Fake Mouth Static

But in the aftermath of pain is always peace.

And even if the pain carries on for hours, days – years, even – it always finds its way to peace eventually.

Today was a lucky one, one where his prayers were answered not just for his safety but for everyone he cares about. Chim survived, relatively unscathed, and found his words enough to promise forever with Maddie.

So, today, the peace soothes quickly, brings a barrage of beauty and, with it, Eddie finally feels like he can exhale.

When his eyes scan the narrow hallway, they eventually land on Buck, tucked in a corner on a bench at the end of it, Tommy slumped on his shoulder in sleep. He offers a little wave to Eddie with his free hand, the other holding a plate with cake of his own.

Eddie smiles, warmth filling the last little bits of his chest, love from Chim and Maddie blooming beside moments shared with Chris and Abula already settled there. But it’s not lost on Eddie how big this day was for Buck, too.

How hard it was for him to admit he was on a date with Tommy that night at the loft. The way he’d been so quiet, worry pinched between his eyes until Eddie finally realized he was focused on the wrong thing. Eddie hadn’t experienced something like that, himself, but he knew his job was easy.

Buck let go, and Eddie just had to catch.

When Buck disappeared after the ‘I Do’s and came back with Tommy, dragged along by his hand through the sea of people at the door, Eddie was already grinning. When he looked up and saw the soot lining Buck’s mouth, the giddy smile across his cheeks, he knew Buck made a choice that was so completely him, Eddie couldn’t be prouder.

“Hey,” he murmurs now, sinking onto the bench beside Buck. He leans over to make sure he hasn’t disrupted Tommy, but when he does Buck tosses a dismissive wave at him.

“He’s dead to the world,” Buck laughs. “Was at that wildfire the last day and a half. I don’t think you’d wake him up i-if you slapped him.”

Eddie raises his brows and teases “Or sprained his ankle?”

Buck shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and takes another bite of vanilla and buttercream. He looks happy in a way Eddie doesn’t quite remember seeing him before. Like he finally feels calm.

Peaceful.

“How’s the hangover?” Eddie asks, digging into his own slice.

Buck closes his eyes and takes a breath. “I’m gonna sleep for a day…or five.”

Eddie takes out a bottle of water he’d shoved into his pocket and cracks the seal, handing it over to Buck.

“Thank you,” Buck says before inhaling half the bottle. He offers it back to Eddie with a grimace, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs. “There’s more. You keep it.”

They eat a few more bites in quiet company, the occasional door swinging shut nearby, Maddie’s laughter drifting from across the hall. Bobby and Athena duck out and wave goodbye to the pair before heading out themselves.

When they finish, Eddie takes Buck’s plate and stacks it with his own, tossing it in a garbage nearby before settling back beside Buck.

“I’m glad he could come,” Eddie says, gesturing to Tommy.

Buck looks up at him, eyes shimmering with surprise and that alone makes Eddie’s chest ache.

Proving people care in a way Buck doesn’t think anyone does is like fighting the devil himself sometimes, thoughts so ingrained they’re burned into Buck’s bones.

“R-Really?” Buck asks. “I-I mean–”

“Well, I had a question for him about the Cheville,” Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest.

He cares, but he is still Buck’s best friend, after all – he can’t resist the teasing.

It works and Buck chuckles, the tension in his shoulders dropping slightly, his elbow playfully jabbing into Eddie’s ribs.

Eddie turns toward him, catching his eyes so he knows Buck hears him.

“Really,” Eddie says. “I’m proud of you, man. You didn’t let all this,” he gestures to the hospital halls, rooms lined with crash carts and nurses in scrubs, “trip you up.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, the weight of everything slipping away as he sinks against the wall, Tommy going with him. “Easier to do it a-all at once.”

“I’m sure it’s not easy, but…” Eddie says, leaning against the wall beside Buck. “You seem really happy.”

Buck turns and his smile widens, tears shining in his eyes, the brightness in them dimming the last of the worry. The ache in Eddie’s chest softens at the sight.

“I am,” he says.

