god i hope so

until the break up.

he follows up then. apparently, in addition to a vast fortune, there's an old apple barn converted into a living space, on a good-sized piece of land, that his long-forgotten great-uncle jim on his dad's side left to him in his will. he didn't know great-uncle jim all that well, just that he used to be a newspaperman in detroit before he lost his marbles (or so tommy's dad said) and moved to some nowhere town 400 miles north of everywhere.

but it's not the time of year to be visiting michigan, so he puts it off.

and then: the worst happens.

as it turns out, the moose county volunteer emergency auxiliary doesn't really care if lafd benched him. they're short on pretty much everything, these days, except visiting rich people getting themselves into stupid situations.

so: tommy packs what he wants to take and sells the rest and allows himself one (1) glance in the rearview mirror at the santa monica pier as he winds his way through the city. he's always wanted to travel route 66, terminus to terminus. and now, he's got time. he takes just short of a week to make the drive, gets to see all the things he's been curious about. doesn't really get his kicks on route 66, exactly, but there's a growing collection of souvenir memorabilia in the floorboard of his backseat that he's very committed to not thinking too much about.

a week after he arrives in pickax city and checks out the house—barn—whatever and starts to get settled in, he's headed out for a drive around the county to see what's where, trying very hard to not think about how evan would love the barn. he opens his front door—

and there, on his stoop, are two seal-point siamese cats.

one, with piercing blue eyes, has an exceptional number of whiskers. the other slow-blinks slightly-crossed violet-blue eyes before planting into a loaf on the welcome mat and begins purring up a storm.

it seems tommy will be acquainting himself with the town vet today instead.

he doesn't think too much about it when he snaps a photo of the cats, with his boots at the edge of the frame, and sends it off to evan with an electronic woosh.

"it is what it is," he murmurs as he crouches down to the cats' level.

It would be idiotic to sit around and wait for Evan to contact him.

But Evan was enthusiastic and persistent, so it would be weird if he didn't.

The first week, Tommy kept his phone fully charged at all times, with the ringer turned all the way up. After that, he got tired of pissing himself everytime his phone rang, so he lowered the volume, but kept it charged.

As he approached week three, he was starting to feel a bit pathetic, and worried he wasn't processing things. Waiting around wasn't exactly the same as moving forward.

His captain had already pulled him aside – twice – suggesting maybe it was PTO time. His days off were killing him as it was. He'd been taking on as many extra hours as he possibly could, but his colleagues were running out of dance recitals and doctor's appointments. Plus the legal limit for overtime, which his captain had also pulled him aside for.

”Go home, Kinard.”

”Do I have to? Don't make that face, I'm joking. I'm joking!”

”We both know you're not.”

*

Tommy hated grocery stores more than he hated most things. Nothing good had ever happened at a grocery store. They triggered his anxiety, his PTSD, his vertigo, his body dysmorphia, his everything. But he wasn't about to pay to get his shit delivered. He was a first responder and an adult, he could get his own damn groceries.

His hands shook the entire time, no matter how hard he gripped the cart. He spent ten minutes in the freezer section, staring at everything and nothing.

At home, he unpacked his groceries and checked them against what he'd written on his list. He checked off the items, and put everything away. Afterwards, he got out a notepad, and transferred the items he'd missed to a new list, plus the two items he remembered on the drive home.

There was a cup of yoghurt at the back of his fridge, that was probably out of date. Tommy didn't like yoghurt, but Evan did.

He could toss the yoghurt tomorrow.

*

Tommy cleared the call log on his phone, to get Evan's name off the screen. Looking at his text messages, thumb hovering over the menu, he hesitated. He wanted his name gone, but he didn't want to lose the messages. It had been a month, but Evan's name was still near the top. He didn't text enough people to get it so far down, he'd have to scroll. He'd kept a couple of marketing texts, to knock him down a few spots, but it wasn't enough.

He couldn't do it.

*

The contents of the box grew. He'd pulled on a pair of boxerbriefs, only to discover they weren't his. They went in the box. On a chilly morning, he pulled on his favourite hoodie, only to remember stealing it from Evan, some five months ago. He had to lie down for that one.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing the tears to stay in his tear ducts, he thought about whether he had left something behind at Evan's place. It would make sense if he had, but he couldn't remember anything specific. Evan had about a thousand chargers, so he never brought one.

Fuck, there was probably a charger in his car as well.

He never brought more than he needed. He was practical like that. Evan would bring an overnight bag, but Tommy usually just put a pair of clean underwear and a toothbrush in his pocket.

The hoodie went in the box.

*

As he entered month two, Tommy took the time to empty out his phone. When it came to file management, Tommy was not good. He had several years worth of photos on his phone, even though he kept telling himself he would do it more frequently. And take less photos.

He emptied out his entire gallery. Everything from the year 2024 went into its own folder, on his external storage. He wanted to mark it ”Evan”, so his future self would know what it was, but he didn't want his name there. It would only deter him from transferring photos more often. Maybe his future self would have the guts to go through them and remove Evan, one by one. Current Tommy couldn't do it.

Current Tommy wasn't moving on. Current Tommy was spending every waking moment regretting what he'd done.

Six months with Evan was enough to forget just how boring and uneventful his life was. How unhappy he was before.

*

Month three was on the horizon and Tommy couldn't breathe. Nothing was happening. Nothing was fucking happening. Evan left behind a sucking void and nothing was coming to fill it. Tommy was going to die alone and miserable.

The box in the hall was full. His phone was empty and silent. The yoghurt cup was still in the back of the fridge. He hadn't killed Lucy or himself.

He was still working as much as he could.

*

He parked in the least convenient spot, furthest away from the entrance. His feet wouldn't move. His brain was screaming at him, telling him how crazy he was being. Stalking his ex at his fucking job.

He took a couple of steps, then took a break to breathe. He couldn't fucking breathe.

”Tommy?”

Hen was across the lot, with what was probably lunch in her hand. ”Hey,” he said.

”What're you doing here?”

”Is Evan in?”

Hen looked at the door, then back to Tommy. ”Yeah, he's in.”

”Could you tell him I'm here? I don't think I can go in.”

He couldn't tell what her face was doing at this distance, but she nodded. ”I'll tell him.”

His hands were shaking again. It felt entirely too fast, when Evan came around the corner, coming from the bay, not the side door.

”Tommy?”

