hey look it's a pinned post! general info: please feel absolutely free to dm/yap at me about any of my tags/spec/writing/posts/your thoughts/whatever. bouncing around ideas is my love language and it helps me write (& like evan "buck" buckley I crave validation)
[my writing tag] [Ao3 link]
main 9-1-1 wip/story tags:
[tommy begins]
[dead probie saga]
[antarct-fic]
[8:39 pm]
[pothos | pathos]
[sweetmeats au / what can ail thee, knight-at-arms?]
[keep the streets empty]
-
I also love making playlists and am happy to take requests
[need a smile?]
chronological list of snippets below (severely outdated) â
tommy begins snippets/drabbles [tag]
these snippets all belong to the same world/timeline to form a backstory for tommy. the categories nearly all overlap to some degree (e.g. both abby and victor appear in the dead probie saga)
27: Swim [army]
meeting Abby [tag]
shortly after Tommy returns to LA from the army, he witnesses an accident and calls 911. this is how he meets dispatcher abby clark
2: Family
Snippet 1
Snippet 4
Snippet 2
Snippet 3
[story with abby continues into dead probie saga & beyond - see links marked a]
-
bad habits aka the dead probie saga [tag]
"you don't name a puppy until you know it's gonna pull through." meet Brian Emmerson, probie to the 118, and puppy who didn't pull through.
post-break up and staring down the barrel of spending the holidays alone, tommy does the one thing any normal, reasonable person would do in his situation: he signs up to fly helicopters in antarctica
41: Hostage
Tommy & Lucy talk Abby
10: Pole
12: Disguise
11: Viral
Bubbling Buck pt 1
Bubbling Buck pt 2
43: Station
13: Volunteer
14: Begin
44: Triage
16: Treasure
33: Faith
Buck & Madney galley crew snippet
Buck & Madney & The Thing Tease Tidbit
Talk with Eddie snippet
17: Approach
-- tommy arrives in antarctica
24: Bizarre
29: Christmas
31: Imposter
34: Complex
Complex cont. snippet
48: Expose
23: Fantasy
-- buck arrives in antarctica
37: Bewilder
49: Moon
45: Wish
42: Lasagna
50: Recuperate
35: Proposal
Lunch order snippet
53: Strike
51: Floor
52: Panic
Drinks with Katie
Larry
46: Instinct
26: Enlist
54: Alarm
55: Mayday
57: Avoid
56: Captain
58: Sink
59: Flight
61: Stuck
39: Worst
38: School
40: Confess
The universe wants us to talk snippet
Buck yelling wip snippet
60: Karma
-
8:39 fic
turns out, the string of fate that connects buck and tommy passes through a specific moment in time: 8:39 PM. when a truck swerves off the road and a helicopter crashes at the exact same time, the string crumples and all those instances of 8:39 PM collide. oh, and they're both dying.
a chronological timeline for this one is... complicated. so just check out the tag. :]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
hey look it's a pinned post! general info: please feel absolutely free to dm/yap at me about any of my tags/spec/writing/posts/your thoughts/whatever. bouncing around ideas is my love language and it helps me write (& like evan "buck" buckley I crave validation)
[my writing tag] [Ao3 link]
main 9-1-1 wip/story tags:
[tommy begins]
[dead probie saga]
[antarct-fic]
[8:39 pm]
[pothos | pathos]
[sweetmeats au / what can ail thee, knight-at-arms?]
[keep the streets empty]
-
I also love making playlists and am happy to take requests
[need a smile?]
chronological list of snippets below (severely outdated) â
tommy begins snippets/drabbles [tag]
these snippets all belong to the same world/timeline to form a backstory for tommy. the categories nearly all overlap to some degree (e.g. both abby and victor appear in the dead probie saga)
27: Swim [army]
meeting Abby [tag]
shortly after Tommy returns to LA from the army, he witnesses an accident and calls 911. this is how he meets dispatcher abby clark
2: Family
Snippet 1
Snippet 4
Snippet 2
Snippet 3
[story with abby continues into dead probie saga & beyond - see links marked a]
-
bad habits aka the dead probie saga [tag]
"you don't name a puppy until you know it's gonna pull through." meet Brian Emmerson, probie to the 118, and puppy who didn't pull through.
