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“Well, what else should I be! This is work! I’m putting my feelings aside, why can’t you!”
“Because YOU dumped me and even though I probably shouldn’t, I’m still in love with you!”
That last one hit Tommy like a bucket of ice cold water. By the wide-eyed look on Buck’s face, it seems like it took him by surprise as well. They were so close, yelling into each other’s faces only moments ago, now they were eerily silent, and forebodingly still. Tension started to seep out like a small leak at first, eyes dropping to lips, gloved hands reaching absentmindedly for the lapel of turnouts, then all at once, like a dam breaking.
They don’t know who moved first, sooty faces meeting hard, held by sooty hands. Buck kissed like fire, licking flames along Tommy own tongue, biting and pulling, two bodies awash in the flood. Buck pushed Tommy against the truck while Tommy cradled his face. They pulled apart only for a second, only to confirm in each other’s eyes that this was real, before they started kissing again. Hands slipped into open turnout coats, feeling hard muscle almost forgotten, bodies unknown but familiar, as if for the first time.
And just like that, after months of loneliness, Evan and Tommy were feeling each other’s heat again, their hard edges and grit and affection, hidden away between two fire trucks after a 3-alarm fire.
Had a fever dream about this so here ya go, more under the cut
He was giddy on the drive up. Him and Chris were testing the waters, starting off with a little three weeks in L.A. together. The past few months had been amazing, mending a relationship Eddie thought he had all but lost. Therapy helped tremendously, and they were going religiously every single week, which is how after a while, Christopher brought up the idea of going back to L.A., see the people he was missing, see Buck, who, even under all that hard teenage pretense, he dearly missed. Buck had been notified, of course, mi casa es su rented casa, and everything was set up for their arrival on the 15th. But that’s the thing, Eddie was coming up early.
It gave Chris time to finish school and leave on his own unaccompanied teenage self (part of the growing independence Christopher had wanted and discussed at length with his father), and for Eddie to surprise his best friend, get to spend a little bro-time before 110% of his attention was back on Chris. Which is how Eddie found himself at the stoop of his former home one sunny afternoon. On the 9th. 6 days early.
Eddie figured he still had the key, if Buck was home then all the better, but if he wasn’t he’d just let himself in, surprise him even more that way.
The pickup was nowhere to be seen, so Eddie took out his key and walked to the door, only it was… unlocked?
Gingerly, Eddie took a step inside. All the lights were off, the couch was slightly askew. Something felt… off. That’s when he heard it, very faint but there all the same: someone was in the house.
As soon as he clocked the fallen lamp, Eddie knew this was a bad situation. Silently, he grabbed for the baseball bat he had kept in the entryway closet hoping it was still there. Bingo. Bat in one hand, phone ready to dial 911 in the other, Eddie slowly made his way towards the source of the noise, when he heard another, louder.
Signs of struggle. Shit.
Fuck it, after their luck? Eddie dialed.
It rang, then answered. A familiar voice answered though Eddie could barely notice anything else as he advanced towards the noise.
“I think there’s a burglar in my house.” He whispered. He stepped closer and closer to the door of his former bedroom where he heard the burglar rummaging, grunting, all while the voice on the other line asked him for his address.
“4995 South Bedford Street. Hurry.” Steeling himself, Eddie pushed the door opened with his bat.
“Bedford Street… Eddie?” The operator said on the line.
“Tom– ahh fuck-”
“Buck????”
“Eddie?!?!”
“Tommy?!?!?”
“Eddie?!! Shit–”
Eddie stood there unmoving, phone in hand, bat touching the floor, eyes comically wide as he took in the scene before him. He was seeing so much more of his two friends than God ever intended for him to see. Well at least, it was nice to see that they’d made up. There were less explicit ways to find out, though.
“Uhh–”
“Shit– Uhh heyy Eddie, you’re– you’re early.” Buck scrambled to disentangle and cover himself as best he could, turning red from head to toe in an instant.
