Alex replied. 

Zach, meanwhile, leaned forward like he was about to drop the hottest order of 2025. “Yo, bro, hit me with your double beef burger, extra bacon, extra gerkins, ya feel me, none of that weak single-gerkin life. And chuck another beer on that, too, my man, ‘cause god knows I’m gonna need it to survive this table.” He winked, handing his menu over with a flourish. “Cheers, bro.”

The waiter hesitated for just a beat too long before murmuring, “Of course, sir,” before looking at the other orders on his list and then back at the table.

“Relax, mate, people only call me Sir in the bedroom,” and then he winked at Alex. 

At the waiter’s stunned look, Zach grinned, “Kidding, of course.”

The waiter nodded politely, before disappearing back to the kitchen. 

Zach leaned back, smug, until Tommy’s boot connected lightly with his shin under the table.

“Whoa, Daddy-T,” Zach said immediately, grinning as he sat up straighter, “no footsies at the dinner table, please. 

**

Zach stretched lazily in his chair, cracking his knuckles like he’d just thought of something profound. Then, with no warning, he broke the comfortable silence. “So, Alex, you’re from Sweden, right?”

Alex inclined his head politely. “You are correct. Do you know of Sweden?”

Tomm cocked his head, and spared a glance at Buck, technically speaking, there was nothing that said Zach wouldn’t know about Sweden. He had at least traveled around South America and South East Asia. 

He might just surprise them all.

Or…

Zach laughed, leaning forward with the enthusiasm of a man who definitely did not know. “Of course, bro. I’d totz live in Sweden. All those mountains, y’know? Skiing, yodelling, those lil’ pocket knives with, like, scissors and shit inside, like a Russian doll for men, super sick.”

Tommy took that thought back, Zach did not surprise him. 

Alex froze mid-sip of wine, lowering his glass with painstaking slowness, taking a deep, calming breath. “Pardon… what did you just say?”

“Sweden, bro!” Zach repeated, grinned. “They’ve got the Alps, right? And fancy lil’ chocolates? And those, like, watches that cost more than a car? Big ol’ red flag with the white cross?”

Buck buried his face in his hand. Tommy groaned, “Oh no. Save me.”

Alex stared at Zach, aghast, as though the man had just spat on the Mona Lisa. “ Mon dieu . That is Switzerland ! Switzerland has the Alps, the chocolate, the knives, the watches, and the flag with the cross. Sweden has IKEA, ABBA, and… and… how do you Americans put it? Ah, yes. Meatballs. The world-famous meatballs.”

Zach brightened. “Like Subway?” he supplied cheerfully.

“What?” Alex asked, shell-shocked, already rubbing his temple.

“A meatball sub, dude. From Subway. Those things are like brutal, delicious as fuck but brutal. Legit, you’re actually better off having a Big Mac at McDonald’s than a meatball sub. Like, less sodium or some shit.”

“ Zaacchh ,” Tommy groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Alex set his fork down with exquisite precision, exhaled through his nose, and muttered something rapid and scathing in Swedish that Zach, thankfully, did not understand.

“See?” Zach said, smugly pointing. “He agrees with me.”

**

Thankfully, the meals arrived relatively quickly, only enduring them to the briefiest period of small talk.

The waiter set down each plate with a flourish onto the table, his attention to detail allowing him to remember who had ordered what without checking. 

Alex admired the artistry of his grilled salmon, delicate and glistening with citrus glaze. Tommy’s steak was covered in a beautiful mushroom sauce, lying on top of a selection of vegetables, Buck’s vegetarian lasagna layered and elegant. 

And then there was Zach’s… burger. A mountain of brioche, bacon, and sauce spilling defiantly onto the pristine white plate.

Alex looked away, then adjusted the napkin across his lap with the sort of polite composure only years in Europe could instill.

“So many options on the menu,” he remarked, his tone just this side of wistful, “and yet… you opted for the burger?”

Zach, already reaching for a fry (with his fingers Alex noted), looked up with a grin “Apparently so.”

Alex’s lips pursed ever so slightly, as though Zach had committed a minor cultural crime in front of him. “We are in a fine dining establishment, Zachary. The chef is known for his steak, his duck, his-” Alex gestured broadly at Buck’s plate, “-even his vegetarian creations. And you… order what one might find at an American sports bar?”

Zach shrugged, unapologetic, a smear of sauce already on his thumb. “Yeah, but it’s, like, a really fancy burger. See? Comes with the little toothpick thing and everything bro.” He held it up proudly, causing the burger to fall apart. 

Alex exhaled through his nose, the smallest shake of his head betraying his disappointment. Buck shot him a warning glance saying don’t you start but Alex only felt the faintest twinge of guilt before Zach, grinning like he’d just won something, glanced up at him with that insufferably smug smirk.

“Unless you’ve got something else you wanna put in my mouth?” Zach fired back, waggling his eyebrows.

Tommy groaned into his napkin. Buck barked out a laugh before smothering it with a cough, but Alex stared Zach down.

“Actually, my friend, I do.”

Success. That wiped the smirk clean off Zach’s face. He blinked, caught off guard, as Alex selected a fresh fork with all the gravity of a knight choosing a weapon. With a swift, precise motion, he carved a piece from his salmon and held it out across the table.

“Try this,” Alex said, his voice calm.

Zach eyed the fork suspiciously, then grinned again, leaning forward to take a bite. “Careful, bro. You feed me once, you might never get rid of me.”

“That’s where I went wrong.” Tommy muttered under his breath. 

Alex rolled his eyes, “As we say back home, i t's a choice between plague or cholera”

**

With an overly dramatic sigh, Zach flopped further down into his chair, grabbed a handful of pretzels and began smashing them back obnoxiously, his eyes glazed over in boredom. 

“Not gonna lie, team,” he said mid-chew, spraying crumbs, “art is, like, objectively boring. Just a bunch of poncy old farts painting sad fruit and naked angels 'cause they think they’re smarter than everyone else.” He paused sadly, “Bro, they literally made porn boring.” and then he sighed deeply.

Tommy shared a long look with Buck.

Meanwhile, across the table, Alex stiffened like someone had insulted his mother, which, to be fair, wasn’t far off from how he felt about Renaissance art. He set down his wine glass delicately, because he was raised right, and turned to look at the younger man who slouched over the table like someone with no manners, slowly. 

“As it so happens, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel is one of the most breathtaking achievements in human history.”

Zach perked up, brows lifting in genuine interest. “Legit, you really think so? Wow, I didn’t picture you being the sort of man who would enjoy that sort of art, let alone think it was good.”

You could hear a pin drop. 

Stunned into momentary silence by the sheer audacity, Alex just stared blankly at him, mouth slightly agape. Around the table, Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, and Buck took a sip of his water.

Zach, oblivious as ever, reached for another pretzel. “Hey dude, this is a hashtag judge-free zone here, my man, so like, were you into the comics, the TV show or the movie? Like, you’re what Buck’s age? So, probably the comics, right?”

Daring to break the silence, Tommy cleared his throat, trying valiantly to redirect the trainwreck despite this being Buck’s fault. “Zach, buddy… wanna catch us up on what you think we’re talking about?”

Looking more than a tad confused, Zach slid upright, “Uh, duh, Michelangelo…. Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael? The Teenage Mutant Turtles? Honestly, you brought it up, I dunno why you’re all acting confused, like did they forget their memory pills,  Buck?”

Looking up from his water, Buck put one hand up, “Woah, easy now, don’t drag me into this, Zach.”

“I see,” Alex said finally, voice flat, “Can I suggest a trip to Rome?”

“Bro, no need to waste money on air tickets, I have a leaning tower you can see for free here,” Zach replied with a dangerously infectious grin as Alex wondered for the hundredth time how someone with such a punchable attitude could have such good cheekbones.

Readjusting slightly in his seat, Alex tapped his fingers on the table. 

**

With a long, put-upon sigh, Alex turned his wine glass in his hand and fixed Zach with a steady look.  “Have you heard the saying, always say less than necessary, my friend?”

Zach tilted his head, chewing on a fry. “Huh. Sounds like something someone with nothing to say would say.”

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, as though summoning the patience of generations. “Hmm. It is better, my friend, to keep quiet and let people think you are stupid… rather than open your mouth and prove it.”

Zach’s grin only widened, unfazed. He leaned back in his chair, lazy and smug, eyes sparkling with mischief. “N’awww, don’t worry, handsome, you’re hot enough that no one would care if you’re stupid.”

Alex blinked once, very slowly, staring at the younger man across from him. Across the table, Tommy groaned, Buck snorted into his drink, and Zach just sat there, looking unbearably pleased with himself.

“Remarkable,” Alex said dryly, setting down his glass. “You manage to insult me, flatter me, and embarrass yourself in the same breath.”

“Yolo, bro, never waste a breath.”

**

While waiting for dessert to come, Alex looked at Buck, “Ah, Buck,” he said with that lilting Scandinavian accent of his, “we must do another run up to the Griffith Observatory, ja?”

“Ah, yeah man sure, it was fun.”

“Indeed,” Alex agreed smoothly, with a friendly smile. “A little crowded, ja, but the views were… how do you Americans say it… beautiful?”

“Uh, yes. Yes, very, um, beautiful, even spectacular, you might even say.”

Alex’s face tightened just a fraction. “Spectacular is perhaps too much, Buck. Beautiful is more fitting. Though it did make for quite popular posts on my Instagram account. People adore the beauty of nature.”

“Wait, you have an insta?” Zach asked, suddenly paying attention, “An insta that people, like, follow? For real?”

Alex gave a modest shrug and handed over his phone. Zach squinted at the feed, scrolling through endless landscapes. “Dude, it’s just, like, trees and mountains and motivational quotes, like, ‘Bat-ter… batter… in fag gel in hand-’”

“Bättre en fågel i handen än tio i skogen,” Alex corrected, a faint growl under the calm. “It means, ‘Better a bird in the hand than ten in the forest.’”

Zach snorted. “Bro, why would you even want a bird in your hand? That’s just weird, like, come on.”

“Mmm, it is a saying,” Tommy replied, voice clipped. “It means appreciating a small certainty.”

Alex, unimpressed, turned the conversation back. “Regardless. You clearly have an Instagram as well.”

Zach grinned, and tossed his phone over to Alex, it barely missed the water pitcher on the table. “For sure, dawg. Check this out.”

Alex scrolled for barely three seconds before raising an elegant brow. “Ah. It is a shame they do not appear to pay you enough.”

Zach cocked his head, before he clicked his tongue. “Sorry, what are you on about, bro?”

“You do not appear to own any shirts.”

Buck’s ears went pink as he tried to wave it off. “O-okay, wow, that’s, um, that’s just, y’know, his brand, uh, his thing.”

“Brand? I was not aware you were a company, how interesting.” Alex teased. “And shirtless videos on your insta is essential to your brand?” 

“Yeah man, for sure, ” Zach smirked, puffing up. “People love it. Pure vibes, baby. Hashtag Your welcome.”

“More like pure thirst trap attention seeking,” Tommy muttered dryly, reaching for his water. “But hey, whatever keeps you occupied and not talking for five minutes.”

“Hey, rude.”

**

Zach poked half-heartedly at his dessert with his spoon, then glanced across the table.
“So, A-man, what kinda wheels you rollin’?”

Alex set down his wine glass, posture straight as ever. “A 2023 Volvo S90. Plug-in hybrid. Very safe, very efficient, and comfortable for long drives.”

Zach rolled his eyes at him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Oh, right, of course, coulda guessed.”

Alex’s brow lifted, cool amusement flickering across his face as he stared across the table. “Oh? What does oh mean?”

“Just…” Zach leaned back in his chair, smirk tugging at his mouth. “It’s just kinda, what I expected.” 

With a smirk, Alex sat forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with sudden interest. “Ah, okej and what do you drive then, since you have such high standards?”

“A real car,” Zach shot back, grinning. “One that doesn’t need to be tucked in and plugged into the wall every night. A 2017 Subbie WRX STI. Pure raw power, baby. Turbocharged, naturally. She purrs like a tiger and goes like a cheetah.”

“Mm.” Alex tilted his head, unbothered. “The car matches the boy.”

“Unlike yours, I guess.” Zach stabbed his spoon into his dessert, leaning in with mock-seriousness.

“Hmm?”

“Well, I just mean” Zach grinned wickedly, “like you’re not exactly an accountant named Bob with three kids and a failing marriage. So what’s up with the family sedan, huh?”

Alex chuckled under his breath, swirling his wine. “Ah, well perhaps I prefer to drive something that arrives at its destination intact, rather than limping into a garage once a month.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re not limping after, are you doing it right king?” 

**

Small talk lingered on for a free minutes after the Waiter came and politely cleared their plates, before Tommy explained that he and Zach had a shift tomorrow morning and they had to go. 

With a handshake from Tommy, and a mock-salute from Zach, Alex and Buck were left alone at the table. 

Alex slapped a hand on Buck’s back, “I do appreciate your efforts to… brighten my love life, Buck. But I assure you, I am neither in need of a toy boy, nor inclined to play the role of sugar daddy.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Alex…” Buck started.

“Ah, no, no need to say sorry. I enjoyed the experience, and if I was, say, eight years younger and did not have a mortgage, or, ah, standards…”

“Now, now, he’s not-”

“For me, but that’s alright. I wish him all the best on his journey.” Alex replied with a smile, “See you around Buck, hopefully sooner rather than later old friend.” 

**

The next day, at work, Tommy walked up to Zach, who was annoying Lucy with some tale.

“Morning Zach.”

“Yo, what up T-Bone?” Zach replied, before he gave Tommy a fist pump, apparently just for existing.

“I just wanted to say, about last night…” Tommy started.

“Oh, bro, it’s all good. Buck’s mate is hot, like, I would deff have done him in the bathroom, or let him have a go on me…” he turned to Lucy, and pointed at himself with a grin, “Verse king, my lady, I’m just happy to be of service.”

With a shake of her head, Lucy stood up, “Everything, and I mean everything that I know about you Anderson is against my will, remember that.” and with that she walked away, possibly to bleach her mind. 

Zach shrugged the comment off, “Anyway T-Bone, it’s all good. He’s just a tad too stuffy and serial allllllll the time,ya know, like, relax man. But legit, love your wing man attempt,”

Tommy stared at the younger man, who was fidgeting with his jacket zipper, before remembering a time when he used to go to work, go home, and once a week play basketball. This was his fault, indirectly, for becoming friends with Eddie Diaz, and meeting Evan, which in turn, turned his whole world upside down. 

Then the Harbor station bell rang, signalling a hillside fire. 

**

In the remote hilly area of LA, the 217 truck pulled up to put out a small scrub fire.

LAPD was already on site, blocking traffic and keeping an eye on the situation. 

“Segerant Grant,” Tommy greeted, “What are we looking at here?”, already clocked the churned-up tire tracks leading into the brush. He didn’t have to be a genius to put two and two together in this dry weather. 

Athena gave a tight shake of her head, one hand resting on her hip as she replied. “Dumbasses doing donuts. Looks like a spark kicked off the fire. They did at least have the good sense to ring it in before they bailed.”

Athena raised one hand to her sunglasses as she looked over the scene, “Idiots, reckless idiots, who does burn outs when it’s so dry up here?”

“Dumb ass idiots.” Tommy agreed, before turning around to call out to the others.

As Tommy was getting up to speed with Athena, Zach jumped out of the truck, doing a quick stretch of his shoulders before something caught his eye, just a hint of white against the scorched dirt. Curiosity, naturally, won out, so he jogged over and bent to pick it up off the ground. 

It was a driver’s license, scuffed at the edges but still perfectly legible, belonging to one ‘Kevin Johnson Tyler. ‘

Uh, he was alright looking. Same age as Zach as well. 

Well, just because his license was at the scene of the crime was no proof that he was involved, so Zach pocketed the license and went to help Lucy grab the fire hose. 

**

Zach told himself it was his sworn firefighter’s civic duty to return the license to its rightful owner (ignore all the morally grey bullshit about the fire, there was no way to prove Kevin was there when it happened anyway)

And if the rightful owner happened to be handsome? Well… that was just a happy accident. Accidents happened all the time, Zach’s job was based on responding to accidents. 

Not that it mattered anyway, right? Like the dude was probably straight. He looked straight. 

He rolled up outside the address, Rexie’s turbo still whistling softly as he killed the engine. The place looked like a car magazine spread, or Zach’s wet dream, full of high performance cars with polished paintwork gleaming in the sun, exhaust tips glinting, and a smell of fresh rubber hanging in the air. 

Was this heaven? 

Three other guys loitered near the garage, leaning against fenders as they watched Zach climb out.

He had made it halfway across the street when a voice barked,  “Oi, who are you?”

The guy looked like Kevin,  at least from the small photo on the I.D, and he looked even better in person. He was tall, with dark hair under a backwards cap, and Ray-ban sunglasses. His friends straightened just enough to watch without looking like they were watching.

“Yo bro, you Kevin?” Zach called.

“Depends who’s asking and why,” Kevin replied, pushing his hands into his hoodie pocket like he wasn’t already sizing Zach up.

“Relax, dawg, calm yo farm. I’m Zach, umm, I’m with the  L.A.F.D. Found your license up in the hills when we were putting out a fire.”

Kevin tilted his head, a smirk starting to form. “You can’t prove anything, so don’t even try.”

Well, to be fair, if the police had the resources to investigate properly they probably could, but Zach wasn’ overly worried right now. The fire was out and no one was hurt. 

“Woah, chill bro, I’m not with the coppers, and I’m, like off duty, I just thought I’d drop it off for ya, no biggie.”

Kevin’s mates muttered between themselves, one of them, a lanky guy in a white singlet saying just loud enough for Zach to hear, “Bet he wants a thank-you kiss.” The group snickered.

“No biggie?” Kevin echoed, still watching him.

“Yeah, man. Legit just returning your license, promise.” Zach handed it over.

Kevin flipped it once in his hand, then looked back up. “Thank you Mister L.A.F.D, I’ll buy your next calendar as a thank you.” 

Zach made finger guns, “Mister July in the flesh.” 

“Well, it’s just a shame your car’s not as nice as your haircut, but hey, we can’t have it all can we?”

If glares could kill, Zach should have dabbed Kevin into Athena. Rexie was a 2017 Subaru WRX STI All-Wheel-Drive, 305 horsepower, turbocharged weapon. She was fast, she handled well in all conditions and she looked fucking great. 

“Excuse me? No one talks about Rexie like that.” Zach replied, offended as he glanced back at his baby. 

Kevin grinned lazily.“Pfft, a WRX, how impressive.”

“ STI .”

“You can see a doctor about that.” Kevin tipped his head toward Rexie. “What’s she do? Probably around zero to sixty in five seconds?”

“Four-point-six, actually bro ” Zach shot back, folding his arms across his chest in a huff. How dare this stranger insult Rexie. 

“Oh, sorry, my apologies, four-point-six, did ya hear that boys,” Kevin said over his shoulder. His mates gave mock applause. Kevin strolled over to his bright red 2019 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat Redeye sitting in the driveway like a caged predator, running his hand along the hood. “This baby? Eight hundred horsepower. Zero to sixty in three seconds. Top speed? Two-oh-three. She’ll eat your little toy alive and still have room for dessert.”

“Impressive,” Zach said, strolling up beside him, “for people who only know how to drive in a straight line.” He jerked his chin toward the Hellcat’s fat rear tires. “Ever heard of traction, bro? Or is that a foreign concept?”

Kevin’s friends gave a collective “ooh,” leaning forward like they were watching a street fight about to start.

Kevin smirked. “Touchy. Sorry if my all-American muscle hurts your ego.”

Zach’s mouth twitched into a smirk of his own. “Nah, I just like cars that can corner without needing, oh I dunno, the entire road and a prayer.” He cocked his head with a slight shrug, “There’s just something about staying on the road that I like, call me ol’ fashioned.”

Kevin gave him a slow once-over, eyes catching for half a second longer than necessary. “I’d say we could settle this at the lookout, but I don’t feel like waiting half an hour for you to catch up.” He winked, slid into the Hellcat, and brought it to life with a growl that rattled the pavement and sent one of his mates into a full-body grin.

The Hellcat did sound impressive, Zach would give him that. 

And then it was gone.

Zach watched the taillights shrink, Rexie’s reflection flickering in the Hellcat’s paint before it disappeared around the corner.

“No point trying.” One of his mates said, “You’ll never catch him.” 

Huh. Let's see about that Zach thought to himself as he jumped in Rexie. 

**

Now, on the straight streets of L.A, they were right, Rexie couldn’t keep up with the Hellcat in the least, but as they headed up into the hilly, windy roads heading up to the lookout was where the tables turned. 

The two cars pulled in at the same time, gravel crunching and dust kicking up around them. The bright red Hellcat slid sideways just a little, tires spitting loose rock as Kevin killed the engine. 

The car was still ticking hot when Kevin practically sprang out, sunglasses pushed up with one cocky hand, his smirk came easy, as he glanced over at the Subaru.

Zach, on the other hand, didn’t rush. Instead, he sat in Rexie for a moment, hand drumming against the wheel, then slowly opened the door and climbed out casually, just stretching his arms overhead and rolling his shoulders. 

He shut the door with an easy click, then leaned back against Rexie’s bonnet, smirk settling onto his face. “Next time I’ll give you more of a head start, keep it fair.”

“Well, well, well, what do you know, the firefighter can actually drive,” he said, lips curling into a smirk. “Color me impressed, pretty boy.”

Zach leaned against Rexie’s bonnet, smirking right back. “And you managed to keep all four wheels on the road. Not bad for a Hellcat.”

Kevin chuckled low as he stalked over to Zach. “Aww, now that’s cute…. still, your little rally toy spent the straights eating my dust.”

“Ha, and tell me, did we or did we not pull up at the same time?” Zach shot back. “Corners must be your kryptonite.” 

Kevin’s mouth quirked. “God made corners so you could keep up with me, not all of us are afraid to open the throttle.”

“Throttle’s for people who can’t keep their pants on,” Zach said, arms folding. “I’d rather have control.”

“Oh yeah?” Kevin stepped closer, grin lazy but eyes sharp. “Control’s overrated. Sometimes you just need raw power… have you ever lost control?”

Zach’s smirk deepened, his voice dipping just enough to blur the line between banter and something else entirely. “Nah man, I’m the reason people lose control...”

Kevin’s laugh was a little lower this time, leaning just on the edge of challenge. “Careful, firefighter. Keep talking like that and I might have to prove you wrong.”

Zach tilted his head, expression all faux innocence. “Careful, Hellcat. Keep talking like that and I might let you try.” His gaze made an unhurried sweep from Kevin’s backwards cap, down over the line of his hoodie and jeans, lingering just enough before meeting his eyes again.

“Now, now firefighter - that’s awfully bold of you to assume, now isn’t it?” Kevin said, stepping in closer, tightening the air between them until there was barely a breath of space left.

“Not at all bro,” Zach replied smoothly. “I can read you like a book… From your overcompensating car, to the way you checked me out earlier…”

Kevin scoffed, but there was the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Legit, no judgment here,” Zach continued with a grin. “I see myself in the mirror every morning. You’ve got good taste man.”

Kevin let his gaze drag over Zach in return, slow and deliberate, a half-smirk forming. “You really think you’ve got me figured out, huh?”

“Oh, my dude, I don’t think,” Zach said, the confidence in his tone bordering on smug. “No, see I know.”

“Funny,” Kevin murmured, leaning in just enough for his voice to drop a register, “I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“Yeah? Then you should know I’m high-performance, handle with skill, or not at all.”

“You gonna keep running your mouth,” Kevin asked, voice low but still dripping with cocky arrogance, “or are you gonna do something useful with it?”

Zach’s eyes dragged over him slowly, deliberately, before he shrugged casually like he was bored. “I dunno, man… ah, seems like a waste to put it to use if you can’t handle it. Be kinda like taking your Hellcat off-road, ya know, just messy, embarrassing, and unsatisfying."

Kevin’s laugh was short, sharp before his hand fisted in Zach’s hoodie, yanking him forward and shoving him back against Rexie’s bonnet in one smooth move.

Before Zach had a chance to say anything, the kiss landed like a slammed gear change, rough, fast, impatient. Zach let him have it for a few seconds, fingers curling into Kevin’s hoodie to drag him closer, then angled his head to deepen it, just to take control back.

Kevin pulled away a fraction, lip caught between his teeth and a smirk tugging at his mouth. “That all you got, pretty boy?”

Zach’s grin was pure provocation. “Nah. Just didn’t wanna blow your engine too soon.” Then, without waiting, he crashed back in, messier this time, biting Kevin’s bottom lip on purpose and letting go slow, like he wanted it to sting.

Kevin answered with a shove of his hips, pinning him harder against the warm metal, one hand braced beside his head like he was boxing him in.

Zach broke the kiss just enough to speak against Kevin’s mouth, breath hot. “You drive like this too? All throttle, no brakes, praying you don’t spin out?”

Kevin’s chuckle was low and dangerous. “Only when I want to win.”

Zach smirked, brushing his lips over Kevin’s without giving him the satisfaction of a kiss. “Then it must suck when you keep coming second.”

“Ah, typical subbie driver, always coming first…” 

Kevin’s mouth was hot against his, both of them fighting for control like this was just another race with no finish line. Zach tangled a hand in the back of Kevin’s hoodie, holding him there, smirking into the kiss like he was winning just by keeping him close.

Kevin’s hand slid from Zach’s shoulder to his waist, then down to his back pocket; ostensibly pulling him closer, but his fingers brushed the edge of a wallet. Zach was too busy biting at his bottom lip through the kiss to notice.

“Mm….” Zach broke away for half a second, lips slick and curved into a grin. “You kiss like you drive… a lil too fast, loud, and a little desperate.”

Kevin’s teeth grazed his jaw before he pulled back just enough to murmur, “Better desperate than stalling out at the green light.”

Zach snorted, going in for another kiss, but Kevin caught his chin in one hand, holding him there just shy of contact. “Easy, pretty boy,” he said with that same infuriating smirk. “Wouldn’t want you thinking you’ve got the upper hand.”

Zach arched a brow, leaning in until their noses almost touched. “Oh, I’ve got it. You just don’t wanna admit it.”

Kevin chuckled low, like he was indulging a kid who didn’t know better, then gave him one last, rough kiss, hard enough to leave a point made before stepping back.

Zach let out a faint, annoyed noise at the loss of heat, but covered it with a cocky smirk. “What, tapping out already?”

Kevin shrugged, slipping his hands casually into his hoodie pocket, the one now holding Zach’s license. “Gotta leave you wanting more.”

Zach rolled his eyes, shoving lightly at his chest as Kevin backed away toward the Hellcat. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Hellcat.”

Kevin just grinned, sliding into the driver’s seat. “See you around, pretty boy.”

**

Stirring the batter in the bowl, Buck let out a low grunt of annoyance before setting it down on the counter with a clatter, which naturally got Tommy’s attention from the magazine he was reading. 

“Everything okay, babe?” Tommy asked, already moving toward him. He slid his arms around Buck’s waist and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, letting his chin rest on Buck’s shoulder as he stared at the brown mess in the bowl.

If nothing else, it smelt good. 

Buck huffed, still staring at the half-mixed mess but clearly his mind was elsewhere. “Yeah, uh yeah. I-I just can’t get this batter right, no matter what I do, it’s just ruined.”

Tommy raised a knowing brow, not that Buck could see it. “Is that all,Evan, really?”

Buck hesitated, his shoulders lifting with a half-shrug as he tried to dismiss his feelings again, lightly breaking Tommy’s heart because Buck deserved the world. “Well, I know it’s stupid…”

“Hey,” Tommy murmured, squeezing him a little tighter. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid.” He began rocking them gently.

Buck sighed, rubbing at his temple. “It’s just, uh, I-I just thought, you know, that maybe opposites attract, right? T-That maybe Alex and Zach would hit it off better.”

Tommy let the silence sit for a beat before nodding against the back of Buck’s neck. “Mmm. Evan, you tried, and that’s all you can do. You can’t make people click. You can only give them the chance.”

Buck’s lips quirked, not quite a smile, but close. “Yeah, but when it doesn’t work, it kinda feels like my fault.”

Tommy chuckled softly, kissing the curve where Buck’s jaw met his ear. “Mhm, that’s because you carry the weight of the world on those big broad shoulders of yours. But listen to me okay, Alex is his own man, Zach is… well, Zach. Their choices aren’t on you, Evan. You can’t fix the world, you just have to be there.”

Buck leaned back into him at last, the tension in his frame easing as he let himself be held. “How do you always make it sound so simple?”

“Because it is simple,” Tommy said with a crooked grin against the back Buck’s neck. “You’re the one who makes it complicated. Lucky for you, you’ve got me around to keep your head straight.”

**

The following day at Harbor station, Zach plonked down next to Tommy with a groan, “Dude, I’ve like legit lost my license, I’ve torn up my room, Rexie, my locker looking for it. It’s, like, completely vanished.”

“That sucks.”

“I know, right? Like I can’t not be bothered waiting at the DMV foreeeeeeeeeeeeeevah to get a new one.” Zach slouched over the table with a hard done by sigh. “This sucks bro.”

Tommy hummed something sympathetic in reply as he did his Wordle. 

“Honestly, it’s, like, easier to get into my Netflix account after I forgot my password than get a new license, like shouldn’t it be easier, legit a license is not as important as my streaming services.”

Tommy bit his tongue, or tried to, “Mmm, I feel that’s not quite right there Zach,” 

At the end of the shift, Zach followed Tommy out of the hangar when he paused in his tracks.

“Kevin?” Zach called out, clearly surprised to see him there.

Tommy glanced over at the Kevin in question, and sighed deeply.

Great, they were multiplying. 

The man (if you could call him that) was leaning against the hood of a bright red Dodge Hellcat. He was tall, all long lines and easy posture, with dark messy hair, complete with a L.A dodgers cap (backwards, of course) Completing his look was a pair of dark sunglasses, a white tank top hanging just right over a lean frame and a smug little smile.  

“K.J.,” the man corrected smoothly, pushing himself off the car. “Everyone close to me calls me K.J.” His lips curved into a lazy smirk as he flipped something between his fingers, a license.

“I think you dropped this last time we talked.” K.J lied smoothly. 

“Wait, what, how?” Zach blinked dumbly as his eyes narrowed on the card, as K.J flicked it over to him, and Zach stumbled forward to snatch it back. Relief washed over his face until he noticed the neon sticky note slapped over the back, scrawled with a phone number and call me .

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “Uh… what the hell?”

K.J. tipped his sunglasses down just enough to reveal dark, amused eyes. “Oh sorry, my bad, I assumed Subbie drivers could read.” 

And with that K.J. got back in his car and took off. 

Chapter Text

Still listening to Tommy, Buck bent over and scooped Jee up into his arms, her bright pink tiny sneakers kicking against his side as he bounced her lightly. She squealed with delight before settling against him, chewing on the end of her shirt sleeve. Buck, meanwhile, was staring straight at Tommy, dead serious.

“What do you mean there’s two of them now?” he asked, tone flat, like a man bracing for bad news. Which, to be fair, might not be unfounded. “Was one not enough? In fact, was one not one too many?”

Tommy pulled a ridiculous face, a silly, funky smile mixed with an overly exaggerated grimace at Jee and sure enough, she let out a giggle, her eyes shining as she tucked her chin into Buck’s shoulder.

“Well, babe,” Tommy drawled at Buck, continuing to make silly faces at giggling Jee. “As I was saying, dear Zach found himself a boy. Complete with loud cars, no mufflers, a singlet instead of a shirt, basically the sequel nobody asked for.”

With a wince, Buck glanced down at Jee with forced cheer. “Uh, sounds great, doesn’t it, Jee?”

Jee turned her head slowly, her expression shifting into something unusually solemn for a four year old. She stared at Tommy, her little face suddenly very determined.

“Where’s Kitty?” she asked.

The room went still for a moment.

Buck’s mouth twitched slightly before bursting into a wide smile, reminding Tommy that Buck would make an excellent father one day. Tommy lifted his brows, caught completely off guard. Jee, still very serious, repeated in the exact same tone: “Kitty.”

And just like that, the whole conversation about Zach’s terrifying love life was derailed by a toddler’s single-minded demand.

From the lounge, all Tommy heard was a very grumpy four-year-old say, “Bad kitty.”

**

Zach checked his phone again, thumb hovering like maybe staring at the screen harder would force a notification to appear. Nothing. With a sigh, he shoved it back into his pocket and leaned against the side of the hangar, trying to look casual and failing spectacularly.

Tommy caught the motion. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s sweet…” Zach said, too quick for it to be ‘sweet’. 

Tommy raised a knowing brow, probing just an inch, which with Zach was all you needed to do. “But?”

Zach scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere except at him. “Like, I messaged Kevin, right? But he just… like, ghosted me. Which, fine, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Clearly,” Tommy deadpanned. 

“Like, I mean, he gave me his number, yeah? He didn’t have to; no one made him do that, right? Like, he chose to. So, I dunno, maybe hit me back, maybe not. Whatever. His loss.” Zach’s hands flapped about before he shoved them deep into his jacket like he could hide the fact that his knee was bouncing.

“Definitely,” Tommy said with a straight face, though his eyes betrayed the smirk tugging at his mouth. “Luckily, you’re so cool about it, huh?”

Zach huffed like an offended child. “Yo, don’t, like, patronise me, man. I’m zen. Totz chill… This, this is my chill face. Me? Like an ice-block.”

Zach definitely did not look chill. 

“Uh-huh.” Tommy reached out and ruffled his hair without warning. “I’m impressed that you used that big word correctly, though.”

Funny enough, Zach didn’t notice Tommy was being patronising then, more concerned about the damage to his hair. 

“N’awww, come on, dude!” Zach groaned, batting his hand away before using his phone to check his hair with a heavy frown. “It legit took me ages to get this just right, bro. Ages!”

Tommy just shrugged it off. “Mhmm, well, it’s not like Kevin’s gonna see it. He’s too busy ghosting you.”

Zach let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest with a flair which made Tommy wonder if Zach missed his calling by not taking drama class - Good looking, vain, and dramatic, he could have been a Hollywood star, or an average pornstar. Then again, to be honest, Zach probably would have been a very popular porn star, at least in gay porn… and Tommy really shouldn’t think of Zach as a porn star.

“Ouch, that’s legit cold, T-Bone, like ice cold. Hashtag freeze burn.” Thankfully, Zach’s mock outrage brought Tommy out of his porn related thoughts.

"How about you stop checking your phone and focus on your work, since, you know, you’re at work.” Tommy suggested.

“Dude, I wasn’t… okay, this is the last time, I swear.” Zach lied smoothly, checking his phone for a notification that still hadn’t come. 

**

Sitting in the firetruck, waiting for command to clear them into the scene, Zach was hunched over in his seat, thumbs flying across his phone like his life depended on it.

“C’mon, c’mon, just touch, ohhh, it’s so close. Yes, yes, yes, fuck oh my god,” he groaned, leaning so far forward his helmet nearly slid off his head, he used one hand to slide it back. “Oh yeah, look at those peaches man…”

“Anderson.” Tommy’s voice snapped across the cab like a whip.

Zach jolted upright so fast he nearly headbutted the steering wheel, his phone slipping out of his hands and clattering to the floor.

“For the love of all that is decent, please, please,” Tommy said, one eyebrow raised as he leaned around the seat, “tell me you are not watching porn. While on the job. In my firetruck.”

Zach looked around as if Tommy wasn’t talking to him, “Who?”

“You, idiot, who else?”

“What when….no!” Zach stammered, grabbing for the phone, which slipped further into the footwell of the truck. “Dude, I wasn’t…who even does that at work?” before he paused for a second, awkwardly tugging on his arm, “I mean, apart from in the showers, right, but that’s legit different, right, like…”

“Zach…”

“No way, man, promise.” 

Lucy tilted her head, a sly grin tugging at her mouth. “I dunno, Zach. The noises were… questionable.”

Zach shot her a wounded look as he finally scooped up his phone, holding it protectively to his chest. “It was my fruit merge game, alright? I was about to connect the giant golden pineapple with the mutant strawberry. It’s, like, peak strategy. And now I dropped my damn phone.”

Tommy folded his arms, expression dry as ever. “Mhmm, so what you’re telling me you almost gave me a heart attack over… digital fruit salad.”

“Uh, Mega fruit salad merge my man,” Zach corrected with a serious pout as his eyes glanced over the scene, before perking up as his screen lit back to life. “Oh, hell yeah, saved my combo!”

“He’s a child,” Tommy muttered to Lucy, who just grinned. 

**

Speaking of porn…

As they waited for the next call, Zach lay sprawled across the station table, a crime in itself, before he shoved his phone screen right under Tommy’s nose.

On it, a video of some hot guy lounging on a couch while another dude cleaned his house. Why the guy even needed a cleaner when he looked perfectly capable was Tommy’s first question. His second was why Zach was showing him this at all.

Then, in the clip, Couch Guy snapped his fingers and suddenly the poor cleaner was stark naked. Couch guy clicked his fingers, cleaner dude was dressed, then click and he was naked again.

Zach grinned like a kid showing off a magic trick. “Yo, T-Bone, legit wouldn’t it be wicked to have that power, bro? Like…” He snapped his own fingers. “Bam. Hot chick, hot dude, naked in front of you. Done.” He clicked his fingers again.

Somehow already tired, Tommy tried to level him with a long, flat stare. “Mhmm, so there are about ninety-nine issues with consent alone right there. Also, imagine being in a supermarket, minding your own business, and click-” Tommy clicked his fingers, and Zach pretended to cover his nipples, which had no right being that funny “-next thing you’re completely naked between frozen peas and the canned beans aisle, not even those ridiculous expensive sneakers you love.”

Zach smirked, rolling his shoulders against the table. “First, those sneakers are amazing, and ya know it, big boy. Second, what can I say, lucky shoppers.”

“Until you get arrested,” Tommy shot back dryly.

“Damn, hopefully they, like, give me a jumpsuit or something, because…”

Tommy gave Zach a light smack to stop him from talking for a second, “I swear to god, if you mention your ‘little kitty’ getting ran through, I will ground you for a week.”

A moment of silence as Zach weighed up his options. 

Then, somehow Tommy knew it was going to be terrible, and Zach laughed, unbothered. “Fine, fine, fine, whatever King…. But, like,  just imagine, right? Like, you with that power. Buck starts rambling about some new conspiracy theory he’s found on YouTube or Reddit or wherever, waving his arms like he discovered Atlantis, and then you just click-” Zach clicked his fingers “-and just like magic, he’s naked mid-rant… like, would that not make things more, let's say, interesting?”

“As it so happens, Zach, I enjoy Evan’s deep dives…”

“I bet you do, bro.” Zach said with a wink, and a nudge. 

The look Tommy gave him could’ve burned a hole through steel.

Zach rolled onto his side, brow furrowed as if he’d only just realised. “Oh. Wait. Was there a line? Like… did I just cross a line?”

“That question is about… six months too late” Tommy retorted. 

Zach rolled back on his back, staring up at the roof of the hangar, “Better than being nine months too late…” then a pause “That’s a pregancny joke by the way.”

Tommy slowly set his pen down. “To be a joke it has to be funny, and kinda make sense, that was neither.”

“N’aww T-Bone, that’s rough” Zach continued, gesturing lazily at the roof “It was a little funny, right?”

Tommy turned on the bench, “Are you planning on doing something useful or do you exist solely to annoy me? 

**

Sitting in the truck, Zach turned to Lucy and Tommy with a deadly serious look on his face, “Yo, just in case you’re like, wondering or anything, I made my social media profiles dp black until they stop bombing kids.”

Tommy simply gave Zach a look, “Well, you said to do something useful, ta da, something I can do to, like, make the world a better place for everyone. Hash tag world peace bro.”

Lucy clasped her hands dramatically. “Honestly, not sure how I’m going to survive without your six-pack selfies clogging my feed. Or those apron-only cooking videos. Or, let’s be real, the sheer volume of shirtless car poses… I mean, the amount of skin you post online is borderline obscene.” she quipped. 

Zach puffed up, grinning like she’d complimented him. “Aww, Juicy, don’t stress. I’ll still post those, for sure. The people don’t deserve to suffer just because world leaders are too much of a pussy to fight each other in, like, a cage match. Putin Vs….”

“Volodymyr Zelenskyy”, Tommy supplied after a beat, and Zach shot him a grateful nod. 

“Cheers, my man, anyway, never fear. Hashtag Zach Attack 217 will still be here.”

Tommy, hands on the wheel, didn’t look away from the road. “Mhmm, well, I’m sure we are all glad to know your half-naked thirst traps are the one constant in these troubled times.”

“Exactly King,” Zach said, missing the sarcasm by mile. 

**

After another false alarm, Lucy was putting the gear back in the truck when something clicked in her brain. 

“Hold up, I thought you didn’t watch porn at work, Anderson.”

Zach frowned, pivoting to look at her, “Yo, Juicy, I told ya, I don’t, except…”

“Yeah, yeah, in the showers, which is too much information and also, still not appropriate…but then how do you explain that video you showed Tommy?”

“Oh, the magic click one?” Zach said, lighting up, “Nah, man, that wasn’t porn, well not that part of it anyway, it gets pornographic later on, of course but we classy Juicy, we don’t watch that part at work.”

“Was it, or was it not a video featuring a naked man?”

“Donato! Nudity is not porn, nor is it necessarily sexual. The human body is a wonderful creation, completely natural. Really, I thought you of all people would not conform to society’s rigid and foolish pearl clutching when it came to the human form, Juicy, alas I was disappointed. Do better Lucy.”

Lucy stared at him for a moment, “Hold up,” she started, leaning against the truck, “But it was, wasn’t it.”

“Excusez-moi, we have no idea what was happening in that video,like, maybe it was hot, maybe he just enjoys being nude in the privacy of his own house… maybe…”

“Maybe you were watching porn at work.”

“Maybe you’re being judgmental against nudists.” Zach shot back with a smug, self-serving grin. “Hash tag free the nip Donato, free the nip. The human body is, like, a natural thing of beauty. No cap.”

Tommy grinned, “Damn Donato, how did you lose this one? Against Zach of all people.”

Zach waved Tommy off, leaning in with a smirk. “Because she’s a woman, T-bone. She just doesn’t get it.”

And just like that, Lucy was back in the game as she cocked her head, her jaw tightening like a vice. “Excuse me?”

Tommy straightened, eyebrows raised as a grin crossed his face, trust Zach not to know where to leave it. “Mouth meet foot,”

Lucy’s voice went silky, dangerous as she leaned against the fire truck, eyes narrowing on Zach. “So, tell me, Zach… what exactly is it about me being a woman that means I don’t get it?”

Zach froze, then forced a laugh. “Oh, well, hmmm. So, I think it’s, like, super important that I clarify I was just joking before, right? Like, ha ha, obviously, you’re, uh… legit as good as a man… ah, shit…”

Lucy’s smile was sharp as she went for the kill. “Oh, really, Zach, as good as a man? Little old me? I’m touched. Tell me, do you think I’ve done enough to be equal to you yet?”

Zach’s bravado cracked as he realised he had once again put his foot firmly in his mouth. “Ahh, yo, T-bone…” he squeaked, throwing Tommy a desperate look for backup that wasn’t going to come.

Tommy held up both hands, not getting involved; it was not his fight. “Sorry, bud. You’re on your own, but I think you’re definitely onto a winner there.”

**

One chaotic day finished, and Lucy strolled into the Captain’s office with her report tucked under one arm. The place looked the same as always: the bright lights of the hangar streaming through tall windows, onto his desk, which was covered in stacks of files, a laptop and a mug of coffee that never seemed to empty.

To be fair, dealing with Tommy, Lucy and Zach alone was enough to force a Captain to drink an unhealthy amount of coffee, let alone running the rest of the station. 

“What’s up, Cap’?” she said, as she dropped the report onto his desk with a light thwap, just to disturb him.

It worked though, the Captain glanced up from the paper in his hand, lips pressing together before he set it neatly aside.

“Donato. Take a seat. I was actually just thinking about your mate, Kinard.”

With a smug grin, Lucy dragged the chair out with her boot and sat down opposite their very serious Captain. “Oh, did he borrow another helicopter?” she teased, enjoying the unimpressed look that crossed his face. 

The Captain let out a slow breath through his nose and tapped his fingers against the desk. It wasn’t a smile, but the edges of his mouth pulled just tight enough to betray amusement. “That’s not funny, Donato.”

“Little bit funny,” Lucy replied with a grin, as she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms smugly.

He adjusted the papers in front of him so their corners lined up perfectly, then looked squarely at her. “I was thinking maybe I should pair him with someone other than Anderson for a change. Give him a break from the kid, before he has to take stress leave.”

Lucy gave a low whistle, rocking back in her chair. “Aww, Cap’, there’s no need for that. He and Anderson are like peanut butter and dynamite. A wee bit messy, a little bit explosive, but mostly fun. Besides Cap’ you can’t take Kinard’s project away from him, it’s the only thing stopping him from stealing more city property.”

The Captain ignored Lucy’s second jib about Tommy and Helicopters, “It’s not fair on Kinard,” the Captain said, his tone flat but steady, “I’ve been considering this for a while, but Kinard has the patience of a god damn saint.”

Lucy leaned forward now and rested her elbows on the edge of his pristine desk, complete with a sly smile as she tried to play her best poker face. “Hey, Cap’, isn’t there someone leaving the 119 soon?”

The Captain straightened slightly in his chair as he glanced over at her. “What does that got to do with anything, Donato?”

Lucy spread her hands, casual as anything, but her eyes locked on his with intent. “Let me prove something to you.”

**

The Captain found Tommy in the hangar, running end-of-day checks on one of the helicopters with a clipboard Buck would be jealous of. From just beyond the hangar doors, Lucy crouched out of sight, barely containing her grin.

“Kinard,” the Captain called, voice even, “can I run an idea past you, as one of my senior firefighters?”

Tommy tightened one of the bolts before straightening, wiping grease from his hands onto a rag slung over his shoulder. “Sure, Cap’. Shoot.”

The Captain stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back, posture straight. “Well, as you might’ve heard, Holloway over at the 119 has resigned.” His expression didn’t waver as he carefully kept his gaze on Tommy. “So I was thinking we might have some opportunities for a reshuffle here…”

Tommy gave a little nod, slow and respectful. “I’m honoured, Cap’, but I’m happy here.”

“Not you, Kinard.” The Captain’s tone was clipped as he caught Tommy off guard. “I was thinking more Anderson. We have the perfect chance to ship him out and have him be someone else’s problem.”

The Captain knew Tommy well enough to spot the minuscule crack: the faintest flicker across his face before he smothered it. Tommy folded his arms across his chest, the photo definition of cool, calm and collected.

“Look,” he said, tone impressively neutral, “if we transferred Anderson, we’d just get a new probie that we’d have to train up. That takes time, Cap. Resources. Distracts the team, doesn’t really make sense does it?”

Go figure the Captain thought to himself, maybe Lucy was right. 

“Mm,” the Captain hummed, as he pretended to be deep in thought. “And yet, you’ve trained up plenty of probies before. You’d manage, we might even get ourselves a diamond.”

Tommy’s jaw ticked, just slightly before he pulled himself back together as he nodded away, clearly pretending to think over the Captain's words. However, Tommy pressed on. “Right, but with all due respect Sir, Anderson already knows our rhythm. Sure, he’s rough around the edges, but he knows the way we work. Slotting in a stranger could throw the team’s balance off. That’s a risk in the field.”

The Captain tilted his head, almost sympathetic. “Or it could bring fresh eyes. Teams change all the time, Kinard, they learn to adapt, you know that.”

Your move, Kinard, the Captain thought to himself with a hidden smirk, keeping his face strictly neutral. 

Now, Tommy, to his credit, stayed stoic and straight-faced, but the Captain noticed how the rag twisted tighter between Tommy’s fingers. “Alright then, that’s correct, things change all the time... but, what about morale?”

“Morale?”

“Yes, Sir, look, you yank him out, people notice, and when people notice, they talk. Next thing you know, everyone starts wondering who’s gonna be next, putting people on edge. That’ll drag us down faster than a rookie mistake.”

For the first time, the Captain’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile playing there. “Huh.”

“Yes, sir,” Tommy said, voice calm but with just enough emphasis to sell it. “If Anderson hasn’t asked for a transfer, it’s risky to make it happen. Sends the wrong message.”

The Captain exhaled slowly, his expression neutral again. “Don’t worry, Kinard. Leave that part to me. We’ll make it seem like a promotion.”

From her hiding spot, Lucy nearly snorted but bit her knuckle to stay silent.

“What about Rankin, Sir?”

“Rankin, he’s just gone on leave, what has he got to do with anything….”

“Well, we’ve lost Rankin, and if you transfer Anderson, then we will have two probies at the same time.”

“No rule against that is there?” The Captain replied casually, watching the rag in Tommy’s fingers.

Tommy exhaled slowly and ran his other hand through his hair. “Look, Anderson’s… he’s not as bad as people think, alright? He’s… improving.”

“Great, then let him keep improving elsewhere.” 

“Uh, well, Donato would miss him….” Tommy added, somewhat lamely in the Captain’s opinion, he did expect a better come back. 

“Would she?”

Lucy’s muffled laugh almost gave her away. She cleared her throat, pulled herself together and walked out from behind the helicopter. “Oh, hey, Cap’, Kinard, what’s happening?”

“I was just explaining to Kinard my staff reshuffle plan, and he was saying you would miss Anderson if he went.”

Lucy made a ‘brrrrr’ noise as she exhaled slowly, deep in faux thought, “Well, I mean, he did give me the best compliment a woman can receive in the workplace-” She shot a smile at Tommy, “-He said that I, little old me, was as good as a man. I mean, I'd definitely miss those compliments, especially the positive comments about my looks. I’d miss those too. What about you, Kinard? Would you miss Anderson if he left?”

He shifted his weight, folded his arms tighter across his chest, and forced the words out. “Yeah, yeah, Donato, we get it, he doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes, but Cap’ he’s… he’s a good kid. I would miss him, so, if it doesn’t complicate your plans, I wouldn’t mind if Zach stayed on our team.”

The Captain let that hang in the air a beat longer than was comfortable, his gaze steady on Tommy. Then, calmly: “Noted.”

Tommy glared at the floor, then muttered, “Besides, if we send him off, some poor bastard over at 119 will hate us forever.”

That finally earned the Captain’s smile, “Good point, Kinard.”

**

Tommy stepped out into the fresh air after his shift to find Buck and Zach in deep discussion next to Buck’s jeep.

Zach spotted him first and waved at him like a manic, as opposed to when Buck waved at him like a heavenly angel with perfect curls and beautiful blue eyes. “Yo, T-Bone! Did you know your boy here is, like, a machine? A legend in the flesh. I am legit in actual awe.”

“Evan?” Tommy asked, curious as Buck grinned slyly. 

“Oh, hey,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck,  ears tinged pink “uh, yeah. I was just telling Zach about my time in Peru, uh, mostly pretty boring to be-”

Zach cut him off excitedly. “Bro, bro,bro. You would not believe it, T-Bone. Ya man, Buck here once did body shots off not one, but two hot, blonde German backpackers with, like, cartoon-level big tits. Oh god, you know the German chicks are kink bitches.”

With all the skill he could muster, Tommy kept his face as neutral as possible, before he shifted his gaze to Buck who squirmed slightly.

Buck’s grin evaporated. His ears turned crimson, and his whole face followed a second later, going bright red under the parking lot lights. “Zach!” he hissed, mortified. “Dude, what the hell-”

Zach held his hands up like he was telling sacred gospel and not spreading gossip. “What? I’m just honoring history, bro. That’s the kind of tale that deserves to be told, like, you are the man… fuck, if I had two hot Germans right now…” and he looked wistfully into the distance.

Tommy let the silence hang for a beat too long, watching Buck squirm  under his gaze for a minute before, dryly commenting. “Ahhh. Yes, of course, truly the Machu Picchu of your achievements in life Babe.”

“Nah dawg, that must be when ol’ Buck here gave away free drinks to get the chicks, but got caught and kept his motherfucking job by eating out the boss in the storeroom, like respect bro,”

“Really Evan?”

Buck coughed, eyes darting anywhere but Tommy’s. “Uh… I really needed that job?”

“Oh, and then what about that dude Connor that you followed to Peru…”

Tommy didn’t miss the kick that Buck gave Zach, “Hey, weren’t you just going, somewhere far,far away.” Buck asked with a glare. “Like far away…”

With a quick glance at his phone, Zach shrugged, “Nah bro, I have no plans tonight, but I might hit the club later, try some of the Buck 1.0 moves and see if they still work ya know,”

**

The club is a happening place, for sure, and an alpha stud like Zach, well he has so many options. So many, especially now, with being bi, and what not. However, it’s been, like a busy day, which is legit the only reason why he’s nursing his Jim Beam and Cola in the corner by himself. 

He downed the rest of it while staring blankly at his phone, which was foolish. Kevin, or K.J. wasn’t even that important. They had met once. He made fun of Rexie. He did not matter. 

Still, Zach had had a long day, and maybe it was best he went home and crashed before his next shift. 

“hEyy.” A hot blonde squealed, “Sorry, but me and my friends were sitting here earlier and I was like wondering did I leave my sunglasses here? Oh my gawd, I’m such a silly clutz, can you even imagine?”

Her voice was all airy, high-pitched, and dripping with that spoiled-rich-girl persona. She leaned down so close Zach could smell the perfume, a hint of strawberries. 

“Awwwah no, please gawd tell me they’re still here, I’ll be totally devs if they aren’t.”

They weren’t on the table, but Zach crouched to look under it for her, since he was the guy, sweeping his hand under the low table, peeking behind the chair legs like he was on a mission. “Yo Queen, like, what kinda sunglasses we talking? Like, Ray-Bans, Oakleys, or like, those big bug-eye ones?”

“They’re, like, Dior, obvi.” She flipped her hair, her gloss catching the neon lights. “Super cute, white frames, totally iconic. You can’t miss them, Awwwah, thank you so much for looking for me.”

“Hmm.” Zach crouched lower, scanning the sticky floor. “Nah, nothing. Just a mouldy as lime wedge, a quarter, and someone’s lost dignity…” as he used a straw to flick up a pair of pink panties off the floor, “... like wild huh? Someone had a good time here, but uh, like no sunglasses chicky…” he dropped the pink panties, “Yo, maybe bouncer dude picked ‘em up?”

He then paused to clarify, “Oh no, like, I meant your glasses, I mean, not uh, these panties, mhm, I can ask if you like?” 

The blonde giggled, a slow, sultry kind of laugh that should’ve told him everything. “You’re sooo, like, sweet. Not many guys would, like, get down on their knees in this dirty club to try and find my glasses”

“Legit chick, these clubs, they’re like Bermuda Triangles for accessories. I once lost a whole Snapback in one of these spots, like, never found it again and it was totz sick.”

She leaned against the booth, twirling a lock of her hair, eyes drinking him in like he was on the menu. “Well, maybe I could just, like, buy new ones… Speaking of buying, let me buy you a drink for helping me out.”

“Aww, no need, I don’t mind, but cheers.”

With a swish of her manicured hand, the blonde smiled, voice dripping with sugar. “I insist, another…” she leaned in to squint at his bottle, “Jim Beam, right? It’s the least I can do. Honestly, like, you’re such a gentleman.”

Zach laughed, leaning back. “Gentleman? Who me? Nah, like, legit I just don’t want you losing your Dior to the club goblins, ya know? But, like, if you’re buying, I mean, who am I to stop charity?”

She giggled, fingers brushing his arm as she flagged the bartender. “You’re, like, way cuter than most guys here. Do you come here a lot?”

“Only when I’m looking for somewhere to unwind,” Zach replied. 

Her jaw dropped, then she laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “You’re sooo funny,” she purred, which confused poor Zach, because he wasn’t entirely sure what he said that was so funny.

“Am I?”

“Totally, oh my gawd, I’m so lucky, the guy I ask to help me at the club is cute, fit, and so funny, lucky me, right?” she said, playfully whacking Zach’s shoulder. 

**

Roughly thirty minutes later, and Zach was making out in the corner of the club like a horny teenager, the hot blonde straddling his lap, her lipstick smeared across his mouth, her strawberry perfume clung to him as her nails digging into his shoulders, and hell yeah, he was living the dream.

Then his phone beeped in his pocket, and look, he knew that he shouldn’t check it when a hot blonde chick is giving him this much attention, but a part of him needs to know.

And he almost dropped his phone when he sees the message. 

Kevin: Yo man, u up?

Well, Zach wasn’t going to reply now. Not to the man who has ghosted him for like two days. Not when he had a hot blonde pashing him in the back of a nightclub. She was totally going to blow him in the back of his car, and he was going to make her squirt over his face. 

Damn, he should have brought the waterproof blanket, Rexie's poor backseats. He'd treat her to a car wash tomorrow.

Speaking of the blonde, she kissed his jaw, hot and messy and oh so perfect. “Mmm, you’re so, like, into this,” she purred, her hand sliding down to his belt and massaging his very excited hard-on that was straining against his jeans.

And he was. God, he was, especially his cock, which was well and truly ready to meet blondie. But Kevin’s name just sat there, burning into his skull. He didn’t even know blondie’s name. It didn’t matter though, because he had self respect, and he wasn’t going to ditch this ten out of ten for some guy who couldn’t text back. 

He wasn't.

Like a traitor, his phone buzzed again, screen lighting up with the same unread message. Damn iPhones and their stupid reminder ping.

Zach swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He wanted this, fuck yes he wanted her…. But, damnit he wanted Kevin more. He had waited days for this text, sulking around the firehouse, leaving the phone on the sink in the shower, jumping every time the phone screen lit up. 

He was not sad, okay.

“Yo Queen,” he said suddenly, breaking the kiss, words tripping over his tongue. “Sorry, uh, emergency. My buddy, uh, something came up.”

He hated lying about emergencies in case he jinxed it, so he tried to be as vague as possible. 

Clearly annoyed, the blonde just blinked at him in disbelief, still perched on his lap, pouty and confused at being ditched. “What? Seriously?” she complained in vain. 

“Yeah, like, I swear, raincheck for sure Queen,” Zach lied, already fumbling his phone open, already standing up, half-hard and flustered. “You’re totz amazing, but,  uh, like, duty calls ya know.”

She huffed, hair toss sharp enough to cut glass, but Zach barely noticed. He was already typing back with shaky fingers:

Zach: Yeah, I’m up. Where you at?

**

Twenty minutes later, and several ignored speed limits later, Zach pulled up across the road from Kevin’s place.  Apart from all the cars out the front, it looked like a normal, suburban L.A house. One storey, double garage which probably had more cars. Zach wondered to himself if Kevin lived with his parents or flatted with mates. 

Sitting in the car for a moment, his mind wandered back to the very hot chick he had dumped at the club. 

That had been… shitty, right? She hadn’t done anything wrong, in fact, she had been doing a lot of things right. But she wasn’t him.

Oh man.

He rubbed his face as he looked at himself in the rearview mirror - now, Zach liked to joke that he sold his dignity in 2019 to pay for a kebab - and that wasn’t wrong, he had done a lot of things that dented or ruined his self-respect, right? But ditching all his plans for a stupid boy, that was a new one.

He’d made girls do this before, sending a late-night booty call text, getting them to drop their plans, ditch friends, say fuck it and follow him across town for a good time.

Maybe this was karma.

Zach rubbed his face again, leaning toward the mirror. His reflection stared back: rumpled shirt, sex hair, guilt simmering under the smirk. He looked like a guy who was about to do something he’d tell himself was a bad idea later, then do again anyway.

This was definitely karma, for sure.

Karma with nice broad shoulders, nice hair and a wicked smile that could do very naughty things. 

He slapped the steering wheel, jumped out, and swaggered up to the door like he hadn’t just been spiralling in his car. Quick mirror check in the darkened window, a slick of the hair, tug of the shirt, and there it was, the trademark seductive smile that had toppled many a girl in many a bar.

Not to brag, but Zach was a catch, okay, like definitely a solid nine out of ten.

Right, showtime, baby Zach said to himself as he strolled, very casually, across the street and up the steps, past the lineup of cars in various states of repair, including a very nice chevy. 

He pushed the doorbell, and then stood back before he leaned against the pillar, before he straightened back up. Shit, he had forgotten how to look easygoing.

And then the door swung open, as Zach adopted a very much not casual stance, except (or maybe thankfully) some random dude stood there.

“Oh, shit-”

The guy sniggered, “Can I help you dude?”

“Yo, yeah, sorry bro, uh, like, ummm, is Kevin here?” Zach asked. “Umm, this is…”

The guy turned on the spot, and bellowed into the house “K.J., there’s some fuckwit here for you, called ya Kevin, what’s that about?” 

Well, that was rude. 

And then he was, in all his stunning glory. Now, vaguely, Zach was aware there were hotter guys out there right, he just couldn’t think of any right now because Kevin - sorry, K.J. was wearing short, black gym shorts and a white singlet. 

“Well, well, look who finally showed,” K.J. drawled slowly, as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and just looked at him. “You got lost, pretty boy? Oh, that’s right, I forgot you drive a subbie.”

“Hmm, well ya know what they say, good things take time,” Zach grinned as K.J. smirked. 

“Oi, I thought you said Chad-” His mate, still standing between them, started before K.J. 's foot shot out, landing a sharp kick to his mate’s shin without even breaking his smile. The guy yelped , glaring at K.J. who didn’t pay him any attention. 

“Leo, this is Zach,” K.J. said smoothly, like nothing had happened as he brushed past Leo. His gaze locked onto Zach again, hot and unyielding. “Zach is my hot firefighter.”

Before Zach could throw back some cocky one-liner, K.J. closed the gap, fisting the front of his shirt and yanking him forward.

“Whatever, dude,” Leo muttered, already limping off. “I’m missing Fast Five.”

“Oh, that’s a good movie,” Zach threw in brightly, earning a glare from Leo sharp enough to cut steel before he disappeared down the hall.

Once Leo was gone, Zach tried for casual conversation. “So, uh… Leo, huh? Like, is he a…”

K.J. said nothing, so Zach continued, “Is he like a friend, or maybe your brother, or…”

“What? Leo?” K.J. barked a laugh. “Pull the other one. Nah, me and a couple mates live here. We’re all into the car scene.” He gave Zach a look, amused. “You think I’d go for Leo?”