post-break up and staring down the barrel of spending the holidays alone, tommy does the one thing any normal, reasonable person would do in his situation: he signs up to fly helicopters in antarctica
41: Hostage
Tommy & Lucy talk Abby
10: Pole
12: Disguise
11: Viral
Bubbling Buck pt 1
Bubbling Buck pt 2
43: Station
13: Volunteer
14: Begin
44: Triage
16: Treasure
33: Faith
Buck & Madney galley crew snippet
Buck & Madney & The Thing Tease Tidbit
Talk with Eddie snippet
17: Approach
-- tommy arrives in antarctica
24: Bizarre
29: Christmas
31: Imposter
34: Complex
Complex cont. snippet
48: Expose
23: Fantasy
-- buck arrives in antarctica
37: Bewilder
49: Moon
45: Wish
42: Lasagna
50: Recuperate
35: Proposal
Lunch order snippet
53: Strike
51: Floor
52: Panic
Drinks with Katie
Larry
46: Instinct
26: Enlist
54: Alarm
55: Mayday
57: Avoid
56: Captain
58: Sink
59: Flight
61: Stuck
39: Worst
38: School
40: Confess
The universe wants us to talk snippet
Buck yelling wip snippet
60: Karma
-
8:39 fic
turns out, the string of fate that connects buck and tommy passes through a specific moment in time: 8:39 PM. when a truck swerves off the road and a helicopter crashes at the exact same time, the string crumples and all those instances of 8:39 PM collide. oh, and they're both dying.
a chronological timeline for this one is... complicated. so just check out the tag. :]
hey look it's a pinned post! general info: please feel absolutely free to dm/yap at me about any of my tags/spec/writing/posts/your thoughts/whatever. bouncing around ideas is my love language and it helps me write (& like evan "buck" buckley I crave validation)
[my writing tag] [Ao3 link]
main 9-1-1 wip/story tags:
[tommy begins]
[dead probie saga]
[antarct-fic]
[8:39 pm]
[pothos | pathos]
[sweetmeats au / what can ail thee, knight-at-arms?]
[keep the streets empty]
-
I also love making playlists and am happy to take requests
[need a smile?]
chronological list of snippets below (severely outdated) â
tommy begins snippets/drabbles [tag]
these snippets all belong to the same world/timeline to form a backstory for tommy. the categories nearly all overlap to some degree (e.g. both abby and victor appear in the dead probie saga)
27: Swim [army]
meeting Abby [tag]
shortly after Tommy returns to LA from the army, he witnesses an accident and calls 911. this is how he meets dispatcher abby clark
2: Family
Snippet 1
Snippet 4
Snippet 2
Snippet 3
[story with abby continues into dead probie saga & beyond - see links marked a]
-
bad habits aka the dead probie saga [tag]
"you don't name a puppy until you know it's gonna pull through." meet Brian Emmerson, probie to the 118, and puppy who didn't pull through.
post-break up and staring down the barrel of spending the holidays alone, tommy does the one thing any normal, reasonable person would do in his situation: he signs up to fly helicopters in antarctica
41: Hostage
Tommy & Lucy talk Abby
10: Pole
12: Disguise
11: Viral
Bubbling Buck pt 1
Bubbling Buck pt 2
43: Station
13: Volunteer
14: Begin
44: Triage
16: Treasure
33: Faith
Buck & Madney galley crew snippet
Buck & Madney & The Thing Tease Tidbit
Talk with Eddie snippet
17: Approach
-- tommy arrives in antarctica
24: Bizarre
29: Christmas
31: Imposter
34: Complex
Complex cont. snippet
48: Expose
23: Fantasy
-- buck arrives in antarctica
37: Bewilder
49: Moon
45: Wish
42: Lasagna
50: Recuperate
35: Proposal
Lunch order snippet
53: Strike
51: Floor
52: Panic
Drinks with Katie
Larry
46: Instinct
26: Enlist
54: Alarm
55: Mayday
57: Avoid
56: Captain
58: Sink
59: Flight
61: Stuck
39: Worst
38: School
40: Confess
The universe wants us to talk snippet
Buck yelling wip snippet
60: Karma
-
8:39 fic
turns out, the string of fate that connects buck and tommy passes through a specific moment in time: 8:39 PM. when a truck swerves off the road and a helicopter crashes at the exact same time, the string crumples and all those instances of 8:39 PM collide. oh, and they're both dying.
a chronological timeline for this one is... complicated. so just check out the tag. :]
So, I wrote a part 2 to this fic because the brain worms wouldnât let it go.
Enjoy!
đŠś
*******
Buck squiggles the last signature on the last form and sighs, leaning back on his chair. âDone. Finally.â
âHmm?â Tommy answers across the kitchen, turning around taking a bite of toast. A few crumbs fall to his bare chest and he wipes them away with his hand. Buck is enthralled.
Morning Tommy was one of the versions Buck loved the most. Bare chested, sweats hanging low on his hips, hair dishevelled and pointing in every direction at once. It was the version of Tommy that only he got to see; the relaxed, non-put together man that was the opposite of the well postured, professional aesthetic the rest of the world got.
This is his Tommy.
âUh,â he pulled himself back to the topic at hand. âI finally finished all of the LAFD paperwork. Going to hand it all in today.â He blew out a nervous sigh.