“Hey Eddie, uh, long time.” Tommy offered apologetically.
“What’s going on?” Said the 911 operator on the phone. “Is everyone okay??”
In the eerie silence, everyone could hear and recognise the voice of one Maddie Buckley-Han, the only 911 operator in all of L.A. apparently. Buck groaned.
“H-hey Maddie, everything’s w-uhh– everything’s okay.” Buck shouted, hoping she would hear him.
“Are you still…” Eddie made a gesture which would not have done well in charades, then gave up entirely. “...Uh– connected?” He winced as he said it.
Tommy snorted behind Buck who was absolutely mortified at this point.
“I should–” Eddie finally defrosted from his spot, pointed his thumb towards the hallway in the international sign of maybe I should leave, and promptly exited the room, and some minutes later, the house entirely.
Buck buried his face in the pillows and groaned again as Tommy gently chuckled behind him, every little jolt reminding him that they were still, as Eddie had so elegantly put it, connected.
—
“So it’s really fine?”
“Y-yes, Eddie it’s fine.”
“I can find a hotel if you want.”
“No! No, don’t be ridiculous, this is your house.”
“It was, but you live here now and uhh– I don’t, I mean it’s okay– I just, uhh–”
“It won’t happen again.”
“I’m not gonna c-block you where you live, c’mon.”
“A-At least not while you’re there!”
“Oh, uh, yeah. And uhh– I’ll try to, uh, announce myself next time. No more surprises.”
“Yeah, that was a surprise alright.”
They both laughed, easing some of the tension.
“Man, I did not think I was gonna find out you mended things with Tommy this way but, uhh, I’m glad.” Eddie said fondly.
“That we mended things or that you found out this way?” Buck answered without missing a beat, a shit eating grin on his face.
Eddie sighed, exasperated. “You’re an idiot, Buck.”
Here's a snippet from the Bucktommy Ski AU that I've been writing, idk if this is anything
more under the cut
also, a little exposition for you first:
You can tell a lot about a person from their sticks. For example, Buck rode a pair of Bent Chetlers 110, 188 cm with a pivot 16 binding. He wore his goggles under his helmet, and had retractable poles and crabgrab mitts, and for the life of him could not go out in 20 degree weather without a buff covering half of his face. Oddly enough, he rocked race boots, Atomic with a 140 flex. Huh.
Meanwhile, Hen had a nice pair of Stöckli SCs, a hard eared helmet, and matching Stöckli poles. She also had the heated boots and the heated socks, not to mention the heated vest and the heated mitts. If she could have heated pants, she would. Chim had old tele skis that held mostly with p-tex and epoxy and prayer and he would swear up and down that these were still the best skis ever. His tele boots were even in worse shape, old Scarpas that started to crack in places. Then again, he also wore sunglasses most days instead of goggles.
Ravi had the latest model of Rossis, some short-turn-carbon-TI something or some other and the Leki poles of course. Albert had dead-center mounted K2 poachers, tiny ass poles, and an old pock-market helmet he always wore a beanie under. Also, his snow pants were too big.
Eddie snowboarded and that, in and of itself, said it all.
But Tommy skied an old pair Black Crows as tall as him, with a shift binding which meant he skinned up with those skis as well. He wore his goggles outside of his slightly worn, sticker-adorned Poc soft-eared helmet, and always had gloves on, no matter the temperature. He wore cochise boots, the orange clashing with his black skis, with a zebra powerstrap fitted on them.
Buck has never been this confused in his life. He skied his entire life and was particularly good at it, bathed in the culture from so early on he was friends with half the pro-riders on the west coast. Point is, Buck had seen some really impressive stuff from really impressive people. Buck had even been on the Dew Tour for a couple of seasons; hell, he had done some pretty impressive stuff himself. It never impacted him like this, though. It wasn’t even anything, really, not even by Tommy’s standards, the man was a rescue helicopter pilot for chrissakes.