Zach scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I was just checking, ya know. And like… he’s hot.”

K.J. cocked his head, grin curling wickedly. “You think Leo’s hot?”

Zach froze. “…Uh, well, yeah.”

“Ha. I dunno if he’s into sloppy seconds, but I can ask for you if you want, but I call dibs on first.” K.J. slapped Zach’s arm, watching him flush. “Kidding, kidding. Don’t look so serious, Pretty Boy.”

Standing awkward in the hallway, Zach breathed out a light laugh and tried to act cool and casual. 

“Come on, Pretty Boy,” K.J. murmured, grin curling like smoke, “let’s see if you can handle me as well as you can handle your car.”

“I thought you didn’t like my car.” Zach teased as he tried to brush off his nerves. 

“Aww, I wouldn’t say that, I mean, it gets dominated by all american muscle… like car, like driver they say.” K.J. replied, before he pushed Zach against the wall like Leo wasn’t standing right there. 

The kiss hit like a gut punch, sudden and overwhelming. Zach’s back smacked into the wall before he had a chance to breathe, and K.J.’s mouth was on his, rough, unrelenting, all teeth and heat. Zach let out a muffled sound, half-surprise, half-need, grabbing blindly at K.J.’s waist.

It was messy and fast, exactly Zach’s brand of chaos, well except from the fact he wasn’t the one leading. For once, he was the one being handled, pinned in place while K.J. kissed him like he was already winning a fight Zach didn’t realize he’d walked into.

When K.J. finally pulled back, lips brushing his ear, Zach managed to gasp, “So, uh… Chad, huh?”

The smirk on K.J.’s face faltered, just enough for Zach to notice as his grip on Zach’s shirt tightened.“Don’t,” K.J. warned softly, voice edged like glass. “Don’t say that name again.”

And then he kissed him again, harder, as if that could smother the question out of Zach’s mouth entirely.

**

Lying on the bed afterwards, K.J. put a hand on Zach’s stomach, “Well,” K.J. said, that grin lazy and lethal, “not bad for a pretty boy who drives a Subbie. I’m gonna grab a shower. You gonna join?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, bro,” Zach puffed, trying to sound casual even though his voice cracked like a teenager. “Just, like, gimme a sec, yeah?”

“Typical Subaru drivers.” K.J. laughed, low and knowing, and pushed himself up off the bed. His shoulders flexed as he stretched, then he sauntered toward the door in all his bare ass, cock half-hard and swinging with each step glory. Zach, meanwhile, propped himself up on his elbows and watched, enjoying the view of K.J.’s bare ass as he walked away. 

“Dude, uh, is there a towel or something?” Zach asked, waving vaguely.

K.J. stopped at the doorway, turned back, and smirked, looking sinfully good with his sex hair and semi hard cock just dangling there. “Come on Zach, this house is full of guys. Don’t tell me you’re shy?” He threw in a wink for good measure, then disappeared. “Showers second door on the right, see ya soon.”

Zach flopped back with a groan. Just one minute, he told himself. Just one minute to gather his thoughts. K.J… well, let's just say K.J. was worth the wait.

That’s when his phone buzzed. Reaching for it, he accidentally picked up K.J.’s instead. Realising when the lock screen picture was a stupid, bright Dodge Hellcat instead of his sexy blue WRX, he almost put the phone back when he noticed the messages.

Chad: Sorry cutie, missed your message

Chad: Still missing me??

Chad: I’m free now if you are

Chad: Hello?

It could mean nothing, Zach told himself, besides this was just a casual hookup. K.J. wasn’t his, not really. No one ever said anything about exclusivity. They hadn’t even had a real conversation beyond “u up?” and “fuck, don’t stop.”

Still, something ugly curled low in Zach’s gut as he lay there for a second, before pushing himself off the bed. 

Looking down the hallway, Zach considered grabbing a shirt, or his boxers. He was a sticky mess. Still, there was no one around and it kinda was a challenge from K.J. - and he didn’t want to look unmanly. He wasn’t some shy blushing virgin, and there was nothing wrong with driving a Subaru, thank you very much. 

Plus, he had gone streaking before heaps of times, and done so many walks of shame.

Standing up in the room, he looked around for something to wipe up the mess, but he didn’t really want to use his good shirt, the one he would have to wear home and he really probably shouldn’t use K.J. 's shirts, even if they looked dirty, dumped around the bedroom. 

“Second on the right,” he muttered to himself, and bolted.

He dashed down the hallway and swung a door open with all the confidence in the world—only to skid to a halt as four pairs of eyes locked onto him.

The room erupted into laughter.

Zach froze in the doorway, stark naked, with every incriminating detail on display, including that sticky patch on his stomach.Now, Zach has no shame so normally, he’d own it, hell maybe even pose for effect but right now he could feel every sticky reminder of what he’d just been doing, and there was no spinning this one into a win.

Leo, sitting cross-legged on the bed with a beer, smirked wide enough to split his face. “Ahh, nice to see ya again, Fuckwit. I think you’re looking for the shower, yeah? Second on the left.” He held up his fingers in an exaggerated L. “Left.”

The guys howled. One even clapped.

Zach, cheeks burning but still forcing a grin, threw his hands up like he was on stage. “What can I say, boys? I always leave an impression...” He cleared his throat, “...but uh, I’ll be, like, going now.”

He left the room with an awkward wave, and collapsed against the wall, rubbing his face before the door opened and one of the guys from the lounge stopped, and stared at him before shaking his head, “Dude, like, stop running around our house naked, it’s kinda weird.” 

The dudes eyes then travelled further south, and he nodded, “Must have racked some karma points in your last life to be so blessed, huh.”

“Yeah man, of course, just…” Zach pointed at the shower, “Going that way, uh, cheers.”

**

Pressing an ear against the shower door, Zach could hear the shower running, which was a good sign. 

He opened the door, and snuck into the room, which was a standard older style bathroom, cramped with a glass shower next to the toilet bowl with a tiny sink, handrail squeezed in and a very dirty extractor fan which neither Tommy nor Lucy would approve of.

A cracked tile was duct-taped to the wall next to the sink, and there was a faint smell of mildew that no amount of Lynx Africa could mask.

It kind of reminded Zach of his own bathroom back before Tommy had forced him and Cassidy into doing a "real clean." He still remembered Lucy's horrified face when she found out he didn’t think towels needed washing. “You literally just got clean Juicy, so how the hell is it even getting dirty?” 

She hadn’t let him live it down for a week.

“Oh, nice of you to make it, I was about to send out the old search and rescue party for ya.” K.J. quipped from the shower, covered in soap, looking like a dream, honestly, it was a shame Zach had tried being strictly straight for so long, because this, this was amazing. 

“Second on the right?” Zach replied coolly, stepping forward towards the shower, “That’s what you said.”

K.J. laughed, “Yeah, gotcha too…”

“Gotcha? Dude, I was standing starkers in front of your flatmates…”

“With my cum on your stomach too, classic.” K.J. sniggered from the shower, “Oh, relax, it’s like a hazing thing, right, gotta make sure you’re not too soft… if ya know what I mean. Now, are you sulking or joining me?”

Zach shook his head and did a wee twirl as he tried to think, earning a wolf whistle from K.J. “I hope ya left the lil stripper twirl for me, my mates don’t need to see everything.”

“Hahaha, you’re so funny.” Zach shot back before he sighed, 

"Oh please, don’t tell me the big tough WRX man is scared now," K.J. said, smirking. "That would be a tragedy. All that Subie driver swagger, gone to waste."

Zach sighed again, rubbing a hand through his damp hair like that might chase the embarrassment off his skin. “Goddamn it,” he muttered to himself, turning toward the fogged glass shower door. “You’re a prick, you know that right?”

“You want this prick, don’t ya?” K.J. asked, grinning as he leaned back under the spray. “Come and get it before I get bored of waiting.”

“And if you do, you’ll, uh, text that Chad guy?” Zach asked, not as casually as he would like, and K.J.s head snapped back around.

“What did you say?”

“Chill, it was a joke, it’s just, umm, Leo, was it?, he, like, mentioned a-”

K.J. sighed, turning off the shower head, “Yeah, yeah, Chad… he’s my ex, anyhow, he’s long gone now but whatever.”

“Oh, uh, I thought ya know, like, I was joining ya.” Zach said, as K.J. stepped out.

“Oh, you were, until you started asking about my ex, kinda a turn off. Towels are over there, I’ll bring your clothes through, don’t need ya flashing all my mates again like a weirdo.”

Zach’s stomach twisted. “Uh, hey now, like,  I didn’t mean to upset ya-”

K.J. waved him off, already halfway out the door. “Oh please, it’s fine. I’ll flick you a text or something when I’m free next, just get clean, you stink.”

Then he was gone.

Zach stood there, bare feet flat on cold tiles, chest still rising like he’d sprinted here instead of just talked, as he stood there, the bathroom felt smaller without K.J. in it. Now it was just fogged-up mirrors, an uncomfortable, damp heat, and the echo of the door clicking shut behind him.

Absent-mindedly he grabbed the shower taps and turned the shower back on, and steam curled around Zach’s knees as he stepped into the shower and turned the water back on. He stood under it, still and silent, watching the mist swallow the room whole as he overthought his actions.

He could be blowing K.J. right now, instead, he was alone.

He wasn’t sure what stung more: being shut down so easily or the fact that he hadn’t even meant to ask about Chad. It had just… slipped out. Like a loose thread in the hem of a t-shirt, he couldn’t stop picking at. It wasn’t even his place to ask; he had no right and yet he, and he had upset K.J.

A few minutes passed. Five, maybe more. Zach wasn’t keeping count.

Then, the bathroom door creaked open.

Zach froze, glancing toward the sound.

K.J. didn’t say anything, not a word. Not a joke, or comment, just a blank expression. Maybe Zach should say something, but words failed him. 

A second later, something landed with a soft thud on the floor just outside the shower. Zach squinted through the foggy glass, and saw his boxers, jeans and shirt. Neatly-ish folded, dumped on the floor without a word.

The door shut again. 

Whatever.

Zach got out, dried himself off and got dressed and stepped into the hallway before stepping into the lounge.

“Aww, you didn’t have to get dressed for us.” Leo said with a smirk as Zach tried to fight the blush spreading across his cheeks. He wasn’t bothered, it was just boys being boys, it was funny. 

Trying to act as unbothered as he was, Zach forced out a chuckle. “Haha, yeah boys, thought I’d spare you the encore, unless you have some twenties around.” Then he shoved his hands in his pockets, “So, uh, is K.J. around?”

Leo took a swig of his drink and shook his head. “Nah, man. He fucked off like five minutes ago. Don’t expect him back tonight.”

Zach’s laugh caught in his throat. “Right,” he said. “Cool,cool, cool… uh, I’ll just go.”

**

Which is how Zach found himself at a remote(ish - this is still L.A afterall) lookout, leaning on the bonnet of his car, with a ginger beer, looking out over the city. 

This crush,  if you could even call it that, was stupid. He had met K.J. twice? Not even had a proper conversation. No sir, this was not a crush, he wasn’t some basic teenage girl and, yes, while they had had sex (amazing, mind blowing sex), but it was over, like all one night stands.

...But also, not to sound, like, gay or anything, but ya know, Zach wouldn’t exactly be opposed to something slightly more than that. Not necessarily with K.J., of course, but, like, not necessarily not with him either.

Which was fine, right? It was good to keep options on the table. 

With a deep sigh, he took another sigh of the ginger beer and kinda wished it was a real beer. There was the sound of tires crunching behind him as another car pulled up, and Zach prayed it wasn’t a serial killer, because legit, since like the 1920’s the police had found four or five dead bodies up here.

That was actually how Zach found the spot, watching True Crime one night when he couldn’t sleep. In his mind, he would wrestle the murderer and pin him till police arrived and he would be a national hero but in reality, he would probably jump in Rexie and hoof it out of there.

A silver volvo sedan pulled up opposite him, and then the last person he expected to see got out. Tall, blonde, good looking and Swedish - not that you could tell he was Swedish from looking at him, then maybe you could. 

That blonde mustache and beard was a choice, made him look slightly older, more like a daddy… although the slight twinge in his pants told him it wasn’t a bad choice. Not that he would admit it. 

“Oh, yo, Alex right?” He called out, preemptively. 

“Ja, small world, Zach is it?” Alex asked as he climbed out of his car, “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

“The one and only,” Zach replied, lifting the ginger beer in a mock toast. “Sometimes I like the quiet.”

“You? Quiet?” Alex scoffed, before his eyes narrowed on the glass bottle in Zach’s hand, “You aren’t drinking and driving are you? As a firefighter you of all people should know better, ja?”

Huh, Zach looked down at the ginger beer bottle, in the dark, from a distance it probably did look a little bit like a beer bottle. Now, Zach could explain that it was a soft drink and not an alcoholic drink but were was the fun in that.

“Don’t worry bro, it’s only, like, my third of the night, I’m fine… like, I legit know my limit.”

“That’s not funny,” Alex fumed, and Zach shrugged because it was a little funny.

“Chill, Daddy, chill,” Zach said with an overly exaggerated wink, holding the bottle up to the moonlight. “I promise it’s just ginger beer. Zero percent alcohol, but still plenty of sugary goodness. I’ll have you know, I’m, like, a very responsible adult.”

With a stretch, Zach turned his attention from the judgemental old man to the beautiful view of the city spread out before them. Who the fuck would come up to this peaceful place and dump a dead body? 

“You are not,” Alex replied coolly, but there was a crack in the armor, a subtle twitch in the corner of his mouth. “You are the least responsible person I’ve ever met.”

“N’awww, thank you king, I appreciate the ranking, I mean, I assume you have met a few people in your life, so honored I rank so high up.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Actually, I barely think of you, ah, as we would say, En mygga på en elefant.”

At Zach’s blank look, Alex translated, “You are like a mosquito on an elephant to me.”

“Ahhhh, but ya do think about me.” Zach teased with a smirk, as he rested the bottle against his lips. 

Alex opened his mouth to reply, before he closed it again, standing there lost for words for a moment. That was enough to make Zach grin.

“Don’t worry King, No one can blame ya,” Zach went on, all confidence bluster as he smirked smugly. “I’m like hot, fit, young. You could say I’m legit a certified snack.”

“You’re a brat, that is what you are.” Alex replied.

“Oh, am I just? And what are you gonna do about it? Zach challenged, ignoring a very pointed rush of blood.

“Nothing.” Alex replied, anti climaxitical, “You’re ego will trip you up soon enough by itself, and I will not have to deal with the fallout.”

“Ugh, boring.” Zach complained, finishing the gingerbeer and then aiming at the bin, missing by only a fraction as it bounced over the stones, thankfully not breaking because that was one thing Zach couldn’t be bothered dealing with.

It was bad enough missing in front of Alex and looking like a dweeb. 

“Pick that up.” Alex said, and Zach turned to glare at him because he was going to, he really was but since Alex told him to, he simply stopped on the spot and turned with a shrug.

“And if I don’t? Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Report you to the pollution hotline.” Alex answered simply.

“Ugh, so fucking boring,” Zach whined, walking over to the bottle that he had been going to pick up anyway.

Alex folded his arms. “What exactly did you expect, Zach?”

Now, the rational part of his brain said ‘don’t say it Zach, don’t say it.’ but that part of his brain was easily over-ruled, so Zach tilted his head, his grin returned, wicked and smug. “Oooh, I dunno. Maybe…like, a spanking? For the littering? Gotta teach the naughty firefighter a lesson, right?”

The silence that followed that was thick enough to chew.

“Kidding.” Zach added, bending over to grab the bottle off the ground.

Then came Alex’s response, quiet but firm, almost like a challenge, “Is that what you want?”

Zach faltered, almost dropping the bottle but catching it again as he looked up and caught Alex’s glance. “Uhh, sorry, what?”

“A spanking? Is that what you want Zachary?” Alex continued, taking one step forward, standing tall. “Is that why you act like such a child because you want someone to treat you like one? To put you in your place?”

Zach’s mouth opened, and nothing came out as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Alex stepped closer again, not much, but enough that the air changed between them. “Why do you always turn everything into a game? You throw bait, you flirt, you provoke. And then what, run when it stops being fun?”

Zach looked away first, before he bit his bottom lip and tried to glare at Alex, but was unable to hold his gaze as he ducked his head. “Ah, it was joke man, don’t take it so serious.”

Alex nodded, like that answered something, which Zach chose to ignore. This was stupid, it was just a joke… mostly. After all, Alex was some boring loser Buck and Tommy had tried to force onto him, and Zach definitely did not check out his big, firm hands, or how the white tight tee shirt clung to his stupid chest just right.

“Mhm, thought so.” Alex said, stepping back. 

The tension was molten now, a heat pulsing low in Zach’s gut that wasn’t entirely rage.

“Whatever,” Zach muttered, as he stalked back to Rexie. “This…” he gestured between Alex and himself “...was lame anyway.”

He didn’t look back as he fired up the engine, gears grinding slightly before catching. Alex didn’t move. Just stood there, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Whipping out his phone, Zach sent a text message to K.J.

Zach: Sup man, any chance your bed’s accepting visitors again soon? Asking for a very satisfied friend.

**

Arriving back at the apartment, at god knows what time, Zach knocked on Cassidy’s door before bowling in without a care (to be fair, there was no sock on the door handle and Cassidy was still single as fuck). He collapsed onto the end of the bed with a dramatic thud, arms sprawled wide.

“Yo, Cass, you awake bro?”

The only answer was a muffled grunt, followed swiftly by a pillow smacking Zach in the face, which was rude, to be honest, it was just a question. 

“Fuck off.” Cassidy groaned into his sheets, twisting at the disturbance, “Aghhh, I’m asleep asshole, now fuck off.”

“Are you?” Zach said, kicking his shoes off onto the floor and flopping onto his back in the dark, “Because, like, you’re literally talking right now dude.”

“Have I ever, ever mentioned how murderable you are?” Cassidy grumbled, “What do you want?”

“Okay, that’s kinda rude… I just wanted, like, to talk to someone.”

“And that couldn’t be that old dude you work with?”

Eventually, Cassidy gave in and rolled over, half listening, half scrolling on his phone as he yawned through Zach’s night. 

“Woah, I’m so glad you woke me up for this.” Cassidy deadpanned. “Why, oh why would I want to be sleeping right now.”

Zach threw the pillow back at Cassidy, who knocked it to the floor, before rolling back onto his back. “Right, let me see if I got this right Zach…” Cassidy cleared his throat, “...You finally caught up with this guy you’ve been obsessing over for the last two days, and jumped straight into bed with him, then upset him, then flirted with some rando ol’ dude at a look out.”

“Hey, no!” Zach protested, “No, that’s not what happened… well… I mean.”

“No, shuddup before you damage anymore of my brain cells, you’re a mess. I’m tired. Now fuck off or something and let me sleep.” Cassidy shoved him with his foot.

“Excuse you, I am not a mess. And anyway, you can’t talk. You’re, like, single and sad, bro.”

Cassidy froze mid-shove, then smirked dangerously. “Alright, let me ask you something…why am I single?”

Zach immediately regretted opening his mouth. “…Irrelevant.”

“Never mind, I have the answer. Because some dickhead,” Cassidy continued, now sitting all the way up, “screwed my girlfriend in the shower while I was making us pancakes, can you even believe that, the audacity.” and then he booted Zach off the bed. 

Landing on the floor with a heavy thud, Zach looked up in the dark, “Umm, well, to be fair in my defence-”

Another pillow hit him in the face, “For the love of god, shuddup and go to bed.” 

**

At work the next day, Zach managed to corner Lucy in the breakroom.“Sup, Juicy,” he grinned, leaning against the counter with the kind of swagger that made her suspicious on instinct. “Looking fine as always, girl. That uniform’s doing some serious overtime today, respect.”

“Whatever it is you want,” Lucy replied flatly, reaching for the instant coffee, “the answer’s no.”
 She glanced over at him, holding the useless paper cups, which she waved at him. “You want one?”

Zach scrunched his face in disgust at the thought of instant coffee. “Ah yeah, nah, hard pass, Donato. If it’s not iced, with like, triple caramel and whipped cream, made by some green hair liberal with daddy issues, then it’s not touching these luscious lips.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, before pouring herself a cup. “Hmmph, see, you call yourself an Alpha male, and then you say shit like that and I’m not sure whether I should be impressed that you understand that men can, too, enjoy sugary goodness or call you a child… or.” Lucy paused before the kill shot, “To point out that you can have all the sugar now, but as soon as you hit thirty, you’re gonna balloon and turn into Gary.”

It’s unfair, but both of them turn and looked at Gary, sitting at his desk, eating a pie, surrounded in crumbs in a scene that could of been out of Brooklyn nine-nine with Scully and Hitchcock. Zach grimces, very much unimpressed. 

“Wow, that is wild as fuck, and rude as fuck, and totz false okay, I’m gonna be a hot old guy, like Buck or Tommy. Classy, mature, like blue cheese.”

“You hate blue cheese.” Lucy reminded. 

“Of course I hate blue cheese, it’s yuck and it stinks like dirty feet. Like, what are you even on about.” 

Now Lucy could have pointed out that Zach was the one that mentioned blue cheese first, but she needs her brain cells for later, so instead she shrugged off the question, “Gotta be honest, with you, I’m never sure. Did you want something Anderson?”

“Oh!” Zach exclaimed, causing Lucy to jump from the abruptness and the noise, in the background Gary drops his pie, “Yes! Am I like, ya know, messy?”

“There are so many ways to take that, do you mean as a person? Or when you’re eating, when you’re filling out your reports? Your house? Dishes? Washing?”

Zach went to say something but Lucy held out her hand, “Trick question, you are messy in every part of your life. I know males don’t stop developing until like 25, but I’m waiting for you to start Anderson. Starting from yes, you have to wash your towel and change your bed sheets”

“Hey now, that was understandable, and like, I do… now, anyway, besides that’s not what I meant-”

“In the bathroom we have these things called laundry hampers, your dirty clothes go in them, not next to them. Umm, in the kitchen, we rinse our plates and then put them in the dishwasher - what else, oh, when filling out our reports, we write so other people can read them… clearly…”

“Hey!” Zach protested, “Legit, we could join the 20th century, and use computers instead of hand written reports.”

“Zach, it’s the 21st Century…”

“My point, Donato, my point exactly… we still use Windows Ten for our computers, we’re like, in the stone ages.” Zach replied and Lucy tilted her head.

“Wait, hold up, were you witty? Oh wow, I’m impressed, sorry, I just automatically assumed you said something dumb. My bad, Anderson. Anyway, yes, you are a messy child, but you’re our messy child, so.” and she gave a half shrug. 

“Okay, ouch, but I meant, like, relationship wise.” 

Lucy laughed, and it was genuine before she saw the hurt look on Zach’s face. “Oh, shit, you were being serious, oh wow. Um, hmm, I’m so sorry…” before she burst into a bout of laughter. “Wait, hold on…” she cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, I can’t. Zach, I’ve known you for almost a year now and no relationship has lasted longer than, a couple of weeks, at best.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s kinda my point, right?.” Zach shifted, uncharacteristically unsure for half a second. “Like, I know I’m hot, clearly. But am I just, like, fuckable? Or could I be, ya know… dateable? Maybe, for like, the right person of course.”

“Zach.” Lucy warned.

“Okay, okay, right, it’s just, do I, like, just need a rebrand, ya know? From stud to…” he clicked his fingers, “ya know, like, available.” 

Lucy snorted, with a shake of her head. “You don’t need a rebrand, Anderson. You need therapy, hydration, and to stop texting people ‘u up?’ at 1 a.m.”

With a pout, Zach whined “Yo, but those are, like, my core values Lucy, they define me as a person.”

“And this, this is why you are messy.” Lucy said, already done with him.  “Now, please do me a solid favour and find Kinard, okay?”

“Hmm, because he tamed Buck?” Zach asked, as he leaned against the table holding the instant coffee and paper cups. 

“Ah, no, more because after about five minutes you go from being annoying but cute to annoying and punchable, so let’s aim for staying cute, that’s a good boy.” Lucy patted his shoulder and walked off. 

“See, I knew you found me cute.” Zach called out.

“Go annoy Kinard, Anderson.” 

**

“Yo T-Bone, would you date me or just fuck me?” Zach called out, which caused Tommy to drop the spanner he was holding and hit his head on the tail of the helicopter. “Ouch man, that legit looked painful, bro.” Zach winced as he watched Tommy rub his head. 

“Mmm, it was but I’m used to that when it comes to talking to you.” Tommy quipped, still rubbing his sore head, “Do you mind explaining what you just said?”

“Oh, I meant like, in general right, clearly not now, like, I can’t compete with Buck and his baking…”

“Or in general, but please go on.” Tommy added, then under his breath, “You will anyway.” 

“Fair, Buck is a legend, but I meant like, you know me, right? So like, we know I’m, like, a stallion but am I a stallion you can take home to meet your mom, for real?”

Tommy shook his head. “Right, because mentoring you through basic safety protocols naturally qualifies me to evaluate your fuckability vs dateability.”

“Well, that and you’ve seen me shirtless. A lot, like a lot. You're welcome by the way. Also, we’re like best friends, bro,”

Tommy ignored the comment, “Sadly, so hold on, you want to know if you are, what, dateable? I feel like that’s something you should know. Do you want to actually date someone? Be loyal to them, listen to them, consider their needs and wants, or do you want to keep thinking with your dick and fucking whoever gives you even an ounce of attention?”

“Okay, there’s no need to be quite so brutal king, you could of ,like, eased me into that.” Zach muttered, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. 

“Is this about that K.J. guy?” Tommy pressed. 

“No.” Zach replied far too quickly, “What, that’s a wild take man, like, I don’t even know why you would think that. That… that is next level-”

Except.

“Just to remind you,” Tommy pointed out, already feeling a Zach-related headache flare up behind his eyes, “you did add me to your private Snapchat story. And your ‘close friends’ list on Insta. Soooo maybe don’t bullshit me while you’re asking me for advice.”

Zach froze, his mouth opening, then shutting again like a fish.  “Oh. OH! Oooohhh. Damn it, Zach.” He groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Okay, fine. Yes. I finally ,like finally hooked up with K.J. last night, but that’s not the point. Mostly. Okay, kind of is the point, but it’s also not? Like… it’s a mute? moot? Moo?”

“Moot.” Tommy supplied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “M-O-O-T. Not mute, m-u-t-e, and definitely not moo like a cow.”

“Right. Cheers, king.” Zach nodded solemnly, then immediately derailed himself. “Anyway, it’s a moot point because I already kinda fucked it up, which is tragic, because the sex was fucking amazing, dude.”

He tilted his head back with a wistful expression  “Like… epic. Next-level, life-altering, angels-singing kind of epic, ya know dawg.”

Tommy bent over to pick up the spanner. “Thanks for the review.”

“No, for real man, like I didn’t know bottoming could be that good, like, I thought it was all about the top’s enjoyment right, like getting pounded, but K.J. does this thing with his hips…”

“Zach, please.”

“Kinda makes me understand that rando that made me fist him.”

Tommy dropped the spanner again as he cursed the universe as Zach made a fist, holding it up and staring at it with genuine concern. “Dude, where did my arm even go? Like, this should not go up there. And not that far. He was like… like a Muppet on my hand.”

“Jeez Zach, please…”

”honestly,” Zach continued, still looking at his arm in horror “I thought he was gonna, like, legit swallow me up with his asshole… dawg, I thought it was wild enough when Jennifer let me shove a monster can up hers in high school…”

“So, this K.J. guy, why did things go south?” Tommy asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject. 

“Oh, snap, so get a load of this T-Bone.” and then Zach launched into a far too detailed story about his night as Tommy went back to work on the helicopter, getting Zach to pass him tools mid-sentence. 

Then, Tommy stopped what he was doing, “He did what?”

“He just left.” Zach said sadly, “Like, straight up peaced out while I was showering.”

“No, before that” Tommy clarified. 

“Oh, with his tongue? Dude it was mind-”

That earnt Zach a light smack around the back of the head, “With the shower, did you say he deliberately sent you into the lounge in front of his mates?”

“Oh, that, that was nothing.” Zach dismissed with a shrug, “Anyway…”

“That’s not cool, Zach, you know that right?” Tommy challenged, "That's not funny or sexy, or whatever.”

Zach slouched against the helicopter, rolling his eyes like Tommy was the unreasonable one for caring about him. “Oh my god man, it was a joke, or something… besides, I’m not shy right, like, whatever, it’s totz chill.”

With a deep sigh, Tommy put the spanner down, “Look, kid, you need to expect better from yourself and the other person if you want something serious.”

Zach stared at him for the longest moment, seemingly in deep thought, or at least as deep as he could muster.

But.

Then his phone buzzed, and his face lit up with that stupid dopey smile “Oh, sick, K.J. just texted me,” and he stuck his nose back into his phone, before he looked up at Tommy, “Like, should I wait like, ten minutes before I reply, ya know, to seem cool?”

With a shake of his head, Tommy went back to work on the helicopter.

**

Later that night, back at his place with Buck sitting at the table, Tommy poured them both a very nice glass of red wine. 

“Uh, I mean, I find it kinda sweet how you are so worried about him, but may I remind you that Zach is not innocent by any stretch of the imagination.” Buck said, picking up his glass.

“Hmm, yeah, I am well aware of that, but it’s just, I wish he would find someone else…”

Buck arched a brow, his smirk deepening as his eyes followed Tommy around the room. “Mmm, more mature, maybe?”

“No, I didn’t say that Evan.” Tommy replied, although that was what he meant, Of course it was what he meant. How could he not want Zach to have a mature, sensible partner.  

“Uh, so, huh, what exactly are you saying? And have you told Zach you’re vetting all his future love interests? Or is this a secret spy kinda thing?” Buck asked, all fake sweet as he leaned forward over the table, looking up at Tommy with those dangerously blue eyes. 

“You’re a goddamn tool, Evan,” Tommy grumbled, shaking his head as he spared a quick glance at the timer on the oven. Buck had burnt the Lasagna last night, so tonight Tommy was on cooking duties, which meant everything had to be perfect. 

His pride was on the line here.

At the table, Buck grinned, that cocky little head tilt, lips just a fraction about, that always made Tommy roll his eyes right before wanting to kiss him senseless.

“Oh, c’mon, you love my tool,” Buck shot back with a wink, leaning back in his chair, “And I love you loving my tool.”

The timer went off.

Saved by the bell. 

Chapter Text

The kitchen gods had been smiling down on Tommy, because his pride was saved, the pasta dish was perfect, if he did say so himself.

“We love a man who can cook.” Buck declared as he waltzed into the kitchen.

“Who is ‘we’?” Tommy asked, tidying up in the kitchen as Buck sat like a brat on the kitchen counter awaiting his kisses.

“Uh, well to be fair, I was more thinking along the lines of the ‘royal we’, but to be fair…”

“Don’t you dare say…”

Buck put his hands together, “Oh Daddy-T, you’re such a big strong cook.” 

With a splash, Tommy dropped the plate into the sink and turned to glare at his naughty boyfriend, “Keep that up, Evan, and I'll show you how big and strong I really am?”

With a wicked glint in his eyes, Buck shuffled slightly forward on the kitchen bench, “T-Bone, like, chill...” before he broke character with a deep laugh and a completely unamused Tommy flicked soap buds at his face.

Soap bubbles clung to Buck’s cheeks and nose, which caught the kitchen light as his threw his head back, laughing harder now.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Tommy asked as he stepped closer, his smirk dangerous.

“Uh… m-maybe?Actually, no, definitely…” Buck said, as he raised an arm to try to swipe the soap away with the back of his hand, only for Tommy to catch his wrist. “Uh, hey now,” Buck squealed. 

Tommy leaned in close, his lips brushed gently over Buck’s cheek, then his jaw, deliberately slow, tasting the dish soap bubbles. Buck went still, his breath caught as Tommy kissed the bubbles right off his face, one by one.

“T-Tommy-” Buck moaned, the laughter giving way to seduction, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Mhmmm, come here” Tommy murmured against his skin, dragging his mouth along Buck’s soapy chin before finally claiming his lips in a real kiss, warm and lingering.

When he pulled back, Buck’s hazel eyes were shining. “You know,” he said, voice low, “you could’ve just handed me a towel.”

Tommy kissed him again,before replied “Uh-huh, and where’s the fun in that, Evan?”

**

Leaning as casually as he could against the still-warm bonnet of his baby, Rexie the WRX, Zach stared out at the lights of the city before checking his phone for the thousandth time. 

11:45 pm

The message from K.J. had said they would meet here at 11:00 pm, and to be honest, it was only Zach’s pride that kept him waiting because Zach did not get stood up. Fuck no, who would stand him up? You’d have to be crazy.

Like, Harley Quinn levels of crazy. Side note, Margot Robbie was fucking sexy, man. 

Anyway, he had sent K.J. four text messages and even tried ringing, which was risking getting into over-the-top clingy vibes, so he was just gonna chill for a bit. Besides, it was legit fine, it was a nice night, he had his phone, scrolling through insta thirsty traps and sending sick selfies on Snapchat. 

It was all good, really, it was. He had some gym selfies to upload, which of course, needed a wee bit of touch-up work before posting. Not too much, because he was already a snack, but god had blessed him with Photoshop, just to help out the failings of his iPhone camera. 

12:01 am

Clearly, K.J. had been abducted by aliens and was currently being experimented on, which was a shame but also, kinda hot to be honest, like with those probes and restraints - plus, it was the only logical reason as to why K.J. would suggest meeting up and only to end up ghosting him. 

Anyway, luckily Zach was chill as, so with a slight heave he pushed himself off the bonnet of Rexie and made his way to the driver's door when he saw the headlights of a car, and then, finally, a bright red Dodge Hell Cat pulled up next to him. 

“Dude, were you gonna ditch me, man? Rude, that’s so rude.” K.J. accused, climbing out of his car like he wasn’t a full hour late for their meeting that he arranged. 

Leaning against the side of the WRX now, with his hands resting on the roof, and his head resting on his hands, Zach tilted his head, pretending to be in deep thought, “Oh, I’m so sorry… except, ya know, the whole fact that you're, like, a full hour late. Sooo.”

“Dude, please, please don’t tell me you were one of those people who turned up to the party bang on nine at University.”

Zach made a slight noise, before he caught it, clearing his throat, “That is waaayy different, dude, you asked me to be here at eleven on the dot, I came here at eleven on the dot. Like, come on, bro, you didn’t even, like, hit me up to say ya were running late.”

“Woah, okay, relax mate.”

“Wild concept for ya, ‘running late’ is, like, a four-second text.” Zach countered.

The look that K.J. gave him made Zach wonder for a moment if he was overreacting, before K.J. smirked, “Dude, you’re not one of those people always checking their phone instead of living in the moment? I was with some friends, time ran over, and seriously, I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to be here bang on eleven when I said elevenish, so that might be on me, man.” 

Actually, Zach had been there at 10:45 pm because Tommy was all like ‘being late is disrespectful’ and ‘on time is actually 15 minutes early,’ and shit like that. Anyway, time to move on. 

“Uh-huh, sure, man.” Zach straightened. “So… are we doing this or am I gonna keep flirting with hypothermia here?”

K.J.’s grin sharpened. “Relax, Pretty Boy. I’m here now.” He flicked his chin towards Zach’s blue Subaru. “I have to be honest, I know I give ya shit because it’s Subbie, but it’s a nice car, those bright green brake callipers are pretty dope, man.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, bro, they’re like, cool, right? Do you like them?” Zach stuttered, looking down at the wheels of the Subaru with pride. 

“Hell yeah,” K.J. said, voice lower now, stepping into Zach’s space just enough to heat the air between them. “You’ve got good taste in cars. And, maybe… in company.”

Zach raised an eyebrow, heart thudding like the WRX on a cold start. “Bet”

Bet? Come on, Zach, that was such a stupid thing to say.

K.J.’s mouth curved. “Mm-hmm.” Then he bounced a little closer, close enough that their chests nearly brushed. His expression faltered, the smirk melting into something less cocky, more hesitant. “Hey, I… I wanted to say sorry for the other night. It’s just-” He exhaled hard, like he’d been holding something back. “-ah, nah, forget it. It’s stupid.”

Granted, Zach still wasn’t great with emotions and shit like that, but he tried his best ‘everything's okay’ head tilt, trying to keep his voice neutral. “Yo dawg, if you’re feelin’ it, say it. I’m not here to judge. Legit, King of No Judgement right here.”

K.J. shot him a skeptical look, like he didn’t quite buy that. So Zach shrugged and added, “Bro, in high school, I watched a girl eat three entire cheesecakes in the library during lunch. Didn’t even say a word. Just watched in awe. Like, damn, live your truth, dairy queen.”

That got a snort out of K.J., but his smirk turned curious. “Wait. Why were you in the library during lunch? No bro squad to hang with Pretty Boy?”

Zach rubbed the back of his neck as he struggled to come up with a cool answer to maintain his image.

“Uh, studying, probably, ya know.” Zach replied, chewing on his bottom lip, “I was, like, super popular in high school, just so ya know.” and K.J gave a small 'mmm' in response.

Right, time to get the conversation back on track, “But my man, the point is, like, if ya wanna get it off your chest, you can hit me up, no cringe bro.”

K.J. looked up at him through his lashes, eyes suddenly softer. “I just… I know the prank was kinda off. Okay, really off. But it was stupid Chad’s fault. My ex.”

“Ah,” Zach said. “There it is.”

“Yeah,” K.J. sighed. “Chad was a wet blanket. Total buzzkill. Like, the kind of guy who sighs when someone’s laughing too loud, ya know? He took everything so seriously. So I guess I was trying to see if you could just roll with something stupid. If you were… different.”

Zach's brows pulled together. “Different how?”

“You know. Chill. Not uptight. Not a drama llama. Not the type to freak out over a little… surprise, and sure, maybe I went a bit far with the test.. Although to be fair, I did assume you might, I dunno, wipe my cum off your stomach first, like a normal person.”

A chuckle escaped Zach’s mouth as he ducked his head, face heating up at the memory.

“Seriously, you were straight up glistening, like forget hickies,” K.J. added with a smirk.

Shaking his head, hoping he wasn’t as bright red as he felt, Zach tried to level K.J. with a stare, “And, you couldn’t have tested me in a way that didn’t, ya know, like, involve exposing me in front of your mates, especially...” Zach gestured at his chest. “Glistening?” 

K.J.'s eyes dropped, then lingered, unapologetically slow as he looked over Zach’s chest, almost like he could see through Zach’s tight black shirt. “Mmhmm. Yeah, see, that’s the problem. When you’ve got pecs like that, it’s practically a public service to show them off. You think I didn’t want my boys to see what I was pulling?”

Zach leaned forward, voice rising an octave. “So you were...” he coughed to try and lower his voice back to normal and not like some squeaky teenage boy, “Uh, showing me off?”

K.J.’s voice was pure heat as he grinned widely. “Damn right I was. Why wouldn’t I want my friends to know I’ve got a pretty boy who could bench press me and make me forget my name? You’re a total catch, Zach.”

Zach smirked, heart hammering now. “Careful. Keep talking like that, and I will bench press you. Just to prove a point.”

“Oh, please do, pretty boy,” K.J. said, biting his bottom lip. “Preferably while I’m naked.”

“Wait, wait, wait hold up a sec here, mate, I’m sorry, but were you apologising to me or flirting with me?”

K.J. grinned, that cocky tilt of his lips making it impossible to tell if he was being serious or just that smooth. “Why not both? Multitasking, babe. I’m talented like that.”

Then, out of nowhere, he reached down and slid his hand into Zach’s, almost casual, like it was nothing, like they always did this. In return, Zach tried really hard not to flinch at how warm and steady it felt. His heart absolutely did not skip a beat at the contact because Zach was not a basic bitch. 

“But real talk,” K.J. added, voice dipping, less smug now. “I do want them to like you. My friends. It’s dumb, I know, but… bro code and all that. Shit matters.”

Zach ducked his head, heat crawling up his neck like a rising tide. He cleared his throat hard, trying to shove the blush back down. “So you, uh… like, wanted them to think I was cool?”

“Obviously,” K.J. said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “If I’m planning on asking you to dinner, I’d rather not have my group chat lighting up with ‘bro why him?’”

Zach’s eyes flicked up. “Dinner, huh?”

With a smug and somewhat sexy smirk, K.J. put an arm on Zach’s chest again, “We can discuss dinner deets later...”

His eyes locked onto Zach’s, dark and promising. “But first, there’s something else I’ve been thinking about. Something I really wanna try. And I’ve got a feeling you’ll be into it.”

Zach licked his lips, playing up the bravado like his life depended on it. “Oh yeah? What kinda something we talking, here?”

K.J. leaned in, lips brushing the edge of Zach’s ear as he whispered, “By any chance… do you wanna get blown in the back of your car?”

Zach scoffed, rolling his eyes at the question, “Of course, dude, doesn’t every guy-oh-oooh” and then a pause as his brain caught up with him, and he bit his lip far too hard, “Uh, Fuck yeah, bro…. I mean, yeah, I’m, like so down.”

K.J. chuckled, pulling back just enough to see the look on Zach’s face, all wide-eyed and barely-contained hunger.

“Good,” he murmured, as he ran his hand along the front of Zach’s shirt, tracing the outline of his six pack through the fabric. “Because I’ve been thinking about having your cock in my mouth since the second you complained about me running a little late, for real, I thought I bet he wouldn’t be sulking if I was doing that thing with my tongue, in the back of his lil blue toy.”

“Lil blue toy?” Zach repeated incredulously as he patted the roof of the WRX. “N’awww, there’s nothing lil about me, or Rexie.” Zach winked with a smug smirk as he cocked his head to the side. 

And then Zach was the one who closed the gap, as he grabbed K.J. by the collar and crashed their mouths together in a messy and hungry kiss, teeth clashing. His hands roamed low, gripping tight at K.J.’s hips as though to drag him closer still, while K.J. shoved Zach back against the cool metal of the WRX.

He groaned into the kiss, half from the coldness of the car at his back and half from the heat building between them. He pulled back just enough to breathe, and Zach licked his lips and whispered with a grin that was all cocky arrogance  “Well, well, well, guess you’re about to find out firsthand that Rexie here isn’t the only one built for performance.”

“Good god, your dirty talk is terrible.” K.J laughed as he rested his forehead against Zach’s.

“Please, my dirty talk is legendary.” Zach joked back, as he grinded his hips against K.J’s and brushed his lips over K.J’s jawline.

“Ah-ha, you’re lucky that you're good looking.” 

“Uh, then I guess the question is…” Zach let his hand trail dangerously slow down K.J.’s chest, “...how fast can you make me shut up?”

And then K.J., smug bastard that he was, just tugged him toward the car with a wicked grin. “Backseat.”

**

Sweaty, and sticky in the backseat of the WRX, with something sore pressing into his back, Zach lay there with K.J. lying on his chest, just enjoying the moment. The one issue with one night stands in the past is after the magic you’re meant to get dressed and like, leave straight away but post actions cuddles were actually pretty damn good. 

Zach was pretty sure he could stay like this forever, or at least until the sun came up and he had to go to work, although by that stage he was aware he might be permanently stuck to K.J.

He let a hand absentmindedly pet K.J’s hair, like he was a cat in his lap, only slightly larger and heavier. Also, he would never have done that with a cat. Wait, was that a weird thought to have?

“So, seven tomorrow?” K.J. mumbled into his chest, as Zach tilted his head down puzzled for a moment.

“Seven?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking we hit Vee-Ate,” K.J. said, stretching until his elbow connected with Zach’s nose.

“Bro! Ow!” Zach groaned, clutching his face and rubbing his sore nose.

“Oh shit, sorry, Zachy.” K.J. smirked, not sounding sorry at all. “Anyway, does that sound good or does it sound good?”

Zach frowned. “V8?” as in the car engine? Something was missing in translation. 

“Fuck boy, you’re lucky you’re pretty,” K.J. muttered, rolling his eyes. “Vee-Ate. As in the restaurant. Car-themed, vintage cars all over the place?” He rolled over, snagging Zach’s discarded shirt off the floor to wipe the mess between them. “And you dare call yourself a car guy.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen that place,” Zach clicked, perking up. “Neon piston sign out front, right?” Then, frowning as K.J. dragged his shirt over his stomach: “Dude. I was gonna wear that again.”

K.J. shrugged and dropped the now-stained shirt to the floor of the WRX with zero remorse.

“That’s the one,” K.J. replied, sitting up a little, his eyes lighting up in a way Zach hadn’t seen before. “But please, please tell me that you know it’s not just a restaurant, right? For real, the old geezer who owns it? A massive collector, he has rows and rows of classics; I’m talking ’69 Charger, ’67 Mustang Fastback, an old Testarossa…”

“But does he have a WRX, bro?” Zach cut in teasingly, 

“No, Zach, because unlike you, he has taste.” K.J. replied, unimpressed.

“The disrespect, while you're inside Rexie, that’s diabolical for sure, unacceptable even,” Zach added.

K.J. smirked, “Like I’ve said before, like car, like driver… but anyway, as I was saying before, some loser interrupted me, he’s even got memorabilia from Le Mans, signed pit helmets, vintage rally jackets. The place is insane.”

Zach chuckled to himself. “Woah, calm down my man, you sound way too hyped up right now about a restaurant, like, a burger is a burger bro.”

K.J. grinned, unapologetic. “Car guy, remember? My dad used to take me to muscle car meets every weekend. Vee-Ate’s like Disneyland for me.”

Zach leaned back, pretending to give it thought before he scoffed. “Ah, sure, Disneyland without the rides? Gotta be honest with ya king, sounds more like a museum…”

“Fine, fine, whatever…. guess I won’t mention the F-11 Tiger jet in the backyard then,” K.J. said smugly.

Zach shot upright at that. “Hold the hell up. A jet? Like, a jet jet?”

“In the flesh, baby,” K.J. said, clearly enjoying the reveal. “You can sit in the cockpit, pose beside it…although, tragically, at least for you, I think you’d have to keep your shirt on, sorry, Pretty Boy.”

“Okay, rude…” Zach muttered.

“Hmm, is it rude or is it true,” K.J. said thoughtfully. “Exhibit A: your entire very vain Insta profile, you look like an OnlyFans model, not a firefighter, for real. Exhibit B: every time we’ve met, you’ve managed to take your clothes off in under five minutes. Absolutely no self-control.”

Zach smirked, leaning back with zero shame. “First of all, thank you. Second, don’t pretend you’re mad about it.”

“Ha, so seven tomorrow?” K.J confirmed, grabbing his own shirt.

“Sure, but uh, let’s be real for a sec, when you say seven, you mean seven seven right?”

Rolling his eyes as he pulled his shirt on, K.J. sighed like Zach was being unreasonable, “Yes dude, because it’s a dinner rezzy isn’t it. Who are you even? Mussolini?”

Clicking his tongue, Zach cocked his head to the side, “Sorry, who?”

“Mussolini? Obsessed with the time? Made the trains run on time?” K.J. prompted.

“Like, the train down the coast to San Diego or do ya mean like the lil ones that go around the suburbs? Like, I dunno man, I drive everywhere. Hashtag sorry, climate change.”

K.J. covered his face with both hands, muffling a laugh. “Oh my god, you absolute himbo.” and before Zach could counter, K.J. kissed him deeply and got out of the car, jumping into his Hellcat and purred off back down the road. 

As Zach sat in the back of his car in just his boxers, looking down at his cum covered tee shirt, he sighed deeply, “Ya know, maybe I should vote for this Mussolini guy, we need better public transport in L.A”

**

The next morning at Harbour, Zach was on cloud nine.

Tommy, and Lucy however were not so excited.

As Tommy pulled his work boots on, he turned up and looked at Zach, “Hold up, did you say he was an hour late?”

“No, T-bone, chill, he was just, like…” Zach struggled to find the words, “Look, I misunderstood, I thought he meant, like, eleven but he actually meant to was, ya know, elevenish… right?”

“Right…” Tommy said slowly as Zach scowled.

“Come on, T-bone, remember, we listen and we don’t…” he gestured for Tommy to the finish the sentence with ‘we don’t judge’

Instead, Lucy cut in, “We don’t understand? We don’t expect better?”

Zach’s scowled deepened, “You two are just sour cats..” he clicked his fingers together, “Lucky then you got me, huh? To brighten your world…”

A silent prayer, and after he pinched the bridge of his nose, Tommy shook his head, “Of all the worlds that we are blessed with Zach, I dunno if I would choose brighten to describe the impact you’ve had on my life.”

Tommy should have known better, because Zach simply wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Yo, T–bone, that’s so sweet of you to say, bro, and I want you to know you’ve touched me too, deeply.”

Lost for words, Tommy shrugged Zach off him, as Lucy grinned, “Huh, so Tommy, does Buck know you’ve touched Zach… deeply?”

Zach glared at Lucy, “Damn Juicy, you don’t have to make everything ,like, dirty, ya know. We were having a moment…”

Dumbfounded, Lucy just stared at Tommy for a beat, “Oh, mmm, roger that Anderson, I’m sorry for making things dirty… have you heard of pot, kettle, black?”

“Nahh bro, but no cap, sounds kinda racist, like that might getcha cancelled.” 

**

Some calls just suck.

They were attending a call out to a college dorm, where a smoke alarm had given a false fire alarm, which in itself was boring, but as the 217 crew was packing up, Tommy just happened to glance over and feel the frustration hit him like a train.

Across the field from where they are parked, Tommy could see a group of young people, teenagers, and in the car they have a lit scented candle. Which is stupid, and dangerous. 

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “For the love of Reese's pieces, you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

He muttered something under his breath and started across the grass. Behind him, Lucy called out, “Oi, where are you wandering off to, Kinard?”

Tommy just grunted. “To save the youth of tomorrow from being complete idiots.”

“Evening,” Tommy said, voice calm but firm. “You kids realize an open flame in a car is a real bad idea, right? That’s how fires start.”

The four teens turned to look at him, unimpressed.

The girl in the passenger seat rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. “Bruh, it’s literally a Bath & Body Works candle. Chill.”

The boy in the backseat, wearing a hoodie three sizes too big, snorted. “No cap, you’re giving like major ‘I’m about to write a Facebook rant’ energy.”

Tommy’s jaw tightened. “You’ve got upholstery, plastics, synthetic fabrics in here. All it takes is a knock, a spill, and you’ll have more fire than you can handle. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

“Okay, Boomer,” another kid chimed in from the back, barely glancing up from TikTok on his phone. “You’re literally pressed over vibes. It’s giving… dusty firefighter who doesn’t understand self-care.”

“Yeah,” the first girl added, smirking. “It’s an aesthetic, old man. Like, aromatherapy? Ever heard of it? We’re literally raising the vibe frequency.”

Tommy took a long, steady breath through his nose. “What you’re raising is the risk of a car fire. You want vibes? Buy an air freshener.”

“Brooo,” hoodie boy dragged the word out, laughing. “L plus ratio plus touch grass. Can you even imagine trying to gatekeep candles boomer?”

The driver, who was a kid with bleached tips and designer sunglasses, finally spoke up. “Look, Chief, we got this, okay. If it tips, we’ll just blow it out. It’s literally not that deep. Stop trying to justify your wages by making problems.”

Tommy let the comment bounce off him, reacting was pointless. “Look, I’ve pulled kids out of cars who said the same thing. You don’t get a do-over with fire, I’m just saying, light scented candle, confined space, not the best move you could be making.”

The driver smirked, leaning back with faux swagger. “That sounds like a you problem, my guy.”

The whole car erupted in “ooooohs,” like they’d just witnessed some devastating roast.

“So how about you skibidi right outta here, like some sad rizzless NPC.” The driver added, as the girl in the front seat nodded.

“Yeah, honestly you’re, like, literally cooked,” the girl sneered. “Go cry about it somewhere far away from us, Boomer.”

Tommy stood there, stone-faced, letting their noise bounce off him. He’d been called worse, by men twice their size in situations ten times more dangerous. But it still burned that they couldn’t see past their own smugness to the danger they were putting themselves in.

Still, you can lead a horse to water, you can’t make it drink it.

But then, trouble arrived in the form of, “Yo, that is, like, absolutely wild when an expert is trying to stop your dumbasses from burning to death.” Zach said, trying (and failing) to defend Tommy’s honour, which was not at risk

“Ewww, no one asked, old man,” The girl replied, “We don’t need your background character energy messing up our vibes.”

“Old?” Zach stuttered, “Old? I’m, like, only twenty four…”

“Okay, gross,” the driver said. “Didn’t ask. Don’t care. Go touch grass.”

“Like we need two grown men mansplaining fire to us, I have two degrees loser.” Someone called out from the back. “I don’t need to listen to some Temu Fireman Sam and his sidekick try and shame my emotional support candle.”

“Oh, dawg, you better take several seats, because your ‘L’ is gonna cost you more than your car if you don’t listen to my man Tommy here and stop being such-”

Tommy grabbed Zach by the jacket and pulled him away as the teenagers hollered and jeered at them. 

Tommy slammed Zach against the firetruck, just out of sight and managed to both yell and whisper, "Shut the fuck up right now, do you hear me? Shut up and get in the truck."

"What the actual fuck man, you're mad at me?" Zach whined, straining against Tommy hold.

"Do you trust me?" Tommy demanded, holding Zach easily in place against the truck.

"That-" Zach started.

"Answer me, do you trust me? Yes or No." Tommy repeated forcefully.

"Well, of course." Zach complained, rolling his head back, where it hit the truck with a light thud, "But-"

"No but, I do not care what those people say to us, when we wear this uniform we do not get into arguments or fights with the public okay?"

"But they were being disrespectful as fuck, man."

"Doesn't matter to us, so you are going to shut your mouth, you're going to sit in the truck with your head down and you are not going to say anything. And if you see anything online, you are not going to comment on it. Got it?" Tommy ordered.

"Tom-"

"I said, have you got it?" Tommy growled.

"Yes, fine, whatever." Zach whined as Tommy kept him pinned against the truck, "Are you gonna let me go now? or is this the start of a porno-"

Tommy let go of Zach, straightening his jacket for him. "Sit in the truck, calm down and think of how you're going to explain that outburst to the Cap"

"They were-"

"Without blaming someone else, you're an adult and you're wearing the LAFD uniform. Act like you deserve to wear it." Tommy stated, before giving Zach a small, tired smile, "I get it, okay, we're only human but we're professionals. We can't let them wear us down or they win, okay?"

Zach grunted.

“Do you understand me?” Tommy asked, trying to pin Zach with a look as Zach looked away into the distance. “Anderson, do you understand me?”

“Fine, whatever, but they were being total cunts and you know it.” Zach snapped, “And-”

“Anderson, listen to me, water off a ducks back okay, you can not let it get you down, because you won’t win, they will, go sit in the truck and calm down. Speak to no one.” Tommy ordered. “Now, Anderson.”

**

The Captain folded his arms as he looked at Tommy, Zach, and Lucy, clearly unimpressed with the complaint to the L.A.F.D headquarters as he gave all three the best ‘if looks could kill’ glare.  “Anyone want to explain to me what happened out there?”

Zach shrank back in his seat, trying for casual but coming off like a kid caught sneaking in past curfew.  “So, get this, Cap’, some teenagers were being, like, straight-up lil bitches to us. Which, need I say, rude and ya know, totz uncalled for. And, yeah, I did kinda snap back at them. That’s on me, I’ll eat that L. So, uh, sorry for letting you and the team down. My bad, I’ll try to be more zen next time, for real.”

Tommy, sitting stiff in his chair, thankful that for once it wasn’t him that was in trouble, added dryly, “Anderson says he’s sorry for causing a scene.”

“Yes, I got that, thank you, Kinard,” the Captain replied, not even glancing at him as he paced the room “No one deserves to be harassed or attacked while doing their job. But as members of the L.A.F.D., we have to be above that. We rise above, even when they don’t. That said…” he turned sharply to Zach “...Anderson, I am man enough to admit, I’m impressed by your accountability.”

Zach’s eyes widened and a dopey grin spread over his face as he sat up slightly straighter. “Wait, like, impressed-impressed? Or ‘you’re still in trouble but not as much as you could be’ impressed? Ya know, coz legit the difference is important”

The Captain ignored him, gaze flicking toward Tommy.  “Well done Kinard, that’s not something I expected from the hot-headed probie I had eight months ago.”

Zach leaned forward, throwing his hands up. “Okay, but to be fair, sir, they were absolute assholes. Like, premium, top-shelf, Costco-bulk-pack assholes. The kind you gotta buy in bulk ‘cause the regular size just doesn’t cover how much of an asshole they were. But… yeah. I’ll own my part.”

Both Tommy and Lucy cringed at the phrasing, but the Captain snorted before snapping his stoic mask back into place.  “Maybe so, Anderson, but in the future I expect you to be the bigger man. Am I clear?”

“As clear as your skin, Cap. Honestly, what’s your skincare routine? Because you’re, like, glowing right now-”

“Anderson.” The Captain’s tone was firm and signaled his desire to end the conversation. “Do not make me regret not firing you.”

“Bro…” Zach muttered, slumping back in his chair.

“Captain,” the Captain corrected, unimpressed “Or Cap’,”. He turned to Tommy and Lucy. “Kinard, Donato, please leave, and take Anderson with you before I change my mind.”

Lucy stood immediately. Tommy muttered, “Gladly.”

Zach, still in his seat, threw up his hands. “What? I was being accountable and complimentary. That’s growth T-Bone! Kinda like a boner when it sees a-”

Tommy clipped the back of Zach’s head, “Zach, by any chance do you think before you speak?”

Zach bit his lip, deep in thought, “Yo, like, I legit don’t get whatcha mean, but honestly getting casted as the villain twice in one day is ice-cold T-bone.” 

**

Standing in the locker room, Lucy whacked Zach as she coughed, choking on his deodorant, “I swear to god, Anderson, when I can breathe again.” 

Zach sniffed the air, before he frowned, “Chill Juicy, what’s the big deal dawg?”

Lucy bent down, snatched the offending can of Axe body spray off the bench, and shook it threateningly. “This is going so far up you, you’ll be walking funny for a week.”

Unbothered, Zach flexed at the mirror as he checked himself out, “Well, I mean, hopefully after tonight…” and he winked at Lucy. 

Lucy groaned as she finished putting her belongings in her bag. “You’re insufferable, you know that right?”

“Nah,” Zach shot back “You love me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lucy flung her bag onto her back, and didn’t bother to look at Zach, “I love action films, Mexican food and flying. As for you, I tolerate you.” 

Zach grinned at himself in the mirror. “Yeah, she loves me, can’t even blame her though.” and he flexed his biceps. 

**

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Zach groaned. His hair wouldn’t sit right, his jawline looked tragic under this lighting, and the outfit he’d hyped himself up about ten minutes ago now screamed try-hard. 

He needed something that said ‘this, oh I threw this on as I left’ not ‘I’ve spent an hour trying to look cool.’ Like, naturally Zach was effortlessly cool, right, which is why he had to put so much effort into looking like he was effortlessly cool. 

Eventually through, he gave up the fight with himself, and opted to get a second, neutral opinion from a wise old man.

Hence why Zach stomped down the hall until he found Tommy tucked away in a small workspace, hunched over a department laptop from the stone ages, methodically finishing up monthly reports for the Captain.

“Daddy-T, I need you.”

Without missing a keystroke, Tommy replied back smoothly, “Shh, kitten, Daddy’s working right now.”

The words hit like a truck. Zach froze mid-stride, lips parting, brain short-circuited. For two glorious, golden seconds there was only stunned silence. Then…

“Oh. Uh. T-Bone… it’s me.” Zach stuttered out, clearly caught off guard by the comment. 

Tommy finally glanced up, as he fought back a grin. Zach’s face was beet-red, ears practically glowing. “I know it’s you, Zach. What do you want?”

Zach rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, right, cool, cool, cool. I was just gonna ask…” He trailed off, bit his bottom lip before he blurted, “Hold up, king, so you, like, actually called me kitten?”

“Indeed, I did.” Tommy leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers with mock-seriousness. “But to be fair, you called me Daddy first. So really, I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

Zach rolled his eyes so hard they nearly rattled. “Oh no bro, that’s legit not cool. You can’t just ,like, weaponize my own vibe against me like that. What would Buck say?”

Tommy smirked. “Mmm, Buck would probably say it’s about time someone turned the tables on you.” He let the pause drag long enough for Zach to squirm before adding, “So, kitten, what can I help you with?”

Zach groaned loudly, as he flopped dramatically down onto the chair opposite Tommy like his soul had been crushed. “You’re evil, old man. Pure evil, you know that right? Like, I’m having a menty breakdown here for real, and you’re being a...”

“Mmm, sorry, I’m not clear what’s happening here, are you asking for my help or whining?” 

“Damn boy, T-bone, you’re salty today, for real… but legit, I need some ,like, advice, like, gay dudes have good fashion sense right? You’re like a gay yoda for clothes?” 

Tommy did not dignify it with a response.

Zach continued, “Right-” and put his phone in Tommy’s face, “- option A, light blue jeans, white tee and my very cool, black leather jacket… or , option B, black jeans, black tee, gold chain and a blue denim jacket?” 

Tommy squinted at the phone screen Zach had shoved practically up his nose. “Kid, you ever heard of personal space?”

That suggestion was promptly ignored as Zach took the phone back, and looked at the screen “Maybe I should wear like a suit instead, or is that too posh?”

“Option A, you can’t go wrong with a fresh white T.” Tommy stated simply, before he rubbed his jawline, “And-” he reluctantly added, “White suits you.”

“Really?”

“You asked for my advice.” Tommy answered, “Take it or leave it.”

“Chur, you’re, like, a lifesaver my man.” Zach grinned as he jumped out of the chair with all the energy of a man far too young to be hanging out with Tommy. “I owe you, no cap king.” 

“Honestly, I wish you didn’t sometimes.” Tommy muttered. “Go, have fun, and wear protection.”

Zach bounced by the door, “For real, I can’t preggers, ya know?”

“That’s not the only reason people wear-” Tommy started, but Zach was already gone, as Tommy sighed deeply, and rubbed his head for a moment. “-Why do I even try?” he muttered to himself, as he turned his attention back to his reports.

