Bucktommy Winter Fest

So when, three days after the breakup, he came into his shift to find Marco from the B-shift freaking out because he just realized he would be scheduled to work Thanksgiving that year and he had promised his wife the year before that he would get the day off, Tommy told the man that he would be willing to change shifts - no strings attached. 

“Are you sure, man?” Marco had asked for the third time. 

“Yes, alright, It’s fine,” Tommy said. “Unless you’re saying that you actually want to work?” 

“No! No!” Marco shook his head. “Of course not!”

Later that day, Lucy cornered him getting down from one of the helicopters. “Did you only offer to take Thanksgiving so you wouldn’t be alone?” she asked. 

Tommy grunted as he got down to the ground. “No,” he said. If anything, it was the opposite. He offered to take it so he could be alone, and not have anyone pestering him about it. It was the perfect excuse really, no one would be pestering him about him needing to be around people and not secluding himself after his breakup if he was taking someone’s shift at the firehouse and out saving lives… right?

Anyway, now the shift was over, and even though they had gotten surprisingly very few calls, his Captain had insisted he could take the next four days off and get back on the regular A-shift schedule afterwards. So now he was driving home, thinking about what he could do for the next four days. 

Maybe he should get a dog, he thought to himself. That was something he had thought often about over the years, but he had always talked himself out of it with the knowledge that the 24 hour shifts he worked would never allow for it, even if he occasionally brought his dog into work. Maybe if things had actually worked out with buck they could work something out about dog ownership between them, but that was a lost cause now. It had been almost a month and he hadn’t even said two words to the man.

In the first week after the breakup, he had found himself almost texting Buck more times than he could count. It had quickly become a habit over the six months they were together. The only times they weren’t together was when one of them was working. And even on those days, if they weren’t out on a call or doing some other task around their stations, they were almost always texting each other. 

But Tommy held firm and resisted sending a message each time he so desperately wanted to. Whether it was to ask for Buck’s opinion on something, or send him some meme he knew Buck would find funny, or even to just make sure the man was doing alright. Tommy knew that, in the end, Buck would be okay. He had a large support system within the 118 to make sure he would be alright. 

As the spotify playlist he had been listening to switched to some song he had never heard before, and certainly wasn’t his style, Tommy turned down his street and drove up to his house. At first glance, nothing looked out of place. The trash can was still in the same location it always was on a non collection day, the two lawn ornaments the previous owners had left him in the same state of still needing a quick hosedown, and the branches on his neighbor's tree really needed to be cut if he wanted to be able to open his windows again come next summer. 

Then, on a second look, he saw something in front of his front door. Well more than a little something…

“What the-?” Tommy spoke to himself as he drove his truck up his driveway and placed it in park. That was… there was a dog lying there… a big yellow golden retriever. “What the hell?” he asked himself as he parked his truck and got out. 

He slowly walked up to his door, not wanting to spook the animal, and the dog lifted its head up, watching him. Tommy noticed that, even though his tail was wagging furiously, the dog was still lying down, blocking Tommy’s way to the door. 

Tommy looked down at the ground and laughed to himself, figures that he would be sent a dog when he had been moping to himself on his drive home. 

Tommy sighed as he walked up and crouched in front of the dog, slowly holding his hand out for the dog to sniff. 

Tommy had thought the dog might be apprehensive and slowly take the time to sniff Tommy before getting comfortable. Instead, the dog nearly jumped onto his chest, borrowing into Tommy and knocking him to the group, lapping at his face. 

“Okay, okay,” Tommy tried to breathe around the dog’s tongue slobbering around his face. Eventually he was able to get out from under the dog and wiped some of the dirt off of his shirts and pants that had gotten there in their small tussle. 

Then Tommy took a quick glance up and down his street, not seeing anyone. It wasn’t that common, but it happened occasionally, one of his neighbors’ dogs getting out and wandering into people’s yards. But usually the owners would be out looking for them and calling their names. Tommy didn’t see anyone though. 

Now that Tommy thought about it though, he never remembered seeing a golden retriever like this one before. There were a handful of people on his street who had dogs, and Tommy thought he knew and could recognize most of them. Maybe someone had come to visit for Thanksgiving, bringing their dog with them? Maybe this dog had somehow gotten out without anyone realizing it in the chaos that post holiday celebrations brought?

Tommy sighed. All he really wanted to do was take the extra pie Johnson had given him this morning and eat his heart out on his couch. It seemed he would have to find the owner of this dog first. 

“Let’s go find your owner,” Tommy said as he walked to the sidewalk. The dog let out a small humming moan as he followed after Tommy. 

Tommy walked up to his nextdoor neighbor, an elderly couple who always had their kids and grandkids visiting them during the holidays, probably the most likely candidates for a new dog to the neighborhood, and rang the doorbell.

It opened to two kids who had to be only a couple years older than Jee, and most likely way too young to be opening the door to strangers. “Jake, who is it?” he heard an adult’s voice ask from somewhere deeper in the house. 

The boy turned around and ran back into the house, yelling “I don’t know,” as he left his sister standing in front of Tommy.

“Oh, what did I tell you about answering the door to strangers,” a woman said as she walked up to the door. “Molly, go play with your brother,” she said to the girl. 

“But he has a puppy!” the girl said, pointing at the dog who stood behind Tommy. 

“Yeah,” Tommy spoke up. “I live next door and saw him sitting outside my front door when I got home this morning. Just wanted to see if he was your’s or anything.”

The woman hummed as she took a quick glance at the dog. “Sorry,” she said as she held her daughter’s shoulder, stopping her from running at the dog. “We don’t have a dog.” 

Everyone else on his street had similar responses. “We’ve never seen that dog before.” “Sorry, he isn’t ours.” “He’s not ours, but try that guy at the end of the street, his dogs are always getting out.” 

Tommy knew who they were talking about there. But he had also run into those dogs enough times to know he had two brown and black boxers, not a golden retriever.

Tommy let out a long sigh as he looked at the dog rolling around in his front yard. He couldn’t just go inside his house and leave the dog out here, could he? No, there was one more thing he could try. He took his phone out of his pocket, pulling up his camera and taking a picture of the dog. The dog must have heard the soft *snap* for his head perked up and turned to look directly at Tommy. Tommy turned to his front door then. “How about I go find you a snack inside?” he asked. 

Ten minutes later, Tommy had given the dog some leftover pieces of turkey and they were both sitting on Tommy’s couch. Tommy, having found some movies to watch on TV, the dog curled up and laying against Tommy’s side. 

If there was one thing, the dog was remarkably friendly.

Tommy flicked through his phone, finding the Facebook app and scrolling through until he found his neighborhood facebook group. He had never posted anything in it before, and only really joined it at the insistence of one of the neighbors when he first moved in. When he quickly realized it was mostly people just selling random things they wanted to get rid of, he largely ignored it. He uploaded the picture of the dog he had taken earlier and typed a message “Does this dog belong to anyone? Found him outside of my house this morning and stopped by a couple houses on the block, no one recognized him.” After that, he pressed post, and sat back and just waited for any responses to come in. 

Two hours later, he had eaten half of the pie, finished some Hallmark movie he couldn't remember the name of despite just watching it, and had the dog half in his lap when he picked up his phone again. He saw the post he made earlier had two responses, neither claiming ownership of the dog. 

One read, “Never seen that boy either. But he’s a cutie! Hope you find his owner ♥️” That wasn’t really helpful. 

The other was just a string of heart and smiley emojis, which also didn’t help him. 

Tommy dropped his head onto the cushion behind him as he ran his hand through the dog’s fur. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked himself. 

Buck let out a satisfied groan as he slid into the bubbly water, his back coming to comfortably against Tommy's firm chest. The warm water engulfing him did wonders for his aching joints, and Tommy's arms instantly wrapping around his middle made him feel safe and loved.

He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the rose petals Tommy had strewn about, as well as the many, many candles that lit up the bathroom and doused it in gentle twilight.

The candles gave off a gentle vanilla scent, Buck's favorite. Butterflies gathered in his stomach at the realization that Tommy had remembered, even though he had only mentioned it in passing a few weeks ago.

Tommy cupped a handful of water and gently let it fall over Buck's chest, the sweat and grime of a long day of fighting fires and saving cats washing off his body, along with the tension in his shoulders. Buck couldn't help a sigh escaping his mouth.

"Happy Anniversary, Evan," Tommy mumbled into Buck's locks in between kisses to his neck and shoulders.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“This is firefighter pilot Thomas Kinard, Station 217. We’ve got a Safe Haven Baby.”

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“LAFD, we’re here to help!” Chimney’s voice rang through the bay the moment the 118’s ambulance had killed its engine. Tommy, who had settled down back in the community area with the baby, couldn’t help but roll his eyes with a fond smile as he got up to meet them. Some things truly never changed. “You know, it’s really weird to get sent to a different fire station. Where is everyone?”

“Out on a call,” Tommy answered, waving Chim and Hen over, the small bundle, wrapped in a pale blue, clearly hospital issued blanket, pressed to his chest. “Mass pileup on the interstate, they’ve been gone for the last three hours.”

The paramedics stopped for a second and simply stared at Tommy and the baby cradled in his arms before sharing a quick glance. Tommy held himself back from rolling his eyes at them. He hated when they did their stupid telepathy we-read-each-other’s-minds thing. It somehow always ended with either a truly horrific diagnosis or him as the butt end of whatever joke they were cooking up.

“And you’ve just been here alone with this one this whole time?” Hen asked, dropping her bag onto the dining table as soon as she entered the backroom, immediately digging around in it.

