it’s about damn time

--*--

A shiver runs up Buck's spine as Sal presses a feather light kiss to the sensitive place right below his ear and one of his hand slips beneath the hem of his shirt. The rough drag of callouses across his hipbone have him shifting, grinding down against the bulge starting to grow against his ass.

"Why are you still all the way over there?"

Buck opens his eyes, he's not even sure when he closed them, and looks across the coffee table at Tommy. He's still in the arm chair he settled in after dinner, fingers wrapped tightly around his beer bottle, looking half turned on and half pissed. A muscle in his jaw twitches when their eyes meet. Buck smiles at him and reaches out a hand.

"C'mere Daddy."

The bottle clacks loudly against the wood of the table and Tommy stands. For half a second, Buck worries that something has gone horribly wrong and that he's going to walk out. But then Tommy's mouth is on his, two fingers under his chin, lifting Buck's face to the angle he wants. It's like coming home and Buck's chest aches with the rush of emotions it brings. Sal's hand runs up his spine and he groans softly against Tommy's lips, pressing back into the touch.

Tommy grabs his waist, pulling until Buck is straddling him, his knees digging into the cushions on either side of his hips. Buck breaks the kiss and lays his forehead against Tommy's, rubs a thumb over his cheek.

"This isn't a tug-of-war," He reminds him gently. "There's no competition."

Tommy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, rubbing small circles into Buck's hips with his thumbs, the nods. When his eyes open again, they're dark with want. He turns and grabs Sal by the back of the neck, pulling him in for rough kisses, their teeth clacking with the force of it. Buck can see their tongues battling against each other and it might be the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his life. He moans and rolls his hips down against Tommy's, seeking friction. He thinks he could get off just watching them, he could be perfectly content just rubbing himself on Tommy's thigh if it meant they let him see. Sal pulls away first, gasping.

"Bedroom." His voice has taken that low tone that makes Buck want to drop his pants then and there. He wants to surge forward and devour him, or maybe be devoured. A sharp slap to his ass makes him yelp. "Now."

Buck scrambles to get up, nearly tripping over Tommy's feet in his hurry. Someone huffs out a laugh and he starts to pout, but a thumb presses against his lower lip instead.

"Always so eager," Tommy teases. Buck opens his lips and brushes his tongue over the pad of his thumb then sucks. Tommy groans. "Fuck, sweetheart."

"That's the plan." Buck grabs his hand and tugs him down the hall, his eyes flicking between Tommy's grin and Sal stalking after them, already pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

When they get into his bedroom, they're a tangle of limbs trying to get each other undressed as quickly as possible. Fingers knock together and tangle over buttons and zippers, Buck gets trapped in his t-shirt because two sets of hands are trying to yank it off at different angles.

"Maybe we should keep him like this," Sal murmurs as he struggles in their grasps. "Make his guess what's coming to him."

And fuck if that idea drive him crazy. Buck moans, fighting harder against the fabric until one of them takes pity on him and pulls it the rest of the way over his head.

"Maybe next time," Tommy promises. Buck's heart seizes, then soars.

Next time.

Buck isn't sure who he should be looking at. He and Sal have never explicitly used the word 'boyfriend' to describe each other, but Buck has no doubts that that's what they are. Buck's eyes are immediately drawn to his thick arms, the dark hair on his chest and stomach, the was his muscles ripple as he kicks his jeans to side. But Tommy is here, too, stripping his own clothes away to reveal the tan, freckled skin underneath. Buck hasn't been able to stop looking at him, still in disbelief that he's really there. He wants those broad hands all over him, can't stop imagining him backing him up against every wall of his new house. And there are so many walls in this place.

Sal tugs Tommy to him, cupping a hand over the front of his boxers, rubbing his palm over his cock, and Tommy's head tips back with a groan, one hand sliding into Sal's hair.

It might be the single greatest thing Buck has ever seen in his life. His hand wraps around his own cock as he watches Sal and Tommy rock into each other, he sees Sal lick a rivulet of sweat off Tommy's neck and wants to kiss the taste of it off his tongue. He doesn't realize the low whine is coming from him until Sal his pulling away Tommy to smirk at him.

