annepi

His leg is fucked, but he doesn't think of it as a hindrance. It's a challenge. He's been chomping at the bit for a challenge he actually has a chance at overcoming.

A couple of the message boards he used to advertise on are still in service. He brushes up on the terminology and lists an ad. Worst case scenario, no one responds. He doesn't mention his leg.

He gets a couple of messages, but what they want isn't something he can do. The things they allude to wanting requires a level of mobility Buck doesn't currently have. He politely declines and says it's not possible.

It's only after talking to a couple of people, that he thinks about the logistics. He can't really go anywhere. A hotel would be safer, but that's a lot of hassle and a lot of money, if he gets stood up. After a few more people reach out, he removes the listing, and tries to accept that now isn't the right time. Maybe he can do what normal people do and find a girlfriend down the line, who will let him.

The listing has been down for a while, when he gets a message. The person contacting him must have saved his information. They go back and forth for a bit. It's a man, which isn't that unusual, Buck didn't specify, but it would be new for him. He's never had sex with a man, which is what he's asking for. He worked for a sex line, back in the day, where he got a lot of men. He's done some hand and mouth stuff, too, when he really needed money, but it's usually been a means to an end. This would be different.

It's an intriguing offer. The guy is clearly in the market for a normal sex worker, but Buck can see the logic in how he ended up contacting Buck. The guy hasn't had sex with a man before and he wants detailed instructions.

Before he says yes, Buck mentions having had surgery, so his mobility is limited. The guy says it's not a problem. Buck is already fifty steps ahead, when he says yes.

He tells himself the safety aspect is fine. It's not worse than a dating app. And he'll only do it once.

Buck spends a couple of days planning. He writes out a couple of different scripts, so he has something to lean on. He'll need help to get around, but if he plays it right, it could be hot. In Buck's head, it's very hot, but he can always play it off as strictly practical, if the guy isn't into it.

On the day of the appointment, Buck makes a call to Maddie and explains he's inviting a date over. Maddie is least likely to ask questions, and most likely to understand the safety concerns. Maddie asks him to say less, but she'll check in later.

He sets the scene as well as he can, and takes a seat at the dining table. His crutches are within reach, the door is unlocked, so he doesn't have to get up, and his phone is in his pocket.

Buck tries to manage his excitement a bit, but once the guy enters, all of that goes out the window. The guy closes the door behind him and leans against it, looking scared out of his mind.

”Hi.”

”Hi,” Buck smiles. He uses his good leg to push a chair out from the table. He can tell the guy's knees are about to buckle, which only makes him smile more.

The guy drops into the chair. His upper lip glistens with sweat.

”Nervous?”

”Uh-huh,” he nods.

”I'm Evan.”

”Tommy.”

”Hi, Tommy.” He watches Tommy glance behind him, at the crutches, then take in the sight of Buck's body. He seems interested, more than nervous. His interest in men is occupational, but Tommy is a very attractive man. ”Still wanna do this?”

Tommy clears his throat. ”Yes.”

”Good.” Tommy eyes turn sharp. ”Take off your shoes. Put them somewhere out of the way.”

Tommy looks around and finds the shoe rack. He bends down and tugs his laces free. Boots in hand, he gets up from the chair and puts them on the floor infront of the rack. He comes back and sits down.

”Good,” Buck says again, just too see Tommy's reaction. It's subtle. A twitch in the shoulders. ”You want to get straight to it, or do you want to talk first?”

He watches Tommy's throat bob. ”No talking.”

Buck chuckles. He grabs the chair he's sitting on, raises his bad leg, and scooches the chair further away from the table. Tommy's hands are in the air immediately, hovering. It's an interesting reflex, but Buck doesn't ask. Maybe he has an elderly family member he's close with.

”On the floor.”

Tommy blinks. It takes a second, then the meaning sinks in and he's slipping off his own chair, eyes not leaving Buck's face. Buck pats his thigh. Tommy is beginning to flush. He licks his lips and shuffles forward on his knees, until he can put his chin on Buck's knee. His eyes look beautiful and attentive in the moodlighting Buck had managed to create.

Buck gently strokes Tommy's hair back from his forehead. Tommy's eyes pinch closed. There's emotion in the tension in his brows. Based on the messages they've been exchanging, he expects some amount of fear or apprehension, but so far so good.