Tommy shrugged, adjusting his hold on Little Man, as he’d started calling him, who grabbed onto his uniform shirt in response. Almost instinctively, Tommy pulled him closer to his chest in the process. “Wasn’t much of a choice. I’m Man Behind today, and around half an hour ago, the baby box started screaming.”

Chimney’s eyebrow met his hairline. He shared another suspicious look with Hen, one that Tommy somehow liked even less than the one before. “So, how is the little stinker?” Chim asked, turning back to him with a grin that was decidedly not real. He knew what Howard Han’s grins looked like, and that was not it. “You two best buds yet, or what?”

“Oh, he wishes!” Tommy scoffed playfully, deciding to ignore the not-at-all-convincing expression, the corners of his mouth ticking upward as he looked down at Little Man, rocking him gently. “He’s actually eternally on my craplist because he peed on me when I changed him and now my shirt smells like piss.” He started tickling Little Man’s belly, drawing out a few small grunts that could almost be mistaken for a laugh if you were feeling generous, his cheeks growing even rosier than his already pink skin. “You’re a little pee machine, huh?”

Hen’s expression softened, though there was something in her eyes that Tommy couldn’t quite place. She hesitated for a moment before finally pulling a stethoscope out of her bag. “Alright, baby boy,” she said, reaching for the baby. “Time to see how you really are.”

Almost instinctively, Tommy took a step back, pulling Little Man closer. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Can you do it while I hold him?”

Hen and Chimney both froze for a split second before exchanging yet another one of their silent conversations. Tommy immediately regretted speaking. He didn’t know why, but there was something about the idea of handing over the baby that made his chest tighten just a little too much. He could feel the tiny fingers gripping his uniform a little harder, as if Little Man could sense his unease.

“Tommy…” Hen’s voice was careful, measured, but her eyes were scanning him just as much as they were assessing the baby. “I need to check him properly. It’s not that I don’t trust you—it’s just that I need full access, and that’s going to be easier if we put him on the table.”

Tommy sighed, glancing down at Little Man’s face. He was wide-eyed, blinking up at him like he was waiting to see what would happen next. His tiny fist still had a death grip on the fabric of Tommy’s shirt.

It was stupid, really. Hen and Chim had to see if Little Man was sick or had any kind of injuries, that was the whole entire point of them even coming here. But the thought of letting go, even just for a moment, made his stomach twist. His grip on Little Man tightened, his fingers refusing to let go.

Chimney cleared his throat. “Hey, man. We’re not taking him away from you. Hen just needs to check him out, make sure he’s alright. You do want him to be alright, don’t you?”

Tommy’s jaw worked for a moment, like he was chewing over a thousand words but unsure which one to spit out. His arms were locked around the baby, protective in a way that made both Hen and Chimney pause. Not because they didn’t understand, but because they did.

Of course he wanted the kid to be okay. That wasn’t even a question.

He looked back down at Little Man—those big, unblinking, deep brown eyes, the way his tiny fingers were still clenched in his shirt like it was the only solid thing in the world. Maybe it was, for now.

Finally, Tommy sighed again. Longer this time. He bent slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of the baby’s head before murmuring, “Alright, alright, I hear you. Just don’t go swapping him out for another one while I’m not looking.”

Hen smiled gently, but didn’t make a joke. Didn’t even try. She just nodded and motioned toward the dining table, which Tommy reluctantly walked to, still holding Little Man like he was made of glass.

The second Tommy set him down on the blanket Hen had spread over the table, the baby whimpered, reaching out with those same grabbing hands. Tommy reflexively touched one, offering a finger to hold onto. Little Man latched on instantly, calming just a little.

Chim stayed nearby, a soft presence just over Hen’s shoulder while she worked. Her hands were confident and careful, checking pulse, respiration, pupils. She rolled back the blanket to inspect the baby’s body, her face still and unreadable the whole time.

Tommy kept his eyes trained on her movements, and something about how tense his posture stayed made Chimney nudge him lightly with an elbow.

“You okay, man?” Chim said, voice low.

“I’m fine,” Tommy said automatically. Then, realizing how robotic it sounded, added, “Just... I dunno. He’s been with me for the last half hour. Feels weird just... standing over here now.”

Hen looked up briefly at that, locking eyes with Chim for another one of their split-second exchanges. This one seemed less diagnostic and more... personal.

Hen finished her exam and gently pulled the blanket back up. “He’s alright,” she said, smoothing it down with a touch that bordered on maternal. “Vitals are solid. A little dehydrated, maybe, but nothing alarming. He was probably born sometime in the last day or two.”

Chim let out a low breath. “No injuries, no bruising?”

Hen shook her head. “Clean. Someone cared enough to drop him off safely. That’s something.”

Tommy was already scooping Little Man back up, the second she gave the okay. The baby curled into his chest again like that’s where he belonged. And maybe, just maybe, he did. For now.

Hen was packing up her bag when she glanced at Tommy again, this time with something quieter in her expression. “You good if we call in social services? That’s protocol with Safe Haven babies—they’ll send someone over to take custody until a foster placement is found.”

Tommy stiffened. His arms unconsciously pulled Little Man in tighter. “Yeah. I mean... yeah, of course.”

But he didn’t look at either of them when he said it.

Chim leaned against the edge of the table, watching him with a level of gentleness Tommy wasn’t sure how to deal with. “You thinking about keeping him?”

Tommy blinked, startled. “What? No. No, I—I wouldn’t even—”

“You wouldn’t be the first firefighter who’s thought about it,” Hen said quietly, zipping her bag closed. “You’re not the first one to get attached, either.”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked down at Little Man, at those tiny lashes and the soft puff of breath against his chest. The room was warm, still, and for a second it felt like nothing else existed outside this strange, still moment.

“I just don’t like the idea of him going to some stranger,” Tommy said finally, his voice rough. “He was crying when I found him. Screaming. Then the second I picked him up, he stopped. Just... stopped.”

Hen walked over, rested a hand lightly on his arm. “I get it. Karen and I have fostered enough kids over the years for me to know how easy it is to get attached.”

Tommy didn’t answer right away. He just looked down at Little Man again, brushing his thumb along the soft edge of his cheek, watching how the tiny face scrunched up and then relaxed like he was dreaming something peaceful. The thought of handing him off to some well-meaning stranger in a clean button-up shirt who’d read his name off a clipboard made his stomach twist all over again.

Hen didn’t push. Neither did Chim. For all their teasing and telepathy, they both knew when to shut up and let someone sit in it for a while.

After a long beat, Tommy finally said, “What would Evan and I have to do to get started?”

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“You want to adopt a baby?”

“Not adopt!” Tommy said, following Buck out of the kitchen into their living room. “Foster!”

“With Safe Haven babies that’s pretty much the same thing!”

“We said we wanted kids someday, right?”

“Keyphrase ‘someday!’” Buck exclaimed, putting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table with a bit more force than was necessary. He flinched, cursing himself out before turning around to face Tommy, who carried their beers. This was not how Buck had imagined their movie night. “Not a month after you move into my house! What makes you think we’re anywhere near that stage?”

“Because life never goes according to plan, Evan,” Tommy replied, voice gentle but firm as he handed Buck his beer. He watched Buck closely, waiting for the tense lines of his shoulders to soften, but Buck remained stiff, uncertainty etched in his eyes. Tommy sighed and set his own beer down untouched. “Listen, I didn’t wake up today expecting this either. But you should have seen him, Evan. Tiny and helpless, screaming his little lungs out until I picked him up. He just…trusted me. Immediately.”

Buck groaned softly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Of course he did, Tommy. Everyone trusts you. Kids, adults, dogs. Hell, Chief Simpson trusts you implicitly, and you stole a chopper once!”

Tommy cracked a small smile, stepping closer to his partner. “Look, I get it. It’s sudden, it’s crazy, and honestly, it scares the hell out of me too. But I can’t shake this feeling, Evan. That little boy needs us right now. He deserves someone who wants him, not someone who just checks him off a list on a clipboard.”

Buck’s expression softened at that, but worry still lingered in his eyes. “I understand where you’re coming from, Tommy. I really do. But have considered the logistics of all of this? I mean, we need a crib-”

“Hen says she and Karen still have Denny’s old one.”

“-and—and clothes-”

“Chim said we can have the ones Kevin’s grown out of. He and Maddie have a lot.”

“-and we’re both First Responders,” Buck finished with an exasperated sigh, letting himself fall down on the couch. “We both work 24- and 48-hour shifts, are they even gonna clear us?”

“I’ll quit my job and be a stay-at-home-dad.”

Buck’s eyes widened. He stared up at Tommy like he’d just sprouted a second head, his mouth hanging open. “You what?”

“I’m not saying I want to.” Tommy shrugged, clearly trying to play it cool, though his eyes betrayed how nervous he was. “But I would, if it came down to it. If that’s what it takes.”

Blinking, Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You’re serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my entire life, Evan.”

There was a long silence. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the fridge and the muted rustle of the wind outside their windows. Tommy didn’t move. He was waiting for Buck to respond, but Buck wasn’t sure how to.

Because this was huge, right? Tommy was serious serious about this baby, far more than Buck had anticipated. He sank deeper into the couch, the weight of everything settling onto his chest like the baby himself had curled up there. He rubbed at his temple, heart pounding a little faster than he’d like to admit. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. They were supposed to be eating popcorn, watching one of Tommy’s rom-coms, maybe falling asleep halfway through with Tommy’s head on his shoulder. Not talking about cribs and foster care and quitting jobs.

He looked up at Tommy—earnest, steady Tommy, with that frustratingly calm expression that only surfaced when he’d already made up his mind. And Buck knew that face. Had seen it in arguments on the fire line, during wild rescues, hell, even the day Tommy showed up at his door with a duffel bag and that crooked half-smile, asking if he was serious about them trying this “living together” thing so soon after getting back together.

