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for an au prompt - buck is the son of wealthy socialites who has big dreams of exploration and saltommy are the guides he hires for his big trip he plans for himself before he needs to “join polite society”
This is very close to a TTRPG character I made once, so I love this.
1. Buck is an academic who's tired of learning about the world from a lecture hall or a book or pamphlet or etchings. He's pushed off marriage and his proper introduction into society--not that he has to be presented like his sister was, but it's still a nightmare--by going to university. Now he wants to do more than just settle down with a woman he barely knows and make children until he dies. He wants to explore and help people and learn more. He's down by the port watching the boats come in, which he's not supposed to be doing. It's too rough there, too dirty. He sees two men coming off a smaller boat with bags hoisted over their shoulder, and they're big and broad and wearing the cabled sweaters of sailors. As they pass, they glance at him, and Buck flushes and tries not to stare.
2. He's in a bar he's really not supposed to be in, because there's rough types covered in tattoos and earrings who carry knives and don't give a damn about the rules of a polite society. He drinks terrible whiskey and sees the two men from earlier and overhears them talking about Cairo and Rome and goes to their table and sits down. "Hello, I know I shouldn't be eavesdropping," he says to the two men, "but would you be willing to help me with something?" And the men eye him and one of them leans forward on his elbows and grins. "Darling, whatever you want," the man says, and Buck's stomach swoops. In a rush, he explains that he wants to see the world and experience it before he's trapped in a gilded cage. He tells them he can pay them if they'll be his passage out and point him to somewhere better, more interesting, more exciting. They agree to it, even agree to guide him. "What's your name, kid?" one of the men asks. "Oh, uh," he says, flushing. "E-evan." If he gives them his nickname or surname, word might get around before he can leave. His given name is common enough. "I'm Tommy," the man says, smiling. "And this is Sal. Our ship's the Daedalus." And Buck perks up and starts talking mythology with them and what he'd do if he had wings.
3. Buck packs a small trunk and a bag and shoves them through a ground floor window, has dinner with his parents, is disappointed his sister couldn't make it as promised. Her husband keeps her home too much. He leaves a letter for her, another for his parents, and sneaks out in the middle of the night. Sal and Tommy are waiting for him at the docks, and they secure his things and set off to cross the Atlantic. Their crew is small but very interesting. Bobby, Hen, Karen, Chimney, Eddie, and Lucy all escaped their lives, too, but they were different than his. But they welcome him. Bobby's actually more or less the captain of the ship, but it's Sal and Tommy's ship, they bought and fixed it up together. Bobby goes where they're paid to go or where Sal and Tommy find a lead on something interesting. "You, kid, are something interesting," Bobby decides. "Where do you want to go?" And Buck looks at the name of the ship engraved on a plank and says, "Greece."
4. Passage across the ocean is rough and occasionally terrifying. Buck learns how to be a sailor fast. His soft, academic hands get rough with hard work. His muscles ache. He's starting to get muscles. His face isn't smooth and unshaven most days. He learns everything he can about it. He sticks close to Sal and Tommy, because they'll be the ones actually guiding him through his trip. They're starting in Greece to see ruins, maybe even help unearth some, and then it's off to Egypt and then who knew where. The two men are fascinating, having seemingly traveled the world together. There's a closeness there, like they share a mind, and Buck is quietly jealous. The closest he's ever come to that is with his sister, and she's basically gone from his life. There's a night with a storm, a bad one, and Buck is thrown from his bunk. The others are empty, but there's a light around the doorway of the cabin that Sal and Tommy share. He bursts in to make sure they're safe, and they're both getting out of Tommy's bunk. Naked. "S-sorry," Buck stammers, clapping a hand over his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with the other so he doesn't fall. "There's a storm." "I noticed, thank you," Tommy says, sounding amused. They're still pulling their shirts on when they reach the deck to help keep the ship from capsizing. Tommy's the more skilled pilot, so he gets them through it.
