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'We don't have to discuss this using food metaphors, you know, I've really been working on my communication skills —'

'Not enough if you're coming to me with this instead of asking him directly.' Lucy sighs. Her hand hovers above the box of donuts, her perfectly manicured fingers dancing as she tries to choose between a strawberry glazed or cookie crumble delight. 'What's he doing?' She plucks the strawberry donut from the box and smiles at it lovingly. 'Or not doing?'

Tommy's not a weak man, but he's not strong enough to deny himself another emotional support sweet treat, especially not when they've been made by Evan's own fair hands. 'One: he's been churning out baked goods like nobody's business but I'm not seeing most of them. So where are they going?'

'Here?'

'Some of them are, but where are the rest?' Tommy shoves half the donut in his mouth and god, the Oreo crumble and whipped topping is exquisite. 'Two: he's been going to his knitting circle but he never comes home with any knitting.'

'Aww, do you think he's making socks for someone else's cold feet?'

'Thirdly; he's just being… weird. Cagey. I dunno. He always seems to have somewhere to be that isn't with me.'

'Sounding a little possessive there, Kinard.'

Tommy scoffs, offended. 'I am not possessive.' Lucy scrunches her face up. 'I'm not!'

'Whatever you say, boss.'

'Not your boss,' he says, and then in unison they say, 'not yet, anyway,' because Tommy knows it's coming and that Lucy's already stockpiling as many jokes and retorts as she possibly can.

Lucy nudges Tommy's ankle with her boot. 'Just put on your big boy pants and ask him, Tommy. Kinda seems like he's grown up a lot since I first met him. He's not like… that anymore.'

Alarm bells go off in Tommy head, and in the hangar, too. 'Like what?'

'Saved by the bell, whaddya know?'

'Luce,' Tommy yells, because Lucy's already bolted for the stairs, 'like what?'

'Sorry!' she yells back, pointing at her ears and shrugging.

Tommy thinks about it for the rest of the day, and most of the night, too. He and Evan miss each other by a couple of hours when Tommy finishes his shift late and Evan goes in for his early. Tucked up in their bed later that night, Tommy replays a voice note Evan left him. It's almost six minutes long, but Tommy replays it at 1x speed anyway and hopes with everything inside that no one else is getting a rundown of everything Evan did since waking up.

* There's nothing suspicious about Evan taking a phone call in the another room, per se, but what is suspicious is the way Evan quickly untangles himself from Tommy's arm while they're watching a movie on a Saturday afternoon and shuts himself in their bedroom after answering it. Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. Maybe he is a little possessive. So what? It's Sunday, it's September, it's pouring with rain and it's the first weekend in what feels like months that neither of them have any responsibilities beyond performing basic human functions.

Evan's voice carries. The bassy tone of his hmms and yeahs vibrates through the walls and the floors and Tommy strains to make out the words. Even when he can decipher odd word it sounds like Evan's talking in code, and it sucks to hear him laugh and not be in on the joke.

Maybe he's the joke? He's starting to feel like it.

He texts Lucy and gives her the lowdown and and receives a JUST TALK TO HIM!!!!!! in response. His phone gets shoved into the couch cushions instead of launched across the room, and he waits for Evan to bounce down the stairs and into fall into his reserved place back under his arm.

Evan comes down the stairs with a spring in his step. 'Sorry, sorry!' It's the brightest apology Tommy's heard since Tommy found Evan bathing a crusty-eyed kitten he found on the side of the road in their kitchen sink. The kitchen was flooded, and Evan looked like he'd won a wet t-shirt contest. They named her Chancy. The little traitor's been upstairs the whole time, no doubt curling around Evan's feet and purring while she kept him company. She follows dutifully behind Evan as he jumps off the last step and falls back onto the couch.

'Everything ok?' Tommy keeps it light and full of genuine curiosity. He pats his leg and Chancy pounces, choosing instead to settle between them.

'Not really,' Evan says and oh, that's not what Tommy was expecting. 'Barb's husband Ernie — you know Barb from my knitting group - isn't feeling too good.'

'And she called you why?' Tommy winces. Evan snaps his head towards him so hard Tommy's surprised there isn't an audible crack. 'No, I mean, shouldn't she call his doctor?'