**

Pulling up at Six Forty-Five, Zach was shocked to see K.J. already waiting out front of the restaurant. 

“Well, Mussolini, are you impressed?” K.J. called out with a sexy smirk, baseball cap backwards, red singlet and baseball shorts on, “Damn, Pretty Boy, did ya get dressed up for our dinner? Damn boy, you lookin’ fly.”

“Oh, this…” Zach looked down at his fit like it was nothing, and he had not spent forever thinking it over in the locker room at harbour, and then got advice from Tommy, “...is nothing, like, I threw it together in, like, five minutes dude. Just, ya know, keeping it casual.”

“Cool, well, let’s get a drink while we wait for the table to become free,”

Just after seven, the table came free and they sat opposite each other, and threw back some fires as they chatted away. 

“You’re not my normal kinda guy, to be honest with ya, Pretty Boy.” K.J. mentioned casually.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I don’t tend to go for slutty guys,” K.J. explained nonchalantly as he smashed back some more chips. 

“Slutty?” Zach repeated, shocked, “Yo, are you for real?”

K.J. shrugged, “Calm ya farm, no offence Zachy, it’s just, everyone knows bi guys are just sluts to start with-”

“Honestly, that’s not cool bro, my mate Buck… well, he used to be, but he’s not anymore… and what’s wrong with sex. Everyone wants to fuck,”

“Oh, for real, no lie there, but I just personally tend to go with guys who are…” K.J. waved his hands in lieu of an answer, “Don’t get me wrong, I like you, you’re fun, hot, into cars…”

“Nah, nah, pause. Did you legit just soft-launch an insult at me mid-fry? Bro, that’s wild.”

K.J. chuckled. “Don’t get dramatic, maybe I need a bad boy in my life?”

Zach narrowed his eyes, lips twitched as he clicked his tongue. “Ah ha. I see, I see. So what is it then, am I a bad boy or a slutty boy?”

“Why can’t ya be both, Pretty Boy?” K.J. teased. 

With a shrug, Zach shot K.J. a smile as he chewed it over, was it really any different to being called a fuck boy or a frat boy, or himbo? 

“Hold up, are you telling me that you aren’t a player, the Hell Cat, the fit? The ‘u up’ text the other night.” Zach pressed back, taking a long sip on his drink.

“The fit?” K.J. asked.

“Legit, you invite me to a dinner date and rock up in a baseball shorts and a singlet? Like that’s not giving serious dating, that’s giving we’re gonna smash in the disabled stall.” Zach continued, “Like, you gonna press me on my history?”

“Wow, okay, take a seat buddy, because I’m not here for being judged on how I choose to dress, and also, relax, I like ya bad boy vibes, I’m here for a little bit of messy.” K.J. laughed.

“Oh wow, I’ll show you messy, just you wait.” Zach shot back with a grin. 

**

“So, anyway,” K.J continued, half a burger in his hands, “My fam is catholic as fuck, so I have like four brothers and three sisters, and nana calling every weekend asking if I’m gonna go to church and I’m like Nana, please, I don’t care how hot the Priest is, I’m not coming to mass.”

“Maths?” Zach asked around a fistful of fries, hand half covering his mouth as he chewed. 

“Mass, you know, the church service, with the holy water and the cheap biscuit that represents letting Jesus into your body,” K.J winked at Zach, “So what about you, Zachy, you got any family I need to be wary of?”

K.J took a large, messy bite of his burger as Zach rolled his shoulders, “Yeah man, so I have three half brothers…”

“Half brothers? Messy ‘rents like the rest of us?”

“Ahh, well…” Zach started, as he unconsciously rubbed his cheek.

“Wait a sec, was your mom the home wrecker or the home wreckee? Like who came first?”

There was a just a slight moment (maybe longer) where Zach almost lost his cool, but he grunted, and shuffled in his seat, “My father chose to cheat on his wife, and he was her boss…” he gritted out, “So, bro, these days I think we would call it, like, me too…” and now the moment seemed way to heavy, so Zach threw on the end “...or some shit like that, ya know.”

“Oh, my bad, Zach, I didn’t mean-”

Zach cut in “-but, like, anyway, it honestly doesn’t even matter right? For real, my step mom Barbara loves money and the spotlight too much to care. Hash tag vain bitch… shit, I mean, she’s not a bitch bitch, just… ya know… anyway, fam, am I right?”

“Indeed.” K.J replied, as he slurped on his drink, “Fam sucks, for real, sooo all your half bro’s on your dad side?”

“Well, given Mom died in birth with me, I’d go with yes….” Zach replied casually as he played with the fries on his plate. 

“Woah, like, okay you definitely need a trigger warning before discussing your fam man, that’s crazy… not like, anyway, damn. I’m sorry.”

“Meh, you didn’t know.” Zach shrugged it off, as he leant forward and slouched over the table, used a fork to poke at some left over fries (and why they gave them knives and forks for a burger, he had no idea)

“Ah-nah,but for real man, I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot before, with my joke... ”

“Nah man, it’s fine.” Zach lied, “ya didn’t know, anyway…” he grabbed his drink to have something to play with, “All I really know is that Mom was beautiful, and funny, which she kindly passed down to me, deff do not get it from my father side, no cap.”

“Oh, you are very beautiful, Pretty Boy.” K.J teased lightly, as he chewed on his drink straw.

“Okay, okay, I know I said beautiful, but you legit could have called me handsome, no? Like, I’m manly right?”

“I’ll call you many things,” K.J smiled back. “You okay though? You're not gonna cry in the bathroom or something?”

Zach threw a fry at K.J’s head. “Dickhead.”

**

“Safer question,” K.J. said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Strangest place you’ve gotten naked?”

Zach blew a slow raspberry and glanced around the diner with its chrome trim, a sun-faded poster of a ’67 Fastback and neon signs cluttering the walls. “What makes you so sure I’ve gotten naked somewhere ‘strange’ in the first place?”

K.J simply gave him a look.

“Hmm, ahh fine, I mean, there’s the classic’s right, like the nature trails, beach, Burger King or those ‘do it yourself carwashes’.... Oh, probably the open home… yeah, that got me in a bit of trouble, to be honest… couple of mates dared me to try the shower and then nicked my stuff… totz awkward.”

K.J laughed, before he cleared his throat, “Well, I mean the realtor could, like, said you were part of the display, I guess? I mean, at least you’re like, you and not some fat old creep, right?”.

“Cheers man, but nah, that was a hard pass,” Zach confessed. “She straight up called the cops on me. For real, talk about over reaction, right? She was not chill.”

Right then the waiter slid in with two towering sundaes. “Here we are, fellas.”

“Cheers, my man,” Zach said, grateful for the save and the double hot caramel fudge sundae goodness. 

“Rude,” K.J. muttered then realized he’d said it out loud and looked up. “Oh, not you, my good man.I mean, that Sundae looks elite. Cheers mate.”

“You know, this looks almost as tasty as you.” Zach said, as he licked the spoon slowly before he caught eyes with the waiter who was in the middle of clearing the table. “Oh, sorry man, I didn’t mean ya… although, not to say you’re not, like, uhh…”

The waiter gave them both the side eye before he nodded politely and disappeared back to the safety of the kitchen. 

“Right, well that was totz awkward.” Zach sighed, with a small laugh as K.J doubled over with laughter. 

“So where were we before you tried to hit on our waiter?” K.J asked, in mock thought.

“Oh, you mean before you insulted him, he’s earned his tip tonight.” Zach mused.

“Okay, but I’ll give it to him, I don’t think he wants yours.” 

“Dickhead.” Zach grinned, “Oh, that’s right, you were sharing your dirty lil secrets with me, so level with me, where is the strangest place you’re ended up complete nekkid.” 

“Oh, man, I’m sorry to sound so boring, but I’m innocent compared to you.” K.J replied bashfully, “Just an indoors kinda guy.”

“My car disagrees with you.” Zach pointed out with a grin.

“Huh, well, first, I wasn’t naked, second I did say I wanted to try something.” K.J clarified, before he licked his spoon slowly in a way that did things to Zach’s pants. 

“Fine, where’s somewhere you wanna get naked then, if we live a lil?” Zach repackaged the question, and hoped for a more interesting response. 

K.J. thought, then smiled crooked. “Rooftop pool with a view over the city, and those glass walls, ya know, like those expensive hotels have. At golden hour. No audience, except a special someone.”

“Hot,” Zach said, before he sucked on the cherry from the sundae, rolling it on his tongue. It was meant to be sexy, hopefully. 

“And yours?” K.J asked, as if Zach hadn’t told him the open home story like thirty seconds ago.

“I already went.”

“Uh-nuh,” K.J. wagged his spoon. “You told me where you got naked, but not somewhere you’d like to get naked… gotta get future date ideas.”

Zach tapped his spoon against the glass bowl. “Ahh, a convertible at sunset on an empty road out in the desert…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Rexie.” K.J snorted, “Does sound kinda romantic in a wild west kinda away, until some outlaw kidnaps you.”

**

In the carpark, after dinner, K.J. straddled Zach against the bonnet of the WRX, hands sliding casually to the hood on either side of him. The cool metal pressed against Zach’s back, his pride and joy behind him, and K.J.’s cocky grin in front.

“Well, I had a good time,” K.J. said, leaned in, voice low.

“So did I… y’know, apart from when someone decided to call me a slut,” Zach shot back, folding his arms across his chest like he was immune to the closeness, even though his pulse was doing cartwheels. “Altho, no cap, that burger did make up for it, and the Jet.”

Zach scrolled through his phone to look at the thousands of selfies he had taken in front of the Jet for insta. 

“Shesh,” K.J. teased, as he tilted his cap back with one finger. “Well Zachy, they do say the truth hurts.”

“If I wanted to be judged by some asshole in a Hellcat, I would have jumped on reddit.” Zach scoffed, with an eye roll. “Oh, and for the record, I’m not buying the sweet n innocent act you're trying to pull there.” 

“Act?” K.J. questioned, as he leaned back and stretched, “Dunno what you mean.” 

“Uh huh,” Zach drawled, as he poked K.J.'s chest with one finger. “Sure bro.”

K.J pulled away, and cocked his head slightly with a grin, “Sorry to ditch ya, but I gotta bounce” he gave Zach a light shoulder tap, “I’ll see ya around, maybe this weekend, there’s a rock concert down Irvine way, you know what they say, be there or be square.”

**

Cassidy slid along the kitchen bench, knocking over some recycling that had been making it’s way to the recycling bin for about a week. “So, how was the date? Did he put out… did you put out?” he bounced on the heels of his feet for a cool minute, “Wait, do I want to know?”

Zach grabbed a half drunk powerade from the fridge and looked at it suspiciously “Yours, or mine?”

“Oh, it could be Franks, to be honest.”

“Eh.” Zach replied, and took a gulp of it, “Umm, so….”

“So.” Cassidy mocked, picking up the takeaway menu off the counter and started to screw it up in a redundant attempt to tidy the counter.

“Oi, put that back.” Zach snapped, before he finished off the powerade and biffed it at the bin, “They do the second best kebabs… and, like, I know it’s still early days with K.J right? Like, we’ve had what, one proper date, but…”

“But?” Cassidy asked.

Zach slouched against the fridge, and mused over the answer. To be fair, K.J didn’t know his Mom was dead, or the complicated history, so that was probably on him. On the pro side, K.J was hot, liked cars and gave amazing head. 

“He’s fun, and totz hot, right?”

“I’m comfortable enough in my skin to admit that yes, your date is hot as fuck… which, honestly is amazing, I’ve seen some of girls you’ve brought back here….” Cassidy agreed with a small head shake. “Fun and hot, great for hook ups…”

“Exactly, and I kinda feel that’s what he expects from me, ya know, but like, we could be more, for real.”

“Ah ha, and if you’re feeling more, why do you think he’s not?”

Zach ducked his head, “Well, he called me a slut… or said he doesn’t usually talk to slutty guys.”

“Huh, and does he know your success rate? Because he might not call you slut if he saw how often you left the club alone with just a saggy kebab.” Cassidy said, as if he was being helpful. “Did that hurt your feelings?”

“What? No… like, I’m pro-slut.”

“So am I, brother, sluts are man’s best friend.” Cassidy held out a fist; Zach tapped it. “So?”

Zach’s shoulders dropped. “Man, I dunno. How do I convince him that, like, I’m serious?”

Cassidy tilted their head. “Are you serious?”

Zach opened his mouth and then closed it, before he stared at the ceiling, at the crack that kinda looked like Florida. “Yeah,” he said, quieter than usual. “I think I am. Like, I kinda want… the boring good stuff, ya know. Not like, dusty museums or sexless marriage, but like, post sex cuddles and plotting day off adventures with one person, ya feel me?”

“Lit.” Cassidy replied, “So, I dunno if you know this Zach, but you can try something called talking, it’s handy for situations like this.”

**

The next morning Tommy found Zach actually doing work, or at least looking like he was doing some work. Regardless, Tommy was slightly impressed.

“Good morning Anderson.” Tommy said, kneeling next to Zach, “So, how did the big date go?”

“Daddy-T, looking as manly as ever, the date? Last night’s date? Yeah bro, it was great and we didn’t even fuck.”

Thirty seconds. Please, one day make it thirty seconds without barrelling full speed past the line.

“Mhmm, well thanks for the update, so you enjoyed the restaurant?”

“Dude, it was amazing, all these cool, old cars… okay, gotta be real, kinda boring, like they’re machines T-bone, machines, they’re not designed to sit around, getting all dusty… although, real talk, they were fucking shiny, like, that old man must spend so much time on his knees.. Anyway, oh! They had a jet, that was kinda cool…”

“Sounds great, and K.J.? How was he?”

“Fuck me, man, he’s like hot right? Like you’ve seen him?” Zach said, sitting up like a puppy, almost complete with wagging tail and tongue out. “He’s cool, we’re actually gonna hang this weekend, at a rock concert, so, ya know, that’s cool. We’re not like, dating dating, but we’re… ya know?”

“Right.”

“Yo, real talk, there’s nothing wrong with being a slut right?” Zach asked, and you would think after all this time, nothing would catch Tommy off guard but it still did. 

“The word slut is offensive, and you shouldn’t use it, if a woman chooses to have multiple partners, it’s none of your business.” Tommy said firmly. 

“N’awww, dawg, I know that, bro… I meant like, what if a guy was a slut?”

“Are you upset with how many partners K.J. has had?” Tommy asked, tilting his head as Zach’s face went red.

“What, no, the more the better T-bone, or, well…” Stuttering for a second, Zach’s head dropped back and he stared up at the ceiling. “Ummm, I meant like…”

“Wait, did K.J. call you a slut?” Tommy clicked, staring at Zach.

“What, no, that sir is a wild take, I was just, like, asking hippo pathetically… hypo telly…ummm.." 

“I think you mean hypothetically.” Tommy corrected him gently, “Hippos are not pathetic. Zach, you shouldn’t be seeing someone who treats you like this.”

“Relax Daddy-T, you're legit over-reacting, he’s a cool guy. He texted me this morning.” And Zach was pulling up his phone before Tommy could say anything, so he just sat there, wishing he had never dumped Buck in the first place, so he wouldn’t have been moping in the bar that night. 

Okay, that was a bit harsh on Zach.

“See: ‘Good morning my little whor-’” Zach paused, coughing, “- ‘my little who… ummm’”

“What does it say?” Tommy demanded, although he wasn’t dumb, he could tell from where Zach trailed off.

“Little… uh, hmmm,” 

Tommy was unconvinced, after all Zach was as bad at lying as Buck was, it was kinda embarrassing. 

“Look, point is.” Zach changed the subject, “He’s actually very sweet, and very hot and very into me, so it’s all a win. Relax, Zach attack can look after himself.” 

Somehow, Tommy had doubts.

** 

Tommy never asked for a crass, immature idiot to mentor. 

Still, it felt good sometimes to be able to share some of his hard earned life knowledge onto someone, to help them avoid the many mistakes he made, the many people he had accidentally (and, not so accidentally) hurt.

Other times, it simply ended up embarrassing him. To be fair, that most of the time. 

Case in point, sitting in the helicopter flying to another disaster, when over the head seat Zach spoke up, “Hell yeah, K.J fire reacted to my snap this morning, like, I tell ya boyz, I’m a whole snack.”

Then like in a scene from Nat Geo’s Seconds from Disaster, Tommy shot Lucy a look.

“Don’t worry ol’ T-bone, I always think of you when I take my sexy snaps.” 

Tommy didn’t need to be able to see Lucy’s face through the headset, or hear her, to know exactly the look on her face.

“Oh, is that so, Anderson? And why is that?”

“If you’re including the face, don’t go lower than the waist, if under the waist, crop the face. Which seems unfair, because all of me is, like, legit perfect team.” 

Lucy looked over at Tommy, “Kinard, is this why we put him in the back?”

**

It was Buck, a few days later, who let the cat out of the bag, as they sat in Tommy’s lounge watching the wrestling.

“Uh, so what are we doing for your big day?” He asked the room, as Zach and Lucy looked up in confusion. 

Now, it wasn’t that Tommy was a loner, but he had gotten used to being on the outside, so celebrating birthdays hadn’t really been an important part of his life.

Zach looked up from his phone for the first time all night, eyes widened, excitement poured off him “Shut the front door, are you two getting hitched! Fuck yeah-“

“Zach.” Tommy cut him off “we’re not getting married.”

Would someone give Tommy strength or an industrial size whiskey. 

“Oh, lame… I thought since Bucky here said big day, ya know, I was gonna get to wear a suit, rather than just my birthday suit”

Lucy smiled as she ignored Zach’s comment, "Interesting, I didn’t know your birthday was coming up,” she then pondered, “actually, I don’t remember celebrating it last year.”

Tommy shrugged it off before giving Buck a look, “Mhmm, thanks Evan… look, I’m a quiet guy, I don’t need a big fuss made.” 

That was the line he always gave, and it wasn’t exactly a lie. Tommy didn’t like to fly to close to the sun, there were some father issues that he didn’t exactly want to bring up and besides,  he’d gotten used to being in the shadows, that steady, reliable, background noise when someone needed something.

And then put back, ready for next time.

Until he met Buck, who put him on display. 

And then, Zach crashed his pity party in the bar and refused to leave him alone.

Which in turn, had caused Lucy to go from witty co-worker to voice of reason when dealing with Evan and Zach.

When had so many people crept into his life? Not even Sal, or that paramedic dude who left just after Howie arrived had become more than co–workers. 

“So no party?” Lucy asked, her question interrupted his internal pity party.

“Oh! We could totally dress up.” Buck added, eyes lighting up at the thought as Tommy held back a deep sigh. Call him boring, and he knew people did, but he wasn’t a fan of dressing up. He didn’t mind Buck doing it, in fact, he enjoyed all of Buck’s crazy outfits and plans, Buck’s love for life contagious but it just wasn’t him jam. 

“No, no party. It’s just another day.” Tommy put his foot down.

Zach grabbed a cracker, loading it up with a slice of brie, a slice of salami and a strawberry, which earnt a disgusted look from Lucy, so Zach offered it to her, “Honest Juicy, try it before you judge it, it’s sick.”

“You’re sick,” she muttered under her breath. “You realise he’s here because we invited him, of our own free will?”

“Ouch, anyway, totz hear ya T-bone, just a nice, quiet birthday bash with the boyz, and Donato, who’s basically a man anyway.”

Something hit Zach in the side of the head. “One day, Anderson, you’re gonna take a long fall from the helicopter.” Lucy warned, before she looked back at Tommy, “But seriously, we have to do something, even if it is a quiet drink.”

“Maybe a couple of drinks here, with the four of you, no presents.”

“Fair, anyway, I’ll be your present T-bone, like, you can legit put a bow on me and unwrap me and everyth-” Zach paused, “-Ah, no wait, not like that.”

Lucy relaxed into the couch, with her cracker, “Ah, I mean, I’ve pictured it before.”

Three sets of eyes looked at her, “Oh, please, the kid is a walking H.R violation, what do you expect?” 

Buck nearly choked on his drink. Zach, affronted, sat forward with both hands spread. “Bro, HR loves me. You know, she calls me by first name now.” as if that was something to be proud of.

“Yeah,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head. “Love to fire you.”

**

Lucy closed the Amazon page as someone entered the office, breathing a sigh of relief when it was just Zach.

“Anderson.”

“Donato, my favourite Ninja Turtle, how’s it going?”

“That’s Donatello, and I know you know that, so cut to the chase and tell me why you’re bothering me and not Kinard, who is your designated carer.”

“Designated what…” Zach started, before deciding it didn’t matter “...nevermind, like, level with me here Juicy, we’re legit gonna get T-bone a prezzie right? Like, the man can’t have nothing on his birthday, that would be a crime. And granted, he is low key, sorta like a criminal… huh, what was my point?”

“Presents for Tommy. Which is sweet, so you’ll get a hall pass on anything else you said that might be borderline offensive.” Lucy answered, as she sat up. “So, I will indeed, uh, ‘level’ with you Zach attack. Yes, I am getting him a present, because I am the queen of presents. So, find your own.”

“Relax baby girl…”

“Call me baby girl one more time, and I will end you.” Lucy warned with a bright smile.

“Damn, you kinda feisty girl.” Zach held his hands up in mock surrender, but with his dopey grin plastered over his face“...but anyway, I have found something already without you, so there.” and like the child he was, he stuck his tongue out and planted his phone in her face.

“ZACH!.”

“Pretty cool right?” Zach said proudly.

“No, as in N-O. As in nope, no way, negative.” Lucy stated clearly.

The grin slid clean off Zach’s face as he glanced at the screen, wounded puppy eyes fully engaged. “But it’s, like, Bluetooth. It has an app. Juicy, you know how he loves gear.”

Lucy exhaled, and collected herself, “You can not get Tommy a remote control, bluetooth vibrating butt plug, okay? That’s just…” she sighed again, “Even for you, Zach. Think for a moment okay, this is gonna be a nice, meaningful couple of drinks at his place, you want to give him something… huh uh, something deep- no, don’t you dare make a comment.”

Zach’s lips were already twitching as a grin threatened to break out. “But babe… you legit set that one up so beautifully. Like, you basically begged me to-”

“Zach.” She warned. 

“You were literally begging for it, Juicy.”

Lucy turned her chair slowly, eyes bright and deadly. “Zachary Howard, do not make me neuter you, boy.”

“Oh no, do not call me Howard, come on Lucy, that’s not cool.”

“Then behave.” Lucy warned with an arched eyebrow and death glare. 

He sighed dramatically, dropping into the chair opposite her like a sulking teenager instead of a grown firefighter. “Fine, fine. Whatever, no sex toys then. Even though that thing had, like, a million five-star reviews but it's cool. Guess I’ll go find something lame instead.”

**

12 hours later, and Lucy was sweaty, tired and covered in soot when she got bundled into a supply closet by Zach.

Now, Zach was probably harmless, but just in case.

“Oww, what the fuck man, did you just knee me in the nuts, Juicy…” Zach groaned, clutching his crown jewels and slid to the floor of the closet, “I was planning on using them later, what did you do that for.”

“You grabbed me with no warning and threw me into a closet,” Lucy snapped, crossing her arms. “I had to be ready.”

She waved her pepper spray canister in his face, just to show he got off lightly. 

“Absolutely diabolical ma’am,” Zach whimpered from the floor, eyes glassy like he might never recover. “T-Bone wouldn’t’ve done that.”

“Simple,” Lucy deadpanned. “Grab him next time, problem solved.”

Zach rolled his eyes, groaning like the world’s most pitiful martyr. “I wanted to show you something, not get straight up murdered, don’t we, like, legit have an anti-assault policy at work?”

“Easy now, I will kick you again.”

“Relax psycho, I got T-bone monster truck tickets.” Zach pulled out his phone and showed her the tickets sitting in his emails. “See…” 

Lucy sighed, exasperated but fighting a smirk. “Monster trucks, huh? That’s… actually kind of brilliant.”

Zach grinned like he’d won the lottery. “Ah, damn straight it is. What else do you expect from Tommy’s best friend?”

She shook her head, and chose not to answer the question and pushed the door open. “Fine. But next time Anderson? Tap me on the shoulder like a normal person.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Zach limped after her, still clutching himself. “But admit it, you’re impressed.”

**

Saturday rolled around, and Zach pulled up outside K.J’s place and rang the door bell, waited on the door step with too much bounce. 

Act cool Zach, he reminded himself. 

The door opened, and K.J’s friend, Leo stood there, “Oh, great, it’s you.” he sighed, “Come in I guess.”

Zach forced a grin. “Love the enthusiasm, king.” He went to breeze past into the hallway, but Leo’s hand shot out, fingers clamping around his arm.

“Listen carefully, mate,” Leo said, low and sharp.

“Huh?” Zach frowned, glancing down at the grip on his sleeve.

Before he could shrug it off, Leo shoved him back against the wall, pinning him there with narrowed eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know your type. Straight, white, basic boy, desperate to feel edgy. So you slap on a fake label, post thirst traps, flirt with whoever bites, and then let some basic bitch ‘fix’ you and drag you back to suburbia. Bi, my ass.”

For a split second Zach just stared, stunned. Then he let out a sharp laugh, loud and incredulous, even as he shoved back against Leo’s chest.

“Nah, bro, that’s straight-up outta pocket dawg, that’s literally biphobia, and spoiler alert, it’s not a cute look on you, my dude.”

Leo sneered, leaning in closer, jaw tight. “Listen here, you walking STD factory. Hurt him and I’ll-”

“Yeah, see, respectfully… no,” Zach cut in, his voice snapping like a whip. He tilted his head, and grinned all teeth. “Actually,no, scratch that, let’s go with disrespectfully, no. I get it, you’re K.J.’s bestie king. You think it’s your job to do the whole shovel-talk thing, warn off the bad guys. But here’s the thing, you don’t get to corner me against a wall and play sexuality police. That’s not ‘protective,’ that’s just fucking pathetic.”

He leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched, eyes blazing. “So how about you Back. The. Fuck. Off.”

The air went taut, Leo’s hand still gripping, his glare daring Zach not to blink first. But Zach yanked his arm free with a twist, brushing off his sleeve like dust.

“I don’t know what your issue is, king,” Zach said, tone suddenly light again, “but don’t drag me into your bad vibes. That’s on you.”

Leo leaned in, “You know, you’re just a placeholder until he sorts shit out with Chad right?”

“Hey Zach, everything all good here?” K.J.’s voice broke the tension as he appeared in the hall, hair still damp from the shower, casual as ever.

Zach’s smile snapped back into place, a little too wide. “Yeah, man. Leo was making me feel super welcome, which I totally appreciate.”

“Great,” K.J. said, clapping Zach on the shoulder. “Love that you two get along. Would be awkward otherwise.”

“Bet,” Zach replied, flicking a glance toward Leo, who was still glaring daggers. “Anyway, shall we bounce? Traffic’s gonna be a pain in the ass. Oh, and you can tell me more about that Mussolini dude that’s so obsessed with public transport reform, ‘cause honestly, straight up, this city needs some.”

In the background, Zach swore he heard Leo mutter ‘for fuck sake’ under his breath. 

K.J. barked a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you’re hot, you know that, right?”

“Weird answer, but you’re not wrong, bro. There’s a reason everything looks good on me.”

Behind them, Leo slammed the lounge door hard enough to earn a concerned look from K.J. “I wonder what that was about, you sure you two were chill?”

“Dude, I’m chill with everyone,” Zach replied with a shrug. “Must be having, like, a bad hair day or something.”

**

The concert was unreal. The floor shook with bass, lights strobed across the crowd, and Zach was riding the wave of sound with his arms up, sweat running down his back as he danced alongside thousands of other people to the sound of bass drums and guitars.

It was sick.

Then, mid-guitar solo, K.J. leaned close, grinning with a dangerously reckless glint in his eye as he dipped a hand into shorts pocket and pulled out a couple of little white pills, holding them out like a magician with a card trick.

“Want one, Zachy?” he yelled over the music, waving the bag.

Zach stared at the pills in the small bag.Now, once upon a time, he would’ve said yes without hesitation. Hell, part of him still wanted to. The high, the rush, the way the night would stretch forever, isn’t that what rock concerts were all about? But he thought about his job, Tommy and Lucy, the rest of the 217, about his shift waiting tomorrow night…. All the boring adult crap.

“Sorry, bro,” Zach said, shaking his head. “Legit got a shift tomorrow night, can’t risk it.”

K.J. leaned closer, the bass vibrating between them. “Aww, come on, man. How about just a halvie?”

Zach gave him a crooked smile and a relaxed shrug. “Ah, nah bro. But cheers, you can go for gold though.”

K.J. rolled his eyes, grinning, and popped half a pill for himself before tossing the other half back into his pocket. Then he was gone again, swallowed by the sound and the lights, hands high as he headbanged with the crowd.

At first, it was fine. Thirty minutes later, Zach started noticing it. K.J. wasn’t moving the same as earlier, his energy shifted from wild to loose, sloppy. Everything was a little slower. 

“Aw, hell,” Zach muttered, pushing through the crush of bodies until he got an arm around him. “Hey, hey, come on,” he said, voice firm even over the thundering drums. “Let’s get you some water.”

K.J. laughed, trying to wave him off, but his weight sagged against Zach’s shoulder.

Luckily, one of the underrated truths of rock concerts is that for all the noise and rage against the world, most people are actually pretty chill. When they saw Zach half-dragging, half-guiding K.J. toward the edge of the crowd, strangers stepped aside, parting like the red sea. 

At the water station, a guy in a ripped Metallica tee leaned in with concern. “Is he okay?”

“Just needs some water, I think,” Zach said, steadying K.J. against the counter. “Partied too hard.”

The guy gave a thumbs up. “Rock out, buddy. Hope you feel better soon, the EMT’s are over there if you need one.” He clapped Zach on the back before melting back into the pit.

Zach grabbed two paper cups and pressed one into K.J.’s hands, holding it steady as he took a sip. He watched him closely,  the flushed skin, the twitch in his jaw, the sweat plastered down his hair.

“Drink that.” Zach commanded, as he grabbed KJ.’s arm and tried to track his pulse. Honestly, Tommy and Lucy always made it look so easy out on the field. There was a grumble, but K.J did as he was told. 

Five minutes dragged by, the noise from the stage pounding like a second heartbeat. Then, out of nowhere, a familiar voice cut through.

“Ah, Zach?”

Zach blinked up to see a tall blond man reaching for water, pausing when he recognized him.

“Oh, yo Alex!” Zach said, startled. “What are you doing here? Didn’t picture you being into, ya know, good music…”

Alex gave a serious nod. “Oh, you are too kind, my friend. But no, I am only here for the free water.”

“There goes that famous Swedish humour,” Zach shot back, smirking as he leaned against the water table.

Alex’s gaze shifted to K.J., still slumped against the counter. “And who is this?”

“Oh, this is my, uh… date. K.J.” Zach stammered, scratching his neck. “Uh, he just needs, like, a mo to, uh, catch his breath.”

“Right.” Alex crouched slightly, studying K.J. with a professional eye. “Is he okay?”

“Totz dude, I think he just needs some rest and water, ya know, it’s hot and loud out there” Zach said, as he glanced back down at K.J who was still hunched over.

Alex’s expression sharpened. “You know, I’m a trained paramedic with the L.A.F.D.” He tilted his head at K.J. “Has he taken something?”

“No,” K.J. said quickly, shaking his head, though his face betrayed him a second later as he folded forward, groaning.

Zach sighed and shook his head. “Don’t lie to the man who’s trying to help you, yeah, he has taken something. Half a white pill. Dunno know what it was, he’s got more in his pocket.”

“We should take him to the medic tent then,” Alex said evenly. “They have drug testing kits. Better to know if there’s anything dangerous in it.”

“Dude.” K.J. muttered weakly, glaring. “Why’d you have to open your big trap?”

Zach gave him a firm look. “N’aww, my man. You lie to the cops, you definitely lie to ICE, but you never lie to a paramedic.”

Alex narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. “You should not lie to a police officer either, Zach.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my friend.” Zach wagged a finger with a big grin, “Never ever trust a cop, not even a criminal thing, just honest to god advice.”

**

At the medic tent, K.J. pulled out a bag, with just half a pill left as Zach stood there shocked, “Dude, did you take one and a half? For fuck sake, why would you even-”

One of the medics stepped in, “Please, I get your frustration, but now isn’t the time, this is a safe zone.”

K.J. groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ugh. It wasn’t hitting fast enough, so… yeah. Now I’m tripping balls, man.” He laughed weakly, then winced.

Zach pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered curses under his breath.

Alex, who’d hung back near the supply table, nudged Zach in the ribs. “Did you take anything? If you did, you should tell them.”

“Me?” Zach squeaked, voice a full octave higher than normal. He coughed, forcing it lower. “Me? Nah, dude. I didn’t take anything...like, for real, promise.”

Alex gave him a long, slow look. “Okej,” he said finally, though his skeptical tone made it clear he wasn’t convinced. “If you say so…”

Zach threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “N’awww, come on, man. I’ve got work tomorrow, I drove here, and, w-wait…why am I even explaining myself to you? You’re not my dad.”

Alex nodded, deadpan. “No, I don’t suppose I am. Well, if that’s all, I should probably go get the water I came looking for originally, ja?” He turned slightly, as if ready to leave.

“Wait,” Zach blurted, narrowing his eyes. “I still don’t get why you’re even here.”

Alex arched an eyebrow. “Ah, let me explain. Your boyfriend overdosed on drugs, so we brought him to the medic tent to get checked.” His voice was bone-dry, deadpan enough to make Zach bristle.

“Really funny, dude,” Zach huffed, unimpressed. “No, I meant, at this concert. Like I just didn’t think you’d be into… ya know, good music. Thought you’d be at home knitting or something. Too old and boring for this kinda scene.You give hash tag bed by nine vibes for real.”

“Oh, stop it,” Alex replied evenly, lips twitching as he reached for a cup of water from the cooler. “You really know how to compliment a stranger.”

“Oh haha.” Zach retorted, with an eye roll.

“Now, as far as I can tell, you are also not my father, so I don’t owe you an explanation, but nevertheless, I will enjoy this.” Alex said with a grin, as he pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through until he found a picture. He held it out for Zach to see; him standing between the two lead singers of the band currently rocking it up on stage, grinning with his arm slung casually around one of them.

“Oh, now that’s sick, when was this bro?” Zach asked as he leaned in to get a better look.

Alex smirked, “Oh, this, back In Stockholm when we were visiting Mother and Father, Johan and Brita are my brother and sister…”

“No, get the fuck out.” Zach said, shocked, “You’re straight up related to one of the biggest alt rock bands ever? Like, these two are…”

“Not bad for an old boring fart.” Alex teased, as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Well, I mean, you’re still old and boring, it’s just, like, mind-blowing.” Zach grumbled as he dragged a hand down his face and then turned back to the real problem. “Is he gonna be all good?” he asked the medic, jerking a thumb toward K.J. who was still slumped in a chair.

The medic, who had spent far too many years wrangling drunk concert-goers, gave a tired smile as she checked K.J’s heart rate. “From what I’m seeing, some rest, some water, and he’ll be as good as new. Hopefully wiser. People forget to hydrate at these things; especially if they’ve taken anything. Dehydration alone can knock you flat, these places are loud, hot and intense.”

Zach nodded, guilt tugging at his chest as he finally crossed over to K.J., who was slumped awkwardly in the folding chair, one arm dangling like he’d forgotten he even had it as his eyes followed something around the room, which may or may not actually exist.

“Yo K,” Zach said gently, crouching a little. “How’s the ol’ bean doing bro?”

K.J. groaned, rubbing at his temple with the heel of his hand. “Please… don’t talk. Everything’s too loud. Too bright.” He winced again and shifted in his seat as he tried to get comfortable.

Then, as if the pain evaporated, his gaze slid sideways and landed squarely on Alex, who was standing by the water cooler with arms crossed. K.J.’s lips curled into a lazy smirk. “Oh. Hello there, handsome. Now, you’re a sight for sore eyes, and a sore head.”

Zach’s head whipped around at that comment. “Uh, excuse me? What did you just say? I’m, like, legit right here… and tryin’ to look after your sad ass”

K.J. waved a hand at him weakly, smirk still intact. “Relax, Zachy. We can look, right? And I like what I see… What team do you bat for Blondie?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, “Blondie?”

“Tall, Hunky, and do I detect a slight accent?” K.J continued. “You could be a runway model.”

“Alas, I am a mere paramedic.” Alex deadpanned, “I assume I’m not needed?” 

Zach gripped K.J’s hand a little too tightly, “We appreciate the help, Alex, but we’ve got it from here.”

“Woah, woah, woah, Pretty Boy, let’s not be so rude.” K.J. said, before he flopped back into the chair, and closed his eyes, “I haven’t gotten to know our guest yet, like, is he single?”

“You’ve chosen a real winner, Zach,” Alex said dryly, his accent curling around the disdain in his words. His gaze cut sharply toward K.J., who was sprawled half-asleep, half-drugged across the  seat. “Slöseri med utrymme.” he muttered. 

K.J. perked up just enough to flash a grin. “Damn, that sounded so dreamy it almost got me bricked up.” He tugged his hand free from Zach’s with exaggerated flair. “Eurotrash over there is so fine…”

“K.J…” Zach growled, shoulders hunched, with clear embarrassment and irritation in his voice.

“Chillllll, Zachy,” K.J. drawled, eyes glinting wickedly as he openly eyed Alex still standing in the corner. “You can come too. Ever heard of a three-way before? Or-” he let out a snigger, “-you could just sit in the corner and watch how the real men do it….”

“Shuddup, asshole.” Zach pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead with a groan. He bit down on his bottom lip hard, trying to will his temper into something manageable before he got scolded by the nurse again. “For the love of god, I’m trying to help you, and you’re-” He broke off with a bitter laugh, shaking his head. -“Whatever.”

Alex’s mouth tightened. He looked from Zach to K.J., reading the tension in an instant. Then, without a word, he pushed away from the table and headed for the door.

“Wait, come back, Eurotrash!” K.J. called after him, half-laughing, and he cupped his hands around his mouth and added, “I wanna see whatcha working with sexy!”

Zach exhaled hard, chest tight with a mixture of frustration and shame, his cheeks felt like they were on fire. He grabbed the nearest glass, half filled it with water, and slid it in front of K.J. with a thunk.

“Really, dude?” Zach muttered, his tone flat. 

“Damn, Pretty Boy, don’t be such a Petty Boy.” K.J. chuckled, “Ugh, more water?” 

**

A week later, and K.J. was leaning against the brick wall outside the firehouse, arms folded, cap tipped low. He straightened the second he saw Zach coming down the steps, and without preamble smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“You’ve been straight-up ghosting me,” he accused.

Zach didn’t even slow down. “Yeah, well, you overdosed on our date, then hit on another guy in front of me,” His tone was sharper than usual, the words coming out like sparks off a car door when they were feeling a trapped victim. “So, yeah, man. Maybe I ghosted.”

“Oh wow,” K.J. drawled, pushing off the wall to follow. “Is that what this is about? Like you’ve never taken something at a party before?”

Zach spun on his heel, eyes flashing. “Of course I have. Everyone’s done dumb shit. But that’s not the point.”

K.J. threw up his hands, grinning like it was all a misunderstanding. “Personally, I think you should be a little more grateful that I did it in front of you. Would you rather I checked out guys behind your back?”

Zach stared at him, incredulous. “Grateful? Bro, are you listening to yourself? You don’t get brownie points for flirting with someone right in front of me.”

“And so what?” K.J. pressed, eyes narrowing, chin tilted like he thought he’d found Zach’s weak spot. “I looked at a guy. You really telling me you don’t notice hot guys? Or chicks? Really Zachy?”

Zach’s jaw clenched as he raked a hand through his hair, before he exhaled deeply. “For fuck…of course I notice.Like, sure, I get everyone does. Again, not the point.” His voice dropped lower, “Not when you’re on a date with someone. That’s some next-level disrespect.” Zach took a deep breath, and lowered his voice, “Besides, your home boy Leo doesn’t-”

“Doesn’t like ya, no, yeah I noticed. It’s chill though, he’ll get used to you.” K.J. said simply. 

Zach’s eyes narrowed. “Used to me? There’s nothing to get used to”

“Look,” K.J. said, softening his tone but not his grin, “you want exclusivity? That’s cool, bro. I just didn’t think it was your jam.”

“See ya around, bro.” Zach said, before he climbed into his car.

**

Zach proceeded to ignore the hundreds of incoming messages as he hit the gym, music in, running full speed on the treadmill for a good hour before he wound down with some wall calf stretches and light weight training.

And a couple of sweaty gym photos for insta and twitter, of course.

He then went out to murder lookout point, and gazed over the city, thinking to himself before a hiker coming off the trail scared the shit out of him in the dark and he almost threw his Powerade bottle at him. 

Just after midnight, he arrived home and found Cassidy still up, playing X-box. 

“Yo, Zach, what happened with you and K.J. dude?”

“Nothing? Why’s, what's up?” Zach asked.

“Oh, because he was here earlier, I assume he’s done something given he brought you the expensive fucking chocolate and some gifts, oh, and sorry bro, I already ate the cookies. He got the tight ones from the fancy ass place in West Hollywood.”

Ignoring Cassidy, Zach walked over to the kitchen counter, which was covered in bills, the remains of Cassidy’s dinner, and also, concerningly, Frank’s undies, which Zach was not touching. 

But also, a large box of chocolates, an empty cookie package, two movie tickets for tomorrow night, a very nice bottle of aftershave and a card.

“Yo, dude, the card is so fucking sappy, I got second hand cringe from it.” Cassidy shouted from the other side of the room, still killing someone, or something. 

“You read the card?”

“Ah, hell yeah, gotta know the drama, you know.”

Zach shot him a look that promised creative homicide, then looked down. The card had a cartoon Hellcat and WRX drawn nose-to-nose with little hearts for exhaust. Inside, thick block letters and messy arrows:

“To my hot firefighter…

**

Which is why the next evening, Zach pulled up outside the movie theatre. 

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.” K.J. said smugly, jumping off the bonnet of the Hell Cat.

“Bad life decisions are kinda my thing, ask my dad.” Zach replied back, “What’s with the…” he threw his hands in the air, “effort?”

K.J. stepped forward, lowering his head, “For real, sometimes I talk some shit, and I’m sorry, I went way too far, and I understand that, but I just wanted you to know that I do like you, and not just because you have no gag reflex.”

Zach shook his head, before K.J. took his hand, “I mean it, Zachy, you’re a cool guy, and I wanna get to know ya. And if you really think you’re up for proper dating, then I’m willing to give you a chance.”

“Me a chance?” Zach questioned, “You were the one who-”

K.J. squeezed his hand, “Zach, I’ve had two serious relationships in the last 5 years, one of which lasted a year and half, the other just over two years right? I’ve looked on your insta, have you had a relationship last six months?”

Zach scratched the back of his neck.

“Okay.” K.J. chuckled, “Three months then?”

Zach scratched the back of his neck as he sighed. “That’s… not the point, bro.”

“So you keep saying, Pretty Boy, let’s try a different question, in the last six months, I’ve fucked three guys, which is a record for me.” K.J. lied with a smile, “What about you?”

“Oh, ummm… ya know, a few, but…” Zach bit his lip, unsure how things had flipped. He was sure he wasn’t the unreasonable one here, or at least he was pretty sure. To be fair, they hadn’t really discussed boundaries before…

“That’s not the point.” K.J teased lightly, “Oh, but it is, Zachy, but look, I promise, if you’re willing to try, then I’m willing to give you a chance, for real. Just you and me, kid, against the world.”

Zach tried to hide the slight blush he felt creep up his neck.

“Oh, and FYI, I told Leo to back off,” K.J. added, face suddenly serious. “He was out of pocket. He apologized, well to me, at least. You don’t owe him anything, even if he still thinks you're semi straight.”

“Well, technically half straight, half gay, ya know, like the whole bi thing?” 

“Yeah, yeah, so you wanna catch that movie, or stand here talking about our feelings?” K.J. teased with a smirk, “Come on, Pretty Boy.”

**

As Zach and K.J. watched their movie, Buck put the finishing touches on Tommy’s birthday cake.

“So, you looking forward to tomorrow?” Buck asked, as Tommy put away the groceries.

“Well, you told Lucy, and worse yet, Zach that tomorrow is my birthday, so I know something is going down at work. You know, I’m half tempted to call in sick instead.” Tommy grumbled as Buck affectionately rolled his eyes.

“Let people celebrate you, babe, you deserve love.”

Chapter Text

The simple alarm clock is the bane of many a person's life. The sharp noise broke the morning silence as Tommy untangled himself from Buck and rolled over to whack it to shut it up. After the third attempt in the dark, his hand managed to hit the snooze button, and he lay there for a second, wondering to himself how Buck managed to sleep through all the noise. 

Then a hand made its way down his bare back, and pulled on the band of his underwear, and slowly tugged them down, before a foot slid up his legs and Buck’s toe curled around his lowered underwear and yanked them clean off him.

So, as it turns out, Buck hadn’t slept through the alarm, and Tommy got his first birthday present. 

**

Normally, the only birthday greetings Tommy received were from his Captain, who had his birthday on file, and the handful of customer loyalty groups he was part of, which offered him a buy-one-get-one-free coffee. 

He didn’t expect, nor did he get one from his father. 

And while he had ‘friends’ of course, the Westside Basketball team, co-workers at Harbor, he never really got around to sharing such personal details such as his birthday.

So today, what he woke up to, after his very pleasant birthday surprise from Buck, was nearly forty-five unread messages from Zach. All of them memes. All of them increasingly unhinged. Somewhere between “Happy birthday vibes, bro, don’t die yet” and a TikTok of a raccoon with a party hat, Tommy briefly considered blocking him. Or at least putting him on mute.

But then again… what if the idiot got himself into actual trouble and needed help? Tommy did not trust Zach enough to get himself out of trouble, although on the flipside, Tommy did trust Zach with his life in a life or death fire situation, so…

Tommy glanced down at the orange demon weaving between his legs in the kitchen. Last time Zach called with an “emergency,” Tommy ended up at the vet after hours and walked out the reluctant owner of one grumpy cat.

Lucy’s contribution to the morning had been simpler: Happy Birthday Loser.

And those, apparently, were the people Tommy chose to associate with.

**

Meanwhile, Zach woke up to a cellphone alarm, to which he hit the snooze button for nine extra minutes of peace. Why nine? Well, ask Apple. 

Eventually, however, he could not ignore his phone anymore, so with that Zach tossed himself on his back and absentmindedly reached for his phone on the cluttered bedside cabinet (which was actually just a Sterilite 105 Quart clear plastic storage bin. 

Now, it would be a shame to waste the morning wood that was currently tenting in his boxers, so he took a quick pic for K.J., taking a moment or two to work out the best angle to make it a true piece of art.

Both his dick and K.J. deserved that.

Then, naturally, he had to wish Tommy a happy birthday - and look, some people may call it spam messaging all the funny GIFs he was sending, but Zach preferred the term ‘showing his love.’ 

Then he had to check his messages to see if Buck had answered the all-important question. 

What cake to order? 

**

Tommy opened what he assumed was yet another happy birthday message from Zach when he stopped, stared, and then chuckled to himself before he past the phone to Buck, who absentmindedly glanced at it, before his eyebrows furrowed and he glanced back over at the phone screen for longer.

"Uh, please tell me that's Zach."

"Is it better if it is, Evan?" Tommy teased, closing the message app.

"Strangely enough, yes." Buck answered. 

**

Tommy got exactly three seconds' warning, in the form of “Yo, happy bee day T-bone” and then there was a full-body tackle from behind. Zach practically launched himself into orbit before colliding, wrapping around Tommy like some overcaffeinated Koala. 

Only less cute, Tommy would never wish bodily harm on a koala. Zach, on the other hand, was debatable.

“Jesus!” Tommy barked, stumbling forward three heavy steps, his balance just barely holding.

“Nah dawg, it’s just me.” Zach replied cheerfully in his ear, “Low-key impressed you’re not too old to carry me.”

“Ha! Because you gave me so many options.” Tommy grumbled, “Can you please get off my back?” 

Thankfully, Zach dropped off him, before he skipped around, “So?” and then stood there expectantly, as if waiting for Tommy to understand the question.

“So what?” Tommy asked as he continued to walk towards the locker room.

“Yo, that’s a lil rude bro.” Zach complained as he frowned, deeply offended at the misunderstanding.

“No. I meant-” Tommy sighed as he tried to correct himself, “-I meant, what did you mean by ‘so?’, clearly you were going somewhere with that question.” 

Zach’s face lit up again, “Oh, for real T-bone, how’s the big day been man, like, have you done anything exciting? Give me the bee day down low, king.”

“Well… I woke up, showered, had breakfast, came to work, got attacked by you.” Tommy answered dryly as they reached the locker room.

“Wow, okay, that was a celebration of you, so that’s Straight-up diabolical you’d frame it as an assault-”

Tommy silenced him with a finger to the lips and a sharp “shhh.” “Thanks, I appreciate the thought. My back, however, does not…” and then Tommy had the flashback from this morning, Evan snuggled against his back as he looked through the forty five GIFs from Zach…

“Thank you, by the way, for the forty-five happy birthday messages, really appreciated the constant ‘ding’ noise this morning as I was lying in bed with Evan,”

Zach beamed, “N’awww, no problem T-bone, hash tag birthday vibes for sure.”

“Speaking of bone’s, um, Evan and I also appreciated the, uh, dick pic too, but we’ll pass.”

Zach whipped his head back around, with confusion plastered over his face, which reaffirmed Bucks suspicions that it had been a mistake - to be fair, Tommy hadn’t been able to tell. “Ahh, s-sorry?”

“Mhm, you heard me.” Tommy teased, a grin forming on his face. “A little surprise this morning.”

“I legit have no idea what you mean.” Zach replied, but Tommy could see the ‘oh shit’ look that slowly crept onto Zach’s face, “Also, there’s nothing lil about it, T-bone, but, for real?” 

With a smug smirk, Tommy slowly pulled his phone slowly out of his pocket, and then scrolled through the messages till he found *it* and waved the image on his phone screen in Zach’s face. 

“Oh, shit, dude, that…” Zach went bright red and scratched the back of his neck, “Huh, oh well, your totally welcome for that surprise, but,”

“But?”

“Hey, no face, so, like, I listen to ya, right? That’s a positive.” 

Tommy face palmed.

“And, huh, did you and Evan like it? Like, it looks good, right? With the trimming and-”

“No.” Tommy cut off, “I’m not giving you feedback about your dick pics, that is not happening…” With a sigh, he changed the subject, “Anyway, remember what I said about today?” 

The blank response did not inspire confidence in Tommy’s gut. “Zach, remember what I said about today?” Tommy repeated.

“Like, you mean the quiet drinks at yours later? Like, dawg you know I wouldn’t miss that for anyone. Today is all about you, T-bone. You are the star.”

A beat, or two as Tommy shrugged off his civilian tee shirt and changed into his LAFD shirt before he continued, “No, I meant, a nice quiet, no attention kinda day here. I don’t want-”

“Yo, happy birthday, Kinard!” a voice called from across the bay.

“Yeah, Kinard, Many happy returns of the day!” came another. 

“Uh…hmmm you know…” Zach rocked on his heels, suddenly guilty. “I think Cap wanted me to, like, tidy the kitchen or something, so…”

“Did you tell everyone it was my birthday?” Tommy asked, “When I said-”

“T-bone, T-bone, T-bone.” Zach cut him off, “Ah…” and then with a click of his fingers, he was gone. 

Coward. 

**

Now, Zach was not a coward, but if he spent the first half an hour of their shift hiding helping out in the ambulance bay, that was because he was a helpful person and not because he had, maybe, possibly, told Harbor today was Tommy’s birthday.

Anyway, didn’t Tommy deserve to know how much everyone cared about him?

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

KJ: Baby, I’m gonna make you bounce like a basketball🏀🏀 2nite🔥🔥🔥

Zach: Sorry babe, but 2nite is T-bone b’day bash

KJ: Noooo. Ditch, honestly I’ve been drooling over ur ass 🍑 🔥

Zach: U just have to wait boy

**

To be fair, the morning was pretty good. Zach had managed to make himself scarce, and avoid the (to be fair, non-existent) wrath for blabbering about Tommy’s birthday. 

Up until the bell went. 

Lucy came up beside Zach, looping an arm around his shoulders in a friendly manner, before she said with an evil grin, “Tommy’s really looking forward to being alone with you for ten minutes in an enclosed space…”

It wasn’t that Tommy was mad, per say, it was more the point that Tommy had told Zach in black and white terms that he was happy with having no fuss kind of birthday, content with simply being the quiet, reliable co worker in the background. (He then promptly shut down the comment about stealing helicopters).

Still, it was fun to have a little fun with it. 

Zach’s eyes went wide, flicking between Lucy and Tommy as if searching for backup. “T-bone, come on, like, it’s nice having people say happy birthday, right?”

No answer.

“T-bone, we’re good? Right bro?”

Tommy clapped him once, hard, between the shoulder blades. “Get in the truck, kid.”

Zach winced, stumbling forward a step before turning to Lucy with a hissed whisper. “N’aww Juicy, for real, why would you say that? Now I’m gonna, like,die or something. Like, legit, he’s plotting away.”

Lucy only smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they spell your name right on the headstone. Zachary Howard, or Zach Zach for short…”

“Ha! Funny… ya know, I should, like-”

“Shut up for once?” Tommy suggested playfully as they climbed in the truck. 

**

As they were finishing up the call, one of the very attractive blonde ladies they had been helping wandered over, a playful finger twisting her long, blonde hair as she obnoxiously chewed her gum. 

“Ah, excuse me, Mister Firefighter, sir?” she sang out, waving at them and Tommy put down the hose before she screwed up her face, “Oh, no, not you, the other one…” Zach looked up and pointed at himself, slightly confused “Yes, you, hello.” 

Lucy groaned to herself as she packed up the truck as Tommy went back to winding up the hose, now minus Zach’s help.

Zach bounced over to her like a knight in shining armour to rescue the damsel in distress, “Sup, everything all good?”

She tilted her head, looking him up and down with zero subtlety as Lucy rolled her eyes and Tommy bit back a chuckle. “Oh, I’m fine. More than fine. Just, you know, thought maybe you should check me over. Make sure I’m not suffering from… lingering shock.” and she looked at him, batting her eyelashes as she played with her hair. 

Zach glanced at the ambulance crew packing up. “Uh, oh course, ma’am, I mean, I could, like, call the paramedics back if-”

“Oh, no, silly,” she cut in quickly, lowering her voice with a sly smile as she continued to toy with her hair. “I was thinking maybe later. Over a drink. Somewhere quiet, where I could thank you the way you deserve.”

Zach froze for half a beat, then his eyes went wide.  “Oh. Oh! Uh… wow. Thanks, but, uh… yeah, I’m actually not available right now. Like, ya know, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, just, like, all booked up with this dude I’m doin-seeing..mhmm. So….”

He hesitated for just a moment, then gestured vaguely toward Lucy, which Lucy just knew she was going to regret.

And sure enough:

“But, like, Lucy… the blond chick over there, she’s,like, totz single, and she’s awesome. And, uh…” His gaze dropped for half a second, and he blurted without thinking, “…her boobs are almost as nice as yours, so, like…win-win?” Zach’s gaze dropped again, “Like, damn gurl, those are…”

Zach coughed, before he blushed slightly, “Uh, I’m sure all of you is” and he gestured vaguely as the increasingly unhappy blonde, “Ya know, good… like, you’re probably smart and whatnot… anyway… Good luck, and God bless you.”

And then, for reasons only known to Zach, he pulled out one of the LAFD stickers they give out to kids and stuck it on her top with a thumbs up before he jogged back to Tommy.

**

“Did you…” Tommy started, as if discussing the LA traffic they were stuck in, “Say to that woman, God bless you?”

“Shut up, I didn’t wanna hurt her feelings, plus, she was, ya know, banging but I’m faithful as.”

Tommy nodded into his headset as the truck crawled through the traffic, “God bless the children, the United States of America, and all the poor, single women of L.A now that Zach is no longer single.”

“Amen, bro, those poor hoes are gonna have to get good dick from somewhere else, but what can a man do?” Zach replied sincerely, the sarcasm flying straight over his head. Honestly, at this stage, it was Tommy’s own fault. 

After realising that any hopes for a peaceful ride back to Harbor were dashed, Lucy turned her attention from daydreaming out the window to the two stupid boys she had to deal with. “To be fair, Kinard, I was more curious about Zach’s amazing attempt to set me up… just for the record, Zach Zach, I do not need any help in that department,” and she gave him a pointed look.

“Yo, but for real, Juicy, you are legit, the only single one in this truck, so maybe you do need a lil Zach attack magic…” Zach gave her a smug smirk, before his eyes lit up and he clicked his fingers eagerly, “Also!-also!... No cap, we can’t all be banging boys in this truck, like, where's the female rep? It’s like, morally-”

“Imma stop you there before you say something you think is progressive, or something, and is actually incredibly offensive.” Lucy interjected, “Besides, I dunno if I have enough LAFD stickers on me to hand out to all the unlucky players.”

“Oh god.” Zach cringed, going bright pink as he shrank into his seat, “Y’all saw that? No one says a word, okay? Like, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Mhmm, well I thought it was very smooth of you,” Tommy teased. 

Lucy pulled out an LAFD sticker and stuck it on Zach’s shoulder, “There we go, all better.”

“You are all traitors.” Zach fumed.

**

Zach walked in without a word, which in itself was unusual, so Tommy looked up and almost burst into laughter. Zach was covered head to toe in LAFD stickers.

“You told people.” He accused Tommy (quite rightly, by the way), complete with a death glare, and his arms folded across his chest - granted, it might have hit harder if Zach’s arms also weren’t covered in little round LAFD stickers and if he had peeled the two stickers off his cheeks. 

Tommy shrugged it off, “You told people about my birthday…. So, fair’s fair?”

The only answer Tommy got was Zach peeling the sticker off his cheek, before he marched over to where Tommy was and stuck it to Tommy’s forehead.

Then, in an abrupt change of subject, Zach looked at him and said, “Oh, I saved you a cupcake by the way, because, spoiler alert, Gary was eyeing it up and I love Gary, honest bro, he’s like a solid… uh-huh, well, I didn’t mean, like, solid solid, anyway… he was totz gonna snack on your cake so I saved it. You are welcome, by the way.” He then pointed to himself, “That is what friendship looks like, T-bone, take a good hard look.” 

"Mhmm, well, I got a hard look this morning." Tommy said casually, with a sly smirk as Zach actually squeaked, and winced at the remember of the dick pic incident. 

**

Tommy was pleasantly surprised as he looked at the cake, sitting proudly in the lunch room.

“How did you know?” He asked Lucy suspiciously as she handed him a plate and a napkin. 

He definitely didn’t tell anyone his favourite cake, because any conversation about cake would have been ‘No cake needed, quiet day, no fuss.’

Lucy smiled as she stood next to him, “Come on, Kinard, how do you think? Zach spoke to Buck, of course. Did you honestly think Zach, of all people, was going to let today pass without cake?” 

Speaking of Zach, Zach was busy having a very animated conversation with Grey and Smith before someone else stuck another sticker on his back. 

**

So, all in all, it wasn’t the worst birthday as Lucy, Buck and Zach gathered in Tommy’s lounge, millering around, chatting (mostly talking shit).

Lucy clapped her hands together, biting her bottom lip as she leaned forward with a grin. “Huh. Go figure—out of the four people in this room, one is Buck, two have kissed Buck, and one is neither Buck, nor has kissed Buck.”

Zach froze mid–bite of a club sandwich, head cocking like a confused golden retriever; however, before he could speak, Tommy growled from his armchair, “Close your mouth, Zach,  don’t you dare drop a single crumb on my rug.”

The sandwich disappeared into Zach’s mouth in record time. Zach pouted, smacking his lips dramatically. “Bro, listen to me right, this rug is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And I live on a planet that has actual dumpster fires on it, ya know?”

Tommy inhaled, ready to defend the very expensive, very stylish rug that he had carefully chosen, but Zach suddenly lurched forward onto the rug like he’d been hit with divine inspiration as he remembered Lucy’s comment. “Wait, wait, wait… just wait everyone, like, legit hold up. When did Juicy hook up with B-unit? And why? How? Where? Was T-bone there? Oh my god, I have so many questions”

“B-unit?” Buck asked, which as far as nicknames Zach had blessed him with, wasn’t terrible.

“Well, bro, apparently I can’t call you ‘fuck with a b’ or ‘Buckinator’ or-”

“O-okay, right, I get it.” Buck replied, because he did not need a rundown of all the terrible nicknames Zach had blessed him with, “I get it.”

“But for real, is there,like, some sort of, ya know, like, three-…” Zach trailed off as he chewed his bottom lip. 

“No.” Lucy answered with a laugh, “Mind out of the gutter.”

Zach flopped onto his back across the rug, hands behind his head, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, I mean, a man can dream. Literally, can ya even imagine that, it would be so ho-”

A beer can hit him square in the chest before he could finish. “Ouch! Uncalled for, man!”

“Children, please, behave.” Tommy ordered, just as the door bell rang. Which was strange, given everyone was here. 

Zach rolled over and up, in a move that made Tommy’s back hurt just watching it as he skipped to the door and opened it to reveal Sal.

“Sal?” Tommy greeted, in surprise, not that he minded. He just hadn’t seen Sal since the baseball game, when Sal’s team (the underdogs) had pulled an amazing comeback out of their hat to win the game, and Sal had kissed him (and Buck) on the cheek in pure joy.

Sal meanwhile looked at Zach, “You gonna stand in my way all day, or you gonna move?” 

Zach scoffed at the older man, stepping aside with a flourish, waving him in like royalty . “Damn man, always so grouchy, bro. But ta-da; look, I invited Eeyore.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just call me?”

Zach shrugged it off, “Clearly, my man, Tommy here is Winne the Pooh, except, with pants, which is legit sad but I digress, and obviously Buck is Tigger, and ya know my man is bouncing on it for all real, and then we have Lucy as Rabbit, who think she’s the smartest one in the room but mmm, is she? Debatable, and then you, the always grumpy, slightly dark fucker that you are, are Eeyore.”