5. Buck can't get the image out of his head, the sight of the two of them. He's seen naked men before, he's met confirmed bachelors who definitely engage in buggery. He's never thought poorly of them. He's never looked down on Joshua or classmates or anyone who weren't able to hide it. He's an ally to their cause, he doesn't see any reason why it should be illegal or frowned upon or cured. But he can't stop wondering about them, about what they do. Buck finds himself picturing it to the point of distraction. Now that he knows, they're less shy with it. Karen and Hen, too. Bobby doesn't talk about it, Eddie had a wife, Chimney has no one, and Lucy's evasive about it but talks about a writer woman she knows who's trying to make her name as a journalist. Buck feels the keen stab of loneliness when he sees Sal wrapping an arm around Tommy and kissing his cheek. He doesn't want a stiff, advantageous marriage. He wants love. He's curled up and reading one of Tommy's books about Greece and its pantheon of gods and wonders if he should pray to Aphrodite when they get there. When Tommy pokes his head in to let him know they've spotted land, he sees the look on Buck's face and sits with him, Sal trailing behind. Everything spills out of Buck: not wanting to marry, not wanting to be lonely anymore, wanting something true and real and to see the world and not dying in regret and obscurity. "Maybe I'll find someone out here," he says, wiping shameful tears away. "Maybe," Tommy agrees quietly, squeezing his hand.
6. They get to Greece, the crew splits off to go do something else (maybe they're smugglers or freelance merchants or do transport or idk) and Buck gives Chimney a letter for his sister (and the hand delivering of this will kick off Chimney and Maddie's love story). He and Sal and Tommy start off on their exploration, and it's everything Buck wanted. He sees ruins and meets people who don't care about the upper echelons of Philadelphia society. He tries foods he's never heard of, drinks in bars with people he can only communicate with through gestures and laughter, and he has Sal and Tommy as a constant. It's late one night on an island in the Mediterranean Sea he can't remember the name of, and he's had a drink or three, he's been kissed by two beautiful women who wandered off expecting him to follow but he yanks Sal and Tommy in the other direction instead. They're on a beach, and he looks out and pretends he can see the shore of Egypt. "Think he'll like riding camels?" Tommy asks. "I think he'll end up with a flock of 'em following around with stars in their eyes," Sal teases. "Our boy's a charmer." And Buck flushes in the sea breeze and looks at them and knows what Sal means, but he wonders if he can maybe just pretend for once that he belongs to someone. He doesn't know what his face is doing, but Tommy steps close and kisses him. It's not playful and a little messy like the kisses from the women; it's soft and gentle and sweet. And when he pulls away, Sal takes his place with a question in his eyes, and Buck pulls him into a kiss.
7. They go to Egypt, to Istanbul, to Asia Minor, up through the edges of Russia, up to Sweden and Iceland and across to the wilds of Canada. When they stop in Philadelphia, it's been nearly two years away from home for Buck. He looks different. He's got the working muscles of a man who's used to being at sea and climbing through forests and mountains. He has tattoos, carefully hidden under his shirts and seen only by his lovers and the people who put them there. His hair is a riot of curls that get cut less frequently than they should, and stubble stays on his cheeks for days, sometimes growing into a full beard. He's been sending letters home to his sister, receiving none in return, but he's rarely anywhere long enough for that. He's surprised to ring the bell at his family's home and to be greeted tearfully by his parents. They'd known he was alive, just not that he was always safe. His sister lives nearby for now, and he asks after her. "She'll be alright," his father says, and the way he says it sends ice through Buck's veins. He finds out about her murderous husband, how Chimney protected her and got her back from him, how she's now waiting for her missing husband to be declared dead or having abandoned her so she can marry him instead. "We're just happy you're alive," his mother says, squeezing his hands. "Who are your friends?" And Buck stammers through introducing them, calling Sal and Tommy his companions. His parents exchange a look. "I'm not getting married," he adds. "I'm sorry, but I-I can't. I won't." And rather than cut him off or disown him or turn him away, his parents ask that he just come home more.
8. It turns out that Eddie and Joshua have a flat together now, but Joshua has the itch to travel after hearing Eddie's stories. Bobby met a woman named Athena, brought her to sea, and the boat nearly sank. No one's willing to call her a jinx, but everyone starts doing superstitious rituals whenever she's onboard. Lucy is in New York with a journalist "friend." Hen and Karen opened a settlement house, helping their neighbors and taking in children who need a family. They meet a young man named Ravi who spent his childhood being sickly and wants to explore, too. It turns into a crew of even more rag-tag friends that brave the sea to California, to the growing city of Los Angeles. By the turn of the century, they're settled there. And sometimes Buck looks at his lovers and says something like: "We should go to the Andes." And then they get on their boat and go down to the Andes, nearly coming home with llamas. "I warned you this would happen," Sal sighs as Buck scratches the neck of a llama. "Happened with the camels." "And the horses," Tommy adds. "The reindeer. The sled dogs." "Us," Sal says, nudging him with a smile. "And us," Tommy agrees, smiling as Evan laughs at a llama that's trying to eat the shoulder of his coat.