âAre you sure?â Tommy asks, his tone gentle.
Buck nods. âI canât hide it anymore.â
âYouâre not hiding anything, Evan. Itâs your right to disclose this whenever you feel comfortable.â
Buck gets up and slides his arms around Tommys waist, holding his hands together behind Tommys back. Tommys forearms rest lightly on Bucks shoulders.
âI am comfortable. I haven told them yet not because Iâm uncomfortable about itâI just wanted to.. I dunno, keep this to myself for a few weeks. Enjoy this, just me and you before the world knows and everybody starts asking a thousand questions.â
âSo long as youâre sure.â Tommy says with that always adoring look.
Buck smiles brightly then presses a sweet, chaste kiss to Tommys lips. âAbsolutely.â
âIn that case, I have something for you.â
*****
Buck knocks on the captains door and Chimâs voice calls out.
âCome in!â
âUh, hey, Cap. Got some paperwork for you.â
âJust add it to the pile.â He gestures to the large pile at the corner of his desk. âHalf the time I thought Bobby was slacking off when heâd spend hours in here but now I know whyâthe paperwork never ends.â
Buck gives a halfhearted huff of a laugh and turns to walk out.
âOkay, stop.â Buck does as told and turns around. âWhy are you wearing a silicone band on your ring finger?â
Buck takes a deep breath. This was it; the moment everybody was going to find out.
âBecause Iâm married.â
Chimney stares back at him for a beat before his face turns to one of amusement. âVery funny Buck. Seriously why?â
âIâm not joking. Thatâs what all the paper work is for.â
Chimney immediately stands up and grabs the paper Buck had put on his desk and flips through them. âWait.. insurance, pension, name change form for Evan Kin-â He looks back up at Buck this time wide eyed. âKinard?! You and Tommy got married?! When?!â
âThree weeks ago.â He answered steadily.
âIs that why you used 3 weeks of PTO? To elope?!â
Buck shrugs. âPretty much, yeah.â He leaves out the part about them wanting to spend most of the time after their union naked in bed and making up for lost time. âThereâs no uniform requisition forms thoughâIâm sticking with Buckley professionally so thereâs no confusion if Tommy and I both on the same scenes. But legally, Iâm Evan Kinard.â
He was incandescent when he came home from the DMV yesterday with his brand new drivers license bearing his new name. Heâd excitedly told every staff member heâd spoken to that heâd just gotten married and was taking his husbands name.â
âI.. Does Maddie know about this?â
Buck shook his head. âNope. Youâre the first. Well, technically the secondâTommy has a pretty extensive life insurance policy and pension from his time in the military so we filed all the paper work adding me to the policies a few days after, along with all the LAFD stuff. So itâs his captain and you that know now.â
âBuck..â his tone has changed from being pissed that this was how he was finding out about Bucks nuptials, to being sad and genuinely surprised.
âYou can tell her if you like.â He says. He happy to hand that notification over to Chim. Half because he doesnât have it in him to hear his sister tell him heâs rushed into something (again), and doesnât want to see that familiar sad look on her face where she knows Bucks made a mistake and he âjust canât see it yetâ, and half out of spite because sheâs barely taken an interest in him over the last few months, even before little Robert was born. It felt kind of shitty on his part, but heâd grown tired of always putting himself out there for everybody else and barely getting anything in return.
Tommy, both before they broke up and after, had never once made him feel like he was less than; always came running when Buck needed him even after heâd been on the receiving end of Bucks spiteful words the morning after theyâd hooked up. He gave Buck more grace than even his closest loved ones had ever offered him.
âDonât you think it should come from you?â Chimney pleads.
He sighs. âHonestly.. I donât care.â And he really doesnât. âLet me know when youâve filed the paperwork? Thanks, Cap.â He gives a polite smile and nods then heads out of the door, leaving Chimney standing at his desk open mouthed.
He makes his way to the rec room which is currently empty and flops down on the sofa, taking out his phone and opening his message thread with Tommy.
Handed in the paper work. Chim now knows which means everybody else will know asap.
You okay?
He smiles to himself.
I really am. I love you.
The sheer amount of butterflies and warmth he feels saying that to Tommy is almost overwhelming. He simply canât quite reconcile how any human can feel this much for another person.
I love you too sweetheart.
Keep me updated how youâre doing today. If it gets too much let me know and Iâll storm the station to rescue you.
My hero!
Always â¤ď¸.
God, how can one person be this perfect? He knows Tommy isnât really perfect; that he has a lot of issues he needs to deal with. They both do. Before theyâd flown off to Vegas and gotten married they spent a day researching therapists, both individual and couples therapists and already had appointments booked before they said âI doâ.