Lucy pursed her lips, “Zachy….”

And that’s how Zach found himself on the doorstep of Tommy’s house.

**

As far as Sal was concerned, with all due respect to the fantastic, brave firefighter that Tommy was, with his Army background, the man was a pushover. 

He was a pushover before, he was definitely a pushover when it came to Buck, and he was equally a pushover when it came to Zach, which is why thirty seconds later (roughly) Tommy relented and let him back in.

So, as Sal grabbed a plate of starters, he leaned beside Tommy with a glint in his eyes, “So, do I call you Push over or Bend over Team Jacob?” 

**

Zach passed Sal a beer, complete with a “Well, if nothing else, bro, you and I share at least one thing in common.”

“I somewhat doubt that, but go for gold”, Sal muttered, cracking the can open.

“Well, neither of us has kissed Buck,” Zach said simply, and every so slightly smug, because Zach still misunderstood the fundamentals of Sal. 

But also, Sal had kissed Buck on the cheek after his baseball team won. In a strictly sports guy kinda way, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that he had kissed Buck, so:

“Uh, well, I have kissed him, was one of the best nights of my life, actually.” Sal replied truthfully, then added as Zach’s face glitched, “And Gina didn’t mind in the least.” 

**

The door bell rang again, Zach looked up at Tommy from his drink and gave him a half shrug, “Not me, home boy, my gift to you was Sal, and Monster Truck tickets, ya welcome by the way.” 

Buck looked guilty, “Ah, I might have said something, in passing, to Ravi, so he was gonna swing by, uh, after shift.”

Zach opened the door, looked Ravi dead in the eye and asked in place of a greeting, “You haven’t kissed Buck, have you?”

Now, Ravi was not a freshman when it came to Zach’s antics, but still, he blinked a few times, caught completely off guard. “…What, like recently?”

**

Sal was mid-tall tale about some extreme call out when Tommy, Sal and Chim were at the 118, just before Hen started, when Zach’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

KJ : U up?

Zach: Yo, it’s like 11pm

KJ: So… that’s a yes then 😉

Zach: Sorry, Tommy b’day bash

KJ: Ditch it 😏

Zach: Damn boy, I legit can’t

Sal frowned and glared at Zach, who was too busy staring at his phone and not paying enough attention to his story. “Oi, are you paying attention, pipsqueak?” 

Zach’s head sprang up, as he pretended to be engaged “Yo yo yo, calm ya farm Eeyore, I totz listen to your story, like, no cap.”

Ravi put his hand up in mock surrender as he just stared, slack-jawed at Zach, “Honest to god, I understand like nothing you say, by the way.”

“Anyway,” Sal said over them, “As I was saying, so…”

Sal continued his very interesting, very riveting story about something or other, as Zach’s eyes drifted back to his vibrating phone. 

KJ: Don’t be so lame 👎👎

Zach: N’aww, it’s a b’day thing

KJ: You don’t want head then?
Zach: Not from the b’day boy, ☠️ b-sides, legit think Buck got that under control

Zach: For T-bone, not me

KJ: Babe, don’t make me beg 🥺

Zach: Damn, chill. U makin me look sus rn

KJ: Thought u liked when I’m needy… 😈😈😈😈

Zach: I do but bruh, it’s Tommy’s night

KJ: And what about my night? Alone. Cold. No Zachy to keep me warm 🥶

Zach: Ugh, stop tryna guilt trip me, deadass not fair

Tommy raised an eyebrow as he toyed with the fidget spinner Lucy had gotten him, which was so out of date, but then again, so was Tommy. “What the hell are you giggling at, Zach?” He asked, eyeing Zach up suspiciously.

Zach slapped his phone screen down and grinned. “Yo, just a meme, crew. Chill, daddy, chill. Internet stay clownin’ me.”

Ravi slouched over the table, “You’re like, only a few years younger than me, and I don’t understand you.”

“Let me explain that for you,” Lucy said, “Physically, there is maybe two-three years between you… mentally there’s about ten or fifteen.”

“N’awww, cheers, Juicy, I’m, like, legit young and cool,” Zach said proudly, chest puffed.

Ravi clicked his tongue, “Yeah, no, I don’t think that’s what she meant.” as Lucy shook her head fondly and Sal looked puzzled as to why they put up with Zach. 

Meanwhile, Zach’s phone buzzed again, and again, and again.

Zach: chill babe, i ain’t ghostin. it’s t-bone’s night.

KJ: mhm. sure. u probs don’t even miss me rn 😢

Another buzz. Zach’s jaw dropped, probably literally, because on his phone screen, KJ on his bed, in just his tight, black underwear, showing off his thick bulge that strained against his briefs, one hand palming himself, the other flipping the camera off with a lazy smirk.

Zach hunched over his phone. Another text popped.

KJ: bet ur lil firehouse fam can’t make u this hard. 😈
Zach: dude. i’m at a table. chill tf out.
KJ: nah. get over here. i’m throbbin n u know it’s for you.
Zach: broooo 😩 this some straight up entrapment rn.
KJ: call it what u want. i call it yours. 🥵

Sal leaned forward suspiciously. “Why’s your face red, shrimp? You catching a fever?”

Zach shoved the phone in his pocket, voice squeaking. “Nah, nah, I’m chill. Totally chill. No one is more chill than me, bro, like… uh, yeah.”

“Well, I’m convinced,” Lucy said.

**

By one am in the morning, Tommy found himself long past ready for the party to be over. It is, after all, no longer his birthday and he is old, sue him.

Zach half-stumbled, half-draped an arm around him, then promptly slid down his front like melted butter.

“Teeeeeeeeee-bowwwww,” Zach slurred, grinning up at him with glassy eyes. “Yo, did you… did you actually prefer Sal? Or would you rather’ve had, like… a butt plug?” He hiccupped hard, then whispered like it was some sacred secret. “You can tell meeeeee. I won’t say nothin’ to Lu-”

He cut himself off with another hiccup, then dropped his head lazily against Tommy’s chest.

Tommy stared down at him, deadpan. “Mm. I have no idea what that sentence was supposed to be. But your taxi’s here.”

Zach squinted, frowning. “Taxi? Dawg, just uber. Like… c’mon. Easy peasy.”

Tommy sighed. “No. Because if I ordered the Uber, it would be under my name. This way, it’s under your name, and you’re fully responsible for whatever chaos you unleash on the ride home.”

“Damn bro, that’s, like, next level thinking.” Zach declares, clearly impressed by Tommy’s problem solving. “Uh, but-” he pauses, “What were you saying?”

“Come on, the taxi is outside.”

**

Zach woke up, fully dressed, on top of his bed. He rolled over and promptly falls out of the bed onto the floor with a heavy thunk and a groan. He lay there for a few minutes, okay, probably closer to half an hour, this is a judgement free zone afterall, before he finally dragged himself to his cellphone and used Face ID to unlock it.

First thing first, he has to text K.J. good morning. 

Zach: Yo, morning, babe

With a grunt and a headache, Zach got up, took a shower, brushed his teeth and drank an entire blue Powerade, until he felt a bit more normal.

No text reply from K.J yet.

Zach goes for a quick morning run and grabs a light breakfast from the overpriced cafe. As he waited for the coffee, he opened Snapchat, and took, frankly, an amazing selfie. The sunlight hits just right, he’s just the right level of sweaty, where it looks sexy and not gross, and his hair is messy but in a fun way.

It's actually a work of art, so he saved it to his camera roll before he sends it on to friends on Snapchat. 

He gets a handful of replies, which he checks once he finishes his run, including ‘Ew, gross’ from Lucy and ‘🔥🔥🔥’ from Cassidy, but none are from KJ. 

Which is fine, K.J. might be at work, or asleep.  

He still sent a sneaky Instagram reel (or two) through, totally casually, of course. You know, K.J. doesn’t even have to reply to them; he could just, like, react or something.

Nothing.

**

Zach is cool, right?

Like he doesn’t overreact, or snap, or worry.

He is an adult.

K.J. is an adult.

They’re both busy. 

**

If Zach had a dollar for every time he bumped into someone he hadn’t seen for ages while getting fuel, he would have two dollars, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it's happened twice in like a couple of months or so.

“Mister Howard.” A familiar voice calls out, and Zach turns to see a good-looking, middle-aged, white man with black hair in a fancy suit walk towards him.

“Yo mate, ah…” Zach can sort of place him, but not quite. He’s pretty sure he’s not the Waffle House guy. Then again, Zach didn’t see a lot of Waffle House guys, to be fair. 

“Ah, haha, that’s okay, Zach, Craig, Craig Rogers, I’m with Rogers, Lawson and Douglas Lawers, we work with your father.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Zach snapped his fingers as if he’d totally known all along. “You were my lawyer with the…”

“Simple misunderstanding at the open home, yes, total overreaction, anyway, funny bumping into you here. Looking good, have you taken up a role at your father’s asset company yet?”

Zach scratched the back of his neck, grinning lopsidedly. “Nah, still chasing the firefighter career path at the mo, bro.”

Craig’s smile twitched, the tiniest crack. “Ah. Hm. Well, that’s a… choice. Anyway, I look forward to catching up at the Howard Thanksgiving at the Bel-Air.”

“Oh? Uh, hadn’t heard about that yet,” Zach stammered, caught off guard. “But yeah, I guess… see you there.”

In the Howard world, invitations followed a strict order. First: Barbara and the three “real Howards.” Then, after everything was confirmed, Zach would get the call, because he was technically part Howard. Technically.

Then came the staffers and then the guest, so it was unusual that the family lawyer would know before him. Image was everything, and they couldn’t have a family member not knowing the basics if they got approached by someone. What would people think? 

“Good to catch up.” Craig’s tone wrapped the conversation neatly in a bow. He flicked a business card out from between his fingers like a magician, offering it with that same effortless smile. “Remember me if you get into any trouble, okay kid?”

And just like that, he was walking back toward his sleek black car, leaving Zach standing there with a pump in one hand, a business card in the other

Sitting in the purring WRX, Zach mused over his next actions, before he hit his head hit the headrest. “Siri, baby, call Dad.”

Siri’s automatic voice answered: Calling Daddy T

Zach flung forward, “No, stop, for fuck sake…”

“Zach, are you okay?” came Tommy’s calm voice.

“Wow, okay, hello to you too, T-bone.”

He could almost hear the eye roll, “The only time you ever call is when you're in trouble….”

“Okay, rude… but also, kinda fair… but no, this was, uh, like, pocket dial or something.” Zach explained awkwardly, “Not that I don’t love vibing with ya, for real, but, uh, Imma gonna ditch, okay.”

There was a sigh from Tommy down the phone, followed by a mutter that sounded like ‘this is my own fault,’ and then “Goodbye Zach, thanks for calling.”

Trying again, Zach this time used his fingers to scroll through his contacts to ring his actual father. 

Ring…ring…ring…ring…call forwarded…ring…ring…ring

“Hello, this is Howard Investment and Real Estate 2015 Limited, Sandra speaking. How may I direct your call?”

Zach groaned, forehead thunking onto the steering wheel. “Yo, Sandra, it’s Zach Anders- sorry, Howard. Zach Howard. Can I speak to my fath-Mr. G.J. Howard, please. Private matter.”

“Oh! Ah…” Sandra’s voice brightened with that fake-cheerful tone that made Zach’s teeth ache. “Mr. Howard is very busy right now, but his P.A. is on line two. Transferring you now.”

“Wait-” He started,because fuck dealing with Linda. The only woman who made Barbara Howard look like an angel. 

Click.

“Zachary, what a pleasant surprise,” came Linda Walters’ voice, cool and mature with just enough warmth to make it sound condescending. “How can we help you today? Another cheque, perhaps? Or a lawyer?”

Zach forced a grin at his own reflection in the rearview mirror. “Linda, how’s it hanging, beautiful? Your questions wound me.”

“Zachary, please. Get to the point.”

“Right. Look, I was just trying to touch base with the old man about Thanksgiving, because-”

“Oh, yes.” Linda cut in smoothly. “I understand. Zachary, you know your father acknowledges his obligations to you and his parental responsibilities. We endeavor where possible to build, foster, and maintain healthy connections.”

“Linda,” Zach sighed deeply as he slouched into the seat of the WRX, “I know my father.”

“As I was saying,” she continued, unbothered, “Mr. Howard would love for you to come to the family Thanksgiving, really, he would. However, as you are aware, your father is running for Governor, and this year there is… limited seating.”

“Oh. Right.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Linda said, crisp and matter-of-fact. “Just business. Your father must include people he normally wouldn’t, you understand, politics, optics, all that jazz. He also had to trim the Butlers' wife from the guest list this year.”

“Sure, cool,cool,cool. No problem,” Zach muttered, throat tight. “Thanks for… explaining that.”

“Always happy to help Zachary, now if there is nothing else?” 

And when the line clicked off, he sat there with his head against the wheel, the WRX engine humming beneath him, trying to decide whether to laugh or punch the dash.

**

Call it doing his job, or call it a distraction from K.J. and his family, Zach polished the shit out of the helicopter in front of him. 

Now, if Zach was humble, he would say he did a pretty good job polishing the helicopter. 

But if there is one thing Zach knows more than anything else, being humble is a suckers game. So, as he stood back and looked at the shiny red symbol of LAFD air dominance, he pulled out his phone and knelt to get a proper angle before he took a couple of photos for snapchat.

Something this cool deserved to be shared with the world. 

He casually sent it to K.J. as well, on top of the other, still unopened snaps. 

**

Tommy tapped Zach on the shoulder as they walked back from the truck after another false alarm. “You okay, Zach?”

“Why wouldn’t I be, bro?” Zach flashes him an easy-going grin. “We just spent two hours in bumper-to-bumper, lights and sirens, to rescue a yacht dude who was just drunk-pressing buttons. That’s living the dream, that’s goals, that's-.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Tommy replied firmly, “You’ve been… sort of down lately.”

“As in, not annoying.” Lucy added helpfully, “It’s concerning,”

Zach snorted as if he had no idea what either of them meant. “Concerning? Lucy, you’re legit acting like I’m some kinda-”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he whipped it out with Olympic speed, only to see a Domino’s promotion lighting up his lock screen. Which is cool. 

The grin faltered, if just for a second before he put it back into his pocket with a little bounce, “-some kinda tragic case, when really, I’m just hungry. And Domino’s knew but the joke is on them because I’m gonna smash back a kebab tonight my man….”

“Zach.” Tommy said with a sigh.

“Tommy” Zach replied with finger guns. “Relax, like, I’m fine, for real. Promise.”

Lucy arched an eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest, “Zach, you called me Lucy, and Tommy, well, Tommy.”

Zach’s face fell for a second, before he rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Yo, that’s wild team, legit, I don’t need whatever this is, okay, just, like, chill okay… I am fine. Cool?”

“Sure, whatever you say Zach.” Tommy agreed.

“Cheers, now, Imma get a coffee, you guys want one, or nah?” Zach asked, clearly itching to ditch. 

“We’re good,” Lucy answered, and Zach took off.

As he disappeared, Lucy looked over to Tommy, “He’s not fine, right?”

“Hell no,” Tommy answered. 

**

It wasn’t stalking because Zach was a car guy, and he liked to show off his WRX wherever and whenever. So turning up at a car meet was perfectly normal. Zach pulled up as two cars were doing burnouts, and looked across the sea of people and cars.

It was like heaven, if heaven was a) illegal, b) smoky and c) full of idiots drinking. 

Luckily, K.J.’s bright red Hellcat stood out, so Zach made his way through the crowd of people. 

“Howdy, stranger,” Zach called out, and K.J. literally jumped before his face changed, and he looked annoyed. “Been a minute since I heard from ya, was worried you had died…”

“Oh, hi, babe. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” K.J. said, but made no effort to greet him, which kinda stung. 

“Uh, yeah, well, I had a free night, and…” Zach gestured around at the cars, “Cars are my kinda thing too, ya know”

“Cool.” Came the reply. “It’s a good night, lots of sick cars out.”

Engines screamed in the distance as another pair of cars lit up their tires, smoke curling into the night sky. Music thumped from a dozen portable speakers. Zach shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, grinning at K.J. like this was just two bros catching up.

There was no need to accuse or snap, Zach reminded himself, he didn’t know what K.J. had been going through. There could be a good reason he hadn’t heard from him. Not even an invite to tonight.

“So, what’s good, bro? You been busy? Ghostin’ me on purpose, or just forgot how to use your phone?” He tried to keep it light, like it was a joke, but his eyes flicked to K.J.

“Bro? Can you not call me ‘bro’?” K.J. snapped, “We’re dating, loser.”

“Oh? Are we?” Zach pressed, as he chewed on his bottom lip, “Because, like, you’ve been straight up ignoring me for a couple of days.”

K.J. gave a soft laugh, shaking his head like Zach was being ridiculous. “God, Zach, you’re so dramatic. What? I don’t answer my phone for a bit, and suddenly I’m ghosting? Relax, babe, honestly, not that deep.”

Zach chewed his bottom lip, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Bit? Dude, I’ve sent you, like, a highlight reel of my week, and you’ve left me on delivered longer than Domino’s leaves me on hold, for real.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’m busy,” K.J. shot back, as if that should close the subject. His gaze drifted toward the Hellcat gleaming behind him, the crowd, anywhere but Zach. “You know, with work, with family. Not everything revolves around you, Pretty Boy.”

Zach scoffed out a laugh, too loud, bouncing on his heels. “Oh, sick, yeah, you’re right. My bad for wanting a ‘hey, what’s up’ from my boyfriend. Totally selfish, dick move even.”

“See, this is what I mean.” K.J. groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You twist everything into an argument. Frankly, it’s exhausting, honestly.”

Zach’s eyebrows shot up. “Exhausting? Me? Dude, I’ve literally done nothing, and you’ve not texted me back, and somehow I’m the problem? That’s wild.”

Zach huffed, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket, teeth clenched behind his easy smile. His voice dropped, quieter, annoyed. “Or maybe if you treated me like a boyfriend and not a spam caller, we wouldn’t be having it either.”

The engines roared again, drowning the silence that stretched between them. For a second, Zach thought he saw guilt flicker across K.J.’s face, but just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with that cold shrug and a smug little grin.

“Let’s just… not do this here, okay? Enjoy the night, Pretty Boy. Don’t make it a thing.” Then a moment of awkward silence before, “Maybe you should go.” Like a casual suggestion

Zach tilted his head, jaw tight as he tried to figure out what had happened here. “Do you want me to?”

This was the part where K.J. was meant to say ‘No, sorry, things have been rough/tough/blah blah (Zach didn’t actually care) please stay, we can just hang out and watch the street race.’

Instead.

K.J. didn’t even look at him, just rolled a shrug, already turning away. “Meh. Up to you, you’re a free person.”

That dismissal hit harder than any argument. Zach stood rooted to the spot for a moment, and just watched as K.J. greeted an old friend with a grin and a hug.

Whatever. All the cars here tonight were lame anyway.

** 

Lucy was waiting for Tommy when he got to work, “You gonna play daddy today?” 

Tommy grinned as he swung out of the truck. “Mhmm, too late for that for Donato. Already have.” He slung his bag over one shoulder, leaned in conspiratorially, and added cheekily, “Let’s just say Evan and I made the most of our morning off together… if you catch my drift.”

Apparently, Lucy did not find it funny as she wrinkled her nose in clear disgust.  “Okay, gross, you have been hanging around Zach for too long, also, deal with him, please; he’s unbearably sad today.”

With his bag slung over his shoulder, Tommy frowned, naturally concerned, “Unbearably sad? Zach?”

With a curt nod, Lucy looked at him, deadly serious, “Kinard, if Cap’ said to Zach, ‘I need you to erect the ladders for the training run later today’, what would you expect him to say?”

“Oh god.” Tommy sighed, already picturing it.

“Exactly, what we got instead was ‘Sure thing, Cap,right away.’ even the Captain was caught off guard,” Lucy said, “I asked what was wrong and he told me to Chill, so tag, you’re it.”

**

Tommy didn’t sneak, but he may have stood behind Zach for a full five minutes before he cleared his throat. 

“Shit… mother trucker…” Zach exclaimed, before turning to glare at him, “For fuck sake, Tommy, what are you doing? Trying to give a man a heart attack?”

“Sorry, was just admiring the way you’re putting the spanners away, in a tidy, organised manner, not like the probie I remember growling at six months ago.”

Zach glanced at the spanners, then at Tommy, “Right, well, chur bro, thanks for the appreciation,”

“I’m going to level with you, Zach, I don’t think you’re okay.”

“Okay, well, that’s…. That’s something.” Zach replied, not looking at him, “And…”

Then there was a moment, where Zach hid his face and wiped his nose, “Okay, real talk, like, just bro to bro, maybe I could do with getting something off my chest, like, not in a ga-”

“Stop, just stop. Having feelings isn’t gay, okay, and calling stuff ‘gay’ isn’t acceptable. Now, why don’t we have some real talk without the crap?” Tommy said firmly, but fairly, as he sat on one of the benches.

“No judging?” Zach asked.

“I’ll try,”

So, Zach laid on the dirty floor of the tool bay as he spilt his guts to Tommy, who, to be fair, at times struggled to keep track. Someone went to walk in, until Tommy’s ‘fuck off’ look convinced them it was better they pretend they had seen nothing and left. 

Tommy sighed, and rubbed his temple slowly as he tried to process the K.J. drama and then the family drama. Whoever said blood was thicker than water had apparently not met the LAFD. 

“Hold up, why did you sigh? Are you mad? Oh my god, I said too much-”

“No, no. As someone who is often on the receiving end enough times of your oversharing-”

“Hold up, when do I overshare?” Zach interrupted Tommy mid-sentence.

Tommy gave Zach his best ‘really’ look, before he scrolled through his phone messages and held his phone out on *that* picture. He probably should delete it. 

At least Zach had the common decency to look a bit guilty as he looked at the phone screen, “Oh, well, in my defence, that was meant for K.J. and not you, but, whatever, you're welcome.”

“I’m welcome? You know what, never mind, as I was saying, this was not oversharing. This was good, it’s important to be able to talk to people-”

Tommy was trying to be supportive here, which is why he did not appreciate the comment that followed from Zach. 

“Seriously? That’s your advice, Mister, I run rather than talk-”

“That’s not the point.” Tommy cut in, “Look, I’m sorry it didn’t work out with K.J,. but on the flipside…”

“Hold up, what do you mean?” Zach asked, confused as he sat up. “You don’t think it’s, like, over, do you?” 

With careful consideration, Tommy gently probed, “Well, do you? Do you think that you want to be with someone who treats you like that?” 

“I just wish I knew what I did, ya know, like, how do I wreck every relationship I’m in?” 

“I don’t think this is your fault,” Tommy reassured him.

Zach sniffed, trying to cover the wobble in his voice with a grin. “N’aww, dawg, you have to say that. It’s, like, bro code.”

Tommy shook his head, “Really, I don’t… so, mhm, thanksgiving?”

Zach shrugged like he didn’t care, which was clearly an act, “Yo, like, it’s not a big deal, right?”

Clearly, Tommy thought to himself, hence the hunched shoulders and the avoidance of any eye contact.

“It’s just, ya know, the only time that we come together like a family, and it’s awkward and cringe, but…”

The alarm blared, and Zach jumped to his feet. “Right, let’s go tackle fires, T-bone.”

Tommy jumped off the bench, “Sounds good, but hey, Zach, you know you matter, right? To me, Lucy, Evan…”

That earned him a cocky scoff, “Of course, I’m fucking amazing, bro.”

**

At the end of the shift, Lucy nudged Tommy, “What the fuck is he doing here?” and Tommy looked out to see a red Hellcat sitting in the public parking at Harbor. 

Great.

“Mhm, hopefully Zach kicks him to the curb,” Tommy muttered. “I haven’t liked him since the start.”

Lucy grinned, “Look at you, all protective of the single most annoying person here…” she paused for a second, “He does deserve better though, even if he’s a full-on pain in the ass.”

Meanwhile, Zach bounced out of the hangar towards the carpark, “Yo, bro, what are you doing here?”

K.J held up a Boba tea in his hands and shook it as a peace offering, “Seriously, babe, I've literally been inside you, and you still call me bro?” 

Zach’s steps faltered as his face went red almost instantly, and he ducked his head, scratching at the back of his neck. “Oh, uh…yeah, sorry, bro-babe. Babe-bro. It’s like… habit or some shit, ya know?”

K.J. rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged anyway. “God, you’re lucky you’re hot.” He pushed off the fender and pressed the drink toward him. “It’s like a thousand degrees out here, and they have a new flavor. With ice cream. You’ll love it, trust me, babe.”

Zach reached, before he stopped himself, and bit his bottom lip hard. “Hold up, babe. Last night you… didn’t care, like, at all. And now today it’s gifts? Like, what even is this?”

K.J. laughed lightly, brushing the question away with a tilt of his chin. “We’re doing this now? I had a crap day. I was short. My bad.” The shrug was easy, casual. “Look, I’m here now , aren’t I? You wanna keep punishing me or you wanna drink dessert?”

He stepped closer, fingers idly fussing with the hem of Zach’s shirt like they had all the time in the world. “Baby, c’mon.” His hand slid up, thumb tracing the notch of Zach’s collarbone, “Don’t make a thing out of a not-thing, please, I don’t have the energy for this.”

Zach swallowed, glanced at the boba . “Yeah, well it sure felt like a thing, no cap.”

K.J. blew out a breath as he grinned, “Yeah, cause you spiral,” K.J. said, soft, almost fond. “You go from ‘no text’ to ‘abandoned at sea’ in five minutes-”

“Uh, nah, it was two days.” Zach replied, “Two days of nothing.” 

K.J. blew out a breath through his nose, amused rather than apologetic. “And here we are, two days later, me bringing you your favorite like a good boyfriend. It evens out.” He tapped the cup against Zach’s knuckles until Zach reflexively took it. “Sip.”

“No, no. If I treated someone the way you’ve acted recently, Tommy over there would chew me out again, right, like, just some basic respect.”

With a subtle bounce on his heels, K.J. nodded, “Ah, there it is, yo boy, it all makes sense now.”

“Wait, what makes sense?” 

“You.” K.J. chuckled softly, leaning closer, hands on Zach’s shoulders now, gently massaging, “Your projecting so hard right now, it’s okay, honest.”

Zach made a noise of protest but K.J. continued, “Look, I get it, you’ve treated people like shit before, haven’t you? Spun out, ghosted, pulled your little Houdini act… maybe even been unfaithful? And now you’re worried I’m doing the same to you. But babe, that’s not me. That’s you looking in a mirror, honest.”

“Wow, okay, that’s wild-”

““Hey, hey.” K.J. cut in smoothly, brushing the protest away with a hand on his chest. “I’m not mad about it. We all mess up, yeah? But don’t make me the villain for your past mistakes. I’m here, right now, now do you wanna come to a meet up, or do you wanna sulk?” 

Zach shook the Boba tea in his hands, “It does look good… so, we’re, like, good? Because after last night…”

“We’re good Pretty Boy.” K.J. promised. 

**

Later that evening, under the stars, K.J and Zach laid on the warm bonnet of the Hellcat as K.J. rested his head on Zach’s chest, Zach’s fingers gently stroked K.J’s short hair. It was different to running your hands through a chick's hair, but also, strangely similar. 

“I really like you,” K.J. murmured suddenly, his voice breaking the soft chorus of crickets and the distant hum of highway noise. He shifted, burrowing closer into Zach’s chest as though trying to disappear into him. “You know that, right?”

Zach’s fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their gentle strokes. He let out a small, crooked laugh. “I did wonder,” he admitted quietly, the honesty sliding out easier than he expected.

That earned him a chuckle, low and rumbling, from somewhere deep inside K.J.’s chest. He tilted his head, just enough for his grin to catch in the dim starlight. “God, you’re such a sap,” he teased, his tone softening the words. “You look like a total tool half the time, swaggering around like you’re hot shit, but underneath it all? You’re just a sucker.”

Zach’s mouth twisted into a smile that landed somewhere between defensive and sheepish. “A sucker, huh?” he said, his voice dropping as he gave K.J.’s hair a playful tug. “I’ll show you just how much of a sucker I am.”

K.J.’s smirk widened as he pushed up off Zach’s chest, bracing himself on an elbow. “Oh yeah? Is that so, Pretty Boy?” His eyes glinted with mischief, daring Zach to rise to the challenge.

Zach was already there, his hands finding the edge of K.J.’s belt with ease. He leaned up, their faces close enough that his lips brushed against K.J.’s. “Well,” he murmured, low and promising, “we’ve got, like, three days to catch up on? That’s a long time without your cock in my life, legit, bro-babe…baby.”

K.J. laughed, “You’re an idiot.” 

**

Cassidy eyed Zach suspiciously as he came in the door, dumping his work bag on the floor. 

“You seem happier.” Cassidy started as he shifted on the couch to face Zach, who was already on his phone, no doubt on Twitter or Instagram. 

Zach smirked. “Yeah, well you know what they say, bro, sex solves most problems.”

Cassidy groaned and chucked a throw pillow at him. “Jesus, dude. TMI. This is a living room, not your afterglow confessional.”

Zach caught the pillow midair, still grinning. “Just spreading the good news, man. At least one of us is getting some.”

Cassidy flipped him the bird before he grabbed another pillow and shoved it behind his back. “So, did you invite K.J. to the beach party this weekend?”

“Yo, you don’t mind, king? Like, because that would be sick.”

Cassidy waved a hand dismissively. “No problem, man, besides, it’ll balance out the girls and the guys.”

Zach paused and did the maths in his head. There was Cassidy, Frank, Todd, and himself going, plus Emily, Amy and Tayla-ann going. So, even before K.J. it was four guys to three girls… so, that didn’t make sense, unless…

“Oh, funny.” Zach quipped, “So, what, I’m one of the girls now?”

“Well, I mean…” Cassidy trailed off with a smirk, “If the shoe fits…”

“Ya know, that’s kinda biphobic.” Zach retorted.   

“Whoa, whoa, easy there.” Cassidy giggled, “Let's not go throwing around hurtful statements. I called you a chick because you're a little bitch, not because you suck dick like a pro.”

Zach laughed, incredulous. “Oh so, I’m a little bitch now?”

Cassidy leaned back with that same smug energy. “Absolutely, you were all mopey over a boy, got a good dicking down, and now you’re happy, you’re not just a bitch, you are a basic bitch.” Cassidy teased with a grin. “But honestly, I’m impressed, you’ve gone, like, two weeks and kept your better half, that’s got to be a record.”

“Dude.” Zach grumbled, “You are an asshole.” A silence filled the room as Zach fidgeted with his phone, thumb hovered over the screen like he was about to text but didn’t. “So, uh… my ‘rents ditched me for Thanksgiving.” He said. 

Cassidy’s cocky grin faltered. “Wait, like… full ghosted? That’s messed up. Is it ‘cause of K.J.? Like, the whole dating-a-dude thing?”

Zach shrugged, eyes glued to the blank screen. “Nah. They don’t even know about him yet. Should probably just drop a couple’s selfie in the family WhatsApp, stir the drama llama pot.” He gave a weak chuckle. “Luckily the blood line has three other, full blood options.” 

Cassidy frowned. “So if it’s not him… then what’d you do?”

There were about 750,000 possible answers, none of which Zach had put together. He collapsed onto the couch with a thud, limbs everywhere. “No idea, bro. Guess I’m just too cool.”

Cassidy nudged him with his foot. “Nah. Fuck ‘em, man. You don’t need their turkey. You’re a strong, independent businesswoman.”

“Yeah…” Zach lied, voice too flat.

There was an awkward silence, the kind that creeps up when jokes don’t quite cover the cracks. Cassidy cleared his throat, then patted Zach’s shoulder in the most stiff, bro-coded version of affection possible.

“Hey. For real, though my mom loves you, bro.” He shrugged, eyes darting back to the TV. “She doesn’t even care that you’re a tool.”

“What can we say, she’s got great taste.” 

**

The same night, over at the Kinard residence, Tommy poured Buck a green tea as his boyfriend sat on the couch, nose buried in his laptop as he deep dived into some online articles. Tommy didn’t mind, in fact, sometimes Buck’s quiet presence was more calming than having to engage in conversation. 

He set the mug down carefully on the side table beside him. “Uh, thanks,” Buck murmured, not looking up from the laptop at first. When he finally did, he noticed Tommy hadn’t moved away. “Uh… i-is everything okay?”

Tommy scratched the back of his neck, and shifted on his feet. For a man who had kicked down doors in Afghanistan and carried people out of burning buildings, the words sticking in his throat now felt absurd. But this was different, because this was personal.

See, Tommy knew the pain that both Buck and Zach felt about terrible fathers and he really wanted to be able to sit down and have an earnest conversation with Buck as a partner, and with Zach as a mentor. 

But that meant knocking down his own doors first. 

“Umm, I was hoping…” he started, then trailed off. He hated how small his voice sounded, how vulnerable he suddenly felt when he was a grown ass firefighter with the LAFD. 

He should be tough, just like his father demanded. 

“Hoping?” Buck echoed gently, shutting the laptop and setting it aside. His full attention was on Tommy now, those blue eyes looking up at him like he was the only person who mattered.

Tommy cleared his throat and took a slow, deliberate breath. His chest felt tight. “Can we talk about my father?”

The silence stretched just long enough for him to regret opening his mouth. He wanted to retreat, run away again, only this time he was stuck in his own home, this is why you never invite people over, no where to escape. Perhaps he could say he was suddenly very tired and it didn’t matter. 

But then Buck leaned forward, elbows on his knees, expression softening.

“Yeah,” Buck said quietly. “Of course we can. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Tommy sat down, he kept his gaze on the steam curling up from Buck’s mug as a distraction. “I don’t… talk about him much…”

“Uh, yeah, I-I gather, the only time I think I’ve heard you even mention him was when, uh, Bobby…” Buck’s voice cracked on his former Captains and father figure name, “heart attack, when you compared him to Gerrard." 

With a smile, Buck leaned forward, “When you accused me of having Daddy issues.”

“I like your Daddy issues.” Tommy retorted with a wink, despite the butterflies in his stomach. 

“Well, uh, m-maybe y-you could let me like your Daddy issues too?” Buck pressed, as he took Tommy’s hand in his.

**

A couple of days later, Zach shoved the cooler into the back of Cassidy’s Gold Jeep Wrangler with a grunt, pausing just long enough to glance over at his beloved blue WRX parked mournfully by the curb. Poor Rexie had been benched today; turns out beach trips and minimal boot space weren’t a match made in heaven. 

So Cassidy’s Jeep was on duty.

Which was fine. The Wrangler was cool. You know… for a mid vehicle.

Zach straightened and stretched dramatically and then turned to find Cassidy swaggering over, Oakleys already on, shirt already off, and backwards cap.

“Yo, Zach attack” Cassidy called, as he tossed a half-empty protein shake towards the bin.

“Yo man, you missed by a mile, bro, pick that up,” Zach called, unimpressed with the shit shot and the littering. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, how’s the packing going?” Cassidy replied as he picked up the shake and put it in the bin.

“Oh yeah, locked and loaded, baby!” Zach slapped the tailgate like it was a teammate’s ass. “Beach isn’t gonna know what hit it, boys.”

Cassidy threw up a hand for a high five and then immediately turned it into a fake-out, running his fingers through his gelled hair instead. “Sick. Just don’t be weird today, alright? That means no Taylor Swift on the playlist, please, I beg you.”

“Can’t make promises I can’t keep, dude,” Zach grinned, “Don’t you know I’m like legit deep now. I have layers,” as he winked at Cassidy. 

“Of cringe?” Cassidy supplied, which earned him a dirty look. 

That’s when Frank rolled up, in his muscle tank that said Suns Out, Guns Out, mirrored shades, and flip-flops with socks. He was dual-wielding a six-pack in one hand and a couple of bags of Doirtos. At least he had good taste in chips.

“Is Zach bringing the cringe?” he called, tossing the Dorito’s into the backseat. “Because I brought snacks, vibes, and liquid sunshine boys.”

“Dude, you’ve actually eaten most of the snacks already,” Todd muttered, strolling over with beach towels flung over his shoulder and a Bluetooth speaker already blaring something vaguely offensive. His shades were white and obnoxiously large, his tank said No Regerts (yes, regerts, not regrets, on purpose)

“Clearly you don’t need anymore.” Frank quipped back, “Starting to go from six pack to four pack there, bro.” 

Todd flipped him off. 

As Cassidy lightly punched Zach in the shoulder with a smile, “So, K.J. is…”

“Gonna meet us there.” Zach replied casually, as he fished the car keys out of his pocket with a jangle. 

“What, he doesn’t trust your driving?” Cassidy teased, which was a weird flex given out of the two of them, Zach was the one who hadn’t crashed. 

“Ha!, more like he wouldn’t be seen dead in a Jeep.” Zach replied, “Zero to sixty in a hundred years isn’t his scene.”

“Oh, that’s weird, because he’s dating you and you’re pretty slow there Zach attack.”

Zach was halfway through his eye-roll when Frank pounced, throwing an arm around his neck and dragging him into a vicious noogie.

“Get off me, you caveman!” Zach squawked, flailing like a feral cat until he broke free. His hair now looked like he’d been electrocuted in a wind tunnel instead of the meticulously styled look it had been a moment ago. 

“Dude, you look like a rejected anime side character,” Todd cackled, tossing a beach towel into the pile.

“Are you two done dry-humping or should we give you some alone time?”

Zach flipped them all off. “Y’all are toxic, like full send red flag energy…honest to God, I should've-”

“Zach,” Frank interrupted smoothly.

“What?”

“Shut the fuck up and drive, Barbie.”

“Dude, it’s Zach attack, asshole.” Zach shot back as they all jumped in the Jeep.

**

The drive to the beach was uneventful, if loud. The Jeep pulled up at the set of lights next to a convertible with four certified snacks sitting in it, and Cassidy tapped Zach on the shoulder, “Dude, dude, rev the engine.”

“Bro, what about Emily?”

“Bro, if you don’t, I’ll tell K.J. you sent a dick pic to Tommy for his birthday…” Cassidy threatened, as he checked himself out in the mirror. 

“First off-” Zach went to snap, before he was cut off by Cassidy. 

“Just do it.” Cassidy hissed, “Before the lights change and we lose them forever.” 

Zach sighed, then revved the engine like he was trying to impress someone’s dad. The girls in the convertible looked over, and one of them smirked, another rolled her eyes, while the third gave a slow thumbs-up that might have been sarcastic.

Cassidy grinned. “There we go. That’s the spirit. Daddy Jeep coming in hot.” as he was already halfway out the passenger window, and flashed his best fuckboy smile as he threw up a lazy peace sign at the girls in the convertible.

“Ladies!” he called, voice oozing confidence and zero shame. “We got vibes, we got tunes, and we got sunscreen with SPF 69, what more do you need, baby? Can we get your number?”

Frank leaned out from the backseat like a Labrador off leash, slapping the top of the Jeep. “Yeah, what do you ladies say? Wanna cum with us?”

Luckily the light finally turned green, and Zach hit the gas. Well, as much as you can hit the gas in the Jeep Wrangler. 

“Drive, Barbie!” Frank hooted, punching the roof. “Ladies, follow us!”

As the convertible roared past them with way more horsepower and at least ten times the dignity.

“She totally gonna think about me later,” Cassidy said, still watching the taillights disappear.

“In your dreams,” Todd muttered, trying not to laugh. 

“In her dreams,” Cassidy grinned.

**

K.J. was already there when they arrived, and he had already introduced himself to the girls, chatting away as they pulled up.

“There’s my hot lil firefighter.” He called out, jogged over to Zach and wrapped an arm around his waist as Zach spotted Leo lurking in the corner. “Oh, I brought Leo along, I hope that’s all good with you.” 

Zach nodded, “Sure, br-babe, mmm, the more the merrier, ya know.” 

Meanwhile, K.J’s hand roamed down Zach’s back, as he openly groped Zach in public. Mentally, Zach had to remind himself this was fine. He was more touchy feely of guys when he was straight. And no one here cared. He didn’t care. 

Except he did squirm slightly as K.J. grabbed his ass, but brushed it off with a grin. Afterall, K.J. was hot and his, and if K.J. were a chick, he would have already pashed him, hard and fast, just to make a point. 

“Fucking faggots.” Mr Howard all but shouted as he stormed down the hallway as his older half brother followed. 

“Dad, we need their votes.”

Mr Howard turned, face red, “Did you see the way Ramon kissed him? Like it was acceptable. Those people have no shame, no fucking shame.”

Mr Howard paused, and looked sixteen-year-old Zach dead in the eye, “A Howard never deals with immoral filth like that, even a half-Howard, remember that, boy.”

“Yeah, because this family is the epitome of morals” Zach muttered. After all, affairs, kicking people out of their family homes and bankrupting businesses on purpose were all morally superior to two guys kissing.

“What did you say?” Mr Howard growled, and Zach swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Dad, don’t bother with him, but I beg you, think of the controlling share interest.” His half-brother pleaded, before he shot Zach a look, “Honestly, Zachary, learn to shut the fuck up.”

“Earth to Zach?” K.J. teased as he looked up at Zach, puzzled as Zach leaned in and gave K.J. the most chaste kiss against the cheek he had ever given anyone. 

It was embarrassing.

And it did not get Leo’s approval: “Fuck, that was the straightest shit I’ve ever seen.” 

**

Cassidy literally bumped into Zach on the beach as Zach dove for the beachball.

“That’s a foul.” Zach cried out playfully as Cassidy pinned him to the hot sand.

“Dude,” Cassidy whispered into his head, his body on top of Zach’s, “What is up with you?”

Zach tried to shift under Cassidy's weight, but he couldn't. “Bro, what do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been gayer with me than your own boyfriend, bro, now I know you aren’t shy or have any shame, so what is it?” 

Zach sighed, “Ya know, they’re legit gonna question what’s going on here.”

Cassidy pushed off him slowly, “Just saying, no one’s judging, for real.” and then Cassidy grabbed the beachball like the cheater he was and sent it flying back to the other side as Zach spat out the sand out of his mouth.

**

One beachball game over, and as the Bluetooth speaker blasted something with a heavy bassline, everyone was sprawled on towels or half-buried in a sand castle war that had turned competitive. Cassidy was digging trenches like he thought he was in a war movie, with sunscreen smeared on his face like camo.

It was the good kind of cringe, as the girls took selfies and then retook the same selfie to get the perfect snap. 

Zach came back from the cooler with a soda, and K.J. snagged his wrist before he could sit down. “C’mere, hot stuff.”

“In front of the kids?” Zach joked and jerked his chin toward Emily and Amy, who were bickering over the Snapchat filters.

“They’re older than you, wiser, and possibly better looking too.” K.J. pulled him in anyway, until Zach ended up half in his lap, soda can still cold in his hand.

Zach laughed nervously at first, glancing around, but nobody seemed to care, of course. Cassidy was right, Zach had done gayer shit before, and no one said anything. Speaking of,  Cassidy just gave him a quick eyebrow raise like, finally, and went back to piling sand on Leo and Todd.

“Relax, babe.” K.J. leaned up, brushing his lips against Zach’s jaw. “Nobody’s gonna excommunicate you from beach-ball church, honest.”

Zach huffed, but finally let his shoulders drop. He took a sip of soda, set it in the sand, and then, in one quick move, swung a leg over so he straddled K.J.’s lap. The girls looked up from their photo sesh and wolf-whistled.

“Oh my god,” Emily cackled, “this is like a Netflix teen drama.”

“Bro…” Leo shielded his eyes. “Get a room.”

“Naahhhhhhhhhhhh.” K.J. smirked, before Zach leaned down and kissed him properly this time. Not the awkward cheek peck, not the Christmas-aunt kiss, no this was full on, tongue action kiss.

When they broke apart, Zach was grinning like he’d just scored the winning touchdown. “What can I say? Gotta give the people a show.”

K.J. laughed, face flushed red, so clearly Zach had done something right, “You, Pretty Boy, are an idiot… but you’re my idiot.” 

**

As he lay on the warm sand, with the sun above him, Zach tilted his phone above his face, and  squinted against the glare until the angle caught his jawline just right. He snapped the shot, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as he scrolled through filters, brightened the color, and touched it up with the photo app until it looked like something out of a glossy ad.

Perfection.

“Hey babe, whatcha doing?” K.J. asked as he dropped onto the towel beside him. He stretched out lazily, one arm behind his head, his shadow cutting across Zach’s chest.

“Posting this totz sick as selfie to insta,” Zach explained proudly, and spun the phone in his hand so K.J. could see the freshly edited shot. He grinned wide, dimples showing. “Like, don’t I look fucking hot. Hash tag beach bro, hash tag sex on the beach.”

“Ah, okay.” K.J. muttered, the sound low, almost lost under the bass-heavy track thumping from the Bluetooth speaker a few towels over. His hand trailed absently across Zach’s chest, tracing down toward his stomach in a slow line.

Zach glanced at him, grin faltering. “Yo, babe, is everything all good? Like, you seem down, and that’s not the beach vibe, for real.”

K.J. exhaled sharply and rolled away onto his back, the towel bunching under his shoulder as he stared up at the cloudless blue sky. “It’s just, I guess I struggle to understand why you feel the need to slut yourself out to strangers online when you have me, but, whatever.”

“Whoa, bro, that’s not… that’s…” Zach stuttered, caught off guard by the comment. “Like, huh, i-it’s just…” 

K.J. pulled out his phone and opened Zach’s Instagram, full of very vain snaps, mostly shirtless, a couple that hinted at further, as K.J. opened the latest post and scrolled down. “I mean, what am I meant to think when all these Insta baddies commenting, and you like them, sooo.”

“Aww, dude, come on, I have to like them, like, I can’t just…”

“Can’t just save your attention seeking for me?” K.J. asked, as he played with his board shorts string. 

“N’aaww, legit, your attention is the most important to me, for real, but, like, you have shirtless pics on your Insta too, I know ‘cause I screenshotted them to my camera roll for when you’re not around, ya know?” Zach teased with a wink and a jack off gesture.

K.J. simply nodded, “Look, maybe I’m overthinking, but there is a difference between my candid pics, and you deliberately slutting yourself out there like you’re gonna start an OnlyFans, you get me babe?” 

There was a beat, with only the bass of the Bluetooth radio in the background, before Zach turned his phone off, tucked it face-down on the beach towel and scooched closer until their thighs touched. 

“Look,” Zach said, “I like the attention sometimes, no lie, and I know it’s stupid. But you’re the one I want to be with, legit. If it makes you feel like shit, I’ll tone it down. I don’t want you thinking I’m out there fishing. Hash tag serious vibes.”

K.J. watched him carefully and ever so slightly judgmental as well. “Look, don’t promise something you won’t keep just because I’m upset, okay? Because that’ll hurt more.”

“I won’t,” Zach said. “I’ll do whatever. Maybe…maybe tag you sometimes? Post a pic of us? Hashtag relationship goals, hashtag taken, hashtag my hot-ass boyfriend”

“Yeah, maybe, I’m probably being dramatic, don’t mind me.”

“N’aww man, it’s okay, babe.” Zach leaned in and pressed himself against K.J.’s side, tucking into the crook of his neck, the smell of sunscreen and sand hitting his nose.

And for a beautiful, if fleeting moment, it was calm, right up until a rogue beach-ball came sailing out of nowhere and smacked into their heads, bouncing off into the sand with a dull thud.

Zach yelped, as he rubbed the back of his head and K.J. cursed out loud.

“Sorry,” Leo called out with a scowl, before he casually added, “My bad team.” 

**

Crashed out on the couch, Zach half-turned his head towards Cassidy, his eyes half-lidded from the heat of the day, and the Netflix menu screen was ignored in the background. “Yo, am I a bad boyfriend?”

“Probably,” Cassidy replied without hesitation, which frankly was a bit rude, and he continued to scroll through his phone. Hell, Cassidy's thumbs didn’t even pause for a moment.

Zach’s head snapped up, offended to the max. “Brooooo.” He dragged the word out, as if it might guilt Cassidy into retracting it, which it didn’t.

“Well, you asked,” Cassidy said with a shrug, eyes never leaving the screen. “And, like, as your mate, I’ve gotta give it to you straight, Queen. Your track record? Not great.”

“Cheers,” Zach muttered, rolling onto his back dramatically, one arm draped across his forehead like a Shakespearean tragedy. “Guess I’ll just wither and die then.”

Cassidy finally glanced over the top of his phone, unimpressed. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not a bad boyfriend, you’re just…” he waved at Zach as he struggled to think up the words, “You’re just you. Okay, dude, where has this come from? Did K.J. say something?”

“Nah, nah, just… okay, kinda, but I think I’m overthinking it, right?” Zach replied with a slight pout, “Is my Insta, like, too full on?”

Cassidy actually thought for a second, “Like, how so? I mean, I did walk in on you cooking in the nude for insta-”

“I cropped the video, you see nothing, just, ya know, like, a lil hint of the ‘Vee’ line.”

“Right, is K.J. worried that you’re getting DM’s?” Cassidy asked, “Oh, Zach, please tell me you don’t have a backup again, I thought you learnt after Fiona-”

“No, not like that at all, just K.J., promise…” Zach chewed his lip and looked over his Insta profile again. 

**

Again, it was Lucy who tracked Tommy down, catching him by the lockers as he tugged his jacket off the hook. She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, brows knit together in that way that meant she’d been sitting on a question too long.

“What’s up with Zach?” she asked. “I thought you were gonna fix him, Kinard.” 

Tommy stilled, half-turning toward her. “Morning Donato.”

Lucy huffed, “Sorry, morning Kinard, now, Zach?” 

“How do you mean?” His voice was casual, but the faint crease in his forehead betrayed him.

Lucy sighed, unlocking her phone with a quick swipe before shoving the screen toward him. “Our favorite himbo bunny has nuked his entire online persona overnight. All his shirtless pics? Gone. Vanished. Like they never existed.”

Tommy blinked at the empty-looking feed, then let out a low chuckle. “What, and you miss seeing half-naked Zach pop up on your phone?” he teased, raising a brow. 

Lucy rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “Don’t act like you’re not worried too. That boy lives for the validation. Him deleting that stuff? Something’s up, I can tell.”

Tommy handed the phone back, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. He pulled on his jacket slowly, “Alright,” he said, quieter this time. “I’ll talk to him. Make sure everything’s all good.”

**

The 217, and 107 (Alex’s firehouse) found themself on a call together after a petrol tanker in downtown L.A had turned over in the middle of peak hour traffic.  

Now, technically, did Zach perform a slightly dangerous stunt? Yes.

Did Zach save the petrol tanker driver? Also yes.

Did Tommy and Lucy chewed him out like a kid? Most definitely yes. Talk about an over reaction. 

Which is why he did not need stupid Alex, of all people, also jumping on his back as he walked alongside the firetruck, during the clean up.

“That was stupid, reckless and-” Alex began, complete with a glare, as if Zach would care. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you my Commander? Or Cap’? No,” Zach shot back, his tone biting, jaw tight as he twisted on the spot and jabbed a finger at Alex. “We’re not even with the same station, so I don’t have to listen to you.”

And honestly, all that was missing was Zach sticking his tongue out and going ‘nah-nana-nah’ at him to complete the picture. 

“You’re lucky I’m not, or else you would be sorry,” Alex countered, his accent cutting through the roar of L.A in the background. He gestured toward the debris-strewn street, “Do you think, or is that-”

He never got to finish. In a blur of movement, Zach’s hand shot out, and seized Alex roughly by the jacket and shoved him hard against the firetruck. The clang of his back hitting the metal made Alex’s breath catch.

For a moment, Alex thought Zach was about to punch him. 

“Are you out of your mind-” Alex started, but the words dissolved as a deafening screech tore across the street.

A screech of tyres, the smell of burning brakes as a silver sedan skidded sideways, and stopped mere inches from the spot Alex had been standing not two seconds earlier. The driver sat wide-eyed behind the wheel, one hand clamped over their mouth, the other still white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

Breathing heavily, Alex realized the only reason he wasn’t under those wheels was because Zach had grabbed him and pressed him flat against the firetruck.

Pinned there, Alex became acutely aware of Zach, the younger man's arm braced across Alex’s chest, his body close enough that Alex could feel the heat radiating off him, the faint smell of smoke and sweat and engine grease clinging to his uniform.

Zach’s eyes darted to the car, then back to Alex, the cocky edge gone from his expression. For once, he looked rattled.

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with what almost happened, before Zach exhaled, “Always be aware of your surroundings.”

Which was good advice, and would have been a great mic drop moment if the younger idiot hadn’t then promptly turned and walked straight into the side mirrors of the firetruck with a bang.

**

“How’s the head?” Tommy asked as they climbed into the truck, giving Zach a sideways look.

“I haven’t had any complaints so far.” Zach shot back with a wink, slumping into the passenger seat.

“Nice Elvira reference.” Tommy complimented, surprised that Zach knew the movie.

“Huh?”

Yeah, that tracked, Tommy had thought it was strange Zach would know a 1988 cult classic as he exhaled through his nose, complete with a slight shake of his head. “Never mind.” He started the engine, then casually added, “So, anyway, I noticed you’ve had quite the refresh on your Insta.”

Lucy hummed quietly next to him while Zach lit up instantly, practically glowed with pride. “Yeah, boy! That’s growth, right? Like, legit mature as fuck, hashtag responsible.”

Tommy raised a brow, “You just about got yourself flattened by a petrol tanker literally five seconds ago,” he reminded Zach. 

Zach shrugged, like Tommy was pointing out the weather. “Meh, social media growth is, like, for real,  not the same as professional growth, my man. Like, two totally different ball games, ya feel me, like...” Zach clicked his fingers for a few seconds, “...Like, Basketball and the NBA, bro.”

“Bro.” Tommy mocked, “Those are the same thing, NBA stands for National Basketball Association."

“Po-tat-toe, Po-tat-toh” Zach rhymed.  

Lucy cocked her head in disbelief, “That’s…. That’s not how that saying works, Zach.”

“Ahhhh, I think you’ll find that is exactly how that, Donato, maybe try looking it up.” Zach retorted with a grin, completely unaware of how wrong he was. 

“If you say so.” Tommy said to himself as the truck made its way back to Harbor. 

Chapter Text

Sitting in the lounge, Buck felt his pocket vibrate. In case it was Maddie coming over with Jee, he pulled it out and looked at the screen before he grinned to himself at the message.

Alex: Do you have bratty’s phone number

Alex: I mean Zach

Buck grinned like an idiot as Tommy eyed him suspiciously.

"Evan?"

**

Unknown number: Hej, this is Alex. From the 217. Is this Zach

Zach: Yo, texting? That’s so old school, Everyone DM’s now

Alex: I am not DM’ing you. I just wanted to say Thank You for saving my life

Zach: Gotta earn that scout badge somehow bro

Zach: You know, helping the elderly.

Alex: Are you ever not a brat?

Zach: Are you ever aware of what’s happening around ya?

Alex: You walked into your firetruck mirror

Zach: Okay, rude. Anyway, gotta bounce

Zach tossed his phone onto the couch cushion and stretched, acting like nothing had happened. Which was the truth, nothing had happened. Alex had just finally thanked him for saving his life. Overdue if you asked Zach. 

K.J. narrowed his eyes from across the room. “Who are you messaging?”

Zach gave a nonchalant shrug, grabbing for the remote. “Just someone from work. One of the guys…”

“Tommy?” K.J. asked, half curious, half suspicious.

Zach didn’t exactly lie. He just smoothed out the truth until it looked harmless. “Ah, just another co-worker.”

K.J. hummed, satisfied enough, and went back to scrolling TikTok, the glow of the screen painting his smirk. Zach leaned back against the couch, drumming his fingers against his thigh, phone buzzing once in his pocket.

Thanksgiving:

Zach and the word boundary doesn’t always go together, for better or worse.

He barges into K.J.’s lounge with both hands full of Burger King bags, because as awful as kebabs are, K.J. prefers BK and Zach knows where his brownie points lie. The door slams behind him and K.J., who’d been half-asleep and perfectly horizontal on the couch, shoots upright like he’s been electrocuted.

“Babe, who let you in?” K.J. huffs, and he looks so cute, half asleep and scowling like Mister Thomas. 

“Ahhh, I did? Duh.” Zach replied, chucking a bag of B.K at K.J before they get down to B.J. 

That’s quite witty Zach thinks to himself, but before he can voice his clever saying, K.J. glares at him.

“Knock, and wait.”

There is nothing else, no thank you for the bag of food that landed on the couch next to K.J. or ‘just kidding’ or anything, so Zach just kinda stands there for a millisecond.

“Oh, uh, well, I mean, like, you knew I was…”

“How would you like it if I just came into your place unannounced?”

Now, Zach isn’t sure how he’s meant to answer that, because a) people come and go at his place all the time, he has like four or five flatmates (depending on the situation) and plus…

“It be kinda hot, if you, like, just walked in naked with beer, ya  know, like a dream come true… or, mmmm-” Zach scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks heating up, “Ya know, if you came over one night, in, like, one of those masks, and tied me to the bed and cut my boxers off… if you wanted?”

“Babe, I was being serious, can you please just knock and wait to be let in, in case, I dunno, I’m doing something-”

“Woah, chill, I’ve seen you in, like, far more compromising positions than chilling on the couch.” Zach pointed out with a grin.

K.J. sighed,clearly getting annoyed now at Zach’s obviousness “Awww, just, please, listen to me. Knock, then wait for me to answer the door, okay? It’s pretty simple.”

“Sure, sorry, my bad babe.” Zach replied, “But, like, Burgers?” He gestured down at the bag by K.J’s feet. “So, do you forgive me?”

With a chuckle, K.J. smiles, “Yeah, cheers babe… so, umm, tell me, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? I was thinking maybe I could meet your family?”

It’s funny how you can know something is coming, and it still hits you like a freight train. At some stage, Zach was going to have to tell K.J. the truth about his family. It’s just, it had never gotten that serious before. 

Plus, even if Zach wanted to take K.J. to thanksgiving, he couldn’t change the fact he wasn’t even invited. 

And then:

Well, K.J. was a guy - and as much as Zach loved winding up his father, he really did, from sharing liberal memes about basic rights to the family group chat to making donations to homeless shelters in his father's name, it was still a big step.

Which was strange, because Zach had long accepted he was the black sheep of the family, and he didn’t care. Really. It was fine, people underestimated him or didn’t expect much from him, and it was great. 

Up until bloody Tommy and his whole ‘you can be better’ mantra bullshit.

So, Zach had hoped that they could make it through Thanksgiving before unpacking this whole conversation. 

But before Zach could put all of that into any sort of words for K.J., K.J. shuffles on the couch.

“Well, Zach Anderson, sorry, Howard, isn’t it?” and he pulls out a familiar looking black Amex card out of his pocket, and holds it up. 

Zach almost fainted from shock, but he was far too manly to faint, so he just sort of stumbled forward as he felt the blood rush. “W-wait, how- how did you get that?” and his hands went to his pocket, to fish out his wallet. 

Maybe it wasn’t his, because how would K.J. have - and why would K.J. have it?  

“Oh, jesus, it is yours, no need to check.” K.J. says matter of factly, but it doesn’t explain why he has it. Or how he got it.

K.J. seems to read the questions on his face, because he answers the unasked question, “I was looking for a twenty the other day for our pizza, and well, imagine my surprise when I found out I was living my own ‘Hallmark’ movie moment. The secret son of a millionaire…”

Zach sits slowly down on the couch, letting his head flop back, “Bro-” before he caught K.J.’s look, “Babe, look, I was gonna tell you-”

“What, that you’re actually super rich?”

That wasn’t true, Zach lived on his own credit card, which spent ninety percent of it’s life maxed out, and pretty much a zero balance bank account and over draft fees.

The last (and only time) Zach had used the black Amex from daddy (real daddy, not Daddy-T) was when he had to pay for Mister Thomas (the grumpy ginger cat) vet bill before Tommy and Buck adopted him. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to say having Mister G.J. Howard as a father hadn’t helped him, or that he hadn’t relied on daddy’s money occasionally, but Zach also tried to be as independent as possible. 

More because there was something about needing people who thought you were a failure.

Still.

K.J. twisted on the couch, “I just don’t get why you would lie to me.” As he passed back the card, which, instead of feeling just stupidly heavy (like we get Amex, this is a fancy card, did it have to be so fucking heavy), also felt heavy with guilt.

“I-I-I… like, for real babe, I didn’t mean to… not lie, it wasn’t a lie.”

“Is your last name Anderson?” K.J. presses.

Fuck.

Zach’s throat closes. “Technically, no. But I go by it. I’m not a Howard.” He hears himself and wants to crawl under the coffee table. “Well, I am, but... it’s not… fuck, I dunno how to put it… it’s just, I’m not a Howard Howard-”

“Because your mom was a cleaning lady who happened to a bit of a slut like her-”

Zach is not a violent person, but he grabbed the front of K.J.’s shirt tightly, “Listen carefully, okay, very carefully- I’m sorry I fucked up, I am, you have no idea - but don’t you ever, ever, ever say anything like that about my mother again.”

K.J. swallowed, “Wow, okay-”

“No, I mean it, okay, she’s off limits.” Zach snapped, face red, fist still curled up in the front of K.J.’s shirt. 

“I got it, I got it babe,” K.J. agreed as Zach finally released K.J.’s shirt. “Shit, babe, you have issues…”

Fuck.

“Sorry, I should go” Zach murmured, guilt now pumped through his veins as K.J. grabbed him, softly.

“No, stay.” K.J. said gently, and pulled Zach’s arm. It wasn’t a hard tug, but it didn’t have to be, Zach let K.J. manhandle him into his lap, K.J. 's hand stroked his hair, comforting him. “Shh, it’s okay, I was just gonna say, you can come to my family thanksgiving if you like - it won’t be as fancy as yours, but less judgemental rich pricks running around.”

Zach looks up, eyes wet at the rim, stupid emotions. “Really?” His voice is small, which is embarrassing as fuck, so he coughs to clear his throat, “Uh, are you sure? I mean, I’d hate to gate-crash, ya know.”

