Tbh I haven't written anything as of late buuuuuuut I've been thinking about that Salbuck baking phase fic from a million years ago and here's a snippet of the part 2 that i hope i get the spoons for one of these days. Apologies if some of this is a repeat!
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"You're so bossy, y'know that?" Buck teases him, letting Sal set down the ingredients next to the spread Buck had already set out. "It ain't bossy if you're the boss." Sal sasses back, bumping their hips together.
They set to work with pleasant chatter. How his day was (god so slow, nothing but paperwork), how Buck's was (Jee is requesting dinosaur information at a faster speed than even Buck's wikipedia rabbit holes can supply) and the reaction to the last picture each of them sent (positive, extremely positive.)
After the ingredients for the dough are combined, Buck moves to put the concoction in the stand mixer. "Nuh-uh" Sal's plops the ball back onto the counter. "More of a 'hands dirty' kinda guy."Â
Buck relents, hoisting himself up and watching Sal get to work kneading it thoroughly.Â
He watches the heel of Sal's hands sink in deep. Over and over, an almost hypnotizing rhythm that has him jealous of a pre-baked good.Â
"This is such an obvious move." Buck murmurs.
"Works on you though, doesn't it."Â
Sal hands him the big bowl before he can answer. "Here, grease that up for me will ya? I'm not immune either."
"S'that so?" Buck leans into it, drizzling the oil onto two fingers, taking no pains to hide the innuendo. He starts halfway down the metal surface. Circling, spreading, until he can see Sal start to side-eye him. "I created a monster didn't I?"
"Maybe." Buck wipes off the excess on a paper towel before popping his fingers in his mouth just to be a brat. Sal's eyes linger on his lips and he drops the dough in the bowl and roughly swipes a bit of plastic wrap to cover it with.Â
"What's next?" Buck tilts his head.Â
"It rises." Sal goes to wash his hands, slowly, like he's preparing something other than the doughnuts.Â
Buck hops off the counter as Sal finishes, heart hammering when Sal grabs him by the hips.Â
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Yes, i am alive, yes i know its been three months, yes, it will probably will be three months again. So to everybody still here...I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH THANK YOU BYEEE
Introducing Sal's day to day life and a new bombshell is entering the vill....greyhaven!
Excerp:
"Ravi called me." Lucy smiled.
Of course he did; Ravis's grandparents also lived in Greyhaven, and he and Lucy became good friends over the span of their shared summers here.
"Did he, now?"
fuck
"Told me you need someone for the crew this season."
"He shouldn't have called you."
"You could have called me yourself."
"You know I can't have you on my ship."
'Don't you think it's time to leave it behind, Sally? It's been so long."
No
The answer would always be no, and Lucy must have realised what she just said because she sighed, head down. "I am sorry; I shouldn't have said that."
Sall leant back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean it that way."
She nodded thankfully. "But for real, Sal, you can't do crab season with only 4 people."
"I know that."
"You don't sound like it." Lucy stated and raised her eyebrows.
AU: Sal and Tommy are 35, married, and have been at the 118 (with Hen and Chim) for eight years. Buck is 26 in Peru. Sal and Tommy are on vacation to celebrate each of them transferring (122, lieutentant position with intent to become Captain very soon and 217, pilot). Whirlwind romance that ends up with Buck following them back to LA and being married right before Buck's probie year.
mooorrrre under the cut :)) again just straight up stream of conciousness hope ya like it :)
Buck is constantly talking about his partner but never mentions being married and never mentions there being two of them.
Bobby is out for some reason, nothing major but their temporary Captain is a complete idiot, making every wrong call and unfortunately Buck gets the short end of the stick.
He's being wheeled on a gurney with a pipe sticking out of his leg. Hen and Chimney are on either side of him trying to get him into the ambulance when their Captain comes over and starts berating Buck for "not paying attention," "doing this to himself," and "making the Captain look bad." It's all bullshit and everyone knows it, but Buck had started to be in a weird headspace right before the call, only intensifying as the call went on.
He was generally very good at keeping a hold on his emotions, but the pain, anxiety, and headspace is a godawful combination and he can feel his breath getting faster and tears filling his eyes.
There's an onlooker recording the Captain yelling at a clearly injured and emotionally distressed firefighter. They post it to Twitter and tag it LAFire118, a tag Sal has saved (as well as LAAir217 & LAFire217).