Eddie glances between Buck and Tommy and it’s hard to stop the smile spreading up his own cheeks. Buck’s hand is laced lightly with Tommy’s, thumb brushing absentmindedly over his knuckles.

Tommy’s a good guy – and Buck’s the best guy Eddie knows – seeing them together like this makes so much sense, Eddie’s shocked he didn’t realize it sooner himself.

“And,” he nudges Buck, “Now everyone knows. You can bitch about him leaving towels on the ground at work like you always do.”

Buck elbows him a little harder this time. “I don’t always bitch at work.”

Eddie smirks and puts his hands up, “Then how do I know everything about the way your exes left their towels around?”

“It’s not…that’s–”

“Taylor uses three towels for one shower, Eddie. And then she gets another one to wash her face!” Eddie says in his best impersonation of Buck. “I got this fancy new apartment and there’s three places to hang towels in my bathroom, Eddie. Three! And Ali just–”

“Okay,” Buck concedes, laughing himself now. “Okay, yes. Fine. I like towels to be dry, sue me.”

“It’s a thing, Buck,” Eddie says.

“It’s not a thing, it’s normal!” Buck replies without pause.

“It’s definitely a thing,” Tommy mumbles from beside Buck, pinching Buck’s ribs and sinking deeper into his shoulder. “You already yelled at me for using the wrong hook the other–”

“It was the one farthest one from the shower, Tommy!” Buck scoffs, looking to Eddie for support.

Eddie offers none, just laughs and leans over Buck to tell Tommy. “It’s his weirdest thing. That and the other thing – with gum.”

Tommy cracks one eye open and furrows his brow. “What about gum?”

Before Eddie has a chance to explain, pain spikes up his shin and he hisses, glancing to see Buck’s foot collide with it again. “Ow, jeez Buck.”

“Shut up,” Buck grits out. “I have no things.”

“Well,” Tommy smirks, “You have one thing.”

Eddie can’t let it pass by, seizing the moment and saying, “Yeah, the towel thing.”

“I’m leaving,” Buck says and starts to shove Tommy off him and slip from between them. Tommy wraps his arms around him and holds him in place with a playful whine.

“No, no, no,” he says, “We were kidding. Come back, Evan. Please, you’re so warm.”

“You were just surrounded by fire for twenty-four hours, how could you possibly want to be warm?”

Eddie inhales and takes the opportunity, standing and turning toward the couple. “I’m gonna take off. I gotta relieve Abuela so she can sleep in her own bed.”

His head’s pounding and he’s pretty sure the sweat collecting at his temple isn’t because of the weather. He was fine this morning, but there’s been a slow, creeping roll of nausea in his gut, and every so often a shiver courses through him despite the warm air drifting in through the windows.

Now he’s curled up on the top of his bed, half on, half off his favorite pair of jeans. Jeans at this point he’d rather die than actually wear, and staring at the ceiling while the room tilts.

Tommy’s supposed to pick him up in an hour.

Last time Tommy was here, Buck kissed him.

Or, rather, Tommy kissed Buck.

And Buck hasn’t stopped thinking about it since.

Maybe that’s the problem – maybe it’s just nerves, that’s all this is. The nausea is only butterflies mistaken for panic, headache formed from clenching his jaw too tight, anxiety holding him hostage.  

Another shiver courses through him.

Yeah, no. Wishful thinking.

Buck can practically see the temperature before he even checks, reading out a fever he’d be hard-pressed to deny. He groans, shifts.

As much as he wants to push through – and he knows he could, he’s been through a hell of a lot worse – the thought of sitting in a crowded restaurant, surrounded by noise and heat and the smell of oregano and stale beer, makes his stomach turn so violently he reaches for the trash can.

When he rolls over to grab his phone, a wave of dizziness washes over him and he freezes, suddenly grateful he’s already horizontal and doesn’t have to navigate the staircase any time soon.

His thread with Tommy is already long – messages stacked with jokes, half-told work stories, pictures already littering the feed. Buck spares a breath to admire the one he stuck on the contact photo – a cropped image from one with his co-pilot – smile warm and broad, caught in the glow of a setting sun.