”I won't be asking,” Buck says, ”but that doesn't mean you can't say no.”

Tommy looks up at him, but doesn't speak. Buck curls his fingers in the hair on the back of Tommy's neck, and pulls him forward. It's gentle enough that Tommy can stop it easily, but he doesn't. He lets Buck pull his face into his crotch. Buck would've liked to dress nice for the occasion, but his leg is still stiff. He's wearing his nicest sweatpants. He feels Tommy exhale heavily through the fabric.

”Good?”

Tommy nods. Buck pets his hair for a moment.

”I want us to be on the same page, so I will ask some clarifying questions.” Another nod. ”You want to have sex with me.” Nod. ”Penetrative sex.” Nod. ”You want to be on the receiving end of the penetration.” Nod.

Buck smiles at his lap. It's sweet, even though it probably feels like hell for Tommy. ”Did you clean yourself before you got here?” He gets another nod. ”Did you prepare yourself?” That gets a careful shake of the head. ”Do you want to do it by yourself, or do you want to do it with me?”

He's clearly unhappy about having to use words, but Tommy lifts his head just enough to speak, ”I want you to tell me how.”

”Tell you or do it for you?”

Tommy meets his eyes. ”If you can, I'd like you to do it for me.”

Buck brushes over Tommy's cheek with his thumb. ”We'll see how I feel when we get there.” Tommy nods again. ”My bed is upstairs.”

Tommy pulls his head away from Buck's hand, to look around. He clearly hadn't seen anything on his way in.

”I also have a couch, but I prefer the bed.” He knows Tommy won't say what he prefers, but he presents the option anyway. ”I can do it myself, but I'd like you to help me up the stairs. Can you do that?”

Tommy is on his feet, hands open and offered, before the question is out of his mouth. ”What do you need?”

Buck smiles. His bad leg can support his weight decently well these days, but it's uncomfortable. His physical therapist says it's a mental thing; that he doesn't trust that the leg can support him. In any case, Buck lets Tommy pull him up from the chair, and raises his arm. Tommy knows what he's doing. He's solidly in Buck's armpit, holding on to Buck's hand, his other arm wrapped around Buck's waist. Slowly, they walk to the stairs. Unnecessarily slow, but it feels more secure that way. Tommy watches closely, as Buck holds onto the handrail. Together, they ascend the stairs and Buck is carefully lowered onto his bed.

Flatteringly, Tommy is still hard after all that.

”Take off your clothes.”

It takes a moment for Tommy to react. He looks around the space, and spots a place to put his clothes. He's efficient about it. He turns his back, but Buck figures it's about doing the task, not about purposely hiding his body.

”Do you want to take mine off, too?”

”Yes.”

Buck's autonomy is hard won and he's more than able, but the way Tommy handles him feels good. There's a reverence to it. Fleetingly, Buck thinks he wouldn't mind being worshipped for a little bit.

Tommy takes off his clothes, and helps him lie down. All his supplies are within easy reach, so when they're both naked, Buck urges him onto the bed. He puts his hands on his stomach, indicating the spot, ”I want you to straddle me.”

Tommy looks at himself, then Buck. ”You sure?”

”I can take you.”

Tommy's flush spreads down his chest, as he mounts Buck's torso. He's heavy, but nothing Buck can't handle.

Buck grabs a condom and hands it over. ”Put this on. I'm not cleaning up after you.”

Tommy makes a shaky little sound. He fumbles the condom a couple of times. First it falls from his fingers, then the wrapper won't tear, but he gets there. After the condom is on, he gives himself a tight squeeze at the base.

”Have you touched yourself before?” Tommy nods. Buck grabs the lube, then Tommy's hand. He squirts lube onto Tommy's fingers and holds onto his hand for a moment. ”Go slow. We've got time.”

Tommy nods again. When Buck releases his hand, Tommy reaches behind himself. Buck watches his face closely. His face doesn't say much, but he's sufficiently distracted. Buck is in the tail end of his meds. They don't always kill his sex drive, but he's slower than he used to be. Having Tommy on his stomach shields his dick from prying eyes, and makes Tommy's body more accessible to his hands.

Tommy's dick bobs between them and Tommy holds on to every word, so Buck is feeling pretty confident. He strokes Tommy's thighs, as lightly as he can. It earns him another shaky sound, as Tommy's thighs close around Buck's ribs.