'Oh, um, yeah. Y-yeah she will. It's just… we've been working on a big project together and she's worried about letting us down.'

'What's the project?' There's the lightness again. The exaggerated curiosity.

'It's top secret.' Evan winks and look, Tommy usually loves when Evan throws him a wink across a room or after whispering something in his ear that makes all the blood rush to his cheeks, but tonight he can't hide the way his face twists up in disbelief, all the years of damage and doubt clouding his ability to believe the evidence he's been collecting leads to more than one conclusion. 'Tommy, what's happening here? What's wrong?'

Tommy read somewhere that petting a cat can reduce your heart rate and blood pressure and today Chancy's fulfilling her duty as Tommy's resident stress ball. He gives her firm, long strokes. Her ears and eyes pull back with every pet, her purr is bordering on aggressive. Usually Tommy would unhook her needlepoint claws from his jeans but tonight he probably thinks he deserves some pain for asking — 'Evan… is there someone else?'

'Someone else where? Here?' Evan's eyes narrow in confusion and then widen in realisation. 'Wait, are you asking me if I'm cheating on you?'

Dead silence, just the sound of Chancy having the time of her life and Tommy's heartbeat pounding in his ears. Tommy lifts his head, tries to hold onto his pride. 'I guess I am.'

It's like the worst morning after of Tommy's life all over again and there's nowhere for Tommy to run to. They have a shared calendar app now; Evan knows every shift and event weeks in advance.

Tommy's still growing, but unfortunately so is a horrible weed of doubt that he just can't kill. When he forgets to pull it up at the root, it twists around everything good inside of him. He braces himself for the outrage, the distress, and the inevitability of hating himself for making Evan feel like shit.

Evan breaking out into genuine laughter is not what he's expecting at all. Not even in his top 10, if he's being honest. Chancy hooks her claws into Tommy's thigh and propels herself from the couch. Tommy's the one to hiss as she flees the scene, and Evan says, 'Sorry,' and thumbs a tear from the corner of his eye. 'C'mon Tommy, we both know I like 'em older but you're the only senior citizen for me.'

'I'm not the one in a knitting circle!'

'Well maybe you should be.' Evan grabs Tommy's hand and pulls him in. 'Seriously, what's going on with you?'

In plain language, like the kind he uses to write his reports, Tommy runs through everything that's been worrying him. He sticks to the facts and observations, all the things that he's been turning over in his head come out in neat little bullet points for Evan to digest. When he reaches the end he pauses, and takes a deep breath. Now that everything's out in the open he realises he never once consulted his heart, and he tells Evan so.

'And what does your heart say?'

'That I'm an idiot.' Evan gives Tommy the face, and Tommy forces himself to meet Evan's eyes. 'My heart knows you would never, and that I'm an idiot for reading into what other people say.'

'What do you mean?'

'It's stupid,' Tommy says indifferently, but Evan's interest is piqued and there's no escape now. 'It was just something Lucy said.'

Evan stiffens, and then it's Tommy's turn to coax the truth out of him. Evan explains in a rush of words, fighting to get them out before he's physically restrained by some unknown force and Lucy, really?

Laughter rolls out of Tommy, his whole body shaking the tension loose. Evan pushes his arm playfully and whines for Tommy to shut up. 'Make me,' Tommy says, still laughing, and pulls Evan on top of him.

With the air clear, their combined weight and need sinks them deeper into the couch. Tommy rests his hands on the soft curve of Evan's hips as his body rises and falls. Whatever worries Tommy had are lost in the taste of Evan's mouth, and the sharp buzz of Evan gripping his hair by its roots.

* It's a perfect Thursday in November. Harbour's qui — Harbour's had zero calls to action today which is great news for Tommy because he's been wanting to detail the interior of one of their Bell 505's for days. Who the hell eats a bag of chips while at the controls, anyway? Tommy's going to find out as soon as he buffs the grease marks out of the control panel.

Robert Plant's voice echoes across the hangar and Tommy takes a moment to air drum his frustration away after he brushes away a collection of crumbs from the footwell. Lucy's urgent footsteps barely register until she's banging on the cockpit door.

'Where's the fire?' he asks without looking away from his work.

'Get on the radio now.' Tommy's not slow to move, but he's not falling in step quick enough for Lucy's liking. 'Now. It's Buck.'