BUCK: Hey – hate to do this but I came down with something. Rain check?

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must’ve, because the buzz of his phone startles him awake.

TOMMY: Of course. Need anything?

Buck huffs a weak laugh, thumbs moving slower than usual.

BUCK: A new body? One without a foot in the grave, preferably. TOMMY: On it. I’ve got someone in mind but he’s bald. Dealbreaker? BUCK: Yeah, cancel that order. BUCK: I’m good though. Gonna sleep it off. TOMMY: Ok. Feel better.

Buck smiles at Tommy’s last message, face heating for reasons other than the fever. He still can’t believe Tommy wants anything to do with him – the jealousy that ran rampant in his chest soothed and smug at the thought.

When he starts to doze this time, the smile that clings to his cheeks sticks around until he’s out.

******

Tommy shouldn’t be here – he knows that.

Standing in the lobby of Evan’s building, it’s even nicer than he remembers – all sharp edges and dark metal.

The elevator barely makes noise as it carries him to Evan’s floor, but his mind certainly doesn’t have a problem filling in the quiet.

This is ridiculous, he tells himself, showing up at a practical stranger’s apartment. Arms full of takeout and a very questionable amount of over-the-counter medication. He’s aware, on a fundamental level, that this is…a lot.

They’ve been on exactly one almost-date.

When the cab stops on a floor beneath Evan’s and the doors slide open, he debates getting out and taking the stairs back out to his truck. Pretending this never happened and calling it a day.  

It’s too much, too soon. He’s gonna think Tommy’s weird. Tommy is weird for this.

Then he thinks about Evan’s smile – bright, earnest, and so damn adorable – and his feet stay planted.

Eddie and Howie can’t say enough nice things about him, pride always layered with half-teasing and eye rolling. That Evan’s loyal and funny and “pretty smart even though he doesn’t seem like it sometimes.” Christopher bragged about their trips to the zoo and the aquarium and how Evan saved him in a goddamn tsunami.

And what’s Tommy supposed to do? Tommy can’t just leave him alone, sick and miserable, when he was supposed to be out having a good night.

He’d do this for anyone. At least he tells himself that when he raps on the door gently.

There’s the sound of feet tripping and a quiet thump, followed by a muffled curse that makes Tommy grin despite himself – and the clunk of the deadbolt.

And then there’s Evan.

Cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with fever, wrapped in sweats with a throw blanket tossed over his shoulder. He stares, confused, blinking and then starts to shut the door like he’s looking for a camera or an alternate reality, before it swings back open and his gaze lands back on Tommy.

“Evan,” Tommy says gently. “Sorry to just show up but…can I – do you mind if I come in? You look like you’re gonna tip over.”

It takes another beat for  Evan to respond, but he shuffles back and mumbles, “T-Tommy you’re…why are you here? I thought I text–”

“You did,” Tommy says, already stepping inside and heading for the kitchen. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He sets everything down, grabs a glass, fills it with water.

“I don’t have a replacement body,” he adds, glancing back, “but I brought options.”

He nods at the table and Evan sits while Tommy carries over the glass, filled with water, and a stack of medications. He still looks like he’s lagging – like Tommy being here hasn’t quite caught up with his fever-addled brain yet.

He looks miserable and it makes Tommy’s heart ache a little.

“Maybe this will help,” he says, softer now.

Evan obeys, tipping pills to palm and swallowing them down all while tracking Tommy. He’s at the counter again, unpacking chicken noodle soup and sourdough, opening drawers until he finds a spoon.

Evan’s started to sink in his chair and is leaning against his hand, propped up by his elbow on the table. There’s heavy, dark circles under his eyes and Tommy can see the slight sheen of sweat across his skin every time he shifts in the setting sun.

Somehow, he still looks radiant.

Tommy fills a small bowl with soup and tears a piece of bread, tucking it against the side on a plate. He grabs that and the water and nudges Evan, who follows easily, as Tommy leads them to the living room. He sinks into the couch, pillow propping him up.