Now, Tommy looked the same. Steady. Sure.

And that terrified the hell out of Buck.

“You know,” he said eventually, looking at Tommy again. “I’m supposed to be the impulsive one in this relationship.”

Tommy chuckled, just once. “Yeah, well. I guess spending enough time around you rubbed off on me.”

Buck gave a tight smile, but there was still a war behind his eyes. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, twirling the cool bottle slowly between his palms. “Tommy… this isn’t like adopting a dog or a cat or something. This is a baby. A real-life, tiny human who will depend on us for everything.”

“I know,” Tommy said quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

Buck let out a breath, loud and shaky. “And what if it doesn’t work out? What if we get attached and then he gets taken away? Or we mess him up somehow?”

Tommy moved to sit beside him on the couch, not too close, not trying to crowd him, but just enough to grab his hand and squeeze it tight. “Then we’ll handle it. Together. We learned how to do that, right?”

Buck glanced at him, feeling the warmth of Tommy’s palm in his. He looked up into his eyes, seeing the familiar crinkles of Tommy’s signature smile around them. Somehow, they, along with the blue shine of his irises, were the most convincing thing in the universe.

“You really think we could do this?”

“I think,” Tommy said, voice soft but sure, squeezing Buck’s hand ever tighter, “we already are.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Buck stared down at the floor, processing, while Tommy waited, patient as always. It was one of the things Buck had admired about him from the start—that unwavering calm, even when everything felt like it was crashing down. He hated how much it could piss him off, sometimes. But mostly, he just needed it. Especially now.

“You’re gonna be one of those annoying PTA dads, aren’t you?”

Tommy’s smile widened into a grin, his eyes glinting teasingly. “Absolutely. Color-coordinated binders and all. I learned from the best in that regard.”

Buck couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him. What an ass. “Using my own powers against me? Diabolical!”

Tommy, on the other hand, didn’t say anything anymore. He just kept smiling, and Buck knew exactly why. He’d seen the shift. The crack in his resistance. He didn’t push, just sat there quietly until Buck opened his mouth again.

“Okay,” he said, his shoulders somehow feeling lighter than they had all afternoon. “Okay. I…I want to meet him first before we make a decision, but…okay. Let’s look into it.”

Buck could hardly brace himself before Tommy pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

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“You realize this is highly unconventional, I hope?” Diedra asked with a sigh, leading Tommy and Buck down the hall of the receiving center. “Not to mention illegal. I’m risking my entire career here.”

Tommy didn’t flinch. “We understand that. And we appreciate it!” he nodded, always a step behind her. He was basically vibrating and Buck wondered just what kind of magical powers that baby held to get him like that. “We just want a chance to see if this is something that could work—for all of us.”

Diedra stopped in front of a door and turned to face them, arms crossed, a weariness in her posture that only came from too many years navigating the system. “You’re not licensed. You haven’t even completed the background checks. There are protocols in place for a reason.”

Buck, who had been quiet since they’d stepped into the building, took a step forward. “We’re not trying to cut corners. We’ll do everything by the book. Training, home inspections, fingerprints if you want them. Whatever we need to. I just want a chance to meet him before we make a decision.”

Fixing them with a sceptical look, her arms crossed in front of her chest, Diedra let out a sigh. “Hen and Karen said you’re a couple? Living together?”

“Yes.”

Buck shot Tommy a quick glance. The answer had been short and to the point, and very distinctly failed to mention that them living together was a more recent thing. He wasn’t sure if Tommy actually thought that they could keep that part a secret for long or not, but for now, he decided to play along.

Diedra looked between the two men for a long moment, her gaze lingering on Buck, who looked like he was trying very hard not to bounce out of his skin. Finally, she sighed again, this time heavier. “Five minutes. That’s all I can give you right now. And if anyone asks, I never saw you.”

“Thank you.” Tommy said, grabbing Diedra’s hand and clutching it between his own. “Seriously. I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to us.”

Diedra gave a tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t thank me until I don’t get fired over this.” Then, turning sharply on her heel, she swiped her badge over the reader and pushed open the heavy door.

The nursery was quiet. Dim lighting cast soft golden halos across pale green walls, and a mobile of stars and moons turned lazily above a crib near the far wall. The space was small, efficient, the kind of room designed for neutrality. It was neither warm, nor cold. Not too comforting, and not too sterile. It was built to feel temporary. Transitory. Not meant to be remembered.

That alone almost made Buck make up his mind. No child should be in a room like this, especially not a baby.

Tommy stepped forward first, his breath hitching the moment he spotted the small bundle lying in the crib. He didn’t say a word, just moved, like gravity pulled him forward. Buck stayed a step behind, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the tiny figure that looked even smaller than he had imagined.

Little Man was awake, his eyes drifting toward the sound of the door, dark and curious. There was no wailing, no panic. Just that soft, quiet alertness Tommy had mentioned. As Tommy approached, Little Man blinked up at him and let out a tiny grunt, one that almost made Buck’s heart melt.

Tommy’s face lit up, as if someone had ignited a candle behind his eyes. “Hi, buddy. Remember me?” He whispered, leaning over the crib.

Little Man’s eyes widened with a small noise, his tiny fists flailing around, almost as if he recognized the voice. Tommy reached in carefully gathering the baby in his arms. And, just like he had told Buck two days ago, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Little Man curled against his chest, his little hand instantly grabbing Tommy’s shirt again.

Watching them, Buck felt something unexpected twist in his gut.

He was used to seeing Tommy with kids—Jee and Kevin, mostly—but this was different. Tommy wasn’t just good with this baby; he fit. Like some missing piece of him had clicked into place the moment he held that bundle. And God help him, Buck felt the shift. He felt it happen.

Tommy turned back toward him, smile soft, eyes wet. “Evan,” he said, voice low, reverent. “Say hi.”

Buck stepped forward, slower than he meant to, trying to suppress the million thoughts racing through his brain. He stood beside Tommy, his eyes flicking between his Partner and the baby tucked snug against his chest.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “You’re a cuddly little guy, huh?”

As if on cue, Little Man made a soft noise and smacked a tiny fist into Tommy’s collarbone. “He gets violent when he’s hungry,” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye.

Buck let out a shaky breath. Tommy was already in too deep, it seemed, but it wasn’t like he could fault him for that. He had only just met Little Man and was already falling under his spell just as much. Biting his lip, he reached out, hesitating just for a moment, then slowly offered a finger. The baby’s free hand latched on almost instantly, warm and impossibly small, barely big enough to fully grasp what Buck was offering.

And that was it. That tiny grip was all it took.

The dam cracked.

Something Buck hadn’t realized he’d been holding inside released, flooding his chest with something big and unfamiliar. Fear, sure. Uncertainty, absolutely. But also awe. Connection. That unshakable feeling that this mattered.

“He’s perfect.”

“I know.”

They stayed like that for seemingly hours, yet only seconds. The warmth of Little Man’s hand around his finger had Buck almost weep, and the ever widening grin on Tommy’s face he could see out of the corners of his eyes told him that he knew how gone on this baby he had gotten in just the two seconds (that somehow were also two hours) they’d been here.

“Time’s up.”

Tommy didn’t flinch at Diedra’s voice, though Buck could see his face falling slightly. He held Little Man for a moment longer, pressing a kiss to his forehead before slowly, carefully, tucking him back into the crib. His hand lingered just a second too long on the baby’s blanket, like letting go physically hurt.

And it apparently wasn’t just Tommy and Buck who felt that way. The moment Tommy’s hand left him, Little Man’s face began to scrunch up, a tiny sob escaping him that quickly became a full blown wail.

Tommy’s face crumpled with it, like each of those sobs was a tug on some thread knotted deep inside his chest. He took a half-step forward, then stopped himself with visible effort, hands fisted at his sides.

Buck stood frozen too, sucking in a, looking from the crib to Tommy, then to Diedra. “Can’t we just—?”

“No,” she said gently but firmly, already reaching past them to scoop Little Man up. “You’re not cleared. I shouldn’t have let you in at all.”

The baby’s cries echoed through the quiet room like a siren, piercing and frantic. His arms flailed in the air like he was reaching for something—or someone—he couldn’t see anymore.

Tommy turned away, rubbing the back of his neck with a shaking hand. Buck could see his body tensing, every muscle going stiff at once, every instinct in Tommy’s head screaming to reach back in and calm the baby down, to fix this.

“I’ll walk you out,” Diedra offered, her voice tight, as she cradled the baby against her shoulder. He kept crying, his sobs intersected by hiccups.

Tommy didn’t reply, just nodded, jaw clenched. Buck followed him in silence as they walked down the sterile corridor again, footsteps swallowed by the carpeted floor. When they reached the double doors to the exit, Diedra hesitated.

“You two are serious?” she asked softly, bouncing the baby a little in her arms. He wasn’t calming down.

Tommy turned back to her, his eyes a little red-rimmed now but locked with hers, steady as ever. “Dead serious.”

“And you’re willing to go through the process? The classes, the interviews, the paperwork, the wait?”

“Yes.”

Buck startled a little at the immediacy of his own voice, surprised it came from his mouth. But he meant it. Diedra looked between them again, her arms still rocking the now-fussy baby.

“If you are,” she said finally, “then don’t waste time. I’ll be over on Monday for the home inspection. Have the forms and letters of recommendation ready by then. The Wilsons, at least, but the more the better.”

Tommy nodded, swallowing hard as he met Diedra’s gaze. “We’ll be ready.”

Diedra gave a short nod of acknowledgment, then glanced down at the still-crying baby in her arms. “He’s not going to forget you, you know,” she said softly, almost to herself. “Babies this young… they remember safety. Warmth. A voice. He imprinted on you.” She looked up again, her expression softer this time. “Don’t make him wait too long.”