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I pretend to be complex and clever but in reality, nothing has ever made me laugh harder than those bad Chinese subtitles from the bootleg Lord of the Rings DVDs. Tears streaming down my face, core aching, slowly suffocating because I’m laughing too hard.
Another Bucktommy thought I had last night, because can't stop, won't stop;
You know my pervasive head canon that I won't shut up about, the one where Tommy bought an engagement ring after the hookup, because he knew that if he were ever lucky enough to see Evan again and get yet another chance, he'd make it count? He wouldn't let Evan go?
Well, we all know how their next meeting ended up going...
But let's say that now, almost a year and a half later, Tommy is dating again. He has a boyfriend, and he's nice, but they've only been together for a few months and it's still pretty casual. Tommy knows Matt isn't the one, but that's fine. He's pretty sure they're on the same page..
...until the day that Matt comes across the engagement ring hidden in Tommy's sock drawer. He makes what seems like the most logical conclusion at the time, and calls Tommy in a hurry, voice full of excitement, letting him know that yes, he would absolutely love to marry him.
And Tommy...Tommy is too damn stunned to correct him. He never wanted to hurt Matt, and Matt never deserved any of this.
Now Tommy has to figure out a way to tell him that not only was the ring intended for someone else all together, someone he never truly got over, but also that he never really saw them taking that step at all.
And to make everything worse, the grapevine and all its gossip finds Buck, letting him know of Tommy's "engagement."
”I forgot why I came over here. Maybe if I go back,” he muttered to himself and went back to where he came from. Where did he come from? Maybe the locker room. He patted his pockets, but there was nothing weird in them and they weren't empty.
He was breathing weird.
Fresh air. He should go outside and get some air.
He turned on his heel and went further into the building, toward the stairs.
He pushed the door to the roof open and stumbled toward the edge. It was too hot to stand around in the sun, in the dark fabric of his uniform. The sun was bright and blinding. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but he couldn't see the screen. He fumbled the brightness up.
He found his thread with Tommy and sent off a,
congratulations
It felt like the right thing to do. All this time, he'd thought it was open ended. That there was still a possibility there.
The door was closed now. Tommy was marrying someone else.
Tommy found someone else.
Buck felt stupid more than anything. Why did he think it would work out? How childish it was to think Tommy was waiting. Why would he? Tommy had given him a chance to start over and he'd fucked it up in less than twelve hours.
Why would anyone wait around for someone like that? It wasn't like all those stupid movies Tommy was always quoting. Things didn't miraculously work out, just because you wanted it enough. There was no such thing as being meant to be.
His phone went off in his hand. He unlocked the screen. There was no new message, but Tommy had reacted to his message with a thumbs up.
Buck's hands went cold. Tommy had never reacted to a message ever – let alone with a thumbs up.
Buck called him.
”Evan – ”
”Are you OK?”
”What?”
”Is this a hostage situation? Or DV?”
” … I'm not sure I understand?”
”You reacted with a thumbs up.”
Tommy sighed. ”Evan, it's … I'm fine.”
”Do you even know where the thumbs up emoji is in the menu? You have never sent me an emoji that made sense, in any context, ever. What's going on?”
Tommy was quiet in a deeply ominous way.
”Can we meet? I can't have a fucking– A papertrail.”
Buck's eyebrows attempted to escape his face. If Tommy's paranoia had kicked in, something was deeply, deeply wrong.
”I'm four hours into my shift. And so are you.”
Tommy sighed again. ”Obviously, it can't be right now. And we can't be seen together, so I can't come meet you.”
”Hold on, hold on – we can't be seen together? Tommy, what the fuck.” Tommy made a small, distressed sound that did nothing to soothe either one of them. ”Tommy. My heart is about to fall out of my ass, I need you to tell me you're safe.”