”Getting somewhere?”

Tommy's arm stops flexing. He breathes for a second, before resting his hand on his thigh. Three of his fingers are glistening.

”Great job,” it lands a little more first responder, than dom, but it still makes Tommy shiver. ”My turn.” Buck grabs the lube and reaches behind Tommy's back. He shifts forward a little, making Buck's reach around less strenuous. He circles Tommy's hole, checking the tension, but he feels remarkably relaxed. Two fingers go inside easy.

”Alright, big guy – ” Tommy makes a sound and clenches up. Buck holds still and eyes him a little. He says it again, ”Alright, big guy, you wanna come before or after?” Tommy clenches again.

Tommy tries to breathe, but his whole body shakes on the exhale. ”I'm not sure I can choose.”

”Fair enough,” Buck says. He pushes the full length of his fingers inside, to see what happens. Tommy's knees dig into the sides of his ribs, and he stops breathing. He's more gentle as he pulls out.

With Tommy's eyes closed, Buck reaches for his own dick, checking the firmness. He's not all the way there, but he's close. It's good enough for now. He touches Tommy's thighs again, trying to get him present.

”Still up for it?”

Tommy nods. ”Please.”

Buck wipes his hand on his stomach, and grabs a condom and the lube. ”You get to do this part.”

Tommy blinks at the items. ”What?”

”Why would I do it myself when you're here?” He pushes them into Tommy's hands.

Tommy drops the lube. He would've dropped the condom, too, if the wrapper didn't stick to his sweaty chest. He climbs (falls) off Buck's chest and just stares at his dick for a bit. ”Can I touch?”

”Go for it.”

Tommy reaches out and curls his fingers around Buck's dick. Buck puts his hands behind his head and tries to not to say anything stupid. Tommy's hand feels good. As uncertain as he looks, his touch isn't. It's tight and warm. Tommy strokes him for a moment, just watching his own hand touch Buck. It's flattering.

Buck wonders what brought him here. Wonders why Tommy would rather pay for something like this, instead of going out and meeting someone. He's a handsome guy. Very polite. By all accounts he seems normal. Maybe a bit shy.

”Ready?”

Tommy huffs a little laugh. ”No.” He grabs the condom anyway. He knows what he's doing, but he's very particular about putting it on, as if putting a condom on someone for the first time is something worth remembering.

He does the same thing with the lube, then asks about Buck's leg.

”As long as you don't reach behind you and try to brace on my knees, you're fine.”

Tommy is careful when he swings his leg over Buck's lap. He keeps an eye on his own foot, careful to keep it away from Buck's leg. He hovers there for a second, above Buck. When nothing happens, Buck takes over.

”Put your hands here,” he pulls Tommy's hands to his own chest, wanting to feel the weight of him. Tommy leans forward, fingers spreading for better purchase. ”Sit, I've got it.”

Tommy looks at him warily, but lowers his body slowly. Buck uses both hands to find his target, without too much fumbling. He watched Tommy's face, as he sinks into his body.

Tommy is the one in control. Buck is lying flat on his back, he has very little leverage. Tommy turns his face into his own shoulder, hiding his expression, as he moves his hips back. When he's confident he won't slip back out, Buck moves his hands to Tommy's hips and waits it out.

Tommy's breathing changes. It comes a little faster, a little wetter. He moves one hand to his lower abdomen. He won't be able to feel anything, but Buck gets the sentiment. Sort of.

Tommy shifts a little and starts moving. It's a grinding motion, slowly back and forth. At first, he's barely moving at all, but he builds up to longer strokes, face still turned away.

Buck doesn't know what to do with it. They don't know each other, so he doesn't know what Tommy needs. He keeps his hands where they are, so Tommy can feel he's there. Most of Tommy's weight is balanced on one hand. As Tommy picks up the pace, Buck grunts a little. It makes Tommy look at him.

His eyes go round and he quickly plants a hand on the bed, on either side of Buck's shoulders. It brings their faces closer together. Neither one of them brought up kissing, at any point. Buck didn't think it would be relevant, but he wishes one of them did. He wants to kiss Tommy.

”How's it feel?”

”Good,” Tommy huffs a smile. ”Really good.” He moves a little faster for emphasis.