With that, the door clicked shut behind her.

For a long moment, Tommy and Buck stood in the chill of the early evening, the sun low and golden, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Buck’s shoulders were slumped, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. Tommy exhaled shakily, turning his face up to the sky as if looking for an answer in the clouds.

“I wasn’t ready to leave him,” he said finally, a slight tremor to his voice.

“I know,” Buck murmured. He reached over, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. “I wasn’t either.”

Tommy didn’t say anything, only gave Buck’s hand a gentle squeeze. For reassurance most likely.

They stood there until the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in dusky orange and purple hues. Neither of them moved until Buck finally cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, trying for casual and failing, “letters of recommendation. You think Bobby’ll write one without grilling us into next week?”

A short laugh escaped Tommy at that. “He’ll write three. And you know Eddie will, too.”

“Hen and Karen already said we could count on them.”

“And Chim and Maddie.” Tommy gave a small smile. “We’ve got people.”

With a low hum, Buck studied him for a few seconds. “You still really willing to quit your job if that’s what it takes?”

Tommy’s jaw ticked, and for a second, Buck thought he might backtrack. But then he exhaled deeply. “Yeah. I love what I do, Evan. But that baby…” His voice faltered. “I’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant that we get to love him.”

His breath hitching, Buck swallowed hard, his heart swelling and aching at once. Yeah, Tommy was serious about this. Far more serious than Buck had actually anticipated. And the worst part was, Buck understood. One look at Little Man had been all it took for him to lose all sense of reason, apparently.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said eventually. “We always do.”

Tommy finally looked at him again, their eyes locking. “This isn’t just me jumping the gun and pulling you into something, right? You’re just as in as I am?”

Buck stepped closer, both hands cupping Tommy’s face, thumbs brushing away the unshed tears at the corners of his eyes before pulling him in for a short kiss.

“I’m just as in as you,” he confirmed firmly after pulling away. “We’re a team. If we’re doing this…” He paused. “We’re doing it together.”

Tommy leaned into the touch, eyes closing for a moment as if grounding himself in that promise. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Buck echoed.

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

Chimney loved Hen. He really did. She was his best friend, his sister in all but blood, his work partner, his ride-or-die.

But also, he hated her.

“Hen, please, the banner is fine!”

“Don’t you dare let go of it, Han!” Hen called back up, her hands on her hips. “Buck and Tommy are about to bring their first baby through that door, and if this banner isn’t 100%, absolutely straight by then, so help me!”

“Uh, Buck and Tommy aren’t straight, though,” Ravi, who stood on the ladder opposite Chim’s, said, pleading eyes looking down at Hen. “Maybe the banner shouldn’t be either?”

Hen stopped in her tracks, her eyes flicking up toward Ravi like she was trying to decide whether to laugh or throttle him. Chim could see the exact moment her lips twitched. “Ravi,” she said, voice painfully patient, “if I didn’t like you so much, I’d make you redo the entire balloon arch for that joke.”

Chim snorted, wobbling a little on the ladder. “He’s not wrong, though.”

“Focus, you two!” Hen barked, but she was smiling now, even as she moved to fluff one of the paper streamers hanging from the awning above the patio. “We only get one shot at a first welcome home, and I am not letting those two walk into anything less than perfection.”

From his perch, Chim glanced around Buck and Tommy’s backyard and had to admit it. Hen had outdone herself. Again.

There were balloons and banners, baby blue and soft yellow, the kind that looked like they’d been pulled straight from Pinterest. The “Welcome Home, Little Man!” banner atop a wooden arch adorned with more balloons was the centerpiece, flanked by stars and moons that Ravi had apparently painstakingly hand-cut the night before. The table was stacked with finger food and cupcakes, (prepared by Bobby for most of the previous night) and the massive diaper cake in the center was wrapped in cellophane and adorned with a little stuffed Dalmatian wearing a toy fire helmet.

“Should’ve made this a potluck,” Chim muttered as he adjusted the banner one last time. “You know Maddie’s gonna roast me for not bringing the good egg rolls.”

“She’d roast you either way,” Hen replied smoothly.

“Okay, fair.”

“Guys,” Eddie’s voice called from the garage, “they just pulled up!”

Hen immediately sprang into action like she was commanding a scene on a multi-car pileup. “Places, people!” she snapped, sweeping a streamer out of Chim’s hands. “I want everyone where they’re meant to be now!”

Chim scrambled off the ladder while Ravi nearly tripped coming down his own. From somewhere behind the grill, Bobby emerged with a dish towel still slung over his shoulder. “Where’s the kids?” he asked, brushing his hands off on his apron.

“Inside,” Eddie called back. “Karen’s got ’em watching cartoons so they don’t blow the surprise.”

“You mean like we’re in a sitcom?” Ravi asked as he quickly ducked under the archway. “Does this count as a surprise party if they literally know we’re here?”

Hen didn’t bother answering. Chim saw her fluffing a final decoration as he hurried to his spot, eyes sweeping the yard like her life depended on it. And then—

The sound of tires crunching gravel.

Everyone froze.

The gate to the side yard swung open.

And then Buck appeared first, stepping into the backyard with a wide-eyed, slightly overwhelmed expression that turned into a startled laugh as everyone shouted “Welcome home!”

Behind him, Tommy stepped through holding the baby carrier like it was made of glass, Little Man bundled inside in a soft blue blanket, very much not hospital issued this time, Chim noted. Tommy’s expression went soft the second he saw the banner.

“Oh my god,” Buck muttered, blinking rapidly. “Hen, did you—?”

“Of course I did,” Hen said smugly, already sweeping in for a hug. “You didn’t think I’d let your first foster placement come home without at least a themed party, did you?”

Tommy looked down at the carrier and then up at everyone, their whole chaotic, ridiculous fire family gathered on the lawn with streamers and cupcakes, and Chimney could see something in him just... settle. The tension in Tommy’s body that Chim knew hadn’t left ever since Little Man had first shown up at the 217 seemed to evaporate.

The baby stirred in his carrier at the noise, blinking his sleepy eyes as the sunlight hit his face. Buck knelt beside him instantly, fingers brushing his tiny hand. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, a sing-songy quality to his voice, “you’re home.”

Chim immediately jogged over and peeked over Buck’s shoulder. “Okay, let me see this little stinkbug. I missed him, let me tell you!”

“Course you did,” Tommy laughed, stepping aside so Hen and Chim could get a closer look. The baby blinked up at them, nose wrinkling slightly. “He tends to have that effect on people.”

“Awww, look at him,” Chim cooed. Then, his eyes narrowed. “Great, I think he’s already judging me.”

“Smart kid.” Hen smirked, wiggling their eyebrows at him. Chim swatted her shoulder. She only laughed at him before turning back to Buck and Tommy. “So, is the parent panic setting in yet?”

Buck looked up from where he was crouched beside the carrier, then over at Hen with a look that was half amusement, half panic and all exhaustion. “Hen, the panic set in before we even left the receiving center.”

Tommy snorted, shifting a diaper bag higher on his shoulder. “Yeah, somewhere between ‘Sign here’ and ‘Here’s his car seat, don’t kill him,’ I think Evan went through all five stages of grief.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, but it didn’t have much heat behind it. He leaned down again and adjusted the edge of the baby’s blanket, tucking it a little closer under Little Man’s chin. “At least I didn’t try to google how many diapers a newborn needs while driving.”

“You were driving!” Tommy shot back, one of his eyebrows flying up to his hairline. “I was in the passenger seat!”

“Google still judged you.”

“Google always judges me.”

Hen just shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she glanced between them. “You two are going to be the most insufferable parents on the planet, aren’t you?”

Buck stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans. “That depends. Have we reached the part where we start referring to ourselves as ‘Dada’ and ‘Papa’ yet?”

Tommy raised a brow. “And which one of us is which?”

“Oh, I know you think you’re Dada,” Buck replied, already grinning, “but we’re gonna have to arm wrestle over that.”

“God help this child,” Chim muttered under his breath, though he was smiling too, peeking down into the carrier again. “You’ve got no idea what you’re in for, kiddo. Those two are craaaazy.”

Behind them, Karen had wrangled the kids out from inside, Kevin in her arms looking around the group with confused, but curious eyes. Jee-Yun and Mara came running down the lawn like tiny hurricanes, Jee colliding straight with Buck’s legs, clinging to him as she craned her head to look into the carrier.

“That’s my baby cousin?” she whispered, as if speaking too loud would somehow break him.

Buck nodded, slightly bending down to ruffle her hair. “Yeah, that’s him. Pretty small, huh?”

“He is,” Mara said, Jee looking on in awe. “Can we hold him?”

“Later. When he’s more used to so many people being around,” Tommy said, leaning down next to Buck, running a thumb over the baby’s cheek before gently taking him out of the carrier as everyone gathered around. He shot Buck a look, the other man giving a small nod in return, and then addressed the crowd. “Okay, so. You’ve probably already guessed that ‘Little Man’ isn’t gonna be his legal name.”

Tommy glanced around at the sea of expectant faces. Hen and Chim were elbowing each other to get a better look, Bobby, his arm around Athena, stood off to the side with that proud dad energy radiating off him, Eddie with Christopher tucked just beside him, Maddie cradling Kevin while Karen beamed from behind her. Even Ravi, who looked like he might start crying any second.

And right next to him, Buck stood close enough that their arms touched, eyes locked on the little baby in Tommy’s arms like the rest of the world had gone soft-focus.

“So…” Tommy said, bouncing the baby gently in his arms. “We would like you to formally meet Louis Oliver Buckley-Kinard.”