Steam curls from the dish as Evan reaches for it, humming softly when he pulls it to his face.

“You didn’t have t-to do this,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, but then what would I do tonight?” Tommy shoots back, glancing over with a small grin. “I was supposed to be on a date.”

Evan’s mouth twitches, a blush creeping in as he takes a spoonful of soup.

“Thank you,” he says. “This is, uh, this is really good.”

“Peggy’s Diner,” Tommy replies. “Near mine – best comfort food.”

“Consider me comforted,” Evan says sweetly, blanket tucked around him, soup balanced carefully in his lap.

“Movie?” Tommy offers.

“Dinner and a show,” Evan says as he takes a bite of his bread. Tommy’s glad to see he’s eating – he definitely looks like he can use the energy.

“Not a rain check,” Tommy says, settling at the other end of the couch. “Just…do-it-yourself.”

Evan nods, watching him scroll through options, stealing glances when he thinks Tommy won’t notice. He definitely notices.

It’s sweet, and Tommy knows he’s already half-gone for the kid – and really, who could blame him?

When Evan finishes what he can of the soup, Tommy reaches for the bowl and sets it on the table, skin brushing. Evan takes the opportunity to scoot closer and Tommy doesn’t stop him. Instead, he reaches for a blanket on the chair beside him and spreads it out.

Evan slides in when Tommy extends his arm, tucking into Tommy’s side. He covers them both in the blanket and it settles as they do.

The movie’s already fifteen minutes in, but Tommy struggles thinking of a single character’s name let alone any part of the plot.

Evan’s warm, gently pressed against Tommy’s shoulder, still uncertain but the pull of one another is so strong, neither can resist.

As Evan starts to nod off, he tips closer and hums when Tommy presses him against his ribs. Tommy’s fingers move without thinking, brushing lightly down his arm, slow and steady.

Evan’s breath starts to even out and Tommy can hear the soft rumble of a gentle snore that comes from his parted lips when Evan finally drifts.

It’s intimate in an entirely different way than his usual first dates, but it feels right.

There isn’t much Tommy wouldn’t do for his friends, but when he looks down at Evan it seems like there’s nothing that would get in the way.

It’s terrifying.

It’s equally thrilling.

Tommy leans his head back, letting the quiet settle around them.

The bitter taste of black coffee still sits on his tongue but just beneath it is the taste of Evan after a kiss – brief but sinfully delicious. Tommy meant it when he said he didn’t want to pressure Evan. He’d been through that song and dance before, and it never ended well.

A man just a little too anxious falling too hard, too fast. Tommy, on one side or the other, heart broken or breaking hearts at the tail end of a flame that burned too bright too soon.

But he’s not above admitting he’s glad Evan called. That he showed up and stayed. Somewhere between the awkward start and the easy conversation, riding on nerves and shared laughter and a wedding invitation, something changed.

Tommy hasn’t felt this way in a long time – the giddiness of a new relationship, the promise of something exciting, the way his heart thumps rapidly every time he even looks at Evan. It’ll either hurt like hell or be something real, and at this point, he forces himself away from cynicism, opens himself up to possibility.

If Evan can risk it, so can he.

He spots Evan near the edge of the lot and stops, eyes lingering on his broad frame. He’s haloed in the dipping sunlight, leaned against his Jeep. The sun’s catching in his hair, turning it into something warm and bright. Honey and amber and unfairly soft edges for a guy built like that.

Tommy starts to walk toward him, circling around another car – then he hears Evan’s voice. Tommy’d been so distracted by the shape of him, by the way he inhabits the world that he hadn’t noticed the phone at first. Too busy noticing…everything else.

“I-It went well, I think. He said he’d come to the wedding,” Evan says, and the way the word lilts up at the end proves he’s smiling when he says it.

There’s a brief pause and Tommy knows he should stop – stop listening, interrupt the call or retreat, leave Evan to the clearly private conversation he’s having with his sister.

“Thanks for inviting him,” Evan continues, softer now. “I think yo-you’re really gonna like him. I’m glad he’s giving me another chance.”