They both are committed to not just their marriage but to each other and themselves; both wanting to put the effort and time into processing their pasts and the developing better and healthy coping strategies for when theyâre overwhelmed. For Tommy that meant learning how not to run, and for Buck it was learning not to cling.
Throughout the shift Buck couldnât help but analyse everybody as they worked, trying to figure out if they knew or not but everybody seemed their usual selves. That was until 10 minutes before end of shift.
Chim calls him upstairs and he arrives at the top to see everybody sitting around the dining table looking at him.
Here it comes.
âHey, Buck. Can we talk to you for a sec?â Hen says and he recognises that soft tone and look on her face as the ones she gives Denny when she needs to have an important talk with him.
He wants to turn around and walk away; to go back home to his husband whoâll welcome him home with nothing but love. But he knows that walking out will just delay the inevitableâhe may as well get this over with.
He walks across and takes a seat at the end of the table, leaning forward, locking his fingers together on the table.
âOkay, come on, tell me.â
They all look at each other, not quite expecting Buck to react to the intervention this way.
âThatâs why youâve asked me here right? To tell me that Iâve done something reckless, Iâve not thought this through, Iâve been too impulsive.. sound about right?â
Eddie pinched the top of his nose and sighed âJesus Christ, Buck.â
âWhat, Eddie? Am I making this about again?â
âCome on, Buck. Thatâs not-â
âThatâs not what? The truth? The trials and tribulations of Evan Buckley, right?â He scoffs.
Eddie has the audacity to looked aggrieved that Buck has mentioned that in front of the others. They all turn to Eddie looking for an explanation. Predictably he doesnât give one.
âCome on, you were being-â
âJustifiably upset that my best friend was leaving again and didnât tell me himself? Yeah. How shitty of me.â
âFor god sake, Buck, youâre-â
Hen interrupts whatever it is that Eddieâs about to say. âWeâre not here for that. Weâre here because weâre worried about you.â
âWhy? Because Iâm happy?â
âNo, Buck because you got married. To your ex boyfriend.â Chim replies.
âIn secret.â Hen adds. âThatâs not like you. You tell us everything, even the stuff we donât want to know. And now you do something so huge and potentially life changing and donât even talk to us before hand.â
âYou were expecting me to ask permission?â Heâs trying to sound calm but his tone is tight, giving away his frustration.
Hen sighs exasperated. âNo, Buck you donât need our permission.â
âWhy? Because Iâm a grown man who can make his own decisions?â
âNobody is saying youâre not a grown man, Buck.â Chim defends.
âReally? Because all you ever do is treat me like a kid.â
âThatâs not true.â Hen says.
âIsnât it?â Buck scoffs. âBecause from where Iâm standing all you do is tell me what I should do or think or feel. I canât make a single decision on my own without any of you telling me that Iâm wrong or Iâm not thinking it through.â He lets out a cold laugh. âI spent an entire year apart from Tommy because you all said I shouldnât contact him; that-that heâd made his decision to break up with me and I was being ridiculous for wanting him back. Of course you were happy for me to call him when he was saving your life.â He points to Chimney.
âThatâs not fair.â Chim snaps.
And maybe he did have a pointâit was about saving his life. And itâs not as though Buck regrets that. For all resentment he feels towards everyone, including Chim, over the last year, he did love him as did Maddie and their kidsâhe wouldnât have wanted him to die. But it stung to feel like him needing Tommy back because he loved him wasnât a good enough reason to gain the support of this so called family.
Heâs had enough at this point. Heâs indulged their intervention but now was the time to go home. He stands up and politely pushed his chair in.
âI know you all see me as nothing more than a misbehaving puppy that you need to rap on the nose with a newspaper once in a while-â
âBuck-â
Buck holds his hand up to stop Chim from continuing. âBut I am not a puppyâIâm a grown man who is more than capable of taking care of himself and making his own decisions. Even ones you donât agree with; even ones that might turn out to be the wrong ones in the end. And yes marrying Tommy IS impulsive, Iâll give you that, but if thereâs one thing Iâve learned from Bobbys death is that on any given day any one of us might not make it home and we should hold on to what makes us happy. And Tommy..â he couldnât stop the smile from spreading across his face. âHe makes me happy. Heâs the love of my life. Look, I love you all, you know that, but Iâm done being treated as if Iâm no more than a probie who canât think for himself.â
He takes a deep breath. âSo, hereâs whatâs going to happen: if you love me like you say you do and if you have any respect for me youâre going to accept my marriage to Tommy; support our relationship the way to support everybody elseâs. And if you canât do that, or wonât.. then let me know and Iâll file the transfer paperwork straight away. Because I canât be part of a family anymore that treats me that way.â
Immediately Buck feels the immense weight heâd been carrying on his shoulders for the best part of a year float away. Heâd been desperate to speak his mind and tell them all how lonely he felt and why they were the cause. And it was Tommy, since they reconciled 6 weeks ago, whoâd lifted him up and made him feel safe enough that he could find the courage to not only take the massive leap into marriage but to stand up to the people he loved.