'Why's Evan radioing the station? Oh, he's gonna be pissed if he smashed his phone screen again —'

'Tommy just…' There's something in Lucy's eyes. Something Tommy doesn't like at all.

'What's going on?' He's already five steps ahead of her as she tries to play down whatever has her so rattled. At the comms unit, Tommy tightens his hand around the speaker mic and pushes the button. As smooth as he can manage, he says, 'Evan, this is an open channel.'

Evan's laugh is strained and tinny through the speaker, and Tommy knows the sound of a rotor as well as he knows his own voice. 'I lied when I said I wasn't cheating on you.'

'Again, open channel. What are you talking about?'

'I've been taking flying lessons from someone who isn't you. I'm sorry.'

'O…k,' Tommy says, because it's absurd that Evan would class that as cheating even though it stings a little to think Tommy wasn't the one to give Evan his wings. 'That's not… I mean, that's ok.'

'The engine's been um, kinda cutting out and uh, I can smell smoke and my instructor Ernie he's — I can't find a pulse, Tommy.'

Tommy's stomach churns. 'You really buried the lede on that one, kid.' Tommy blows a breath out through his pursed lips. 'Tell me everything,' he says, and switches to a headset. 'Where are you now?'

'Somewhere over Solstice Canyon. I was gonna surprise you —'

'You succeeded. Give me your coordinates.' Evan rattles them off quickly and Tommy scrawls them on a piece of paper. Lucy rips it off the pad before Tommy's pen leaves the paper. 'What are you doing?' he hisses, and tries to snatch the paper back.

'If his engine dies right now got about thirty seconds, a minute tops. You really want me to be the one who stays here on the radio with him while you get ready to go?' Lucy reaches out and touches Tommy's arm gently which, historically, has never been a good sign. They stare each other down for more seconds than they have before Tommy accepts the inevitable.

'Lucy and Wheeler are coming to you right now.' Tommy snaps his fingers and points Lucy towards the tarmac. 'I'm going to talk you through putting her down, ok?' A great whoosh and mechanical whirr of the rotor screams over the radio. 'I can hear her struggling. You need to find the flattest clearing you can and aim for it. Just take it easy; you don't want to overshoot it.' Tommy closes his eyes and shakes his head. How can this be happening without him behind the controls? 'Evan? You with me?'

'Yeah.' Evan gulps. 'I-I see a spot.' Evan gives him an altitude check. It's all quick math on Tommy's side as he works out the rate of descent. He can barely read his own handwriting for how shaky it is.

'How's the view anyway?' Tommy can picture the sloped terrain perfectly and it kills him to think of Evan looking down and thinking it might be the last sight he ever sees.

'Be a whole lot better with you next to me.'

'Next time,' Tommy says because there will be a tomorrow and the days after that. 'You can show me what you've learned.'

'So you can spend the whole time slamming Ernie's techniques?'

'Obviously.' In the distance, Lucy takes off.

'Make sure you tell Barb Ernie got me through this, ok? He's a proud guy.'

'You can lie to her yourself later.'

'Too bad we didn't get around to the emergency landing at the base of a canyon lesson.'

'No one teaches that lesson, baby. You're gonna make headlines when you pull it off.'

'Yeah? You really think I'm gonna do it?'

'My reputation on the line here so you're gonna have to.' Evan's laugh is more beautiful than ever. Tommy wraps the sound up and stores it deep inside his heart.

The radio bursts with static. A deafening pop has Tommy pulling one headphone free to spare one eardrum. Then, silence. Nothing but the air spinning the blades. Tommy can hear Evan perfectly when he says, 'This is it.'

'This is it,' Tommy repeats, forcing the confidence he know Evan loves. 'Descent's about thirty-seconds now, ok?' Tommy grips the lip of the desk and hangs his head low between his shoulders. Evan has one chance, and only one, to put the half of ton of metal falling out of the sky down gently. 'Lower the collective and keep the nose straight and steady. You're in a glider now.'

'I wish I had more time.' It's the first time Evan's voice has wavered, desperate and fearful.

'Plenty of time to land it, I promise.'

'I meant with you.'

'You're gonna have so much time with me after this you're going to be begging me to get lost.'