"Poor baby," Sal coos, looming over him. "Is no one paying attention to you?"

That hadn't been an issue at all, but Buck isn't going to complain about Sal's arms wrapping around him to move him further up the mattress so he can press Buck into the pillows. Not when Sal dips his head into curve of his neck and he can see Tommy pushing his underwear down his legs before he kneels on the bed beside them. Buck's thoughts are going soft and fuzzy with desire, but he reaches for him, reminding him that they want him here, they need him with them. Tommy shuffles closer, knocking his shoulder against Sal's as he leans in to kiss Buck and swallow up the sounds escaping his mouth.

It's almost too much to bear. Buck's had threesomes before, but never like this. Never with two people who know his body like their own, know exactly how and where to touch. The weight of Sal's body between his thighs while Tommy's teeth and tounge tease over his throat and chest has him panting and begging in an almost embarrassingly short amount of time.

"You make such pretty sounds, baby," Tommy praises, swiping his fingers through the mess Buck has made on his stomach. "So sweet for us."

Buck's brain has been too sufficiently turned to mush for him to formulate any kind of coherent response. The best he can do is moan pitifully when Sal pulls out of him, running his fingers soothingly through Buck's sweaty hair and tugging gently at the ends before turning full attention back to Tommy.

Buck takes back what he was thinking before, Sal straddling Tommy's thighs and sinking down onto his cock is the hottest thing he's ever seen. He's torn between watching their faces contort in pleasure between kisses and letting his eyes fall to where they're connected; to the strong muscles in Sal's legs rippling as he moves, Tommy's hands sliding from his hips to grip his ass. He could just watch them all night, for the rest of his life, but they're reaching for him, drawing him back to them. Buck kisses Tommy, scratching across his chest to hear the gasping moans he makes when his nails catch on a sensitive nipple. Sal isn't as sensitive as he and Tommy are, but Buck has dedicated months to learning his body and finding all the places that make him tick. He takes his time running his fingers across his ribs, over the swell of his pecs, the thick muscles in his arms, before threading them into his hair and tilting his head back to latch his lips onto his neck.

"You look so hot riding his dick," He breathes into Sal's ear, wrapping his other hand around his cock, moving tight and fast like he liked it. "Wanna see you come all over him. You want that, Tommy?"

Tommy moans, his hips jerking, and Buck grins down at him. Whatever Tommy sees in his face enough to spur him on, thrusting up hard enough that Sal loses his rhythm, giving Tommy the chance to set the pace.

"Fuck yeah, mark me up. Come on, honey, give it to me."

As he speaks, Buck sinks his teeth into the place where Sal's jaw meets his ear. Sal's body jerks violently as he comes, shooting across Tommy's chest and stomach and Buck's hand. Tommy isn't far behind him, grunting roughly as he slams Sal's hips back down against his and spilling into him.

Sal droops against Tommy's chest, foreheads pressed together for a few long seconds as they pant and exchange short, soft kisses, then lifts himself up and collapses on the mattress between them, satisfied grin streched over his face. Buck knows Sal isn't the biggest fan of post-sex snuggling, he says it's too hot right after, but he tucks himself into his side anyway, and Sal wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Buck smiles and presses a kiss to his chest, then stretches his arm over his stomach to lace his fingers with Tommy's, reveling in the soft look and brush of lips against his knuckles that he gets in return, feeling complete for the first time in his life.

They force themselves up out of bed eventually, taking turns cleaning up in the shower and digging through the dresser for clothes. All three of them move back to the living room couch, Buck in the middle this time, eating dessert straight from the dish, but not speaking, each afraid to break fragile moment of closeness between them.

"I have no idea how this could possibly work," Tommy says after a while, the soft words seeming to echo in the silence. Buck feels his heart drop, and suddenly the sweetness of the cherries taste like ashes in his mouth. But just before the pain of another heartbreak sweeps in, Tommy lifts his hand to kiss his knuckles again, stretches his other arm over the back of the couch to reach for Sal.