Maybe the pain meds are a good thing. Or maybe it's the lack of attraction to men. Whatever it is, it's keeping Buck's attention away from his dick, and on Tommy's face. It's a good face. Expressive, when he allows it to be.

Tommy rides him until he can't anymore. He keeps stopping, clenching, then going for a moment, then stopping and clenching again.

”You can come, if you want.”

Tommy scoffs. Shivers. Scoffs again. ”Then it's over.”

”That's how sex works.”

Tommy glares at him for half a second, before he trembles again. He hasn't touched his dick once.

Buck belatedly remembers he's supposed to be in charge. He grabs Tommy by the face and tells him to come. Tommy makes a wounded sound and somehow manages to keep eye contact, while he comes.

Buck is suddenly very aware of his own dick, and comes just moments later.

They blink at each other in surprise. Tommy smiles and Buck laughs. There's a pack of wet wipes somewhere, but Buck doesn't reach for it. Tommy carefully dismounts and lies down.

”Pretty good for a first time, right?” Buck asks, amused by the double entendre.

”If I could leave a review, you'd get a great one.”

”Aww,” he nudges Tommy in the side. ”Thank you, I appreciate that. Did we tick all the boxes, or do we need to meet again?”

He's not sure what it is about today especially, but he's been wanting to grab Evan and make out with him more than usual. Getting to do more sounds perfect.

“Let's go,” Evan says, all but shoving him back and grabbing the water bottle. He also snags their backpacks and walks off the path and up the slope next to them, Tommy hot on his heels.

There's a tree partway up the slope that's got a nearly hollowed trunk trunk from an old fire, and Tommy yanks Evan inside and looks around the edge to make sure no one's come by while they were walking. It's clear, and he ducks back in to kiss Evan, pressing him against the smoothed wood.

“Should take you cruising, fuck you up against a tree and let anyone else think they've got a chance,” Tommy murmurs, untying the drawstrings on the hiking joggers Evan is wearing and pushing his hand inside to rub him through his underwear. He's already hard, and Tommy works to get him wet at the tip. It doesn't take much, not when Evan is pushed up against something and panting against Tommy's cheek.

“Y-yeah,” Evan pants, grinding against his hand. He tugs at Tommy's shirt and pulls it up, and Tommy tugs the front behind his head so he doesn't have to worry about taking it off completely. Evan laughs softly and pushes him back a little to get his mouth on one of Tommy's nipples, his fingers kneading Tommy's pec.

Tommy arches into the feeling and is about to fumble his own pants open when Evan’s hands get there first. He pulls Tommy's hiking pants down to his thighs along with his underwear and gets on his knees, looking up at him as he goes.

Instead of sucking him off, Evan spits in his hand and wraps it around Tommy's cock, stroking slowly. He jerks Tommy off while he mouths at his stomach and hip and the seam of his groin, breathing in deep there and shuddering happily. Tommy sees the bulge in his joggers and feels his mouth warer.

“Get your cock out, baby.” Tommy watches him pull his own pants down enough to do as he's told, and Tommy wants to taste him so bad. Evan’s cock is so fucking pretty and long. Pink at the tip like his lips, flushed darker past his circumcision scar, always wet when he's hard.

“Fuck, Daddy,” Evan groans before licking a line from between Tommy's balls to the tip of his cock. He sucks Tommy with extra spit until it's dripping down his chin and throat, and when he takes him so deep that Tommy has to dig his nails into his palms so he won't thrust, he tips his head back a little and looks up at him with glazed blue eyes.

Tommy reaches down and rubs his thumb across Evan's cheekbone, letting him set the pace. He does gently thrust into Evan’s mouth a few times and pants softly as Evan just takes it. He brings his other hand up to his pecs, squeezing before he pinches and tugs at one of his nipples.

He does hear chattering and a few laughs from down the slope, probably the small group of friends they'd bumped into at a rest point a couple miles back. They'd been nice, swapping recent trail stories until Tommy and Evan went ahead so the group could eat their lunch. One of the women had definitely been flirting with Evan, but Evan had been oblivious to it, choosing to tease Tommy about his reserve of biodegradable wipes instead while Evan dug through his bag for the sunscreen.

“Shh,” Tommy hushes as Evan sucks him. “They'll hear you.”

Evan's eyes roll back briefly, and Tommy watches him wrap both hands around himself. He knows Evan would be embarrassed to get caught in most situations, but the idea of it always makes him shiver and moan and leak even more precum. His boy is an exhibitionist through and through, it can't be helped and Tommy wouldn't try anyway.