“Oh, I mean, you had no problem gate-crashing before.” K.J. teases, before he kisses the top of Zach’s head, “Nah, the more, the merrier, and if you're a good boy you’ll get my mum’s famous stuffing and then I’ll stuff you later in my old bedroom.”

Zach half laughed, half cried, as he shook his head, “And my friends say you aren’t romantic.” 

**

One month later.

Rexie is a precision machine. A 2017 Subaru WRX STI, Zach’s pride and joy, and up until K.J., she was also his only semi-functional long term relationship. 

She has never let him down in her life.

But sometimes, she has a sick day, she’s only human. So she comes to an undignified stop out in the middle of nowhere, of course, with K.J. in the passenger seat.

“Did you really just cook the engine trying to impress me?” K.J. taunted from the passenger seat.

Zach shot him a wounded look. “Babe. Never. She’s, like, my baby girl, I’d never hurt her - I love her more than I love myself.” 

He popped the hood release, muttering under his breath, “I think the turbo went.”

Sadly, under the hood, the evidence was clear. The turbo was history (or herstory, Zach was, after all, pro feminist now, hash tag cultured).

“We could limp back to L.A…” K.J. suggested.

“Fuck right off.” Zach snapped, “The turbo is gone, I’m not risking more engine damage driving her any further, I’m part of triple A, but I only have the basic membership, with 5 miles towing.” Zach looked into the distance.

“Forget triple A, I have a mate who has a tow truck, he can tow us back to L.A.” K.J. replied, “And, he owes me, so he’ll do it for free. No charge for Pretty Boy, even if he has daddy’s black Amex that he could use…”

Zach stiffened, jaw tightening. “I’d rather not. You know that.”

“I know, I know.” K.J.’s voice softened into a purr, fingers brushing Zach’s arm. “Relax. Let me take care of you, okay?”

One phone call later, and what Zach was pretty sure was a blackmail attempt, and K.J.’s mate agreed to come out and pick them up:

In two hours.

“What do we do for two hours?” K.J. asked, looking around the deserted road.

Zach tapped his fingers against Rexie’s roof, thinking. About half a mile back they’d crossed a small ‘blink it and miss it’ kind of bridge over a river, which he’d clocked as the kind of spot that begged for detours and lounging in the sun. 

Hash tag summer lovin’ 

Zach thought about it for a moment, after all the weather was great, basically begging for it: then grinned. “Well, baby, there’s,like, a river, about half a mile back, looked like a wicked place to go for a quick dip.”

K.J. tilted his head, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. “Great idea. Except, shockingly, I forgot to pack my swimming trunks.”

Zach’s grin widened, wicked and unrepentant. “I mean, like, you have boxers on right? Or… ya know, you could always go skinny dipping, instant classic right?” as he tugged his shirt off and over his head, before he began to unbuckle his jeans.

K.J. folded his arms, amused. “The river is half a mile that way…”

“Yeah?” Zach asked, jeans half undone.

“And you’re stripping here?”

Zach shrugged, casual as ever, as he swung open Rexie’s back door to toss his clothes inside. “It’s handy to store my stuff now. Plus, look around, babe, like, there’s legit no one out here. Totz private.”

The universe, naturally, chose that exact moment to betray him.

With a low rumble, two eighteen-wheelers appeared on the horizon, roaring past in opposite directions, followed immediately by a Greyhound coach full of tourists craning their necks to see why a shirtless twenty-something was peeling off his jeans on the roadside.

Zach froze mid-motion, belt dangling, cheeks heating as a woman in the coach window actually waved. He shot K.J. a sheepish look. “Right. Then again… maybe I could always, uh… strip at the river.”

K.J. burst out laughing, bending double against Rexie’s hood. “Damn it babe, you’re literally a walking public indecency charge.” before he snatched Zach’s shirt out of his hands, “But then again, there’s nothing saying you have to wear a shirt…”

Zach smirked, smug and sexy as the sun beat down on them, “Huh, funny, because I thought you didn’t like me showing off? I remember a lil spat about my Insta being too slutty…”

“Oh, it was you, attention whore,” K.J. grinned, as he stepped forward and pinched one of Zach’s nipples, “But, see, here I’m in control, so it’s alright. Follow me, Pretty Boy.”

**

The trail down from the road to the river wasn’t much of a trail at all, more like a goat track winding between scrub and dusty rocks. Zach led the way with all the energy of a Labrador puppy off-leash, sneakers dangling from one hand so they wouldn’t get dusty, and his blue jeans slung over his shoulder like some kind of feral Calvin Klein ad.

Not that K.J. complained as he snapped a quick piccy. 

“Fuck yeah,boy.” Zach exclaimed as they finally reached the river bank, “Doesn’t this look legit?”

The river wound its way lazily in front of them, shaded in spots by cottonwoods and weeping willows. The water glittered like it was made to be swum in, crystal clear, cool, and stupidly inviting on the hot day.

Speaking of inviting, Zach whipped his boxers straight off, dumping his belongings on a rock. “You gonna join slow poke, or just stand there drooling?” before he dived into the river, floating in the cold water with a big grin

K.J. exhaled sharply through his nose, tugged his shirt off in one clean motion, then started working on his belt. “You’re lucky I’m into dumb hot boys.”

“Take it off!” Zach called out with a grin from the river as K.J. wandered towards the river in his boxers. “N’aww, come on, babe, hash tag free willy!”

K.J. glanced around, before he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, watching Zach with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Alrigh then, Pretty Boy, you want a show?”

Zach’s eyes brightened, delight painted clearly on his face. “Always.”

So K.J. gave it to him, slowly peeling his boxers down like he was doing an amateur burlesque number in the middle of nowhere, shaking them off one ankle with a little kick.

“Daaaamn,” Zach said reverently. “Now, that’s legit the content I subscribed for.”

“You didn’t subscribe to shit.”K.J. teased

“Babe, I’d, like, pay premium for that view, no cap” Zach laughed, wading toward the edge and K.J. waited until Zach was just close enough before he jumped in, splashing Zach with full force.

“Bastard.” Zach laughed, as K.J. swam up to him and pulled Zach close till they were inches from each other.

“Oh, hello.” Zach squeaked as K.J. cupped his ass under the water.

“You are such a dumbass,” K.J. snorted, before he pressed a wet kiss to Zach’s cheek and then pulled him under the water.

**

A couple of nights later, under the stars at the lookout, K.J. rested his head on Zach’s chest. “You know, Zachy baby, sometimes I honestly feel your the only one that gets me, not just as some reckless asshole.” 

Zach ran a lazy hand down K.J.’s arm, “Well, for real, you can be a bit of an asshole, but, like, you’re actually secretly really sweet…” 

K.J. sniggered as he shuffled to elbow Zach in the ribs, “Dick”

**

Three months later:

Zach bounced into the gym without a care in the world, complete with a cheeky slap against Tommy’s ass.

“Damn, T-bone, buns of steel.” Zach complimented as Tommy wiped the sweat off his forehead, “For sure, I can see how you got Buck.”

Tommy turned to look at the noisy intruder, “Ah, not all of us are as vain as you are.”

“Right.” Zach said, as he clicked his fingers, before making a ‘pew pew’ shooting gesture at Tommy, “You woo’ed Buck by being a reckless idiot and flying into a hurricane.” 

Before Tommy could retorted, Zach shot him a shit eating grin, “Easy, T-bone, clearly Buck gets off on reckless disregard for authority and personal safety, you two are a match made in heaven… you my friend are both G-O-A-L-S and G-O-A-T.”

“Mhmm, I’m never sure if you're being sweet or a twat.” Tommy grumbled as he grabbed his powerade from the gym bench.

“Twat? Damn, you are old as fuck boy.” 

The two of them fell into a steady gym routine, as Zach chatted away about everything and anything, and sometimes, honestly, nothing at all. 

“Yo, we’re having, like, a full-on dirty weekend away,” Zach bragged mid-lift, struggling slightly as he pushed the bar higher. “Like, clothes will be very optional from the moment we hit the road, king.” 

Tommy steadied the bar for him with one hand, trying to hide his disdain for K.J.. “Oh, well, that should be nice, I guess.”

“For sure, dawg. Like, get this: it has a pool, a spa, and a remote nature hike. Like, you know what we’re gonna be doing every single minute, right?” Zach wiggled his eyebrows, letting the bar slam back onto the rack with a grunt

Tommy grimaced. “I can imagine,”

Zach sat up on the bench, and wiped his forehead as he tilted his head, “N’aww come on, T-bone, don’t tell me your legit still hating on K.J.”

Lips pursed, Tommy took a second to collect himself, “Mmm, it’s just, I think that you deserve someone who treats you-”

“Woah, chill bro,” Zach cut him off, throwing his towel around his neck with a light hearted grin. “You’re getting, like, mad sappy or something. Plus, legit, K.J. does. He’s super sweet. Like… in a manly way, ya know?”

“Hmm.” Tommy didn’t argue further. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I will be after this weekend, for sure.” Zach winked, then slapped Tommy’s arm. “Oh hey, we better hit the showers, king, before we meet Buck and that Ravi dude, because…” He took an over exaggerated sniff, “You legit do not smell as good as you look.” 

“Thanks for the sniff test.” 

Zach spun on his heel with a bounce. “Yo, like, Ravi’s cute for sure. Is he, like…” He wagged his eyebrows. “Ya know, joining in more than just a lunch date…”

“You remember Athena, right?”

Zach would be no good at poker, the confusion covered his face in an instant. “Ahh, yup, older but still, ya know, like, bangin’ for sure, she could pull me over anyday…. Well, not now, obviously, but yeah, copper… was married to Buck’s dead Cap. For real, she gives that freak in the sheets kinda vibe…”

Tommy’s look gave him away, and Zach bit his lip. “Huh. I overstepped somewhere? But, honestly I’m not sure of the relevance? It’s not illegal for three good looking dudes to do it, ya know?”

Some would call it progress, Tommy decided. “That’s her, as you so eloquently put it. The thing is, Ravi is currently talking to her daughter, May.”

“Oooo, scandalous. Talking.” Zach clasped his hands dramatically, then dropped into a mock curtsey in the middle of the gym. “Does she show him her ankle at the dance, Grandpa? Did she drop her handkerchief to show her interest”

A couple of people glanced over at the spectacle, laughing under their breath.

“Honestly, sometimes with you…” Tommy muttered. “Hold up, how do you know so much about Victorian age flirtations?” 

“Bridgerton, for sure dawg, and that 1885 show Netflix cancelled it’s prime, those dirty traitors and then, of course, the classic Downtown Abbey- Dude the outfits are mad wild, like for real.”

“Downton.” Tommy corrected,mainly under his breath, before he rubbed his jaw, “My point was, do you want me suggesting to her that you want her daughter’s suitor engaging in-”

“Bro, please stop talking like a museum. Also, I don’t care. What’s she gonna do?” Zach asked, a cocky grin plastered across his face.

Tommy shook his head, but Zach wasn’t done.

“Look, like, she’s just a woman…wait, no, not like, just a woman, because women are-” Zach’s face went red as he backpedaled. “I mean, like, she can’t arrest me for implying you should have a threeway with a cute guy flirting with her daughter. Because, sometimes it seems Buck and Ravi are close, ya know?”

Tommy’s brows drew together. “Are you confusing Ravi for Eddie?”

Zach screwed up his face. “Nah, dawg. Have you met Eddie? Kinda a tool, for real.”

“Have you met your so-called boyfriend?” Tommy quipped back before he caught himself.

With an over dramatic eyeroll, Zach scoffed, “He’s actually one of the sweetest, most sensitive people you would never meet if you let your guard down.”

Zach scratched the back of his neck as they stood by the changing room door, “Look, fine, T-bone, I can’t make you, like,  get K.J., and all he’s been though, but can you at least, like, dial it back on the hate. Please? For me?”

With a deep sigh, Tommy relented, “Yeah, sorry, that was out of line.”

**

Four months later

K.J. lay on the bed, naked and hard, which was Zach’s favourite way for his boyfriend to be. He just looked so good, sprawled out, ready to be devoured.  “So, you’re a kinky guy right?”

Zach grinned as he stretched on the bed, leaving his arms above his head, armpits exposed, “Fuck yeah, you wanna do some wild shit?”

K.J. crawled forward to fall onto Zach’s chest, as he propped up his phone, “Babe, I wanna do this to you.”

K.J. hit play on the video, and Zach watched it for about 5 seconds before he broke into the giggles, “Okay, okay, chill, I thought you were legit being serial for a sec.” He should of known better than to fool for being trolled by his dick of a boyfriend.

However, K.J. frowned, as the video continued to play, “Umm, I am, I wanna try that with you. Wouldn’t it be so hot? My sexy little prisoner of war…”

If you were into that kind of thing, it could be hot, but it definitely pushed the boundaries, let alone with someone who you supposedly cared about. Zach titled his head as he watched the video, and yeah, no, he did not want to be treated like that during sexy time. 

Hopefully that actor got a big paycheck, because bro was suffering. 

“Hold up, for real? Like, baby, that’s-”

“So hot?” K.J. cut in as he bit his lip as the video played again, and honest, once had been enough for Zach.

“Uhhh…, for real, umm, that’s not the word I would use for that-” Zach shifted slightly on the bed under K.J.’s weight, “-Babe, why would you do that to someone you actually like? That’s not low-key freaky-cute, that’s straight up Netflix true-crime energy.”

K.J. paused the video, and shuffled so he could stare up Zach’s chest at his face, directly into his eyes, “Hold up, you said you kinky?”

“Yeah, but, baby, that's not kinky, that’s…” Zach tried to argue. 

“Are you really kink shaming people?” K.J. teased lightly, his hand drifted slowly over Zach’s chest, and circled his nipple.

“N’awww, babe, that’s wild.” Zach scoffed, “There is tying someone up and spanking them, and then there is… that, bro, why would you even want to do something like that to someone you like?”

K.J. leaned in closer, eyes rimmed with hurt,  “You always say you wanna try things and  backpedal faster than a politician. I thought we were on the same page. If you love me, you’d at least try it. Lowkey, feels like you’re gatekeeping my fun.”

Zach bristled at the comment, as he twisted on the bed with a deep frown. “Yo, don’t play me, KJ. That’s kinda low-key manipulative, baby, and I’m not here for it.”

K.J. blinked like he’d been slapped, and then had the audacity to roll his eyes at Zach. 

Zach sat up, phone still on his chest, swallowed. “Look, I’m not into getting filmed… at least, doing that… deadass, that’s a hard no. Plus, this is a firm non-negotiable, you owe me thirty minutes of full-on cuddles after. No rollin away after five because you wanna check somethin’, like, actual cuddles. Bet?”

K.J. huffed, before he pretended to think it over, then smirked smugly. “Right, Mr Innocent, just explain to me, how is filming this any diff to your selfies, or-”

“N’awww man, no don’t do that, ya know the diff for real.” Zach sighed, as he scratched the back of his head, “Baby…”

K.J. rolled onto his back, “Nah, just forget it.”

“Baby, don’t be like that…” Zach as K.J. gave him the cold shoulder.

“Look, I’m not in the mood now.” K.J. explained, back still to Zach in the bed as Zach exhaled and flopped onto his back.

**

Five days later, after drinks with the Harbor crew, Zach left the bar and he’d barely made it half a block, hood up, hands shoved in his pockets, when the roar of a familiar red Hellcat rattled the sidewalk lights.

The car slid up beside him smooth as. Zach’s grin twitched at the corner of his mouth as he pretended not to notice the car before it tooted at him, and K.J. wound the window down and called out to him.

Zach jogged a step closer, ready to chirp some dumb line, but then his jaw legit dropped.

K.J. sat behind the wheel like some hot fever dream: backwards snapback, oversized shades at night, a fat gold chain catching every streetlight, and, well, nothing else. Just bare chest, abs out, the whole package on unapologetic display in the driver seat.

Zach almost combusted on the street. 

“Need a ride?” K.J. purred, casual as hell, like this wasn’t a whole scene out of an R-rated TikTok thirst trap. The kinda thirst trap that went viral for half an hour before TikTok took it down and banned you. 

“Babe… what the actual fuck?” Zach hissed, glancing up and down the street. It wasn’t busy by any stretch of the imagination , after all it was midweek, but still, there were enough people for this to be kinda insane. A couple across the road slowed to stare. Someone’s vape cloud lingered in the glow of the shop sign.

“What are you doing?” Zach demanded, shoulders hunched as if that might make him invisible.

K.J. leaned one arm out the window, smirk carved deep across his face. “Isn’t this something you wanted to try?” he teased, voice dripping with that cocky, sexy drawl. He tilted his head, chain glinting. “So what’s it gonna be, baby? You hopping in, or you calling a real Uber like some normie?”

“Babe.” Zach dragged a hand down his face, laughing but mortified, every nerve buzzing between this is iconic and this is a felony. “You’re wildin’. Straight menace behavior.”

“Or not so straight…” K.J. retorted. “Get in, Pretty Boy, this cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

He yanked open the passenger door and slid in, shutting it a little too fast. The car was warm from the beautiful California day, and the bass thrummed low from the speakers, while K.J. smelled like cologne and trouble, and looked like a dream.

If Zach died now, he would be in heaven. 

“You gonna stare or you gonna suck it?” K.J. asked, as he pulled back out into traffic, “I know a quiet spot, in the industrial part of town where I can return the favour.”

Afterwards, K.J. stroked Zach’s head, “So, babe, now I made your dream come true, how about mine?”

“Hmm?”

A nervous finger worked its way down Zach’s chest, “You know, that idea I had…”

“Baby….” Zach groaned, although comfortable, if a bit sticky. 

“Aww, please, it’s only fair, right?” K.J. bargained, as he stroked Zach’s hair, “Just for us, please?” 

With a content sigh, Zach stretched as far as he could in the Hellcat, “Alright, fine, but you delete that vid as soon as we’re done, okay?” 

“Tight.” 

**

Now, Zach was more of a rally car kind of guy. Fast cars, windy tracks, and skilled drivers. Still, he appreciated the thought when K.J. texted him a couple of days later.

K.J.: I got us tickets to the new F1 movie with Brad Pitt. My treat

**

Five months later.

Lucy collapsed onto the chair beside Tommy like she’d just run a marathon, throwing her entire weight into it with an exaggerated groan. “Look, Kinard, I hate him too, don’t get me wrong, K.J. is a walking trash fire- but Zach actually likes him. For better, or, way more likely, for worse. So the best thing might be to just let it run its course and be there when it all blows up in his stupid, beautiful face.”

Tommy folded his arms, jaw tight, eyes fixed on Zach and K.J. laughing together by Zach’s WRX in the lot. His nostrils flared. “What’s the point in going through all this crap myself if I can’t warn the stupid idiot?? What’s the point of learning the hard lessons if I can’t keep him from walking straight into the same goddamn wall?”

Lucy tipped her head toward him, mouth tugging into that little smirk that meant she was about to poke the bear, or in this case, the big softie. “Sometimes they have to hit the wall themselves, Kinard and it’s rough, otherwise, he’ll never learn.” She tapped her nails against her phone in thought. “Besides… have you ever considered that maybe you’re just a bit of a softie when it comes to Zach?”

“Softie?” Tommy scoffed at the notion, but Lucy saw through it. 

She arched her brow at him. “Yeah, I mean, for someone who calls him an idiot every third sentence, you sure spend a lot of time worrying about him, Kinard. You are actually giving dad vibes Daddy-T.”

Tommy didn’t answer, but the muscle twitching in his jaw gave him away.

**

Then again….. A couple of days later, Lucy was in the middle of putting her stuff away in the locker room when Zach strolled in, headphones in. 

“How was your weekend?” Lucy asked, swinging her locker door shut with a hollow clang as she checked her phone, more by habit than anything.

No answer, so she thumped him hard in the shoulder. “Earth to Zach, how was the weekend?” 

“Ouch….” He tugged out one earbud, “What was that for.”

Summoning her inner strength, Lucy repeated herself for a third time, “I’m not asking a fourth time, how was your weekend dumbass.” 

“Damn, now Juicy, that hurts…  also, real talk, not the greatest, Juicy,” Zach admitted, dropping onto the bench like he’d been carrying the weight of the world or at least his gym bag. “Like, I had to deal with K.J. and all his guilt, it took forever to calm him back down.” He shook his head while tugging at the laces of his far too expensive sneakers. Once free, he held one up to the fluorescent light of the locker room, and squinted at it, looking for scuff marks.

How such a messy, chaotic idiot could care so much for his shoes and car, and nothing else, Lucy would never understand. Lucy paused as she listened to what he had said, her work boot tapping the ground, “I’m sorry, what guilt is this?”

Zach’s head flopped back as he stared up at the ceiling of the locker room “So, get this right, he got, like, super drunk at a party on Friday and accidentally hooked up with Chad, which, like, sucks for real but he feels super bad about it…” He pulled a glossy box from his bag, his grin returning as quickly as it had faded. “He felt so bad he brought me, like, this brand new smartwatch. Which is rad, it’s just, I won’t wear it because I fucking hate watches, like, who wants something tight around their wrists…” 

He rotated his wrists as he glanced down at them in horror, “Ahh, nah, not for me Juicy, but still, that’s sweet, right? Like, it’s for real the thought that counts.”

Zach held the box out towards her, “Do you want it?” 

“Zach.” Lucy snapped, before she took a deep breath to calm herself, and leaned against the cold, hard lockers. “Did you say he hooked up with someone behind your back?”

“N’awww, come on, Juicy, don’t be a hater.” Zach had flashed her that lopsided grin that got him out of trouble far more than it ever should. “Is it ideal? Obviously not, right? But, like, he’s super sorry about it, for real, and he-”

“Brought you a smartwatch,” Lucy had cut in sharply, before she caught herself. 

“A smartwatch that I offered you, by the way.” Zach wiggled the box. “For real, Juicy, I’m legit not gonna use it.”

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to throttle him. “No, I don’t want your payoff from your asshole boyfriend. Why can’t you see the red flags?”

“Huh,” Zach cut in, as he made a tut noise with his tongue, “So, people don’t deserve a second chance?”

“Zach…” Lucy sighed, because it was more than cheating. It was everything.  

“Because….”

“Zach-” Lucy started before she was cut off again, as Zach jammed his feet into his work boots. 

“Because I’m pretty sure that, uh, you and Buck hooked up in a bar behind Buck’s girlfriend’s back, and I don’t judge ya.” He looked up from his boots and smirked, though his eyes had flickered with the tiniest hint of defensiveness. “So maybe just chill on the K.J. hate?”

“Zach…”

“Honestly, gotta warn ya girl, you’re saying my name more than K.J. does when we’re in bed,” Zach joked, as he jumped up and patted her shoulder. “Relax, okay, I don’t need a pity party,”

**

Lucy folded her arms as she stood behind Tommy. “Kinard, that asshole has got to go.”

Which is why Tommy stalked over to an unsuspecting K.J. as he waited in the carpark for Zach to finish his shift. 

“Oh, hey, you’re that Tommy guy right, like, Zach’s old friend? How’s it hanging, umm, where’s Zachy?”

“Kevin, you and I need to have a little talk.” Tommy all but growled.

**

The door bell rang, and Buck looked up from his banana bread as the door unlocked. “What’s Zach doing here?”

“He’s here to see me.” Tommy answered, as he made his way to the fridge and grabbed three beers, “Here, you’ll need one too, Evan.”

Buck narrowed his eyes. “What did you do.”

“T-bone! Where are you!” Zach called out.

“In the kitchen with Evan.” Tommy replied, taking a long sip of his beer. 

A second later Zach appeared, arms crossed, serious look on his face, “Dude, like, I’m kinda touched but you don’t have to, like, defend my honor-”

“Uh, d-do you have any left?” Buck quipped, as he poured the banana bread batter into the pan. 

“Yo.” Zach’s eyes lit up at the cake mixture, “What are you making- wait, no. No, you don’t distract me with your boyfriend's cake… or his banana bread.”

Tommy could, but didn’t point out that Zach distracted himself.

“Just, leave K.J. Alone, okay? He’s,like, really deep and sensitive, bro. And he knows he’s not perfect, he doesn’t need the most important person in my life telling him he’s crap, right?”

Tommy tilted his head, beer bottle balanced loosely in his hand. “The most important person in your life?”

Zach froze for half a second too long, like a deer in headlights, then doubled down with a grin. “If I say clearly, will you say the commitment is too much and run away? Or has Buck,like, fucked that out of you?” 

Buck, the traitor, chortled as Tommy glared at both of them, and picked up the baseball on the kitchen counter and lobbed it at Zach, who caught it with a stupid grin. “Bro, please, I’m mad skilled at handling balls, besides, why the fuck do you have a baseball in your kitchen?”

“We both like to have something to play-” Tommy cut himself off, “Stop, don’t be crude.”

Zach shoved his hands in his pockets and started pacing. “Okay, fine, but, like, we both know what you’d rather play with, right? And look, I love the loyalty, T-bone but I’m legit not gonna deadass toss my man K.J. under the bus just because you guys don’t vibe with him.”

**

Some calls just suck.

Like the apartment fire they were called to assist with. 

Zach shouldered through the smoke as they scoped out the site, above him the ceiling groaned like it was thinking about giving up, and honestly, Zach didn’t blame it as smoke hampered his vision.

“This is firefighter Anderson, interior, second floor, we’ve got flames rollin’ through the walls, this place is toast.”

He moved fast, boots crunching over broken glass and scorched toys. The smoke wrapped around him, thick as oil, hot as rage. His flashlight barely cut through it, his vision poor. 

God damn it, he wasn’t going to give up. 

“Kiddo!” he shouted into the dark, “C’mon, say somethin’, yeah? Like just a squeak’ll do!”

Then, thankfully, a cough in the near distance. 

“Yo, kiddo, this is LAFD. Call out if you can.” Zach shouted, before grabbing his radio, “Cap, the little girl is on the second floor.”

There was a noise in the distance, and Zach swung his torch around, for all the good it did in the smoke filled hallway. Down the hallway was a room, probably a bedroom, which Zach was willing to be the little girl was hiding from the fire. 

“LAFD.” He called out again. 

There was some sort of nose, a cough or a cry, whatever it was, it was enough for Zach to confirm her location. 

“Gotcha,” complete with lil fist pump, “No one dies today baby,” Zach said to himself as he made his way towards the bedroom. 

“Yo, my name is Zach, okay? And I’m with the LAFD, or, ya know, like, the fire department, right, and I need you too-”

A ball hit him in the face, well, to be fair, his helmet, causing him to stumble back slightly, more from shock than force.

“N’aww, lil homie, come on now, are we, like,  chill or what?”  Zach grumbled. 

Kneeling in closer, Zach reached for the little girl and grabbed her, because there were more pressing things happening right now. Normally, you would do a quick scope of the victim, but given the house was engulfed in flames, the most important thing was getting her out in one piece.  

“Hey now, I gotcha,” he whispered. “You’re safe now. We’re getting outta here asap.”

As they exited the burning building, “Yo, lil homie, we’re out now,” he said, still bouncing her lightly in his arms. “You did great in there, okay? That was some superhero-level courage…”

He sensed something wrong, deep in his gut “Hey… hey, c’mon now. Lil homie?” he said, jostling her gently in his arms to get a response. “Hey.”

No response, and he got that distinct horror feeling deep in his gut as he shifted her carefully, peeling back the edge of the turnout coat to check her face. Her lips were pale and her tiny chest wasn’t rising.

Shit. 

Kneeling right there in the street, he laid her flat on the asphalt, checking for a pulse, pressing his ear to her mouth.

Nothing.

“Shit,” he hissed, flipping into full responder mode as he grabbed his radio. “Female, five or six years old, unresponsive, not breathing.”

He began compressions instantly, counting under his breath as the world around him narrowed to just her. Just him and her, no fire, no outside noise. Just her tiny body and his hands working to bring her back.

A medic skidded in beside him with a bag valve mask. “We got you, Anderson.”

Handing over the CPR, Zach stood back and watched helplessly as the medics continued working on her as his mind did mental gymnastics to work out what he could have done better. 

In this situation, the best thing to do was get the victim out of the burning building as quickly as possible, after all, it was no good treating someone as they were burning to death. Similarly, with only one mask, firefighters were trained to reserve the mask for themselves. 

Zach was no good to her if he had collapsed from smoke, but it all felt redundant as he watched them try to save her life as her parents screamed and cried, having to be pulled back by officers as they broke down. 

Finally, after a gut wrenching moment, the medic’s looked at each other, and with a subtle shake of her head, pulled a white sheet over the little body. Just like that. 

No, this was all wrong. She was far too young to be dead. 

It took a full moment before Zach realised it was Tommy’s hand on his shoulder, comforting him on the street. 

Zach scrubbed a hand down his face, soot streaking across his cheek. “Fuck T-Bone,” he breathed. “Some calls just… suck balls, ya know?”

Tommy squeezed his shoulder, “Hey, it’s not your fault, okay Zach, it’s not your fault.”

Well, that was a strange thought, given he was still alive and she was dead.

**

The ride back to Harbour was quiet, as Zach sat next to Tommy, bouncing his knee. Normally Tommy would say something, but he just sat in silence. It had been a hard call, and even if the little girl had been okay, for a split second it had seemed like she wasn’t. 

“Mmm, you okay Zach?”

Not turning from looking out the window, Zach gruffed out a reply along the lines of ‘sure’, which was not convincing in the least. 

There was a buzz, and Zach looked down at his phone, screwing up his face and then sighing dramatically and shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

A raised eyebrow from Tommy prompted an answer from Zach, “Ah, it’s just KJ.” 

Lucy shuffled in her seat, “Mmm, and what did he want?”

There was a flicker in Zach’s eyes, like he almost said something before he thought better of it, which normally would be impressive given Tommy wasn’t sure there was a filter up there and he just smiled, “Ah, nothing, just like…” and he rolled his shoulders as he sat up straighter, “Nothing. Just, like, some ‘what you up to’ kinda thing, ya know,”

And then he flashed a crooked smile that didn’t fool either of them.

Sharing a look with Tommy, she dropped the subject for now. 

**

Leaning against the shower wall, Zach let the warm water wash away the grime of the day, at least the physical grime. The image of the girl was burned into his mind.

Which was stupid, right? Like, it was the nature of the job. The other day, an old lady died… and, and that man who was squashed under a bus. People die Zach, he told himself. People die.

“Normally you’re humming something.” Tommy's voice came from the corner of the showers, “You doing okay mate?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine… just got distracted.”

“Mmm.” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, “You know why we wear uniforms?”

“Uh, because it’s illegal to go naked?” Zach deadpanned, voice slightly hoarse from the smoke and maybe something else.

Tommy didn’t rise to it. “Really Zach?” 

“Hmm, maybe because it makes us look hot?” 

“Because Zach… it means that at the end of our shift we can take it off.”

With a disappointed roll of his eyes, Tommy watched as Zach gestured to himself standing naked in the shower cubicle, “T-Bone, Ya know bro I did kinda figure that out for myself, easier to shower outta ya the ol’ uniform.” 

But Tommy didn’t laugh. He stepped forward and tapped Zach lightly on the shoulder, just enough for Zach to finally glance over, brow furrowed.

“Bro, you’re gonna get wet, and not, like, in the good way.” Zach pointed out, not incorrectly, but it didn’t matter. 

“I mean,” Tommy said gently, “that at the end of our shift, we get to take the job off with the uniform. That weight, that guilt, that ‘what-if’ spiral it's part of the job, but it’s not part of you.”

Zach looked away again, jaw clenched. “Doesn’t feel like that. Feels like it’s tattooed on.”

“Mmm, well you’d know about terrible tattoos.”

“Hey, my tattoos are works of art, thank you very much.” Zach snapped back, and Tommy grinned at him. 

Then Zach went quiet again. He pressed his forehead to the shower tiles for a moment, breathing through the knot still curled up in his chest. “I keep thinking T-bone, damn it, what if I had been quicker right? I was so fucking slow, I should of… fuck.” 

Zach punched the wall, which no doubt hurt him more than the wall. 

Tommy took a breath, choosing his words. “Hey now, don’t be too hard on yourself, you did exactly what you were trained to do. You found her. You got her out. You gave her the best shot at life.”

“I should’ve done better.”

“No, you did what the uniform asked of you,” Tommy said firmly. “And now, you’ve taken it off. So let it go”

Silence stretched between them, just the hiss of water filling the space.

Finally, Zach muttered, “I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about it anymore.”

“That’s okay bud,” Tommy said simply. “But just know this alright?  it isn’t your fault. Some calls just suck. But they’re not a reflection of who you are. It’s just the nature of the job.”

Zach exhaled slowly, “Thanks, T-Bone.”

Tommy nodded, stepping back toward the lockers. “Anytime. Oh, and don’t use up all the hot water”

“You just can’t handle how steamy I am.” Zach smirked faintly,

“There’s the idiot I know,” Tommy muttered with affection as he walked off.

**

Standing next to the blue WRX, Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to pace too obviously. Lucy leaned against the passenger door, scrolling through puppy videos on her phone with one perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

“So… we’re really doing this?” she asked, eyes still on the screen but not really watching it. She might play it off, but she too was worried. “Now? I mean Kinard, after everything?” 

“We would be bad friends if we didn’t say something.” Tommy confirmed, pacing around the car, “He should be grateful that we care, right?”

“Oh, of course.” Lucy agreed mockingly, as the idiot in question appeared, quickly adding, “Because people always act like they should.” 

“Maybe we should wait?” Tommy conceded, both Lucy and Tommy had tried over the last few months to raise it independently, until they decided that a united front might work better. Today had been the day that they all finished about the same time, and the plan had been to confront Zach, and then take him to the pub. 

Then the call had happened. 

Even freshly showered, the wear from the day was clear on Zach’s face, although he did break out into his dopey grin when he spotted them. Like a dog when it sees a bag of treats. 

“Oh! Yo yo my main man and Juicy, what’s with the sick welcoming party team?” Zach called out, breaking out into a slight jog to come join them by his car. “Is it kebab time?” 

Tommy smiled, but it was fake, as he stepped forward, “Look, Zach… uh, Zac Attack…”

“Hey, hey, loving the use of the nickname there Daddy-T.”

“Right, hmmm, it’s just we’re concerned about you.” Tommy admitted, and why was this so awkward. He needed some lessons from Zach on not respecting boundaries. He glanced over at Lucy, who simply shrugged, as if to say ‘well, fuck, it’s too late to stop now.’

Cat out of the bag and all that…

Zach tilted his head. “Me?” He laughed, genuinely confused. “T-Bone, what are you on about? I’m living my best life, okay? Like, hashtag blessed. Got the job, got the crew, got KJ, who, I might add, calls me sunshine in the morning and means it. I’m thriving like a nun in a cucumber field, for real.”

“Zach…” Tommy said slowly.

“Okay, alright, for real, today sucked ass, but I’m fine… besides, I’m gonna hit up K.J. in a mo’”

Lucy stepped in, expression sharp but still soft around the edges. “See, that’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about, uh, it’s KJ.”

Zach looked shocked, as he stepped back. “Great! Honestly team, not cool, did you forget the part where a lil girl died, in my arms, and you want to talk to me about my boyfriend - who, by the way, has no issue with you two.” 

“Hey, hey,” Lucy said quickly, exchanging a look with Tommy. “I know today has been stressful, but, please take a moment to listen to us?”

There was a beat.

“Listen to what? The same old broken bloody record? You’re worried how my boyfriend, who by the way is amazing, treats me?” Zach asked, stumbling a little, “Because if you’re so desperate to find the asshole, maybe look at the one who didn’t save the child.” 

Standing there, Lucy gave Zach a sympathetic smile, “Hey, bud, it’s not your fault, and you know that, and maybe this should be a wake up call that life is precious?” and, to be fair, she cringed at her words as they came out. 

Maybe the timing had been a bit off. 

Tommy looked at Zach, really looked at him, “Zach, you deserve better than someone who treats you like-”

Then Zach laughed, but it came out awkward, and a little too loud for the moment as he clapped his hands together before throwing them in the air. “What? Are you serious right now?” He looked between them, like he was waiting for someone to say gotcha. “Is this one of those fake concern things where you guys say it’s about me but really it’s about you not liking him? You have never liked him.”

“Zach, come on,” Tommy said gently. “This isn’t about us being jealous or petty. We’ve seen stuff, both of us.”

“What stuff?” Zach said, all the charm gone from his voice now, replaced by sharp edges. “What, like when he called me clingy that one time? It was a joke. And, and that time he hooked up with his ex was a drunken mistake right? Like it’s not a big deal… dude, we all do it.”

“Or when he left you at the beach that night, alone, with a phone on 5% battery because you said something stupid? Or when you two had a date night and he went to Vegas with his boys instead?” Lucy added, “None of that is a big deal, is it Zach?” 

“Or hooking up with his ex? That little shower stunt before you guys even started dating?” Tommy added, “Come on Zach.”

“Mmmkay, have you two boomers ever heard of  ‘Yolo’, life is short, we don’t have to be with each other all the time you know, he’s a good guy. He… he…” Zach stumbled for a second before he clicked his fingers in triumph, “Remember, that long shift when we were dealing with the wild fire, and he got me a boba tea? Because he cares…” 

“Zach…”

“No, Jeez guys, I’m not some dumb kid that can’t look after himself right, and-” he pointed at Lucy, “-fine, whatever, the whole having to wash your towel thing threw me, like if your clean how does your towel get dirty, but regardless, I’m not dumb, I’m not.” 

“Zach, no one is calling you dumb,” Tommy tried to reassure him, which did not work.

“No, what you’re doing is projecting onto me.” Zach spat back, catching both Tommy and Lucy off guard. 

“What?” Lucy asked dumbly after a full second, checking over at Tommy to see if he was just as confused as she was. 

“Oh my god, you are!” Zach repeated, almost sounding shocked himself “Both of you, totally projecting onto me.”

Resisting the urge to face palm, Tommy stepped forward with a gentle, “Come on now, Zach…”

“God, look here right, like maybe you're a sad old manchild, Tommy, all insecure and negative but just because you were so desperate to ruin your relationship with Buck doesn’t mean you get to ruin mine…” 

“Zach.” Lucy warned, because that was quite personal, quite hurtful and although Tommy didn't say anything, she could see it on his face. 

“And you-” Zach turned on Lucy now, wild-eyed, hurt twisting his features “-you bloody bisexual bipolar bitch, how do you manage to like both sexes, be blonde and fit as fuck and still single as fuck this whole time, but yet, somehow able to judge my relationship…. Fuck right off with your dusty ass bullshit… just keep your nose out of my business fuckwits.” 

He took a breath, but it was too late. Fuck - a little voice in the back of his head said ‘you definitely need to apologise now’ but his ego said, ‘nah fuck them and their self righteousness’ 

Lucy’s expression froze, her jaw tensing just slightly. Standing beside her, Tommy inhaled through his nose but didn’t say a word as Zach looked between them, chest rising and falling, the fight still burning hot in his blood. 

He stepped back a half-pace, eyes darting away. “You know what? Screw this. Maybe you two are old and sad, and you know what, that’s not my problem. Like, just keep your opinions, pity, and friendship to yourself; I’m not your charity case. I'm not your broken toy to fix.” 

He turned sharply, yanking open the driver’s side door of the WRX, his hands shaking more than he wanted to admit.

**

Lucy rubbed her face after a moment as the WRX roared away, “Ahh, well…”

“Mhmm, that went well.” Tommy commented dryly, before he exhaled slowly “Are you okay?”

Lucy grinned with a little bounce, “Oh, well, I mean, it’s not the first time I’ve been called a bitch.”

Tommy’s mouth tugged into something halfway between a smile and a wince. “Pretty sure he called you a bloody bisexual bitch.”

“You forgot the bipolar,” Lucy added with a dry laugh, though her jaw tightened as the echo of the words lingered. She shook her head, then looked back at him. “And you? That was a low blow he threw your way.”

Her eyes watched him carefully, because yes, those words did hurt. 

Tommy’s gaze stayed fixed on the dark stretch of road where Zach’s car had gone, eyes shadowed. “Eh. It’s nothing he hasn’t said before. Normally he’s just… more upbeat when he’s calling me an idiot.”

They stood there as the next shift arrived, laughing and mingling around them in the carpark, before Tommy spoke again, 

Finally Tommy spoke again, quieter. “I should’ve listened to you. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night to push. He was already wrecked from the call and I-” He cut himself off, dragging a hand over his jaw, the muscle twitching. “-Damn it.”

It wasn’t every day Lucy heard Tommy lose his cool, as she slipped her phone into her pocket, sighing as she leaned against the WRX’s now-empty spot. “Don’t kick yourself, Kinard. It’ll come right.”

Tommy gave a humorless chuckle. “I’ve been waiting six months for it to come right.” 

Lucy tilted her head, letting a sad smile play at her lips. “Well, If denial were an Olympic sport, our boy would’ve already brought home the gold.”

**

After pulling up the driveway, Zach was in a limbo, mentally at least as his hands gripped the steering wheel, the music blasting at full blast, thumping hard enough to rattle the windows thanks to the twin subs in the boot. The bass pounded against his chest like a second heartbeat, too loud, too fast. He gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing holding him upright.

You bloody bisexual bipolar bitch.

You're a sad old manchild.

He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding as he slammed his palms against the wheel. “Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, fuck!”

The words rang in his skull like echoes in a tunnel, bouncing between guilt and pride. Throwing his head back, he tried to deflect the guilt sitting in his stomach, because it wasn’t his fault right? 

Right? 

He clearly was not the villain here, like his vibes were fun times and bad decisions, not destroying people…

Like he didn’t ask for them to give him unsolicited advice? Besides, he’d just flashy them a cocky grin tomorrow and say sorry right? 

“Maybe you two are old and sad, and you know what, that’s not my problem.’

Ouch, he was an asshole… but in his defence, right, because he wasn’t a bad guy you know, he wasn’t. It’s just been a stressful week, with finding out his Nanny died and no one in his family had thought it important enough to tell him, after all she was ‘just’ an employee. 

Then,watching the five year old girl die right in front of him.

And on top of that? Getting double-teamed by Tommy and Lucy, like he was the villain for snapping over KJ. They didn’t get it, they acted like KJ was this ticking time bomb, and yeah, sure, maybe he could be intense, but Zach liked that. He liked someone who could match him blow for blow. Someone who didn’t treat him like a child. 

He exhaled sharply, trying to shake the guilt that had settled like wet cement in his gut.

His phone buzzed in the cupholder next to him, bringing him back to reality, thankfully. 

KJ: Oi loser, r u eva gonna get ur stupid ass inside or wot

Zach stared at the message for a long second. KJ, in all his charming, mildly abusive glory. Maybe, if Zach was painfully honest, the kind of honest he really didn’t like being, he could see why Tommy and Lucy might have some concerns but they didn’t get KJ’s sense of humor. 

But really, KJ could be kind, and thoughtful, and right now talking things over with him would be more helpful than stewing over it alone in his car. Plus, surely KJ would see his side of things right? Like Zach had been defending his honor. 

‘Cool, cool, cool’ He muttered under his breath, he could do this, he could fix all this drama. 

So taking a calming breath, he jumped out of the WRX,and locked it with a chirp before heading inside.

He looked around the house, KJ wasn’t in the lounge, so he called out “Hey?”

“Kitchen.” came the short reply, where Zach found a shirtless KJ was waiting by the kitchen table, holding a protein shake he was downing. His hair was perfectly styled, skin tan and glowing slightly from a workout sweat. 

He looked annoyingly perfect.

God, Zach was lucky, KJ was hot as fuck. 

“Yo, dude,” Zach said, injecting cheer into his voice as he leaned casually against the doorframe. Saying ‘babe’ still felt a little weird, something KJ may or may not tease him over. However, even just seeing KJ helped ease the static in his chest. It was going to be fine, they were fine.

They could crash on the couch with some Jim Beams and Zach could vent about Lucy and Tommy, and work out a plan to grovel for forgiveness tomorrow while still standing his ground about his relationship. 

KJ glanced up. “About time, loser. You were sitting out there for ages. What, writing in your diary?” and yeah, like he could have been a bit nicer, but he only asked because he cared, like he noticed something was wrong. 

So what? You just had to understand who KJ was, besides it’s not like Zach was perfect after all. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Zach tried really hard not to avoid eye contact but still ducked his head slightly, “Uhh, like, ya know, bad day at work… so I was-”

“Wow that sucks babe, anyway-,” KJ said, not listening. He tossed back the rest of his shake and set the bottle down with a loud clack. “-Now take your clothes off.”

“Sorry?” 

“Clothes. Off. You said you’d blow me before the boys come over and they’ll be here in roughly ten minutes.” KJ reminded him, “Those texts earlier, remember…”  as KJ sauntered over to Zach. 

“After the day I’ve had I’m not really in the mood.” Zach pouted, although a part of him did feel a little guilty.

 “Come on, Zach, you promised me. You know my nights with the boys go so much better when I’m relaxed.” KJ wraps his arms around Zach's waist and nuzzles his neck. “Please, baby. You’re so good at it, makes me feel so good.”

“I’m sorry but honestly, after the day I’ve had, I was just hoping…”

“But I need you baby,I need you so bad, please baby, for me?” And then KJ was grinding on him, slow and deliberate as his mouth found Zach’s ear, breath hot, teeth grazing just enough to make it land somewhere between a tease and a command.

Fuck it, Zach thought, so what if his day had been a nightmare, and if he was tired, he wasn’t the only person in this relationship. KJ needed things too, needed him.

Plus, didn’t sex fix everything?

“Atta boy,” KJ murmured, running a hand through Zach’s hair like a pat on the head. “There’s my good boy.”, as KJ’s cock bounced free, rock hard… and really, Zach shouldn’t complain, KJ’s cock was very pretty.

Plus, was Zach really going to turn down a quickie? 

 “Did I ever tell you how pretty you look on your knees, like daddy’s lil slut.”

It was just dirty talk, Zach told himself, as he made good on his earlier promise to make KJ’s legs shake and drain him dry. 

It didn’t take long, whether or not Buck was right that bro-jobs and blow-jobs were the same, Zach had had some practice at making someone feel good with his tongue. 

KJ came with a groan and a shudder, one hand braced against the counter like Zach had just saved his soul. He stayed like that for a moment, panting. “Far out, your mouth should come with a warning, baby, fuck you’re so good.” 

Then, without looking down, he pointed loosely toward the paper towels on the bench. “Grab a napkin or something, yeah?” he said, casual and already disengaging. “The boys don’t need to see you looking like that slut. That’s for me.”

Zach wiped his mouth with the edge of the paper towel, quick and quiet, his eyes skimming the floor instead of KJ. His knees still ached from the tile, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he tossed the napkin in the trash and stood, stretching like it didn’t sting a little.

KJ was already fixing his hair in the reflection of the microwave door, adjusting a chain that hadn’t budged.

“You should probably bounce,” KJ said, still smoothing a hand over his abs like he was his own biggest fan. “The boys’ll be here any minute, and, like, they’re not ready to see you post-service, you feel me?”

Zach gave a lopsided grin. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t wanna ruin the vibe.”

“Aww, babe it’s not that,” KJ said, spinning around, with an easy,friendly smile, “It’s just… you know how sensitive Ryan gets about PDA. And Leo’s still convinced you’re straight. Which is hilarious, by the way.”

Zach let out a little laugh, unsure if it was supposed to be funny. “Right, yeah. Guess I’ll, like, head out. Give you guys space to, like, bro down or whatever.”

“Exactly,” KJ said, pulling a fresh shirt over his head, the fabric clinging like he knew it would. “I love our little… moments, but tonight’s more, like, testosterone and trash talk, less foreplay and feelings, ya feel me?”

Zach stepped into his shoes, shoving his hands deep into his pockets like they could hold the disappointment sinking in his chest. He smiled, or tried to, like he hadn’t just been low-key booted from the night’s plans.

“Oh, uh… you still good for next weekend?” he asked, voice a shade too bright. “The BBQ at Cass’s? Just chill vibes, burgers, whatever.” He threw in a casual shrug, hoping it didn’t sound like begging. 

KJ hesitated, just for a second. “Mmm, maybe. Depends if the crew’s doing Palm Springs. I told you that, right?”

Zach scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the floor like it had the answers. “I mean… yeah, maybe? I kinda told you about this, like, weeks ago though, bro…” He winced the second the word left his mouth.

KJ’s smirk slid into something sharper. “See, that’s exactly why Leo thinks you’re straight.”

Zach looked up, caught off-guard, unable to catch why the BBQ invite would make Leo think he was straight. Tommy was a BBQ master, a wrestling fan, knew way too much about sports and watched Monster Trucks for fun, and he was very gay. “Wait, what?”

“I’m not your bro, babe,” KJ said, wagging his drink like a teacher scolding a student. “Come on. You’re sleeping in my bed, not borrowing my Xbox.”

Oh, not the BBQ. 

Zach’s face flared red. “Shit. Yeah. Sorry, I just…like, I dunno, habit, I guess? Babe. Not bro. I totz got it Babe.” He gave a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Got it locked down now. No bro-ing the babe.”

KJ chuckled, low and amused, like Zach was something adorable and mildly pathetic. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Zach laughed along, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Lucky… uh, so like, the BBQ?”

“Babe, can we not do this now, please?” KJ whined, straddling Zach, pouting all cute and fluffy. 

Zach forced a grin, the kind that pulled a little too tight at the corners. “Yeah, yeah, sure… we can talk later… Guess I’ll, like, leave you to it then.”

“Do that,” KJ said, already turning back toward the fridge. “Text me if something urgent comes up. Otherwise, catch you later, babe.”

Zach nodded, backing toward the door like he wasn’t sure if the conversation had ended or just been dismissed, he paused for a second, chewed on his bottom lip for a second, “Hey, uh, if you’re ,like, free later could you give me a quick call, like, I’d really appreciate being able to ya know, chat to someone about today.”

“Umm, I mean baby, tonight’s gonna be hectic as fuck, what about your boy, what’s his name, Ca-Ca-”

“Cassidy.”

“That’s it, Cassidy, can’t ya have an old pow-wow with him?” 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I can.” Zach agreed reluctantly, “Of course, right, no biggie, uh well,later, I guess.”

“Love you!” KJ called out. 

**

Meanwhile, back at Tommy’s, Buck put down his book, already annoyed. “Uh,uh,huh, I’m sorry, what did he say to you”

Not that Tommy didn’t appreciate Buck’s ride or die attitude, he did try to calm his partner down, “Look, he was a dick-”

“That’s the understatement of the year, you can’t let him talk to you like that.” Buck said firmly. 

“But, Evan, you have to remember that he had a rough day and we did ambush him…”

“Oh, and you also didn’t have a rough day?” Buck fired back. “Because far as I can tell, you were at the same damn fire.”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, walking into the kitchen. “Evan, he lost someone, okay, give the kid a break. He was already unraveling when we brought up KJ.”

“I get that. I do,” Buck said, following. “I remember what it felt like when I lost that guy on the coaster, and how it knocked me sideways for days. But you know who else was there when she died? Everyone else who worked that call. And none of you went scorched earth on each other.”

Tommy opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and cracked the seal. “I’ve lost it before. You’ve seen it.” He leaned against the counter. “It wasn’t really about us. He’s carrying a lot, and he overreacted…”

“Overreacted? Listen to yourself. He didn’t just snap, Tommy. He went for blood. He didn’t have the right to do that…,” Buck said, following, voice tight. “Not to Lucy, and especially not to you, not after everything.”

Tommy set the glass down a little harder than intended. “I know that.”

“Then why are you still protecting him?”

“I’m not,” Tommy replied. “I’m not excusing any of it. But I am trying to understand it.”

Buck folded his arms. “There’s a line, Tommy. We’ve all stepped close to it, I know I have. But Zach didn’t just cross it, no, he torched it, spat on the remains, and walked away like he was the victim.”

Tommy let out a breath. “He’s 24.”

“He’s been able to vote since he was 18, drink since 21, and crash and burn his way through relationships all on his own. He’s not a kid anymore, Tommy.”

“Mmm. So true, but Evan,” Tommy cut him off with a gentle, proud smile, “Tell me one thing, if it was anyone other than me, would you be so hard on him?” 

Buck didn’t answer until Tommy’s happy smile turned into a smug smirk, and then Buck rolled his eyes and huffed out, “Whatever.”

**

Sitting in the driver's seat with the engine off, Zach scrolled through his contacts for the fifth time, thumb hovering over Lucy… then Tommy… then back again. He skipped them both for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Pride and ego mixed with anxiety were hardly a great mix. 

Eventually, he tapped Cassidy’s name and hit call, bracing for voicemail, and the phone rang... and rang….and rang until there was a click and “What the actual fuck, asshole?”

Zach winced at the tone. “Sup, bro?”

“Sup? SUP? Zach, it’s one in the goddamn morning. I’m not one of your god damn booty calls, I’m in bed.”

“So, like, that’s a no on a quick gym sesh with your boy Zach?” he said with a weak grin, even though no one could see it. 

“Fuck off.” Cassidy didn’t even hesitate.

“Yo, come on, man. Please bro?” Zach sagged in his seat.  “I’ve had, like, a shit day and I just…..like I dunno man…I just wanna hit the gym, smash out some reps, maybe throw a tire around, pretend I’m not spiraling.”

No answer.

“Think about it, hashtag midnight gym sesh with the boys, sounds legit doesn’t it? Sleep is for the weak my man, embrace life.”

There was a groan on the other end. The sound of sheets shifting. “Dude. If you’re spiraling at one a.m., you're already screwed. And shouldn’t you be calling your boyfriend instead of me? How about you ‘embrace’ your other half.”

Zach scratched at the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious even though no one could see him. “Yeah, I mean, sure but… KJ’s already had plans tonight.”

There was a pause. “So?”

“So… he’s busy?”

Another pause. Cassidy didn’t even try to hide the sigh. “Zach. Dude. I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a dick, but that’s what partners are for. If you’ve had a crap day, you call your person. That’s, like, the bare minimum boyfriend responsibility.”

Zach shifted in his seat, defensive heat rising in his chest. “Whatever, I didn’t call for a lecture. So that’s a no on gym time?”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“I know that.”

“And I have work tomorrow.”

Zach huffed. “Cool. Great. Thanks for the support, bro.”

“Zach,” Cassidy said flatly, “you ditched me last week because KJ was ‘down about his football team losing.’ Like, come on, man. You were supposed to meet me for dinner, and instead you sat on his couch while he sulked over a fantasy league.”

“That’s not cool, bro,” Zach snapped. “KJ was having a hard time.”

“And now you are,” Cassidy said, voice sharp. “But the shoe’s on the other foot and guess what? He’s nowhere to be found.”

Zach opened his mouth, then shut it. 

Cassidy groaned. “OH. MY. GOD. Zach, go call Tommy. Whine to him. I’m going back to sleep.”

“I can’t,” Zach said, quieter this time.

That stopped Cassidy.

“…Dude.”

Zach stared out at the empty parking lot, the streetlights flickering against the windshield. “I kinda fucked up today, that’s one of the things that was pretty fucking shit.”

Silence.

Then Cassidy’s voice, low but not unkind. “You need to figure your shit out, man. Seriously… fuck man, if you have fucked up so bad that Tommy won’t talk to you, dude I dunno what to say.”

Then the phone clicked in his ear. 

“Yeah,” Zach muttered. “No shit.”

Chapter Text

Buck had little tells, Tommy had learnt over time, including fidgeting as they lay next to each other in the double bed. Rolling over, Tommy makes a point of yawning in Buck’s ear, “Evan, what’s on your mind, it’s keeping me up.”

Buck huffs, playing with the edge of the blanket, “Nothing.” He lies, almost convincingly, except Buck is a terrible liar, a well-known fact that Sal enjoys taking advantage of during their poker games.

As Tommy sits up in bed, he playfully scolds his partner with a smirk, “Uh huh, Evan, don’t lie now.” 

“Uhhhh…fine.” Buck replies, exhaling loudly as the truth comes out, “Uh, I m-might have been considering messaging him, Zach, that is, and just saying something, like, I dunno, hey man that’s not cool, or you should apologise to Tommy, or-”

“Evan, that’s incredibly sweet, but please do not get involved.”

With a grumble, Buck pouts, “Oh, and why not. Y-your my boyfriend aren’t you, w-why shouldn’t I defend your honour, and all that kind of stuff?” 

With a fond gaze in his eyes, Tommy runs a hand through Buck’s curls, comforting his partner, “Mmm, yes, and I love protective Evan a lot, almost as much as possessive Evan, but, alas if you bark, then Zach will bite and it will just make things messier. I want to fix this, not make it worse....”

“So, what, I’m just supposed to act like he wasn’t an asshole to you, no Tommy that won’t-”

“Soooo,” Cutting Buck off, Tommy cups his partner's chin, forcing Buck to look him in the eye, “We give him breathing space, and then hopefully both of us will apologise.” Tommy answers, smiling at Buck’s put-out face.

“Uh, you have absolutely nothing to say sorry for.”

“That’s sweet, babe, but you know as well I do that’s not true.” Tommy replies with a gentle grin, hand now resting on Buck’s shoulder, squeezing softly to try and ground him, “Besides, if you scare Zach off, who will feed Mister Thomas when we go away?” 

Buck went to grumble something, but Tommy has discovered from the very start that kissing Buck was an effective way of stopping him from rambling, at least for a minute.

Plus, who really needs an excuse to kiss one Evan Buckley?

**

Meanwhile, sitting in his car, Zach stares blankly at the phone in his hands as he opens Tommy’s contact and hits ‘send message’ before hitting the home button, returning back to the home screen.

He scrolls through his phone until he opens Facebook Messenger, looking at the selection of floating profiles with green dots next to them. Given it's one in the morning, there’s not as many as usual, but Zach can still see Tommy’s face floating there.

He selects it, with his awkward smile and helicopter in the background. So cliche, but still kind of cool, to be honest, however it didn’t flatter his jawline.  Zach had tried to give him some tips to capture his good looks but Tommy had declined his kind offer, which was kinda rude but then again, Tommy had already snagged Buck so there was no real need to go fishing.

He could respect that.

Okay, enough procrastinating he tells himself as he stares down at the chat, the last message was a Meme that Tommy had sent him. 

Zach starts to type out his message.

‘Yo, I’ll say sorry for being a cunt if you say sorry?’

Hitting the backspace button, Zach was left with an empty screen, again, before scrolling up through the chat at the Memes, GIFs and random messages.

No, focus Zach, he tells himself.  

‘T-bone, sorry for-‘

For what exactly? For being an absolute asshole? For taking everything Tommy was insecure about and using it as a weapon? For lashing out?

But then again, didn’t he have a right to lash out?

In the back he hears faint crying, which is weird given he is very much alone in the car.

As he looks into the rearview mirror in confusion, he turns pale when he sees the shadowy figure of the little girl staring at him.. He jumps, twisting around in his seat only to confirm that no one was there.

Breathing heavily, his fingers shake as he tries to type something. 

Fuck it, you know what? He’ll talk to Tommy tomorrow, face to face like a man. 

For now, he’s going to beat the shit out of a punching bag at the gym and pretend he didn’t see a dead girl crying in the back of his car.

**

Twenty minutes later, Zach pulls up outside the 24-hour gym. He sits in the car for a few moments, still weighing up between going in and just going home and crashing on his bed before his next shift. 

Where he’d have to not only face Tommy and Lucy, but apologise. Like, actual apologise, with grovelling and depth. 

Like, legit, how do you say ‘sorry’ while also saying ‘Yo bro, chill, okay?’  In his 25 years of life, the only form of  ‘hey, back off’ consists of ‘get fucked, you absolute clown, go rot in a dumpster’ so the concept of asking someone to back off, while also staying civil is new to him. 

Bro,  this is uncharted territory. His brain is like: do you hit them with a ‘my bad, but also… can you not?’ Or maybe a ‘lol, no offense, but back the hell up.’

Fuck, he should probably legit avoid using the word hell, it’s giving aggressive vibes for real.

Sighing as he rubs his temple, feeling older than he is, Zach turns the car key, listening to Rexie’s turbo cool down.

He forces himself out of the vehicle, standing in the carpark of the gym at one thirty in the morning. 

Punching something would be good for clearing his head. 

Grabbing his workout bag from the back of the WRX, Zach swipes his key card and enters the gym. Being early in the morning, the gym was almost empty, apart from one or two other people working out quietly with their headphones in.

Zach could vibe with that, no one to get in the way of workout thirst traps for his alternate Insta account that K.J. may or may not know about. Not that Zach was hiding it, nor was K.J. controlling, it was just… well just the way it was.

Another so-called red flag according to them. 

Anyway, the more he thought about it the more he remembered about snapping at T-bone and Juicy and he was not here for that, thank you.

Except one of the guys working out is of course, fucking, Alex.

Of all people. 

Damn it. 

Zach stops mid-step, see if it wasn’t for the blow up with Tommy and Lucy earlier it would be fine, but the Swedish bastard was always so proper and smart whenever they met out on the field.

Well, apart from that one time when Zach had to save his life…  

Fuck, but on the other hand - Buck and Alex where friends right? What if Buck had like, rang him and told him that Zach was an absolute asswipe to Tommy?

What if Alex takes upon himself to say something? That wouldn’t happen right? Like, Buck and Tommy are adults and not like Frank and Todd, or Kyle for that matter. He’s here to calm down, not be on edge.

He legit thinks about leaving, but he doesn’t, of course, because he was a mature adult and he could totally exist in the same space as someone else. To be fair, he was probably overthinking.  

Just go with plan A, and punch the fuck out of a punching bag. 

Excellent idea Zach. 

However, the universe has different plans because as he walks from the locker room to the punching bag, he has to pass Alex, who looks up from his set, wiping his hands on a towel, and giving Zach a big friendly smile. Already, Zach is annoyed, which is irrational.

“Oh, hej,” Alex says, voice calm and composed as he continues. “Zach, what brings you here?”

Hmm - well lets see, Zach thinks to himself. First, he got a small child, a little girl, killed at work. Someone who needed him, who counted on him, someone who would never experience the nineteen or so years that Zach had, let alone everything else she should have.

Someone who would never go to prom, get her first license, graduate from University, travel around the world, live a life. 

Zach didn’t even know her name, but he could see her face.