2 - the picture frame

"I can't believe you nearly made us late for Bachelor Monday!" Harry hissed at May as they pulled into Buck's driveway.

"Not my fault," she sing-songed back at him. "Maybe if you were better at giving directions, we wouldn't have missed that turn."

"Not my fault you need directions when we come here every other week," Harry tossed back.

They bickered good-naturedly all the way up to the door, which opened as May raised her hand to knock.

"About time," Buck said sternly, then grinned as they both opened their mouths to argue. "I'm joking, I'm joking, let's go!"

It was a good episode, one that had all three of them shouting at the screen at various points. It was only afterwards, looking around as Harry ran to the bathroom before they left, that she noticed the photo in the hall.

It was a large one, framed, that hung in the middle of Buck's living room wall. The whole 118, back when Bobby was around, sitting at the firehouse; she and Harry were in the photo, younger and more carefree than they were now, but she couldn't remember for the life of her what the occasion was. Maybe there wasn't one; maybe they had just been together. She'd seen this photo many times, usually just pausing to look at it and say a quick 'hi' to Bobby—doing this to the picture of him Buck had in the kitchen felt too personal, too much like intruding—but this time, she stopped.

The glass was gone.

The frame itself was fine, but there were a few tiny scratches on the photo print, nothing too noticeable. She really only saw them because she was looking closely. And of course that moment, when she had her nose nearly touching the paper, was when Buck walked by, hands full of empty snack containers.

"Of course you'd notice that," he laughed. He was teasing, like he always did, but he looked a little embarrassed, too, a tinge of red on his cheeks. "I've been meaning to get the glass replaced. Came home late one night and bumped into it in the dark. I'm just glad the photo's alright."

She smiled, called him a klutz while she punched him gently on the arm. Harry came back down the hall and they said their goodbyes, heading out to the car.

It was a few minutes into the drive when she realized that Harry hadn't said anything since they left Buck's, and glanced over to see him looking thoughtfully out the window.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking about what Buck said," Harry replied slowly. "About how the glass broke. It sounded really familiar, you know, so I was thinking, and I remembered where I heard him say that before. At the barbecue a couple weeks back."

"It was broken that far back?"

"No. And that's what I thought was weird. That time, he was talking about a table, the one in the hall. But it was the same story. Same words, even. Came home late, bumped into it in the dark. It's just...weird. Especially since that picture is in—"

"The middle of the wall," May finished, considering. Buck had his moments, but he wasn't particularly clumsy. It was weird. But ultimately, not really something they could do anything about.

3 - the seat cover

"Buck, what the hell is that?"

Buck glanced back at Ravi, who had been about to throw his bag in the back of Buck's car before noticing the truly atrocious fleece blanket that was spread out on the seat.

"Didn't you have a seat cover or something? A normal one, not one that looks like it came from a grandpa's cabin in the woods?"

Buck grimaced. "Yeah, uh, I did. It got...damaged?"

Ravi's eyes narrowed. "Why are you being weird about it?"

"Cause it's embarrassing, okay? I was driving back from that park I like to go to, to—to hike. And there was this dog on the side of the road, she looked hurt, so I pulled over to try and pick her up. I got her in the car, but she was really scared and wouldn't stay still. She bled all over it while I was taking her to the vet, so I just left it with them when I dropped her off."

"Why's that embarrassing? Did you keep the stray or something?"

"No." Buck made a face. "She, uh, had a family, she was fine. It's just a weird story, that's all. I guess not really embarrassing, just don't really feel the need to share, y'know?"

"Sure, Steve Irwin." Ravi clapped Buck on the shoulder as he climbed into the front seat. "Just promise me you're replacing that blanket ASAP. It's an eyesore."

"Yeah, okay," Buck laughed.

4 - the patio chair

"You know, Buck, this yard is something. I'm surprised you don't live out here."

"Sometimes I feel like I do," he joked. He nudged Hen toward the lounge chairs at the shaded end of the patio. "Go, sit, I'll grab our drinks. I got this new lime syrup the other day, I think it'll go really well with that rum—"

"Ow!"