His throat closed up, so he waved instead.

Evan's long legs ate up the pavement, and then he was there. ”Wh-what's up?”

”I'm sorry.”

Evan frowned. ”What for? Are you OK? You don't look … great.”

Tommy laughed, making his nausea kick up a few notches. ”I'm good.”

They just looked at each other for a moment. Evan was wearing the hell out of that uniform. The thigh of his pants looked kind of white. It was lunch time, so maybe he'd been doing something with flour.

”Maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered.

”What is?” Evan asked.

”Showing up here.”

Evan looked at the firehouse, then back. ”Depends on why you're here.”

”I'm not sure.” Tommy tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs rattled in his chest. Evan just looked at him. Which was fair enough, it was fucking weird showing up, without a plan or a speech or anything. ”I have– I have a box of your stuff.” Evan looked over Tommy's shoulder. ”Not with me, it's at my house. You left some stuff at my place.”

”Oh,” Evan rubbed his neck. ”Probably a charger, right?”

”Four, actually. And some other stuff. Do you want it? Your stuff.”

”Do I want my stuff?” He took a step closer. ”Tommy, I don't … I don't understand.”

Tommy's heart was slowly clawing its way up the back of his throat. He rubbed his face, but it only made everything worse. The tears he was trying to fight, the nausea, the fear, the sweat. He was sweating through his shirt. He wanted to run. He wanted to get in his car and drive, until he hit an ocean.

”What's happening?” Evan asked, voice so gentle Tommy wanted to scream.

He could feel his face smile, like it always fucking did, at the worst possible time. ”I don't know what I'm doing.”

”OK,” Evan nodded, eager to understand. ”Right now, or in a more general sense?”

”I can't fucking breathe with how much I miss you.”

Evan's eyes went a little wide. ”You miss me?”

”I don't know what the fuck I did with my time, before I met you.”

The hope in Evan's eyes dimmed a little, which Tommy couldn't blame him for. He was smiling like a maniac, and made it sound like he enjoyed having a busy schedule, which had nothing to do with Evan.

He felt a tear run down his cheek. He tried to catch it and take a step back at the same time, but Evan grabbed his forearm, making both things impossible.

He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, didn't know how to fix things.

Evan's arms closed around him, pulling him tightly to his body, and time stopped.

”I miss you, too,” Evan whispered.

Tommy hugged him like he'd never hugged him before. He didn't think he was ever going to touch Evan again. Maybe a polite hand off, when they exchanged boxes, but not this. Evan's arms tightened in response.

”I got scared. You were so far ahead of me and I didn't know what to do.”

Evan's voice was wet and a little choked, ”I do that. I always go fast.”

”I like that about you.”

Evan turned his face into the crook of Tommy's neck, laughing a little. ”No, you don't.”

-

2.

-

Buck had done plenty of stupid things in the pursuit of an orgasm.

Everyone knew that. He’d been fired for it. Taylor’s cameraman had caught him with his dick out more than once. He’d been very dumb in the past.

He was eternally thankful that he’d never been idiotic enough to superglue a knotted dildo to the wall of a sex dungeon, and gotten himself stuck on the knot, and had no hope but to call for help.

Honestly, Drew, their rescue, was extremely lucky he’d been watching porn on his phone while he was trying to get off. If he’d been left to his own imagination, he probably would’ve ended up tearing his arse wide open to get off the monstrosity they found him impaled on.

He was a good sport about it; it apparently wasn’t the first time he’d called 911 for a sex-related injury. Hell, it wasn’t the first sex-related call they’d had that day.

By the time the one-eighteen knocked down the front door and found him in the basement (sex dungeon, Buck’s brain unhelpfully specified), Drew was a sweaty, shaking, overstimulated mess, and had a puddle below him that was as much lubricant as it was semen.

“Uhh, how long have you been stuck like this?” Eddie asked while Hen and Chim had the unfortunate task of assessing the situation.

“About forty-five minutes,” Drew groaned, making Buck move into action. He disappeared upstairs, came back with a chair.

He caught the look Bobby gave him, the one that said ‘not helpful’, but Buck turned the chair so Drew could at least kneel on it (with some very gentle movements). Drew sighed gratefully once he was off his feet, his upper body practically melted over the back of it.

“Thanks, man.”

Along with the blanket Eddie had placed over him, Drew looked far more comfortable than when they’d first arrived.

“No sweat.”

“So much sweat, actually.”

At least he had a sense of humour about the situation.

Meanwhile, Bobby, Chim, and Eddie were the ones trying to figure out the next steps.

“Do we have any leftover acetone to dissolve the glue?” Chim asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“I think we used it all up on the last call,” Eddie pointed out, because of course their previous rescue was also superglue-related. That had been a dumb YouTube prank.

“We can saw through the base of it,” Bobby suggested, and both Buck and Drew winced. “Problem?”

“Vibrations,” Buck said, as Drew complained:

“It’s customised! It’s expensive.”

Even Hen popped her head around for that. “How expensive?”

“Like four-hundred dollars.”

“Yikes.”

“I know, right?” Drew groaned. “It isn’t cheap being a monogamous size-queen without a big-dicked boyfriend.”

“Amen,” Buck huffed.

Fuck, he should call Tommy.

“I, uh, think sawing might be the only option,” Hen said from where she was; Buck guessed she was observing the way Drew’s rim was stretched obscenely around the knot of the toy. “I don’t know if it’ll be safe to put any more pressure on his skin.”

“Oh my God, if I orgasm because your saw turns this dildo into a vibrator, and there happens to be a giant knot pressed against my prostate, that’s not my fault, nor am I a creep,” Drew warned.

“Duly noted,” Bobby said, and grabbed the saw they’d left by the door.

“Can I make a request, though?” Drew asked. “Can you not be the one to do it? I already have enough daddy issues.”

Fuck, he really should call Tommy.

-

3.

-

When Buck was a child, he’d been forbidden from watching wrestling – WWF, WCW: it was all banned from his household.

He knew from the other kids at school that Stone Cold Steve Austin was the biggest and best thing to ever happen, and that the NWO was a shock to the system that was professional wrestling, but his parents had taken one look at the crazy stunts the performers pulled (something about Swanton Bombs, and a spear off a twenty-foot ladder, whatever the hell that was) and decided that Buck did not need that kind of influence in his life. He already took enough risks (for their attention, to be fair) and didn’t need the extra inspiration.