Then, Tommy and Lucy decided to hit him up together (which was new, previously he had heard it one on one) about his boyfriend – and look, he knew K.J. wasn’t perfect, but K.J. had poured his heart out to Zach about his struggles, his insecurities, how he tries. 

K.J. wasn’t perfect, but neither was Zach. 

So, then he blew up not one but two friends and torched the only real relationship he had had. Not to be tragic, but aside from Cassidy (at a push), Tommy and Lucy were probably the one people who cared cared about him.

Not that he doesn’t have friends, he has lots of friends, they were all, just, like, busy with their own lives. 

But that was all too much, so instead: 

“Ahh, you know, like most people, my car.” 

It could almost have been witty, if it hadn’t been so biting,  but he refuses to feel guilty about it.

“Ah, funny guy ja? Anyhow, how is everyone? Buck, Tommy, yourself, all keeping well?” 

If Zach was in a rational place, he would have told himself that Alex didn’t know and wasn’t deliberately winding him up in the least - that it was just a polite question, one that he would normally answer happily.

But tonight it gets under his skin, so instead, Zach rolls his eyes, popping in an AirPod in his left ear. “Kinda in the zone, man. So, like, can you chill on the water cooler chatter.”

“Ah ja,” Alex says, nodding along like he was agreeing with Zach. “I see, we’re muscles over manners. Got it.”

Instead of ignoring it Zach turns, simmering as he yanks his airpod back out as if he was the victim and not the asshole in this situation. “Yo, bro… honestly, I’m hella surprised you even know what a gym is. I figured you spent your spare time jerking off over oil paintings or whatever classy snobs like you get hard-on over.”

Clearly, the hit didn’t land as Zach would hope; given Alex simply chuckles at him, not offended in the least, just vaguely entertained. Which is worse: after all, if Zach threw an insult, the least it could do was hit. 

“Åh, wow. Real original, my young friend. You know, for a split second, I almost thought I was talking to an adult. But nej, you open your mouth and hit me with the high school insult, straight outta the locker room.” Then Alex shakes his head in disappointment.

Now would be a good time to walk away, Zach knows that but his pride, his stupid pride won’t let him, so instead he opens and closes his mouth before shooting off. “You, like… know you’re not funny, right?”

Even he knows it’s lame, and he ends up trying not to cringe as Alex smiles at him, leaning in as if to share a secret. “Hej, my friend, let me share something with you, come here.” 

Going for unbothered and disinterested, Zach stares at his fingers, stretching and inspecting them as Alex continues, “See, here’s the thing,  I don’t have to be funny, ja? I’m thirty-three. I have something called taste, stability, and an actual house-” He pauses, eyes flicking over Zach, before the punchline lands.

“-while you’ve got… what? Protein shakes, a messy ‘pad’ with the bros, and a WRX that basically is your personality, ja?... But, please, correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Hey, leave Rexie out of this.” Zach bites back before he could stop himself, falling face-first into the trap. 

“I don’t know what is more childish, that your car has a name, or that it’s a WRX named Rexie, hard to choose…” Alex says, sighing slightly at his own question, “Although, I mean, if we can have the painting of Christ’s last supper called the ‘Last Supper’, and the Mona Lisa, then why can’t Zach have Rexie the WRX? after all what is art if not subjective, my young friend”

Art is subjective? What the fuck bullshit was that? 

Scoffing, Zach rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man,” he mutters, heading for the weights, Air pods back in.

Now, as much as the gym helps to clear his head, Zach couldn’t resist the urge to get a few more digs in as he gave Alex the side eye during his workout.

Punching the punching bag helps a little, his music blasting a little too loud and his hits a little too sloppy to the point he hurt his wrist, but then again, he kinda likes the pain. 

As he saunters across the gym to the water fountain (despite having his Gatorade bottle on him), he deliberately wanders past Alex, causally of course, because he hardly notices that he’s still there. 

“Hope you’re not planning to be here all night,” Zach calls out, his voice cutting through the low hum of gym generic bland music. “Don’t wanna overdo it, grandpa. Your joints might collapse.”

Sadly Alex doesn’t rise to it. Just continuing to count through another rep, before replying dryly, “I’d be more concerned about your form than my knees, bit loose over there,ja?”

“Okay, that’s wild bro, because legit my form is on fire,” Zach snaps back, stretching mainly for show, letting his gym singlet ride up, “besides, like, shouldn’t you be in bed old man? Hash tag beauty sleep.”

“Hmm, the funny thing about being a paramedic, Zach, is that we work funny hours, ja. I did assume, apparently mistakenly, that you would have been aware of that” Alex replies, “Shouldn’t you be, oh I dunno, more focused on your set than whatever stupid… ahh, what is the word in English - strutta som en fågel”

Alex clicks his fingers, as his brain attempts to remember, before “Ah ha, peacocking you’re attempting right now?” 

“Well, bro, rather be a peacock than a stale, lame ass museum exhibit.” Zach quips back, before adding a mocking “Ja?” onto it.

Alex lets out a short, dry laugh. “Söt... you know, that was almost clever.”

With a roll of his eyes, Zach walks off, forgetting about the water fountain.  

**

The rest of the gym goes fine, mostly, blasting music and jogging on the treadmill until he feels as tired as his mind was, and then he’s going to drag his sorry ass to the locker and shower.

Or that is the plan, because he’s feeling drained of everything.

But bloody Alex is still there working out, like some Nordic god. All six foot something (four), blonde, hunky muscle man - not that Zach notices, of course. 

It’s stupid, so stupid, but Zach can’t just leave before Alex. The guy had been there when he arrived, and there’s simply no way Zach is going to slink out first, like he was weaker, like he couldn’t keep up with some sad old man. Not that anyone would even realise, of course. 

After all, Zach is young  (Plus, logic is not a requirement at two am in the morning.)

Meanwhile, Alex is sitting on a bench, using barbells to do curls, which is when Zach has perhaps one of his dumbest thoughts of the night. Honestly, a gold star worthy bad idea.

So across from Alex, Zach loads up the bench press, matching his body weight.

“Hej, Zach, do you want a spotter by any chance, before you know, you kill yourself?” Alex asks from his spot as he curls his weights, carefully watching the other man.

“Uh, cheers, but nah, bro, I’m not old and sad.” Zach smirks, dragging his singlet off, purely because it was soaked, obviously. Not because Alex was watching. Propping his phone up against a water bottle, before he hit record, and laid back on the bench, reaching up and grabbing the bar.

Alex mutters something under his breath, “Din dumma idiot, du kommer ta livet av dig själv!” which Zach can work out by the tone is probably not flattering.

The first ten bench presses are fine, if a little tiring and that’s where Zach should have stopped. He's not unfit, of course, hell his six pack makes it clear, but he's also a firefighter, not a professional bench presser.

Eleven burned like fire. Twelve made his muscles scream. By thirteen, his arms were quaking, and his lungs were begging him to quit, but he was so so close. Fourteen was pure agony, but he could taste it now, or at least taste something in his mouth.

Fifteen was RIGHT there, along with the non-existent bragging rights (at least until he posted it on his alt insta later).

Except fifteen never comes. No, instead the bar sinks, slowly as his arms give out on him at last, merciless sinking, until it rests heavy against his chest. He tries in vain to shove it up again, but his arms give out from pure exhaustion from being a dick. With the weight pressing onto his ribs, stealing his breath he tries tilting, hoping to roll it off, but the bar only slides higher, toward his throat. 

Panic flares sharp and ugly inside him.

For fuck sake, fucking idiot, he scolds himself as he struggles to breath.

Then as he was struggling, a stupid blonde nordic god appears above his blurry eyes and reaches down, grabbing the bar and pulling it up off him.

Air re-enters his lungs with a gulp, as he lay there wheezing and panting.

What he should say is ‘thank you’

What comes out is ‘I had that under control.’ Like some asshole punk. 

However, Alex doesn’t say anything, just lets go of the bar for a millisecond, just enough for Zach’s arms to buckle slightly as the bar drops back toward him before the older, blonde asshole grabs it again putting it back on the holder.

“Ja, ja, of course you did,stud,” Alex says smoothly, wiping his palms on a towel. “Ah, now don’t forget to clean the bench when you’re done, ja? And your phone - ah, I think you will enjoy the video. Very… entertaining. What is the phrase? America’s Funniest Home Videos?”

Still panting, Zach lies on the bench as Alex walks off, humming to himself before he pauses just for a second, looking far too pleased with himself, “Ah, Zachary, when you post it online, give Buck the link to send to me, ja? I need a laugh.”  

Fucking great. 

After catching his breath, he leans forward, and grabs his phone, deleting the video before collapsing back on the bench in a sweaty mess. 

**

Zach makes his way to his the locker room, where Alex was getting changed and Zach really tried not to notice just how fucking handsome the older man was. Handsome, but annoying, even if Zach was the one who was actually being an unreasonable prick right now. 

Zach’s heard rumours before, about how Europeans have no qualms about nudity, letting it all hang there as he got changed. It’s a different thing to experience it, so openly, in an American changing room.

Because there is all of Alex, in all his glory, from his messy blonde hair fresh out of the shower, to his face with the slight stubble and a jawline that would make some models cry, to a chest that rivaled Zach’s…

All of him, god damn.

That Swedish sausage and meatballs….

Anyway. 

Trying to keep to himself, Zach strips off, throwing his stuff onto the metal bench. Now, it is his intention to find a locker and shove his stuff into it when that smug nordic asshole says, in a rude tone,  “Are you gonna clean that mess up? We have lockers here for a reason.”

Zach twists slightly, holding the towel against his crotch “Excuse moi? What the fuck does it have to do with you? Like, chill, bro.”

Like mind your business dude. It’s humiliating enough having to be rescued from the bench press, let alone being chided like a child in the locker room which was big enough for half of downtown L.A. when they were the only two there. 

Besides, he was going to tidy up, like, give him a minute.

“The locker room is a shared space, clean up after yourself is all I’m saying.” Alex says and that is the final straw. 

Call it childish, call it whatever you like, but instead of picking up his belongings, Zach just gives him a half arsed shrug, leaving his stuff all over the locker room bench as he heads to the showers, humming away to himself. 

And yes, he knows its childish, and probably stupid, but fuck that man and the horse he rode in on. You can thank Zach’s love of Angelina Jolie for that quote (what, she’s hot, weird, and into kinky sex, what's not to love about her?)

If nothing else, the cascading hot water over his body felt amazing. 

**

If you asked Alex, on a scale of one to ten, he would consider himself an eight, possibly a nine on the maturity scales, but as he stands alone in the locker room, a decidedly not very mature idea forms. 

One that Alex is in no way proud of, but he had grown up on cheesy teen comedies in Europe, and what the number one trope. Tricking the asshole out of his clothes, a la Chad Michael Murray in One Tree Hill, or Henrik Norberg in Naken, etc. 

To be fair, this was less tricking, and more of a prank. A harmless prank.

No, not a prank, a lesson. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

Sighing deeply, possibly with deep disappointment in himself, Alex walks over to the cleaning closet of the locker room, trying the door, which was bound to be locked and that would be his sign from the universe to just get dressed and go home. 

With a click, the door opens, and Alex is left standing in front of the tiny clean closet, with a mop, spray and wipe bottles, raps, a couple of old yoga mats and black rubbish bags. Which didn’t seem very secure, there was no way he should be able to just walk into the gyms cleaning closet with all those chemicals and what not. 

This is childish, he tells himself again, as he goes to push the door shut and be the adult.

But, then again, Zach had been nothing but a smart ass skitunget since he rocked up. Not even grateful when Alex saved his life… at least Alex had texted Zach after the near miss with the car.

So, giving into revenge, Alex walks into the closest, grabbing one of the black garbage bags before making his way over to the bench, listening as the shower continued to run.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he begins to carefully shove Zach’s belongings into the bag, his phone, his wallet, his sweaty gym clothes and shoes, before leaning down to grab Zach’s gym bag. Then, he walks back to the closest and dumps the bag on the floor, shutting the door with a click.

He didn't steal anything. He’s just... tidying up after the messy asshole. To be fair, Alex had warned him, so it was only right.

Paranoia swept through him, and he tries the door, which opens again, because he only wants to make the asshole sweat for a second, to maybe consider his actions and his attitude. He isn’t cruel, he doesn’t want to leave Zach stranded in the gym locker room. 

He just wants to make a point, and go home and sleep.

And with that Alex finishes getting dressed, before he waits, slowly putting his shoes on as he hears the sound of wet feet on the locker room floor and then Zach appears, towel clung to his hips lower than Alex would have liked (or perhaps, just as Alex liked).

It took zero point one seconds before: 

“Woah, what the actual fuck dude, where the fuck are my clothes asshole?” Zach yells, entering the locker room, as Alex put on his best poker face. 

“I’m sorry, are you missing something?” Alex asks, looking up from his shoes laces with his poker face in place. 

“Oh, ha the fucking haha, don’t play dumb with me asshole, where's my stuff?” Zach demands, like a toddler, even attempting to tower over him and, as almost comical as his tough guy look was, Zach did look even better wet. His abs glisten under the terrible gym lighting.  

That wasn't part of Alex’s plan. 

Attempting not to notice the slight glisten of Zach’s wet chest right in his face, Alex shrugs, “Umm, I’m sorry ‘bro’ but uh, why is it my duty to watch over your stuff? I told you to put it in the locker, cleaners probably came in and threw it out.”

Now logic would dictate that there wasn’t like to be cleaners at two in the morning, but that doesn’t quite click in Zach’s brain yet.

“They wouldn’t”

Now, Alex wasn’t expecting that line to work, so he’s struggling to keep his expression neutral, “Ah well, I mean, people leave shit here all the time, ja?, so they probably did, maybe they took it to the lost and found? If only you had been a tidy gym goer and put your stuff away” and Alex gestures with his head to the ‘Be a tidy gym goer’ poster, smiling slightly as Zach’s face goes red. 

“For fuck sake.” Zach says, throwing his head back in despair, and Alex has to admit, the asshole is quite attractive, well, at least physically. 

Then, to Alex’s dismay: Zach looks under the bench for his stuff, dropping to his knees in his towel, which was hanging on for dear life.

Besides, it was simply silly to think that all of his shit could be hidden under the bench, and if he wasn’t quite so busy staring he might have pointed it out. 

Naturally, Alex tries looking away but his eyes instead follow the lines of Zach’s back, to his towel cladded ass.

With a grunt, Zach stands back up, his towel slipping, which Alex shouldn’t have noticed because he should not be staring quite as much as he was. He should also, in all honesty, be handing Zach back his stuff at this stage, given he made his point. 

Which he would, in a moment, when Zach finishes checking the bins, and empty lockers, and stretching just right…

“Fuck it, just… fuck it.” Zach snaps, running a hand through his hair, “Like, whatever.”

“Maybe you should take better care of your stuff, huh?” Alex suggests, deliberately enjoying winding up the younger man, which he shouldn’t. He was meant to be mature, meant to be being the key word apparently tonight (or this morning).

The satisfaction he felt at Zach’s frustration was both petty and addictive.

Zach whirls around on him, scowling, although the scowl was dampered by his state of (un)dress. “Oh, get wrecked, bro-” then he sighs, rubbing his face and crashing against the metal locker with a clang that must have hurt. “For real, can tonight get any fucking worse? I’m absolutely cooked.” 

Maybe, just maybe, Alex had gone far enough, “Ah, rough night?”

“C-can you just bounce and leave me the hell alone?”  and for the first time, at least since Zach almost killed himself with the bench press, Alex saw just a tiny crack in the younger man’s facade. 

And just like that, it was no longer fun. 

“Sure, but maybe you would like me to tell you where to find your stuff, no?” Alex says.

Dropping his hands from his face, Zach glares at Alex through damp lashes. His towel slipped another inch, and he yanked it back up with a muttered curse. “Oh hell no, you were hiding my shit after all, huh? Is that what this is, big man? Like, some big laugh for you?”

Tilting his head and folding his arms across his chest Alex returns the glare. “Laugh? Not so much, my friend. A… lesson, perhaps.”

“A lesson?” Zach scoffs, running both hands over his wet hair, the strands sticking up wild and uneven. “Fuck me, why… like, I could legit report your sad old musky ass to the gym management, like, ya know that right? No cap,bro.” 

Zach then sighs, catching Alex off guard, and also ever so slightly concerning “Like, for real, why do all these lesson have to happen to me while I’m naked, like, I get I’m fucking sexy, for sure, but…. At least it’s only you, and I’m not covered in cum this time.”  

That was a mental picture, as Alex weighs up asking before he aborts that question, because he figures he really doesn’t need to know and straightening up with a sigh, he gestures to the cupboard with his head. “They’re in the staff-only cupboard. Next to the yoga mats. You’re welcome.”

“Great, what do you want, a fucking thank you?” Zach retorts. “Dawg, like seriously? What? Because I upset your delicate little feelings?”

Alex’s nostrils flare at the accusation, hitting a nerve, because that was precisely what happened. “Oh no, you were being a dick, my friend. You got what you deserved, or rather, less. It’s not like I trashed your crap, I simply just put it somewhere out of the way, be a tidy gym goer.” complete with a pointed look at the poster again. 

“Oh, right,” Zach says, throwing his hands up in plain disbelief. “So that makes it okay? You got all up in your feels and you decided what? To play locker-room god? You know nothing about me, or my day.”

“You came in with your peacocking, your posturing, like you’re the main character in a high school soap opera,” Alex snaps back, feeling his face go slightly red as his jaw tightens,teeth grinding. “I simply gave you a taste of your own medicine, bro.”

“You’re literally, what? thirty-three and hiding my clothes,” Zach deadpans “Bro, you’re the one stuck in high school, fuck your feelings.”

“Go get dressed then.” 

“Thank you for your blessing.” Zach shoots back, dumping his towel on the bench and Alex almost faints because, okay, that was impressive. Almost too impressive. You don’t get to be built like that, a firefighter and hung like a horse. 

“Oh, huh, well sweetheart, you can look but you can’t touch.” Zach teases, now flaunting his body as he strolls casually over to the closet, “See, I already have a boyfriend, who is hotter than you, younger than you, pretty much just better than you.”

“Lucky you, send him my condolences.” Alex bites back, grabbing his own gym bag.

“Condolences?”

“Yes, I pity the fool who has to deal with you, that man must have the patience of a saint or be a masochist.” 

“Pity him?” Zach laughs, cocking a hip and gesturing vaguely at his own, still very much naked body. “Are you blind old man? Look at me. I’m fucking hot.”

Alex’s eyes, traitorous and hundred percent unhelpful, did exactly that, unfortunately and they did appreciate the view before them.

Clearing his throat, he clarifies his position as he tries not to check out the asshole in front of him. “Sorry, let me be clear, my friend. I feel sorry that your poor boyfriend has to deal with your alpha fucking jock attitude when it comes to feelings… Who needs to be mature, or deal with shit when you can come to the gym at two am and act like an absolute asshole. Shouldn’t you be cuddling with your other half? Talking about your day? But instead you're here, in all your vain glory.” 

He notices the change in the air straight away, as Zach’s breathing changes and he pushes past him to the staff only cupboard with no comment. Alex goes to say something, but comes up short. Instead, he finally leaves the locker room.

Stopping to chat by the door, which allowed Zach to catch up with him, pushing past him, causing the guy he was talking to look over at Alex and ask, “What’s his problem?”

“He’s a dick.” Alex explains simply, and loud enough for Zach to over hear.

“I can tell.” the guy replies, watching as Zach walks towards the door

“Oh, get fucked you Swedish bastard.” Zach shouts back at him from the glass sliding doors of the gym. 

 **

Stepping out into the fresh air, Alex heads toward his sleek, silver Volvo S90 sedan, a plug in hybrid which couldn’t have highlighted the differences between them any more. Where Zach’s car was a blue petrol guzzler, designed to be loud and draw attention, Alex’s car was quiet and environment friendly.

Plus the S90 had never done donuts before or outran the police… 

Not that Zach had ever taken part in illegal street racing or fled the police, of course. Alex is sure that Mister Hot Head Boy Racer was the pinnacle of safe, responsible driving. 

Alex’s halfway to the driver’s side door, in his own little world when he notices the movement, something small and scruffy huddled near the dumpster at the edge of the lot.

It’s a dog, or at least, looks like it was once a dog, crouching near the gym dumpster, practically skin and bones, its ribs clearly showing, its ears pinned back and tail tucked tight against its belly. Growling behind its matty and gross brown and white fur. 

A small brown and white Jack Russell terrier. 

Hesitating for a moment, Alex looked around the empty carpark, just as he was wondering whether to call someone about it, Zach reappears at his side like a bad penny…. Or was it smell? Alex could never remember the saying in English.

“That's your dog?” Zach asks, voice still slightly pissy, because of course.

Alex shoots him a dirty look, offended at the notion that he would neglect an animal like this, whoever did this deserves to be shot. “Nej, the dog is not mine. I just saw it when I came out here to leave.”

Glancing around the empty lot, Zach frowns, biting his bottom lip in a way that should not capture Alex’s attention, mainly because Zach was not single, but also because he was an asshole who didn’t appreciate being rescued from his own stupidity on the bench press…. 

“Huh. Weird. I don’t see anyone else out here.” Zach comments, folding his arms, eyes still looking around the carpark. 

“Ah, huh, I hate to break it to you genius, but the dog is clearly a stray, ja? Look at it.”

Without waiting, Zach drops to his knees (sadly dressed this time, and yes, Alex mentally scolded himself for that thought), hands on his thighs like he was about to coax over a nervous scared child rather than a stray dog. “Hey, buddy. C’mere. It’s okay, here boy, come here.”

The dog lets out a low, uncertain growl, hackles up.

Crossing his arms, Alex watches the dog carefully, ready to jump at any stage if it attacks. “It’s growling, nay? Maybe we should ring Animal Control?”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Zach shoots back without looking.”I kinda noticed without your news update Fox n Friends.”

“Maybe you should leave it alone, if that is possible for you.” Alex adds, as he looked around for any sign of an owner, despite it clearly being a stray. Men man kan ju alltid hoppas , or for the English speaking, one can always hope.

“Thanks for the advice,”

“All I’m just saying, maybe don’t get too close. It could bite you, and it might end up with rabies.” Alex adds, before he pauses for effect, “I mean, I do make the presumption that you don’t already have rabies.”

Looking up at him, utterly unimpressed, Zach rolls his eyes dramatically. “Jesus Christ, look with your eyes and not your feelings, dickhead - hard I know-”

“Hey-”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did someone forge they stole my fucking clothes before? Anyway, my point, look - rail between the legs? Cowering? That’s fear, not aggression, obviously. It’s not wanting to attack, it’s wanting to not get hurt.”

Alex raises a brow. “And you’re an expert in canine psychology now?”

"Well, I mean, maybe I just have something called, oh I dunno, empathy. You should try it sometime. It’s like cardio for your soul. Karma and all that jazz, ya know.”

Snorting, Alex shrugs off the comment. “I work twelve-hour shifts saving people from car crashes and overdoses. I think my soul’s fine.”

However, Zach ignores him, reaching slowly out to the dog. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly to the dog. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Then Zach twists around to face Alex expectantly, all wide eyed and concerned for something other than him . “Say, you got, like, any food in your car, bro? Like, I dunno, maybe a kebab? Or leftover chicken nuggies? Anything, dude…”

“What? No. Who just has kebabs in their car?” Which is a perfectly reasonable response to that question right? 

“Umm, I do… well, like, sometimes, not now….kebabs are fucking amazing bro.”

“Uh, well all I have is a leftover ham sandwich….” Alex stutters,

“Perfect,” Zach says, with a grin but not actually explaining what he meant, and to be fair, looking back Alex did feel stupid for not seeing where this was going earlier.

Before Alex can protest, Zach is already walking toward his car, opening the driver's door wide and just rampaging through his vehicle like some temu thief.

“Wait, stop, what are you doing?” Alex calls, following after him.

“Borrowing your sandwich.” Zach replies with a stupid grin, “Oh, well, like, borrowing is kinda a loose term, for real,like you could have it back after but….”

“You can’t just….hey, that was my sandwich.”

“Yeah, it was, now it’s not, life’s like that sometimes” Zach says casually, unwrapping it like he wasn’t a cold, calculating sandwich thief, “but like you don’t need it, do you bro? Besides, you’re like a viking or something, you’re meant to be eating meatballs - if anything, I’m doing you a legit solid here, my dude, you can thank me later.”

Oh, Alex knows what he would like to do to Zach later as he stood there uselessly, staring at the sandwich stealing asshole, who was already crouching again, holding out the sandwich, as the dog inched closer and closer. 

Then Zach misjudged the situation as he reaches for the dog, who spooked, bites Zach's hand, before it yelps, and runs behind a parked car. 

“Ouch, okay, bugger fudge coconut, that’s okay, that’s okay, that was my fault… it’s okay, I’m not mad, like, my bad.” 

Cradling his hand, Zach bit his lip hard before he shook his hand, glancing down at it, as Alex tried to look over his shoulder to see the damage. 

Then, exhaling with a slight grimace, Zach goes back to trying to coax the dog back and Alex hated to admit he was impressed, and also concerned, in a strictly neutral way, of course.

Equally concerning, Zach whips off his tee shirt, so now for some reason he was couching shirtless in the carpark. 

“Ah, what are you doing? Are you trying to woo the dog with your six pack?” Alex asks, trying not to stare.

“Haha fucking ha, no, dude, I kinda don’t wanna get bitten again, wild right? Anyway, Imma use my shirt like a blanket to wrap lil buddy up.”

“Ah, ja, of course, or you could have, maybe asked me if I had a blanket in my car, which I do.” Alex replies teasingly, enjoying the slight blush he swore he saw on Zach’s face.

Blushing a deeper shade of red as Zach remembers, he admits “Uh, huh, oh, I forgot, I like, have a blanket in my car too.”, before clearing his throat, “Whatever, it’s not illegal to be shirtless, or whatever, so, like, just chill.”

No, it was not.  

Before adding “-but, like, I think theft is, no cap” and then Zach was looking up at him, with a stupid grin and a wink, before turning his attention back to the small, frightened Jack Rusell. 

Second try was the charm: Zach bundling up the dog against his chest, wrapped up in his shirt like a budget firefighter calendar. Alex is desperately trying to push that thought out of his mind as Zach starts cooing at the bloody dog like a baby.

“Who's a good boy? you are, yes you are, it’s gonna be okay.”

In return, the dog growls and nips at him, not that it bothers Zach, who was gently rocking the dog like a baby against his chest.

His decidedly bare chest.

Putting the dog gently in the back seat of the WRX, before popping the trunk and started fiddling with something determinedly, complete with a little ‘hmmm’ which should not be adorable, and Alex chose to believe his tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth as he focuses on whatever it was. 

“What are you doing now?” Alex asks, as he looks over Zach’s shoulder.

“Just disconnecting the subwoofers dude, duh,” Zach explains, like it was obvious. “Like I can’t exactly blast sick ass bass drops when he’s shaking like a leaf, ya know? Poor thing’ll have a heart attack, and I dunno CPR for dogs… is it like CPR for peeps? Would you even know?”

To be honest, no, Alex didn’t know CPR for dogs either. He held back a ‘I’m a paramedic, not a vet’ reply, even if his inner Star Trek nerd was dying to play the Bones to Zach’s Kirk. Not that Zach was charming enough to be Kirk, although he was certainly impulsive enough. 

Instead, “Well, you have priorities, I’ll give you that, kinda surprising… but in a good way.”

As Zach comes around the car, Alex catches sight of his bleeding hand.

“You’re dripping,” he says, stepping forward and grabbing Zach’s wrist, gently twisting it to look at the dog bite.

“That’s what she said.” Zach jokes, as he tries to pull his wrist away, and perhaps, legally at least, Alex should have let him. All paramedics know you can’t treat people who don’t want to be treated but he kept a tight hold on Zach’s wrist regardless.

“No, idiot, you're bleeding.”

“It’s really not-” Zach tries arguing. 

“Stop it right now, I have a first aid kit in my car,” Alex says, already pulling him toward it, and Zach trailed behind him like a puppy. “Come on.”

“I can patch it myself-” Zach says, trying to protest, despite making no physical effort to pull away from Alex’s hold. 

“For god sake kid, listen to me. Sit down and shut up.”

Listening for once without arguing, and maybe surprised by the tone, Zach relents. He didn’t sit so much as let Alex sort of nudge him down onto the curb while Alex crouches in front of him with a disinfectant wipe and bandage.

Alex cleans the wound, the silence stretching between them. Zach winced slightly as he cleaned deeper, making sure it was clean. The last thing he wants is the idiot managing to get it infected, not that he cared. It was just his paramedic oath to look after the injured. 

Nothing more.  

“You could’ve gotten seriously bitten,” he mutters, not quite scolding but close. For it to be a scolding, he would have to care for Buck’s partner's friend, and he did not. 

“Okay, okay, like relax bro, he was just, ya know, like, scared… it's not like he was dangerous.” 

Pausing, letting the wipe hover above Zach’s hand, Alex sighs quietly, before he continues. “My friend, that’s when things are the most dangerous, when we’re scared, frightened, and confused, is when we lash out the most and we’re unreasonable…”

And didn't Zach know it, he wouldn't have lashed out at Tommy and Lucy earlier if he hadn't panicked, and felt cornered. In an ideal world he wouldn’t have been such a colossal tool to the two people in the world who had put up with his shit. 

Muttering under his breath, Zach swore “For fuck sake.”, but it didn’t feel aimed at him so Alex opted for once to let it go.

Looking up, Zach’s eyes catches Alex’s as the younger man's face softens under the carpark lighting, “Oh, shit sorry, yeah, not you bro…. ahh, good point I guess, it's just...”

Zach dosen’t finish the sentence, and Alex didn’t push, because it’s almost like Zach actually gives a damn about something other than his own reflection, but if that was the case then Alex would have to readjust his assessment of Zach.

Slowly bandaging Zach’s hand as Zach spent his time looking down at the footpath, “Ya know,” Zach starts, almost nervously for someone so cocky, “You’re wrong by the way, earlier, in the locker room…”

The change of subject caught Alex off guard.

“Oh? So you should be allowed to get away with making a mess?” Alex ribs gently. “Or perhaps when I said you should get dressed, giving you’re now halfway undressed again…”

Zach huffs, unimpressed, letting Alex know that the joke had gone down exactly how he had hoped, “No, I mean, just, if my boyfriend wanted to talk about our day… I would be keen, but…”

He trails off, shrugging, eyes fixed on the blue WRX sitting next to them.

Alex’s fingers still on the bandage, not expecting that answer.

After a second or two, perhaps even three of just holding Zach’s injured hand, he asks “Why are you telling me this?” 

Zach shrugs off the question, face going slightly pink under the street lights in the gym carpark before muttering, “Umm, like, I’m not totz sure, uh, but anyway… thanks for the hand with, well, my hand.” As he inspected Alex’s working, twisting and turning his bandaged hand under the street light. 

Standing up, Zach gives Alex a friendly smile “Anyway.”

He shouldn’t care, but Alex looks at Zach, then at his car, “So what are you doing now.”

“Huh, well, legit, put on a spare shirt, like, can’t walk around a city with these guns out right? Hash tag gun control, bro”

No comment, Alex just gives him a look, although he feels his lips curl into a small smile.

“And, well, then dog shelter, obviously, catch some ‘Z’s and then hit up a coffee before something called work. Ya see, like, I’m a firefighter, and we work weird hours.” Zach replies cheekily, mimicking Alex’s earlier comment about being a paramedic. “Does that meet your approval, Sir?”

“It’s your life sunshine.” Alex retorts, trying to hide the grin behind a smirk, “Just try not to get bit again, I have much better things to do with my time than fix your hand.”

**

Not that Zach’s night gets any better….

So it turns out there are no twenty hour dog shelters in LA, and none of the vets would take in a stray dog, so the only option Zach had was to take the stray home. 

Like, he couldn’t just leave him in the carpark. 

Granted, that was not ideal, given they weren’t even allowed a cat in the apartment, hence why Mister Thomas had been sent to live with Tommy. 

Even just thinking about Tommy made Zach feel super guilty, which was wild because Tommy had over stepped, right? Like Zach was allowed to tell someone to back off. Maybe he shouldn’t have overreacted. Nevermind, he was totally gonna fix it on their next shift, right after he googled how to apologise properly. 

‘Google, how do I make clear boundaries while also acknowledging I was cruel.’

“Well, boy, if you’re coming home with me, I guess I should give you a name….” Zach looks in the rear view mirror at the Jack Russell Terrier , who curled up the footwell of the back seat, still shaking. 

The dog doesn’t respond, obviously but Zach wasn’t really expecting him to. Talking fills the silence, and he wasn’t great at silence. He likes noise, and he couldn’t really blast the radio right now.

So talking to the dog has to do.

“Just so you know, my days of taking home nameless one-night stands are behind me,”  rambling away to fill the silence. “I’ve matured. Like blue cheese, y’know?” He shot the dog a look. “Okay, not fair, blue cheese is gross as hell. Like, if I wanted something that smelled like feet, I’d just… suck toes or something.” A beat as his brain caught up with his words. “Not that I do! Obviously not. I’m just saying…like, forget it. I ramble… ya know, anyway….”

The dog just gives him a blank look. 

Pulling out of the carpark, driving down the quiet streets of LA at two thirty in the morning, Zach could feel the silence eating away at him. No, Zach did not like silence.

Smacking the steering wheel excitedly, Zach exclaims “Ooh!, yo boy, what about Barko Obama?”

Shocked by the sudden noise, the Jack Russell Terrier growls at Zach in response. 

“Get it? Like Barack Obama, the first… something President… I wanna say black, but, like, we can’t have only white dudes as President right? Although, legit, we haven’t even had one female President, like, not one in the two thousand odd years of America, bro.”

He pauses, frowning as his fingers taps the steering wheel, he should have paid more attention in history. The dog let out a low, tired whine.

Zach bits his lip. “Yeah… no, you’re right. That feels kinda icky. Like, can a white dude do an Obama pun without being problematic? That might be a cancelable offense. And boy, I’ve already been yelled at online three times this year. I can’t go through that again, people are super sensitive online bro, like you wouldn’t believe it.”

Arriving at the apartment block, Zach finds a parking spot just down the street, which wasn’t too bad, all things considered.

However the dog does not want to leave the car, growling and trying to hide under the passenger seat. 

“Come on, I know Rexie is sick as fuck, but you’ve got bounce, boy…. Okay, no biting, biting is bad unless both parties consent… ouch… okay, gotcha.”

Cradling his injured hand and the trembling dog in his arms, Zach makes his way up the apartment stairs, whispering reassurances and ignoring the very real fact that pets were extremely not allowed in the building.

It was a bad plan. Like a very bad plan, but also, it was the only plan he had.

Until the door opens and Cassidy appears, glaring at him like a judgmental ghost in sweatpants. He was meant to be asleep, it was almost three am in the morning. Instead, he was standing in the doorway, arms folded, eyes giving away his mood. “For the love of, why do you have a dog?”

“Look, the shelters are closed and it’s only until…”

“No.”

Freezing mid-step, Zach gives some of his best puppy dog eyes. “Dude. You’re meant to be asleep, for real, like, you wouldn’t even notice, legit, I promise on-”

“-Uh, yeah, and you’re meant to not be sneaking contraband animals into a lease-controlled apartment at three a.m. in the bloody morning.”

Zach grins, shifting the Jack Russell Terrier in his arms. “C’mon, man. It’s only ‘til morning, like 7… 8 a.m…. give a dog a break, huh?”

Cassidy did not appreciate the pun, which was rude, it was very clever for Zach, especially at three in the morning, instead, he simply stood firm. “N for No. O for Obviously not. Take your mutt and leave before you get us both evicted, you absolute muppet.”

“Ouch C-Dawg that was ruff, get it, ruff,” Zach tries, stepping into his full charming-chaos mode. “This is just one dawg helping another dawg. Bro code, right?”

Stepping forward, Cassidy leans in until they were practically nose to nose. “Zach. Listen to me very carefully, okay?.”

Zach straightens up, hopeful.

Cassidy smiles tightly, before drawing out his answer. “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

Zach groans in defeat. “Yo, for real, that’s a lot of o’s, man.”

“Indeed, and I meant every single one.”

“But dude, come on…”

“No.”

“This is legit my place too, you can’t just-”

Then the Jack Russell Terrier, already squirming in his arms, started barking loudly, talk about bad timing. Wincing at the loud, very dog-like sound, Zach tries comforting the dog “Aww, come on boy, it’s okay.”

“Zach…”  

Zach sighs, glancing down at the doggy, then up at Cassidy with the most intense puppy dog eyes ever. “Brooooooooo.”

“Come on Cassidy, how can you resist two lots of puppy dog eyes?” Zach all but begs, granted, it might have been easier if the Jack Russell wasn’t still barking its little head off, at three am in the morning. 

Cassidy did have the good sense to look a little guilty, but not enough to change his mind, “Lucky someone has a boyfriend, now’s the perfect chance for KJ to prove he has your back too.”

“I can’t just rock up at KJ’s with a stray dog.”

“Yes, you can,” Cassidy says firmly, already nudging the door shut. “And yes, you will. Now, for the love of God, get out before we both end up evicted.”

**

So, now Zach is pulling up outside KJ’s house, when he spots a car parked on the street outside. Surely not, right? No fucking way. 

Under his breath, he mutters, “Please tell me that’s not Chad’s fucking car…”

Look, he gets that Chad was still friends with K.J. 's mates, like annoyingly stuck up Leo, but still - it stung. Especially when K.J. didn’t bother to warn him that this was the case. 

Knocking on the door, Zach tries to refrain from banging, as he stands on the door step in the fresh air, trying to fight off the yawn that threatened to escape.

Thankfully, KJ answers after a brief wait, looking fucking drop dead sexy with his bed hair and his pyjama bottoms.

“Oh, hey babe.” He greets, leaning in for a small, gentle kiss, “What are you doing on my door at, uh, four in the morning? Like, I get that I’m irresistible, and you are only human but please.”

“Ah, well, see, I have this dog, uh, a stray dog and-” Zach held out the dog, but KJ’s eyes settled on his hand. Because KJ cared, of course. 

KJ’s eyes narrow slightly. “Wait, did it bite you?” Reaching out for Zach’s hand as he asks, holding it as he looks over the bandage, which honestly made it look worse. “Jesus, babe, that looks awful.”

“Oh? No, legit it’s not that bad. Like barely noticeable, just a scratch, nothing too wild.”

That answer satisfied KJ, who let go of his hand, although Zach did miss the warmth of contact. 

“Well, you’re not bringing a feral dog in here,” KJ says immediately, stepping halfway out the door but not opening it wider. “I don’t do animals. You know that, baby.”

“He’s not feral,” Zach says quickly, giving the nervous dog a light scratch behind the ear. “He’s a lil Jack Russell, look at him, he just was scared bro, like vulnerable and all that shit-”

“- Ah ha, lets skip to the part where you explain why you are here?”

Cradling the Jack Russell Terrier in his good hand, Zach rubs the back of his neck with the other. “So, get this, Cass wouldn’t let us crash at our place, lame ass rules or some shit. I just need somewhere to land, even the couch. Just until the shelter opens. Seven a.m on the dot, I’ll be gone by six thirty, that’s it.”

Putting a finger to Zach’s lips, K.J. smiles “Shh, babe, I love that you love animals so much, but this is not an animal friendly house, as it is, letting you inside is pushing the lines of what’s acceptable,”

“Just till six thirty, please?”

“Aww, Zachy baby, I hate saying no to you, so can you just not ask, can you do that for me please? Go find somewhere else, or I dunno, dump it behind a dumpster in an alleyway.” KJ says.

Between the shit day, the little girl almost dying, seeing Alex at the gym(and then having to be saved by Alex), being dead tired and now that (probably) joking answer, Zach feels his body tense before snapping,  “Dump it? For fuck sake, he’s a living animal… like, all I am asking is for some basic… look, even that rank ass couch on the deck out the back, just somewhere I can get two hours sleep, the dog can get a drink of water, is that so much of an inconvenience? ”

Biting his lip, K.J. rocks on the spot, exhaling as he shakes his head.

“Damn it, K.J., do you even care? Like, I get that tonight is your game night, legit, I swear to god I do, but fuck it, I just want like ten seconds of attention where you aren’t passive aggressive and just a place to crash, I won’t even talk to the guys, hell, I won’t even look at Chad’s stupid ugly fucking face. Just, please babe, I’m tired, I’m fucked up and I just need… like a mini hug… is that so much to ask?” 

The Jack Russell Terrier growls in his arms, and he feels an instant pang of regret for snapping. 

“Did you just raise your voice at me?” KJ says coldly. 

“What, sorry, it’s just been…”

“Oh, here comes the excuses.” KJ mocks, slouching against the door, rolling his beautiful brown eyes at Zach which didn’t feel so beautiful right now.

“Look, babe it’s just…”

Snapping back, K.J. glares at him “Zachy baby, don’t make this weird, okay?.... just don’t, let’s not fight over your choices.”

Feeling his throat tighten, he dodges K.J. leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek, stepping just out of range. He couldn’t quite hear what K.J. mutters, and in the moment he didn’t care. 

Rubbing his jawline, K.J. sighs deeply, like Zach was the issue, “Babe, just so you know, Chad’s only here because-”

“I don’t care.”

Glancing up, K.J. frowns, “Babe, don’t be like-”

“I’m not, I don’t care, Iike, I trust you… what I care about is I need you, and you’re… I dunno, like, whatever… I guess, just don’t get too drunk and I’ll go die behind a bin…” 

Even in the poor light of the porch, Zach could see K.J’s face changing, his expression going dark, “Jesus, what the hell are you even trying to say? That I can’t be friends with my ex?”

“Depends if you sleep with him again.”

It was a low blow. 

“And that was an accident, and I said sorry, asshole, and you said that you forgave me, but apparently you didn’t because here you are, at three in the morning, using a stray dog as an excuse to spy on me.” KJ snaps, stepping back into the house and put his hands in hair in frustration, which also showed off his tight body, but that was not the point right now.

Desperate to stop it blowing up any further, Zach tries calming K.J. down, “Babe….”,  taking a step.

Not that it worked. Pointing at the door, K.J. yells at him, “Nope, you and the mutt stay outside.” 

Then Leo appears, “Yo dude.” he says tiredly to K.J. before he notices Zach, “What the fuck man, it’s like… oh, hey Zach, is that a dog? What are you doing with a dog?” 

Turning to Leo, K.J. fumes visibly, “Oh, it is, Zach used it as an excuse to drive all the way over here and accuse me of sleeping with Chad.”

Which is not what happened. 

Turning from K.J. to Zach, Leo gives him a pointed look as Zach tries to clear up the misunderstanding, “Sorry, bro, I swear to god that’s not what-”

Holding up a hand, Leo turned back to K.J., “Dude, what did I tell you about straight guys, they’re nice to look at but you shouldn’t try to tame one.”

“That’s not what’s happening, look, bro-” Zach starts, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Rolling his eyes at ‘bro’,K.J. crosses his arms over his chest in a huff “Are you bro’ing me right now babe? Really?” 

“Shit, like I’m legit sorry, it’s just been, like an absolute diabolical night, ya know and… legit, kinda wild you’d rather have your ex crash at your place and not me, ya feel me?”

With a sigh, grabbing the door, K.J. gave him a tired look “Zachy, baby, I can’t deal with you when you’re like this, go, deal with your mutt and calm ya farm and talk to me when your ready to be an adult, okay babe?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer. He closed the door, not slamming it, just… closing it. 

Staring at the door for a long time before finally whispering, “Yeah. Okay.”, Zach looks down at the still squirming dog in his arms, “It’s alright, we’ll ruff it out huh? Get it, yeah, nah it wasn’t funny the first time was it?”

**

Pulling away, Zach looks down at the car at the dog, “Just so you know, he’s actually really sweet… he is…”

The dog whimpers in response. 

“Look, this is what I tried to explain to Cass, like you can’t just turn up on someone’s doorstep with a problem, you’d be pissed too… I mean, Tommy wouldn’t say no, but you probably wouldn’t get along with Mister Thomas and I, uh, kinda bit Tommy’s head off.. Anyway…”

The Jack Russell Terrier gave a tired snuffle in reply.

“Guess we’re crashing car-camp style tonight.” Zach told his four legged friend. 

Pulling over in a quiet cul-de-sac, Zach reclines the driver’s seat and looks down at the tired dog, “This is technically the first time I’ve really slept in the back of my car ya know, for real. Like, I’ve hooked up in the back a thousand times, but I don’t think I’ve slept in my car…” 

The dog doesn’t care. 

Drifting into a restless sleep, Zach closes his eyes….

The smoke was thicker this time.

Hotter. It didn’t sting, no it burned. His skin felt like it was blistering as he pushed through the hallway, boots crunching through broken glass and charred toys. Somewhere ahead, a child cried.

“Kiddo?” he called, but his voice came out distorted, like it was underwater. “Are you there Kiddo? It’s LAFD.”

Then he was in the bedroom. The little girl sat on the floor, clutching a melted teddy bear, eyes wide and wet. He rushed forward, arms out…

But the floor collapsed between them.

The flames rushed up the walls like snakes, devouring everything. He reached again, but his arm wouldn’t move, like he was glued in place.

“Zach!”

He spun around, and thankfully Tommy was standing there in full gear, but he was shaking his head and even through the gear Zach could feel the… disappointment?

“You didn’t save her.”

Zach blanched at the accusation. “No, wait Tommy, I tried. I swear I…”

“You let her die,” Lucy said coldly, stepping out of the hallway smoke, face streaked in ash. “You got her killed because you were too slow.”

“No, that's not true…I-I got her out, I remember, I-”

Then the little girl was in his arms. Not breathing again, her skin pale and clammy.

Someone screamed in the distance at him, it was her mother, screaming in terror, through his bones into his soul. 

Zach dropped to his knees, doing compressions, counting aloud: one, two, three but her chest didn’t rise. His hands were covered in soot and something sticky.

“She’s dead,” Lucy said flatly, from somewhere behind him. “You killed her.”

He wakes up gasping, back arching off the seat, hoodie soaked in sweat, breath coming in rapid, shallow bursts. The Jack Russel Terrier barks once, startled, then starts whining, staring up at himwith beady black eyes while pawing at his chest. 

His eyes are wet, for whatever stupid reason he’s crying and he has to blink a few times to remember where he is. He’s in his car, he had a dog to look after and it was just a stupid nightmare, he reminds himself as the dog climbs into his lap.

He sniffs, wiping his face with the back of his wrist, then sniffing again because his nose wouldn’t stop running, just like his stupid tears, which were lame and stupid, and pointless. Who the fuck cries over a nightmare?

“I’m not crying, by the way.” Zach told the dog seriously, as snot runs from his left nostril, “I’m just, like, you know, tired, like, that’s all. I’m not a cry baby.”

The dog jumps up, licking his chin, slow and deliberate, before resting his tiny head under his neck like he’d claimed the spot.

Swallowing hard, before he finally gives in, wrapping his arms around the Jack Russell and burying his face into his scruffy, matty fur. At least doggo didn’t hate him. 

**

Alone in the car, Zach sits quietly in the car, slumps back in the driver’s seat, fingers tapping the wheel staring blankly out at the street, the dark sky and street lights but unable to focus.

“Don’t worry, boy,” he murmurs to the stray curled up against his chest. “You’re, like, legit probably the only one who can count on me, right now.”

Sighing, Zach scratches behind the Jack Russells ears, “For real, lil bro,”

The dog whimpers, ears twitching.

“No one else can…” Zach’s voice cracks in the empty car. “Ya know, I killed a girl today- or, uh yesterday - whatever the hell day it even is.” His hands slamming down against the steering wheel, causing the dog to jump slightly. “She needed me and I wasn’t good enough, I held her in my arms and she died.”

Biting his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, Zach sniffs. “Then, get this right, like, I took the deepest insecurities of one of the most patient men I know and used them like a nuclear weapon. Because I’m an asshole.”

He lets out a jagged laugh. “Ya know, I know K.J. kinda sucks, right? Like, yeah, he can be sweet, but he’s a dick. A liar. A cheater. But so was I. And this is the longest I’ve ever been in a relationship. I thought if I could make it work, maybe I’d prove I’m not just… Zach. Ya feel me?”

His fingers drum against the steering wheel, the sound hollow in the small space. The dog shifts, big eyes tracking every movement.

Zach’s laugh breaks into a half-sob. “You know, boy, I legit dropped out of high school. Just didn’t fit in. Then Daddy Dearest, different daddy than Daddy-T, he simply waves his magic checkbook because a Howard must graduate, right? Next thing I know, I’m at university. Me. What the hell was I doing at uni?” Shaking his head at the absurdity of it. “Anyway, two guesses what I did. Yup. Bailed. Jumped on a plane with Daddy’s money to Thailand. Ran halfway across the world like a spoiled coward… although, legit, got this cool tattoo”

Shuffling in the seat, Zach pulled up his hoody to show the dog his tattoo, which the dog sniffed at it, before licking the bare skin. 

A moment passes, before he hits the dash with the flat of his palm. “You know how I became a firefighter? My big middle finger to Daddy’s real estate empire. My ultimate independence statement. Except, surprise fucking surprise, Daddy dearest ‘helped’ again with a donation to the LAFD.”

The dog presses its nose against the glass, fogging it with a soft huff. Zach stares at the smear for a long time in silence.

“For real, Rexie’s the only thing that’s actually mine,” he says quietly. “Mine. She’s got her flaws, hell, I still owe the bank a grand for her tires but she’s actually mine. Like, my personality, my responsibility. My whole dumb life condensed into this car.”

His eyes flicker toward the dog. “I have people, right? Party people. Beach people. But no one really cares. I almost died of meningitis in a flat full of people and only Tommy noticed… and I still managed to blow up at him.”

Zach exhales hard, head dropping forward onto the wheel. The dog blinks slowly at him, fogging the window again, silent and steady in the passenger seat.

“Now, I’m talking to a dog in my car, go me.” 

**

Zach must’ve drifted off again, because the next thing he knows, there’s a sudden, sharp rap against the driver’s side window, loud enough to jolt him upright and startle the dog into a panicked bark.

“Shit!” Zach woke up, gasping, heart slamming into his throat. All the while, the little, but sharp claws of the dog scrambling out of his lap, and into the footwell of the passenger seat, barking its little head off as a bright flashlight beam lit up the interior like a crime scene.

Shielding his eyes with one arm, Zach swore while regaining his senses. “Jesus fucking Chri… I mean, goddammit, like could you not asshole? Fuck off”

Outside, red and blue lights were flickering behind him, confirming what his bloodshot eyes were just starting to process.

“Oh, come on,” he groanes, glancing at the rearview mirror. “What the actual fuck dude, how is this even legal.”

The dog let out a confused whine, abandoning the footwell, and tries to climb halfway into his hoodie. Zach runs a hand over her back, trying to calm her, then rolls down the window.

A pair of LAPD officers stood on either side of the car, one older,  his jaw tight like he was trying to look tough, the other younger, who was at least hot, but was crackling with the energy of someone dying to write a ticket.

Lucky Zach.

“Evenin’, officers. Or mornin’. Or, you know, like, whatever unholy hour this qualifies as. What can I do you for?” Zach asks, blinking against the flashlight shining right in his face.

“Is this your vehicle, sir?” the younger one asks.

Zach goes for a dramatic pause, then gestures around the (only slightly messy) inside of the car, with the discarded tee shirt in the back, a half drunk redbull and a ‘sex wax’ air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. “Well king, I mean, I hope so, considering the bank and I have this ongoing toxic relationship involving monthly payments and a soul-depleting interest rate, that’s who you should be arresting bro, not me.”

“And why would we be arresting you, Sir?”

“Damn, it’s kinda hot being called Sir.” Zach replies instead. 

The older officer didn’t even react to the comment, instead he snaps. “Driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance.”

Sighing before he started digging slowly through the glove box of the car, while trying to ignore the dog that was nosing at his elbow, Zach mutters under his breath. “Like, isn’t this harassment?”

“Are you aware you were sleeping in your car?” The older officer asks, like Zach wouldn’t be aware that he was currently alone.

“Oh, really? No shit Sherlock, I thought I was doing a… a… like, you know, those cube things that smart Asians hack super quick, like…”

Rubik’s cube! That’s what those stupid little pointless things were. 

“Driver License, registration and proof of insurance Sir.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time.” He grumbles to himself while handing the paperwork over.

It is then that the Jack Russell pokes his head back up, small beady black eyes watching as the older cop grabs it and Zach prays to the universe he didn’t bite the cop, before sneezing directly in Zach’s face. 

Wiping dog sneeze off his face, Zach sighs “Cheers for that, ya know exactly what I need, huh?”

The older one disappears into the night (or more likely, the patrol car), leaving the younger one standing there, all cocky and ever so slightly hot. To be honest, Zach missed the days he was straight, and then he could just be pissed off with the cop rather than admiring how those pants cupped his ass. 

Like, arrest him but make it sexy. 

But seriously, don’t arrest him.

Returning after a minute or two, the older officer scribbles something on a note pad as he approaches the window. 

“No warrants. Vehicle checks out,” he says. “But you are in violation of LAMC §85.02, otherwise known as sleeping in a vehicle in a restricted zone. This is a citation. Twenty-five dollars.”

Then he tears off the ticket before handing it over.

“Excuse me?”

“You broke the law kid, that’s what happens. It’s called responsibility" 

Accepting the ticket with a (hopefully) neutral expression, Zach grumbles mostly to himself. “Cool, cool, cool. Just what I wanted. A souvenir of , like, the worst night ever, cheers bro.”

“You’ll need to move along,” the older cop adds, somewhat unnecessary if you were asking Zach. “You can’t stay here.”

Giving the officer a mock salute, Zach answers in his best Army voice. “Yes, sir. Right away Sir, I’m so sorry Sir, please forgive me Sir.”

“Do you want another ticket?”

See, this is why people love Firefighters and hate the Police, Zach thinks, but he keeps it to himself. 

**

9:03 a.m., the LA sun was already too bright for Zach’s taste as he pulled into the shelter parking lot.

Looking over at the dog curled up on the passenger seat, tail wagging weakly. His eyes, big and impossibly soulful, look up at him like he hadn’t just ruined his hoodie, his sleep cycle, and possibly his criminal record.

Who gets a criminal record for sleeping, honestly, the L.A.P.D need to focus on more pressing crimes. 

Not to mention his relationship, although Tommy and Lucy would be happy to hear that. 

“Well, doggo,” Zach said softly, rubbing behind his ear, “this is it. The big goodbye. You’re free now. Go find a new sucker to manipulate with your weird scrunchy little face.”

The dog tilts his cute little face, staring at Zach with those cute little teddy bear eyes he has.

Sniffling, Zach stretches awkwardly in the car. “I’m kinda sorry for crying and snotting all over you, but hey, you like totz bit me, so like we’re even, right?”

He tries to grin, but it wobbles, and before he could stop himself, he leans forward and kisses his forehead, or the doggy equivalent was.

“I hope they find your human. Or someone cooler. Maybe a rich lesbian couple with a yard and no stupid kids. Not me. I’m barely holding it together, and I don’t even own matching socks.”

Opening the car door, he smiles at the small dog, who is quite content on the passenger seat. “Alright. Let’s go, menace.”

Inside, the shelter lobby was quiet but cluttered, all white tiles and generic posters of smiling dogs and ‘Spay or Neuter Today!’ signs that feel weirdly threatening, coupled with dog toys, food, treatments for sale in the small space. 

Approaching the front desk, trying to look less wrecked than he was, Zach checks his breath, and it passes (barely). He still hasn’t slept properly, his hair sticks out at odd angles, and his hoodie smells faintly like sweat, tears and dog.

“Yo,” he says, setting the dog gently on the counter, “found this lil homie in the carpark outside Pump’d Gym in Silver Lake. About two this morning.”

The receptionist, a woman in her mid-40s with librarian glasses and the demeanor of someone who took policy very seriously, glances up from her computer after what feels like a solid thirty minutes.

Honestly, she’s lucky he only rings the bell three times before she snatches it away, and goes back to typing before:

“Two this morning? Two a.m?” she repeats, eyeing him over the rims.

“Ah, I knew you were secretly listening to me, you were just being bashful, huh?” Zach replies, cracking out his signature old lady grin. 

 “Sir, you’re aware that by city ordinance, you’re required to notify LA Animal Services within four hours of finding a stray, and provide us with two different photographs so we can attempt to locate the rightful owner.”

Right, because what he really wants is to be yelled at by yet another stranger. 

Turning up the old Zach charm, he leans on the counter and gives her a smooth smile. “Right, and see, totally fair, valid, love that for you but legit sis, it was two a.m., and you guys weren’t open. Unless you secretly run a night shift with, like, the raccoons or something, I was a lil tight on options, ya get me?”

“We open at seven, it is now nine.”

Zach checks his phone. “Okay, well… you got me there beautiful but like, a dude needs some sleep. I mean, it takes a lot of work to look, like, this perfect, right?” and he unashamedly flexes his muscles for her, however she is not very impressed, going by the look on her face. 

“I wish I could sleep in till nine am on a weekday” she replies coldly, raising her ugly ass eyebrows at him. She should focus more on her appearance and less on being a judgy cow. 

Right, so clearly the charm offesnce is not going to work on her, she must be a lesbian and not the fun kind. “Yo, for real, sis, I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“It’s relevant, Mr…”

“Anderson. Zach Anderson.”

She types something into her computer. “It’s relevant because this stray is now being processed under a delayed reporting violation. I’ll need you to sign a citation acknowledging the late notification.”

Zach stares at her, deadpan. “Now, hold up, sis, you’re fining me? Me? Like, do you even hear yourself, champ? That’s not tight at all, sis”

“Yes, and call me sis one more time and I’ll double it.”

“Even though I rescued him? Even though he b-” Stopping himself, as he remembers that biting was a crime for dogs, and he didn’t want little homie getting put down over a stupid nibble. Zach often calls himself a snack, so really, was it the dog’s fault? 

“You still failed to report within the required four-hour window,” she says, handing over a clipboard. “It’s a municipal infraction. $45.”

Zach stared at the paper for a long second, then sighs deeply, pulls out a pen, and scrawls his name across the bottom. “Ahhh for fuck sake... fine, add it to my fuck-it list.”

“There will be none of that sort of language around here.”

“Sorry sis, I’d hate for you to fucking fine me again, that would fucking suck mother fucker.”

Her expression didn’t change, but her tone drops a degree colder. “Mr. Anderson, I can and will trespass you from this facility for abusive language if you carry on like that.”

Zach threw his hands up, taking a step back in frustration and lack of sleep. “Alright, alright…fuck. Message received bitc-issssss-.” Zach rattles his brain for an alternative as the lady sits back in her office chair, glaring at him, daring him to come up with an answer “-Yeah, nah sorry, that was gonna be bitch for real, no cap.”

He gives her a fake smile, "Sorry?"

Yeah no, it didn't work, she still looks kinda angry, like the vein in her neck was gonna pop. 

So he hands back the clipboard, and looks down at the soft, sad dog one last time.

He was looking up at him, little tail thumping against the counter. Still trusting and oh so soft and fluffy, even with his matted hair. He should have taken him to a dog wash. Damn it Zach, you never think of anyone else do you, he mentally scolded himself.

Regardless,swallowing that stupid lump in his throat, Zach leans in to whisper in his ear.“You’re gonna be okay, alright?” brushing his nose against the dog's cold, wet snout. “They’re gonna find your people, or someone better. Someone who doesn’t cry into your fur at 3 a.m.”

The dog replies by licking his nose.

Zach sniffles, probably from allergies or something. “Oh, yo home boy that’s rude, like here I was trying to have a proper moment.”

The receptionist clears her throat. “If you don’t mind Mr Anderson, I have other things to do than deal with this.”

Zach steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets, before turning to leave. “Later, menace. Try not to bite anyone who doesn’t deserve it, or who does.” Giving the receptionist a look. 

Pushing through the door, sunlight hit his eyes and made them sting.

Probably just the light.

**

The plan was simple. There wasn’t enough time to go home and shower, but he had enough time to pop into the little cafe and grab a coffee for himself, Lucy and Tommy. The coffee would give him an excuse to talk to them, and then apologize for snapping, and then it would all be sweet.

He missed them. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, but his chest already felt too quiet without them around. His phone gallery was full of fresh memes he’d saved to show Tommy, hot guys and ladies to show Lucy (who was apparently picky about when something was objectifying someone and when it was self empowerment, all Zach knew is regardless, he got a boner and that kept him happy)

Oh! And then there was the dog, and the fines! Both of them, oh Tommy would hate the injustice of it. Lucy would find it hilarious and roast the fuck out of him. 

Except, he would have to work out a way that it wasn’t KJ’s fault… not that it was KJ’s fault, it just might look like it was, and Zach just couldn’t deal with that. K.J. is not a Saint, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he is not a Devil either. 

But coffee fixes everything, especially good coffee. Especially good coffee with an apology copied straight from a Youtube tutorial, or maybe ChatGPT. 

But still, it was a fool proof plan. 

Until he parks his car in a no-parking zone for just five seconds to get the coffees, and ends up with another parking ticket that he adds to the other two in his glovebox that need to be paid asap. 

Until he gets to work, balancing the coffees in one hand when…

Splat. 

Three perfectly good coffees on the carpark asphalt. 

He looks down at his ruined shoes, coffee-stained hoodie, and the crushed remains of what was supposed to be a peace offering.

“Plan B,” he says to himself, voice flat.

Chapter Text

To be honest, Tommy had expected to wake up to a text message from Zach and was a little  disappointed, but not surprised to wake up only to a text from Lucy and one from his Cap.  It was probably for the best that Zach cooled off before messaging him, so maybe it was actually a good sign. Besides, Zach couldn’t hide when they both had a shift today. 

The Captain wanted him to start early, which was not unusual; prior to Buck coming into his life, Tommy’s main focus in life was work and the weekly basketball game, with a healthy dash of the gym.

Uncurling himself from Buck, he types out a reply to the Cap, confirming he can start early today before climbing out of bed, careful not to disturb Buck.

The kitchen comes alive as Tommy cooks up some eggs, waffles, and a disgusting smoothie that Buck loves before said man comes tumbling into the kitchen in just his boxers, messy curls and a bright, morning smile.