He sees the video and sees red. Him and Tommy call Hen and ask what hospital. She's confused, because as far as she knows, they have no idea who Buck is. She tells them anyway, past and present 118 support she guesses.
Buck is already heading back to surgery when Sal and Tommy storm in.
"Where the hell is that rat bastard?"
"Woah, Deluca, calm the hell down."
"Don't tell me to calm down, Hen. Where's the Stronzo who berated my fucking husband while he's bleeding out through a goddamn rusted pipe?"
"Wait-"
"Hen."
"He's back at the scene or headed back to the station. The fire was almost out when we left."
Sal turned to Tommy. "Stay here." Sal gave him a quick pat to the cheek and a squeeze on his bicep.
Sal was gonna make that sad excuse for a Captain pay. He quickly sent a text to his friend in the Union before speeding off to the 118.
Based on the season 2 episode Dosed. Read Verse from the beginning here
Athena Grant meets t Sal at the doors of the hospital, her face as stern as ever.
“What the hell happened?” He demands. The only information he had gotten on the phone was that his boyfriend had pulled off duty and he needed to pick him up here. She quirks an eyebrow at his tone, but leads him inside, past the nurse's station to a hallway of consultation rooms, giving him a basic rundown of the day's events.
“Best we can figure, someone added an extra special ingredient to a plate of brownies they dropped off at the station this morning. Everyone but Chimney had at least one before they got sent on a call. They were high as kites by the time they got there.” She opens the door to a room and they walk inside. Buck is sitting at the table, fixated on a modern art piece in front of him. It's one of those big, ugly ones that looks like someone gave a preschooler free reign of the room, but Buck's staring at it like it's a masterpiece.
“The colors are moving,” He says, elbowing Eddie Diaz, who has his eyes closed, cheek pressed against the table. “Look, Eds. They're swirling around. Like a Harry Potter picture or something.”
Diaz moans, closing his eyes tighter. Sal briefly wonders if the guy had ever been high in his life, and seriously doubts it. He looks miserable and half sick. Buck, on the other hand, is practically vibrating.
“Karen already picked Hen up,” Athena tells him, frowning at the two of them. “Chimney is going to stay with Eddie until his aunt gets here. I'm going to check on Bobby. You got him?”
“Yeah.” Buck looks up at the sound of Sal's voice, a wide grin splitting his face. He's up and across the room with a few strides of his long legs, burrowing into Sal's arms, nose pressed against his neck. “I can handle him.”
“Try to make sure he drinks plenty of water.” She seems amused, watching Buck push himself against his boyfriend like they could merge together into one being. She gives Sal a wry nod and moves to another room down the hall where Sal assumes Bobby is recovering.
Sal nudges Buck back to get a good look at his face. His eyes are a little glazed over, but he still has that big, dopey grin on his face. Sal brushes his fingers over his cheek.
“How ya feeling, gorgeous?”
“So good, Sal,” He murmurs, leaning into his touch, eyes slipping closed. “Really good.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Sal snorts, lightly. He sees Chimney coming down the hall with water and a sandwich. “Come on. I'm taking you home.”
He loops his arm around Buck's waist and leads him back to the truck. When he climbs into the driver's side Buck slides across the seat to press against him, breathing him in again.
“You smell so good. Like sex.” Sal catches his hand as it slides up his thigh and presses a kiss to his palm before settling it between them on the seat. Buck pouts a little.
“Home,” Sal reminds him, cranking the truck and pulling out of the parking lot. “You've already been arrested today for public intoxication, you wanna add indecent exposure?”
“Maybe,” Buck teased, but he allows Sal to keep holding his hand down on the seat while he looks out the window, squinting a little at the glare of the sun bouncing off all of the windows of the city.
“There are so many colors,” He says with amazement. He looks at Sal again. “Can you feel them?”
“Can you?”
“Yeah. Kinda.” He lifts their hands and kisses Sal's knuckles. “When you touch me, it feels yellow. But not like a weird, gross yellow, y'know? More like how sunshine is yellow. And earlier, before you got there, it felt pink, like bubble gum or-or a sunset. It was nice, but I knew it wasn't gonna last long.”
Buck tilts his head, contemplating. He's distractingly cute, his brow furrowed as he digs through his mind for whatever he's looking for.
“I don't think there were colors before you. I can't remember them.”