It turned out that it was encouraged in Tommy’s household, which Buck found more than a little funny. If Tommy’s father had wanted him to not be gay, why’d he let his son watch super, incredibly buff men in their underwear grappling each other?

Buck struggled to find things less queer than wrestling.

Most promotions, Buck learnt, had their own medical team waiting for the inevitable injury. He’d been smooshed on Tommy’s couch when they watched the big Scottish guy get his head busted open in a Hell in a Cell match (whatever the hell that was) with a tool box by the smaller guy with the Pepsi logo tattooed on his shoulder (Tommy called him Pepsi Phil, but the commentators called him Punk?). The big Scottish guy was taken care of by the in-house medics, got a dozen or so staples to close the wound up. It wasn’t the worst injury Buck supposed could have come out of that match.

Tommy did explain to him that some of the wrestlers did actually get seriously injured. Recently, a big guy hadn’t rotated, or been rotated, properly on a belly-to-belly suplex (whatever that was) and landed on his head. Broke his neck, would have killed him if his neck wasn’t so thick. In the 90s, a similar thing had happened to Stone Cold. He’d been paralysed mid-match because of a sit-out piledriver (whatever that was) that he didn’t even want to do. It dropped him on his head and broke his neck. The same guy who pulled that move on him died not long after, having falling from a zipline from the roof of an arena. The carabiner wasn’t meant for someone his weight, apparently. Tommy had seen that live on pay-per-view. He recalled, grimly, that the show had continued, and that his father hadn’t wanted the show to stop because he’d paid good money for it. That sickened Buck.

It wasn’t an injury that had them called out to a stadium for a wrestling show. It was a collapse of the set that had pinned a producer in Gorilla Position (whatever that was. Buck actually quickly learnt it was where the big wigs watched and directed the show from after people ushered them to where they needed to be).

The job was a quick job, and the producer wasn’t injured. In fact, the only injury was to the pride of the wrestlers there who hadn’t been able to lift the structure off him.

Buck assured them that they probably could have but doing so could have risked the stability of the rest of the set. That seemed to placate them a little bit.

He wondered if Tommy was a fan of any of the men and women surrounding them as they worked to get the producer out.

And then he spotted it – the Pepsi logo.

It was Eddie who asked to take photos. Apparently Pepsi Phil/Punk had also had a run in the UFC, and Eddie was a huge fan.

The producer insisted on taking a few photos with Buck as he’d been the one using the tools that freed him. Eddie jumped in, beaming like a kid who’d seen Santa. That was the only sign that told Buck that the producer was perhaps more than just a producer – maybe an ex-wrestler? He was big enough that he could pass for one.

“I’m totally sending these to Tommy,” Eddie said to himself once they were in the engine on their way back to the station, his starry eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he flicked through the images. He caught himself and blinked up at Buck. “Wow. I completely forgot.”

Buck huffed. “To not mention him in front of me, or that you ditched him as a friend because he broke up with me?”

He looked sheepish but didn’t answer, so Buck didn’t know which option was true. Perhaps both. Maybe he’d reconnected after the break up.

Didn’t change the fact that Tommy would both enjoy and be jealous of the photos they took.

Didn’t change the fact that Buck really ought to call him.

4.

Miceli’s was a fucking curse.

There was no other explanation for it.

He’d made an absolutely fucking fool of himself there by shoving Tommy back into the closet. He’d been dumped there. He’d found out that he and Tommy had shared an ex there.

And, finally, he’d dislocated his shoulder there.

It had all started with a call. An oil fire in the kitchen, nothing they hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t a rescue to write home about, though it wasn’t one to be ignored. The restaurant was Hollywood’s oldest pizza place, after all. Can’t let that go up in flames, despite how Buck’s relationship with Tommy having ended that way.

So they showed up with the fire extinguishers and dealt with it. Hen assessed the head chef for smoke inhalation while Bobby gave the manager a tongue-lashing about not storing their own extinguishers in an obvious place. Not that the extinguishers they’d found were any good – they’d expired two months before. That earned the manager another lecture.

That was going in a report somewhere.

But not before one of the trainee chefs decided to try to clean up and grabbed the very hot handle of a pan that had just been on fire. No one reacted quickly enough to stop him from doing that because, well, they hadn’t thought anyone would be dumb enough.

The wail was just as sickening as the smell of burnt flesh.

And then, because of course it happened, another trainee decided to rush to his side and knocked a knife off the table. The trainee must have forgotten the first rule of being in a kitchen because he tried to catch the fucking knife. The sharp fucking knife.

Buck saw more of the inside of that kid’s hand than he did the outside as he quickly grabbed him and pressed a random towel over the gash before Eddie could transition from firefighter mode to paramedic mode while Chim tended to the burn and Hen took the head chef to the ambulance for oxygen.

Cursed. The whole place was cursed.

Despite the blood and burns and smoke, they got out of that damned kitchen in one piece.

It was getting out of the building where Buck copped his portion of the curse.

The two young trainees were brothers.

Their father wouldn’t have been out of place in Gorilla Position with the wrestlers.

He pushed past the barricades station one-twenty-two put up to keep the civilians out, distraught that his kids weren’t on the curb with the rest of the staff and patrons, and barrelled through the front door just as Buck opened it to help the kid with the nearly-amputated thumb out.

The dad got him with an accidental shoulder tackle that sent Buck back onto his left arm in a way that was not dissimilar to the incident with Mr. Pumpkin Head a year prior. The already-weakened joint popped out again, leaving Buck glaring at Miceli’s ceiling.

“Fucking cursed place.”

He heard Bobby radio for another RA just as Captain Deluca blocked his view of the ceiling Buck low-key expected to fall onto him, because the whole fucking thing was fucking cursed.

“Tried to stop him. I bet Tommy would get a laugh out of this, though,” Sal said, because of course he did. He was Tommy’s best friend. He knew the lore of the place.

And while Tommy wouldn’t have enjoyed that Buck had gotten hurt, he certainly would have had a laugh at how so many people could get hurt at a place that given them so much misery.

Sure, their pizza was great, but the rest of it was not worth it.

Buck should call Tommy to tell him so.

5.

The scene was a mess.

A bloody mess, to be more accurate.

It was hardly the first assault they’d been called out to where medical assistance was required. It wasn’t even the first time they’d been called out for a victim of assault that day. Normally, it was just Hen and Chim in the ambulance. Sometimes, Eddie joined in.