All in all, it’s a very good start to the day.

Things are boding well. 

**

Tommy could spend forever sitting in the kitchen, talking with Buck, watching the way the sunlight highlights his face, but he knows life is not that simple. So, one lonely shower later (God knows he would never get out if he let Buck join him), and he presses a kiss against Buck’s cheek.

“Uh… hey Tommy.”

“Yes, Evan?” Tommy replies, eyes focusing on Buck’s plump lips.

“Ah, promise me, when you see him…” Buck starts, and Tommy resists the urge to roll his eyes at Zach being referred to as *him*, however, it is nice to have a ‘ride or die’ in his life after being alone for so long: “…today, don’t just let him get away with what he said.”

Buck’s face goes serious, and Tommy makes a note not to tell Buck how cute he looks right now “And” he adds, “Uh, please promise me that you won’t apologise first, I warned him at the golf course not to hurt you.”

The sentiment is sweet, but Tommy feels slightly misguided. While Zach definitely went for blood last night, and it stung (it still stings to be honest, and Tommy may not have gotten the best night's sleep last night), it was still bad timing on his and Lucy’s part.

And, yes, Zach is an adult – but let's be honest, Tommy is the grown-up here, and as much as he tries to pretend that he’s not a role model, he’s aware of his influence over the younger idiot. For better or worse, Zach looks up to him - or at least he thinks he does, it’s hard to tell after last night. 

Those words did hurt. 

Still, it’s Tommy’s plan to sit down with Zach, let the other man vent and not take it personally, apologise and then try to coax an apology out of him.

Best laid plans, right?

**

Driving to Harbor in L.A. traffic reminds Tommy why he prefers flying to driving; he taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he waits. L.A. needs better mass transit, he muses to himself as the radio plays in the background or his house needs a helipad as well as a car-jack. 

His phone rings, and he uses his hands-free set to answer it (he’s a firefighter; he’s seen enough car crashes because people are on their cellphones).

“Go for Kinard.” He says.

Lucy’s voice fills the vehicle, “Good morning, Princess, how are we doing this morning?”

“Mhmm, feels homophobic.” He jokes.

“Still fragile, I see,” She replies simply, “Speaking of fragile…”

With an embarrassing snort that Tommy tries to play off, he answers the unspoken question. “No, I haven’t heard from our favourite troublemaker.” And he can’t help the sigh that escapes.

“I sent him a message on Snapchat, he opened it and saved it in chat, although he didn’t bother with a reply, soooo, take from that what you want.”

Tommy snorts again, unable to play that one off as Lucy laughs at him, but it’s a good sign – the saved in chat on Snapchat, not the snorting. See, it might seem silly, but Tommy’s discovered that when Zach is in a good mood, he saves everything in chat on Snapchat – everything, no matter how mundane or pointless – it’s when he doesn’t save the snap that something is wrong.  

It’s something that Tommy’s put down to the simple fact that normal people don’t make sense, so why would he expect Zach to? Plus, it’s a handy tool. 

**

The first indication that today is not going to go smoothly is when Tommy arrives at Harbor and the Captain greets him, “Kinard, you and Lucy will be with Jonas today.”

Trust Zach to try to hide from him. He shakes his head before he replies, “Uh, okay, Cap. Did Anderson ask for a switch-up?”

Perhaps Tommy misjudged, going by the Captain's confused look, “Why would Anderson request a switch-up?”

Damage control time, “Uh, well, given that Donato and I are still working together, but you subbed out Anderson for Jonas….”

The Cap’ still looks puzzled, “I would assume, Kinard, that Anderson would have mentioned switching out with you, no? This is my choice, I want the kid to talk to the therapist before he resumes work, after yesterday's fatality on the call.” 

“Oh, right, of course - great idea, Cap’” Tommy agrees, and it probably is. Talking to someone will help Zach, and it might even help with their internal issues too - take it from someone who is used to running from the truth instead of facing it. 

Still, it does throw a spanner in his plan to talk with Zach on shift. 

**

Speaking of Zach, a couple of hours later he arrives to start his shift after dropping off the menace that was the Jack Russel terrier when he drops the ‘fix-it’ coffees. Things don’t get much better when Cap’ summons him to his office:

“The well-being of my crew, physical and mental, is always my utmost priority,” the Captain explains as Zach sits in an office swivel chair, trying desperately not to swivel in front of the Cap’ – but why, oh why have a swivel chair if not to swivel in it?

Honestly, this was torture. 

Maybe this is what Tommy meant by discipline? 

“Tight,” Zach replies, still distracted by the notion of not swiveling on the chair. “So, umm, what’s that got to do with me?”

“Well, Anderson, after yesterday's situation, I need to bench you for a shift or two until you are cleared by an L.A.F.D therapist to come back to work.”

“Brooooooooo, N’awww come on, bro.” Zach relents and allows himself a half-swivel as a protest against the decision. 

Using all his ‘Dad’ energy, the Captain of the 217, standing behind his desk, gives Zach a pointed look at the use of the word ‘bro’ instead of his title. The title he earned, the title he fought for, the title that demands respect. 

Zach’s mouth runs before his brain can catch up.  “Shit, I mean Cap… Cap, Cap, Cap, Cap… Captain.”

He starts drumming a rhythm on his thigh, then breaks into a half-sung, half-mocked tune from the 1990s before his brain can tell him it’s a bad idea,  “Captain Planet, he’s our hero, gonna something something down to zero…”

The Captain’s eyebrows rise, unimpressed. “Anderson! What exactly are you doing?”

“Oh! Sorry, bro-uh, Cap-Captain… Commander in Chief….Boss man.” Zach lifts his hands in surrender, grinning like it’s going to save him. “I’ve been watching old cartoons lately. Y’know, from the nineties. Figured it might help me, like, relate to you guys better since, like,  you’re all kinda vintage. So, like,… is it working? No cap, you can tell me the truth… oh, wait, when I said ‘no cap’ I meant ‘no cap’ not ‘No, Cap’, ya get me?”

His brain tells him that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop talking, so he purses his lips together and tries for a bashful, repentful grin. 

“Captain Planet, Anderson,” the Captain says, voice level but his eyes giving away the faintest trace of amusement, “is what my children watched.”

Zach tilts his head in shock. “Wait, your kids watched it? Damn, so you’re, like, really old then, huh? That’s absolutely wild.”

‘Oh, hold up Zach Attack”, he thinks to himself, ‘This could be the part where you stop talking again - but damn, Captain is even older than Tommy, and that’s, like, legit old AF.’

The Captain exhales and starts rearranging the papers on his desk. This kid’s lucky I’m patient, he thinks. Or there’d be an Anderson-shaped hole in Harbor’s roster by now.

“Thank you, Anderson,” he says dryly. “In my day, we didn’t even have the internet. We actually went outside, touched grass, lived a little.”

Zach lets out a dramatic gasp. “No internet? Bro- wait, Cap, that’s wild. Like, how did you even function back then, for real, like, you want kebabs, internet. You want sex, internet. You want really freaky sex, yup - still internet. You want a job? Internet! Dude, that’s prehistoric.”

He bites his lip as he thinks about it, “Like, no internet at all? Or just not on your phone? ‘Cause I have seen those flippy floppy phones, they’re pretty retro and like-”

The Captain fixes him with a stare sharp enough to cut glass. “Anderson. Shut. Up.”

Zach nods, although his lips are still twitching like he’s biting back a comment. “Copy that, Cap. Muting my mic.”

“Great, thank you, Anderson… Now, as I was saying, once the therapist clears you, you can return to work.”

“But, Cap…” Zach whines, but naturally it’s in vain as he does a 360 swivel on the office chair, like a child and not an adult firefighter talking to his Captain.

“Anderson, do you understand how rank works? -  No, do not answer that.” 

**

Pulling the wool over the eyes of the L.A.F.D. therapist was easier than stealing candy from a baby, which, if you really think about it, is a wild statement, because wouldn’t the baby make a massive scene?

And also, like, bad karma points for real.

Anyway, Zach was winning at this mental test.

He had the charm cranked up, the grin on full display, tossing out jokes like grenades, light enough to get a laugh, loud enough to drown out anything heavy. He’d made her smile twice. She even chuckled once, which, in his mind, meant mission accomplished.

Then everything comes crashing down in a single heartbeat.

The therapist puts her pencil down, folding her hands over the notepad, and looks him dead in the eyes, behind those librarian glasses that would look right at home in a p-.

“Mr. Anderson,” she says, calm but cutting through the noise in his head. “While I understand your desire to get back into the field. Truly, I do, and it’s admirable. But I’m sure you understand that in such a demanding, high-stress role, it’s important that you’re at your peak; mentally as well as physically, and I'm afraid that is not the case at the moment.”

Her voice softens just a fraction. “So it’s my recommendation that you have a three-day stand down, with a return to light duties on day four.”

Zach’s grin falters. For a second, it’s like the room tilts, he can feel his pulse kick up, his stomach drops, and he swears the air gets thinner as the words hit him hard.

There is no way he failed this. No, absolutely not. That is diabolical. It's wild. 

An urge to itch and scratch at his skin surges through his body because he did everything right. He laughed, he joked, he smiled. He brushed off any mention of any concerns that he's upset or affected by the girl's death. After all, people die all the time - it's just part of the job. He did everything he could, at least rationally he knows that. If he happens to see her tiny face when he closes his eyes, it's just because his mind is over dramatic, and he'll get over it. 

“Whoa, come on, Doc, like, legit I’m all good.” He forces a laugh, trying to sound casual, breezy. “I totally smashed this test, right?” He points at his face, the grin stretched a little too wide. “See? Happy dude. There’s no need to bench me, for real.”

The therapist just studies him, and that silence hurts more than any scolding.

"This isn't a test, Mister Anderson."

"Kinda is though, isn't it? Like, you can be real with me, Doc. And I did smash it out of the park, so, like, what's the dealio with benching me?" 

“I think." She says, as if she's an expert, leaning forward "You’re very good at pretending, Zach,” her words deliberately quiet as she gently continues, “But I’ve been doing this for twenty years. And the thing about people who talk the most…” she tilts her head, “is that they’re usually the ones terrified of what happens when they stop.”

Zach makes a 'tsk tsk' noise with his tongue. “Damn, wow, okay, deep quote, Doc. You on Pinterest or something? Ah, but, like, for real, have you considered that maybe I just talk a lot of shit? Like, maybe it's just not that deep?”

Her lips twitch, not a smile, “Go home, Mr Anderson. Sleep. Eat something that isn’t full of caffeine and sugar. Talk to your friends, go to the beach or  a park.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but she’s already standing, closing the folder with his name on it. The sound is final.

He shrugs, as if this is bouncing off him, "Whatever, doc, three-day paid holiday mid-week, that's epic.... really, I should be thanking you… really, doesn’t even bother me in the least - Gonna hit the beach up, get a tan, work on these bad boys - totz cool with me."

She smiles at him, “I’m glad, you should go relax at the beach, that sounds like a great plan.”

Fucking bitch.  

Outside in the hallway, everything feels too bright, too loud. The laughter echoing from the rec room grates on his nerves. He rubs the back of his neck, muttering, “Three days off. Great. Freakin’ awesome.”

He tells himself it’s fine. He’ll hit the gym. Watch some dumb movies. Maybe crash at K.J.'s place and raid his fridge. 

First, he needs to find Tommy and Lucy and apologise though. That'll help.

**

Unfortunately for Zach, when he gets back to Harbor, Tommy and Lucy are out on a call.

Which is fine. Whatever. He’ll just swing past Tommy’s place after shift and smooth things over, maybe grab a drink, and act normal. He has to apologise for losing his cool, ask Tommy (and Lucy) to respect his choice to date K.J. and leave him alone about it, tell Tommy about his night from hell and then maybe take up Doc's suggestion of talking to someone. 

Surely Tommy and Lucy have been through this before? He knows roughly Buck has, perhaps the two of them could bond over death instead of sex for a change. Although legit, Zach loves Buck’s ‘Buck 1.0’ stories. He’s pretty sure Buck at least gave Connor a hand-job, because no one follows a man from Peru to L.A and then gives him his actual sperm for just a friend, right? 

Plus, Tommy, Buck and Za- wait, Connor, Connor of course, that would be a hot threesome, right? Like Daddy T and his boys. 

Not that Zach should probably be thinking about that, for a number of reasons. 

He’s halfway through emptying his gear out of the locker when he hears the familiar sound of Tommy’s laugh echoing from the engine bay as he's chatting to someone. Thankfully, A-shift’s just rolled in from their call and relief flickers through Zach’s chest like a light finally turning green. 

Let's go, team! Time to bury this stupid fight. Although he kinda wishes he wasn’t trembling like some loser, and he definitely should have watched some more apology videos on YouTube before this moment. 

No, he swallows his nerves. He can do this, he can be a man, he can say sorry. Tommy probably understands, right? Like, Tommy is super understanding. 

‘Come on, Come on, Come on, Zach.’ He psyches himself up, ‘Just say, I’m sorry, I was hurting, I was a total and complete tool, but please, just respect my ability to live my life. Also, I rescued a dog and ended up with a bitten hand, and, like, legit three fines.’

Except, good timing can also be horrible timing.

Because the first thing Zach hears is Tommy’s voice, low and serious, saying, “- hold on a moment, it’s not his fault.”

Zach freezes as his stomach drops, pulse spiking again. He shouldn’t listen, right? Like, his Nanny always said, 'people who eavesdrop never hear well of themselves.'

But Zach does listen from the corner of the locker room, not exactly hiding but also not exactly advertising he's there as Tommy keeps going, his voice softer now as he keeps talking to someone, probably Lucy. “Mmmm, you know Zach’s still a kid. He doesn’t know what he said.”

And that does it.

Now, context is important; hearing half a conversation is hardly enough to act on, but unfortunately, even at 25, Zach’s never been good at that. The words patience, restraint and thinking are not in his dictionary. 

Not to mention, he was already on edge from lack of sleep, nerves, and guilt. 

Oh, and all those bloody tickets. Honest to god, what is the problem with sleeping in your car? 

Before his brain can catch up, his body’s already moving, swinging around the side of the truck, adrenaline surging as he sees Tommy, Lucy and whatever offsider they found to replace him.

Jonas - Oh, fuck off. 

“Excuse moi, bastard,” Zach blurts, his voice cracking between outrage, disbelief and good old fashion hurt. “What do you mean, I don’t know what I said? That’s absolutely wild, man.”

Tommy turns mid-sentence, clearly not expecting him. His face flickers from confusion to guilt to something unreadable.

“Hey, Zach, just-” he starts, calm, measured.

But Zach cuts him off before reason can enter the room. “By the way, you bloody know-it-all bastard, I meant every fucking thing I said!”

The words hit harder than a slap, hard and loud, echoing off the concrete walls of the engine bay. Naturally, instant regret follows, fast and heavy, but it’s already too late because it's hard to take back words once they're said.

Tommy’s expression shifts, the kind of quiet hurt that makes Zach’s stomach twist with guilt. Lucy’s right behind him, helmet tucked under her arm, her face going from startled to furious in two seconds flat.

“Wow,” she mutters, eyes narrowing. “You really wanna do this right now, Anderson? Really?”

Tommy straightens slowly, jaw tightening. His voice comes out rough, controlled. “Ahh, you know what, fine. If that’s how you feel…”

Lucy steps forward, glare sharp enough to slice concrete. “Dude, you have no idea what we were talking about, and you just go off your nut at us?”

“No, no - I-I know what I heard,” Zach fires back, voice shaking even as he doubles down. “And I don’t need to be babied, okay? I’m fine, like, just back off and, look, legit I'm sor-” The apology is right there, the word 'sorry' teetering on his tongue, but Lucy steamrolls over it. The last hope of peace was ruined in a second. 

“Oh, you don’t need to be babied?” she snaps. “Then, I don't know Anderson, maybe stop acting like one! You’re yelling and swearing and making a scene like a teenager who just got grounded. Maybe try being an adult for five minutes and talking to us!”

The last bit of rational, calm thought leaves Zach as he scoffs openly, “Ohhh,” anger flooding his system like a bad drug. His chest is burning now, from shame, from exhaustion, from pain “Really, Juicy? A lecture on being a grown-up from you two fucking losers?”

“Zach,” Tommy warns, low and dangerous.

“No, seriously,” Zach barrels on, voice breaking slightly. “Try talking? Try talking? Like, what the fuck are you guys even on right now?”

And it escalates from there, no one willing to be the first to back down until the bay falls silent.

For a long, awful moment, none of them moves.

Then Tommy just sighs, that kind of long, tired exhale that says I’m done fighting you, kid. He shakes his head and mutters, “You know what, forget it.”

He turns away.

And something inside Zach snaps. The bravado, the noise, the anger, it all just drops out of him in an instant, leaving only panic and the raw sting of losing control because damnit, he didn't mean to hurt two of the most important people in his life. He needs these two people so much, so why was he yelling at them?

“Tommy- wait, I-”

But Tommy’s already walking toward the gear room, Lucy close behind, tossing him one last glare that says you crossed a line.

Zach stands there alone, surrounded by the hum of cooling engines and the faint smell of smoke. His throat tightens as he blinks hard against the sting in his eyes.

He mutters to himself, “Great job, Anderson. Real adult shit right there.”

**

Pointlessly driving L.A. is appealing, even with the traffic, windows down, sun shining, but Zach needs to hash out his mistakes because he can't believe that somehow things are worse than last night. Well, not somehow, he's pretty sure he played a significant part in that. 

Fuck.

He's not sure it's a great idea, but he ends up at the mechanics where K.J. works and sits in the idling Subaru for a full five minutes before he drives off to McDonald's around the corner to grab a Frozen Coca-Cola for both of them so he doesn't turn up empty-handed. 

Zach parks up in the workshop carpark again and sits in the car for another five minutes until he finally wipes his hands on his jeans, stares down at the melting drinks sweating in the cupholder, and decides to grow a pair.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, checking himself out in the rearview mirror. “Come on, Zach Attack, you got this, boy. Chill vibes. Totz fine.”

It takes another moment or two before he pulls the keys out of the ignition and climbs out of the car, grabbing the drinks before slowly walking over to the open workshop bays, sunglasses on covering his eyes and whistling to himself to avoid looking down.

An older, round guy in coveralls and a Dodgers cap looked up from under a Chevy. “Hey there, sir! Can I help you?”

"Ah, hey, uh, is K.J. around?" 

The guy turns and shouts into the workshop, "Oi, Catnip, someone's here to see you."

Zach raises an eyebrow at the nickname, as he waits, the Frozen Coca-Cola cold in his hands as K.J. appears, looking like a mechanic from a model shoot,in his dark blue stained overalls, which hang loose around his hips, the top half tied at the waist, leaving him in a white T-shirt streaked with grease and clinging to his chest and shoulders in all the wrong (or right) places. His forearms are bronzed and dusted with tiny scars, veins visible under the sheen of sweat and motor oil.

His curls are the right kind of messy,  where they look freshly tousled, like he just ran a hand through them, and there’s a smudge of oil across his jaw that somehow makes him even more annoyingly good-looking.

Honestly, how Tommy doesn’t like K.J. is beyond Zach. 

“Well, well,” K.J. drawls slowly, sexily as he wipes his hands on a rag, sauntering over. “Pretty Boy. What, can't you survive without me, or did the useless subbie break down again?”

And Zach lets it slide, because K.J. doesn’t understand he’s had a bad day, and he’s already unfairly blown up today. He can be mature. 

"One time, man, like, my girl Rexie broke down once and uh, you didn't mind the wait, if I, uh, remember right..." Zach replies easily, "We must go back to the swimming hole..."

"Ah ha, so Rexie is okay, what brings you here, baby, finally admit you can’t do an oil change without supervision?"

Zach clears his throat, holding out one of the cups as he fakes a wide grin, thankful that the cold hides his nerves. “Ah, well, ya know know, like, just a catch up babe... I, uh, got you a Frozen Coke.”

K.J. takes it with a little smirk. “Ha, well, well, well, look at you, bribing me with sugar. You must really want something, huh baby”

Zach shrugs, trying to play it cool even as the tips of his ears burn, probably from the sun. “Awww, nah, br-babe, I just figured you’d need something cold.  Like, legit, it’s hot as hell today.”

K.J. takes a slow, somewhat seductive sip through the straw, still watching him as Zach swirls the cup in his hands.

“Appreciate it,” K.J. says finally, voice smooth as engine oil. “So, what’s the occasion? You don’t usually drive across town just to bring me an ice-cold brevvy, not that I mind.”

Zach looks away as he swirls the cup in his hands. “Can’t a man come visit his other half at work?”

K.J. smirks, grin wide and cocky under the L.A sun, just the right amount of sweat on his face. “A man, huh? Sure. If you say so. But I thought you had work today? What, L.A. all outta fires?”

The reminder stings more than it should. The Frozen Coke in his hand suddenly feels too cold, and the heat is too intense. He is sweating, from the sun, from nerves, from everything. And instead of a normal sentence, what comes out was a weird choking noise halfway between a cough and a laugh.

Maybe now he could talk to his boyfriend, who is meant to care, and, Zach’s not sure, but come up with a game plan on how not to be a dick to his amazing friends? Or, even just vent for a second? 

Something. 

“Damn it,” Zach hisses, trying to collect himself. “Uh, you remember last night when I said things were, like, a bit shit-”

K.J. gives him a ridiculously exaggerated pout, already leaning back against a workbench, “Awww, baby, I do. And I did tell you to talk to Cassidy, didn’t I? Remember, I gotcha baby." and he gives Zach a playful wink, which does not fix a thing. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, huh, and that was, like, good advice, I, uh, really needed that,” Zach lies easily, trying not to look like he’s trying to guilt-trip K.J. into caring, “but look, baby, uh..." Zach stutters, before he exhales, "Dude, please, just give me a second, okay - like, shit went down and I just need you to listen."

Silence for a moment because Zach’s not actually sure where to begin, before K.J. frowns, "Okay, well, is this the part when you're gonna say something or?"

"Oh, yeah, cool, so..." Zach kind of stalls, huh, "So, like, this little girl died yesterday, uhh, and it, I guess it kinda messed me up, ya know…" he tries not to shake as he struggles to hold eye contact with K.J.

More silence, before K.J. finally says something; "Fuucccccccccccck baby, that is... that is sucky, I didn't realise. Why didn't you tell me? I would have ditched my game night, you know that, right?" 

Zach is speechless for a second because he did try to tell K.J. several times, in fact, but to be fair, he didn't actually say that. Maybe he should have but he's still pretty sure K.J. would have accused him of bringing down the vibe. That is a legit horrible thing to think about your boyfriend, a voice in the back of his head scolds him. 

‘Do you have to be an asshole to everyone you’re close to?’ He asks himself.

So instead, Zach answers with a "Uh, yeah, sure bro, sure."  scratching the back of his neck, "And, uh, I fucked things up with T-bone and Juicy at work, like, real bad, I dunno how I'm meant to fix it."

The reaction he gets isn't what he was expecting. K.J. grins, wide and happy, "Finally, baby, I'm so proud, honest, Tommy and Lucy just bring you down... they're just... You know, lame. Far out, now maybe you can hang out with some actual 'W''s, this is great news."

"Uhh... no. Back up, they're my best friends-"

"They're old, lame and boring. You can do better." K.J. argues.

“Aww, nah, baby, they’ve always been there for me, like, more-” he stops himself, because he’s not here to offend another person, “-they mean a lot to me, for real, and it kinda hurts to hear you say that.”

K.J. grunts, shuffling on the concrete, before:

"CATNIP, I pay you to work, not flirt with every good-looking man who wanders in here, get back to work." 

The guys nearby snicker, and K.J. grins, tossing his rag onto the bench and stepping back toward his car bay.

“Duty calls,” he said, voice low and teasing, "But I'll see you after work, seeing as you have nowhere else to be."

He didn’t mean it like that, Zach’s sure.

But still, as K.J. slowly walks away, instead of focusing on how good he looks from the back, Zach starts to ask himself why he burned all his bridges with Tommy and Lucy for this man. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walks back to Rexie. 

**

Meanwhile, at Harbor Station, in the station's gym, the rhythmic thud of fists hitting canvas echoes through the empty gym. The punching bag sways violently on its chain, groaning with each hit. Tommy’s face is flushed red, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his knuckles red and raw beneath the wraps.

Lucy lingers in the doorway for a few beats before walking in. She doesn’t announce herself, just stands there, watching him unload another round of anger into the bag.

“Poor bag never stood a chance,” she says finally, voice light but tired.

Tommy doesn’t stop. “Neither did anyone else, apparently.”

There’s a long silence between them, filled only by the slap of leather on vinyl. Lucy crosses her arms and leans against the neighboring bag, letting it creak under her weight.

“So,” she starts, “I guess Zach Attack lived up to his name again.”

That gets a short, sharp exhale out of Tommy, something halfway between a laugh and a growl. “Yeah. I guess he did, huh.”

Lucy winces, her tone softening. “Look, Kinard, I shouldn’t have-”

She’s not wrong, but he’s not interested in making this whole thing worse, 

“Mhmm.” Tommy doesn’t look at her, doesn’t stop hitting the bag as he grunts out. “It’s okay, Donato. None of us should’ve done about ninety percent of what happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

“That seems a little over the top.”

Tommy pauses, his fist hovering midair, eyes flicking toward her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, giving him a crooked grin. “I’d say maybe… seventy-five percent, at most. I don’t know about you, but I’ve most certainly done some good recently.”

That earns a low chuckle, the tension easing for the first time since she walked in.

“I appreciate you being there,” he says after a moment, quieter now, the edge bleeding out of his voice. “Even if everything went sideways.”

She gives him a small smile, and Tommy punches the bag again as Lucy chuckles, “So, who are you picturing, right now?”

“Me,” Tommy admits, as he punches the bag again. 

Lucy sighs, like the weight of the world is on their shoulders and not some stupid work drama over a stupid boy. After a beat, Lucy takes a slow breath. “Just so you remember, you’re not a shrink, Kinard. You’re his friend. You can’t control what people do when they’re hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to guide him, right?” Tommy shoots back, voice rough. “That’s the job. And all I did was blow up in his face.”

“Well, I mean, sure, guide him but you can only guide him when he wants to listen, for all the rude, hurtful things he said before. He is right, he is his own person, you’ve gotta let him do his thing.”

Tommy grunts in response, punching the bag again and again until he’s out of breath. Lucy steps forward and gently catches the swinging bag to steady it. “You know, for what it’s worth,” she says, voice low, “I don’t think you’re the villain in this story… Neither am I, nor Zach, for that matter.”

Tommy’s jaw works, eyes downcast. “So what? This is no one’s fault?”

“Fuck no, we’re all dicks, like massive ones, like even bigger than-” Lucy pauses mid-sentence, before she grimaces, “Great, now I’m thinking about Zach’s dick, just great-” she laughs, shaking her head, “We’re all dicks, but no one is the villain, so don’t treat yourself like you are.”

Lucy tosses him a towel, which he catches one-handed. “So, beer?”

“Beer.” Tommy agrees.

**

So, that is how Tommy and Lucy end up drinking on a weekday at the local watering-hole until they’re a tad too drunk to drive home. There’s no need for an uber, because Buck is home so Tommy calls his boyfriend.

“Eevvvvvvvvvvvvvan, I neeeeeed *hiccup* you.” Tommy slurs down the phone, “We wannnna go home.”

“We?” Buck asks, “Uh, who’s we? Did you patch things up with Zach?”

Tommy slumps over the table, sharing a look with Lucy, who has a napkin on her head; he’s pretty sure he didn’t do it.  “Ahhhh, well, you see, not egg-zach-lee- e-zac-exactly *hiccup*, things kinda-”

The straw behind his ear, however, is definitely Lucy’s fault but it suits him, so he leaves it in place.

“Nose dived.” Lucy supplies, leaning over his shoulder, smelling like a bar, as she makes a plane with her hand and crashes it into the bar counter “Crashed and burned, no survivors.”

Lucy’s making explosions with her hands as Buck stutters in outrage in the background, “Wait- uh, just a second, is that why you’re both getting drunk at a bar? What did he do?”

Maybe they should have Ubered. 

**

Never, ever has the bathroom in Zach's pad looked this clean. With four (or five, depending on the situation) guys, all around the age of 25, living in the bathroom, black mould had actually been growing in the corner until Lucy made them give it a basic clean. 

Still, even then, it hadn't shone like it did now. Zach had literally scrubbed it from top to bottom. Whether it was actually clean was debatable, with dubious rag hygiene in place, but that's not the point as Zach slumps against the bathroom wall, next to piles of budget two-ply toilet paper and toilet cleaner. 

His phone rings, which puts him on edge. Only Cap and Tommy ring; everyone else DM's him. Like, who even calls these days? It's just weird. There's a reason he has a mug that says 'this meeting could have been an email.'

He debates not looking at the phone screen, after all, if he doesn't see it, then it doesn't exist, right? That’s the attitude he takes to half his bills, and most of his responsibilities. 

But he's a man. A strong man. So with trembling fingers, he reaches for his phone and swallows his nerves, looking at the screen.

Buck

Summoning as much courage as he can while sober, Zach slides the button across to answer the phone, putting it on speaker phone, "Yo, Buckinator! How's it-"

"Don't you try to act normal, you little ungrateful asshole."

Ah yip, he's gonna skip this, so he hits the hang up button on Buck, drops the phone to the floor beside him and stays against the bathroom wall in a little pit of pathetic despair for probably hours until Cassidy comes barging, unzipped, heading for the toilet before, "What the actual fuck, Zach, I'm about to-"

“Meh,” Zach groans from his spot against the wall, arms crossed over his knees. His head tips back against the tile with a dull thunk. “Go piss, Cass. It’s nothin’ I haven’t seen before. I’m just, ya know, like, havin’ a moment here.”

“In the dark, in the bathroom? On the floor?” Cassidy asks, while bouncing on his feet, desperate to go, “Aww, fuck it, fine.”

Which is technically true. Both parts. Zach and Cassidy have pissed against more questionable surfaces than they could count; trees, alley walls, abandoned car doors after a night out, hell, even once behind a 7-Eleven while a raccoon stared them down. So Cassidy just hums, shrugs, and turns toward the now sparkling toilet.

At least Zach’s proud of one thing, even if it is just a toilet. 

Cassidy finishes up with a satisfied hum and turns around mid-adjustment, which is fine as Cassidy asks, “Okay, bro, no cap, something has got you down, what is it? You look like someone just repo’d your soul. Plus, you rang me at fucking 1 am last night to go to the gym and then turned up with a trash dog, like, what the hell is going on with you?”

Now, Zach was about to answer, but then Cassidy actually has the audacity to wipe his hands on his jeans and take the one step needed to get close to Zach without washing them. Zach, in response, throws up a hand without even looking at him. “First off, legit, wash your damn hands, bro. That’s, like, super gross.”

Cassidy freezes mid-zip, then glances down at his hands, frowning. “Dude, I’ve only touched my cock. You’ve literally had it in your mou-”

“Whoa, okay,” Zach cuts in fast, eyes wide as he tries to stare daggers at Cassidy. “Seriously, that was, like,  one time. As, like, a favour to a bro, don’t be rewriting history on me. And besides, you touched the flusher thingie too.”

“Ah…Yeah, which you just cleaned, right? So what’s the problem?” Cassidy shoots back, smirking now because he can see the vein twitching in Zach’s temple.

Zach screws up his face, dragging a hand down it, rubbing it over the stubble on his jaw. “Nah, I mean it, asshole, stay away from me with your toilet hands, for real.” He shifts further along the wall, boots squeaking on the tile. “You’re like a walking biohazard or something.”

Biohazard, like the one that killed Buck’s like stepdad (or whatever he was), Buck , who now (rightly) hated him for being an asshole to Tommy. 

Cassidy rolls his eyes and heads for the sink with exaggerated flair. “Happy now, mom? Want me to sing the ABCs while I do it?”

“Please, you couldn’t get past ‘D’.” Zach scoffs, leaving his head against the bathroom wall and looking up at the bathroom roof - which he had forgotten existed while cleaning the bathroom and is covered in dust and cobwebs. How does a roof get so dirty, like, shouldn’t the dirt fall off it?

Little droplets of water from Cassidy's hands hit Zach’s face, shocking him as he glares up at Cassidy, who looks unrepent.

Zach wipes his face with his sleeve, deadpan. “You’re disgusting. Like, actually feral.”

Cassidy ignores him, instead going for the jugular: “So, duuuuude, what’s the matter, bro? You can tell me, I’m probably too buzzy to remember.” 

Zach sighs as Cassidy literally crashes down next to him and pokes a finger in his ear. 

“Fuck off, dude.”

A wet, warm tongue licks the side of his face. 

“Oh, really?” Zach complains, screwing his face up in disgust.

“You gonna tell me why you are such a sad potato, all sad n shit in the bathroom, watching dudes pee?”

“I was not… that’s not… ahhh, for fuck sake….I hate you, I hope you know that.” Zach whines,

“Love you too, princess.”

Cassidy is a dick, but he’s also a good dick, so Zach gives in with an impressive pout, before sighing deeply, because fuck it, he needs to vent “So, T-bone and Juicy hate K.J., which is wild, right?”

Cassidy raises an eyebrow. “Huh. Shocking. Couldn’t have seen that one coming,” he says in his best sarcastic voice, which is rude. 

“And I just wanted them to stop harassing me about him, bro,” Zach continues, waving a hand vaguely like the gesture might build him a sentence. “Like, I’m an adult. I can make my own life choices, ya know? I don’t need to be, like, uh, supervised or whatever. But then it got… kinda close to home-”

“Because you finally realised they’re right and K.J. is, what’s the word, a handsome waste of space?”

“Hey!” Zach protests, instantly defensive. “K.J. is-”

“-still a handsome waste of space, my dude, he’s fit but good lord, does he know it,” Cassidy finishes, smirking. “Anyway, what actually happened that’s got you moping on the bathroom floor like some tragic indie movie lead?”

Zach groans, rubbing his eyes. “I dunno, man. I was, like… a little bit of a dick last night. Just a tiny bit.” He pinches his fingers together. “Like, barely noticeable levels of dick. But I was gonna say sorry today, except then first, I got stood down from work because of the dead girl-”

Cassidy blinks. “Wait….what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zach says, staring at the floor. “That’s the other thing I fucked up. Got this kid killed. She wasn’t even, like, five and now…”

The words hang there like smoke; Cassidy’s joking dies in an instant.

“How?” he asks, quieter now, before he kicks himself because it doesn’t seem like the right question. Then again, what would the right question be? 

“Too slow,” Zach murmurs, thumb digging into his palm. “Couldn’t find her in time. Smoke got her. She’s dead because, legit, for all these useless fucking muscles, and the bloody training…I just couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t do my job.”

Cassidy sits there for a moment, the silence between them louder than anything. Then he awkwardly pats Zach’s shoulder, his hand landing somewhere between a comfort and a slap. “Yo,” he says carefully, “that doesn’t sound like it’s fully your fault, bro. Like… maybe-”

“Yeah, well,” Zach snaps, voice sharp, rising in the small confines of the bathroom. “You weren’t there. So maybe don’t talk about shit you don’t know.”

The guilt comes crashing in right after, because of course it does. He glares at the floor. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Cassidy takes a long breath through his nose, letting it out slow. “Dude,” he says finally, softer this time, “you gotta find a better way to deal with stuff. For real. You can’t just go all Hulk Smash every time life chucks a grenade at you.”

Zach huffs out a humourless laugh. 

Cassidy continues, “Ah, huh, right, let me guess, you had a tanty and snapped at T-Bone and Juicy?”

“Ahh, fine, yes, we had words over K.J…. kinda, mean words, and then again this morning… like, I don’t even get how that happened, honestly, I just don’t get it….”

“Dude, that’s mad sad. No cap,” Cassidy says finally, staring at the ceiling.

“I know-” Zach starts, still tired and worn out, he just wants to crawl from the bathroom to his bed but he doesn't have the energy.

“Nah, bro,” Cassidy interrupts, turning his head with a grin. “I mean, it’s mad sad that you’re a lil bitch who chose a douchebag over his besties.”

That was legit rude, and Zach’s head snaps sideways, disbelief written all over his face. “Bro, what the actual fuck are you even on about? I didn’t choose anyone over anyone else! Tommy and Lucy-”

“-had enough of watching whatever this circus is?” Cassidy cuts in smoothly. "They were like, damn, this is my monkey and my circus..."

 “Circus? I'm sorry, did you legit say Circus?” Zach throws back, eyebrows shooting up. “You mean my relationship? Is that what you meant?”

“Ah yeah, nah man, that's not the word I’d use, to be honest with ya,” Cassidy says, leaning back on his hands with a stupid smirk.

Zach lets out a laugh, a short and humourless one, fitting the mood in the bathroom. “Ah, okay, cool, cool, cool. We’re doing this now. Awesome, just fucking awesome. Love that for me, just what I need after everything, cheers.”

He tips his head back, staring up at the bathroom ceiling, at the one weird water stain that kind of looks like a duck if you squint. He’s too tired to argue. The last twenty-four hours have been a disaster. His hand still throbs from that stupid dog bite, his voice is raw from yelling at Tommy and Lucy, Buck hates him (for good reason), and a little girl is still dead.

Forgive him for not wanting to be lectured by a dude who once tried to microwave a Pop-Tart in foil.

Granted, Zach also did not know you shouldn't microwave foil. 

They had found out pretty quickly. 

“Oi, fucker, listen to me,” Cassidy says, sitting forward now, elbows on his knees. “And don’t, and I mean this,  do not, lose your temper with me, okay? Can you manage that simple task?”

Zach side-eyes him, sighing. “Probably not, chief. But yeah, sure. Go off.”

“Coolio daddy-o,” Cassidy says, nodding as he sits next to Zach, buzzing slightly. “Do you, honest to god, think your best friends can watch K.J. treat you like a doormat and not say something? You expect them to ‘respect your choices’ when you don’t even respect your own damn self?”

“Brooooooo…” Zach groans, dragging the word out as he drops his head between his knees. His voice muffled, he mumbles, “Why are you like this?”

Cassidy ignores him, pointing like a prosecutor in a courtroom drama. “No, no bro. Lemme hit you with some straight-up facts. Remember when you called me at, like, 2 AM ‘cause K.J. left you at the beach? Said you ‘ruined the vibe’? And you wouldn’t call Tommy ‘cause you didn’t think he'd understand K.J.'s side of things? That ring a bell, champ?”

Zach’s muffled voice comes through his hoodie sleeves. “Vaguely. Sounds fake.”

“Then,” Cassidy keeps going, relentlessly, “remember when he ‘borrowed’ your Black Amex without asking? Bro. Borrowed?  No cap, that’s not borrowing, that’s straight up theft.”

"It wasn't theft..."

"Oh, what was it then?"

Zach lifts his head, frowning. “Okay, okay, chill, I get it. Yeah, he can be a dick sometimes, but I’m not some fucking saint either, am I?”

Cassidy’s face softens just a bit, eyes losing some of their steely gaze “Yeah, no one said you were Saint Zachary of Harbor Station.” He grins. “You just don’t gotta date the Anti-Christ to prove it.”

Zach barks out a short laugh despite himself, shaking his head.

"No, serious, you're a dick, for sure, bro... like, you're way too loud, way too in our faces, you slept with my girlfriend while I was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, cheated on Felicity..."

"Hey! No, I didn't cheat, she just wanted to go slow, so I told her I was sick... and we were, like still not exclusive, or anything.... If anything, I was, like,  respecting her wishes…"

Cassidy clicks his tongue, unimpressed. "Right, sure, regardless… just saying, there's a difference between being a bit of a dick, lying about being a pilot to have sex and fucking gaslighting the shit out of someone, dude, you used to be a 'bro' and now you're just a sad dude crying in a bathroom, like a drunk girl."

Zach tilts his head and bites his bottom lip, "Yo, I think that's sexist, probably?" He has a feeling Lucy would say something, but then again, it is true, so facts can't be sexist, right? 

"Dude, do not choose that asswipe over your besties, please." Cassidy pleads, "Because, honest to god, I dunno how often I can do these real talks without getting wasted... You don't understand how much I rely on Tommy, no cap."

The door flings open, and Frank appears, "Yo, weirdos, cut out the weird sex crap or whatever you two dorks are doing, K.J. is here to claim his prize."

Zach doesn't miss Cassidy's eye roll as he pushes himself to his feet. 

**

K.J. looks good, because of course he does. In a tight white tee with a blue denim jacket, a grey beanie and black jeans, he's practically a model. He’s standing in the lounge like he owns the place, all easy confidence and that stupid movie-star grin, chatting away with Frank like they’re old bros. His laugh carries, low and smooth, as it fills the room and somehow drowns out everyone else.

Zach drags himself into the doorway, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. He’s still in his Harbor hoodie and track pants, his hair is a mess, and he gives himself a quick sniff test: he smells faintly like cleaning spray, maybe sweat, definitely regret. It's certainly not sexy. 

Not only that, but Zach finds himself in a weird headspace because, like K.J. can be ridiculously sweet sometimes; he is legit the kind of guy who’ll remember Zach’s coffee order and bring it with a grin. But then there’s the other side: the one that talks over him, teases too hard, or treats him like a side character in his own story.

And yeah, K.J.'s body and his beautiful cock he’s packing could turn half the city stupid. It’s unfair genetics, plain and simple.

Like, Zach’s always been proud of the nine inches in his pants, right? Nine thick, heavy inches swinging between his legs like a damn prize, long, veiny, demanding attention. It’s the kind of dick that makes jaws drop… but not always in the fun way. He knows it’s impressive, even beautiful in its own beastly way, but sometimes? It’s more trouble than it’s worth. Too big for most throats, too thick for a lot of asses, and it’s not unusual for a hookup to take one look and suddenly remember they “have an early morning.” Power like that comes with a price.

K.J., on the other hand? He’s packing something a little more... practical. Still plenty to admire, for sure, solid, thick enough to fill a hand, long enough to satisfy, but not so much that it turns into a challenge. It’s the kind of cock that fits comfortably. Sexy without being intimidating, it legit has that Goldilocks vibe: not too big, not too small, just fucking right.

Ya know, like, boyfriend dick. 

Still.

“Yo, baby!” K.J. spots him instantly, waving like they’re on some reality show. “What are you doing hiding in the corner?”

Zach meets K.J.'s gaze and forces a lazy smirk with a half-shrug. “Who, me? Just observing the local wildlife, bro.” 

He reaches out a hand like he’s summoning Zach instead of inviting him. “I thought we could grab dinner, my treat. Seeing as you were all down in the dumps earlier.” He throws a look at Frank, flashing that grin. “You should’ve seen him, man. He rolled up at my work today like some lost puppy. It was kinda sad....Honest, it's lucky you're so good-looking when you're sad.”

Zach’s stomach twists. The words land like a slap dressed as banter. He gives a short laugh, a little too sharp, too forced to come off as natural in response. “Yeah, well, guess I missed my obedience training or whatever.”

K.J.'s smirk turns dangerously wicked, "I mean, we can do some training after dinner," as he waggles his eyebrows, while Frank looks between them, mumbling something about needing to check the barbecue before disappearing toward the kitchen.

K.J. doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. He steps closer, eyes flicking down Zach’s clothes with that familiar smirk. “Umm, but maybe get changed first, yeah? ‘Cause that is not a look I wanna be seen with.”

Zach huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, sounds good; I'll grab a shower and put something on-"

"Nothing too slutty through, you get me, like I wanna be proud, not embarrassed." 

“Oh?” Zach says, “Ummm, okay? Didn’t realise I was your Barbie doll…”

K.J. laughs, “Really, Barbie? Not Ken?”

“Meh, they’re, like, the same. You know what I mean, no?” 

“Just sayin’ that gym singlet you wear, a lil revealing even for a singlet, you feel me? Like, what's the point of a singlet if I can see your nipples?”

“Right, well, it’s not like I was going to wear it to a restaurant, although I could totally pull it off if I wanted to, and second, I like that singlet, so…” Zach shrugs.

“Okay, but am I meant to be deep in conversation with you, or deep in you? Like, what do you want people to think of you, baby? I’m just thinking of you.” 

“Hmmm, cheers, but I don’t think my singlet makes me less, ya know?” 

“The joys of being unburdened by shame or dignity,” K.J. teases. 

Zach rolls his eyes, and lightly taps K.J.'s shoulder, "You're such an asshole, ya know that right?"

K.J. gives a playful wink, clearly thinking he’s being charming. “That’s me.” 

Zach pushes off the wall, heading down the hall toward his room. He catches Cassidy’s reflection in the hallway mirror, leaning in the doorway of his room, arms crossed, expression somewhere between exasperated and protective big brother. Which is a little over the top. Zach can deal with his own shit. 

Well, apart from torching his friendships. 

Cassidy’s eyebrow arches. “You good, bro?”

Zach gives a noncommittal grunt, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, man. Totz fine. Just… gonna shower off the cringe from spending all afternoon on the bathroom floor.” He lifts his right arm and gives an exaggerated sniff of his armpit, "Yeah, it should be, like, legal to smell like this, bro."  

Cassidy hums, unimpressed. “Right. Have you thought about showering off the giant red flag?"

Zach snorts, shoving past him. “You’re so dramatic.”

Cassidy watches him go, muttering to himself, “Yeah, and you’re so blind.”

**

Zach's standing under the hot water of the shower, winning arguments in his head when the bathroom door opens and he snaps back to reality, turning around so quickly he almost slips and falls. 

K.J. is standing there, snickering, phone in hand. Zach's suspicions are confirmed when his phone, sitting on the bathroom sink, beeps with a Snapchat notification.

"Serious, babe... please tell me you only sent that to me."

"Ah, mostly - don't worry about it," K.J. answers with a grin, “Honestly, what’s taking you so long in here anyway? I’ve been waiting for, like, twenty minutes….”

Zach doesn’t answer right away. He just leans against the tiled wall, staring through the fogged glass in K.J.’s general direction. His brain feels like it’s buffering. “Jeez,” he mutters finally, “I’m just… ya know, it's been kinda rough 24, bro-baby, I mean baby.”

K.J. steps further in, kicking the door shut behind him. “Well, hurry up, ‘cause I’m starving-” K.J. then goes silent for a moment before he peels off his denim jacket and lets it drop to the bathroom floor, followed by his beanie. Then he starts tugging his T-shirt over his head, that seductive smirk sliding into place. “Actually, you know what? I’ll just join you-”

“Whoa.” Zach holds up a wet hand, voice coming out sharper than he means. “N’awww, babe. Please. Just no.”

That throws K.J. off. He freezes mid-motion, shirt halfway up, confusion flickering across his face before offence settles in. “...What do you mean no?”

"No. As in N O, as in nope. I dunno how to be, like, any clearer. Legit, what it says on the can. I'm just not in the mood for-"

K.J.’s brows shoot up. “Okay, ouch? Since when do you not wanna shower with me? Oh, wait, is this because of the dead girl? Because honestly, gotta let that go. She's dead, ain't no amount of moping gonna bring her back... on the other hand, your very alive boyfriend needs attention right now."

It takes two to three business days for Zach to allow himself to realise that K.J. did just say that. No amount of mental jumping can make that sentence right, or funny. 

Zach stands up in the shower, "Are you serious? Fuck me-"

"Well, I'm trying." K.J. grins.

"Oh, no. You asshole, a girl died in my arms, I blew up my friendship with Tommy, Lucy and Buck for you!!! A dog bit my fucking hand, I have, like, a hundred new fucking tickets, and you want me to, what? Let you fuck me in the shower? Are you serious? Are you fucking serious?"

K.J. crosses his arms, dripping ego and aftershave. “So, what, I’m the problem now?”

Zach runs his hands through his wet hair before turning in the enclosed space, between the steam of the shower and his mood the temperature in the glass shower starts to rise "That? That's what you took away from what I said?"

“Yes, it kinda is ,baby,” K.J. fires back, voice rising slightly. “See, let me explain it down for you, I drove all the way over here to see you, try to cheer you up, offer dinner, flirt a little, and now I’m getting shut out of a shower? That’s wild, man.”

Zach’s shoulders drop. “You think this is about you?”

“Well,” K.J. gestures between them, “you said no to me, so, yeah, kinda feels personal.”

Zach can’t help it, he laughs. A short, broken laugh that borders on hysterical. “Oh my god. K.J., baby, I hate to break it to you, but everything isn’t about you, babe.” with mocking emphasis on the 'babe'.

K.J.’s jaw tightens, his eyes go dark as his voice becomes cold “Yeah? Well, you sure act like everything’s about you lately. Whole firehouse drama, all that guilt crap; like, maybe I’m just tired of being the emotional punching bag because you can't sort your shit out.”

Zach shakes his head before flinging open the shower door, "You're the punching bag? You wanna know who was the actual punching bag? Tommy was, Lucy was, because they actually care. Fuck, why would I choose to defend you, of all fucking people?" 

"Fuck this, and fuck you." K.J. spits in his face, "You're a fucking useless asshole, and I hope that family sues the fire department for what you did to their daughter…” 

It takes an amazing amount of restraint for Zach not to punch him right there, his fist clenched by his side, his body trembling in the bathroom as K.J. grabs his jacket off the ground. 

“You know, you’re pathetic, right?” K.J. says, “Where the fuck do you belong? Not with me, not with your family, not with the L.A.F.D or whatever it’s called, you don’t belong anywhere, or with anyone….” He scoffs loudly, staring down at Zach, “You’ll come crawling back.”

Grabbing his towel, Zach stares him dead in the eyes, “I’d rather cut my eyes out with glass shards than call you baby ever again, bro.”

**

Cassidy knocks once before pushing the bathroom door open and groaning at the sight. “Dude, seriously? You’re still not dressed?”

Zach doesn’t even bother to look up at the intruder, as he leans back against the sink, one bare thigh pressed to the cold porcelain of the sink, his hair still damp and towel nowhere in sight. “Not to sound, like, depresso or anything but,like, what’s the point. I have no job, no best friend and no boyfriend, so…”

Sucking a deep breath in between his teeth, Cassidy shakes his head, “Ah, okay, right, like I get it… but you still need to wear clothes, okay, at least for me and also, you’re on a three day stand down and then you have your job back. I’m, like, 99% sure that you can say sorry and Tommy will forgive you for your crimes, and as for your boyfriend, honestly, ya better off.”

Silence fills the bathroom for too long given it’s Zach, so Cassidy claps his hands together, “Right, sad sack, get dressed, we’re gonna hit the town and get white girl wasted. You can even dress slutty if you like, I won’t judge.” then after a pause, and a very deliberate look, Cassidy adds “Just, please get dressed, I can not keep staring at your dick with a straight face.”

Zach laughs, thankfully reaching for the discarded towel, “Do I dress slutty, like, actual?”

It’s a good question, “Well, to be fair, when I think slutty, I think like chicks in mini mini skirts, you feel me, like in those tight little crop tops with the titties basically popping out, and bright red lipstick, wait, what was the question?”

Zach whacks his shoulder, “Lets go.”

“Uhhh, you are gonna get dressed first right?”

**

Half an hour later, Zach checks his hair in the mirror, black shirt on, silver chain around his neck, with black ripped jeans on. “Yo, team, Zach attack is back.”

“Really?” Cassidy asks, “Are you sure?”

“Dude, the facade is, like, this thin.” Zach replies, making the tiniest gap between his fingers, “So, no questions, okay, just roll with it.”

**

Zach leans hard against the back of the booth, poking Cassidy’s shoulder like it’s the only way to stay upright or make a point stick. “Dude… guys suck so much,” he says, dragging the words out like they weigh ten pounds each. “Like, not even in the fun way. Just straight-up trash-tier. Hashtag: fuck them.”

Cassidy doesn’t react beyond taking another slow swig of his Jack, ice clinking lazily in the glass as he drinks like someone who’s spent too much time around heartbreak to be surprised by it anymore. “You could always bang a chick again,” he says, matter-of-fact, like it’s a normal suggestion.

Zach groans, slumping further down the booth like gravity’s given up on him but his emotions haven’t. “Chicks hate us,” he mutters, waving his empty bottle vaguely in the air. “Because we suck. They’ve seen through the bullshit. They know the truth.” He puts the bottle back down on the table with a thud “The truth, my man.”

Cassidy shrugs like that checks out. “Fair. Still… There's gotta be someone in here who’s drunk enough. Or desperate. Or, I dunno, got unresolved issues with their dad and something to prove.”

Zach doesn’t respond. He just keeps turning the bottle in his hands, watching it like it might offer some cosmic answer if he stares hard enough. “Everybody sucks,” he says finally, low and tired. “Genuinely, fuck the world. Burn it all.”

They sit in the noise and neon of the bar, the silence between them stretched thin, until Zach lifts his head with sudden, sloppy purpose. “Wait… you know who doesn’t suck?”

Cassidy doesn’t miss a beat. “Sofia Vergara.” he may or may not drool as he says it. 

Zach pauses mid-thought, almost derailed. “I was gonna say Tommy, but… what?”

“Sofia Vergara,” Cassidy says again, now with full conviction. “She played Gloria on that show. You know, the one with all the gays. Modern Families or whatever. She’s insanely hot. Plus, the accent. She could absolutely wreck me and I’d thank her.”

Zach stares for a second, then slowly nods like he’s re-evaluating everything. “Alright. Yeah. She’s hot, like, super hot….I would motorboat her, respectfully of course”

“Of course, respecting women, very 2025, we love it.” Cassidy agrees. “Honestly, respecting women and blowing dudes, you’re like, the poster boy for the future.”

“Cheers man.” Zach replies

Cassidy laughs and leans back in the booth, giving Zach a sideways glance that’s more curious than teasing now. “So, real talk… do you love Tommy? Like, capital-L Love. Are we talking 'run through the airport' shit? You gonna throw hands with that Buck guy and fight for his honor or what? Because I’m, like, 90% sure there’s no ring on his finger, so technically the race is still on.”

Zach drags a hand through his hair, exhales because Cassidy is straight up missing the point. “I mean… yeah, kinda. But not in a bang-him-into-the-mattress kinda way. Well. Okay, maybe a tiny bit of that, ‘cause the man is seriously giving daddy vibes. Like, imagine the cop uniform. Badge. Nightstick. Full roleplay fantasy.”

Cassidy immediately throws a napkin at him. “No. Stop. I’m trying to live my best whiskey life and now I’m picturing Tommy in leather. You’re ruining my night, man, like I don’t need my dreams haunted by that image.” 

“Huh, it’s not that haunting to me, but for real, he’s more, like, how I pictured an older brother would be, rather than my actual, half older-bro’s, ya know. Although, between the two of us, the first time he told me off, I might have had a weird bdsm dream about him, which was super weird and kinda….” Zach clears his throat, “But anyway, that’s besides the point. I low key want what Buck and Tommy have, not have what Buck has, like, ya get it?”

Cassidy’s gaze is unfocused, “Dude, I’m gonna have to fuck so many chicks to get the image of Tommy in leather out of my mind, gross.” 

“I should call him.” Zach decides.

“About the leather?”

“What, no, not about the leather… to, like, I dunno, damn I actually dunno. Fuck man, he was right, about everything. That’s unfair.”

Scrolling through his phone contacts, his finger hovers over the name ‘Tommy’ and between nerves and stupidity, Zach forgets that Tommy is a chick in West L.A with pierced nipples, and Tommy is actually, ‘T-bone’.

The call gets forwarded to voice mail, because female Tommy doesn’t have time for Zach but it doesn’t catch Zach’s attention because he assumed Tommy would send him to voicemail anyway.

“Tommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmy” Zach slurs down the line, “I am so,so,so,sooooooo sorry - for, uh, everything. Actually everything, it turns out you were right, of course and, it does kinda piss me off but it’s on me for not listening to the smartest person I know. Huh, I dunno what else to say - oh, wait, can you please, like, forgive me, even a little bit? I dunno if that’s, like, even possible or not, but-but… I didn’t mean to be an asshole, for real. Anyway, uh, if you want, can you hit me up after this? I’ll do anything to make it work.”

**

About nine am the next morning, and the Uber drops a half dead Cassidy and Zach back at the apartment. Now, Zach is messed up, and just wants to collapse into his bed and go to sleep but as he looks around the street, something is - off?

“Dude.” Cassidy stumbles next to him, crashing into his side, “Dude, where the fuck is your car?”

That’s what's wrong with the street, Rexie, who was parked on the side of the street is gone.

It’s Maddie who answers the 9-1-1 call, “9-1-1 What’s your emergency."

“Yo, my baby girl has been taken.” 

Five minutes later, and one seriously annoyed Maddie, who was getting multiple police officers ready to search for a missing HUMAN baby, and Zach has his answer. The City has stolen his baby all because of one (or four) unpaid parking tickets. 

He hangs up the phone, head killing him, as a ghost from the past turns up in a seductive black dress that does not hide the nipple piercings. Tommy. Like, lady Tommy, not Daddy-T. 

"Zach, baby, so good to hear from you," she purrs, stroking his face with a pointy ink black nail as he pulls away.

“Hold up chicky, like, whatcha talking about?”

“Umm, your very sweet voicemail you left me, I was surprised to get it, but I’m willing to let it go.”

“Oh shit, fucking fuck crackers.” Zach curses, and Tommy eyes him, puzzled.

“Oh, you better explain that reaction, like right now.”

“Wrong Tommy. Uh, sorry, but, like, you legit weren’t meant to get that message, like, we banged, a couple of times, and I love those nipple piercings, but, like, I wasn’t trying to say sorry to you - besides, what did I even do to you?”

The slap stings, and the yelling that follows hurts his pounding head before Tommy storms back to whatever hellhole she came from as Cassidy watches on.

“Dude, no lie, you should try thinking before you open your mouth.”

And like that, Zach now has no job, no best friend, no boyfriend and no car. 

**

Luckily this exchange between Buck and Maddie happened before Zach freaked Maddie out over a towed WRX:

“Uh, I just don’t get why Tommy is open to talking to him, after what he did.” Buck says, frustration pouring over him. Tommy should stand up for himself and say enough is enough. 

Maddie smiles, like she does before she’s gonna say something wise that he doesn’t want to hear.

“Well, I know this big, brave firefighter that once felt so sidelined that he sued his own fire station, but guess what? It took time, and a lot of talking, and a lot of open mindedness, but the station healed and they’re now a family again.”

Buck points at Maddie, “That-that is not the same.”

“No, Zach didn’t drag Tommy in front of a lawyer.” She says with a grin, “Look, maybe you’re right, maybe Zach needs to be kicked out of Tommy’s life, but also, it’s a close friendship - if it can be saved, isn’t it better for everyone? And shouldn’t we all be a little more understanding of each other? How painful was your first loss? Both on the job and relationship wise?”

With a grumble, Buck agrees to try and be the bigger person. 

Chapter Text

Earlier the previous night, while Zach and Cassidy were getting wasted at a club across L.A. Buck pulls up outside Tommy’s house in his Jeep. Maddie’s words are still in his head, circling around. Look, Buck knows that sometimes he gets a tad emotional, letting his feelings cloud his judgement - such as when Eddie was trying to sublet his house, or when he lost his job, or - well, you get the picture. 

So, he takes a deep breath before walking into the house, and greeting Tommy who is busy doing something in the lounge. 

Busy doing something is the key word, because what is Tommy doing? It feels like he’s very busy doing not a lot, to be honest. 

“Evan to Pilot Kinard, come in, Kinard?” Buck teases lightly as he enters the lounge, “Uh, has all radio communication been lost?” 

Tommy stills before he puts down a book on the coffee table. “Sorry, Evan, just been tidying.” and then Tommy’s standing awkwardly in his own lounge, running a hand through his hair.

“Uh, w-what’s wrong, you can tell me, your concerns are my concerns.” Buck says earnestly, parroting the same words from Josh’s big (and weird) speech about Tommy (or Glee, Buck wasn’t sure if Josh was getting paid for marketing the show).

There is a sigh that could knock a L.A.F.D helicopter out of the sky, which is concerning to Buck - he prefers a very different sigh coming from Tommy, more like a moan.

“Ummm, look, Evan, please don’t be mad but I kinda wanna call him,”

Out of context, Buck muses to himself, hearing your boyfriend tell you that he wants to call another man would probably make the odd boyfriend mad. In context, given he was talking about a loud-mouth, ill-behaved probie from Harbor, it should make Buck mad too.

However, with every part of him screaming to say the opposite, Buck summons every last part of maturity he has, “Ah, yeah well, I think you should, uh, call Zach. This whole debacle has been going on long enough, I think it would be, uh, you know, good for you two to have a proper talk… no yelling, no abuse, just two adults.”

Tommy looks as shocked by his answer as he feels giving it, but he’s also shocked by the fact that he means it. 

So Tommy sits on the couch, and holds his phone in his hands while Buck joins him, “Ahhh, it’s just, what if-”

“‘What if’ will ruin your life, it’s better to know ‘What is’” Buck interjects, “Honestly, the longer you sit around in that big head of yours worrying, the worse it’s gonna be, so just, you know… call him.”

“Mhmm, you know, it’s late.”

“Uh-huh, sure, and you know it’s Zach? He’ll be awake, call him.”

Running out of excuses, Tommy dialled Zach’s number. Now, as the universe goes, this was indeed bad timing because exactly thirty seconds earlier, in the club, Zach had called Lady Tommy by mistake, then dropped his phone. 

So Tommy went to voicemail. 

As drunk Zach grabbed his phone up off the floor, he stared at it in confusion for a second, before passing it to an equally drunk and stupid Cassidy, “Dude, it says one missed call from T-Bone”

Now logic would dictate that one missed call from T-Bone would mean that Zach had, in fact, missed the call from Tommy, rather than the other way around, but logic is long gone at this stage of the night as Zach clears the notification. 

Cassidy nods at the screen as Zach continues, “Weird, right, like, I know T-Bone missed the call, I, like, left a voicemail and everything, bro… fucking piece of shit phone.”

“Phones are fucked up.” Cassidy, in his drunken state, agrees wholeheartedly, “We should….” He trails off instead of answering the question.

“Wait- we should what?” Zach asks, but whatever thought Cassidy had is long gone, lost to the world.

Cassidy's face lights up, “Order more drinks, dude!” 