”I am safe. It's just,” he took a breath. ”I don't know how to get out of this.”
”Get out of what? Your engagement?”
”My situation.”
”Can I be seen at Harbor?”
”What? Why?”
”If I burst into tears, I'm pretty sure Chim will send me home, so he doesn't have to fix it. Can I come to you?”
”Fuck. Shit. Let me get back to you. Gimme, like, ten minutes.”
The phone went silent in his hand. Ten minutes. He could have so many panic attacks in ten minutes. His heart was racing, his fingers were tingling. Buck put the phone in his pocket and shook out his hands. Ten minutes.
It was more like five, when his phone rang. ”Oh, thank fuck.” He held the device to his ear, ”Tommy?”
”Remember that gastropub we went to? It was a converted warehouse.”
”The one the fire marshal shut down? What about it?”
”Meet me there? I've got an hour.”
*
Buck thundered down the stairs, slamming every door on the way. Everyone eyed him as he came into the loft.
”It's OK, I'm OK.” He looked at the kitchen. ”C-shift covered groceries, right? You think they bought flour?”
Chimney came up to him. ”Buck. Hey. Hey. Buck. Hi. Listen, how about you take the day off?”
”Why would I do that?” he sniffled and wiped at his eyes. It was sweat, but Chimney didn't need to know that.
Chimney straightened up and put his hands on his hips. ”Firefighter Buckley, I think it's best if I send you home.”
”Chim – ”
He held up his hand. ”Take the day off, do something nice for yourself. Please.”
Buck pushed out his bottom lip and hunched his shoulders. ”M-maybe that would be best. If you're sure?”
”Get out of here, Buck, we've got it.”
He rubbed his eyes a final time. ”Thank you.” He didn't run, but it was a near thing. He changed out of his uniform and packed his bag as fast as he could, and made his way to the warehouse.
He hardly recognised it, when he made it to the address. He spotted Tommy's truck and pulled up behind it. Everything was burnt down.
”Oh, wow. When did that happen?” he asked, as he tumbled out of his car.
”Two weeks ago.”
”You look like shit.”
”So do you.” Tommy huffed. ”No, you don't, you look great. Thanks for meeting me.”
”What's going on?” Buck asked.
Tommy opened and closed his mouth. He'd looked more cheerful when he'd broken up with Buck. ”I, uhm,” he swallowed. ”I think I just realised you have to know, in order to help.”
Buck could do this. He could help with whatever situation this was. He could be encouraging. He could.
”Whatever it is, I won't judge you.”
Tommy nodded. ”I think you should.”
”Right. OK. I will judge you a proportionate amount. Whatever you need.”
”Fuck,” Tommy muttered and ran his fingers through his hair. It was already standing up, so he must've done it a few times already. ”I'm engaged.”
”Alright. And?”
”I didn't propose.”
Buck paused his encouraging nods to frown. ”Right, OK, so your fiancé did.”
”He also did not propose.”
”I'm pretty sure someone needs to propose.”
Tommy laughed, ”You'd think so.”
”What happened?”
”He found a ring in my dresser. A ring I bought for you.”
Buck was pretty sure his heart stopped. He definitely stopped breathing. Tommy bought him a ring. When the fuck did Tommy buy him a ring? ”He thought it was for him.”
”And I didn't correct him.”
”Of course you didn't.” Tommy made a face, but didn't dispute it. ”How long ago was this?”
”Three weeks.”
Buck took a deep breath. ”That's not great.”
”I've had heart palpitations for three weeks.”
Buck's ears were ringing a little bit, but it was a pretty straight forward problem, even if his emotional involvement made it a hell of a lot more complicated. ”How can I help?”
”I don't know,” Tommy sighed and bent over, clutching his knees. Tommy was not this animated, unless sports were involved. It was stressful as hell.
”I need more information. Why can't we be seen together?”
”I don't know, I'm panicking.”
”I can see that. Fuck. We're supposed to be good in a crisis. What if we … What if you tell him you changed your mind? How long have you been together?”
”Uh. Two months? Three?”
”That is … That is very fast. Which could work in your favour! Tell him you thought you wanted it, but now that you're doing it, it's too fast.”
Tommy checked his watch and stood back up. ”Talking to him is the issue. He's excited.”