That time, though, the victim had run off the best he could, jumped the gate, and ended up impaled. Buck and his saw had been needed.

He and Bobby checked out the scene, discussing quietly how best to extract the victim from the gate, when he saw the cards.

Pre-Tommy, Buck never would have known what they were.

Post-Tommy, he knew that ‘To me, you are perfect’ on cardboard meant that someone had played Andrew Lincoln for a Keira Knightly, and a Chiwetel Ejofor beat his arse for it, even though they were months away from Christmas.

“Tommy would love that some guy Love, Actually-ed his way into having three new holes.”

“Maybe you should call him,” Bobby suggested.

And if Buck mumbled “maybe I should,” under the buzz of the saw, no one mentioned it.

-

+1

As fate would have it, Buck did end up calling Tommy, but it had nothing at all to do with him missing him or him being reminded of him at just about every scene he was called out to, or date he went on, or, fucking, custard doughnut he saw.

No, he called him because he was scared.

Wildfire season was Buck’s least favourite time of the year. The overtime pay was great, the adrenaline was fantastic, but the lives lost and damage done took away all of the fun. Wildfires were the absolute worst.

They became particularly difficult after Buck fell in love with a firefighter pilot who would fly directly into the raging fires to drop a couple hundred litres of water at a time.

It was hard when Buck and Tommy were together, but he at least got text messages letting him know that he was okay and safe and coming home to him.

Not getting that little message on his phone was heartbreaking, it was devastating. Anything could have happened to Tommy and Buck wouldn’t have known. Sure, if he died, he assumed Sal would let him know, but he didn’t want that to be the only thing he knew about Tommy. Selfishly, Buck wanted to be dead and buried before he got that call.

He needed to know that Tommy was safe during the season.

It got considerably worse when he was at home and got the call from Maddie. She wanted him to know before it hit the news.

One of Harbour’s helicopters had gone down and the pilot wasn’t responding.

She couldn’t confirm if it was Tommy – she hadn’t been told, herself. She’d gotten the news second-hand, too, and was waiting for the ID to trickle down the grapevine at Dispatch.

Buck hung up and did what he should have done months before.

He called Tommy.

And Tommy, his Tommy, answered after one ring.

“I’m okay.”

Buck started crying tears he hadn’t realised had welled up. “Thank goodness,” he managed to sob, and crumpled down onto the couch. His knees couldn’t carry him, the relief was so overwhelming.

“I’m at home, it wasn’t me. I’m safe.”

“I was so scared, I…”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Afterwards, Buck would find it ridiculous that Tommy was trying to calm him down when it was Tommy’s colleague who didn’t make it.

In that moment, though, all Buck could think about was how Tommy was still alive.

He thought about all the times he should have called Tommy.

“I love you.”

It was probably the wrong time to say it, they hadn’t said it to each other before they’d broken up, but he meant it with every ounce of his soul.

“Are you home?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m coming over, but I’ll stay on the line.” And then: “I’m so sorry this is what it took to get us to talk again.”

"This guy?" Tommy muttered to Eliot out of the corner of his mouth, his frown deepening. There was something about Eliot's boss that reminded Tommy of slow, hot afternoons in church where — "You're from Boston," he said, his brain overlaying the image of the young seminary student that had been at their church for a year when he was in middle school over the man in front of him.

Nate Ford looked Tommy up and down, his eyes narrowing as he tried to place him. "Kinard. Should have seen the family resemblance," he said slowly.

Tommy's frown deepened. He didn't like that people could see his father in him. "Unfortunately."

"Is this going to be a problem?" Eliot asked, shifting his weight forward.

Tommy could practically read the indecision in the movement; he wasn't sure if he wanted to protect Tommy from Nate, or Nate from Tommy. He knew he wasn't all that interested in explaining the connection to the others, but Nate was their boss and he wasn't about to stop him if he wanted to. Tommy raised an eyebrow at Nate, shrugging and spreading his hands out in front of him.

"Our families lived on the same block," Nate said finally, after a silence that hung heavy and awkward in the office. "Just strange to see each other outside of that context."

2. Tommy's knee hurts. That's what wakes him most mornings and this one is not unusual. He takes his pain meds and waits for them to take effect and then he goes about the routine to get his knee to at least work to some extent for the day before it bothers him and he needs to ice it or wrap it or give in to just not being on his feet. That's always the case the day after several hours of PT. Tommy was twenty-nine when he found himself at the right place at the right time, the ball landing at his feet, and in the second it took him to decide how he was going to kick it in, the hit came at the back of his leg and it was hard, the cleats sharp and painful and yet as he fell, his other leg tapped the ball and it rolled forward but the pain that screamed up from his leg and from his knee where he hit the ground, and his body where it tangled with the defender, became his main focus rather than the fact that Tommy had managed to actually score a goal in the process. It was career ending as far as Tommy was concerned. His leg had only just come back from a pulled hamstring, following a different issue some years before. If he managed to get through a surgery and the pt that followed then he'd need to train himself back into the proper shape and if he wanted to do it right it would take years before he was back and ready to play. You only had so many years to be an athlete at the top of your game before your body protested and said "no more" and Tommy knew even if he came back from the injury, he might never play the same way if he was even allowed to return to the starting eleven. His team would be obligated to keep him due to his contract, but that didn't mean that they'd let him play. They could even loan him to another club and then he'd be on the bench at a different club. And then his contract would end and where might he end up? Not the Premiere League where he'd played for most of his career…maybe the MLS. He definitely wouldn't return to the national team.

"I think I'm done," he said to his manager after the medical team finished discussing their next steps. No one could convince Tommy otherwise.

So, once he'd gone through the surgeries and the initial recovery, he just wanted nothing more than to disappear from all the questions. All the expectations. So, he found the most remote place he could where he could still work on getting the PT his leg and knee needed and where no one actually knew him. He still had a long way to go, but PT every other day was getting him there. Despite the pain he still felt sometimes, things were getting better. Tommy could walk, he could bend, he could put weight on his leg and not topple over and yet since arriving in the small town in the middle of nowhere, Tommy had barely left the house he'd rented. Finding a bare fridge when he went to get himself breakfast made him realize that perhaps it was time. The one good thing about going back to the US was how little most people cared about football — soccer — that he wouldn't be recognized like he would anywhere in Europe.

