#salbobby

21. Did I stutter? Do as your told.”

Picking up an older man at the bar and then getting fucked in the alley beside it tonight wasn't remotely in Sal's plans. He'd thought he was gonna get a couple drinks with the crew, flirt with Tommy in that weird semi platonic way they normally did and then go home and sleep before work. They were supposed to be getting a new probie and he was already dreading meeting whatever cocksure little punk the academy was sending them this time. Hen's still sporting the scars on her leg from where the last probie had freaked out and abandoned her mid emergency rescue.

The 118 were also supposed to be getting a new captain soon and Sal was still hopeful that Chief Simpson was gonna be giving the promotion to him. Even without all the proper schooling to make captain he was still the best possible in house option outside of Hen.

Instead of drinking with his friends he's bent over an old barrel in the alley out behind the bar with his pants around his ankles and the hottest guy in the place pressing up behind him. He can feel the heat of the guys, Bobby or was it Billy's, breath on the side of his face where he's murmuring all sorts of filthy things.

"Spit," Billy no wait it was Bobby says holding his fingers in front of Sal's mouth. "Be a good boy for me and spit." He refuses to acknowledge the noise he lets out at the command or how quickly he complies with the order.

"Such a good boy," Bobby whispers in Sal's ear sending another shiver down his spine as he quickly but efficiently starts prepping him. "Almost done gorgeous then I'll give you what you want."

"I'm ready," Sal grumbles as Bobby slows down as he talks to him then slows down even more as Sal's words process. "I'm ready. I can take whatever you can dish out."

"Nope," Bobby says popping the 'p' continuing with the slower pace.

"I like some pain with my pleasure and wanna be fucked sometime this century, Grandpa," Sal growls again shaking his hips trying to entice the older man. He wants to be fucked and at this point he no longer cares if he's being a brat.

"We either do this my way or you can go back in there and try to find someone else to go home with. Its your choice," Bobby answers before withdrawing his fingers and laying a solitary smack to Sal's ass making the other man keen. "Hold still."

Sal glances over his shoulder making eye contact with Bobby before shaking his ass again getting another smack for his troubles. "What was that for," he complains trying to act innocent suddenly and its obvious from the look on the other man's face he isn't falling for it. The innocent look always makes Tommy melt and he always gets what he wants when he uses it and the fact that Bobby doesn't seem phased throws him off his game.

"Did I stutter? Do as your told," Bobby orders leaving Sal feeling empty for a moment. "Give me just a second and I'll give you what you want." When he finally gives Sal what they both want he has bite his own arm to avoid doing something stupid neither of means.

**

Walking back into the bar 45 minutes later he tries to hide the fact he can feel a twinge in his hip and ass with every step he takes towards where Tommy is still sitting now with a pretty dirty blonde in Sal's abandoned seat. Seeing them he heads to the bar ordering a shot and then he walks out the door already lost in thought about work and the new changes coming his way.

He can feel the piece of scrap paper with Bobby Nash's number burning a hole in his pocket and he sighs.

**

He's stunned into silence when he and Tommy clear the loft stairs and he finds a familiar face sitting at the head of the table. There's a younger looking guy sitting next to him and he can feel Tommy freeze beside him.

"I'm Captain Bobby Nash and this is probationary firefighter Evan Buckley," Bobby says standing to introduce himself and Buckley when it’s obvious he’s not going to. Sal sees a quick flash of recognition in his eyes before its hidden.

Sal doesn’t know what to think or feel at the moment so instead he introduces himself still staring at the man who’d shifted things in his world without realizing it.

AO3

Chapter 4

The fourth installment of the Salevan Daddy Kink story featuring even more smut with some world building.

My Heart Will Go On

An angst fueled coda to 8.15. This story is Athena centric, focusing on her grief as well as the rest of the Grant family as they prepare for Bobby's funeral.

Kept

The Bucktommy baby trapping omegaverse fic that I had been teasing prior to being sent to tumblr jail.

The Captain's Daughter

The newest story in my Love Like A Country Song Series. It is a Mayravi fic inspired by The Farmer's Daughter by Rodney Atkins.

Blanket Forts

Sal is very pregnant, very over it, and having a very bad day. He comes home to his husband Howie who makes it all better.

LAFD Issued Shirts

Bobby finds Sal in the kitchen making breakfast while wearing Bobby's shirt.

Your Head In My Lap

Tommy has a migraine and Evan takes care of him.

Cross Necklaces

Tommy helps Sal get ready for his god daughters confirmation.

