leashy

4. Buck invites Tommy to Chimney’s bachelor party. It’s nice that they’re reconnecting, right? Tommy shows up even though he’s on call. everyone’s excited to see him, and Buck spends so much time following him around and trying to talk to him that it takes him over an hour to realize that Chimney hasn’t shown up to his own party. While he’s trying to call Chimney, Tommy gets a call from work and has to go in. Buck pauses in between calls to say goodbye to Tommy and “be safe” slips out before he can think about it too hard. He spends the rest of the night tryingto track down Chimney and checking his phone for updates from Tommy. He has to rope Josh into the search, but they find Chim before sunrise. The wedding still happens in the hospital, but Chim is allowed to put his suit on and stand up with Maddie. Buck’s already arranged with the photographer to do a make up day for better photos. He’s been texting Tommy updates so he lets him know they've moved to the hospital even though he’s still working the fire. When Tommy appears after they've cut the cake, sooty and still in his turnouts, to congratulate Chim and Maddie before he has to go back to the fire, Buck puts an extra large piece of cake between two plates to make kind of a take out container, and nearly shoves it into Tommy’s hand. He also walks him back to the doors and watches him get back into the ambulance he apparently rode in with. One of the other firefighters who is driving rolls down the window and yells something to Buck as they’re pulling out, but Buck doesnt catch it because another two ambulances pull up as they’re leaving. Buck texts Tommy later to make sure he got home okay and gets a reply the next morning— Tommy tells him hed gotten home the night before but basically passed out right away. He sends Buck a picture of his sooty pillowcase and Buck sends back his sympathies.

5. Tommy gets a medal with them. Buck doesn’t mean to keep hanging around him, but — well, they’re the only two without someone else there. It just makes sense. He meets Tommy and Chim and Hen’s old captain, and glares daggers at him when he makes a shitty comment to Tommy. Chim compares him to a guard dog and — it’s not like Tommy can’t take care of himself but Buck’s not going to just stand there and do nothing. And it was just a look. He would have done the same for Chim or Hen. He definitely sticks close to Tommy after that though, so he doesn’t have to deal with Gerrard alone. Ravi makes a joke about them being like those magnets that don’t separate. That makes Tommy flush and look uncomfortable, and Buck can’t figure out why. If it’s okay for Tommy and Eddie to be friends then surely it's okay for Buck and Tommy to be friends?

6. Tommy’s surprised when Evan’s texts and calls continue beyond the medal ceremony. Now that they don’t have mutual events on the horizon, he’d figured it would peter off. But Evan still texts him near daily updates and Tommy’s been caught by his coworkers way too many times reading his texts and smiling about them. They spend the lead up of every trivia night teasing him about Evan and making sure there’s always a spot next to Tommy for him. Tommy thinks they’re being ridiculous, and after he says so, the next trivia night they make sure there’s no seats on the same side of the table as Tommy by the time Evan gets there. He pouts and misses three answers that Tommy knows he knows. Tommy ignores the looks his coworkers give him. They place fourth and Evan has a look somewhere between shame and like some kicked his puppy. He doesn’t join in on the conversation much, nursing his beer until he and Tommy are the only ones left. Evan pays both bills and trails after Tommy to his truck even though they’ve already said goodbye.

“Do you not want me to come to trivia anymore?” Evan blurts out.

“What?”

“You usually save the seat next to you for me and today you didn’t. Am I — bothering you?”

“What? No, Evan, of course not.”

“Well, everyone else was giving me weird looks.”

“Those looks weren’t for you, they were for me.” Evan looks at him in confusion. “Evan, I’m gay.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“They’re teasing me about that.”

Evan looks angry. “Why would they tease you about that? That’s just — that’s not something to tease about.”

“They think there’s something… between us,” Tommy admits, waving his hand between them.

“Oh. Oh!”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Tommy says. “I’ll tell them to cut it out.”

“You’ve never made me uncomfortable,” Evan says forcefully. “Never, Tommy.”

“Okay. Good. So everything is good between us? We can just go back to normal?”

“Sure.” Evan says, but his expression still looks a bit funny.

“I won’t be here for trivia next week, I have a shift, but I’ll see you the week after that?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Evan watches him as he gets in his truck and starts to drive away. Tommy waves as he pulls out of the parking lot.