So, a little reluctant, but hungry, Tommy left the house. Usually he got groceries delivered, but it would take hours to get anything and he was too hungry to wait. Plus, as his therapist kept reminding him, he needed to leave the house more. Tommy was encouraged to walk as much as possible, but he had a treadmill for that and his yard was big enough even if he did have to walk the perimeter twenty or thirty times for it to be worth it and that got boring kinda fast.

Rather than go straight to the grocery store while hungry, Tommy decides to stop by the bakery/cafe to pick up something for breakfast. The place is a lot busier than he expected, but he waits anyway, and it's while he's in line that he is struck dumb by the most beautiful man he's ever seen restocking the pastry display. Somehow, maybe because his eyes are burning into him, or fate, Buck lifts his face and meets Tommy's eyes and he almost drops a whole tray of croissants.

3. Tommy doesn't even know what he ends up ordering. He's more than a little distracted. And the thing is that Tommy has always known that he's gay. But being a football player wasn't conductive to coming out. People in his personal life know. Some of his teammates, his manager, some of the coaches that the team went through, but that's it. Tommy's had boyfriends during his career, but nothing that ever lasted between the pressure to stay in the closet and keep the relationship hidden and on top of that Tommy's training schedule and season.

He steps aside to wait for his coffee and whatever pastry he wound up ordering and he's shocked when it's brought to him by Buck in a mug and on a plate rather than in a to go cup and a little bag.

"Oh, did you want it to go?" Buck asked.

"I can drink and eat here."

So Buck walks him to an empty table and sets the tray down for him and Tommy stops him before he can go.

"Thank you. Are you due for a break soon?"

"Uh. Why?"

"Well, I thought maybe you could join me?"

Tommy watches Buck blush and he grins at him, but it falls away when Buck just walks away, except he's back a few minutes later with his own mug, looking a little nervous as he takes a seat.

They sit there for almost an hour and it would have been more if it wasn't for Buck's employee needing to take a break and Buck needing to take over for her. So, Tommy leaves knowing Buck owns the place and that it once belonged to his aunt and Tommy tells him just that he's new in town and resting from a knee/leg injury. Tommy can't stop thinking about him as he shops and Buck can't stop thinking about him while he fills orders for the afternoon crowd.

4. Tommy starts taking walks to the bakery on the days he doesn't have PT. It's a fifteen minute walk there and it's always a nice walk. He also ventures to the other businesses around town. The bookstore is a nice stop. Tommy has been reading a lot more since being in recovery because there are only so many things to watch and he likes that he can support an independent store rather than buying online from Barnes & Noble, or worse Amazon. There's also a pet store that one morning is hosting a pet adoption event and Tommy can't help but stop and suddenly he finds himself falling in love with a very fluffy dog. She's two years old and she licks Tommy's fingers through the cage and Tommy very suddenly has a dog. He'd always wanted one but he never had the time and he decides that he has the time now. Her name is Honeydew, but Tommy figures she'll also answer to Honey. He's just done filling out paperwork and paying the adoption fee and trying to figure out how he's getting Honey home along with the stuff they want to send him off with and the things he needs to buy from the pet store, when Buck appears.

So, Buck offers to drive him Honey home and is surprised to find out that Tommy is actually renting his aunt's place. He helps Tommy bring in everything while Tommy brings Honey inside and introduces her to her new home.

His aunt has been renting out her place for ages. People have come and gone and Buck's met some of them, but not all. His parents are the ones that check on her house from time to time. He does mention to Tommy that the house belongs to his aunt.

Buck just kinda hangs out with them that day. He loves dogs and he loves being around Tommy. Tommy invites him to stay for dinner and lets Buck convince him to just order pizza instead of bothering to cook and Tommy agrees reluctantly because you really can't take the athlete out of him and pizza is something he indulges in very rarely, but he'll do it for Buck. When Buck finally starts to get ready to leave, Tommy walks him to the door and they share a very charged hug and when Buck is starting to walk away, Tommy calls out to him.

"Hey, tonight was pretty great. What are you doing Saturday?"

"Working, but bakery closes at five, so my evening is free."

Tommy grinning from the light of his porch nods. "Then if I come over there around five, do you think you'd want to go on a date with me?"

And Buck just grins and nods.

5. Buck is actually aware of his bisexuality, Tommy didn't show up and prompt him to realize it, but he's never really acted on any of the crushes he's had on boys/men before because there were always girls/women to chase after too and that just felt easier. Not that anything ever lasted. Buck still freaks out about Tommy a little though and he calls Maddie to tell her about the whole thing and how for weeks they've been flirting twice a week at the bakery and how Buck really likes him. The days leading up the date they don't see each other, but they do text and when the day of the date finally arrives it goes really well. They go to a restaurant a town over and they never run out of topics of conversation and they flirt all night and then when they drive back to the bakery, Buck invites him inside for coffee and they sit and talk for a few hours. Before Tommy leaves, they do finally share a kiss and it is as magical as they both expected it to be.

Tommy never tells Buck about his football career or anything to do with his injury and Buck senses that it's a difficult topic. Buck maybe imagines that it was a bad accident or that it's just touchy so he doesn't press. Tommy's reason is just that he likes that Buck likes him for who he is. He also just doesn't want to bring all of that back up even for himself especially since he's still mourning leaving the game and his career.

Over the next two months they become a solid couple. They go on dates all the time, Tommy hangs out at the cafe often, they take Honeydew on hikes. They're both incredibly happy. Tommy's been progressing with his PT and getting more and more active. He's also given up on his strict diet mostly because Buck's always doing some type of baking experiments. He's met Buck's parents and his aunt (over video call) and eventually Maddie and Chim come to visit and Chim immediately thinks that Tommy looks familiar and it hits him eventually because while he's not a fan of soccer, he has friends that are and so he sort of mentions it to Maddie once they are back home.

Maddie forgets about it until she sees an article about the upcoming world cup and how despite the US team still trying to reform with several injuries and other issues costing them players, there is still hope from the fans and the coaches that they might get a couple of their most popular players like Tommy Kinard. Maddie sends the article to Buck.