Still, when Buck saw him throw that perfect, laid-back double back off the ridge, and land pillowy soft on the snow below, something weird happened in his gut. Maybe it was the fact that Tommy was in his early forties and could still do it, a bum knee and multiple concussions behind his belt yet he was confident as ever. Buck liked confidence.
Buck heard him from afar, yipping and yelling cheerfully into the bright blue sky as he slashed perfect turn after perfect turn in the pristine untouched snow of the bowl. He understood the feeling.
Maybe that was it, he understood it. The rush, the unicity between skier and slope, the feeling of floating on still waters while going at inhuman speeds down a steep incline. Maybe it was because him and Tommy were both part of a very exclusive community of people crazy enough to do this sport, which was already extreme, at this level of extremeness. So the warm feeling Buck felt in his gut was… what, admiration? Understanding? Acceptance? At this point he was still too confused to tell.
The competitive little shit in him needed to surpass, or at least match Tommy and so he sent after him, turned switch, and threw a rodeo 5 effortlessly… and almost went tits up on the landing, smashing hard into the backseat. Split-second reflexes kicked in and he regained his balance just in time to not tomahawk the rest of the run down to the tree line. Once Buck regained control, he criss-crossed Tommy’s line, yipping all the way down too. Adrenaline, what a drug.
When he reached Tommy, the smile on his face was about a thousand miles wide. Tommy’s smile matched, his eyes squeezing shut in the sunlight as he took off his goggles.
“Wow, that was–” Tommy began to say before Buck interrupted him out of breath.
“Terrible, I almost ate shit on the landing hahaha but you!! You threw that double-back like it was nothing!!” Buck pushed his goggles, and effectively his entire helmet up his forehead like that would help him breathe better, squinting too in the bright noonday sun.
“Yeeeah still got it.” Tommy smiled, bashful. “Still, switch rodeo 5? In the wild? Pretty gutsy.” There was something in the corner of Tommy’s smirk, the glint of his white teeth. Buck’s stomach twisted again.
“Phew! Yeah. My sister says I-I was born without the fear part of the brain, uh. Says she has enough for the both of us.” Buck said, still panting, in an effort to break the building tension inside of him.
“I think your sister is right.” Tommy said coyly.
In that moment, Buck was transported back to the night before, his conversation with Maddie in the kitchen at her and Chim’s house.
“I mean, you say he makes you nervous. He’s nice to you even when you suffer from chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome, which apparently gets worse when you’re around him, and you’ve volunteered for every assignment with him this week.” Maddie enumerates. “And now, he’s inviting you to backcountry ski together on your day off because he’s–” She’s making air quotes now, “ –rusty? I think Tommy’s trying to ask you on a date.”
Buck guffaws, surely she’s joking. Tommy’s straight, right? Hen talked about a past girlfriend so for sure he was straight… right?
Plus, Buck was straight so this… this didn’t make any sense, it must be something else making him feel this way.
But Maddie has this look on her face, and she’s rarely wrong.
Buck gulped. “Yeah, she-she is most times.” Tommy was looking straight into his eyes, the pale blue of his irises making him look so very soft, almost boyish. A stark contrast from the squarely shaped brick building of a man that he was, from Buck’s first impression that Tommy was all hard corners and sharp edges.
“There’s a spot past the tree line. It’s not too far, there’s an old hiker’s refuge in a clearing complete with benches and a firepit. I thought we could do lunch there?” Tommy said.
Buck took a second too long to answer, still transfixed by the shade of Tommy’s eyes. What was that about? “Uh, yeah. Sounds great.”
—
Buck was hot. Tommy hadn’t mentioned that the lodge was up a trail on the other side of the bowl, so they had to skin up once they’d crossed at the trail intersection. Thing is, it was a bright sunny day and it was like 50 degrees outside. He knew he’d regret his wet shirt in a minute as they’d sit down to eat, so Buck had brought a spare. He didn’t miss Tommy sneaking a peek as he pulled the wet shirt off of himself and changed into the dry one.