He looks at his watch then back at the team looking back at him looking a mixture of shocked and guilt ridden. âShifts over. Iâll see you in 48 hours.â
And with that he hastily makes his way downstairs, down to the locker room to collect his things, out to the truck to drive away and towards the warmest and most loving home heâd ever lived in, with his husband.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Update: after I reblogged this someone messaged me offering me tickets to the sold out Hausu screening with a Q&A and autograph session with the director
Roger, itâs not for me - itâs for my friends â please bring good luck to the folks that I follow on here, they need it far more than I do. Thank you. :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
do you think you could do a gif set that's Buck's speech to Harry about being afraid and giving up on things but it's offset with Tommy in the breakup scene? bc I am having ~Thoughts~
Idea: After a chance meeting at a firefighter bar, Tommy Kinard a guarded Air Ops pilot and Buck, a restless academy recruit, fall into something neither of them saw coming.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
Buck hesitated just inside the door, the late-morning sun slanting across polished rigs and the gleam of the big red 118 stenciled boldly on the wall. A man in turnout pants and a gray undershirt looked up from a clipboard. Lean frame, dark eyes.
âHi. This is the 118, right?â Buck asked, turning his gaze away from stencil on the wall.
The man arched one eyebrow. âAnd you are?â
âEvan Kinard,â he stated offering a professional smile. âNew recruit. I was told to report to Captain Nash.â
The man froze, his eyes swept over him as he let out a low whistle. âKinard, huh?â He glanced back toward the engine and called, âHey, Hen! Youâre not gonna believe the new probieâs last name.â
A laugh drifted out from behind the truck. âWhat, is it âTroubleâ?â
âNope,â the man, Chimney, according to his shirt said, his gaze once more sweeping over Buck like he was a new puzzle. âKinard. You related to Tommy? Brother? Cousin?â
Buck almost snorted. âNo, sir.â
Hen stepped into view, her dark eyes locked onto him and took him in. âYouâre kidding.â Her grin was there, but it was assessing. âThe brass must be having a laughing.â
Buck tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. No one explained the joke, so he stepped forward and offered his hand. âYouâre not Captain Nash, are you?â
Hen wiped her hands on the towel and stepped closer. âHenrietta Wilson,â she said, offering her hand. âCall me Hen.â
Buck shook it, firm, careful not to overdo it. âEvan Kinard. Buck or Kinard, if thatâs easier.â
âBuck,â she rolled the nickname off her tongue, her eyebrow raised. âWelcome to the 118.â
âChimney?â Buck asked, nodding at the guyâs shirt.
Chim grinned. âClassified. Probies donât get the origin story.â
Hen snorted. âHeâs embarrassed.â
âLies,â Chim fired back.
The banter cut off when footsteps echoed from the upper level. âWhat do we have down here?â Bobby Nash called out as he headed down the stairs with a coffee mug in hand. Buck straightened; old training kicked in before his brain caught up.
âProbational Firefighter Kinard?" Bobby inquired. His gaze swept over Buck, from boots to slicked-back hair. âFire Academy Class 312. Solid marks. Two broken records. Instructors had good things to say.â His thumb scrolled. âNavy, six years. Petty Officer Second Class. Logistics and field ops.â Bobby looked up. âThat sound right?â
Buck cleared his throat. âYes, sir.â
Bobby nodded and filed it away. He eyed the fresh shine on Buckâs helmet. âYouâll learn fast. Or youâll burn out. Everyone thinks theyâre bulletproof their first month.â
Buck nodded. âRight, understand, Sir.â
Chim whistled under his breath. âKid looks twelve.â
âTwenty-five,â Buck corrected automatically before he could stop himself.
Hen stepped out from behind the rig, wiped her hands on a towel, her gaze sharp and amused. âConfidence. Thatâs cute. Donât lose it. Youâll need it.â
âLooking forward to it, maâam.â
Hen laughed. âHe called me maâam. Oh, Probie.â
Chim smirked. âBet he shines his boots, too.â
Buck glanced down. The boots were spotless. Not for show just the kind of habit you never shake once itâs drilled in. âForce of habit.â
Bobby took a sip of coffee and cut off the teasing with a quiet, âAlright, thatâs enough. Han, Wilson, show him where to stash his gear.â
As they led him toward the lockers, Hen leaned in just enough to murmur, âYouâll loosen up eventually, Buck. We donât bite.â
Buck smiled again, all teeth. âGood to know.â
She grinned, already amused by him. âOh, youâre gonna be fun.â
He set his duffel down and started unpacking, aware of the sideways glances. The kid with the spotless gear. The Navy vet who probably pushed papers. Theyâd pegged him, cocky and green.
