Buck tying Tommy's tie before Tommy's captain ceremony?
well idk if this what you had in mind (i dont think so lol) but here you go 🫣 wc: 1,678 Ι canon compliant, grief, hopeful ending
Buck almost turned around in the parking lot.
He spotted Tommy immediately.
Center of the crowd, half in uniform, half distracted, talking to the chief while his captain clapped a hand on his shoulder. He looked good.. Sharp lines, steady posture, the kind of presence that said captain even before the ceremony made it official.
Buck’s stomach twisted.
He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, feeling stupidly underdressed without his uniform, even though he’d put on a decent shirt. He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. Showing up felt like picking at a scab he’d spent months trying not to touch.
Lucy had texted him the time and place with a simple He’d want you there. Please, come?
Buck hadn’t believed that then. He wasn’t sure he believed it now, watching Tommy smile at something the chief said, like nothing in his chest hurt anymore.
Then Tommy’s eyes lifted, scanning the crowd—and caught on him.
The shift was tiny, but Buck saw it.. the brief hitch in Tommy’s expression, the way his shoulders tensed, then straightened. Like he’d been punched and then remembered he was on display. And then a smile softened his entire face.
He excused himself from the cluster of brass and started walking toward Buck.
Buck considered bolting. His feet didn’t listen. Typical.
“Hey,” Tommy said when he got close enough. His voice was low, a little rough—shocked, and unable to hide how happy he was to see him. “You are here.”
Buck lifted a shoulder, aiming for casual and landing somewhere closer to raw. “Yeah, well. Heard some guy was getting himself promoted. Thought I’d see if they lowered the standards.”
That got him a huff of air, the ghost of a smile. “Funny.”
“You look good,” Buck added, before he could stop himself. His eyes flicked over the uniform, up to Tommy’s face, then away again. “Official. Important. Terrifying.”
Tommy snorted softly. “Sure. You know I've done this before, uh- interim captain.”
“Yeah,” Buck said. “That doesn’t—”
He stopped, the words stalling, reshaping themselves mid-breath.
“Well, t-this… this is different. Huge.” A big grin tugged at his mouth before he could stop it.
Silence slid in, sticky and awkward. There were a thousand things they hadn’t said to each other. None of them were going to get said here, with almost the whole department twenty feet away.
Buck’s gaze snagged on Tommy’s collar. The tie sitting just a little off-center. Knot too loose. Tilted slightly to the left.
He frowned. “You’re really gonna let them take photos of you like that?”
Tommy blinked. “Like what?”
“Like... h-here, let me,” Buck stepped closer without thinking. “Your tie’s crooked.”
Tommy opened his mouth—maybe to protest, maybe to say something smart—but Buck was already there, fingers closing around the fabric.
The world shrank down to that small point of contact. The noise of the crowd fell away—just muffled voices, distant chairs scraping, someone laughing too loudly. Buck could feel Tommy’s breath on his skin, could see the faint crease between his brows, and the deep lines around his eyes.
He tugged the knot loose, coaxed it back down. His hands remembered the pattern even as they started to tremble.
“Hey.. you’re shaking,” Tommy said quietly.
Buck didn’t look up. “Yeah, well. I haven’t done this in a while.”
“Fixing ties?” Tommy asked.
Buck swallowed. His fingers faltered for a second. His hands knew the steps, but there was a hollow space where steadier hands used to be. “uh- y-yeah something like that.”
He tightened the knot, smoothed the length down. It still wasn’t perfect.
They were so close he could smell Tommy’s cologne, clean and familiar, layered over starch and something warm that was just… Tommy.
Buck’s chest felt too small.
He forced his voice out. “So, didn’t know you wanted to become a captain.”
Tommy’s mouth twisted. There was a tiny shift in his expression, one Buck wouldn’t have caught if he didn’t know him so well. “Well,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, eyes skirting away, “I didn’t want to.”
Buck stilled.
Tommy huffed a humorless little laugh. “But, my captain wanted to retire and he wanted me to take over Harbor, a place he loves and built himself. I got nothing else to do, so I figured, why not?”
Buck’s fingers tightened on the tie for half a heartbeat before he made himself let go.
“That’s not true,” Buck said, a little sharper than he meant to. “You have… you had… plenty else.”
Tommy’s gaze flicked up, finally meeting his. There was a lot there—tiredness, hurt, something that looked way too much like longing. “I… did…”
That did sat between them like a dropped weight.