”Tommy. You cannot marry someone because they want to.”
”I met his parents over Zoom.”
Buck had a feeling they were only scraping the surface. ”You told him yours were dead, didn't you?”
”Obviously.”
Buck sighed, but he couldn't fault Tommy for that. ”If your dad ever steps foot in this fucking town, I'm killing him, so he might as well be.”
”Thanks.”
”You need to head back?” Buck asked, after Tommy checked his watch again.
”I was only granted time enough for a personal errand.”
”I've got the day off, so I've got time. Listen, I'll think of something. Worst case scenario, I speak to him myself, yeah?”
”I don't want that.”
”Neither do I, but it's an option. What's his name?”
”Matthew.”
Buck shivered. ”Ew.”
Tommy laughed, a little hysterical. ”You know nothing about him.”
”I don't need to know him to hate him. Get back to Harbor, I'll figure something out. I'll call you, so maybe change my name in your phone.”
”Already did.”
”What did you change– No. No, I don't need to know. Go.”
*
Buck went home. He did two circuits with the gym equipment in his backyard, but it did little to change anything. His heart was still racing, his ears were still ringing.
He was trying to keep his own feelings at bay, to help Tommy, but it was really fucking hard. So far, his only suggestion for a solution, was come over.
As it closed in on Tommy getting off work, Buck still didn't know what to do. He felt bad having offered a solution and then not coming up with anything. The only thing he had left to offer, was his support. He pulled up a map on his phone and started looking for places they could meet.
*
It wasn't exactly clandestine, but hopefully Matthew wouldn't think to come looking for his fiancé at a park with a one star rating.
Tommy didn't look any better. He sunk onto the bench beside, with a heavy sigh. He still had his phone in his hand, so Buck asked,
”What did you change my name to?”
”Eva.”
”You deleted one letter?”
”And two emojis.”
”You didn't delete those before? How the fuck did Matthew think you wanted to marry him?”
”Listen, the issue is Matthew is a perfectly nice guy and I can't devastate him, like I usually do. I can't keep doing that to people. He needs to feel like walking away is the better, more preferable option.”
”Right,” Buck said mildly. He knew he was being petty, but he couldn't not ask, ”Does the ring fit?”
”No. Matt has dainty fingers.”
”Would it fit me?”
”Yes. I measured.”
”What? How? When?”
”You have butcher's twine in your kitchen. I did it while you slept.”
”I moved,” Buck said. ”I still have the twine, but it's a different kitchen. Not that that matters.”
”You got your own place? Thank fuck.”
”I cannot keep having this conversation – I was subletting. It was my house.”
”Christopher's height is etched into the doorframe.”
”Give me your phone,” he held out his hand. ”I'm calling Matthew.”
They glared at each other for a moment, before scoffing in tandem and letting it lie.
”Thank you for doing this,” Tommy said. ”You didn't have to.”
”If the ring was for me, I think I'm partially to blame.”
”No, you're not.”
Buck kicked him in the shin. ”Let me help.”
Tommy sat up straight and crossed his arms, turned slightly toward Buck.
”What if I tell him I've been cheating since the start? That we were never exclusive?”
Buck made face. ”That's pretty shitty.”
”My reputation is already shit, there's nothing to salvage.”
”Your reputation is fine.”
”Oh, I'm sure Abby only had nice things to say about me.”
Buck wrinkled his nose. ”Point taken.”
”I could kill myself.”
Buck sighed deeply. ”Killing yourself is not a solution.”
”I think it is.”
”Shut up.”
They spent a long time, coming up with increasingly more elaborate schemes. Buck was willing to do any of them, if Tommy asked, but it was becoming clear that they weren't actually looking for a solution, they were just making them up for the sake of talking.
It was closing in on dinner time, when Buck asked, ”You're gonna tell him, aren't you?”
”Yeah,” Tommy nodded. He'd been quiet for a while now. ”Yeah, I am. I just needed to freak out first.”
”Want me to come with you?”
”I do, but I don't think you should.”
Buck watched him get out his phone and text Matthew. They went back and forth a couple of times, before Tommy exhaled and put the phone in his pocket.
”When's it happening?”
”Now. I need to head out.” He checked his watch.
They hugged, before Tommy left. Buck squeezed him as hard as he could, but didn't say anything. He didn't say good luck, didn't tell him it was for the best.