Hen moved like she owned the place. Because she did. Not officially, but Buck figured every firehouse had someone like her; he assumed sheâd slipped into Salâs old spot, the one who kept the gears running smoothly to free up the captain for paperwork.
By nine-thirty, sheâd already roped him into helping reorganize the medical bay. âGrab the blue top bins,â she told him and didnât look up from the trauma kit she restocked.
âYes, maâam.â
âDonât call me maâam,â she fired back with a laugh. âMakes me feel like I should be wearing pearls and waiting for a PTA meeting.â
Buck hid his smile and adjusted. âYes maâ⌠uh, Hen.â
âThatâs better.â
She pointed toward the supply shelf. âGauze, second row.â
âYou ever work under pressure?â Hen asked, half teasing, half testing. âMost probies freeze when it gets real.â
Buckâs hands stilled for half a second over the gauze bin before he made himself smile. âIâll manage." He caught on to her rhythm quickly. By the fifth request, she stopped checking to see if heâd done it right.
Chim wandered through at one point, a mug of coffee in hand. âWilson, you breaking in the new kid or breaking his spirit?â
Hen didnât even glance up. âWhy not both?â
Buck grinned, quiet but genuine, and kept stacking supplies.
The morning stayed calm. No tones. No rush. Just the low hum of routine as the firehouse prepared itself for the next emergency. Bobby was somewhere upstairs updating reports. Chim disappeared to the kitchen, and the smell of something fried started to drift through the bay.
By noon, the station smelled like toasted bread. Chim had commandeered the kitchen counter and turned it into a full-blown sandwich bar, rows of deli meat, sliced tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, mustard, and mayo all lined up.
âLunch is served,â Chim announced, as he brandished a spatula like it was a trophy. âBuild your own, donât touch my bacon.â
Buck wiped his hands and checked the clock. 11:45.
âGo eat,â Hen said and waved him off. âYouâve earned your lunch.â
He nodded, grateful, and slipped into the locker room to grab his lunch. The table was half-claimed when he arrived upstairs. Chim perched with his phone, sandwich in one hand, lecturing to no one in particular about cholesterol. Hen hummed approval as she assembled something double-layered. Bobby was at the coffee bar, stirring milk into his mug as he pretended not to eavesdrop on the crew.
Buck hovered at the edge of the chaos and waited for a gap.
âProbie!â Chim waved him forward. âGet in here before Hen steals all the good bread.â
âNo need, I actually brought my own.â He set his lunch down on the corner of the counter. The container Tommy had packed that morning while he brushed his teeth. The sight that greeted him made something warm unfurl in his chest: a chicken shawarma, roasted vegetables, and lemon rice. Next to it, a small bag of kettle chips and a cookie wrapped in wax paper. And, tucked into the side pocket, his Bubblâr water with a post-it stuck to the side.
Eat. Hydrate. Breathe.
Come home to me.
Buckâs mouth went dry. He peeled it off fast and shoved it into his pocket.
Chim peered over. âDamn, Kinard, you brought real food.â
Buck shrugged. âLeftovers.â
Hen leaned in. âThatâs not take-out, thatâs love in a container.â
Buck felt heat crawl up his neck. âRoommate likes to cook.â âRoommate, huh?â
âRoommate, huh?â Hen quirked an eyebrow.
Chim laughed. âShit, your girlfriendâs got you eating better than we do. Look at this. Tell her sheâs got a future in catering, smells amazing.â
Buck snorted softly and ducked his head so they didnât see the grin he couldnât quite suppress. He slid into an empty seat, unwrapped the shawarma, and checked his phone. There was already a text waiting.
You alive?
Buckâs fingers moved before he could stop them.
Barely. Henâs got me reorganizing half the medical bay.
Three dots appeared, then vanished, then reappeared.
She likes you then. If she didnât, youâd be mopping the floor with a toothbrush.
Buck grinned, took a bite of his lunch, and typed back one-handed.
Lunch was perfect. I was expecting stir-fry.
I thought for your first day, you deserve a pick-me-up.
There was a long pause, then a photo came through. Tommy, in his flight suit.
Buck just stared. The picture wasnât even risquĂŠ, but something about the cut of the collar and the way his sleeves were rolled, zipper half undone, headset slung loose around his neck. He felt seventeen again, like the first time Zen had shoved a nudie photo into his hands and laughed at how fast he turned red.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, grinning helplessly as he shoved his phone into his pocket before one of his new crewmates could see.