He wasn’t the only one. Buck hadn’t missed the way Tommy’s quick-dry shirt clung to his frame like a second layer of skin, highlighting the mass of muscle that roiled within. Buck wondered if his hand was big enough to cover Tommy’s entire pectoral.
It made his throat go dry, suddenly parched despite the snow everywhere. He turned away under the pretense of digging through his pack for lunch, just to give his brain something to do. The sunlight caught flecks of ice clinging to the nearby branches, making everything look almost too beautiful, like a scene out of a dream. It wasn’t helping.
He glanced up again after fishing out the sandwiches, and there was Tommy, sitting casually on the wooden bench, one leg bent and foot propped up on the side, sipping from a thermos. Tommy smiled when they caught each other’s gaze and Buck’s stomach flipped in that same weird way it had earlier, back when Tommy landed that double back and grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.
He laughed a little, under his breath, trying to shake it. What the hell was happening to him? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been around objectively attractive men before. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the difference between admiration and… whatever this was. But nothing had ever felt like this. This low hum in his chest. This involuntary pull, like gravity had shifted and Tommy was the new center of it.
Tommy reached out to grab one of the sandwiches Buck was handing him. His fingers brushed Buck’s for just a moment. Buck inhaled sharply, eyes flicking up to meet Tommy’s. The silence between them was warm, albeit a little awkward.
“Thanks.” Tommy said softly, his voice low, steady. Steadier than Buck’s that was for sure.
“Yeah.” Buck said, but his voice came out rougher than he meant, like it had scraped against the inside of his throat.
They were… close. Close enough that their knees brushed when Buck shifted his weight. Close enough to see the faint crinkle lines around Tommy’s eyes from years of squinting into the sun. Close enough to smell that familiar mix of sunscreen and snow and cedarwood that Buck was quickly starting to associate with him.
They ate their sandwiches and drank sweet hot coffee from one of the thermos Tommy had packed and just talked. They talked about skiing, mostly, but about other things too; about Tommy’s other job as a pilot, about Buck’s brief stint in the spotlight, about the crushing leg injury that pulled Buck away from his X Games dream. They didn’t dwell too much on that one.
Soon, the sandwiches were gone, replaced by two cans of beer and more casual banter. When Tommy laughed, he did it with his entire face, nose scrunched up. Buck wanted him to make that face again and again.
The move was slow, but to Buck it felt sudden when their knees bumped on the bench, the toe of their ski boots touching. They were both leaning on their elbows, crouched forward but ever so slowly inching towards one another until their faces were only inches apart. In the warmth of the midday winter sun, their breaths barely puffed as they started to mingle. Words became low and almost nonsensical in the suggestions, veiled attempts at testing the waters, for what Buck was still too bewildered and caught in the moment to understand.
Tommy leaned forward first, bumping noses gently, asking for permission before diving in fully. Even if Buck knew the steps of this dance, it still took him by surprise when Tommy’s warm lips pressed against his own. Like muscle memory, Buck parted instantly when he felt Tommy’s tongue at the seam of his teeth. Before long, a firm hand held his face as Buck responded enthusiastically to Tommy’s advances, but the kiss was soft, unhurried. When they parted, they still shared that space between their faces, breaths materialising in the cold-ish air.
“Woah…” Buck said on an exhale, eyes completely glazed over, a furious blush high on the bridge of his freckled nose.
Tommy chuckled. “So, that was okay?”
“More than.” Buck’s mouth still hung open, mind not fully connecting the dots just yet. “So you’re… uh, you’re gay.”
Foot-in-mouth. Terminal.
Tommy tensed up a little, almost imperceptibly. “... Yeah, I mean, I thought–”
“No, yeah! Uh– I mean–” Well, it went from hot to awkward real fast. Trust Evan Buckley to Buck it up as usual.