Buck looked away first. His eyes landed on the trucks lined up like a guard of honor, chrome flashing in the sun. The last time he’d stood in a lot like this, not even a month ago, Chimney's captain ceremony.. Before that, Bobby's—
His throat closed.
He forced a breath in, focused on the knot under his hands, one last adjustment after many others. The tie lay flat, centered, finally behaving. Tommy watched him with a stillness that made Buck’s skin prickle.
“You know.. I k-keep thinking about how many moments he should’ve been here for,” Buck said, the words tumbling out before he could trap them. “Calls, promotions, Baby Bobby being born… this. He’d have wanted to see this.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
Tommy’s eyes softened—the steady, quiet attention that used to make Buck feel seen instead of exposed.
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “He would’ve.”
Buck blinked hard. One tear almost managed to escape.
He swore under his breath and swiped at it with the heel of his hand, laughing once, bitter and embarrassed. “Jesus, look at me. It’s- It's not time for tears.”
Tommy’s hand came up, almost on instinct, fingers brushing Buck’s wrist, stopping him. The touch was warm, grounding, familiar in a way that hurt. In a way that Buck wanted more of.
“Hey,” Tommy said. “You’re allowed.”
Buck tried to pull back. Tommy didn’t hold him there, just… didn’t let him pull either. His thumb smoothed once over Buck’s skin before dropping away.
“Think he’d approve?” Tommy asked after a beat, voice quieter, he gestured around. “Of any of this.”
Buck let out a shaky breath. He forced himself to look up, really look at Tommy, the uniform, the tie he’d just straightened, the new lines of responsibility on his face, the same old eyes under all of it.
Buck smiled, “Yeah. He’d be proud as hell.”
Tommy smiled, nodded once. “Yeah.. Of you too, you know.”
Buck laughed once, because the alternative was crying again. “I don’t know. Pretty sure he’d have some notes.”
That pulled a real smile from both of them.
From the direction of the crowd, someone tested the mic. “Sorry for the delay, we’re starting in five!” a voice boomed out, a little too loud.
They both glanced over. People were moving toward the rows of chairs, uniforms falling into loose lines, families shifting and settling. The whole machine of ceremony gearing up, with or without them.
Tommy looked back at Buck. “You staying?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask.
Buck nodded. “I didn’t come all this way to bail before the main event.”
“Could’ve,” Tommy said, quiet. “But I'm glad you're staying.”
Something in Buck's face loosened at that. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”
For a second, neither of them moved. The air between them felt charged, like standing too close to a downed power line. One wrong step and everything would arc.
Tommy wet his lips, hesitating. “Listen… after all this is over, do you—” he broke off, laughed once, nervous. “Would you maybe want to grab coffee? Just… talk. No pressure.”
Buck’s heart did something painful and stupid in his chest.
“Yeah,” he said, voice rough but sure. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Some of the tightness in Tommy’s shoulders eased. “Okay. I’ll, uh… I’ll come find you.”
Buck cleared his throat. He tugged once more on the tie, as if the fabric could anchor him. “Okay you’re good,” he said. “It’s straight now.”
Tommy’s mouth quirked. “mm, can't relate.”
Buck huffed out a startled laugh. “God, I forgot how fast you are with those.” He shook his head, smiling. “You know what I mean. You look… incredible. Like this.”
A real smile this time. “Thanks.”
Buck took a step back, hands falling empty to his sides. The urge to reach out again—to fix something else, to say something stupid and honest like I miss you—was almost physical.
Instead, he drew in a breath that felt like it scraped on the way down.
“Now go make us proud, Captain.”
The title came out softer than it should have, reverent and a little broken.
Tommy’s eyes shone for a second, just enough that Buck knew he’d hit somewhere deep. Then he squared his shoulders, like stepping into a role and into himself at the same time.
He held Buck’s gaze. “I’ll try,” he said. “Stay close, I'll come find you.”
“Yeah,” Buck replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Tommy turned toward the ceremony, toward the waiting crowd and the future with his name on it. As he walked away, the tie lay perfectly centered, a small, invisible line running from Buck’s hands to his chest.
Buck watched him go, hands still buzzing with the memory of warm fabric and warmer skin. He let his eyes drift up to the sky for a second, muttering under his breath, quiet enough that only the ghosts could hear:
You’d like this, Cap. You’d really be proud. Of all of us.
He huffed out a crooked half-smile and moved toward the chairs, finding a spot where he could see Tommy clearly.
The ceremony started. People clapped. Names were called. And when they said “Captain Thomas Kinard,” Buck was already on his feet, hands stinging from how hard he was applauding.
They're getting coffee after this..