**

Back in the present day, Zach stumbles into the apartment. His car has been stolen by the city of L.A., and, typical, the L.A.P.D. isn’t going to do anything about it.

All because of a couple of unpaid parking tickets.

Who pays parking tickets? 

He crashes onto the couch. This is something future, sober Zach can deal with.

It’s probably unfair, but drunk Zach has been leaving sober Zach messes to deal with for years now - and actually, to be fair, if sober Zach hadn’t fucked everything up, then drunk Zach wouldn’t be here right now, falling asleep on a messy couch under a stolen McDonald's ‘M’.

So really, sober Zach deserves all the incoming headaches.  

Drunk Zach would never have told Tommy he was a coward or pathetic. Drunk Zach loves Tommy. Tommy is the most amazing, gentle, patient man he’s ever met, apart from the cold shower stunt. 

As drunk Zach falls asleep, he pats himself on the back because, at least, he fixed the Tommy situation. That voicemail will heal the rift, right?

Oh, wait, hold up, that voicemail went to the wrong Tommy, drunk Zach remembers.

Ah, fuck it, sober Zach can clean up his own messes, Zach decides, before he leans over the side of the couch and vomits. Oh, he can clean that up, too. 

**

As Tommy gets ready for work, and Zach sleeps away his hangover, Rebecca sits in the campaign office for Elect Howard when the phone rings.

“Good morning, thank you for calling the Elect Howard campaign hotline. How may I direct your query? Are you interested in making a small donation to the campaign, or are you interested in the voter issues close to Mr Howard's heart?”

The male voice replies, “Ah, I believe Mr Howard is a strong family man? With good old conservative values?” 

With the phone on mute, Rebecca rubs her head because she thinks she can tell where this is going: another whackjob, the joys of politics. 

“Yes, he sure is. Mr Howard makes no apologies for his firm belief in traditional, American family values.” Rebecca parroted down the phone, straight from the script. “American families unpin our countries-”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds lovely, sweetheart, but I believe Mr Howard has a half-son? Out of wedlock?”

This job barely paid enough for Rebecca’s sanity. There was of course, a script for questions about Zach - and Mr G.J Howard honestly believed that he could parrot family values over the lesser mortals despite all his (still on-going) affairs because he was rich, and white. 

“Ah yes, thank you for your interest in the Howard Family, all of the Howard’s are fully behind Mr Howard election, and his half-son is a proud member of the L.A. community, like the rest of his public focused family. Mr Howard half-son is in fact an Fire Fighter with the L.A.F.D. A respected and trusted position in the community.” 

There’s the sound of the man’s tongue clicking before the voice returns. “Ahh, I see, I see, and uh, is there someone I could talk to about what this respected and trusted pillar of the community does in his spare time, with other men, on video? And, uh, how much it’ll cost to keep the video from making it to TMZ or CNN?”

Sometimes Political Scandal is too good, Rebecca thinks to herself, as the caller, known only as Kevin describes in great detail the video before she transfers him to the head of the campaign. 

If only she hadn’t signed that NDA.

**

Cleaning up his own messes was Zach least favorite chore, but after dragging himself off the couch, wiping up the spew from the side of the couch and the floor (why, oh why had he not at least found a bucket?) before dying in the shower. 

But now, freshened up, complete with hair gel and a fresh shave and armed with a blue powerade, Zach started the long, but peaceful trek to the impound yard. 

But first, a kebab, with extra hot sauce, to help with the headache. 

**

Armed with a kebab, Zach made his way down the streets of L.A to rescue Rexie from her wrongful imprisonment at the hands of the wannabes at whoever controlled the people who issued tickets for parking vehicles. 

Honestly, as long as there wasn’t, like, a fire hydrant or a railway crossing, then what was the harm in parking somewhere for a second anyway? 

Arriving at the impound lot is just sad, all those cars parked away behind the metal gate, and Zach swears to a god he doesn’t believe in that if anyone has scratched Rexie, he will hurt them. 

The office looks dated and run down from the outside, and it does not get any better inside, with its hideous blue walls and a hole in the window where a grumpy-looking dude sits on his fat ass. 

The walls are littered with ‘public notices’ and old photos of the impound yard over the course of history, and Zach has never been a fan of history, or history books, but even less so when it’s about impounding cars. 

Like, who would even care? 

Stupid—Zach leaned in to read the small logo on the public notice: LADOT. What the fuck is DOT? 

Oh. Department of Transportation, duh, of course Zach knew that. 

Now, one of the first pieces of advice Tommy ever gave Zach (not that it had been his intention at the time to become some sort of mentor) was, whatever you do, do not click your fingers at someone when you want to be served. 

In that case, it was the poor bartender, but the rule applied to almost everyone in a customer-facing role.

Still.

Clicking his fingers at the slob behind the counter, Zach rolls his eyes, complete with a huff, “Anytime, sweetheart, some of us have lives, ya know?”

Naturally, that did not impress the impound yard guy. “Sir, if you could please wait a minute-”

“Bro, I have been waiting for you to get off pornhub for the last ten minutes, for real, so a lil less drooling over titties and a lil more helping me get my car back, cool?”

The man stood up and pulled down a shutter as Zach ground his teeth together in frustration: useless prick. Honestly, all goverment workers were the same. 

A couple of minutes later, the roller opens, and the same annoying man dares to smile at him through the little hole in the wall. “Thank you for waiting, sir,” the man says, all fake politeness. “Do you have your license, plate number, and proof of ownership?”

“About fucking time, ya fat bastard.” Zach mutters, under his breath but definitely loud enough for him to hear with his best fake smile, “Here we go, bro,” as he flings the paperwork at the man.

The impound guy looks over Zach’s license, thumbing the edge, deep in thought “Howard? No relation to the real estate mogul?"

Zach sighs and considers lying for a second before grunting out a reluctant: “Yeah, man, he’s my old man.”

The impound guy doesn’t look up from his typing, but mutters under his breath, “typical spoiled rich boy.” As his fingers type against the keyboard, furiously and loudly, before he looks at Zach with a big, stupid grin, “Thank you, Sir, that will be $915, is that credit or cash?”

Zach almost faints from shock, “Whoa, I’m sorry, king, but how much did you just say?”

“$915.” 

“Wow, back the truck up, you straight up pinched my car off the side of the road last night, like, without permission or whatever-”

“Just to be clear, Sir,we don’t need permission, and if you had paid your-”

Yeah, yeah, Zach had heard that all before, as he cut over the asshole in front of him “And now, I’m sorry - now, you want me to pay $915, how the fuck is it $915? Like, that must be a scam, my man, because that’s straight up diabolical.”

The impound guy smirks as he leans back in his office chair, with far too much faith in it’s structural integrity for Zach’s liking, “Well, $300 impound fee,” he replies, before he does a little stretch and clicks his pen, “then there are the parking tickets”, which technically, he could give Zach 28 days to pay, but he’s not going to, “The admin fee, etc”

He leans forward, up against the window, grinning with pleasure “So, $915 please.”

$915 would kill his bank account, which is probably why Tommy and Lucy are always like, ‘You shouldn’t spend every dollar on alcohol, car parts and strip clubs.’

But ya know, saving money is so boring….

Yolo and all that shit old people say. 

And, like, this is honest to god the first time he’s ever had his car towed. 

But on the flip side, he does have…

It.

Black, and ridiculously heavy for a credit card. All self-important and overly flashy. Apart from golf lessons, the only thing dearest dad gave him willingly - and even then, it was more to minimise any unnecessary contact rather than fatherly love. 

Honestly, he would rather eat cup noodles than use it, live in a small, cramped apartment with three or four other dudes and live in overdraft, but there were times when it was called for - like Mister Thomas’s vet bill, or that Vegas strip club, but that was a one-off. 

So, despite feeling conflicted as fuck, he opens his wallet and pulls out the heavy, black card. He’s not proud of not being self-sufficient, but this is an emergency and all that jazz, plus his father is loaded and never attended a single school production, so whatever.

He hands it the black Amex, and the man looks up at him, and he can feel the judgment pouring out of him, and maybe the impound guy is right, maybe Zach is spoiled - after all, not everyone has access to daddy’s money, even if it’s just an emergency. 

“Declined,” The guy says with a smug grin, one that is only getting wider as he realises fully what he just said. This has probably made his day - no wait, week.

Feeling his face go red from shock and a little bit of confusion, Zach snaps back at the man. “Ahh, haha, very funny, wise guy. Umm, in case you're unfamiliar, that there is a black Amex; they don’t decline my man, so, like, swipe it again or something.” and he clicks his fingers at the guy and taps the counter. 

The impound guy swipes it again, and then again, and then again.

“Really, really declined,” the man chirps happily, “Maybe daddy’s used all his money getting elected?”

“Give it here.” Zach snaps, grabbing the offending card back and glares at it before considering his options. He would rather not ring Amex in front of the impound guy, who is having the time of his life, but also, standing outside in this area, talking to a credit card company about his black card is probably not the smartest thing he could do.

So, huddling in the corner of the small office, Zach calls Amex’s black Amex line, only to get told that the card has been blocked at the order of the account holder. 

If dear old dad wanted to teach him financial responsibility, he chose the wrong day to do it. 

So he calls his father, and the call gets redirected to fucking Linda Walters —because could today not get any fucking worse. 

“Zachary, what a pleasant surprise,” came Linda Walters’ voice, cool and mature with just enough warmth to make it sound condescending. “Actually, to be honest with you, I was expecting this call.”

Zach fakes a smile as he tries to stop the impound guy from listening in with glee. “So, in that case, would you happen to know why my black Amex isn’t working?”

“Certainly, because you don’t have one anymore, ah, this phone call is good timing, it saves me the call. Your father wants to see you, actually, so if it’s not too stressful for you, if you could make your way to the Howard Building by 14:00 that would be great.”

Feeling dumbstruck, Zach rests one hand on the blue, hideous wall of the impound lot to prevent himself from falling over. “Hold on, hold on, like, wh-what-”

“Sadly, I can’t tell you over the phone, and even sadder is I won’t get to be in the meeting to see your reaction, but Zach, of all the stupid things you’ve done, this takes the cake. Thank you for handing this to your father on a silver platter. Lovely chatting with you, see you real soon.”

**

One short Uber ride, one iced caramel coffee and one almost phone call to Tommy for advice he has no right asking for (which is why he pockets his phone instead of burdening Tommy with his existence), and Zach stands outside the Howard Building. 

With a cheery smile, he waltzes in and sees Terrance, the old security guard, who is still shamelessly flirting with Vanessa, the old ass admin lady, after all these years. His father rewards loyalty, so even though Vanessa is not attractive enough to be on the front desk, next to the three very beautiful blondes with massive tits, she stays on as admin manager. 

“Terry! Van! Yo, how’s the ol’ A team holding up?” 

Terrance waves him over, and they chat for ten minutes about nothing, and it’s light and fluffy and feels nice, given Zach knows he’s walking into something.

As he heads towards the elevator, Vanessa grabs him by the arm, “Zach, your father would have me out on the street if he knew I was asking this, but do you know what’s going on?”

“Around here? Van? Never.” Zach jokes, trying to keep it light, but he’s pretty sure he’s sweating. “See that temp over there, I’m lower down on the food chain than him when it comes to father.”

“You have a horrible ex.” She says, “I think his-”

Zach freezes, and Vanessa's voice fades into the background. K.J. must have ratted him out to his dad as bi. He takes a deep breath, as Vanessa taps his shoulder, jolting him back “Anyway, you know how Mr Howard is about, well, those matters.”

“Ahh, so he knows that I’m-”

“Bisexual, yes, he does, dear,” And the wind is knocked out of his chest, as she prattles on, “but look, it should have been made legal in the sixties, but after all that free love and drugs, we went kinda the other way for a long time.. Anyway, be proud and stand firm,” she adds, as she squeezes his bicep a little too tight.

Everything is fine; he was going to have to tell his old man one day anyway. Maybe K.J. did him a favour. Regardless, Zach’s desperate not to lose his collected image, so he attempts to play the shock off with a joke. 

“Oh, well, I’m impressed you know the term bi, to be honest, lots of people just kinda dump it in with being, like, ya know, straight up gay.”

Vanessa shivers at a memory, “Well, I still clearly remember you with the receptionist…”

“Which one?” Zach asks, chewing on his bottom lip, as he drags his mind back through time, not to sound like a fuck boy, but there were a few—Amber, or was it Amelia? And then Crystal… and, well… the rest. But honestly, what was the point in being the good-looking son of a rich prick with hot, young receptionists if not to bang them in the printer room?

“Exactly, and no gay man eats pussy like that,” Vanessa says so bluntly. It makes Zach blush, which is saying something, but frankly, no old lady should say such things. Like, she should be classy. 

Also, it confirms that Vanessa saw a lot more than she let on all those years ago. 

“But, more power to you, it’s 2025 and if you want to be bent over as well, who’s to stop you?”

There is nothing Zach would like more than for this conversation to end, so he fist-bumps the old lady, gives her a charming smile, and thanks her for her support and whatnot before making his way over to the lift.

She gives him a surprising firm smack on the ass as he leaves. 

The lift ride up to the top floor takes no time, but also the longest time in the world as he plots out his speech. It’s 2025, not 1975, or even 1957, and if Zach wants to be bi, then that’s fine. It doesn’t make him any less or weaker—he’s still (currently suspended) a firefighter. 

The problem is that, as he gets out of the lift and makes his way to the Howard Room, is that he’s still operating with half the knowledge. There’s a key fact that’s missing. 

He can see them, and it feels like a Hollywood drama — like Yellowstone or something — in the glass room, sitting around a big table, a large TV screen hanging from the wall, which, unfortunately, will play a key role very soon.

Walking into the room, he tries to keep his face light as everyone looks so god damn serious. His father is at the head of the table, next to him his stepmother, Barbara. Then, the oldest and most successful, Preston, followed by Alexander, Nathaniel, and an empty seat.

Zach goes to sit, but his father puts up a hand to stop him. When you're this rich and powerful, you don’t need words. So instead, he hovers awkwardly at the end of the table as the rest of the family look everywhere but him.

Jeez, being bi isn’t infectious. 

At least he’s pretty sure he didn’t catch it off Tommy, Buck or Lucy - they simply created a safer space to come to terms with it. 

After all, he’s pretty sure, if he was overly honest with himself, he knew as soon as he saw that lifeguard when he was 16 but it was much easier to hide behind ‘bros being bro’ and ‘it’s not gay if you say no homo’

“Only family sits at this table; you will stand while I address you.” 

Zach exhales slowly, like he’s trying not to laugh. “Right, sure thing, sir,” he says, that lazy smirk never leaving his face. “So, remind me, what crime did I commit this time that magically absolved you of your 50% share of my DNA? ‘Cause last I checked, that’s not exactly something you can sell off to the highest bidder, father dearest.”

He leans forward across the polished wood table, snagging a mint from the small crystal dish in the center. He unwraps it deliberately, pops it in his mouth, and then adds with mock cheer: “Oh, and while we’re talking stock portfolios, how are the shares in Zach Attack Incorporated doing on the ol’ DOW this morning?”

Nathaniel, the middle trio of the ‘blood three’ expression changes to a deeply unimpressed scowl, “Do you even know what the Dow is?”

“Duh,” Zach scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s, like, the economy or whatever, where, like,  you buy things, trade things, make rich people richer, and then sometimes it all goes down and everyone cries about it on Twitter like it’s never ever happened before… pretty sure it’s meant to trickle down or something?”

“X,” Nathaniel corrects coldly. “It’s called X now.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Zach drawls, “forgot the billionaire ego rebrand. My bad.”

“If you two are quite done making a spectacle out of this emergency family meeting, can I have your full attention?” Mr Howard states. 

With a click of the button, the smart glass that surrounds the room goes from clear to opaque, and it’s impressive as Zach looks up as he chews his stolen mint. Fuck, you can do anything with technology these days. 

It would be a funny prank to pull on someone: like, put a changing room sign and then they’re mid-change, push the button and make them visible to the world around them. 

His father's voice continues in the background: 

“Explain this.” His father says coolly as he clicks another button, and before Zach has a chance to make another joke or say something silly, he freezes and almost faints as the video plays on the screen in front of everyone.

“Verified, by the way, by my tech team.” His father continues, “Not A.I., not photoshopped or edited, apparently this is what my useless half blood waste of space son has been up to.”

Betrayal hits deep because of everything, anything K.J. could have done to him; this is actually the worst.

He promised that the video would be deleted. 

And now it's playing out in front of his family, and no, Zach’s never been close close to them, and yes, Zach’s enjoyed winding them up or causing drama, but this - this burns at his soul because he never wanted to do it in the first place. 

And now he’s on a fucking T.V screen in front of everyone. 

And it just keeps going. 

“Uh, stop, stop playing it, Jesus fucking Christ.” Zach pleads, no begs, hiding his face as he feels his face burning. He’s pretty sure he’s going to die from sheer embarrassment. 

“Oh, but you’re the star of the show,” his father sneers. “Why so shy? You certainly weren’t in the video. Do you have any idea how much I had to pay to keep this off the internet? How many calls my legal team had to make to ensure this never sees daylight? Because can you imagine if this got on TMZ, or CNN, or that bloody Preezy Hilton or whatever he’s called, I would be ruined. My campaign would be up in smoke because my son is a sad, pathetic faggot.”

He can never look any of these people in the face again, Zach realises as his throat burns with humiliation. “Dad- please...”

“It’s Mr. Howard to you,” his father snaps, pointing at him, and Zach is almost worried he might have a heart attack. “You lost the right to call me that the moment you decided to become a punchline.”

His father brings his hand to his face in shame, “It’s bad enough you’re a faggot, really, but this - what did I ever do to deserve this?”

If Zach’s stomach wasn’t currently full of concrete right now, and if his head wasn’t light, he might point out that buying a tower block, evicting all the tenants and turning it into luxury suites might be one thing that annoyed god - or buying a beachside property and banning public access? Demolishing a volunteer animal shelter? 

Abusing the help and then paying to cover it up? 

But right now, he’s choking on his own embarrassment, played out in real time, in front of everyone who already judged him. 

Preston, the oldest, looks at Zach, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he’s the only one whose face isn’t screwed up in a disgusted scowl, “Father, you’ve made your point.”

Mercifully, their father listens to Preston, rare but not unheard of. 

The silence that follows is deafening, and Zach can feel all the stares burning into him. He can’t even look around the room, and it’s taking all his inner strength not to collapse. 

His father breaks the awkward silence, but it’s almost worse “I don’t know where I went wrong with you, perhaps I was pushing shit up hill. You couldn’t even pass high school for pete’s sake, but still, I managed to get you into University - where you didn’t even have to do anything, just turn up, and I could of gotten you some patsy degree and you could of taken a role up here, we would of found you a nice wife to play pretend with and my team of lawyers could of drafted up N.D.A’s for every dirty, immoral desire you had, but no-”

“I didn’t want that,” Zach says, trying to push down the shame because this is worse than he had pictured. “I wanted-”

A real purpose? Real people? To get drunk and travel around Bali? To fuck up his life? 

“But you wanted this?” His father roars, slamming his hand against the table. “You wanted to drag this family’s name into the gutter? You wanted to humiliate me in front of every shareholder, every partner who knows damn well that’s my son is into that filth?”

Zach’s breath shakes. “Look, listen right? I’m not, that was just, it wasn’t meant to… it was a one-off mistake, I promise.”

He’s not sure what or why he’s promising; to be fair, he’s not even sure how to damage control this. He never felt part of this world, this family, but at the same time, it was still his, and now it was slipping out of his hands.

Twice a year (Thanksgiving and Christmas) he had something, even if he didn’t fit in, even if it was fleeting and now it was sinking too. 

If he had Tommy still, maybe it would be easier; he could crash at Tommy’s place and vent about terrible families (he can tell Tommy has a shit father too, he’s very good at picking up on the vibes), and Tommy would have some stupid sage advice, and the world wouldn’t seem so fucked up.

Cassidy was a solid mate, probably the solidest, but he couldn’t fix this. He feels sick for the hundredth time today, and so stupid for ever giving in to K.J.’s request. He’s such an idiot. 

Alexander scoffs openly. “Oh, come on, Zachary. You’ve practically been a walking scandal since puberty, beforehand, if we’re honest. I’m a little taken aback by the fact it’s taken you 25 years on this earth to screw up as royally as you have.”

Preston gives Alexander a glare before sitting forward slightly, but before he can say something, Father speaks. 

“Quiet,” Mr Howard orders without looking at them, with his steely gaze locked on Zach. “You were given every advantage. Every chance to be more than the trash your mother left behind. And you repay me with this?”

Going to speak, Zach is cut off.

“Your mother should have listened to me and got that abortion. We all would have been better off,”  before he adds, unnecessary in Zach’s opinion, because he’s well aware his mother died in childbirth, “She certainly would have been, giving her life for this.” 

The room goes silent again. Preston, to be fair, looks horrified, but the rest of the family just sort of quietly agrees, and look, Zach knows he’s a failure, but to hear those words, even if he suspected it, even if he knew fath-Mr Howard had offered to pay for one, cut.

“Leave, Mr Anderson, and don’t sully these walls again, and in return, I won’t make you pay back the $750,000.”

“Uh, is that what-”

“It cost to make this go away? No, it was more than that, but that came out of campaign costs, no, I’m talking about the $750,000 you scammed out of this family for your old dead Nanny. I spend a lot of money on my children, but you’re the only one that I don’t get a return on, at all. Now, get the hell out of my sight.”

Zach’s vision goes blurry, and his breathing goes shallow as he struggles to understand, “But-”

“But nothing, don’t you understand? You’ve been given chances most people would kill for. You’ve squandered every single one. You’ve embarrassed this family, jeopardised my reputation, and cost me millions. I am done.”

Zach’s voice cracks. “Dad, please-”

“Mr. Howard,” his father corrects coldly. “I am Mr. Howard to you now.”

He steps closer, his expression now unreadable, eyes like glass as he lives up to his ruthless reputation in the real estate business. “You’re not my son. You’re a liability. And in my world, Zachary, liabilities are removed.”

For a moment, Zach can’t move. He wants to yell, to break something, to do anything, but he can’t even breathe.

Preston looks away. Barbara sets down her glass. Alexander folds his arms. Nathaniel flinches when Mr Howard speaks again.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Their father says quietly. He doesn’t need to yell; everyone is listening to him. “Go, now.”

So, with his tail between his legs, Zach leaves.

**

“Zach!” Preston’s voice cuts through the noise in his head as he walks towards the elevator, “Wait a moment, would you?”

“Why?” and Zach hates the tone of his voice, how broken he sounds right now. 

“Look, father is upset, and to be frank, for very good reason, but give him some time to cool down, and then apologise to him, give up that silly little job at the fire department and come work here, it’s all he’s wanted, is his family keeping his empire alive. You can go from one of his biggest regrets to his biggest success if you pull your head in.”

Always so fucking perfect, Zach thinks to himself, and he is kind of jealous because Preston has always been the bright, ideal child. The heir to the empire. 

Even worse, of his three half-brothers, Preston has always been the least snobby. 

“Preston, this isn’t me-”

“So? That doesn’t matter, Zach - some things are more important than who you are. Family, for example.”

But still very family-focused and idealistic. 

“You mean the family that just kicked me out?”

“Don’t play that game with me, please. Sort yourself out and give Father some time to forgive you. Don’t throw everything away, and for Pete’s sake, never let someone film you doing that ever again. Some desires should not be recorded.”

Zach hasn’t got the strength to explain that he didn’t want to do it in the first place, so he rolls his eyes and pushes the elevator button without saying anything. 

Preston sighs poshly (which, if you knew his family, is totally a thing), his expression pained as he stands there for a second. 

“Ya know, bro, you weren’t, like, half bad for an obnoxious older brother,” Zach says with a slight smile, and Preston returns the smile, even if only for a moment. 

“Well, you are the stereotypical younger brother, to the max. Honestly, I should be knighted for my endeavours with you.” 

Zach laughs, which threatens to turn into tears, so he steps into the elevator without saying anything. It’s not Preston's fault; he genuinely cares, he just can’t picture a world where you aren’t your father’s heir. 

Before the doors close, he needs a hug, but as he goes to hug Preston, his older brother holds out a hand to his chest, “Zach, Howard’s doesn’t hug.”

“But Anderson’s do.” Zach jokes back, shoving his hands in his pockets, standing in the doorway of the elevator, probably annoying some poor sap on a lower level. 

“Good luck.” Preston says, “If you want help cleaning up your image, let me know, you’ll always be my younger brother.”

“Half.” Zach corrects, and Preston cracks a joke;

“This isn’t that stupid Harry Potter book; there are no mugbloods and whatnot around here.”

It’s a bold-faced lie, but Zach doesn’t call it out because he appreciates the thought. 

So, the elevator doors slide shut behind him with a soft hiss, sealing him in. The polished brass walls reflect his pale, tear-streaked face back at him. Zach presses the button for the lobby and leans against the wall, his breathing still shallow. His father’s words echo in his head like gunfire: ‘Your mother should have listened to me and got that abortion. We all would have been better off.’

He rubs at his eyes, his chest tight, trying to hold back the tremor in his hands. When his vision clears, he catches a flicker of movement near his shoes — just a shadow at first, or so he thinks.

Then he looks down.

A small girl - no, the small girl- stands in the corner of the elevator, her face smudged with soot, her white dress torn and grey. Her hair clings to her forehead, damp with something that looks like ash and rain. 

Zach’s breath catches.  “Oh,” he says softly, bitterly. “It’s you again.”

The child tilts her head, eyes wide and old beyond her years. Her voice is light, almost sing-song,  “Why do you do it?”

Zach blinks away the tears, swallowing hard before he answers the non-existent child. “Do what?”

She takes a small step forward. “Let everyone down.”

Looking away from her, but seeing her reflection in the elevator mirrors, he pretends not to understand the question. “What are you talking about?”

“Me,” she says simply. “Tommy. Your family. Lucy. That dog. Preston”

The way she says it cuts him deeper than it should; it’s almost like she’s been keeping score. To be fair, he has. 

Zach opens his mouth to respond, but his throat burns. He’s not sure whether he’s angry, broken, or both.  “Hey, I didn’t-” he starts, but stops. Because how do you argue with a ghost? Or a hallucination that knows your sins better than you do?

The girl just stares, head slightly tilted, eyes full of a quiet disappointment that feels heavier than rage.

Then.

Ding.

The elevator jolts to a stop.

When the doors slide open, he’s no longer staring at her. The child is gone: no ash, no footprints, not even a shadow—just the lobby: bright, bustling, full of people moving past him like nothing’s wrong. 

Like the world hasn’t ended somewhere thirty floors above.

Zach takes a deep breath, centering himself as his heart is hammering, his chest tight. He wipes his eyes, takes one unsteady step forward, and forces himself to keep walking towards the exit.

He waves at Vanessa, who looks concerned but is thankfully busy in the middle of something, so can’t wander over to check on him. 

But as he crosses the marble floor, he catches a faint reflection in the polished surface of a nearby column, a small figure, soot-stained and watching him go.

Fuck this shit.

**

So, fine. 

It's tempting to go home and wallow in self-pity, but he’s not going to do that. He might not be a Howard anymore, but he’s still an Anderson and his mother never gave up. Maybe his father wishes he had been aborted, but his mother died to give him this life, and he’s not going to fuck around anymore.

Across his three accounts, he’s about $50 short if he lets them go into overdraft and deal with the late fees later. There has to be something at home he can sell for $50, or maybe the grumpy dude at the impound yard will give him a discount for a blowjob?

He’s pretty sure that fat bastard hasn’t had a blowjob in years, and to be fair, Zach would have blown someone to get his car back before he came out as bi, so….

Standards? Never heard of her. He’s bi, broke, and not particularly proud right now. 

Then his phone rings, and he wants to fling it into space, because who the fuck calls anyone these days? Can’t they tell he’s mid-breakdown? 

He snatches it up. “Yo, you got your boy Zach.”

“Ah, yes, hello, it’s Gwen from the animal shelter, is this a Mister Anderson, who dropped off a dog a few days ago?”

“Huh, well, yeah, it is, but why ya calling me?”

“Look, I have to be straight with you, Mister Anderson, our shelters are overcrowded and we can’t keep all these dogs, so we are going to put the dog down tomorrow if we can’t find-”

“Wait, hold up, ya calling me to say that you’re gonna, like, straight up murder that puppy?”

“Dog, and not murder but-”

The lady waffles on some excuse, and Zach’s only half listening because now Zach has a choice between getting back his pride and joy, Rexie, in one piece, or getting lumbered with a dog that bit him and has nowhere to house. 

“No, listen here, don’t touch a single hair on its matty little body, I’ll adopt it, I’ll be there in twenty.”

**

So, now Zach is $250 short of getting the car, on top of already being short $50, plus the adoption fee, the collar and leash, the flea treatment, etc.

He’s never getting Rexie back, which breaks his heart more than being betrayed by K.J. and disowned by his family because if nothing else, Rexie was a symbol of freedom. Even if she was an expensive symbol. 

And she was his. 

And he has a small Jack Russell terrier, which he’s not allowed in his apartment. 

But the dog is alive, and he’s alive, and he’ll sort things out. What’s that stupid saying, when one door closes something something? Something to do with opening another door, but that’s not how doors work.

Like, you can open and shut the same door many times - and he can have all four doors of his car shut at the same time. It would be weird, right, if when you closed one door on the car another one opened. 

It’s a stupid saying, but at least it distracted him for a good 2 minutes.

Maybe he should start an OnlyFans page after all? The only reason he hasn’t before is because of his job and his family, and now both are in the gutter so what has he got left? 

He calls the dog Staines, and if anyone asks, it is because it looks like someone spilt an ice coffee over his white fur and it's more original than ‘Patches’.

“Come on, Staines, this way,” he says, gently tugging the leg down the road.

**

Zach’s got Staines’s leash in one hand, a blue Powerade in the other, and the vague hope that he might end up feeling like less of a disaster. Spoiler alert: It’s not working. 

To be fair, the music he’s got blasting in his ears probably isn’t helping right now: Compromise by Arrows in Action, following on from The Shift by 10 Years. 

Meanwhile, the little Jack Russell is zigzagging across the cracked pavement like a furry pinball while Zach mutters, “Bro, pick a direction, please.” How is something so small so energetic? 

A beat-up red Mazda edges alongside, matching his pace.

Yeah, no. He’s not getting mugged, kidnapped, or murdered today, thank you very much. Not when he’s already emotionally bankrupt. He tugs his hoodie tighter, keeps his eyes on the ground, pretending the music makes him invisible, and he knows that objectively, it is the dumbest survival strategy, but pride is louder than logic.

Luckily though.

The car honks, and Zach looks over to see a large, friendly Spanish lady waving at him from the driver's seat of a beat-up red Mazda, “Mr Howard! Mr Howard.” 

“Emilia?”

“Mr Howard, it is so good to see you.” She calls out, pulling over and getting out of the car and squeezing the life out of him in a bear hug, which, honestly, is what he needs right now, so he just sinks into it. 

“And who is this wee little cutie?” she asks, crouching as soon as she spots Staines sniffing her shoes.

“Uh, Emilia, we’ve met before,” Zach teases. “It’s me, Zach? Six feet of dumb decisions?”

She smacks his arm. “Not you, you vain child! The dog! Also, not you, by the way.” she clarifies, as she gives back with a friendly smile, kneeling to pat Staines, and Zach almost has time to warn her that he might bite her when he jumps up to say hi, licking her face. 

No biting, that’s a plus.

“Uh, this here is Staines, my new dog.” Zach introduces, and for a dog that was afraid of everything the other night, he’s not shy now.

“Staines?” She asks curiously about the name as the Jack Russell bounces around her. 

“Ahh, yeah, well, the brown markings kinda look like stains on his clean white fur, right?” Zach laughs.

She laughs as well, and it really does feel good to laugh, until she asks what's new. Part of him knows he shouldn’t burden her with his shit, but he gives her a very small rundown of the reprocessed car, and the family fall out over his ex-boyfriend, minus any details about that video.

Emilia tuts softly, shaking her head. “Ay, my cachorro desordenado, my messy little puppy. We will fix this. Come in the car. Now.”

“Emilia, I literally just told ya, I can’t fix it till payday,” Zach explains as the dog pulls on the leash, bored with standing around. 

“Ahhh, Mister Howard, I do not have that issue.” She says simply, with a big smile, like it’s just a casual favour and not close to a grand. 

“Emilia, seriously, you don’t-” He tries to protest, but she won’t have it. 

“Shh. In the car, por favor. My sister would haunt me if I ignored her favourite boy and his scruffy puppy. Two lost puppies? No, no, no. This I cannot allow, can you imagine the karma?”

He chuckles, tugging gently on Staines’ leash. “You can’t just-”

“Do not tell me what I can and can not do; you are not my father. I can, and I will,” she insists, planting her hands on her hips. “I still have half a million in the bank because of you. I can spare you a thousand.”

“Emilia-”

“Ah-ah!” she cuts him off with a no-nonsense tone. “You are not too old to be spanked for arguing, mijo. Now come. Before I grow old waiting.”

He debates arguing, because it feels wrong to let her deal with it but on the other hand, maybe he should stop pushing good people away. 

Zach sighs, then grins. “You drive a hard bargain, Señora Santa Claus.”

“Sí, and you’re on the naughty list,” she shoots back with a wink.

**

Getting the car back turns out easier than he expected, and cheaper as well. Emilia instantly makes friends with the grumpy fat bastard behind the counter, and Zach apologises for being an asshole earlier (and he does sort of mean it, he was perhaps a little unreasonable). 

He gets an infringement notice with 28 days to pay the outstanding tickets, the grumpy man wipes the admin charges, and Emilia ends up paying $400 to get Rexie back, which technically Zach could afford, but Emilia won’t hear it. 

“Now,” She orders, grabbing him by his cheeks, “Go sort things out with your real family.”

“Emilia-” he says sadly, “-they were very clear-”

“Uh-uh-uh,” she tuts sharply, shaking her head. “No, no mijo, not the Howards. They are people with blood, not family. Blood only tells you who you came from; love tells you where you belong.”

Her tone gentles, her hand resting over his heart. “This one, corazón, knows the truth. You already have your family; the ones who feed you when you forget to eat, who listen when you talk nonsense, who worry when you don’t call.”

She pats his hair, has to rise on her tiptoes to do it, and then folds him into another hug. “You are lost right now, but not sunk,” she murmurs against his shoulder. “Remember that. A good man can drift, but he can always find the shore again.”

**

The engine cuts off with a cough, leaving Zach sitting in silence that feels heavier than it should. The cemetery is quiet this time of day—late afternoon, when the sun turns gold and the wind rustles through the old oaks. His Subaru sits crooked in the gravel lot, the metallic blue dulled by dust and neglect from the impound yard, the bright green calipers not so bright right now.

Staines barks once from the back seat, a small but sharp yap that echoes off the headstones. Zach glances through the mirror.

 “Yeah, yeah, I’m not gonna be long,” he mutters, though the dog doesn’t understand. Staines just stares back at him with those round eyes, tail thumping against a pile of old turnout gear on the back seat. “I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing here, lil homie.”

His biological father hates him and has all but disowned him.

His work father figure probably hates him, Zach’s too much of a coward to even try reaching out, in fact, he’s ignored like six calls from Tommy so far. 

His ex used a humiliating and degrading video of him to get rich. 

And the only reason he has his car back is because his old (dead) Nanny’s sister helped him out. 

He steps out, gravel crunching under his boots, and slams the car door a little too hard. 

Poor Rexie’s had a hard 24 hours. 

Staines whines at being left in the car, and Zach taps lightly on the window, “Lil homie, I legit can’t have you pissing on a tombstone, that would be , like, asking to be cursed or something for real.” 

He shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and trudges up the small hill, past neat rows of marble and weathered crosses.

The Subaru’s alarm chirps behind him; Staines barks again, muffled by the glass.

He doesn’t visit his mother’s grave - like, at all.

There are reasons—there are always reasons—but the truth is simpler and uglier: he isn’t afraid of disappointing his father. He’s terrified of disappointing her. The thought that his mother might hate him, like his father does, twists something in his gut.

Would she disown him, too?

At least at the moment, she’s like that cat (Schrodinger's cat), she both loves and hates Zach. He will never know the truth, but he also will never be abandoned by her, so chalk it up as a win.

He stops at the familiar grey stone, the name half-faded by years of rain. The grass is too long around it, and the small ceramic vase has cracked down one side. Talking to a dead person feels stupid. It’s not like she can hear him. She’s long gone.

He stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight, not sure what he’s even doing here. Maybe he should go.

“Oh, hey, you don’t come here often.”

The voice startles him. He turns, squinting toward the tree line. A woman stands there, half in shadow, sunlight catching her hair. She’s about his age, beautiful in a way that feels almost nostalgic.

He thinks it’s her eyes.

“Uh, well, no, I guess,” Zach admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not my kinda vibe, ya know, like, dead people.”

The lady wanders closer, her footsteps barely crunching the dry leaves. “Someone special?”

“Ahh, I suppose.” Zach fiddles with the zip on his hoodie, eyes down. “Do I, like, know ya or something?” He racks his brain, trying to place her face.

She smiles, a sad and happy thing at the same time. “No, we’ve never met, but you look like you could use some company.”

“Riiight.” Zach drawls, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Uh, well…” He waits for her to keep talking, but she just stands there beside him, calm, patient.

“Your mother, right?” she asks softly, and it makes Zach sick to his stomach. “She misses you, I believe, and I think she would be so proud of who you are now.”

She has no right to say that. 

Why the fuck would she say that?

“That’s a wild guess, like, there’s no way you can guess that.” He shifts, uncomfortable, glancing toward his car where Staines is pacing behind the glass. He’s on edge but weirdly calm, like he’s in a dream. He really misses the old days: drinking, screwing around, keeping it surface-level. Drunk friends were easier than real ones. One-night stands hurt less than betrayal.

“I can tell.” She says it simply, as it explains everything.

Bile rises in his throat. He bites his bottom lip, trying to keep his voice steady. “Well, thank you, but—” You don’t know what you’re talking about is right there on his tongue. Thanks but no one asked isn’t far behind. But he can’t get either out.

“Firefighter, so brave, so kind. Her little boy is all grown up, and a hero, what mother wouldn’t be proud?”

“Ah, well, actually—w-wait, hold up, how did you know that?”

“Your gear is on the back seat of your car; you should probably tidy it up, in case of unexpected guests, or if someone breaks into it overnight.” She smiles, eyes glinting like sunlight through glass, and walks around him to sit—of all places—on his mother’s tombstone.

Rude. 

Disrespectful. 

He opens his mouth to call her out for it, but she tilts her head, gaze pinning him where he stands. “Why are you here?”

Why is he here? Why is she here?

He lets out a shaky laugh, and Staines barks again from the Subaru, the sound sharp and impatient.

“Well, I came to visit my dead mother, which, and I could be wrong, but I believe it is not a crime? Then again, I’m L.A.F.D, not L.A.P.D, so I dunno, and uh, spoiler alert chicky, you’re the one whose, like,  all up in my grill right now, like, some weirdo. Legit, not cool.”

She nods like she’s not offended at all. “You know, you’re a good person, Zachary, you’re loyal, kind, and when you focus, you can be clever.”

That freezes him. He doesn’t remember telling her his name. His stomach twists. The world feels a little less solid. He trembles as he tries to form words—then a small voice whispers right behind his ear.

“She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s wrong.”

He stiffens. The voice is high, sing-song, and childish.

A little barefoot girl—soot-streaked, eyes too bright—runs circles around him, waving her arms, laughing. His eyes follow her instinctively. The woman notices his gaze, confusion flickering across her face, before her eyes track in the same direction.

“She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s wrong,” the girl sings, “You’re a failure. You let everyone down.” 

Great. He can’t fight with a ghost kid in front of some random lady. What a fucking day.

The lady looks toward the girl—like she can actually see her—and says, gentle but firm, “Not now, sweetie.” She lifts her hand, and in an instant, the child vanishes.

It can’t be connected, Zach knows that rationally, but then the lady looks at him, “You’re allowed to make mistakes, Zachary, and you can’t save everyone every time. You are only one person, and you still have so much to learn. Guilt will consume you and drag you down, and no Mother wants that for their son.” Her fingers ghost over his face. “Her handsome boy, all grown up.” 

He closes his eyes for a second, blinking away tears, struggling again to find the words to say to this lady who’s overstepped every boundary. 

But when he opens his eyes, she’s gone. He looks around the graveyard, but he can’t see her. It’s like she’s disappeared. 

Fucking crazy lady playing games on him. 

He kneels next to the tombstone, tells his mother that he loves her and hopes she might love him, if there is an afterlife or something, before he gets up and dusts himself off. 

Staines is barking in the distance.

And nothing is fixed. 

This is why he drinks. 

**

Meanwhile, Tommy knocks on Zach’s apartment door.

It’s been long enough. Time to stop avoiding the kid, time to stop pretending he doesn’t care.

He tells himself he’s just here to make sure Zach’s okay—just a welfare check, nothing more—but the truth is, he misses him. The relentless hounding, the 2 a.m. Facebook messages that somehow mixed memes with emotional crises, the Snapchats of Rexie revving in the driveway, the terrible jokes, the chaos.

He even misses giving Zach advice, which is saying something, because it always made him feel important, or something. 

And yes, he’s worried, because as far as he knows, Zach is still dating K.J., and if that’s the case, then Tommy wants to be there when it all comes crashing down (little does he know it already has) 

Plus, someone needs to check in with Zach about how he’s doing with the dead girl.

So, it’s time to take the step he never did with Buck, and grow up, to admit that someone might need him. 

He knocks, and the door opens to Zach’s flatmate Frank, who looks at him and goes, “Uber?”

“Tommy.”

Frank looks way too confused for a guy who’s seen Tommy (and Buck and Lucy many times before) before it dawns on him. 

“Oh! That Daddy that Zach likes, right? Like, dude, I hope I’m as fit as you are when I’m retired.” 

Before Tommy can say anything, Frank turns to Cass, “Cass, Cass, Zach’s daddy dude is here, can you deal with him?”

And Frank leaves without saying a word to him, to be replaced by Zach’s slightly less annoying flatmate, Cassidy.

“T-bone in the flesh.” Cassidy says, before ‘dapping’ him up like they are bro’s.

“Uh, I’m looking for Zach?”

“Why?” Cassidy asks, eyes going dark as he studies Tommy’s face.

“It’s… personal,” Tommy says carefully, eager not to reveal too much. “We need to talk.”

Cassidy crosses his arms. “You know he’s still kinda wrecked about the whole falling-out, right? So, like, maybe don’t come in here swinging. He doesn’t need to be attacked or guilt-tripped or whatever.”

Tommy feels oddly impressed at Cassidy’s attempts to defend Zach, “Hmm, I hear you, don’t worry, I’ve gotta say sorry to him.”

“Oh, you? You guys are messy as fuck for people that aren’t banging, but cool, ‘cause honestly I dunno how much drama I can deal with, but good news!”

There’s a lot to deal with in that sentence, so Tommy lamely goes, “Sorry, good news?”

Cassidy grins like a cat who’s been waiting all day to spill tea. “K.J. is gone burgers, dude. Zach finally kicked that sad little man-child to the curb. My boy took out the trash!”

Tommy exhales, and yeah, that is good news about time.

“So, uh,” he asks, “where is he now?”

Cassidy winces. “Getting Rexie back. Poor guy got his car towed this morning. Whole saga. You missed, like, three episodes of drama.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh despite himself. “Figures.”

“Oh my god, honestly, he’s so much work, you can have him back.” Cassidy grins, tapping him on the shoulder like they’re buds. “Go fix things, dude.”

Tommy would like to point out that he’s trying. 

**

Unfortunately for Tommy, trying to fix something is hard when Zach ignores his phone calls, and he regrets talking Zach into taking his privacy more seriously by disabling his snapchat map thing so Tommy can’t even stalk him on there (although, that might be a tad too much?)

So accepting defeat, at least for today, Tommy goes home, sits on the couch, and resorts to VHS (yes, VHS, not Netflix, not DVD).

He curls up with a blanket and sends Buck funny memes he finds online as the rom-com starts. 

**

Later that night, Tommy was already in his pyjamas, toothbrush in hand, about to call it a night, when he heard the familiar, obnoxious growl of a Subaru WRX tearing down his otherwise peaceful street.

There was no need to look; of course, he already knew who it belonged to.

So, he stands there in his bathroom limply, because he’s tired now, and he’s not sure he has the energy for dealing with this mess. He had psyched himself up earlier; now he’s running on empty. 

Plus, Buck will be home soon. 

The only question that lingered, gnawing at the edge of his patience, was why?. Why was Zach showing up here now?

Was he looking for forgiveness, or another round? 

He makes his way out of the bathroom and into the lounge and waits. 

He waits for ages, listening to the Subaru turbo idling away, waiting for the doorbell. He assumes Zach will ring and wait, rather than letting himself in like usual. 

Except no one knocks or rings the doorbell, so Tommy sighs deeply to himself, moving to the window and parting the curtain just enough to confirm what he already knew. 

There’s that blue Subaru parked right outside his house.

So he stands by the window and waits. 

 And he waits, and waits.

 Eventually, after a solid ten minutes, he gives up waiting and goes to finish getting ready for bed, which is precisely when the doorbell rings. 

Tommy opens the door, “Why are you here, Anderson?”

It was a fair question, but slightly more snappy than it should have been, given Tommy wants nothing more than to hug the idiot and apologise for his actions which have led to this moment.

Zach’s standing awkwardly on the porch, hands shoved into his jacket pockets like a teenager caught sneaking out past curfew. His head is ducked low, his voice uncharacteristically unsure, given Zach always seems so cocky all the time. “Tommy. Uh. How are things?”

Tommy winces slightly at the use of his proper nickname from Zach, which is weird given how often he has tried to correct the idiot in the past before giving up and accepting the alternating use of T-bone or Daddy-T. 

“I’m good, you?”

“Fine, I’m fine. So, like, have you been busy or?” 

Tommy's eyebrows rise at the question, already halfway through closing the door. “Hmmm, so I’m not interested in small talk, Anderson. Goodnight.”

But before the door can shut, Zach thankfully reaches out, hand bracing against the solid wood panels of the front door. “Wait. Please, just don’t shut the door on me.”

The sentence is rawer than Tommy is expecting, and hits him unexpectedly, and without meaning to, he defaults to snarky. “ Please? Did we learn a new word?”

Now, normally, the comment would be part of their banter and would earn a quip back from Zach, but right now, it was unfair, and Tommy regrets it even before the slight flinch from Zach, who bounces on his heels on the doorstep. 

“Yeah. Nah, man.” Then he steps back off the porch, shaking his head. “Have a good night.”

And just like that, he turns and walks back toward the WRX, leaving Tommy standing in the doorway, arms folded, heart pounding his chest louder than it should be. No, Tommy decides there and then, he’s not letting this drag on. 

He might not be the best with words, but he’s gonna try.

“Zach, stop right there.”
And the younger man does, but he is still looking out to the street.

“You did not drive all this way to say goodnight to me.”

Zach turns, still avoiding eye contact. “I…I…” He stutters, “Look, like, dude…”

“Dude?”

“I fucked things up, man, and like, I know that won’t fix it, but I just needed.. Fuck… shit.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, but fondly, as he stands awkwardly on his doorstep in the cool night air. “What is happening here, Anderson?”

Zach rubs his eyes, “I watched this YouTube video…” 

That earned a more sarcastic eye roll from Tommy.

“And..” Zach continues, “Like, it legit explained you’re meant to make your apology about the other person, and ya know, like, their feelings but I made it about me and my needs and now….”

“I’m sorry, you had to watch a YouTube video to know how to apologise?” 

Zach shoves his hands into his pockets. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I mean, how is it any different from watching one to learn how to change a tyre? Whatever asshole,” and then Zach grimaces, face screwing up with regret, “I-I didn’t mean, shit….” 

“Didn’t your dad teach you … oh, right… Look, here’s an idea: how about you just say something from the bottom of your heart?”

“Oh, good idea…” Zach replies, grabbing his phone and typing something on it furiously. If Tommy had learned anything, this would not be a good sign in the slightest, but he still waits in hope, bated breath...

“I don’t want to ruin this moment, but I was expecting you to, oh, I don’t know, say something,” Tommy says, increasingly amused. Weirdly, this is what he missed. 

“Yeah, yeah old man, just wait a minute, wait… almost got it”

“What are you doing?” Tommy asks, before he looks over Zach’s phone screen, and groans into the night air because of course, just, of course. “I’m sorry, are you typing something into ChatGPT? For real?”

Indeed, it was for real, and Zach looked confused at the question, “You wanted something from the heart, this is really good for that, bro, like you type in how you're feeling and the tone you want, and it tells you what to say.”

“Look at me, and tell me why you’re here… no, look at me, not your phone.”

‘Tommy…”

“Or I can go?” Tommy suggests, because he has to apologise as well. 

Except Zach misunderstands the question as ‘go’ like leave, rather than ‘go’ where Tommy does his apology first. 

So, swallowing a lump, Zach shakes his head, “Right, look, I, like, legit don’t expect you to want to have anything to do with me, I promise, I just… I’m saying ‘I’ too much…fuck bro, I dunno”

“Keep going,” Tommy encourages gently, trying to look friendly.

Zach gives him a crooked nod, chewing the inside of his cheek as his face goes a little redder. “So, just so ya know, like, honest to god, I am sorry for hurting you, you really were like a, I dunno, is it offensive…”

“Never stopped you before.” Tommy points out, which causes Zach to wince before he continues, 

“Yeah. Fair. Deserved. Totally walked into that one.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes looking up to the moon.

“You were saying.” Tommy reminds, prompting Zach to get back on course. 

“Not that you’re old-old,” Zach starts again, staring down at his too-expensive sneakers, “but I always kinda saw you as, like, a fatherly type of man. Please don’t be mad. Anyway, maybe… possibly… sort of… I let my ego get the best of me. And I let you down. Then I made it worse, which…yeah, ya know, not cool. And I said something I really shouldn’t have. You didn’t deserve that, bro. You’re like… a solid W … even if you’re like kinda a baby sometimes, but, like, I shouldn’t have called ya out, well, not like that.”

Tommy sighs deeply as Zach rambles, and, unusually for the younger idiot, he seemed to notice, looking up “I’m bugging you, shit, look, Tommy, I’m sorry and I’ll just leave you alone, promise.” 

He starts to back away, shoulders drooping, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Oi, idiot, stop,” Tommy calls out, and Zach stops for a second time. “I forgive you, by the way.”

A thousand expressions cross Zach’s puzzled face as he squints at Tommy. 

“For calling you old?”

“For being an asshole,” Tommy corrects, managing not to roll his eyes by some small miracle.

That seemed to short-circuit Zach’s brain. “Oh okay, but w-wait… but you can’t. Dude, like-”

“Oh, but I did.”

Zach is quiet for an amazing, wonderful second, before his face lit up with sudden realization. “Right, right. You mean like, you won’t burn my house down kind of forgive me. I understand, that’s cool…cool, I should probably, you know, like, go.”

Tommy shakes his head, “Nah, I mean the full monty, the ‘come inside and have a beer with me before you fuck off’ kind of forgive .”

Nope, still no understanding on Zach’s part, which breaks Tommy's heart a little, to be honest. He waits before he sighs again, “Mmmm, come in Zach, let’s have a beer.”

God above give Tommy strength he prays, because for some reason Zach has some sort of martyr complex going on. “Wait, you can't,” he repeats dumbly.

Tommy gives Zach a look as he deliberately misunderstood the question, which is only fair after everything. “Have a beer? Trust me, Zach, I’ve been legally allowed to drink since before you were born.”

Which is a kind of depressing to be honest. 

Zach huffs, hands still shoved deep into his pockets, “No, you can’t just… What are you doing? I… for fuck sake man, it was, it was pretty low. Like you can’t forgive me for that, dawg.”

Well, Zach’s moved on from calling him Tommy, so Tommy counts that as a step in the right direction. It feels gross when Zach calls him Tommy, which he will never admit. 

It’s Tommy’s turn to scoff, the sound of which upsets Zach, but Tommy ignores it, instead launching into his explanation, “Right, of course, my mistake. Zach, you’re right, you are so unforgivable. No one else has ever done anything remotely comparable to what you did. Well, here’s a surprise for you: I forgive you after all you’ve done. I forgive you.”

“But… but…”

“Oh, do you think I care so little for our friendship that that would make you unforgivable to me? You think so little of me that I can’t show compassion or understanding?”

“Understanding? Do you even understand what I did to you, dude? What I said to you?”

Now Tommy scoffs, but it was a serious scoff, not the playful one from before, “You think I don’t understand? Me? You think I haven’t been in your shoes before? You think I haven’t been a total dick to someone? Multiple people, actually, hiding behind my own cowardness, having to take ownership and responsibility for my actions. You think you’re the only person to have ever fucked up.”

Zach squints, “Yo, I don’t think I’ve heard you swear man.”

Not the point, Tommy thinks to himself. 

“Focus, please.” Tommy growls, “I forgive you because I…” he took a deep breath, “...care about you. That is not a free card to abuse our friendship, or my forgiveness, but I can allow you this one indiscretion… besides, to be honest, I owe you an apology myself, I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

Zach laughs, but’s broken as he bitterly shakes his head, eyes lowered, “Nah, man, you were right, of course you fucking where, because you always are - K.J. fucked everything up man, like everything.”

Ahh, relationship ending blues Tommy thinks to himself, he’s been there, so he attempts to pat Zach’s shoulder, “Hey now, everything isn’t ruined.”

The laughter from Zach turns to tears, like big fat tears, and Zach collapses into a lump on his porch, head buried in between his knees. Now, it’s hard enough seeing someone cry, but especially when it’s a 25 year former (?) fuckboy who wears his cap backwards and says shit like ‘Feelings can suck my balls.’

Ask Tommy to steal a helicopter, fly into a hurricane, and he’s fine.

Ask Tommy to run into a burning fire, and he’s fine.

Ask Tommy to deal with emotions, and well, it’s not so fine. 

Still he kneels on his porch next to Zach, and tries to comfort him, as Zach mutters something about ‘them’ and ‘the video’.

A solid ten minutes later, Zach's coherent enough for Tommy to find out what he means by ‘them’, and ‘the video’ and Tommy’s blood boils and he sees red.

Every muscle in his body wants to shake Zach senseless and ask what the fuck he was thinking, doing that, let alone let it be filmed. 

But he reminds himself that Zach already knows that, and it’s probably the last thing he needs to hear right now, plus Tommy’s not going to let Zach’s stupidity override K.J.’s cruelty. 

“Come on, kid, lets get you inside.” Tommy coaxes gently, wrapping an arm around Zach and lifting him to his feet. 

“W-wait, hold up, uh, the dog.”

That does get Tommy to wait, “Dog? What dog?”

“Oh, the dog that bit me.” Zach says casually, raising his hand to show the faint bite marks, “Cost me, like, $200…”

“What have you gotten up to in the last couple of days?” Tommy asks, half in disbelief but also, it sort of tracks. He’s not sure what he expected.

“Uh, well, I lost my best friend, then my boyfriend, then my car and family, gained a dog, got my car back and maybe, possibly, might have gotten my best friend back?”

Tommy laughs, “It would take more than you being a dick to lose me-” he sighs, “Shit, lets deal with one thing at a time. The dog?”

“Yes?”

Right, Tommy’s going to have to be clearer, that’s fine, “Some details, boy or girl, big or small, friendly or…” 

“Oh, he’s super cute.” Zach beams, pulling out his phone, and while it’s not an answer, at least Zach has a 1,000 (and Tommy means 1,000) photos of him and the dog. It’s a small Jack Russell and it does look cute. 

Then it clicks in his head, that’s the barking noise he can hear. 

“Uh, can I go get him? He doesn’t like being alone.” 

“Is he good with cats?” Tommy asks.

**

Staines wants to be friends with Mister Thomas.

Mister Thomas has no such desires, and scratches Staines on his nose before Zach picks up the demon kitty and takes him to Tommy’s bedroom and dumps him on the bed.

He comes back a few moments later with a new scratch on his arm and that dopey grin. 

**

Tommy eyes Zach, crossing his arms  over his chest, “Staines?”

Zach, standing there like a guilty teenager caught red-handed, looks completely unfazed. “Yeah,” he says with utter conviction. “Because he looks like someone poured an iced coffee over him.”

Tommy repeats, letting the disbelief drip in. “An iced coffee?”

“Yeah. With, like, extra caramel drizzle, and all that good stuff.”

Tommy almost believes him. 

Almost.

“Right,” Tommy says finally, in that tone that manages to convey both judgement and exhaustion. He bends down, scoops up the small brown-and-cream dog currently wagging its tail like a blender on max, and starts down his hallway. “Wait here,” he orders Zach, who frowns at him but dutifully follows the instructions.

“Call the dog.” Tommy says, and Zach’s face tells him he was right.

Zach coughed into his hand, trying to hide the grin. “Here, boy.”

Tommy shakes his head, still holding the dog. “Uh, no, call Staines…”

Zach breaks, he tries. Oh god, he tries, he really does, to hold it together, but the second the words form, he doubles over, laughing so hard he has to brace himself on the doorframe. “Come, Staines! Come!” he wheezes between hysterical giggles.

“You are a child.” Tommy exclaims in mock disappointment. “An absolute child.” 

Zach tries to straighten, still laughing, face red, wiping his eyes. “Oh, relax, T-bone, it’s funny!”

“It’s juvenile.” Tommy corrects, although he smiles at the use of his nickname. 

“It’s both!” Zach argues, “Ya know, Art is, like, subjective or shit, bro,” 

Tommy gives up pretending to be mad. “Ah huh, I see, but you named a dog Staines just so you could yell inappropriate commands at the park, didn’t you?”

Zach snorts. “You gotta admit, though, imagine it, right?. All those little old ladies clutching their pearls, comedy gold, man.”

**

Sitting on the couch, Tommy takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry-”

“Stop, just stop, okay, you were right.” Zach sighs, “I should have-”

“I can be right, but still do something the wrong way.” Tommy explains, “Instead of being there for you, I put you in a rough spot and it was wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that instead of being the bigger man, I…” he trails off, and the words don’t come.

Zach shrugs, “It’s okay, I forgive you, if that’s, like, okay?”

“It’s okay.” Tommy jokes. 

“Good, and, uh, I want you to know, I do think you’re a coward.” Zach says slowly, nervously looking ahead. “Because, you kinda are.” 

“Oh? Interesting choice.” Tommy replies. 

“But, like, a brave coward right? Like, you would die for someone but you really struggle to let people in, right? Even Buck, who you let fuck you, you’re kinda waiting for things to turn to shit but it doesn’t have to be shit, like, you can let people in T-bone, and not just physically” 

It’s crude, but it’s also Zach, so Tommy exhales deeply before he replies, wondering if he has enough beer in the house. 

“I know.” Tommy says, “It’s something I’m working on, it’s not helpful when my so called friend-”

“Bestfriend.” Zach corrects, “Like, if Buck dies tomorrow, I’m it.”

Tommy squints, looking over his shoulder, “What does that even mean?”

“Okay, so, legit, I’m not actually sure, but ya get the vibe right?.” Zach admits, “But, like, I just wanted to let you know that I do think that but It, I just, ya know, like…” he plays with his fingers, “Ikindawanttohurtyoulikeyouhurtmyfeelings.” he admits quietly. 

Tommy laughs, “Hmm, I gathered that. So, I forgive you for your meltdown if you forgive me for pushing you too hard?” 

“Tight, bro.” 

**

There’s the distinct sound of a key in the front door, and Zach freezes on the couch, “Shit, Buck’s here.” and his breathing changes slightly as his nerves pick up again. 

“It’s okay,” Tommy lies, although part of him is nervous at Buck’s reaction as well. Buck is kind hearted, compassionate man but he’s also deeply loyal and protective. 

Staines wakes up on Zach’s lap. 

“He’s gonna, like, punch me or something.” Zach says, tensing up and Tommy puts an arm on his shoulder.

“He won’t”

The door to the lounge opens, and Buck walks in like nothing is unusual. “Uh, good evening Zach, good to see you again.” then actual shock hits Buck’s face as he spots the dog,and his expression melts from polite neutrality into mild, surprised delight. “Oh, hello.” He crouches instinctively as Staines launches himself off Zach’s lap. “And who are you, little cutie?”

“Staines,” Zach says, voice smaller now, leaning instinctively toward Tommy as if for cover and Tommy gets it, he does. Buck can be jealous, protective, petty and intense, but he’s also soft, caring, understanding and patient. 

He’s got full confidence that Buck can read the room. 

Buck grins as the dog licks his hand. “Well, he’s adorable.” He glances up then, eyes flicking between Tommy and Zach, reading the air like a man approaching a gas leak. “So, uh, everything here’s all good?”

His tone is hopeful but cautious.

“Yes, Evan,” Tommy says evenly, though there’s a touch of affection in it. “Everything’s great.”

Buck studies him for a second, as if searching for confirmation. Then, satisfied, he exhales and nods. “Uh, well, g-good. That’s… good, I’m, uh, glad.” A small, genuine smile curls at the edge of his mouth, the kind that used to undo Tommy completely.

Buck existing is almost enough to undo Tommy completely to be fair. 

He straightens up, clapping his hands once. “So. Have you eaten, Zach? I was about to cook pasta for Tommy and me.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

“Sure you can,” Buck interrupts easily, already halfway toward the kitchen. “You’ve eaten here plenty of times before, without invitation.”

 “So, that’s sorted then, I’ll put enough on for three.” Buck announces from the kitchen, “The more the merrier.” 

Zach taps Tommy on the shoulder, leaning in closer, “Ahh, T-bone, can you, like, come with me when I catch up with Lucy, ya know, just to show her I’m like, chill now?” 

Tommy can’t help the laugh, “Oh, you think I can protect you from Lucy? Oh, you poor poor man… I mean, sure, I’ll be there, but I dunno if it’ll help.”

“Great, this might be my last meal.” Zach sighs into his hands.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Zach, you’ll have breakfast tomorrow won’t you?” 

If looks could kill, Tommy would be in danger right now. 

It feels good again.