6. Buck is kinda surprised…but he gives Tommy the benefit of the doubt on not telling him. Buck isn't a fan of soccer (or sports in general) so it's not like it would have changed anything. Except that Buck sort of gets the sense that it means Tommy is going to leave eventually. He does a bit of research. Watches clips of Tommy getting injured. Watches compilation videos of Tommy in his prime. Is maybe a little surprised by how hot he finds Tommy in his soccer kit.

Every relationship that Buck has had before has ended because Buck won't leave the bakery and the town behind. His high school girlfriend refused to stay after graduation and she begged Buck to go with her. Taylor wanted to be a big reporter and she couldn't do it from there. Ali's job kept her traveling all the time and the coming and going was hard to deal with, and there were a few others that always felt a little stifled by the small town life even if they first thought that it was where they wanted to be. So, Buck is suddenly faced with the idea that Tommy will not be able to stay — won't want to stay. There's articles talking about how Tommy will come back from his injury and just go back to playing. He won't even be in the country if he goes back to his European team. Buck is absolutely heartbroken about the possibility of that happening.

Buck confronts Tommy about it, lashes out, doesn't let Tommy explain, and Tommy says some things back that aren't great either. They walk away broken hearted and thinking that it is all really over.

7. Tommy didn't plan on going back, but he hadn't really figured out what he would do without being a football player. Being with Buck made him believe that he could just stay and figure out where he'd fit in the small town. He'd even been considering buying the house he's been renting if Buck's aunt is willing to sell. Money isn't an issue for him and although he could just do nothing for the rest of his life, Tommy knows he's not going to be idle. His manager/agent does call to talk options. How Tommy really is wanted back on the US team and how his club was asking if he would return…and Tommy is torn. He doesn't think he can play the same as he did before the injury. His leg is better, but it isn't the same. Still, he starts to train more in part because it's what he does, but also because it's a distraction from thinking about Buck.

He runs every day. He starts taking a ball out in his backyard and practices. He pushes himself and his leg can hold up…just not for a full 90 minutes. Maybe 45 if he really gets himself fitter, but even then that's pushing it. He tells his manager to talk to the US coach and say he's available if they'll have him. To his surprise, Tommy does get called up for the USMNT. Tommy also makes the call to the coach of his Premiere League coach to officially quit. There's suggestions that he should go to the MLS, but Tommy isn't too sure about it.

8. Buck finds out through some locals that Tommy is leaving town. For a while he'd gotten hopeful because Tommy hadn't left, but he just couldn't make himself call Tommy and Tommy had stopped coming to the cafe, not that Buck could blame him. He was feeling kinda foolish for not just talking to Tommy and yelling at him instead and now he feels like it's too late.

It's Maddie that tells him Tommy has been announced as returning to the USA team.

So, Buck winds up looking into it and he learns that while Tommy is returning to the USMNT, he is not going back to the Premiere League. No one knows if he'll go to an MLS team, or if he's retiring after the World Cup, but one thing is clear is that Tommy is not going back to Europe. Buck decides to go talk to Tommy and he sees a woman (Tommy's new assistant who will be taking care of Honeydew while he's gone) leaving the house. It throws him off and he thinks that maybe Tommy already left town. So, he figures that is that. It's his aunt that clears that up a few days later because Tommy hasn't broken his lease or gotten a sub letter. So, Buck heads over to Tommy's again.

So, they talk. They have one of those perfect hallmark moments where they both apologize and explain and they tell each other they love each other and they kiss and everything seems to fall into place and Tommy explains how he will be going to the World Cup, but he is retiring because he liked the time he spent away from all of that and he liked not being constantly working towards being at peak performance. The diet, the work outs, the strict sleep schedule, the practice, the fear that he would get injured again even worse than he already had, and he didn't want to keep hiding his sexuality.

"But I want to go out on a high note and nothing is bigger than the World Cup. I want to say goodbye to the game properly and I want to show them who I really am."

9. Buck goes to the first USA group match, sitting in the section where the family members are. No one really questions him being there to his face, but there is a sense that he is being talked about. He gets to see Tommy play for the first time and Buck may know almost nothing about soccer, but he thinks Tommy is pretty good. The USA is not expected to do very well, but they make it out of the group stage and Buck is there for every match even if it means a bit of traveling, but at least the world cup is happening on American soil and the USMNT has been playing on the West Coast so he doesn't have to go very far. It's not like he's never left the bakery before for extended periods, so he knows his employees have it in hand and that his parents will stop by and check in on it. Tommy doesn't play a full game. He either starts and then is subbed out for the second half, or he subs in on the second, but Buck can tell that people love him and that they're excited to see him play.

Buck becomes a fixture at every game and he starts to understand soccer better and then the USA loses at the round of 16 and Tommy officially retires after the game ends, a pre-written announcement is made online and Tommy confirms with the journalists at the game. When asked what comes next, Tommy just mentions a quiet life with his boyfriend and that somehow becomes the biggest news out of that game.

It took every ounce of Buck’s self-control to not blurt out Evan’s deadname as he felt the pieces fall into place. That laugh, those eyes, and that goddamn blunt canine – hell, Buck even knew that the left tooth wasn’t as sharp because of an accident with a basketball, which had been the root of Buck’s hatred for the sport.

He’d been fourteen when he’d met Evan and had awkwardly asked him out to the movies. They’d been fifteen when they’d skipped school to celebrate their one-year anniversary by having sex for the first time, and sixteen when Buck experienced his first heartbreak when Mister Wright took a job in Denver, effectively breaking up their relationship. Initially, Buck and Evan had emailed each other daily, but that had died down by the third month. Buck moved on, started dating Sarah Zhang, and hadn’t thought of Evan until he’d tried to find him on MySpace years later, but had no luck. Buck realised in that moment that it was probably because he was looking for someone with the wrong name.

“Holy fuck. The last time I saw you, you were boarding a plane to Colorado.”

There was a quick gasp from Maddie, an ‘oh my God’ followed.

Buck noticed that Chim ducked his head in for her to whisper to him what she knew. That whisper was then passed on to Hen, then Karen, then Ravi and Eddie, because the one-eighteen was the best gossip mill outside of the trashy tabloids that still managed to exist in 2026.

They weren’t subtle about it.

“How’d you end up here? You’re a long way away from Hershey,” Evan asked, not at all bothered by the whispering.

“Well, I got out when I was nineteen, travelled a little. Actually made my way down to Peru for a bit. Came back up to become a firefighter here.”

There was an appreciative, almost hungry, way to how he sized up Buck. It made Buck preen a little.