Tommy can’t help but lean a little closer – try to catch the impression he’d left and if it’s anything close to the one Evan left on him. Somehow, he doubts it.

“Tell Chim he’s my date – he’s already marrying you,” Evan adds, a little louder, and Tommy has to bite back a laugh. “Hey! Yes, he’s still cool even though he wants to date me.”

There’s another pause and Tommy can hear a jolt of muffled laughter through the phone even from the other aisle and he grins. He knows that laugh – happy to know Howie’s sense of humor hasn’t changed.

“I don’t know, Mads. I-It seems like…” he sighs and Tommy leans in closer still, tries to hear every breath between each word. “He’s really sweet. He’s…he’s gonna be good for me.”

The words leave Tommy breathless.

Good for him.

He isn’t good for anyone – not according to his deadbeat dad. His mom couldn’t even stick around long enough to find out; she made sure his rot didn’t infect her before he’d even turned one.

Evan is…he’s so charming, and bright and open and he cares so much about the people in his life. Tommy’s sure of it – he made it a point to find out.

Eddie brags about him like he raised the guy himself, and Christopher’s no different. Howie, never one to be serious, makes sure to talk about how much good he does for the people around him and his eyes shimmer with a soft kind of pride every time he does.

There’re endless articles about him and the heroic saves he’s made, putting his life on the line without question – and Captain Nash is quoted as saying he’s a great kid and incredible firefighter.

Tommy’s spent half his life pretending to be someone else just to get by and jerks off to Paul Hollywood sometimes.

Still, when Evan says it, it feels possible. If there’s ever someone that can finally pull him out of the worst parts of his past – make him want to be a better man – it’s Evan.

So he does the first decent thing that comes to mind. He backs up, quietly, and gives Evan the privacy he should’ve had from the start.

Tommy ducks back into the coffee shop, grabs a couple sugar packets on instinct, then heads out again like nothing happened. By the time he reaches the Jeep, Evan’s just ending the call.

“Evan!”

Evan looks up and smiles that goddamn adorable smile at him. Tommy holds up the wallet, and Evan immediately pats his pockets, eyes going wide before relief floods his face.

“Oh my god, thank you,” Evan says when Tommy reaches him and hands it over, warmth blooming where their fingers brush.

“Guess it fell out of your pocket,” Tommy says, inching closer. “Good thing you didn’t get far.”

“Y-Yeah,” Evan laughs, a little breathless. “I was just, uh, finishing a-a call.

Tommy hums and opens the door of the Jeep for Evan. Evan blushes, dipping his chin, and climbs in, smiling up at Tommy like he’d done something special.

And Tommy’s been there too. A sense of freedom that comes with knowing you can be treated well, doted on. Taken care of.

It melts the worry away as easily as it crept in, and Tommy might be selfish for asking, but as he’s gotten older, he’s slowly realizing its worth the trouble.

“A little sugar for the road?” Tommy asks with a wink, leaning in.

Evan doesn’t hesitate, nods so fast he looks like a bobblehead, meeting Tommy halfway.

Tommy waits.

Right until Evan closes his eyes–

–and slips the sugar packet between their lips instead.

Evan blinks, startled, then laughs, leaning back as Tommy holds it up like a prize. He takes it and rolls his eyes, leans back in for an actual kiss and Tommy doesn’t tease him twice. It’s already near-impossible to say no to the guy.

“Dork,” Evan murmurs with a grin and Tommy feels something settle he didn’t realize was out of place. A piece of himself so calm, it loosens the tension in his chest like grains of sand with a turn of the tide.

He smiles and shuts the door as Evan turns over the engine. The window rolls down with a soft whir and Tommy feels like he’s in high school again, biting his lip as he says goodbye to his best friend after class – the one he shared his own first kiss with.

Or – the first kiss that mattered anyway.

“Home safe,” Tommy tells him and Evan nods. Tommy doesn’t resist leaning in for one last kiss and Evan doesn’t seem to mind, humming into it until they part.

“I’ll see you soon,” Evan says with a smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “You will.”