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

Later that night, when the backyard was quiet again and the last of the cupcakes had been packed into Tupperware, Tommy and Buck stood together in the nursery. The crib was finally assembled, (Bobby had insisted on doing it. ‘Just Grandpa things’ he’d called it, and if Buck had fought back tears at that, then that was fine!) the rocker in the corner sat waiting, and a small collection of toys handed down by their friends lined the low shelf against the wall.

Louis, freshly fed and changed, was asleep in Buck’s arms, impossibly small and soft and warm.

“You sure he’s not gonna hate the moon mobile?” Buck whispered, glancing up at the slow-turning decor.

“He’s a baby. He’s mostly just gonna stare at it and poop.”

“Fair enough.”

Tommy watched them for a long moment, then crossed the room to wrap an arm around Buck’s waist. “You’re doing good, Evan.”

“So are you,” Buck said, and didn’t hesitate before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Tommy’s temple.

They laid him down together. Little Man⸺Louis⸺didn’t—— fuss, didn’t stir, just sighed in his sleep and turned his head slightly to the side, already trusting that the world around him was safe, that his dads were there to protect him.

They stood there for a long time, watching him breathe.

“Welcome home, Louis,” Tommy whispered.

This is the reason I barely posted anything for the earlier prompts, I was focused on getting this done so I have loads of unedited drafts lmao, I might post some of them now that I'm done with this. This event has been so fun!!!

“118, call out.”

“This is Diaz,” Tommy heard Eddie say into his radio, ushering the two girls they had found in one of the bathrooms along toward the exit. The heat of the flames along the walls was starting to get to him, so he really hoped this was it. How an elementary school of all things had caught fire like this was completely beyond him, but he made a mental note to keep an eye out for the news tonight anyway. “I’m with Kinard from the 217, we have two more kids, en route to the exit.”

A steady stream of voices from the other members of the 118 rang through the air, but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to really pay attention. The flames crackled hungrily along the walls, the oppressive heat licking at his gear as he pushed forward, scanning the smoke-choked hallway for any remaining signs of movement. His lungs had started to burn an hour ago, but he forced himself to focus. They had to be sure—had to get every last kid out before this place became completely unsalvageable.

He could barely make out the vague shape that was Eddie moving ahead with the kids, their small figures barely visible through the shifting haze. His radio came to live again, static creaking out of it before Bobby’s voice cut in once more.

“Buckley, report. You there? Buck!”

Tommy’s heart stuttered at the urgency in Bobby’s tone. He turned sharply, scanning the hallway, but there was no sign of Evan anywhere.

“Buck, do you copy?” Bobby’s voice came again, this time sharper, more insistent.

Tommy felt his stomach knot. He hadn’t seen Evan since they split up to search different wings of the school. That had been—what? Five, ten minutes ago?

Too long.

His hand flew to his radio. “This is Kinard. I don’t have eyes on him.”

Eddie’s voice cut in immediately. “He was checking the classrooms on the east side. He was headed toward the main hallway when he split from us.”

A curse slipped out under Tommy’s breath. That area had been a mess when they first arrived—unstable ceiling, debris falling, flames licking at everything in sight. If Buck was still over there, it wasn’t good.

“I’m going back,” he said, already turning.

Eddie hesitated. “Tommy—”

“Get those kids out. I’ll find him.”

“Fine. I’ll come find you the moment they’re outside.”

Tommy gave him a court nod before turning on his heel and taking off, back down the hallway. He pushed forward, retracing his steps toward the east wing, where Buck had gone off on his own, but the further he went, the worse the conditions became. Smoke billowed thick and black, making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. His pulse pounded in his ears as he maneuvered around chunks of fallen ceiling and overturned desks, far faster than a regular human would be able to.

“Evan!” he shouted, his voice hoarse from the heat and smoke. He strained to hear any kind of noise, a cough, a call, anything. Cursing under his breath, he stopped and closed his eyes. The smell of fire, ash and burning plastic was much too potent, so trying to pick up Evan’s scent wasn’t going to work, which meant he had only one other choice. He had to focus, to turn his other senses off and let his ears do their job.

The distant groan of collapsing beams, the pop and crackle of the flames, the sound of his own pulse thundering in his ears—those were all background noise. Tommy tuned them out as best as he could. Beneath it all, there had to be something. A sign of life.

Then, just barely through the din, he heard it.

A long, continuous beeping sound.

A PASS alarm.

Tommy’s heart lurched into his throat. A PASS alarm meant one thing—Evan was down.

He surged forward, pushing through the thick, smoke-choked hallway. His feet barely registered the uneven debris underfoot, his gear feeling heavier with each second that ticked by. The sound of the PASS grew louder, more intense, as he drew closer, the tone ringing through the remains of the corridors. He sucked in a breath, fighting against the burn in his lungs, and called out again.

“Evan! Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

His jaw tightened, and he pushed harder, rounding a corner into what had once been a classroom. The ceiling had partially collapsed, leaving huge pieces of debris scattered around the floor, flames still engulfing the edges. Desks were overturned, papers charred beyond recognition, and in the middle of it all—

Evan.

Tommy spotted him half-buried under fallen wood and drywall, his turnout gear coated in soot, his helmet askew. The alarm on his SCBA pack wailed steadily, it’s sound almost mocking Tommy where he stood. He didn’t think at this point. He just moved.

He scrambled toward Evan, kneeling beside him and quickly assessing the situation. His face was partially obscured by his mask, but Tommy could see the rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing, but unconscious.

“Hold on for me, baby,” Tommy muttered, already thinking up a plan. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? Just hold on.” He started tossing aside the debris, ignoring the heat seapiong through his gloves, before he got to a beam pinning Evan’s legs.

Fuck.

The thing was going to be heavy, far too heavy for a normal person to lift. But thankfully, Tommy was anything but normal. Gathering all the strength he had in him, he gritted his teeth and braced himself.

He pushed, muscles straining, heat pressing against his back, but even he wasn’t able to move the beam more than a few inches. The fire crackled angrily around him, embers floating in the air like deadly fireflies. His radio crackled to life.

“Kinard, what’s your status?”

Bobby’s voice. It sounded strained, just as worried as Tommy felt, but with the kind of controlled edge that came with being a captain, he supposed.

He grunted, cursing under his breath as he put the beam down again, as gently as he could. “I’ve got Buckley,” he yelled into his radio. “He’s down, trapped under debris. I need backup.”

“I’m on my way,” Eddie’s voice cut in. “Hang tight.”

But Tommy didn’t have time to wait. The fire was getting worse. He could feel the temperature rising, see the flames were creep closer. If he didn’t move Evan right the fuck now, they weren’t getting out of here alive.

With a final, desperate huff of determination, Tommy prepared to try and move the beam again. His body protested, muscles screaming, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t—stop. Gritting his teeth, he planted his boots firmly against the scorched floor. He reached down, gloved fingers gripping the underside of the beam, and summoned every ounce of strength he had left. His gasped, ignoring the burning in his lungs, the thick, black plumes smoke curling around them almost getting to him. The fire was closing in, heat pressing against his back like a moving wall. He didn’t have much time. He had to move now.

With a deep, primal roar, Tommy heaved.

The beam groaned in protest, shifting only slightly at first. His muscles screamed from the effort, begging him to stop and let them rest, but he refused to give in. Inch by inch, he lifted, straining against the weight of the debris pinning Evan down.

And then, just as Tommy’s grip started to slip, there was a second pair of hands.

Eddie.

His fingers latched onto the beam beside Tommy’s, the added muscle isntantly paying off. Together, they pushed, the wood groaning as it shifted further. Tommy’s breath hitched as, finally, the weight gave way enough to drag Evan free.

“Got him!” Eddie gritted out, gripping Evan’s turnout coat and pulling him back as Tommy tossed the beam aside with a final burst of strength. The moment Evan was clear, Tommy dropped to his knees beside him, pulling off one of his gloves to press two fingers to the pulse point on his neck.

Still there. But only barely. Shit.

Not wasting another second, Tommy quickly pulled off Evan’s mask to get a better look at him. His face was covered in soot, his lips slightly parted, but the slow, if irregular and shallow, rise and fall of his chest told Tommy he was still breathing.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know, I can’t really make an assessment right now!” Eddie shot back, kneeling down to scan Evan’s still body. “Possible spinal injury and inner bleedings. Maybe a collapsed lung?”

Tommy swore under his breath, his mind reeling as he put Evan’s mask back on. Eddie was right, they didn’t have time to sit here and debate what kind of injuries Evan might have. Every second they wasted, the fire went more and more out of control, the smoke building it’s walls thicker and thicker. They needed to move.

“Okay,” he said, making a snap decision. “Let’s get him out, see what Hen and Chimney can do.”

Eddie nodded, already grabbing Evan’s feet, shifting to get a better grip. Tommy did the same, looping his arms under his.

“On three,” Tommy ordered. “One—two—three!”

They lifted him together, Evan’s body limp between them. It was awkward, made worse by the unstable footing beneath them, but they didn’t stop. Tommy’s lungs burned, his muscles ached from the previous strain, but the adrenaline pushed him forward.

The hallway was worse than before—flames licked hungrily at the walls, heat radiating off them in waves that felt almost unbearable even through their gear. The smoke took more and more of their vision, and Tommy felt his stomach twist as Evan let out a weak, rasping breath.

He wasn’t getting enough air, even through his mask.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Tommy cursed, his voice rising above the crackling of the blaze around them. “Eddie, we have to do something now!”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, his gaze flicking between Evan and the inferno surrounding them. “We don’t have time to stop!” he snapped. “We need to move.”