“Explains why you’re bigger than an ox.” He looked around the table. “And your friends here all look a little beefy, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck cleared his throat. “This is my family at the one-eighteen.” He went around the table introducing everyone. “You’ve got Eddie and Ravi, Karen and her wife, Hen.”

Evan interrupted. “Of course, the prettiest woman in the bar would be a married lesbian,” he sighed, and Buck grinned while Hen played along. He was so charismatic – which was different to how Buck remembered him. Perhaps it was him being able to be who he was that made the difference.

“Lastly, we have Chim and Maddie.”

He gasped. “The Maddie?”

Buck laughed. “Yup, the Maddie. Maddie, guys, this is, well, Evan. My first, uh, first partner?”

“Oh my God,” Maddie said again and shuffled her way to the other side of Buck to give Evan a crushing hug. “I can’t believe I get to meet you! You were all Buck could talk about for like two years. How did you end up in LA?”

Evan shrugged. “Oh, the usual: lonely trans boy fell in love with his online Californian sugar daddy, who paid for all the surgeries, shows up to his home uninvited only to find out he already has a husband and a dog. I fear I’m deathly allergic to both.”

“Jesus.”

Before Buck could say anything else, Evan motioned towards his empty beer glass. “Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we can catch up?”

“You know what? I’d love that.”

Buck definitely caught Evan checking him out. Buck had seen that look plenty of times before – ten years ago, it would have resulted in Buck going home with a woman who looked at him like that.

Thank goodness he’d expanded that to men, too.

“The world is so small,” Buck said when they made it to the bar. “I can’t believe we’ve run into each other like this.”

“Right? I do see Mrs. Buckley pop up as a suggested friend on Facebook every now and then, but actually bumping into you in person? Fucking crazy.”

“You look good. Sorry it took me so long to put it together.”

Evan laughed and squeezed Buck’s bicep as they got to the bar. “You’ve tripled in size, I almost thought there was another guy with the same birthmark.” There was another squeeze. “Goddamn, Evan. How much do you lift?”

“I, uh, got by ‘Buck’ now. And not too much, just enough to keep me strong enough to lift unconscious people out of fires.” That got a scoff out of Evan so he flexed a little. “You know, they’re not for the aesthetic. I work out to save lives.”

“Does that line actually work, Buck?”

“All the time.”

At least it used to, back when he was all about picking up at bars and clubs.

“I’m not the only one who’s changed a lot, though.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought anyone would,” Evan admitted. “You do realise that all those times you went down on me, you were sucking my dick, right?”

Buck huffed out a laugh. “And here I was thinking Tommy’s dick was the first I’d sucked.”

“Sorry?”

“Not to mention all the straps before that.”

“Wait, what?”

Buck leant forward on his elbows with a grin. “What, you think you’re the only queer guy here?” He managed to finally grab the bartender’s attention, but Evan beat him to it.

“Two tequila shots, please.” He shot Buck a flirty look while the bartender turned to grab the bottle. “I’d say I never would have pegged you for queer, but it sounds like I really could peg you.”

“Oh my God.”

It was probably the deepest, fullest laugh Buck had enjoyed in over a year.

“Not that I’d have to. I had a brilliant surgeon.”

“I’m happy for you.”

The tequila, salt shaker, and lime slices were placed in front of them. “We'll need another round,” Evan said quickly before completing the salt-tequila-lime ritual faster than Buck had ever seen anyone accomplish it, and he’d seen it a lot from his time behind a bar (and as a patron).

“Wow.”

“Keep up, Buckley.”

Buck did as he was told. They’d given them the cheap stuff, the bottom shelf Blanco he would give out back during his bartending days to save the bar a buck or two. It made his throat burn and his teeth tingle for a moment before the lime left him wincing.

Goddamn, he was almost too old for tequila shots.

The second round appeared as quickly as the first. It disappeared in record time with Buck keeping pace with Evan.

“So what you’re saying is that I have a chance,” Evan said, handing his credit card over to the bartender to open a tab.

And if that was where it was going, Buck was certainly going to flirt back.

“A chance at what?”

He knew he was giving Evan that smile, the one where his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth for a moment to pull attention to his completely kissable lips.

“A chance to be your first and maybe next boyfriend.”

It was like he hit him with the water cannon.

Fuck.

Evan must’ve seen the change because he leant back a little.

“Did I come on too hard? Are you just after something casual?”

“No, no, it’s not…”

Fuck it, why did his feelings for Tommy have to ruin it? If he hadn’t loved him as much, hadn’t pushed for more, he might’ve still been with him.

Buck sighed. “I am so sorry, I’m not as over my ex as I thought I was. I, uh, was ready for him to be my first and last boyfriend, you know?”

Evan’s hand was warm and soothing along his spine. “Yeah, I know.”

“You deserve someone better than a guy who can’t move on.”

“Mm. Sounds to me like we both deserve more tequila.”

The next round tasted like bad decisions that hadn’t yet been made.

Which was crazy, because hopping into a Lyft after the bar had closed to tell Tommy that they could get back together because he wasn’t Buck’s first boyfriend seemed like the best decision ever.

Hindsight sure was 20/20.

Hindsight’s vision was far superior to Buck’s as he sat in the back of that Mazda, watching the lights of the street pass him on the way to Tommy’s home. They blurred in a way that was both pretty and made Buck dizzy.

He must have said something about it, because his driver barked at him about not throwing up in his car.

That had Buck scoffing, because he wasn’t so drunk that he’d vomit.

He had much better things to do, like reuniting with his ex-boyfriend, who would certainly take him back after hearing his bulletproof reason.

Buck felt a sense of vindication when they pulled into Tommy’s driveway without barfing. He might have stumbled slightly as he got out, but he did not vomit, not even a little bit.

The porch light switched on before Buck got to the door, which felt amazing, like Tommy was welcoming him home. He knocked on the door all of two raps before it swung open.

“Evan?”

He looked so good. Sleep-ruffled and comfortable. Buck missed seeing him like that.

“You’re not the first guy I dated,” Buck announced but had to slap his palms against the doorframe to keep himself upright.

It would be a hell of a lot easier to feel like he wasn’t going to fall over if Tommy’s house would stop fucking spinning.

“You’re not even the first guy I had sex with.”

Really, that was a shockingly difficult sentence to get out, though Buck wasn’t sure why.