Tommy’s confident facade started slipping. Panic started to grow in his eyes. “It wasn’t my intention, uh, I didn’t have, like, ulterior motives today, I just–”
“No and it’s totally fine, it’s just–” Buck saw Tommy pulling away, and though he had trouble computing what had just happened, he knew he didn’t want this outcome.
“And we got to talking, and you got real close– not-not that I’m putting that on you or anything–”
“Wh-what I’m trying to say is that–” Come back, kiss me again. Oh shit.
“Oh god, did I totally misread that? Oh fuck, Evan I’m so sorry–”
If Buck sucked at talking, there was at least one thing he was good at doing with his mouth. Taken by a spur of courage that came out of nowhere, Buck lunged forward, taking Tommy’s face in his hands, and kissed him. It was much hungrier than the one they’d just shared, so sudden Tommy even let out a little oomph as Buck’s face connected with his.
This kiss had more of everything, really. More tongue, more teeth. It was messy, and hard, and so, so good it made Buck’s head spin. Buck pulled away suddenly, still holding onto Tommy’s face, resting forehead against forehead.
“I-I don’t know what this means.” Buck said. He sounded raw, like he had gravel poured down his throat.
“Oookay?” Tommy’s wheels were too shook to spin, sporting instead a bewildered look as he tried to assess the vibe of the moment.
“I’m straight– well, I’m an ally– I mean, shit. I don’t know–” Something fell in Tommy’s expression, a familiar pain on his face. Bring him back, idiot. “I liked it, a-and I think I like you. And it only got clear to me like, seconds ago so–”
“It’s okay, Evan.” Tommy softened. “I swear I didn’t mean to–”
“Take me out on a semi-romantic backcountry hike and then kiss me?” Smooth Buck was making a small comeback. The tension needed a little break. At least it made Tommy smile.
“You got a point.” Tommy sombered then. “Plus, this is wrong, we work together.”
Buck burst out laughing at that. “That’s your argument?”
Tommy looked confused.
“It’s the ski patrol, half the team is dating each other. And they met while patrolling.” Buck explained.
“I’m kind of your boss, though.” Tommy said.
“So what? Bobby is literally married to the mountain’s GM. Like, she signs his paychecks.”
“You just told me you were straight.”
“And that I liked you. And to be fair, I am sort of having a revelation moment right now, so much stuff is starting to make sense I-I just have to let it!”
A silence.
“Sssso are you like, trying to convince me to date you?” Tommy said playfully.
Buck cracked a smile, the blinding kind. “I guess I am.”
Tommy smiled back, blue eyes shining in the sun. Fuck almighty he was gorgeous. How had Buck missed that?
“So, uh– I’m guessing we should take this slow. Y’know, since you’re figuring yourself out and all that.” Tommy said, fingers absently tracing the zipper on the side of Buck’s thigh.
“Y-yeah, uh, right. Slow. I’m guessing you, uh, might not want to start the rumour mill on your first few weeks either so uh, discretion?” Buck placed a lazy hand on Tommy’s knee, mirroring the slow languid touch of his fingers.
“I mean, I’m out, and I bet there are rumours about me already but uh, yeah, I think I’d like to get to know you on my own terms first. Before we tell our teammates.” Tommy plucked at a stray curl hanging from Buck’s forehead, tucking it in and massaging his hand through Buck’s hair in the process. If Buck shivered a little, it was probably just the cold, Tommy told himself.
“Yeah, especially since you’re sort of my new boss.” Buck’s hand was on Tommy’s chest now, splayed wide on one pec. The heat emanating from Tommy’s body was insane, like nothing he’d ever experienced with another person.
“I thought everybody dated each other in the ski patrol.” Tommy said with a smirk, tightening the hand in Buck’s hair and pulling just barely.