He was right, of course, but that didn’t help right now. Every instinct in Tommy’s body screamed that Evan wouldn’t make it if they didn’t act fast. His breathing was too shallow, too ragged. The smoke was suffocating them all, but Evan, already unconscious, was the most vulnerable.

“There’s one thing. One thing we can do.”

“What are you—” Eddie began, but he cut himself off, his eyes widening. Even through his mask, Tommy could see that his jaw was tightening. “No.”

“He’ll die if we don’t!”

“Tommy, we can’t bite him! Turning someone without their consent?! That’s not right!”

Eddie’s voice was hard and judgemental, but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew it wasn’t ethical, and under any other circumstance, he’d find the suggestion as abhorrent as Eddie. He knew what it meant. But he also knew, with absolute certainty, that if they didn’t do something now, Evan wasn’t going to make it.

“This isn’t some random person, Eddie! This is Evan!” Tommy growled, adjusting his grip on Evan’s limp body. His breaths were coming in shallow, wheezing gasps now, and the color was draining from his face far too fast. “If we wait until we get outside, he might already be gone.”

Eddie hesitated, torn. Tommy could see the battle raging behind his eyes. The firefighter in him was screaming to follow protocol, to get Evan outside to the medics and let them handle it. But the other part of him, the human part that went into this job to help and save people’s lives knew that this might be the only way to do just that. Evan wouldn’t survive long enough if they didn’t bite him now, and Eddie was acutely aware of that.

In a last ditch effort, Tommy met his gaze, his voice cracking. “Eddie, I love him. I can’t lose him! You of all people should understand that!”

Eddie swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing. The fire raged around them, thick smoke threatening to completely overwhelm them, and Evan… Evan was slipping away. His breath was barely there, his pulse weak under Tommy’s desperate grip. There wasn’t time.

This was a line they weren’t supposed to cross.

But it was Evan.

“Do it,” Eddie said, his voice barely above a whisper as he bent down to put Evan back on the ground. “But I hope you’re prepared for the consequences.”

Tommy didn’t hesitate. The moment Evan was down, he got on his knees and pulled up the sleeve of his turnouts, pulling the arm up to his mouth. The scent of smoke clung to him, but underneath it—blood, life, the faint, fragile thread of existence that was slipping away too fast.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Tommy bit down.

🐺🐺🐺

The first thing Buck registered when he came to was a severely antiseptic stench he knew all too well.

The hospital. Again.

His eyelids felt heavy, like they’d been weighed down with lead. He struggled to force them open, wincing at the harsh, fluorescent light overhead that stabbed painfully into his vision. His head throbbed, a dull ache radiating from the base of his skull, sending waves of nausea rolling through him. For a moment, he lay still, breathing carefully and trying to piece together what had happened.

There was fire—that much he remembered clearly. The school, flames swallowing the walls whole, the oppressive heat, thick smoke choking his lungs, and then—nothing.

Carefully, he flexed his fingers, feeling the pinch of an IV taped firmly into place on the back of his hand. His muscles felt oddly heavy, sluggish, almost as if he’d been drugged. Slowly, the memories came back to him. Elementary school fire, desks overturned, the creaking ceiling, Tommy shouting somewhere close. Buck vaguely recalled feeling trapped, pinned beneath something impossibly heavy, the panic rising in his chest, struggling to breathe, and then—

A sudden spike of memory made his pulse quicken. Tommy. Eddie. Had they gotten out okay? The kids?

He blinked rapidly, trying to force the fog out of his brain as he tried to push upright in the bed. The sudden movement sent a flare of pain shooting through his torso, wrenching a gasp from his lips. He sank back against the pillows, biting back a groan.

“Hey, hey—slow down, hero.”

Buck’s head snapped toward the familiar voice, relief flooding him instantly. Tommy stood in the doorway, exhaustion and worry clearly etched across his face. The plastic coffee cup in his hand, clearly the cheap hospital stuff that was mostly just bean water, was shaking in his trembling hand, but otherwise, he seemed unharmed.

Thank God.

Tears shot into his eyes and he let out an uneasy breath. “You’re okay,” he whispered and let his head drop back onto the way-too-soft-yet-not-soft-enough-somehow pillow. Tommy was alive. Tommy was fine. Tommy seemingly wasn’t even injured.

With a gulp, Tommy stepped into the room, approaching cautiously, his eyes searching Buck’s face intently, almost as if he was looking for something specific. He sank down heavily into the chair by the bedside, shoulders slumping visibly in relief.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” His voice was hoarse, strained, as if he’d been yelling—or possibly crying. “You scared the absolute hell out of us.”

Buck’s eyes shifted around the room. “Eddie?”

“Fine. Got the kids out safe, came back for you. He’s trying to get Chris to go to school, don’t know if he’ll succeed with that.”

“Good,” Buck nodded, a weak smile appearing on his face. Everyone had made it out. Even though he’d fucked up again and had gotten Tommy and Eddie in serious danger, they were healthy and alive. “That’s… that’s good.”

But Tommy didn’t answer, didn’t smile. An uncomfortable silence settled between them, the atmosphere in the room tensing significantly. Buck studied Tommy’s tense expression carefully, trying to make out what was eating at him. This wasn’t the first time they were in this situation, and while Buck knew seeing your loved ones in a hospital bed never got easier, Tommy’s stare was far too intense to be mere worry.

“So, what, uh, what happened back there?” Buck hesitated, his chest constricting as if he had put on a too-tight corset at the way his boyfriend looked at him, almost with a hint of… pity in his eyes. “I remember the fire, then... it’s a blur.”

Tommy swallowed audibly, clenching his fists as he shifted in the chair, visibly uncomfortable. It made Buck frown. Tommy was reserved and fairly stoic most of the time, that was true, but that wasn’t what this was. This…this almost looked like he felt guilty, for some reason.

“You got trapped under debris,” Tommy began quietly, voice trembling slightly, betraying his obvious attempts to hold back his emotions. “I couldn’t move it alone, and by the time Eddie got to us, you were—you weren’t breathing right. We weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

Buck felt a chill run down his spine at Tommy’s ashen face. That couldn’t be right. His body was in way too well a state for that to be right. If what Tommy said was true, he shouldn’t be able to sit, let alone speak right now. “But I’m here,” he murmured slowly, trying to reassure both himself and Tommy, despite the dread that was making its way up his throat like bile. “Whatever you did, it worked.”

Tommy’s eyes flicked up sharply at that, the guilt inside them intensifying for a fraction of a second before he masked it behind a strained smile. “It did,” he said softly. “But... there’s something you need to know.”

The sound of his own blood rushing through his body intensified in Buck’s ears, his stomach feeling like it was filling up with lead. He’d seen Tommy anxious before—after bad calls, during difficult rescues, the night they broke up, and the day they reconciled—but never like this. Never so openly afraid.

“What is it?” he whispered, mouth suddenly dry. Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed a tired hand over his face. He sighed heavily, biting his lip for a few seconds before he began talking with a heavy sigh.

“You weren’t going to survive,” he said softly. “Not with all those injuries. The fire, the smoke—it was too much, all of it.” He bit his lip, finally looking up and into Buck’s eyes again, tears making his own shimmer. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t—I couldn’t lose you. I made a choice, Evan, and it wasn’t one I had a right to make for you.”

Buck’s heart slammed against his ribcage by now, his lungs barely taking in enough oxygen anymore. He stared blankly at Tommy, his brain wrecking itself to try and make sense of what his boyfriend was getting at here. “What are you saying? What ‘choice’ could you possibly have been making for me?”

“There’s something you don’t know about me. Or about Eddie, for that matter.”

He paused with a stuttering sigh, the sudden silence seemingly stiffening the air in the room to the point Buck thought he might choke on it. The words Tommy had said (or rather, the words he hadn’t said yet) reverberated through the room like an echo, reflecting off the walls and hitting Buck over and over and over again, in a way that made his head spin.

“What are you talking about?” Buck managed, his voice little more than a whisper, his mind racing through every scenario it could come up with.

Tommy took a deep breath, almost as if he actually had to prepare himself for what he was about to say. His eyes flew toward the door for a split second, then locked back onto Buck’s.

“I’m not human, Evan. Eddie isn’t either,” he said carefully. He paused for a moment, as if to gauge Buck’s reaction, before he continued. “We’re…this is going to sound completely deranged, but we’re... we’re werewolves.”

Buck blinked, his mind screeching to a halt for a second. His inital reaction was to laugh, because what the hell even was Tommy saying? But all the humor died in his throat at his boyfriend’s more than serious expression. There was something in his boyfriend’s eyes, unshed tears making them shine in the fluorecent light, making it abundantly clear that nothing Tommy was saying was in jest.

“You’re serious?” Buck breathed incredulously, his voice barely audible over the beeping of the hospital machinery.

With a heavy gulp, Tommy nodded. He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Buck’s face. Buck recognized that look. Fear. Terror. Tommy was absolutely terrified about this conversation. “Dead serious. You were dying, Evan. Your pulse was fading, your breathing nearly nonexistent. We had no other choice—no other way to save you.”

Buck swallowed. His brain felt like it was stuck on a carousel, going around in ever accelerating circles, trying desperately to grasp onto logic even as every rational explanation seemingly went out the window. “So…what, you bit me? And now I’m a…a werewolf, too?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Tommy began rolling the coffee cup between his hands. “Yeah, pretty much. The, uh…the healing factor usually sets in right away—obviously, that’s why…why I turned you. The rest comes in slowly and usually sticks after your first shift. During, y’know, the full moon.”

Buck’s head spun, panic creeping at the edges of his consciousness. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some twisted, elaborate joke or some weird dream his pain meds caused. Werewolves belonged in movies, in books, on TV, not sitting right in front of him, telling him he was one too now.