7. Evan’s texts slow over the next week and Tommy tries not to mope. So much for things being normal between them. His coworkers definitely notice, because more treats than normal are appearing in the break room, but no one says anything. He notices a couple pitying looks when they think he’s not paying attention.

8. Evan texts him the day after trivia and asks if he wants to come over for a coffee. It’s been a long shift and Tommy kind of just wants to roll into bed for ten to twelve hours, but he also wants things to be normal with Evan again too, so he says yes.

9. Evan ushers him to a chair when he gets there, the little crease between his eyebrows that he gets when he's concerned out in full force. He puts a coffee mug in front of Tommy and slides him a plate full of muffins and cookies. Evan doesn’t sit though, he hovers awkwardly at the other side of the table.

“How’s the coffee? I couldn’t remember how you usually take it.”

“Mm, not like this,” Tommy says, “but it’s good.”

“I can remake it,” Evan offers.

“It’s fine. You can sit down.”

Evan notices he’s still standing and sinks into the other chair.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks.

Evan nods, then shakes his head. “What if I don’t want things to go back to normal?”

The coffee turns to ash in Tommy’s mouth. Ah, this is why they didn’t go out for coffee. Evan’s letting him down easy, in private.

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy says, his voice sounding distant and dull. He puts his mug down and stands up. “No problem, Evan.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about what your friends were saying and I — wait, where are you going?” Evan jumps up, putting himself between Tommy and the door.

“You said you didn’t want things to go back to normal,” Tommy says, confused.

“Yeah, because your friends were right,” Evan says, tilting his head to the side a little. “I— I think there is something here. And I want to, I want to see where it could go.”

Tommy stops thinking, and reaches out to tilt Evan’s chin slightly with two fingers, leaning in to kiss him. It’s soft, and gentle, and not as long as Tommy would like, but he needs to make sure that Evan’s okay with this. He pulls back and watches as Evan’s eyelids flutter open, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, there’s definitely something here,” Evan says, sounding awestruck.

“So that was okay?” Tommy double checks.

“Better than okay,” Evan confirms. Tommy starts to smile. but he’s interrupted by a yawn.

“Sorry, long shift,” Tommy apologizes. “I should probably get home before I crash.”

“Or,” Evan flushes. It’s adorable. “Or you could stay here? I mean, I have a bed, and, and pyjamas.”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be moving too quick?” Tommy teases gently.

Evan’s flush deepens. Oh, Tommy could get used to this. “I, I didn’t mean—”

“We can just cuddle?” Tommy can’t stop himself. “I’d like that.”

“I — really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Okay,” Evan nods. “Yeah. Great. Cool.”

Tommy starts up the stairs to Evan’s bedroom, but turns around when he doesn’t hear footsteps behind him. “Are you coming?”

Evan starts, like he hadn’t realized he was standing still, and quickly follows Tommy up the stairs.

10. “This feels different,” Evan mumbles against his chest, when they’re settled in bed. “I like it.”

Tommy tightens his arms around Evan, breathing in the scent of his sheets and his body wash. “I like it too.”

“Good,” Evan barely breathes the word, and he’s asleep in the span of a couple of breaths.

Buck asks if he can come in and Tommy says yes. They continue the silence in Tommy's living room. Tommy doesn't know about any of it and Buck isn't eager to tell him. For the first time, he has a choice in whether he wants to share it — he doesn't.

His eyes keep drifting to the hallway that leads to Tommy's bedroom. He looks at Tommy. He knows he should ask, he knows showing up here is crazy, he knows he can't just go lie on his ex-boyfriend's bed. It would be a shitty thing to do, just waltz in, like he's entitled to any of it.

But he does it anyway. He walks down the hallway and pushes the bedroom door open. The bed is unmade, like it always was. He can see Tommy looking from the living room. It sits heavy in his chest, whatever this feeling is. Knowing he's not entitled to any of this. He can't just show up in Tommy's life whenever he wants to.

But he can't not do it. He opens the door the rest of the way, toes off his shoes and climbs into Tommy's sheets. He cries almost instantly. His whole body feels like his skin has been peeled off, but Tommy's sheets are soft and slept in. Everything smells like him. There's not phantom smell of vomit, no anxiety sweat. The sheets smell like Tommy's skin.