Buck bared his teeth in a wide shit-eating grin. “It is kinda hot though.”
—
“This is– aah– still considered as slow, right?”
“What? Sure, yeah. C’mere–” Buck pulled the suspenders of Tommy’s Helly Hansen bib, crashing his mouth against his as they stumbled into the ratty old refuge. “We’re just– uh– making out. H-high school stuff.”
Tommy had him pinned against one of the walls, tongue and teeth mapping the space right under Buck’s jaw.
“We should probably be making our way back– nngh– soon.” Tommy sounded out of breath, the opposite of composed, bitting out little fucks and aahs whenever Buck nipped at a spot on his neck or ground against him. Buck was obsessed.
“In a minute.” Buck twisted them off the wall, and still by the suspenders of his bib pants, pulled Tommy to one of the bunk beds.
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Eddie’s ears perked up. In between two bites of his scone, Eddie’s eyes followed Buck’s, who was himself looking at the new guy smiling and shaking hands with Bobby. The guy was tall, square-like from his shoulders to his jaw down to the shape of his hands. He was wearing an old black Helly Hansen bib padded at the knees and a chest pack with a radio. He had on a worn dark blue and orange cap that said 'Palisades Tahoe HELIVAC'.
Eddie had met him a couple of weeks ago – Buck was off-shift for a freeride competition he was patrolling in Sugarloaf – and they’d done a cliffside rescue that needed a short-haul air evac and they’d become fast friends. Nice guy, liked cars and muay thai, skied 40+ degree inclines like it was friggin nothin.
“Ah yeah that’s Tommy, he does air support with CALSTAR. He used to patrol full-time here in his twenties, I think he’s coming back? Pretty chill dude.” Eddie said, matter-of-factly.
Buck looked miffed. “How come you know so much about him?”
Eddie snorted through his mustache, Buck was so easily threatened. He’d done the same to him when they’d first met, so mortally afraid of being replaced all the time he had to puff up his chest in faux-male-dominance any time a remotely cool guy came along. “Chill out, Buck. He’s not taking your spot, besides there’s never enough of us on the mountain anyways.”
“I don’t know, something’s shady about this Eddie, I mean w– why would you quit being a pilot for this? A free ski pass? I don’t think so.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “CALSTAR is shift work dumbass. Like firefighters. He does like seven days a month or something like that.”
Realization dawned on Buck’s face as he made a silent oh of understanding when behind him, Bobby called everyone to attention for the morning debrief.
“Heyyy, Tommy’s here! Hey, Tommy!” Chim called, walking in coffee in hand, plopping himself down right next to Buck.
Buck looked at Chim wearing a betrayed look on his face, which the latter didn’t even seem to notice. “He was here when I started waaay back. Tommy’s the one who got me into tele actually.”
“Alright folks! It’s another bright and sunny day in California and we’ve got multiple events on the mountain today.” Bobby started. Next to him, Tommy stood, hands behind his back listening intently. “Alpine: there’s a slalom down Dance Floor, whole run is cut off from junction to junction for the racing team. Lakeview chairlift is open but the avvy risk is considerable today so we need to monitor the out-of-bounds and change the placard up at the boundary. Sherwood and Ward Peak are also open but once again, there is a risk today and there will be smartasses out there that we’ll need to rescue.” Everybody let out a chuckle, even Tommy, briefly flashing his pearly whites. “Alright, that’s it for Alpine. Tommy, wanna help me out for Palisades?”
Tommy stepped forward. “Thanks Bobby. Um, a lot of you know me already, I’ll be stepping in for Gerrard as Assisting Patrol Chief who I believe has gone on overdue retirement.” Somebody uttered a won’t be missed! which earned another chuckle from the crowd. “Here’s the rundown for Palisades: KT-22 and the Base2Base are still closed for repairs. The bowl up Exhibition is still open, though. There’s a competition up at Gold Coast Park, we’ll need a sled and at least 4 standbys over there for the whole day.”