“This isn’t real,” he muttered, a shaky breath slipping past his lips. “It can’t be. There’s… there’s no way.”

“It is,” Tommy said softly, putting the coffee cup on the floor to reach out and grab Buck’s hand, holding it tightly between his own. The touch was warm and grounding, so weirdly normal in such an abnormal situation that it sent a shiver racing down Buck’s spine. “I’m so sorry, Evan. Seriously. If there had been some other way, anything else I could’ve done, I swear I wouldn’t have turned you. But you were dying, and I…I couldn’t not save you. I couldn’t lose you, Evan.”

Buck stared at Tommy. This whole conversation was nothing short of pure insanity. His mind was spinning uncontrollably, desperately trying to make sense of this new reality Tommy had just thrown him into, but no matter how much it wanted to, it couldn’t. His heart pounded violently against his ribcage, his breathing going ragged as he almost started to hyperventilate.

He shut his eyes tight, so tight he was seeing stars, desperately trying to will himself to wake up from whatever fever dream this had to be. Because it had to be a dream, right?

But when he opened them again, Tommy was still there, still watching him with a mixture of trepidation and raw vulnerability. The coffee cup he had placed on the floor was still there, the IV in Buck’s arm still tugged at his skin, and the beeping of the monitors still filled the ever expanding silence.

No. This wasn’t a dream.

This was real.

A shiver crawled down Buck’s spine, the hospital air suddenly feeling too cold despite the warmth of Tommy’s hands still wrapped around his own.

Werewolves.

Tommy and Eddie were werewolves.

And now, apparently, so was he.

“This is insane,” Buck murmured, pulling his hand free from Tommy’s grip and raking it through his hair. His fingers shook slightly as they passed through the short strands, no matter how much he tried to stop them from trembling. “This—this can’t be real.”

Tommy exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands together as if grounding himself. “I know it’s a lot. More than a lot. But, Evan, you have to believe me. We wouldn’t lie to you about this. You were dying; I—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Buck felt like he’d been dumped into water, sinking down deeper and deeper, without ever getting to the bottom. His body, still weak from whatever the hell he had endured at that fire (and because of Tommy’s bite?), trembled slightly as a wave of nausea rolled through him.

“But this—” He gestured wildly at himself, at the sterile hospital room, at everything. “You’re telling me I’m—what? Gonna start howling at the moon? Grow claws and…and teeth? Turning into a bloodthirsty monster once a month?”

Tommy flinched, but quickly recovered and recaptured Buck’s hand in his. “No,” he said quickly, running his thumb over it’s back. “It’s not like that. Not at all. You will change on the full moon, but it’s not… There’s ways to control it. And the rest of the time? You’re still you, just… stronger. Faster. Better healing. Heightened senses.”

Buck shook his head in disbelief. “I—this can’t be real,” he whispered again, but his voice cracked, betraying the sliver of doubt creeping into his panic. His rational mind warred with everything Tommy was telling him, but something deep inside him—some primal, unshakable instinct—told him that Tommy wasn’t lying.

“What if I don’t want this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tommy flinched, recoiled like Buck had punched him square in the jaw. “I know,” he murmured. “I know, Evan. And if there had been another way, I swear, I would have taken it. But if I hadn’t done anything, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Buck inhaled sharply. His throat felt tight, more than one emotion stirring in his chest.

Fear.

Confusion.

Anger.

But beneath it all, the most terrifying thing he felt...was gratitude.

Because Tommy was right.

If he hadn’t done this, Buck would be dead.

And he wasn’t sure he could be angry about being alive.

A long, heavy silence stretched between them. Buck’s mind spun with all the implications of what this meant—what it would mean for the rest of his life. Would he still be able to do his job? Would he lose control? Would he still be him?

“I know this is a lot,” Tommy said softly. “And I don’t expect you to be okay with it right away. Hell, I don’t expect you to be okay with it for a long time. But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here. Eddie’s here. We’ll help you. We’ll teach you.”

Buck swallowed thickly, staring down at their intertwined hands.

Tommy had saved his life. That much, at least, was undeniable.

And no matter how much fear clawed at his chest, how much uncertainty threatened to consume him, one fact remained:

He was alive.

Even if he wasn’t sure what he was anymore.

With a shaky breath, he finally nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Teach me, then.”

🐺🐺🐺

Buck turned off his jeep’s engine, taking a deep breath as he gripped the steering wheel hard. He’d been released from the hospital three weeks ago, and Tommy had spent them preparing Buck mentally for what was going to happen tonight.

The full moon.

Even though Buck had said he was ready, his hands trembled slightly as he sat in his jeep, the outskirts of the woods stretching into the darkness.

Tommy hadn’t said much about why he wanted to meet here specifically, just that this was his usual territory when he turned. Fair enough, Buck had figured. He could see Tommy’s silhouette standing right by the trees too, impatiently walking up and down.

Buck sighed. Tommy was clearly already waiting for him.

He exhaled slowly, steeling himself before finally opening the door and stepping out. The air was crisp, cooler than usual for an L.A. night, and carried the faint scent of damp earth and pine. It was sharper, more distinct than before—just another reminder that things were different now.

Tommy turned at the sound of his footsteps, his expression softening in the dim moonlight. The glow of the nearly full moon overhead cast long shadows through the trees and doused the grass in a soft, silver shine. Buck shoved his hands into his pockets, wondering if it was this new side of him, the wolf side, that made him feel comfortable here.

“You’re here,” Tommy murmured, his voice softer than Buck had expected. He stepped closer, pulling Buck in by the hips to greet him with a kiss Buck happily reciprocated. Ever since this whole…mess…had happened, Tommy had been overly cautious with his affection. They hadn’t had sex at all within those three weeks, and Buck seriously hoped that would change after whatever was going to happen tonight. “Here, take this.”

With that, Tommy pulled a necklace with a small, pale white stone embedded in a medallion out of his pocket. The stone seemed to almost glow in the light of the rising moon, and it’s mere presence calmed something inside Buck that had been clawing at the inside of his chest since the sun had set. He took the necklace from Tommy’s outstretched hand, rolling the medallion between his fingers. The stone was cool against his skin, and it somehow made him feel… grounded. Like whatever had restricted his lungs the whole day was gone and he could finally breath again.

“What is this?” he asked quietly, looking back up into Tommy’s eyes.

His boyfriend’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “It’s a moonstone,” he explained. “It won’t stop the shift, but it lets you keep your human mind once you turn.”

Buck exhaled slowly, turning the pendant over in his hands. The weight of it felt solid, reassuring in a way he hadn’t expected. He knew Tommy wouldn’t let anything happen to him, but knowing that this tiny stone could be the key to keeping his mind intact through whatever was coming next? That was an entirely different kind of relief.

“And you trust that this thing works?” he asked, lifting it up slightly.

Tommy nodded. “Yes. They’ve never let me down the last, like, twenty years. It’s not completely foolproof, but the chances that it fails are near zero.”

Buck swallowed hard. Near zero. But not completely zero.

“What if it doesn’t work? What if I–”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Tommy cut him off, pulling Buck closer to rest his forehead against his. “I’ll protect you. You won’t get hurt, and you won’t hurt anyone else. I promise you, okay?”

A shaky breath escaped Buck. He let out a sniff and nodded, throwing his arms around Tommy’s shoulders and melting into his embrace. “Okay. I trust you. I...I mean, I am scared, but I trust you.”

“I know, baby. I know you’re scared.” His arms tightened around Buck’s back, his warmth alone easing most of Buck’s worries away. “And I know that none of this is fair to you. But I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Buck met Tommy’s gaze, his throat tightening. Tommy was here. Tommy was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to make sure Buck was safe.

“Okay,” Buck whispered into Tommy’s shoulder, leaving a soft kiss there. “Let’s do this.”

Tommy nodded, squeezing Buck’s waist one more time before he let go. “Okay. Take off your clothes.”

Buck blinked, his face growing hot at Tommy’s (unnecessarily blunt) command. Every ounce of tension that had just extisted evaporated into thin air. “Excuse me?”

Tommy smirked, the serious look in his eyes replaced by a teasing glint that shone in the moonlight. “Evan, we’re about to transform into wolves the size of horses, unless you want to drive home naked in the morning, you’re gonna have to strip.”

Buck groaned, rolling his eyes even as his cheeks burned hotter. “You could’ve led with that instead of just telling me to get naked, asshole!”

Tommy chuckled, stepping back as he pulled his own shirt over his head. “That would be way less fun, though.”

Buck huffed but followed suit, throwing off his jacket and peeling off his t-shirt. The cool night air against his skin made him shiver for a moment, though he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was the temperature or the anxiety boiling in his gut. He cast a glance at Tommy, who was now kicking off his boots and working on his belt.

He swallowed. He’d seen Tommy naked countless times but this was different. This wasn’t a heated lead up to sex, or an intimate moment behind closed doors. (Or not so closed doors. Sorry, Maddie.) This was something new, something outright primal, and the realization sent a fresh wave of nerves through him.

“Don’t overthink this,” Tommy said, reaching out to squeeze Buck’s wrist. “I’m not gonna lie, the first time sucks. But you’ll get through it, and next month it’s gonna be much, much easier.”

Buck nodded slowly, drawing in a deep breath. The moon, it’s silver light shining down on him, felt like it was calling out to him. His heart began beating up into his throat, his skin starting to tingle. He couldn’t exactly tell what it was that stirred inside him, he just knew (perheps out of instinct) that he’d shift soon.

Tommy, who, as Buck now noticed, wore a moonstone of his own, took a step closer, his expression softening. “It’s gonna feel weird at first,” he warned. “Like your whole body is fighting against itself. Just breathe through it. Don’t fight it. Let it happen.”