As Hen sat down, leaning on the arm rest of the chair, it gave way, clattering to the ground and throwing her off balance. It didn't hurt, really, it was more just surprise, but her yell had Buck running to her side anyway.

"Buck, I'm sorry—"

"God, Hen, don't apologize, it's my fault." His face flushed. "I was moving things around the other day, you know, trying out a new layout back here, and I dropped one of my weights on it. I guess I didn't check it as well as I thought, I didn't realize it was that loose. Are you hurt?"

Hen raised her eyebrows, then poked gingerly at her arm. "No harm done. Nothing a double shot of that rum of yours won't fix."

Buck nodded eagerly, running back to pick up the cooler where he'd dropped it, and Hen watched him, considering.

"So did you decide against a new layout?" She asked carefully as he handed her a drink and plopped into the seat beside her.

"Hmm?"

"The patio." She gestured around at the furniture, the workout equipment. "It all looks exactly the same as it has for months now."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, why try to improve on perfection?" He shrugged, but Hen noticed that the flush was creeping higher up his neck and across his cheeks. The boy was lying.

"Mhmm," she replied, taking a sip of her drink. It really was good; maybe she'd leave him alone just for today, even if he was very clearly keeping something from her.

5 - the dresser drawer

"Alright, kiddos, let's hit the—"

"Daaaaaad—"

Chimney closed his eyes, counting to five in his head before he turned to look at his daughter, a red stain blooming across the front of her shirt.

He knew he should've waited to give her that juice box, but he'd been so intent on bribing her to leave Buck's house without a fight...

Buck, who was cradling Nash against his chest and very clearly trying not to laugh.

"That's okay, sweetie, we'll get you a new shirt when we get home," he wheedled, the ticking clock in his head telling him they had about twenty minutes before Nash hit meltdown territory in the middle of LA rush hour.

"No!" She shouted back. "It's wet, daddy, I need a new one—"

"Jee-Yun—"

She balled up her little fists and stamped her foot and took a deep breath, clearly about to let loose an unholy screech—

"Jee, hey, I have clean shirts in my room, okay? Daddy can just grab one and you can change right here and then you'll be all dry for the drive home," Buck offered soothingly.

She nodded, sniffling. "'Kay," she agreed.

Buck bounced Nash apologetically. "Chim, in my room, to the left of the closet. There's that little white dresser, top right is her shirts."

"Thank you, Buck, you're my hero," Chim called, already heading down the hall.

He didn't often have occasion to be in Buck's bedroom; he couldn't really think of the last time he'd been in here, maybe not since the tour Buck had given him and Maddie when he first moved in. It looked pretty much the same as Buck's bedroom in the loft always had, except when he turned to look for the dresser Buck had mentioned, Chimney's eyes caught on the big one that held Buck's clothes. One of the drawers had been fully pulled out, resting empty on top of the dresser, and he could see even from here that the rails had been bent out of place, nearly mangled on one side.

Frowning and moving on, he grabbed a shirt from the top of Jee's drawer, threw a quick prayer to whoever was listening that it was acceptable to his five-year-old who had way too many opinions about her clothing now, and headed back to the door. Jee was in the process of pulling her shirt off, Buck promising to wash it and have it ready for her next time, and luckily she took the new one without a fight.

"Thanks, man," Chimney told Buck. "And, hey, are you looking for a new dresser? Cause Maddie and I found this great store that I think you'd really like, and their stuff isn't going to fall apart like the one you have. I can send you their website if you want."

"Oh," Buck said, "uh, sure, send it along. Hey, I'm gonna go put Nash in his seat, okay?"

Chimney blinked. Weird reaction, but he wasn't going to argue. The car seat had it out for him most days, but Buck never seemed to have an issue. Jee's booster was much easier to deal with.

He didn't think about it again until a few weeks later, when he went to get a new onesie for Nash after dinner and noticed the dresser was put back together, good as new.

"Guess he didn't need that website after all," he mumbled to himself.

+1 - the shower curtain

Maddie loved her little brother, to a fault sometimes, but sometimes, she could wring his neck. Now, ten minutes after she pulled into his driveway and after the second time she got his voicemail when she tried to call, was one of those times.