The alarms sounded mid-afternoon and shattered the calm of the house, boots pounded, lockers slammed, a well-rehearsed scramble of bodies. He fell into step behind Chim and Hen, gear secured. A small apartment fire. Two-story residential.
âRide with me, Kinard,â Bobby ordered, sliding into the passenger seat. His eyes met Buckâs for a beat too long. Heâd seen plenty of rookies freeze when the smoke turned real. Better to find the fault line now, in daylight, with backup close, to know exactly how much ground theyâd need to cover with the kid. âStay close, do what youâre told, nothing heroic.â
âYes, sir.â He meant it.
The engine tore down the street, sirens wailing as wind whipped through the open windows. Buckâs heart settled into calm, not from fear, but from the old, familiar thrum of action. Chimâs voice cut through the noise from the back seat and ran through hydrant placement and entry points.
They turned the corner, and the smoke came into view, a thick, gray twist from a second-story window. Bobby was already on the radio. âDispatch, 118 on scene, two-story residential, heavy smoke showing from the north-east side.â
Hen jumped out started pulling a line. Buck followed without hesitation, grabbed the irons, and moved toward the porch.
His gear felt heavier, a new kind of mission, no targets, just innocent souls needing rescued.
A woman stood in the yard and sobbed. âMy husband⌠second floor, bedroom!â
âMaâam, stay here,â Bobby said and guided her toward the ambulance. He turned to Buck. âYouâre with me. Weston, get water on it. Han check her out.â
The heat was a physical blow and pressed in, alive and hungry. Buck dropped to a knee, his glove trailed the wall as he counted steps, his breath a steady, rasping sound in his mask. Above them, the fire crackled and wood popped.
âBedroomâs left,â Bobby said, his voice muffled by his mask.
âCopy.â
Buck pushed the door open. Smoke billowed out, the room was a vision of hell, the bed frame half swallowed by collapse, flames licked at the curtains. A man stirred on the floor near the bed.
âGot him!â Buck shouted. Three strides and he was there. The man sagged against him, coughing, half-limp. Buck hauled him up, every muscle in his back flaring under the strain.
Glass shattered behind them, the window finally gave way. As the shards settled, he tightened his grip and carried the man into the hall. âWeâre clear!â he shouted.
Bobby materialized from the haze and wordlessly took the manâs other side. Together, they hauled him down the stairs and out into the clean air.
Chimney and Hen took over as they put the man on the awaiting gurney. Hen's gaze found Buck, giving him a long, measuring look that held a new kind of respect.
âNot bad, Probie,â she said. âYou didnât even trip over your own hose.â
Buck pulled off his helmet, his chest heaved as he a few greedy breaths. âI read the manual.â
Chimney barked a laugh as he hooked the man up to a monitor. âCocky and literate. We might keep you.â
Buck offered a faint, weary smile, but it didnât quite reach his eyes.
The shower water ran dirty for nearly three minutes before it cleared. Buck leaned into the tile and let the sting of heat sooth his scars. First fire down. No fatalities. No mistakes. He replayed every move, every order. It was clean. Textbook.
But as he pulled on a fresh shirt, the echo of Henâs voice in the bay drifted back, the words he wasnât meant to hear as heâd approached the lockers.
âHeâs got that Navy swagger and charm. Bet heâll learn humility fast.â
Chimâs laugh followed. âGive him time. A good callus needs friction.â
They werenât cruel, just sure of their read. Theyâd seen his type before and were already waiting for him to prove them right.
In the kitchen, the crew was already eating. Bobby nodded toward the empty chair as he passed Buck a plate of lasagna. âGood work today, Kinard.â
Buck nodded back. âThank you, sir.â
Hen smirked around a mouthful of garlic bread. âCareful, Cap. Compliment him too much and heâll start thinking heâs special.â
Buck shot her the grin, all teeth and bravado. âAlready do.â
The laughter that followed was easy, filling the space just long enough before Bobbyâs voice cut back in, quieter this time as he set his report aside. âYou stayed calm. Thatâs rare for a first call.â
Buck nodded again. âThank you, sir.â â
Just remember, sometimes the hardest part is waiting for permission to act.â Bobbyâs gave him a long look, tone firm. âWe donât need cowboys at the 118.â
Buck managed another nod, his molars tight. âUnderstood.â
Heâd spent years in a world where acting alone got people killed. Where every move depended on trust, precision, and the man beside you. He could still see Zen breaking formation to save that kid and how that act had cost them Ghost.
By the end of his first shift, exhaustion had carved itself into his scars. He stood by his locker, duffel packed, and watched Chim and Hen head out, their easy goodbyes a ritual he hadnât learned yet. The house felt suddenly too quiet, the space between him and the crew vast and un-crossed.
He dropped into the booth at the bar with a groan.