“Evan…”

“That’s who was! Evan. Evan was the first.”

Tommy sighed. It was his judgemental sigh. “Masturbation doesn’t count.”

“What? No. Wrong Evan. Though, masturbation is great.”

“And I commend you for saying that so easily when you are so, so drunk.”

“Evan likes tequila.”

“Third person. That must have been a lot of tequila.” There was that sigh again. It kind of pissed Buck off that Tommy was sighing like that around him. “You’re not making it home tonight, and even if you did, I’d be scared to leave you on your own.”

“Why did Evan have to like tequila?” Buck mumbled, and then, oh God, the absolutely worst thing that could have happened fucking happened.

The tequila made a reappearance all over Tommy’s chest.

The damned Lyft driver was right. Fuck.

Buck wanted to die.

“Oh my God, Tommy, I am so…”

He at least turned his head and aimed for the garden bed that time, vomiting what was probably beer and the burger he’d eaten before Evan had re-entered his life.

“Okay, let’s get you into the bathroom,” he heard Tommy groan before his big, warm hands steered him through the house.

The rest of the night disappeared in a blur of shame.

-

The morning began with a healthy dose of mortification and hangover.

Buck woke to a splitting headache sometime much later than he usually woke in what, he was most embarrassed to realise, was Tommy’s spare bedroom.

There was a bucket by the bed, a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the bedside table, and what appeared to be clothes Buck had left but had never picked up following the break up.

“Fuck.”

He almost didn’t take the painkillers because he deserved the hangover for vomiting on Tommy after waking him up at whatever stupidly hour in the morning.

A massive part of Buck strongly considered sneaking out but Tommy must’ve considered that because Buck’s keys and phone were missing, so Buck took two pills, drained the glass of water, and flopped onto his back in the middle of the bed to fall back asleep until the meds kicked in.

When he woke up the second time, his head wasn’t pounding as bad as it had, and the house smelled of Tommy’s breakfast specials.

God, Buck loved him so much.

He also knew that Tommy deserved an explanation and the greatest apology a man could muster, so Buck forced himself up out of the bed and into the fresh new clothes before he stumbled out into the kitchen, where Tommy was clearly waiting for him.

His phone and keys sat in the middle of the kitchen table, placed there so Buck would have to talk to Tommy before he could leave.

“That’s cruel.”

“You threw up on me.”

“...point.”

Tommy pulled out a chair and motioned for Buck to sit down. He surprised Buck by then placing in front of him a large takeaway coffee Buck hadn’t noticed. The sweet scent of a caramel mocha made the cruelty worth it.

Buck had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something incredibly stupid, like he loved Tommy.

“How much of last night do you remember?” Tommy asked as he dished out breakfast.

Buck groaned miserably despite how good his coffee tasted. “All of it.”

A plate full of eggs and bacon and hash browns and toast landed in front of him, then Tommy sank into his own chair.

In another world, that could have been Tommy preparing breakfast for Buck as his partner, not some ex who’d bashed on his door at some stupid hour in the morning, drunk on booze and nostalgia.

That was devastating.

“Including the part where you implied that you jerking off meant I wasn’t your first?”

“I, uh, actually ran into my real first boyfriend last night. Lost my virginity to him when I was fifteen.”

Tommy had very expressive eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Great guy. Loves tequila. Transitioned when he turned eighteen and chose my name as his.” He paused for another sip of his coffee. “He, uh, made a joke about him being my first and next boyfriend, which reminded me of you…”

“After, I’m assuming, a lot of tequila?”

“I feel the correct measurement was a fuck-tonne of tequila, but yeah.”

“Hence you showing up at me door extremely drunk and throwing up on my daphne bush.”

“I am so sorry about that. The vomiting part. And the middle of the night part. But…but I’m not sorry that we’re here.”

Tommy made that hm sound he made to encourage Buck to continue.

And Buck decided he wasn’t going to hold back. He couldn’t, not if he wanted to get Tommy back in his life in any kind of capacity.

“So…look. I don’t get it. Yes, you are the first man I’ve dated, but it’s not like I’ve never been in a relationship before. Yes, having sex with a man, being in love with a man, was all new to me, but being in a relationship was not. You wouldn’t have been the first partner I lived with. You were, however, the first one I saw a real future with.”

The drunker version of him had imagined a much different outcome, but the ‘hey, you’re not my first boyfriend, let’s get back together’ plan wouldn’t have worked in the long run anyway. They needed to talk it out and get to the bottom of their concerns.

“And you know what? I still want it. I still want you. I have dated and fucked and been single and learnt how to be alone again and I still want you. I still want to be with you.”

Buck let out a shuddering breath.

“But I get it. I messed up that morning. You said you wanted to try again and I blew it by saying whatever it was that I said…”

“That you didn’t need to have feelings for me to sleep with me,” Tommy paraphrased.

“Right. Fuck.” It hadn’t been Buck’s greatest moment. “That’s not what I meant, though. I meant, like, what I said before. I’ve done that, casual sex and one-night-stands, because I’m not new to this. To dating. I’ve done that and I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to be with you. Even after all this time, I want to be with you.”

And there it was, his cards all out on the table. Nothing but the truth.

The time it took for Tommy to say anything made Buck ill. Sure, part of it was the hangover, but the wait was just…

“I’m sorry.”

Oh.

Buck was scared he was going to throw up again. He wasn’t sure there was anything in his stomach except for the few sips of his caramel mocha, but the fear was definitely there.

“No, I mean…” Tommy reached out and grabbed Buck’s hand.

It reminded him of their first coffee date, the one where Buck had bought him the worst coffee in the world, but Tommy had been so interested that he’d agreed to be his date for Maddie’s wedding.

The hope also made him feel unwell.

“I’m so…scared of what you could do to me. I don’t think you realise how easy it is to fall in love with you, and how hard it is to get over you, Evan.” When Buck opened his mouth to argue the obvious, Tommy raised his free hand to motion for him to stop. “Please. I know what you’re going to say and you’re wrong, and I hate that you think that way because you are an amazing person and I am tired of knowing that and loving you and not being with you, especially since we have seen how easily everything can be taken away from us.”

Oh.

“So, while I am a little upset about the midnight vomiting, I am glad that you ran into your first boyfriend.”

Oh.

“I want to try again. I want to do what I can to try to be your last.”

-

Evan had been Buck’s first boyfriend.