phd in buckley siblings studies

The smiles are awkward, but it doesn't make them less gorgeous, and Tommy keeps thinking their children would never stop smiling. They would come out smiling and well adjusted, and Tommy is for some reason imagining Evan as some sort of house husband, even thought Evan wouldn't like that at all, and their jobs don't exactly allow for the picture in Tommy's head, where Evan has dinner ready, when his hot wife comes home from the office, but whatever. This is the future he has imagined for Evan. He doesn't have to deal with the gay stuff, he gets to live a normal life, that maybe veers a little bit too hard into the kind of world those assholes on TV keep trying to force everyone to do, but it's easy, right? If you do what society tells you, you get rewarded, and if anyone deserves to be rewarded, it's Evan.

The two of them never sat down and discussed their exes at length, but Tommy has heard about Taylor a few times – and never the bad stuff, so surely, they could get back together. Evan introduced her as his ex, but it didn't sound like it meant anything. Evan introduced him as just Tommy, so maybe they're skipping the whole ex thing.

But Evan gets nervous and doesn't stop talking, and suddenly Evan outs himself to his ex, who doesn't look surprised at all. (I don't think you can have adventorous sex with someone and not notice certain things.) Suddenly Taylor is interested in him and sweat starts pouring down his back.

Taylor asks why they broke up and Evan explains it to her, but he explains it wrong, and Tommy is going to die here anyway, so he might as well set the record straight. Evan and Taylor are going to survive this, they're way too pretty to die. But then Evan gets upset, because he thinks Tommy is in the wrong, and OK, they're good at bickering. Fighting? Less so. The elevator is too small to contain their emotions, which, at this point, Tommy would like for the cables to break and plummet them to their deaths. It would be a novel way to go for a firefighter. Nothing is even on fire.

But then he looks at the number above the door and they're only on the fourth floor and there's no basement, so they probably wouldn't die.

Suddenly Taylor Kelly's hand is on his arm and Taylor Kelly's face tells him to breathe. Which is probably a good idea. Seems like he stopped doing that. She's a very pretty woman, no wonder Evan is into her. Not all that dissimilar to Abby, actually. With the hair and the eyes.

And Tommy isn't that. Tommy isn't a beautiful, redheaded woman with small hands and a good attitude.

When Tommy's vision clears up and the walls stop closing in, he sees Evan sitting in the opposite corner, looking upset.

”Are you OK?” Evan asks him and Tommy can't exactly be honest, can he? Tommy has aged approximately twenty years, since he walked away. Everything hurts, he doesn't remember what happiness feels like. Evan has aged in reverse, looking more beautiful than ever. He's bigger than before, which looks like a healthy mix of fat and muscle.

The kind of body kids would love. Soft for cuddles and strong enough to throw them around – nevermind the fact that Evan told him he has no desire to become a parent. Tommy had helped babysit Jee-Yun one time – only the once – and Evan had leaned into him and told him how exciting it was to hold her for the first time, and how ecstatic he was that he wasn't taking her home; that she wasn't his.

But that doesn't fit the narrative in Tommy's head, and he's managed to convince himself that half the memories of their relationship are fake anyway, and it wasn't actually as good as he remembers.

Part of him wants to be honest, since he doesn't expect to see Evan after this (whether he dies or not), but he can't tell his ex and his ex's ex that he's regretted the breakup since the moment the door to Evan's loft closed behind him. Or maybe the moment the words left his mouth. Even as he said them, he knew he didn't mean it.

”I'm fine,” Tommy says.

”Right,” Evan nods. ”Because you look fine.”

And OK, Tommy has a type, and a lot neuroses, and Evan being catty always gets him going, even now, apparently. ”I get claustrophobic.”

”No, you don't.”

”It's hot in here.”

”You're a firefighter.”

Tommy is not a patient man. He shoves down all the nicknames that would probably hurt a lot and puts on a grimace, that could maybe pass as a smile, and says, ”I'm uncomfortable. I'd like to get out of here.”

Evan calls dispatch again, but the situation hasn't changed. There are several big emergencies going on at the moment, and they're safe, so they're not currently a priority.

They sit in agonising silence for a while. Taylor is by far handling it better than the two of them. Evan is still pouty and upset, but seems to be behaving, beacuse of Taylor. As much as he's telling himself he wouldn't, the way Evan is looking at him tells him that Evan would be so far up his ass right now, if they were alone.

And maybe he longs for that, a little bit. Maybe it would be nice if Evan lost it a little bit and got demanding. But Taylor seems nice and maybe she never found out she was dating a crazy person.

Tommy misses dating a crazy person. He misses Evan like a limb. His life is so fucking boring and empty. They're too far from Harbor, but Tommy knows at least two people currently on shift, who'd go rogue if he called. It was his first thought, when no one answered the emergency button, and 911 said they were on hold, but Tommy is also a crazy person, who wouldn't mind figuring out what would happen, if he got locked in a room with Evan. Too bad his nervous system is a little bitch, who can't handle the heat.