As Tommy listed off the various needs for Palisades, Buck couldn’t help but stare, quietly stewing about this guy that everyone seemed to know but him. He was his new boss? Sure, he seemed better than the last guy, wasn’t too hard to beat, but still. Something rubbed Buck the wrong way, something in the set of his shoulders, or the cut of his teeth, or the cleft in his chin, Buck still couldn’t tell.
“–need park experience. Evan? I’m told you’re the one to talk to?” Tommy spoke, breaking Buck out of his bubble.
“Uhh, uh yeah park experience, what? What do you, uhh, n-need me for?” Buck stammered.
“I’m going up to oversee the competition in Gold Coast, I’d like a second patroller with park experience in case I have to leave with a patient.” Tommy said. He seemed… kind, soft-spoken. For a guy that huge, it felt sort of weirdly satisfying.
“Uh yeah, um. Eddie and Albert have done some park too if-if you need more of, uh, us.”
“Good idea, Evan. I’m posting you guys further down by the 45-footer.” Tommy said to Eddie and Albert. Buck looked at his best friend, slight panic in his eyes at being so close but so apart for their daily assignment, like a puppy with separation anxiety. Anxiety that had nothing to do with the fact that he was going to be riding his new boss’s side all day long. Of course not. Eddie just shrugged apologetically.
Oh well.
—
“Sorry about back there, singling you out like that. I hear you prefer ‘Buck’?” Tommy said, putting on his ski boots next to Buck.
“Oh uh, no. No, Evan is fine.”
“Okay then, Evan.” Tommy said with a soft smile. “You snowboard or ski?” Tommy asked.
“I-I do both.” Buck answered. The air felt charged somewhat. Tommy was being perfectly cordial but Buck couldn’t shake the feeling there was a layer under this.
“Huh. I tried snowboarding a couple of times but I was never any good. Guess I’m strictly a skier.”
A silence.
“I prefer skiing, I-I mean, I’m better at– I started with skiing. I, uh, I used to race.” Buck tried to supply.
“Yeah? So did I, although I guess it must’ve looked a little different back then.” Tommy answered back, still smiling softly.
The easy banter calmed Buck down somewhat. Tommy was nice, why was he so worked up over him before? The pipeline from attack dog to puppy was real, and though Buck would never admit it, he was an absolute golden retriever when it came to other people: bark first, and then never leave their side.
Which is how a day he at first dreaded became one of the nicest in a long while. While posted, Buck and Tommy chatted about racing, Buck’s stint doing freestyle, knee injuries and patrolling. All while commenting on the tricks the contestants were executing. When Tommy called out a cork 7 mute – “I’m no expert, I just watch RedBull TV a lot.” – Buck might’ve fallen a little bit in love.
At the end of the day, they all met up at the bar at the request of one Chim Han, who absolutely needed to know everything that was up with Tommy lately and coincidentally was also very thirsty. Hen also had about a million questions, which were halted when Denny came in, back from his day of training, shin pads and helmet still on. There was an urgent need for hot chocolate, it seemed.
“That’s your kid?” Tommy said, awestruck. “He was just a baby when I left.”
“Yup, that’s my little champ, giving his mamas a fright when he goes and hits all those gates.” Hen looked so fond.
“That’s incredible, you must be so proud.” Tommy beamed.
“We are.” Hen said with a dopey grin. “But what about you? Are you still seeing that girl? The one who didn’t ski and we’ve never met?”
“Uh, no, uhh. I’ve moved on. Not seeing anyone currently.” Tommy said, a small grin on his face. Buck could’ve sworn Tommy looked at him when he said it, a fraction of a second before taking a gulp of his beer. And it seemed like Hen caught it too, but if she did, she said nothing of it.
-x-
TBC pleeeeease ask me about my headcannons for this story I am a ski girlie I have a chairlift tattooed on my arm