“You're stoned out of your mind,” Sal says, ignoring the swell of emotions in his chest - the bubble of sadness and anger for the life Buck had led before he made his way to LA, all those things he still doesn't like to talk about, the strange feeling of pride that he's the one that makes Buck feel that way. He squeezes Buck's hand and listens to him prattle on about the colors until they get home.
“Alright, Rainbow Brite. Let's get you inside.” Buck tilts his head at the reference but gets out of the truck and follows Sal up the walk to the house. The moment the door is shut, Buck is plastered to his back, nuzzling and biting at his neck, grabbing and squeezing at every part of Sal's torso and chest like he can't decide which is most deserving of his attention.
“Down boy,” Sal warns, swatting at his wandering hands. He can feel Buck's pout against the back of his neck and he blows out a sigh of exasperated affection. He turns to press a brief kiss to his mouth and tugs him gently to the living room to sit him on the couch.
“Stay put,” He instructs. Buck makes a face at him, but nods, then tilts his chin up. Sal rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss him again. “Brat. I'll be right back. Don't move.”
Sal goes into the kitchen and grabs Buck's water bottle, then starts putting together a simple snack plate, glancing into the living room occasionally to make sure Buck doesn't wander off while he's busy. He's not really worried about Buck causing any trouble if he decides a stroll around the neighborhood is a good idea while he's tripping, but he doesn't think the old couple down the block that already looks at them a little sideways would feel the same way. To his credit, Buck stays where Sal left him, fiddling with the screen of his watch, doing who knows what kind of havoc to his settings. He looks up with a big smile stretched across his face when Sal comes back into the room, reaching out eagerly.
“I got you some stuff,” Sal murmurs. He sets the plate on the coffee table and holds out the bottle. “Drink.”
Buck looks at the bottle being held out to him for a moment, then bats it away. He slips his fingers into Sal's belt loops and tugs him closer, pressing his face against his lower stomach.
“Don't want it,” He mumbles into Sal's shirt. “Want you.”
“Baby,” Sal sighed, running his fingers through Buck's hair. He knew exactly what he wanted. Buck was a horn dog sober and nearly insatiable after a couple of edibles. Whatever he had in his system now would probably be the death of them if Sal were to give into him. But Buck's eyes are still glazed over with the effects of some drug he'd ingested unwittingly. They've had high sex before, but all those times were planned, talked about, Buck was perfectly aware of what was going into his system and had given his full, enthusiastic consent to the sex beforehand.
“Drink your water, Buckley,” Sal says sternly, stepping back out of his grasp. Buck looks up at him pitifully.
“Don't you want me?” He's flashing those big blue eyes in the way he knows always gets him what he wants. Sal huffs and leans in to kiss him lightly.
“You know I always do, but not when you've been drugged by a stranger.” He presses a biting kiss to the sensitive area under his ear. “But if you behave yourself, I'll give to you so good when this shit's out of your system you won't be able to sit for a week without thinking of me.”
Buck whines softly, arching his body to try to make contact with Sal’s wherever he can reach. Sal steps back again and points at the water bottle.
“Drink. Eat. Don't make me force feed you.” Buck snorts a laugh, but reaches for the bottle and unscrews the cap.
The first sip seems to make Buck realize how thirsty he really is. He takes several long, deep swallows before pulling the bottle away and wiping a hand across the back of his mouth. He leans forward and snatches up a handful of the grapes Sal had piled onto the plate and pops a few into his mouth.
“Happy?” He asks, a line of juice trailing down his chin. Sal rolls his eyes.
“Fucking pain in the ass,” He mutters. Buck smirks and leans back into the couch cushions, chewing happily and reaching for the TV remote.
Sal leaves him to veg out, checking in every little while, switching out his empty water bottle for a full one. He goes about the chores he had been in the middle of when he got the call to pick Buck up, cleaning out the fridge and cleaning the dishes, changing the bedsheets, sorting out the laundry in the basket Buck likes to ignore for as long as he possibly can. When that's done, he pulls out his phone, opting to have their groceries delivered this week rather than going to the store. Buck is deeply engrossed in a Quantum Leap marathon so Sal heads to his office to work on the paperwork he had brought home from the end of his last shift. He's looking over a couple of vacation request forms when there's a soft knock on the office door. Buck leans in the doorframe, arms hugged around his chest, watching Sal with a sweet grin spread across his face.
