A Wolf can be a Wolfhound

When he gets Tommy again, it becomes clear to Buck he has a different kind of work ethic. He asks Buck about what he likes and doesn’t like and there’s something about Tommy’s voice that makes Buck confide in him that he’s new to sex with guys and he suspects maybe there’s other things he doesn’t realize he likes.

So Tommy asks for Buck’s permission to essentially run down a list and Buck gives the okay.

When Tommy asks if Buck likes being called a “good boy,” Buck flushes and grows hot. He laughs quietly. “Uh, yeah, that’s something I already knew, but”—he takes a deep breath—“I really like it coming from you.”

Tommy hums. There’s a sound like pen scratching on paper from his end of the line. “Noted.”

At the end of what has become a 2-hour phone call, after they’ve talked through Tommy’s list, Tommy talks Buck through getting off in record time, murmuring good boy when Buck comes.

It echoes in Buck’s head long after they’ve hung up.

Time passes and Buck heals and he stops calling the phone sex line and he feels a pang of guilt about Tommy losing a client, but Buck figures Tommy is so good at his job that he’ll be okay.

Buck dates and hooks up with some guys in real life and it’s great,

but sometimes he misses Tommy’s voice, equally commanding and praising, in his ear.

Would he still sound the same as Buck remembers?

Buck knows he could just call, but for some reason he doesn’t.

Months later, Buck ends up adopting a dog, Blaze, he rescues from a fire.

He’s with Blaze at the dog park in his neighborhood day when he sees a gorgeous guy—an absolute beefcake of a man—playing fetch with his own dog; a Weimaraner, Buck’s pretty sure.

Buck needs to get closer. He needs to know this guy’s name and ask if their dogs can have a play date and also how he likes his eggs and what side of the bed he prefers…

But he’s getting ahead of himself.

He makes his way over to the bench the guy is sitting at and he doesn’t miss the way the guy does a double take. Buck’s only a few feet away when the Weimaraner comes trotting back to his owner and drops a ball at his feet.

The guy scratches the dog’s head and coos, “good boy.”

And—oh fuck—the words hit Buck like a freight train and he trips over nothing at all, and stupidly blurts out, “Tommy?”

Tommy’s head whips up, his brow furrowed. “Do I—have we met?”

Buck rocks on his heels. “Not—uh—not in person. I’m—"

“Evan.” Tommy smiles when Buck nods. “Huh. I’ve never been recognized by my voice before.”

Buck shrugs. “Well, you left quite an impression.”

Tommy just looks at him, for so long Buck’s afraid he might ask Buck to leave him alone. Instead, he scoots over and pats the bench. “Sit.”

A quick glance over and Buck sees that Blaze is doing fine, having made friends with Tommy’s dog and a few others. Buck scrambles to join Tommy before he changes his mind.