He keeps sucking Tommy, not being as sloppy with it until the sound of the group fades into the distance. Then he's choking on him, working his mouth and throat and then his hand until Tommy's gripping his curls and cumming in his mouth. Evan pulls back, his tongue out to show Tommy the cum sitting on his tongue. Tommy swears and grabs his chin, bending to spit directly onto the mess.

Evan moans and swallows it all, pressing his face to Tommy's hip and finishing on the ground.

When Tommy pulls the wipes out of his pack a moment later, Evan laughs softly.

“Any complaints this time?” Tommy asks, passing one to him for his hands.

Evan kisses his hip and wipes his hands before Tommy helps him up. He nuzzles a kiss against his lips and smiles, cheeky and bright. “No complaints.”

—

—

world 1: tommy couldn't decide what to do after he got out of the army. part of him wanted to carry on flying, but the part of him that was riddled with panic attacks and the shakes and insomnia and a startle reflex off the fucking scale all the other fun ptsd souvenirs made that not a great idea. he goes to college instead. turns out, when he's not focused on Doing Masculinity via sports and having terrible friends and he's not distracted by the dumpster fire of his home life and has a little distance from his dad telling him how fucking stupid he is? tommy's pretty smart.

he never, not in a million years, would have thought dr. tommy kinard was in his future but here he is, eighteen months into his phd program in aerospace engineering, and happier than he ever thought was on the cards for him. he works in the library as one of the approximately seventeen things he does to try to have an income that keeps him afloat. it's there that he meets possibly the hottest guy he's ever seen in real life. he has a bunch of paper clutched in his hand and he's looking at tommy with an intensity that almost makes him wonder if they know each other. except he's sure he'd remember if he'd hooked up with this guy, or even just seen him around.

he introduces himself as buck and says he's looking for some sources, shows tommy a series of neatly written lists. he's weirdly charmed by the way they're written out - all caps, journal names underlined instead of in italics, page references in square brackets. several of them even have the doi written out by hand. they're a baffling mix of theoretical physics, aerospace engineering and fire science. they start well enough, and tommy locates a handful of sources before he hits a brick wall. the dois lead to the wrong source, the journal either flat-out doesn't exist, or was only launched three years after the source is dated.

buck swears up and down that he wrote them out right, and that he didn't get them from a fucking llm, and tommy's inclined to believe him. he looks way more upset about it than tommy thinks is really warranted. he tells himself that's why he offers for buck to leave the list with him and let him do some digging. buck blinks hard a couple of times and maybe it's just the air-con in the library, but he looks like he's holding back tears when he says no thanks.

"see you around," tommy says hopefully.

"yeah, maybe," buck says, his back already turned, his shoulders tight. "that'd be nice."

world 8: tommy didn't expect to end up at the galactic database. he thought he'd be a starpilot until he died. but sometimes the radiation leak doesn't kill you, and sometimes they don't fix you in time and you end up in this weird in-between. totally fine in almost every regard, but your reaction times? juuuust fucked up enough that no one is gonna let you at the console of a ship ever again. the database isn't the worst place he could have ended up, all things considered.

he meets people, checks for contraindications, gets them settled in one of the biochairs, makes sure the headset sits comfortably, hits the download buttons, gives them a glass of juice after, and a free cookie if it's been an especially intense download. it's not the most exciting way to fill his time, but it does fill his time.

and then the most beautiful man he's ever seen arrives at the help desk and asks for the wildest combination of downloads tommy's ever heard of. he finds a few of them - a crazy mix of ancient 21st century myths, advanced shielding technology theory, and chemistry so far out of tommy's area of expertise that he can feel his eyes glazing over just looking at it. but the majority are a mystery. and it's the galactic database, for crying out loud. if tommy can't find it, it doesn't exist. the guy (buck, he says. it does not match the name on his id chip, but tommy's not a cop, he really doesn't care) looks resigned and says, "whatever you have is fine."

he accepts the juice and the cookie with a smile that tommy thinks must break hearts from here to alpha centauri.