*
Buck didn't know how long it took to break off an engagement. For Matthew's sake, hopefully it took a little longer, so he could get closure.
Buck spent a few agonisingly long minutes imagining what kind of man Matthew was. What kind of man found a ring after two months of dating and thought it was exciting, instead of terrifying. A very optimistic one, for sure.
Maybe it was a shitty thing to do, he couldn't tell anymore, but he sent his new address to Tommy, along with,
if you want to talk
Buck went through the motions of making and eating dinner, and texting back some of the colleagues who had attempted to check in during the day.
He was hoping, but not expecting to hear from Tommy.
Buck had suds up to his elbows, when the doorbell rang. He wiped down in a hurry, pushed things onto the drying rack, and went to answer the door.
Tommy looked about the same, but tired.
”Come in,” Buck stepped aside.
They stood in the living room for a beat. Buck with a dish towel, Tommy with his hands in his pockets.
”How did it go?”
”I have no idea,” Tommy smiled.
”Can I see it?”
Tommy pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. It didn't look special. It was just a silver band. Buck turned it over a couple of times, before the inside caught his attention.
It was engraved.
Are you free Saturday?
”You can keep it, if you want. Put it in a trinket box or something.”
”You're not proposing?”
”No,” Tommy shook his head. ”Clearly, that is not on the table for me, message received, loud and clear, never again.”
”Are you free Saturday?”
”Yeah, I thought … I thought it was sweet, I don't know.”
”No, I'm asking – are you free Saturday?”
”I am,” he said, before it dawned on him. ”Oh. Oh, you're asking.”
Buck looked at him for an extended moment. ”Now that the competition is out of the way.”
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This is the first of three pieces I created for the 911 We Are Enough fandom charity zine! I’ll post the others on tumblr soon but if you’d like a physical copy of this drawing plus a whole bunch of other incredible fics and artworks, the orders for physical copies are open until July 20th. You can check out the post below to see more details.
I’m so happy to be making stuff for this fandom and can’t wait to post some of the things I’m working on!
💬 0 🔁 24 ❤️ 15 · Physical Copies Available for Purchase! · Physical copies of the zine We Are Enough are now available for purchase! The p
Additional Tags: 5 + 1 Fic, Pride, Queer Identity Development, Realistically Undernegotiated Sexual Situations, Exhibitionism, Bisexuality, Flashback Style Storytelling, A Character Study of a Sort
Summary:
AKA 5 times Buck had queer sex during Pride and one time he did it when he knew he was queer
dumping feelings directly into the tumblr post box: it's more likely than you'd think. cw for cancer, terminal diagnosis, impending parental death etc. uh. let me know if anything else needs tagging.
Evan's squeezing Tommy's hand so hard he can feel the nails digging in, knows the little crescents will last a while. There's nothing in the world that could make Tommy change his grip.
"What," Maddie starts, and has to clear her throat before she can go on. "What are we looking at here?"
Phillip shifts in his seat and exchanges a look with Margaret. It's funny, Tommy only met them once before all this, he's really only known them post-divorce, but they look so connected. That little speaking glance reminds him painfully of his grandparents who were high school sweethearts and lived a life together that was longer than Tommy, fifteen and miserably embarrassed by everything in the world, starting from himself and working up, could ever have imagined. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that they went within three months of each other.
"Short months," Margaret says, and it's clear she's quoting someone. Some medical professional doing a job that requires depths of compassion and resilience that Tommy, soldier and pilot and first responder, cannot even begin to imagine accessing.
In his periphery, Tommy can see Maddie's chin wobble, can see Howie shift closer to her. He's too focused on the little square on screen where he and Evan are seated next to each other, trying to parse what he can from the tiny version of Evan's face he can see there.
He squeezes Evan's hand, presses their legs together, tries to say I'm here, I'm here, I'm here without diverting the physical markers of his attention from these people he's met once (bad parents, good people, he remembers Evan saying once, before he tacked on but they're trying) who are doing their best to deliver this body blow to their kids in a way that won't wreck them.
There's some more talk - working out some possibilities for a visit. Logistics. Tommy doesn't pay much attention. He's too focused on the way the exhaustion on Phillip's face is getting louder by the second, the way he's clearly struggling to follow along, the way Margaret looks so afraid beneath the veneer of practicality that Tommy thinks she might shatter.