“Hey. How ya feeling?” Sal asks, setting the papers aside. Buck shrugs.
“Still kinda floaty. Will you come lay down with me a while?” Sal nods.
“Of course. I just gotta sign these and I'll be right there.”
When Sal walks into the bedroom, Buck has pulled on a pair of joggers and one of Sal's old Phillies sweatshirts, despite the heat of the sun coming through the window.
“You cold?”
“A little. Come warm me up.” Sal raises an eyebrow and Buck responds by rolling his eyes and making grabby hands at him. “We'll keep it PG-13, just get over here.”
Sal lingers by the foot of the bed for another teasing moment before he finally gives in and walks over to his side to strip down to his underwear, knowing from nearly three years of sharing with him that Buck radiated heat from every part of his body except his feet. When he pulls his shirt over his head, Buck hums appreciatively and slides closer to get his hands on him.
“God, you're beautiful,” He breathes, sliding his hand from Sal's stomach up his chest. “I don't tell you that enough.”
“That's the drugs talking,” Sal responds, teasing, letting Buck continue to feel him up for a moment.
“Maybe. But I'm always thinking it.”
The words send a flutter of affection through Sal's stomach. He doesn't need praise in the same way Buck does, he doesn't preen and thrive under it. But the way Buck is looking up at him now, big eyes earnest and full of devotion, has a flush crawling up his neck like he's a damn fourteen year old girl.
“Get outta my spot,” He says gruffly, shoving Buck gently to the side to climb into bed. Buck snuggles up to side immediately, sighing contentedly against his collarbone. Sal runs his fingers through his hair, loosening the gel holding it back, then trails them lightly up and down and spine.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Buck murmurs. Sal can't help the laugh that escapes him.
“Well, somebody has to. I leave you alone for five minutes and you take drugs from strangers."
All he gets is an incomprehensible mumble before Buck is snoring softly in his arms
~*~
Buck wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and his mouth feeling like a small furry creature crawled inside it and died. He drags himself out of the warm cocoon of blankets he'd wrapped himself in and brushes his teeth twice before padding down the hall to find Sal in the kitchen cooking breakfast.
“Hey, Lake Shore Drive!” Buck flips him off and ignores his snickering laugh as he goes to the coffee maker. Sal steps up behind him and kisses the hinge of his jaw. “How you doing?”
“I feel a little weird, but I think it's all worn off.” Buck sinks into a kitchen chair and takes a long drink from his mug. “I can't believe someone dosed the whole station. Who does that? We could have killed somebody.”
“It's wild shit,” Sal agrees, putting a plate piled with french toast in front of him. “Luckily Athena found you before anyone did something that would make the news.”
“Oh, fuck.” Buck drops his head into his hands. “Taylor Kelly.”
“Who?”
“The reporter we helped out of the helicopter crash the other day. She had a camera man at the station doing a story. Who knows what they recorded.”
“Reporter?” Sal frowns for a moment, then recognition flashes in his eyes and he gives Buck a teasing smile. “Ah, your radio crush. Howie and Hen were telling me about the sparks between you two the other day.”
“Shut up,” Buck mutters, throwing a piece of bacon at him. “This is serious.”
“Relax, baby. Even if she got something bad, I doubt any network around here would let her run a smear piece about LAFD.” He gets up from the table with the excuse of getting more coffee but pauses as he rounds the counter. “But you could always call her up, use that Buckley charm to convince her to be nice. You can be very persuasive when you–”
“You're the worst,” Buck mutters. Sal laughs at his little pout. Buck pushes away from the table and stalks toward him for a kiss. “I need a shower. You wanna join me now that I'm not blitz anymore.”
“I did make you some promises yesterday. You want to call your girlfriend and see if she wants to join in?”
Buck pushes away from him with a huff.
“I hate you.”
Sal smacks his ass just hard enough to earn a little yelp and a look over his shoulder as Buck walks away. The hunger in his eyes and teasing sway of his hips has Sal thinking of making it hard for Buck to sit down again in a multitude of ways.
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5 (or more) facts from an AU where...a recently divorced Sal is in Colorado for a ski trip (to try to get out of the funk he was in in LA). When he goes to leave, a sudden snow squall causes him to skid into a snow bank...in front of ski patroller Buck's house.