The Grant-Panikkar Wedding Night

Or they hadn't until Sal and Tommy had joined the 118 at the bar celebrating Hen's birthday over strong drinks and games of pool. Bobby maintains Sal had started it. He doesn't remember what the fight was about, but he remembers Sal had started it. The two men were squared up next to the pool table ready to tear each others throats off. Bobby remembers Henry, the very sweet paralegal Tommy had been dating at the time, nervously asking Tommy if someone should do something to separate Sal and Bobby.

Bobby doesn't remember Tommy's rolled eyes, just him offhandedly saying to let the two men fight it out, that Sal would calm down after being smoked out. Sal remembers Chimney's annoyance yelling at the pair to go outside and kill each other so the rest of them didn't get kicked out of the bar. They did take it outside, only they hadn't killed each other.

Bobby was certain that when Wendell suggested he start dating again he hadn't meant hate fucking his former team member. He's certainly that is something Wendell would classify as self destructive behavior. But it hadn't felt self destructive, it felt healing. It didn't take long for it to stop being hate fucking and become Bobby's life line.

Now they have been married going on five years and Bobby hasn't woken up alone in five years, when one or both of them being on shift as the sole exception to the rule. Bobby doesn't wake up alone because Sal is anything but a morning person. Sal would rather clean the grossest of latrines on his hands and knees with nothing but a tooth brush and a cup of water than pry himself out of bed before ten on their shared days off.

Bobby is the early riser, enjoying the calm of a hot cup of coffee while watching the run rise on the back patio while reading the morning news.

Almost as rare as Sal waking up before Bobby is him in the kitchen cooking a massive breakfast. Sal thinks a massive to go mug of coffee and a almost burnt bagel with far to much cream cheese is a good breakfast. Bobby is the one who enjoys a large perfectly balanced breakfast.

But there Sal is standing in the center of their large kitchen cooking breakfast while singing an old Italian song, softly but very off key. Sal is wearing one of the many LAFD issued t-shirts that fill their drawers and a pair of soft gray sweat pants. Bobby doesn't know what the words Sal is singing mean, and hes a notoriously awful singer, but he is frying bacon, there is a fritata resting on the counter, next to a box of pastries from Sal's favorite little Italian Bakery. Sal has even set up their rarely used espresso machine.

"What's all this?" Bobby asked wrapping himself around his husband nuzzling him. He smells like fresh baked bread, the sweat from whatever early morning workout Sal had done, and something else familiar that Bobby can't put his finger on at the moment.

"Did you forget what today is?" Sal asked teasing him as the shorter man removed the bacon from the pan setting it on a paper towel lined plate.

"Uhhhhh…" Bobby doesn't know what day it is. Sal's birthday was a couple months ago, and their anniversary isn't for another couple months. He doesn't think it is a holiday or any other anniversaries. When Bobby doesn't answer making it obvious he doesn't know what is so special about this morning Sal rolls his eyes.

Sal has this way of rolling his eyes that is louder than any words he could say. This eye roll is loud enough Bobby thinks they could be heard across the world. It isn't mean, nor is it intended to be. It's filled with love and humor and fond exasperation.

"Happy birthday Tesoro Mio." Bobby groans, blushing, hiding his face in the side of Sal's. He can't believe he forgot his birthday. It is the only thing besides their wedding anniversary, or sex, that could convince Sal to get up before ten on their shared days off. "Don't be embarrassed, you're getting old, but don't worry, I love you anyway."

"I'll show you old." Bobby grumbled against the side of Sal's face making his husband laugh, patting his hand.

"Come on birthday boy, let's eat, before our breakfast gets cold. I made picked up corvette, and made us cappuccinos. I even made a fratata and bacon."

"Not yet." Bobby rumbled tightening his hold on Sal. Sal might be shorter than Bobby, most people are, but he is stockier. If Sal really wanted to, he could easily break Bobby's hold on him. Instead he relaxes back into Bobby's hug, tilting his head backwards for a good morning kiss.

"Surprised you're wearing a work shirt this morning." Bobby said as soon as their slow, chaste, morning kisses came to an end. This time Sal's rolled eyes were pure frustration as he broke Bobby's hold on him.

Bobby blames his slowness on waking up alone. It's not until Sal is setting their breakfast out on the table, and begins plating it Bobby realizes the LAFD issued shirt is loose on Sal's shoulders and longer than usual, the familiar scent on Sal was Bobby's cologne. Sal was wearing Bobby's shirt.

"You're wearing my shirt." He whispered backing Sal up against the table. Sal made a soft humming sound of approval, wrapping his arms around Bobby's middle leaning in for another hug.

"I missed you last night." Sal admits softly in a rare moment of vulnerability that only Bobby gets to see.