Sal looked up from his phone. âFuck, kid, you look like youâve been dragged through hell.â
âFirst shift,â Tommy grunted, sliding a beer his way. His eyes asked the real question as he tilted his head, taking him in.
Buck huffed a humorless laugh. âThey think Iâm reckless. Cocky.â He lifted the bottle and took a slow drink. âDoesnât fucking matter.â
Tommy studied him. âYou followed orders?â
âEvery one.â
âThen you did your job.â
Buck shook his head, staring at the condensation on the glass. âThey see some twenty-four-year-old trying to prove something.â He finally met Tommyâs gaze, letting the blue in them pull the truth from him. âI did everything right, and the only thing that stuck was âswagger.ââ
Gina nudged the chips and salsa closer to him. âThen you prove them wrong by showing up for your next shift, and the one after that.â
Buck looked at her, then the guys. He nodded slowly, the fight seeping back into his bones. âYeah. Guess I will.â
Sal grinned and slapped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. âAttaboy, Buckley.â
Tommyâs smirk softened, his hand coming to rest under the table on Buckâs knee. âWhat was the call?â
Buck hesitated, looking between Sal and Tommy. âApartment fire. Two-story. Entrapment on the second floor. We ended the shift with a car accident near the station.â
Salâs grin vanished. âAnd you went in?â
âYeah. With the captain. It was his order.â
The table went quiet.
âYouâre telling me Nash sent a probie into structure on his first day?â Sal asked, voice rising.
Mickey let out a low whistle. âWhat the hell happened to watching from the lawn?â
Buck frowned, glancing around the table, confused. âIt wasnât like that. He was right there. It was controlled.â
âControlled?â Sal barked. âYou couldâve gotten roasted alive, kid.â
Gina reached out, putting a hand on Salâs wrist. âSal.â
âWhat?â he snapped, cutting his gaze to his wife. âYou donât throw a probie into smoke their first shift. Thatâs basic. You give them hydrants, supplies, and shadow time.â
Tommy hadnât said a word, just watched Buck before speaking, calm and certain. âHe expected you to flinch.â
Buck blinked. âWhat?â
Tommyâs tone stayed even. âBobby wanted to see how youâd react. He figured better to find your weak spots on his terms.â He took a long drink, eyes still on Buck. âHe underestimated you.â
Sal muttered something in Italian under his breath, sitting back hard. âThatâs bullshit. A captainâs job is to teach, not test.â
âSal,â Gina warned again, but even she didnât sound convinced.
Buck rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion creeping back in. âItâs fine. Really. It went fine. Textbook.â
Tommy leaned forward, elbows on the table. âYouâre not fine. Youâre sitting here trying to convince us youâre okay with a test you never shouldâve had to take.â
Buck met his eyes. âI passed it anyways.â
Sal exhaled, frustration giving way. âYeah, you did, kid. Still doesnât make it right.â
Gina reached over, resting her hand briefly on Buckâs arm. âHowâs your back?â
Buck blinked, caught off guard by the question. âItâs fine,â he lied, straightening a little.
âUh-huh.â She gave him a look that said she didnât believe a word of it but let it go. âAt least tell me you stretched after, unlike these yayhoos.â
Tommyâs hand squeezed Buckâs knee under the table. Buck didnât move, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
Mickey lifted his beer in a small toast. âTo surviving day one.â
Buck snorted, clinking his bottle against Mickeyâs. âTo shift two.â
Sal was still scowling into his beer.
âSal,â Gina said again, softer this time, the warning gone. She reached over and laced her fingers with her husbandâs until the fight leaked out of him.
Tommy hadnât taken his eyes off Buck once. Not possessive, just⌠cataloguing. The faint red line on Buckâs neck where the collar of his turnouts had rubbed raw. The tremor in the hand that wasnât holding the beer. The way he kept rolling that left shoulder.
Buck finally looked up. âIâm okay,â he said, low, meant only for Tommy.
The table pretended not to hear. Mickey started telling a loud, filthy story about a harbor rescue involving a naked yacht owner. Sal barked the laugh heâd been holding back.
Under the cover of the noise, Tommy leaned in until his lips almost brushed Buckâs ear. âCome home with me tonight.â
Buckâs breath hitched. Not a question of if he wanted to; they both knew the answer.
Tommyâs hand found the back of his neck, thumb pressing firm into the knot just below his hairline. A silent promise: Iâll work that out later. All of it. Buck exhaled like someone had just pulled him out of the water.
Buck is so used to not being taken seriously that he lied to Ravi instead of just inviting him, and Ravi was so completely unsurprised that I don't think it's the first time this happened.
And what's even sadder is that Ravi probably would've shown up anyway, because he's willing to go along with shit if it makes Buck feel better.
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