It's so hot in the elevator, Tommy can feel his eyeballs sweating.

”It was me, OK?” Tommy blurts, when Evan won't stop pouting. ”I broke it off, because I thought you weren't fully in it.”

”I asked you to move in!” Evan explodes.

”We don't know each other! But I wanted to. I wanted to know you, Evan. I wanted to keep getting to know you.”

Evan's lip wobbles for a second, before he bites down on it. He glances at Taylor, and tucks himself more tightly into the corner. ”I wanted that, too.”

Taylor is sitting in the third corner, trying to do the math and figure out what the hell happened, because so far, it sounds pretty stupid. She asks how they met and Evan tells her about the hurricane. Tommy clocks the professional interest immediately, but she probably can't sell the story so long after the fact.

Taylor is kind to Evan, tells him she's not surprised he would like someone like Tommy. Which is a crazy thing for your ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend to say, even if Evan doesn't seem to think so.

Nothing gets solved in the elevator. They talk in fits and starts, all three of them, but nothing gets off the ground. When it's finally their turn to get rescued, they're like three cats in a pillowcase.

As they get checked for heat stroke, Evan has reached peak pout. Tommy is worse off than the other two, and spends a long few minutes sitting in the ambulance, until Evan comes over and tells him, ”She dumped me, so stop looking at her like that.”

”Like what?”

”Like I'm about to get on the back of her motorcycle.”

It takes Tommy entirely too long to understand that the motorcycle isn't literal.

”I dumped you, too.”

”Yeah, but you didn't mean it,” Evan huffs. ”She did.”

Tommy's whole body is drenched in sweat and he's pretty sure he's going to pass out, if he attempts to stand up. ”I didn't mean it?” Evan is standing in the worst spot, with the sun right behind his head, and Tommy thinks he might throw up.

”No,” Evan says firmly. ”You're dumb. And mentally ill. And … And I should've called you.”

The medic passes Tommy a bottle of water, which he gulps down. He reaches out for Evan's hip and pushes him to the side, so he blocks the sun better, and Evan grabs the chance to hold his hand. His clammy, disgusting hand that has been touching the floor of an elevator for the better part of a day.

The medic hands him a second bottle, cap already off. Tommy sips this one. Maybe the hospital would be a good idea, but he's really not in the mood for it.

”Did you drive here?” Evan asks.

”I did.”

”Let me take you home? I'll make sure you don't die.”

Tommy turns to the medic and tells her, ”I'm not as old as I look.” She doesn't care.

”Come on, old man. You can complain all the way home, if you want. Or pass out. Whatever you're in the mood for.”

”And then what?”

Evan’s squirming, but he knows he’s not allowed to move too much, so he’s fighting to be still. He’s panting, his mouth hanging open, his lips bitten and pink. He’s splayed out on the carpet, the coffee table pushed out of the way for play. Jeans and a leather belt, but no shirt. Instead, the flush on his face has spread down across his throat and chest, his nipples pebbled in the cool air. Evan’s legs are knocked wide from where Tommy kicked them apart when they started. The sole of Tommy’s right boot is pressed firmly on the bulge of his cock.

“Unh–” Evan doesn’t say anything, because he’s a good boy and hasn’t been given permission yet, but he nods hurriedly at Tommy’s warning.

Tommy rewards him by increasing the pressure for a few agonizing seconds. Evan bites on his lip again, his eyelids fluttering closed, his hands curling into fists. Tommy holds the pressure, counting down in his head. One Mississippi, two Mississippi… until he hits fifteen. Evan makes a soft noise at the back of his throat, his eyes screwed shut now. Tommy lifts his foot slightly, and Evan’s back to that open mouth panting. Tommy watches as he shakes with the effort to not grind up.

He's so hard. Tommy knows if he were to lift the boot, he’d see an obscene bulge in Evan’s jeans. Maybe even a small wet patch. Evan leaks like a faucet, and they’ve been at it long enough that he’s probably made a mess of the inside of his jeans. He’s not wearing underwear, Tommy saw Evan’s bare ass as he dressed earlier. There’s no way it’s comfortable, the zipper has to be digging into him, but Tommy’s long since figured out that, for Evan, the discomfort is the point.

Tommy makes a show of glancing at his watch. Almost nine minutes now. An arbitrary time limit where Evan has to behave. It’s for Tommy more than anything. Evan revels in any attention, rough as it is, and the heft of his erection would be straining against denim no matter what Tommy does. If Tommy had decided to start things by just kicking him in the balls and throwing him around the living room from the get go, Evan would be moaning for it. But Tommy can’t do that, doesn’t want that. Tommy needs a warm up, needs to ease down into it, before he can hurt Evan the way he wants.

So that’s why Tommy’s here, sitting on the couch and pretending to watch baseball, while Evan starts to get more and more impatient on the floor. It’s frankly something he never considered with sex. Some pain here and there is good for him, lord fucking knows how hard it gets him when Evan spanks his ass bright red, but Tommy prefers his junk stay out of that. The long recovery from bottom surgery was over a decade ago at this point, but Tommy had his fill of his cock and balls hurting then.

