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The reality of being a parent was something Buck had never really considered, because that reality—as far as he’d been concerned at the time—was still quite a bit off in the future. Until it wasn’t. Buck had gone from Mr. Poppy while trying to rescue a wayward child and his red balloon to becoming a dad in just a few short months. And Theo was a whole different challenge altogether. But Buck already loved him so much.
Even if some days he felt almost too exhausted to feel anything.
Because Theo was definitely still living in his wild child era despite all of the recent tragedy in his short life. Buck was never not amazed at the kid’s resilience. But Buck would also like it if Theo could be just a little less excitable, though Buck doesn’t think he’d ever say that out loud; he’d be saddened to see all the exuberance, all that light be suppressed. There were still days where he’d look at Theo and be reminded of himself, a possibility of what he could have been, what his own childhood could have been if he had parents like Connor and Kameron, who despite all the antics, loved him unconditionally.
So Buck finds another solution for all of Theo’s extra energy; he starts taking Theo to the park whenever he can. Usually to the one located walking distance from Buck’s house, but he likes switching it up every other weekend, wanting to introduce new scenery to Theo.
This weekend, the park he chose was one he’s driven past many times what felt like a lifetime ago, whenever he was making his way to Tommy’s house. It was huge, spanning quite a bit of land, and it always caught his attention as he would drive alongside its perimeter for a good length of time. It always looked so nice, and was a perfect place to take Milo, let him run around, work off all that excess energy stored in his tiny little body. Even if he’d had a stray thought about possibly running into Tommy, well LA is big, and during the months of dating and staying over, he’d never really heard Tommy mention this park. So he didn’t really think anything of it. He’s just here for Theo. And it seems to be going well. Buck was already tired barely an hour into their outing, choosing to find a nice shaded spot to sit down while he lets the boy run around on his own (always within his sightline), chasing butterflies, birds, the occasional bee—though Buck does try to steer him away from that as best he can.
It’s when Theo is running all over the place that he inevitably trips, falling onto the grass and landing hands first into some mud. Buck swears they gasp at the same time, and he’s already prepared for this. He’s got the wet-naps and everything. Not even waiting to see if Theo would start crying, he’s turning to grab the wet-naps out of the bag of supplies he brought—something he’s learned to always bring when on these Theo-outings—but when he looks up (wet-naps clutched in his hand, Theo is nowhere in sight.
Looking around, he doesn’t spot any familiar glimpse of unruly blond hair or the new red shoes the little boy had picked out himself on their first shopping trip together.
One second Theo was pushing himself up to his feet again, and the next, gone.
Don’t panic, Buck tells himself even as he feels those cold claws dig into his brain, crawl up his spine. Panicking won’t do him any favors; he needs to stay calm. He stuffs the wet-naps haphazardly back into the bag and stands up. A taller and further vantage point will help, surely. Maybe he should call out, like parents always do in movies and tv shows he’s watched, but his voice feels locked in his throat.
Yet his feet move of their own accord, carrying him towards where Theo had last been. The spot remains empty even as he gets closer and closer—Theo doesn’t just magically appear. Buck’s breathing increases, he starts to feel faint, head swinging left and right. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He’s only just gotten Theo back after repeated meeting with Deidre, with other people he barely remembers the faces of; it’s been barely two months, and he’s already somehow lost him. God. What a fucking terrible parent he is. Buck is barely a dad and now he’s gone and lost a whole live human being, albeit he’s tiny, but that might actually make it worse.
A million and one thoughts run through his head as he tries to decide which direction to start searching. Where exactly would Theo go? Did he run off on his own? What if someone took him instead? How is Buck going to live with himself if something happened to Theo? Everything swirls around his brain and Buck feels the earlier panic really start to set in. The corners of his eyes prickle with tears and he opens his mouth, Theo’s name already at the tip of his tongue—
“Evan?”
Oh. That’s a very familiar voice.
Tommy.
Buck’s brain stalls for a second. The panic he’d been slowly feeling overwhelmed by cuts off abruptly at the sound of Tommy’s voice.
This is probably the worst moment for the older man to pop back up. Fuck, why was he even here?! This park was huge. Tommy’s house is on the other side of said huge park…what kind of luck was this? Buck loses his son and his ex shows up to witness his spectacular failure? Sighing, he braces himself as he slowly turns around.
Except Tommy isn’t alone.
Buck blinks, once, twice, and then again at the sight before him. He feels faint, like maybe he’s hallucinating.
Because in Tommy’s arms, sitting astride the other man’s hip, is Theo, muddy hands and all. And he’s grinning, big and wide, as he chatters away like he’s not in some stranger’s arms, little hand pointed right in Buck’s direction.
And he’s made a mess of Tommy’s shirt, not that the older man looks at all bothered by the smeared handprints all over his once pristine shirt.
Buck looks at Theo, then at Tommy, then back to Theo. He feels like he’s in a fog, the cogs in his brain turning too slow as he tries to take everything in. Blinking again, the image before doesn’t change at all. Tommy really is there, and by some weird ass universal coincidence, he’s managed to find Buck’s kid, who looks way too comfortable in the older man’s arms.
“Theo!” Buck is running before his mind has even registered the need to. And it’s only his quick reflexes that stop him from smacking directly into Tommy and Theo.
His flailing earns him giggles from Theo and an ever familiar fond shake of the head from Tommy.
Part of Buck latches on to that little gesture, craves the need for the other’s attention, and notes that it’s still the same as before. Blue eyes, soft and warm as they gaze upon Buck. It’s nice and Buck feels the longing he still has for their previous relationship, for the security he had once felt with Tommy. But in the meantime, more of him is still dealing with having momentarily lost Theo. Theo, who is now safe and sound and no less happy than he was minutes ago. Maybe even more so as Tommy bounces him lightly, making him laugh more.
