#no8

“Microsleeps,” Tommy repeats, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s when a person briefly falls asleep, like for a few seconds and then wakes up again,” Buck explains, putting his hands on his hip and frowning. “Which you just did. Again.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Tommy rubs his red eyes. Buck can see that his hand is trembling slightly and his worry rises. Another sign of sleep deprivation.

“You’re also having a tremor already,” he says, reaching for Tommy’s hand and squeezing it gently. “Come on. I’m going to drive you home.”

Tommy swallows, clearly not able to keep his eyes open longer than a few seconds, so he’s blinking rapidly. “But, Evan, you’re tired too.”

“Not nearly as tired as you are,” Buck says. “You definitely should be in bed right now. And at this point, it’s either going to be your own or a hospital bed.”

“No,” Tommy says, shivering. “No hospital bed.”

“Yeah,” Chimney says dryly, with an exaggerated pitiful expression on his face. “No one wants to be in a hospital bed, right? Go, Buck. Take your giant sooty teddy bear home. Thanks for being here, Tommy. Hope you liked the cake.”

Tommy yawns heartedly. “Always love cake.”

He moves like he’s sleepwalking, stumbling after Buck who leads him through the hallways and out to the parking lot.

It's obvious to Buck that Tommy’s mind functions on autopilot by now. He's doing everything slowly and mechanically, his eyes glassy and red-rimmed. When Buck opens the car door for him, Tommy sinks into the passenger’s seat and slumps, his eyes immediately fluttering close and his head tilting to the side.

By the time Buck starts the motor and moves out of the parking lot, Tommy is already asleep again, the side of his face leaning against the cool window pane, mouth slightly open and breaths ending in audible huffs. He’s cute like this. Buck has to smile whenever he manages to throw a glance at Tommy, but he’s also still worried. Because Tommy is not only tired. He was close to passing out.

The lights of the never-sleeping city cut through the night and burn Buck's eyes. Tommy was right. He's exhausted too, but he's also so, so happy. Chimney is going to be okay. His sister got married to the man she loves. Everyone was there to celebrate as best as they could. And Tommy … Tommy showed up even though he had a long and hard shift, even though he could have gone to bed and Buck would have understood if he had, but no. Tommy came to the hospital because he promised Buck to do his best and try to be there.

Warmth spreads in Buck’s chest and his heart flutters. He remembers the wave of surprised joy he felt when Tommy texted him to tell him he’d be at the hospital in a few seconds. Remembers the way his heart started to beat faster when he saw Tommy strutting through those doors with his face covered in soot and his hair a tousled mess. All Buck wanted at that moment was to kiss Tommy and never let him go. So he did that. And it was worth the soot he got all over himself in the process.

Buck chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Something about this, about their relationship, makes him feel so very young. And so very alive.

When he eventually stops the car in front of Tommy’s house, he feels bad about waking his boyfriend up, because by now, Tommy’s snoring softly and a string of drool is drying on his chin. But he can’t let Tommy sleep in the car either, so … He reaches out, gently shaking Tommy’s shoulder. “Hey. I'm sorry, but you have to wake up. We arrived."

Tommy flinches and groans. "No ... not yet," he mutters barely audible, scrunching his nose.

Buck suppresses a laugh. "You have to. Can't sleep in the car all night, come on. Let's get you into a proper bed."

Tommy groans some more but he does move when Buck takes his hand and leads him to his house. He pulls the keys out of the pocket of Tommy's jacket and gets them into the house.

When they reach the bedroom, Tommy just stands there, swaying lightly, soot-covered, his eyes drooping and his hands shaking with a fine tremor. He's a dead-tired giant of a man who also somehow happens to look too adorable to be real. Buck feels the urge to hug him. But getting Tommy in his bed is more important right now.

“Is it okay if I help you with your clothes?” Buck asks since Tommy still isn't moving.

Tommy seems to have trouble processing the question. But finally, he nods. “Yeah.”

“Sit,” Buck says, gently directing Tommy to sit on the edge of the bed and then taking off his boots one by one. After that, he peels Tommy out of his dirty turnouts and puts them on a chair nearby.

There’s still soot on Tommy’s skin but he will have to take a shower after a few hours of rest. Sleep is more important now. Tommy is still sitting upright, his eyes falling shut every few seconds, but he seems to be waiting for directions.

“You can lay down now,” Buck tells him and Tommy does so with a relieved sigh, going boneless when he can sink into the sheets and pillows. Buck pulls the blanket over him, running his fingers through Tommy’s dishevelled hair. “Good night. Thanks for showing up today. It means a lot,” he whispers.

“Hmmm. Always,” Tommy mumbles.

He seems to fall asleep after only a few seconds. Buck places a gentle kiss on Tommy’s forehead and carefully walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. A smile spreads on his face when he walks to the car.