Sighing to herself—he was the one who wanted to take her to this farmer's market he'd been raving about; why was she waiting for him—she hopped out of the car and marched up to the door, already fishing through her purse for her key.

As soon as she walked in, she could hear the shower running. That, at least, explained why he hadn't picked up the phone; he hated the shower in his en suite, and only ever used the one down the hall, far enough from his bedroom that he wouldn't have heard his phone ringing.

Maybe he overslept and just ran for the shower instead of letting me know? She thought as she walked down the hall.

She pushed the door open, meaning to let him know she was there and to hurry it up, only to be met with a broad, muscled back, dripping with water under the steady stream.

A back that absolutely didn't belong to her brother, whose tattooed leg she could clearly see wrapped around the other man's waist.

"Oh my god!" She screeched, clapping a hand over her eyes.

She heard an undignified yelp from mystery man as Buck exclaimed "Maddie!?", then a crash, then silence.

Carefully, she cracked her fingers enough to peek at the shower. The water was still running, but both men were now on the floor, tangled in the shower curtain that had ripped clean off the bar. Luckily, the bar was still attached, but as she watched, one of the remaining rings fell to the floor, narrowly missing—

"Tommy?"

"Hi, Maddie," he replied, waving sheepishly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Buck demanded.

"It's Saturday?" She said, disbelievingly. "The market? The one with the cheese guy you wanted to take me to? You said to come get you at eight so we could get there before, and I quote, the soccer moms take all the good veggies. I've been waiting for the last fifteen minutes while you—" she gestured at the shower

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah, oh," she mocked him. They had the decency to look embarrassed, at least, though the shower made them look a little more like kicked puppies sitting out in the rain.

Sighing, she backed out of the room. "Get decent, please, I need to check you for concussions before I go bleach my damn eyeballs."

Ten minutes later, true to her word, she was poking at Tommy's head while Buck—already cleared—made them coffee, apologizing profusely all the while.

"So, how long has this been going on again?" she asked when she was finally satisfied that he wasn't hurt. Tommy immediately looked, panicked, at Buck.

"Uh, I guess—what, four months now?" Buck said after thinking for a moment. She couldn't help but notice that Tommy relaxed ever so slightly at his answer, even as he nodded in agreement. "We—well, you don't want to know that part. Just know that we also talked about a lot of stuff."

"And in four months you never thought, hey, maybe my sister would want to know about this?" She asked in disbelief.

Buck snorted. "No, Maddie, I didn't. Or, well, I didn't have to think about it. I knew you'd want to know, sure, but we didn't want to tell anyone yet. I don't know if you've noticed, but everybody we know is always in everybody else's business, and Tommy deserved better than to be thrown to the wolves like that before we actually had a chance to figure our shit out again. It wasn't a secret, really, it was just...private."

"That's understandable," Maddie said slowly. She reached out to gently squeeze Tommy's shoulder, and he relaxed even further.

Buck walked her to the living room, leaving Tommy to take a minute to process before they all headed to the market together.

"I'm happy for you, Buck," she said softly, opening her arms for a hug. He returned it and she squeezed him extra tight. "And hey," she says, stepping back and giving him a grin, "when you eventually feel like letting the peanut gallery know, give me a heads up. We'll split the betting pool winnings."

in case anybody's curious how things got broken (because of course i figured this out):

the table was a repeat of the hookup except when they were going down the hall buck tried to stop and lean on it and it was not up to the task of keeping two firefighters upright

the picture was actually a result of them going at it against the other side of the wall (neither of them would've wanted to make eye contact with anyone in that photo while doing the deed)

the seat cover got come stains on it after they were racing through the woods on a hike and got so worked up by the competition that they got each other off in the back seat afterwards and nearly got caught by an elderly lady and her dog, the inspiration for the (fake) story

the chair was actually the most innocent of all of them, buck convinced tommy to try sitting in his lap but the chair creaked a bit too much for either of them to feel comfortable with it for too long. he genuinely didn't realize that it was actually broken until the thing with hen