They’d started with thirty minutes, an eon for someone that often can’t sit still for ten. Tommy’s spent that time letting on and off the pressure of the boot against Evan’s groin. Each time he presses down it’s more, longer, harder. Like accelerating in a car, steadily increasing the speed until it’s pedal to the metal. Tommy’s gonna floor it soon, and when he does Evan’s going to cry while thanking him.

In Buck's loft, Tommy mentions them being together the day before, which makes me think they had a completely normal day together – and now Tommy is stuck having to relive that day.

The first go around has got to be bad, because Tommy just broke up with him, and he's being presented with a happy and oblivious Buck, who has no idea what's coming. Tommy tries everything. Some of the loops end with them breaking up a day early, Tommy spends some of them cancelling their date and not interacting with Buck at all.

Maybe Tommy goes on a tour around Buck's friend group, talking to everyone he can, trying to find out if Buck loves him and if he actually wants to be with Tommy long term.

But no one has anything helpful to say, because Buck doesn't actually talk about it. He talks about their dates and all the exciting stuff they do together, but he doesn't talk about his feelings. No one knows what Buck wants out of the relationship – and they also probably haven't bothered to ask.

The answers Tommy needs, are only available through Buck, so he goes through with their date, which I imagine is just hanging out on the couch with a movie. Maybe a home cooked dinner. And for the first time, they have an honest conversation about their relationship. Tommy is scared shitless, every time. He has to do it over and over again, because he's not good at talking, and he fucks it up. Sometimes Buck gets upset, sometimes Tommy gets upset. A lot of the dates end with one of them walking away. For Buck, it's a conversation that comes out of nowhere and is weirdly intense, because he doesn't know what's coming.

When things get too intense, Tommy spends a loop just enjoying being with Buck. They have such a great time together, and Tommy is so happy, and he does his best to bask in it. A few times, he fucks that up, too. He remembers what he's about to do and gets emotional, and he can't explain to Buck what's happening.

The breakup has to be the big event, except Tommy is stuck the day before. And he knew breaking up was a mistake on the very first day, so he can't learn what he already knows. So what's the point of the time loop? What's the lesson supposed to be?

He does tell Buck about the time loop once or twice, but it doesn't do anything. Tommy discovers it's very easy to convince Buck, which is just another thing they don't have in common, because Tommy would not for a second believe it, if Buck told him the same.

Buck asks if he's figured out what needs to change, and he hasn't. Nothing happened, so if something needs to change, it's so small, so insignificant, Tommy has no chance of figuring out what it is. Neither one of them gets so much as papercut, so there's nothing to prevent. Buck suggests maybe it has nothing to do with them, but that isn't it either. There are the standard emergencies, that they deal with every single day, but there is no major event.

As great as it is to spend the day with Buck, it's mundane. The day is so normal, Tommy doesn't know what to look for. There's also no prelude to what Buck says on the night of the breakup, so he's not meant to get ahead of that either. Tommy can't ask where he got the idea to say all that, when Buck doesn't know what he's about to say.

Tommy spends every single loop, breaking his own heart. Buck is the best thing that is ever going to happen to him. He falls a little bit more in love with every turn – even the ones where they don't see each other.

I would make acceptance be the solution. He has to go through both days, exactly as they happened. He can't change anything, he's not in control. Once he breaks the loop and the breakup day comes around, he does everything exactly as he did the first time. The breakup has to happen. The time loop is already broken, but Tommy is too afraid to do anything different, so he breaks up with Buck again.

When he finally wakes up the day after the breakup, and finally trusts that the loop is broken, he gets in his car and rushes to Buck's place. Buck is very confused and more than a little upset, but Tommy barges in, telling him he regrets it and he shouldn't have done it in the first place.

Maybe the intense regret Tommy felt the first time, is what created the time loop in the first place. Something about how fear isn't a good enough reason not to do something.

Buck is apprehensive, as he should be, but he's willing to listen. He listens to Tommy ramble for entirely too long, because Tommy is still stuck in the belief that it doesn't matter. He knows he's out of the loop, but he's gotten so used to it, his brain still thinks if he just gets it all out the first time, the second go is gonna go much smoother.

Then he remembers there won't be a second go, and looks at Buck in horror. Buck is sort of smiling a little bit, because, ”I don't think I've heard you say that many words at once.”

And Tommy crumbles with panic. He's carrying the weight of who knows how many days, where nothing mattered, where nothing made a difference, and all he wanted to do was escape, but now he's here, in the real world, with no second chances, no dress rehearsals.

Buck has no idea how to handle what's happening. He ends up just sort of holding Tommy? And rubbing his back? Because nothing he's saying is making sense, but it's clearly very important to him, so Buck listens.

Tommy hears the desperation in his own voice, when he asks for a second chance. Buck is hurt that he did it at all, but for Buck, it has been less than twenty-four hours, and the hope hasn't had time to leave yet, so the decision is easy.