Another Birthday treat for my good friend Chemmy! If this doesn't make sense, shhhhhh, yes it does.
1) Sal moved to LA because of his now ex-wife. He loves the life he built there, even if it's not quit what he envisioned when he moved, but god does he miss experiencing all four seasons. He hasn't seen snow in three years, and his ex always insisted on using vacation time to tour the wineries to go to some sunny all inclusive. He'd always been taught happy wife, happy life, but fuck if that hadn't backfired on him. He'd bent over backwards to make her happy, and she'd bent over backwards for her fucking pilates instructor... but that's besides the point. The divorce his supposed to be giving him a new lease on life. And what better way to get started then to go some where with honest to god snow over Christmas.
2) He books the ski trip in Colorado. Vail seems like it would be a good challenge. He books the trip solo, in part to reconnect with himself, in part because the people he knows have no desire to be cold. The trip is good. It's the first time he's actually been by himself since... probably ever. It forces him to think. A lot. Makes him realize he maybe doesn't like the person he's become since moving to LA. He promises himself he's going to be a better person when he moves to LA.
3) He's driving the rental car down the mountain back to the airport when the conditions turn dicey. He might be from New York, but he hasn't been to his home state in years, and it's true what they say about using something or else you lose it. He completely forgets how to drive in the snow; the near white out conditions have him white knuckling the steering wheel, and eventually he hits a patch of ice on the winding road and loses control of the car. His life flashes before his eyes, and he throws up a prayer to whatever god might listen.
4) Sal's not sure if he passes out behind the wheel with collision, but the next thing he's aware of is the driver's side door being ripped open open and the sun silhouetting his rescuer. It's a bear of a man, bundled up in winter gear, and insignia marking him as a mountain patrol. "I'm Buck," the bear of a man tells him. "We got reports of some guests trying to leave when the storm front came in. Glad I found you in one piece when I did. The roads are all but impassable now, and it's going to get mighty cold tonight."
5) Buck takes him to one of the cabins they've got scattering the hill. It doesn't have power, but it's got a bed, woodburning stove, and enough supplies to keep them going for a couple of days while they wait for the storm front to pass. Buck radios in to their command center to confirm he's got - "Hey! I didn't catch your name." "Sal Deluca" "I've got Sal Deluca safe an accounted for. We're uninjured and will be waiting out the storm in Cabin 5." Command copies loud and clear, and Buck gets the stove going, warming up the cabin, and they're able to shed their winter gear. Turns out Buck is growing a grizzly Adams beard under his many layers. Sal's a little jealous. "We can't have facial hair on the job. Firefighter - stops the mask from making a proper seal." "Extra insulation for me," Buck jokes.
6) Turns out Buck is able to reheat a mean can of Chef Boyardee ravioli, and they snack on that, dried fruit and a pot of the strongest tea Sal has ever had the displeasure of consuming. Sal opens up about why he was in Colorado, and Buck talks about his travels across the country. "I think my goal at this point is to try to get a job in every state." "What would you do in Alaska?" "Crab Fishing," Buck jokes.
7) They have a finite supply of chopped wood, and command radios in that they're going to be one of the last sites picked up since no one is injured. "If you don't mind sharing the bed we can let the fire die down a bit overnight and save ourselves from having to chop more wood. It's awful when you work up a sweat in this cold." Sal doesn't even have to consider it, getting close and personal with Buck under the covers will not be a hardship. Sal says as much to Buck, and Buck's eyes light up. "Oh yeah?"
8) They make their own heat under the covers that night.
9) And again in the morning.
10) Sal's a little disappointed, when they get the radio message that park services will be out to collect them that evening once the roads are cleared. Sal's rental car has been pulled from the snowbank, and they have a ride for him to the airport. Turns out his flight was cancelled, so he's able to rebook for the next flight home. He's pleased when Buck suggests exchanging numbers, but he doesn't really expect anything to come from it. He's surprised when Buck keeps up easy conversation through texts, phone calls, and video chats. It's amazing, but it makes Sal miss the chemistry they had in person even more. He starts planning on booking a trip back to Colorado - Buck hasn't mentioned anything about moving on. He's surprised, then, when he gets a video call from Buck, and the background of the call is the very familiar site of Muscle Beach.
"Buck, what are you doing here?"
"Someone really talked up the local. I've never worked in California before. Figured I'd see what all the fuss was about."