Any moment now, Tommy will come through the door and ask him what the fuck he's doing, ask him to leave, and he'll have every right to, because his crazy ex-boyfriend keeps taking advantage of the fact that he loves him.

Tommy never said, but Buck knows that Tommy loves him. Buck was afraid of jumping the gun and didn't say it first.

Tommy appears in the door, but he doesn't look angry or outraged or anything like it. His brows are furrowed in what looks like concern; an expression Buck is all too familiar with at the moment.

Tommy climbs onto the bed and lies down beside him. He doesn't say anything, doesn't demand anything. All he does is lie close and thumb a tear off Buck's cheek. Buck gathers a handful of the sheets and presses them to his face. They're already wet, but he doesn't know what else to do.

Tommy touches the back of his head and Buck's whole body curls up in what feels a lot like fear. Tommy holds on a little firmer. His thumb presses up behind Buck's ear, rubbing gently. A sob rips its way out of his throat, only slightly muffled by the sheets.

Tommy stays. His hand is warm and steady. Buck doesn't know how long he cries for. It feels like forever. There is still the occasional hiccup, when he moves the sheet away from his eyes. He looks at Tommy through the wet clumps of his eyelashes. He hasn't looked himself in the mirror in weeks. He knows he's halfway to a scraggly beard, but he doesn't know what it looks like.

He's holding the sheets against his mouth. The words are warm and humid, when he says, "I'm sorry."

"I've got you," Tommy says. He has no idea what's going on, has no idea why Buck is even here, yet that's the first thing he says. Buck can hardly bear it.

"I know you do," every word shakes on the way out. Buck knows he's a horrible person, knows he's taking advantage again, but he knows. He knows Tommy has him and he knows he means it. "I'm sorry."

Tommy pulls him forward, wet sheets and all, and tucks him against his chest. His arms feel like they did the last time he held Buck, and like every time before it. He feels solid and real in ways nothing else has for over a year.

Tommy doesn't ask for an explanation; not because he doesn't want one, but because he's giving Buck a choice. Tommy spent six months telling him you don't have to do that every single time someone asked him to do something. Every favour, every everything. Buck had brushed it off, hadn't understood the significance. He does now.

"I fucked up," he breathes into Tommy's chest.

With no context, Tommy says, "It'll be OK." Tommy hasn't been to therapy, but he carries strong beliefs about the world and the people in it. Death is the only thing you can't come back from, as he so eloquently and morbidly put it one time. And the thing is, Buck believes him. When Tommy says it'll be OK, it will. Maybe not the way you imagine it will, but things will work out.

Buck stays. They both do. In the bed, at first. Then the kitchen, where Tommy makes him eat, and drink water until he feels sick. He stays the night. And another night. Tommy doesn't ask, all he does is stay. He asks about the here and now. Are you hungry? Are you tired? Wanna go for a walk? He excuses himself to the backyard and makes a phone call. Buck assumes he's calling out of work, but Tommy doesn't say. Tommy doesn't offer, doesn't ask, he just does it.

Buck's phone is slowly filling up with text messages and missed phone calls. After two nights' sleep in Tommy's bed, he's rested enough that the reality of the situation hits a little harder. He's effectively gone missing right after a detox, as much as he's been answering the texts, saying he's fine. Tommy asks if he's missed a shift. Buck says he's on leave. Tommy doesn't ask for any more information than that.

The only call he ends up returning is Maddie's. He keeps it brief, says he's with Tommy. It sticks in his throat on the first try, but the second makes it out. "I'm safe." Maddie is still worried. He doesn't want to give her details, but she won't let up. "It's quiet here," he swallows. "I just need it to be quiet." He doesn't know why that resonates with her, but she eases up and says she'll let the others know.

After he hangs up, he looks at Tommy. The guilt sits heavy in his throat. Tommy is taking time off to be here. He's wearing Tommy's clothes, he's eating his food, he's taking up space in his home.

Tommy thumbs a tear off his cheek and says, "I've got you."

"I keep asking you to do stuff," he sniffles.

"I can be mad about that later," Tommy says, as if that's an option. "Whatever this is, whatever you're going through, this is more important." He ends it there, doesn't demand to know what this is.