'Never enough.' The microphone crackles, and Evan sounds disembodied and far, far away, but there's no hesitation or doubt in his voice when he says, 'I really love you.'

'I really love you, too.' Tommy turns his head to face the clock on the wall. The seconds hand sweeps towards the fifteen second mark. 'P-pull the cyclic back now, ok? Nose up. Better to go too early.' There's no response. 'Easy does it, ok? Gently.' Gently, gently.

Evan's ragged breathing hits Tommy in stereo. It fills his ears and he doesn't want to hear it but he doesn't want to not hear it. He promised Evan a lifetime for better or for worse and if this is the end he'll be there until their comms fail and there's nothing but dead air between them.

The last thing Tommy hears is a dazed oh fuck and a hideous crunch, He calls Evan's name again and again as his body turns to lead and his flesh pimples and his muscles shake.

Switching over to Lucy's frequency takes forever, getting the words out takes even longer. 'He's down, Luce,' Tommy says quietly. 'I'll tell General to get ready.'

* Miraculously, Evan's nowhere near as twisted up as the helicopter is. Tommy sits next to his hospital bed, his knee bouncing impatiently as he waits for Evan to float back to consciousness. The worst day of Tommy's life is just another day for the doctors and nurses who dip in and out of Evan's room and, honestly, Tommy's thankful for it. He really thought he was losing his mind while Evan was up in surgery getting his arm pinned back together and they must have sensed it because it's been nothing but condensed, matter-of-fact updates since. No platitudes, just realities, and Tommy can take comfort in that even though Evan looks like he's gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.

Fluid drains from Evan's side and collects in a container next to his bed. It's pretty disgusting, but Tommy's been watching it obsessively since they wheeled Evan back in because every drop of fluid is a drop closer to them getting the hell out of there.

Slowly, Evan rouses. His birthmark is lost to a bruise. His blue eyes glitter in a sea of burst blood vessels. His smile is as bright and beautiful as always, even if it is a little drugged and lazy.

'Did I make it?' he slurs.

'You did.'

'Did I land it?'

Evan's probably not going to remember this conversation but Tommy deploys a white lie anyway. 'You landed it.' Tommy leaves out the clipped blade and the roll down the slope. It could have been so much worse.

'Wow.' Evan's IV pulls as he swats at his side. 'Still… banged up, though.'

'Rite of passage.' Tommy guides Evan's hand away from his chest tube and rubs his thumb over his knuckles.

'I'm so sorry.'

Tommy sighs. Smooths Evan's blood-matted hair back. 'Do you promise to stop apologising if I accept your completely unnecessary apology?'

'Dunno. Let's see.'

'I can't believe you went with a different instructor. His fees must have been very competitive.'

Evan's laugh morphs into a wince. 'Free. Plus cookies.'

'And here I was thinking I could sell you on flying lessons in exchange for my undying love.'

'Don't need something… I already have.' Evan's face twists up, and it's like he's flitting between the masks of comedy and tragedy. 'Poor Ernie. Barb's gonna be so upset.'

There's something Tommy's been keeping up his sleeve in case Evan needed a pick-me-up. 'Well, you're not going to believe this but Ernie's back with us.' The look of shock on Evan's face would be comical if it didn't look so sad and disbelieving. 'I don't know what to tell you. Maybe the force of the landing shocked him back to life?'

'Are you saying… I'm the first person… to save a life… by crashing a helicopter?'

'Um, maybe? Sure. That's one way to look at it, yeah.'

'Wow.' Evan's head sinks into his pillow. His split lips curl into a please little smile as his eyelids droop. 'Trendsetter.'

Tommy says, 'Sure, baby,' and shakes his head, laughing.

'Gonna fly you somewhere soon.' Evan's almost completely out. Tommy takes his hand again and soothes him back under. 'Bought a ring and everything.'

Tommy's stomach swoops. For the second time today, his throat feels tight. 'I'm so glad you're not going to remember this conversation,' he whispers, voice shaking.

'Me too. Gonna be a great surprise.'

'Yeah.' Tommy kisses Evan's hand, bloody, raw knuckles and all. 'I can't wait.'

---

Buck moves in on a Thursday, the first day of two weeks' PTO that he has finally taken. It's not a coincidence that it's Eddie's first few days back.

He doesn't want to see Eddie. He really doesn't.