world 19: tommy's mother brought him to the citadel when he was twelve and since then he has spent his whole life in the same three rooms. one where he sleeps, one where he eats and exercises, and one where he works. only the second has a window, and he spends an hour each day looking out of it. far, far below at the base of the tower he can see people coming and going, living lives that aren't defined by the shape of the stone walls around them. he sees carts and animals, columns of soldiers, knights on horseback, and very occasionally, a wandering mage. he knows they're here for him. well. they're here for what he can produce.

tommy doesn't have magic, but he can read it and that's even rarer. it's why his rooms are so comfortable. why the food they bring him is so delicious. why the servants who see to his needs are so deferential. why he will be brought anything he requests from the citadel library. and it's why will never be able to leave.

buck pov interstitial: he's losing his mind. this is the worst thing that's ever happened to a person. so many versions of tommy, in so many different worlds, with so many different experiences, and they all have the same fucking smile, the same way of quirking an eyebrow that makes buck feel like he knows them. every few hops he thinks about just staying. he could make a life with the tommy who reads books to children in the tiny small-town library in illinois, or the tommy who's a pirate captain with a jealously guarded chest of scrolls, or the tommy who oversees the direct-to-cortex downloads, or the tommy with ink-stained fingers who spent his whole life making copies of old books of lore and mythology. but he's getting closer. he knows he is. he can go home to his tommy if he just keeps trying.

world 326: tommy wishes he could say he didn't know how he ended up here. but he does. it was a toss of a coin. a different day and some other dumb kid who joined up for lack of other options would have been piloting the chopper when the silver oval appeared from nowhere and matched pace with him for the most nerve-jangling ten minutes of his life. the suits had been waiting for him by the time he landed. the part of him that watched too many movies as a kid thought he was going to get black-bagged and...well. that's not a million miles away from what happened.

he'd expected to get disappeared in the shallow grave kind of way. instead, he'd gotten a crash course: aliens? yep. superheroes? sorta. magic? depends on your definition, private kinard. he'd asked hopefully about the memory wipe device from men in black, but no luck there. so now here he is, a decade later, earning decent money as a glorified receptionist at a black site. except instead of crimes against humanity, he's responsible for overseeing the security of Artefacts. it's always capitalised, in his own mind. Artefacts. it's the indiana jones warehouse, basically. he's not mad about it.

sometimes people show up to add to the collection. sometimes stuff gets removed. agents of various three letter agencies come and go. 10 year old tommy would have expected it to be a lot more exciting than it actually is.

he's working through his latest sudoku book when a guy arrives. it's not typical but it's also not unheard of for suits to show up alone. this one's new - new to the warehouse and unless tommy's much mistaken new to the kind of clearance level that would let him know about the warehouse. he has a hand-written list of the shelf references he's looking for and tommy raises his eyebrows. it's varied, to say the least. half of it is in the extra-terrestrial section, maybe another quarter in the terrestrial but extremely fucking classified section, and the rest just straight up doesn't exist.

tommy edges a little closer to the alarm as he points that out, but the guy just laughs and smiles a disarmingly pretty smile and says, "first trip. you know how they send the new guy out for a drill silencer and a long weight?"

"sure," tommy says, and lets himself return the smile.

the guy's back an hour later with his metal briefcase hanging a little heavier in his hand.

"see you around, agent buckley," tommy says.

"i sure hope so," the agent says.

world 0: buck holds his breath, counts the seconds, watches with aching, tired eyes for the very first wobble of the rotors on the helicopter. as soon as it lands he tosses the orb upwards and prays for the magic and the alien tech and the classified materials and the shielding technology from 2276 to work how he thinks it will.

the orb unfurls into a glimmering, glittering web of light that soars towards the helicopter and envelops it in a net made of buck's hopes and exhaustion and desperation. like a soap bubble, it's only visible from certain angles and like a soap bubble it floats down to the ground, tommy's helicopter held safe and secure within its grasp.

"what..." chim says.

"the hell..." hen adds.

buck is already running.

tommy is wide-eyed and baffled in the cockpit, his hands carefully held away from the cyclic.

"babe," he says. "you have got some explaining to do."