Buck can’t fully relax, though, “Theo, you can’t just run off like that!” He’s panting, the panic that he’d been feeling lingering faintly at the edges of his mind. Turning his focus entirely on the little boy, Buck fusses, touching and tracing every inch of the squirming four year old to appease his own need to know that Theo is okay, that he wasn’t harmed in any way. And because he’s not quite ready to deal with the Tommy-of-it-all yet.
But Tommy doesn’t really give him any leeway. Still holding onto Theo, or maybe it’s Theo holding onto Tommy, little arm wrapped tight around the older man’s neck like this 6’2” strange man he’d never met until today is now his new toy.
Hysterically, Buck wonders if Theo would want to drag Tommy home with them with the same stubbornness he’d displayed that day on the electrical tower with the balloon. (And a small teeny tiny part of Buck doesn’t think he’d wholly mind that, a thought he quickly shoves out of the way.)
Still, Tommy is right there, and he’s holding Theo so naturally. Both of their hair, fluffy and windblown, look almost similar under the sunlight.
“Does this little guy belong to you, Evan?” Buck expected judgement or even derision, but instead all he hears is genuine curiosity in Tommy’s voice.
“Oh, um, yeah. This is—”
“Theo!” The little boy points to himself, smile so wide it nearly bisects his face.
A bubble of laughter rolls out of Buck’s mouth at that, and then Tommy is joining in. Together, they stand there, in the middle of the park, just laughing. Sharing a moment. Theo, too, starts to giggle like he knows what’s going on, not even fazed that he had nearly given Buck a heart attack twice in quick succession.
“So, you babysitting?” Tommy asks, innocent because of course he has no idea all that’s happened in Buck’s life the last couple of months—since Bobby’s funeral, or maybe even before that. There’s a tinge of bitterness to Buck’s thoughts at that reminder, but he pushes it down as he looks up to meet Tommy’s eyes.
God, they’re so blue, just as I remember, the thought crosses his mind.
He ignores it.
“A-actually, Theo’s my, uh, he’s mine…” he trails off. There’s no perfect way to say it really. How does one tell their ex-boyfriend that the kid he’s holding is Buck’s biological son who came about because one of Buck’s old friends asked for a donation of his sperm…and then he and his wife died in a freak accident less than six months ago…? Especially when you’ve not even seen nor heard from said ex-boyfriend in nearly a year.
“He’s…yours?” Tommy sounds shocked, and Buck braces himself for the negative reaction that he’d been expecting earlier. So of course Tommy catches him off guard again with his simple, “he’s cute.”
“Oh, ah, y-yeah. He is.”
“And quite a little track star in the making,” the older man continues with a chuckle, he turns to look at Theo, smiling indulgently at the little boy who responds with another sunny grin, as if in agreement with Tommy’s statement. “Ran right into me, nearly bulldozed me over.”
“Shi—I mean, uh, are you—a-are you okay?” Now his eyes roam across Tommy’s body, and god, yeah…he’s fine. In fact he looks more than fine. Tommy still looked just as attractive as he did that night they’d first met, Buck stuffed into the back of his about-to-be stolen LAFD chopper and the older man in his blue flight suit. Broad shoulders, broad chest, thick arms, and Buck wants. He nearly reaches out, just one little touch, and then he notices—
All that mud.
“I survived to tell the tale.”
“Your shirt! God, I’m so sorry about that.”
They say at the exact same time.
Both of them freeze for a second, Buck stares wide-eyed into Tommy’s eyes. Then Tommy is shaking his head, shrugging with the one shoulder that didn’t have a toddler attached to it.
“Evan, it’s okay. Just a shirt. I’ve ended up much worse tinkering in my garage,” he says.
And Buck hums, recalling those days where he’d just lounge around Tommy’s place on an off day, watching the older man work on his ‘69 Mustang—all cut-off shirts that show off every glistening inch of muscle and arms smeared with streaks of grease. He remembers those days fondly, and says as much without thinking.
“Oh yeah, I remember.”
A beat passes between them as they share another look. This one felt different, and perhaps Buck is projecting and reading too much into it, but there was a spark of something between them—there maybe always was and always will be—a longing that lingers.
Until Theo gets impatient.
“I’m hungry,” he declares with all the bravado and confidence that comes with being four years old. “I want ice cream.”
Dear god, that sounds like a terrible idea, feeding more sugar to his adorable energizer bunny, but then Buck looks at Tommy again and nods before he could help himself. It might be a long shot, it might lead nowhere but back to the exact spot they’ve been in for the last couple of months—since their hookup, since the helicopter chase, since Bobby—or it might stoke the last stubborn embers that never seems to completely die out between them. What did Buck have to lose right now anyway?
“Do you still like the neapolitan from Sonny’s?” Buck asks, hopeful. “I mean…t-to make up for Theo turning you into a, uh…”
“Mud pie?” The older man suggests. He’s not saying no (yet) and Buck’s hopes rise higher with every passing second that no direct rejection comes. “I suppose…if you insist.”
“Yes, yes, yes! We get ice cream together.” Theo has spoken.
“Well, how can I say no to that request—and to Sonny’s.” There’s an unspoken, you remembered, as Tommy looks at Buck with a small smile, a familiar smile.
“Let’s go get ice cream, then.” Buck returns the smile with one of his own.
“Ice cream!”
And then Theo is off, not running his feet but running his mouth instead, talking a mile a minute at Tommy, who listens attentively, nodding and humming at all the appropriate moments. Not once had Buck thought to take Theo out of the other man’s arms, somehow instinctively trusting Tommy with Theo. At least more than he could trust Tommy with his own heart (for now).
He still doesn’t know what all of this means, where it’s all actually headed, but he thinks he might be excited to find out.