He has already updated his address online last night, pausing to wonder if Chimney will notice his change of address. Doesn't matter. Administrative paperwork may be dull but necessary.

The heavier pieces of furniture are moved onto the moving truck he rented. He hauls the chairs and couch out, secures the rug again before tossing it in, drags boxes of his books with his little trolley.

It's two in the afternoon when he sees a familiar truck heading towards his new place. He skips down the few steps to the path and saunters out to the sidewalk.

Tommy steps out of his truck, clad in a loose tank top and faded jeans, muscled arms already covered in a sheen of perspiration. It's really hot and humid. "Ready to help," he says.

Buck smiles at him and jerks his head towards the inside. "Got a few boxes for you."

The heavier boxes are his books. Tommy hefts one box into his arms and wanders back out to the moving truck. Buck wonders if Tommy saw the coffee maker box stacked together with his kitchen appliances on the side of the door.

---

It's 4pm and they are both drenched with sweat from the afternoon heat. Buck calls for a break from unpacking and Tommy drives them to the nearest strip mall to look for something to eat in someplace where the temperatures do not come from Satan's armpit.

"I'll need to fix the air-conditioning," Buck grumbles as he slumps down in the old pleather seat of a Chinese restaurant. "And re-hang the doors. Maybe repaint the bedroom - that pale green reminds me of hospitals."

Two kids are doing homework in the corner and an uncle in a stained tee is at the roaring stove frying up their orders. Tommy nods at the surly young man who slinks over with their fried rice, coffee ribs, bok choy in oyster sauce and mapo tofu.

"I'll help," Tommy offers. "Just let me know when and how."

Buck smiles and nudges his foot against Tommy's. "Payment in beer or in pizza?"

"In desserts," Tommy replies blandly.

The food is excellent. Buck steals the last of the ribs from Tommy with his fingers instead of chopsticks. Tommy scoops the remaining quarter of the mapo tofu onto his rice in retaliation.

They share a mango shaved ice after that and Buck thinks, We can do this.

---

When Buck gets back to work, Chimney asks how the new place is.

"Needs some work, but the foundation's good," he says.

No one offers to help with fixing it up. Later, he thinks about it, and realizes that that he didn't expect them to. He still wishes someone did, though.

---

They get a new air-conditioning system from a guy Tommy knows (30% off is a good-sized discount, and Buck is thankful). They take the doors off and hang them properly so the corners don't scrape against the floor.

Tommy also helps him find a larger fridge as well as a chest freezer, and patiently loads the pantry according to Buck's system. Buck makes tiramisu for Tommy's troubles, and if they lean a little too close while sharing the dessert... Well.

---

Buck has decided on a blue for his bedroom, but he can't decide which of three different blues he wants.

When Tommy sees the swatches on the walls, he points to one - a muted cornflower blue - and says wistfully, "This looks like the sky the first time I flew."

---

"You busy this Friday evening?" Eddie asks. "I was thinking if you can watch Chris."

"Sorry, I gotta go pick up a dresser," Buck says. He doesn't offer to change his plans when Eddie waits with raised eyebrows.

After a beat, Eddie sighs and walks over to Hen to ask if she minds Chris popping over for a catch-up with Denny.

Buck resumes washing the rig. "It's in Orange County," he mutters to himself. "Solid maple. Vintage. Owner's moving to Spain and letting it go at a tenth of its value."

---

The next time Tommy comes over, the room is already painted, and Buck holds out a hand. Tommy stares at it, and then takes it with a tiny smile.

"Come fly with me," Buck sings (poorly). "Let's fly, let's fly away."

But Tommy laughs as they twirl around and around. When they stop, Tommy's face is all scrunched up in his biggest grin, and Buck knows his own face is flushed.

"Let's move that vintage dresser where you want it," Tommy murmurs. "Can't have you living in a house with nowhere to put your clothes."

Buck doesn't release him. "Can I keep a drawer for you?"

He sees Tommy's grin gentle into a smile, he sees him swallow and lick his lips. Finally, he nods. "I'd love that."

"I'm gonna dig up more projects to do around here," Buck warns him. "You're gonna need lots of changes of clothes. Best keep that drawer full."

Chuckling, Tommy presses his forehead to Buck's. "I'll do that."