Finally, Butterbur has to kindly remind them that the inn does have to close, and if they wish, they can share a room to chat further, "if Master Dwarf doesn't mind a hobbit sized room, of course, though our hobbit rooms are generously sized for hobbits"

Tommy takes the offer and they do share a room, and they talk long into the night, Buck full of questions and Tommy happy to answer

In the morning they both yawn through a simple breakfast, and Tommy asks Buck what he is planning to do, so Buck answers that he wants to go "eastwards, perhaps? I once overheard Gandalf talking about the Misty Mountains and should like to see it for myself"

And Tommy is like, "you are a young hobbit out of the Shire for the very first time, you don't even have a weapon, and we will be crossing dangerous lands full of foes and wild creatures" and so he says he will go with Buck, and after that, they will come back to Bree, for the lands beyond the Misty Mountains are too dangerous for a dwarf and a hobbit to travel

"you came alone through those lands" Buck points out

"yes, and I have the scars to prove my point" Tommy replies, "and I should feel a lot better if we have some connexion with rangers that they know we are headed that way, and can come to our aid"

He doesn't like rangers that much — too similar to elves by far — but he understands them and their isolation, and Strider despite being a dour sort is also an honorable man who does tell Tommy to go ahead, there are rangers on the same trail "though they will not be your companions, for they have their own errands and purposes" so Tommy knows there is backup

Tommy makes sure his axes are sharp and they get a couple of good, sturdy ponies to carry food and gear, while Buck checks that he has his good pot and the seasonings he had wheedled out of Buckland's best cook, along with the stout iron tipped walking stick Bobby had given him

Anyway the hobbit and the dwarf do make it from Bree to Weathertop to Hollin to the Misty Mountains, and when Buck finally stands at the foot of the Redhorn, he stares up up up into its lofty, snow-clad peaks, and sighs.

"I am content" he tells Tommy, "as content as I have never been, and I believe I will never forget this moment, not to the end of my days, and all of it because you have been with me" and by then Tommy is certain he loves this strange young hobbit and he lets Buck know of his love, and Buck returns his affection as well

They are on the way back to Bree when Strider himself meets them on the road and tells them that Erebor has been retaken. "That dreadful worm is dead?" Tommy cannot believe the fools have indeed won the day

"Yea, but war gathers on the gates of the Lonely Mountain," Strider tells Tommy. "Have you the ear of Thorin or Dain? For they must see that strife between elves and men and dwarves will only please their enemies"

"Dwarves will protect what is theirs by right, and no longer will elves lay claim to the works crafted by dwarven hands," Tommy declares, and Strider is displeased but says no more. Only in the quiet of their own camp does Buck ask why dwarves and elves hate each other, so Tommy relays the story of the petty-dwarves hunted to near extinction in the first age, the Silmaril and Thingol who denied them their craft-price, the many hurts between, and Buck holds his tongue all through the long telling, but in the morning he says, "but why add to the pain when it can be slowly mended? Surely there can be something that helps both dwarves and elves to become friends"

"perhaps, but I do not see it" says Tommy

They return to Bree and build themselves a small cottage on the outskirts of the village, and Tommy sets up as a smith while Buck begins working as a baker. It is a good few months before they hear of the triumphant return of Bilbo and Gandalf

Bilbo is delighted to see Buck so far from the Shire, declaring him "a brave young hobbit indeed! And you missed the worst of the adventures, particularly the spiders and the barrel ride down the river and the wolves", and Tommy talks alone with the wizard about the fools who went to challenge Smaug. When Tommy returns, he sits alone by his forge and weeps for Thorin and Fili and Kili, the latter two of whom he knew when they were children

And it is another few months before Tommy thinks the roads are safe enough to travel to Erebor now, with some company. But to his dismay, he gets the elves Elrohir and Elladan, but thankfully they are akin to Strider in temperament, and they all get to visit Rivendell (Buck thinks it is all very pleasant, but he does prefer the solidity and hardiness of dwarves to the elegance and grace of elves, all things considered, even if a jealous Tommy keeps Buck close lest the hobbit is lured away by things like elvish singing) before they make it to Laketown where the twins bid them farewell, going instead to Mirkwood to visit Thranduil

Tommy shows Buck Laketown, and the people of Laketown asks after Bilbo's health; Dain and his people are more than happy to offer Tommy and Buck a place to live, but Tommy knows Buck is still very much a homebody and will miss being close enough to visit his kin within a couple days' journeying. But he does take Buck to the places he played and lived in as a child, and, alone together under the stars, they pledged their lives to each other, and Tommy gives Buck his dwarvish name ("Evan") and carves it into his family annals, before they ask for a senior dwarf to wed them according to dwarfish customs