"I'm sorry," Phillip says after a few more minutes of conversation flowing around him and about him. "I think I need to lie down for a spell.
Phillip smiles, and Tommy doesn't usually see too much of a family resemblance, but that's Evan's best self-deprecating smile to a tee and it makes Tommy's heart seize painfully in his chest.
"Just so long as you don't expect too much witty repartee," he says. "Turns out you need more of your brain available for that than I'm currently working with."
Margaret says Phillip in the same instant Maddie says dad and their eyes brim with matching tears. Tommy's still got his eyes on miniature screen Evan though, and sees him go through a face journey that expresses relief and amusement and horrible pre-emptive grief in the space of a split second.
"Whatever you've got," Evan says.
"We love you," Margaret says. "We'll call soon."
And then the video call is down to two connections.
"Jesus," Maddie says, and wipes her eyes.
Evan nods, his face calm and stoic and so clearly not allowing himself to feel anything. "Are you okay?" he asks.
Maddie doesn't try to wipe away the next spill of tears. "I have no idea."
"Let's talk later," Howie says, and Tommy nods.
Evan doesn't move, so Tommy has to use his free hand to reach forward and close the call. Evan still doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Doesn't take his eyes off the tablet screen as it fades to black.
"Hey," Tommy says.
Nothing.
"Baby," Tommy tries.
Evan sucks in a breath like he's been startled awake.
"I," he manages and then he crumples. Tommy scoops him up just in time for Evan to sob into his shoulder. It passes quickly and Evan pulls away from Tommy's clasping, anxious hold.
"Can't breathe," he says, snotty and stuffy, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Fuck. Fuck."
"I'm so sorry," Tommy says, and if he can't hold Evan like he wants he'll settle for running a hand up and down his back, as slow and steady and consistent as he can manage. I'll help, he wants to say. You can rely on me, I promise, I promise.
"I thought," Evan says. "Shit. I really thought something like this would be easier."
Than Bobby, goes unsaid. So does because I can prepare and because he loved me better and because I loved him more.
He cried for a minute, maybe two, but he looks like he's been weeping for hours. Red eyes, puffy eyelids, feverish cheeks. Tommy wipes away a couple of tears that spill and Evan takes a deep breath. Then another.
Then he says, small and scared, like Tommy's going to judge him for having a complicated relationship with fathers and father figures, he asks, "Can I say something?"
"Baby, you can say whatever you need," Tommy promises.
"We've been trying. He's been trying. It's been getting better and now - and now - " Evan's crying again by the time he gets the end of the sentence out. "And now it'll never just be good."
He lets Tommy hold him again but again, it's only brief before he rears upright and tries to breathe through his blocked-up nose and his trembling lungs.
"Shit. Shit."
Tommy's phone goes off and he ignores it at first. Evan wipes his face and says, "You should check that. It could be work."
"They have other pilots," Tommy tells him.
"Please," Evan insists, his chin wobbling.
Tommy will do anything he can right now to make this easier so he nods and scoops his phone up from where it's sitting beside the tablet on the coffee table. When he unlocks it, he sees that he's been added to a group chat: him, Howie, and Phillip. There's one message:
Look after them for me.
Once the wave of confusing, awful feelings has washed over him, he tilts his phone so Evan can see the screen. He lets out a brief, wounded noise and then laughs once, slightly hysterical before it gives way to honest-to-god giggles.
"What the fuck," he says wiping his eyes again. "I didn't even know he could make a group chat, that's - that's c-crazy."
Tommy lifts Evan's hand to his mouth, kisses his knuckles.
"Wanna DoorDash three different desserts and go to bed stupid early?" he offers.
Evan's smile is a brief, trembling, beautiful thing.
"I want that so much," he says.
I will, Tommy sends to the group chat before he switches to DoorDash and offers Evan the phone.
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The core conceit of Lord of the Rings is pretty funny. You are a twenty three year old in a suburb of Maine. The little bracelet in your grandpa’s attic has an inscription on it that is the password to the world’s entire nuclear arsenal. It is up to you to walk to the only hydraulic press in the world, located in Arizona, before the FBI finds the bracelet, kills you, and enslaves the suburb of Maine you currently live in
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