“Okay. And then?”

“Then it starts hurting.” Tommy grabbed Buck’s hands with that, squeezing them tight. “But I’ll be here. You’re not alone. Not ever.”

Buck held Tommy’s gaze, searching his eyes for any trace of uncertainty, but there was none. All he saw was patience. Understanding. Love.

“Okay,” Buck nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready. It...it can start whenever.”

Tommy pulled him in for one last kiss before taking a few steps back, and then—

Buck gasped, his lungs suddenly feeling like they contorted in on themselves, squeezing every bit of oxygen that was in them.

A sudden rush of heat surged through his veins, starting at his spine and radiating outward. His muscles clenched, then stretched, then clenched again, his bones cracking so sharply he gasped. His knees buckled, the ground darting upward to meet him as he barely caught himself on all fours. His breath came in sharp pants, his vision blurring as his skull ached, his skin rippling as if something was alive under it that wanted to break out.

He tried to cry out, but the sound that came out was not human.

Somewhere to his left, he heard Tommy grunt, heard the sickening cracks and pops of shifting bone, the quiet growl of effort.

His fingers curled into the dirt, but they weren’t fingers anymore.

Claws.

Fur!

He’d be fascinated by it all if he didn’t feel like he was about to pass out. Every nerve in his body screamed as his body changed shape, his bones breaking and regrowing themselves. His skin stretched and streched and kept stretching, growing thinner and thinner while hair began sprouting from every pore.

His senses exploded all at once, the sounds of leaves and animals and the wind from in front of him and cars and horns and city from behind crashed against each other inside his brain and pooled together with the smell of oil and grease and skin, and the sensation of feeling every single grain of dirt under his palms, creating a volatile cocktail that almost made his head blow up to smithereens.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started—

It stopped.

Silence.

Buck blinked, his breath heavy, his heart pounding. He wasn’t standing anymore—no, he was crouched on four legs, the world around him sharper than it had ever been before.

He turned his head, ears flicking instinctively, and saw Tommy.

Or, rather, the massive, dark-furred wolf. That was still unmistakably Tommy.

His wolf form was huge, easily the size of a horse, just like he’d said, his thick coat a deep, smoky gray with the same piercing blue eyes that Buck had fallen in love with.

Buck’s legs—his paws—trembled as he took an experimental step. His balance was all wrong, his body foreign, but deep inside, something clicked. Something primal.

Tommy chuffed—a quiet, wolfish laugh—before padding closer. Buck tilted his head slightly, feeling his ears twitch almost on his own. The moment he was close enough, Tommy tucked his nose behind Buck’s ear, giving a few sniffs before darting his tongue out for a quick lick. Buck huffed, shaking his head as the strange sensation of Tommy’s nose pressed against him sent a shiver through his still unfamiliar, new body. He tried to pull back, but his legs—no, paws—fumbled beneath him, and he staggered. Tommy pulled back slightly, watching with an amused glint in his eyes, his tail flicking slightly behind him.

Buck growled, instinctively, almost like muscle memory, but the sound that came out was rougher, deeper, not his own voice at all. The vibration of it rumbled through his chest, unfamiliar and strange. He lowered his head, glancing down at his legs, his paws, at the thick golden-brown fur that now covered him from hea to toe.

Holy shit.

This was real. He was a wolf.

Panic curled in his gut, sharp and sudden, and he backed up a step, his claws digging into the dirt. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, the sound sharper than anything he’d ever heard before, overwhelming in its intensity. Everything was too loud, too bright, too much. His breathing picked up, fast and uneven, his body trembling under the weight of this impossible reality.

Tommy stepped forward again, lowering his head slightly, a low, soothing rumble emanating from his chest. A sound that Buck’s instincts somehow translated as calm. It was weird, almost like his body understood Tommy in a way his brain hadn’t caught up with yet.

Breathe, Tommy’s body language seemed to say. It’s okay. You’re okay.

Buck took a slow, shaky inhale, his ribs expanding against his new frame. The scents hit him all at once, earth, trees, damp soil, something small and alive (a squirrel, maybe?) scurrying somewhere nearby. It was overwhelming, dizzying. But beneath it all, grounding him, was Tommy’s scent.

Strong.

Familiar.

Safe.

Buck blinked, trying to steady himself. He attempted another step, this time keeping his movements careful, deliberate. He still struggled to keep his balance, but he didn’t stumble anymore. His tail twitched—fucking hell, he had a tail now—and he let out a slow exhale through his nose...snout...whatever.

Tommy chuffed again, a soft, pleased sound, before turning and padding forward into the woods. He paused only to glance back at Buck, his expression clear.

Follow me.

Buck hesitated for half a second before instinct took over. His paws moved on their own, carrying him forward, following Tommy into the thicket.

At first, his new limbs felt awkward, and he tumbled every few steps. His body still felt too big, too unfamiliar, his legs and feet and joints moving in ways he still thought they shouldn't be moving. But the deeper they went, the more used to it all Buck grew. The scents became less overwhelming and began fading into the background, the sounds separated and became clearer. His footing steadied, his steps smoothing out into something almost… effortless.

Then, suddenly, Tommy took off.

A blur of dark gray fur, a rush of wind, the powerful push of his hind legs launching him forward.

Buck’s instincts roared to life.

Without thinking, he ran.

The wind rushed past his face, his paws barely touching the ground before springing forward again. The sheer freedom of it sent a thrill racing through his veins, a spark of exhilaration unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The trees blurred past him, the world nothing but motion and speed and the steady rhythm of Tommy just ahead.

For the first time since this nightmare began, Buck wasn’t afraid.

He was alive.

He caught up to Tommy easily, too easily, almost, and his competitive streak flared to life inside him. He let out a sharp, playful growl before pushing himself harder, surging forward.

Tommy barked—an honest-to-God bark—before immediately giving chase.

And so, they ran.

Through the trees, over fallen logs, past the rustling underbrush. Buck felt the power in his limbs, the sheer strength of this new body, and for the first time Tommy had broken the news to him, he thought that maybe this wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

🐺🐺🐺

By the time the sun began creeping toward the horizon, their shift back into humans probably imminent, the two of them had long since collapsed in a clearing, panting, their fur damp with morning dew.

Tommy lay stretched out beside him, his head resting on his paws, watching Buck with an expression that was both soft and satisfied.

Buck huffed a breath, rolling onto his side, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder and staring up at the sky as the first hints of dawn painted it in soft hues of pink and gold. His body still buzzed with lingering energy, his heartbeat steady and strong. He felt… good. Better than he had since the fire.

Tommy exhaled, shifting slightly before nudging Buck with his nose.

See? the gesture seemed to say. You’re okay.

Buck huffed out a small, amused sound before bumping his head lightly against Tommy’s.

Yeah.

A quick glance towards their bathroom confirms that it's empty; when he pokes his head out into the hall, the study to the left is dark, so he makes his way towards Robbie's room. It's also dark—as dark as it gets, anyway; the little nightlight in the corner is on, giving off just enough of a glow to show that there's no Tommy or Robbie to be seen.

He pads further down the hall. The living room is also abandoned, but through it, in the kitchen, the light under the range hood is on, and he can hear the low notes of classical music drifting through the air.

As quietly as possible, he steps forward, peeking around the corner, and his heart feels like it's going to explode out of his chest with love.

The first thing he notices is Robbie's little toes. He's getting bigger, as babies tend to do; he can't lie flat in the crook of an arm anymore, some part of him is always hanging. Right now, he's sitting on Tommy's arm, slumped over with his face smushed into Tommy's shoulder, legs dangling and the soles of his feet just visible around Tommy's side. Tommy is swaying, humming along to the song that's playing from his phone as he rotates slowly in place.

Buck leans against the doorway, smiling softly. They've probably been here for a while; there's an empty bottle on the island, Robbie's fast asleep, Tommy's yawning, but Buck can't bring himself to disturb them right away. This is something he never thought he'd get to have, the way it all feels so right, like this moment is where he's been headed his whole life; he's not going to break it before he has to.

Soon enough, though, Tommy's almost turned around. When he can finally see his face, he chuckles; his eyes are closed, he's nuzzling right into Robbie's curly hair, and he looks just as content as Buck feels. He steps forward, sliding in right where he belongs: with his family in his arms.

Tommy's eyes blink open, and he smiles, his whole face lighting up even when he's clearly exhausted.

"Hey, baby," he whispers.

"Hey," Buck whispers back. "How long have you been up?"

"Not that long." Tommy shakes his head. "Twenty-five minutes, maybe? He's just fussy. A new tooth is coming up, I think he just wanted the comfort."

"Awww, poor guy."

Buck bends down, ghosting his lips over the top of Robbie's head. They adjust a little, almost out of habit, rearranging limbs until they're wrapped up in each other, wrapped around their son, who just smacks his lips in his sleep and happily snuggles closer. They keep turning as the music keeps playing, and Buck is reminded of other times they've danced like this.

Maddie and Chimney's vow renewal reception, on their first wedding anniversary. He and Tommy had just gotten back together a few weeks before, after nearly six months apart, but under the lights and surrounded by their friends, Buck had looked at him and just known that he wanted to do this forever.

Their own first dance, pressed close together in the middle of an empty dance floor as everybody cheered, all the people they cared about slowly filtering into place around them until they were surrounded.

Bobby's retirement party—his real retirement—where they'd gotten the call that their surrogate was in labour. Tommy had swung him around in a circle, nearly bowling over everyone around them before they slowed, swaying together to the music and letting themselves cry happy tears before making their hasty goodbyes, rushing to the hospital to meet Robert Buckley for the first time.

And the countless times they'd danced together right here, in the kitchen of Tommy's house, their house?

These are his favourite.