close enough to touch, far enough to flee

I got tagged by @firehose118 today but I've been tagged so many times and have been awful about doing this because I've been jumping between stuff that's getting so long. But here's some werewolfJosh/humanSal wip that's all @trombonechurchill's fault:

Sal knocks the fuck out when he gets home, wakes up, goes grocery shopping, and knocks out again at a normal hour. When he wakes up, he has to go to work.

He staggers into the locker room and wrestles with the combination for a moment before he's able to shove his duffel inside.

“Welcome back,” Howie says, and Sal grunts. “Glad to hear it. Tell your boyfriend he needs to stop sending us on the annoying calls.”

“Pretty sure he doesn't control who gets sent where,” Sal mumbles, yanking his shirt off. “Otherwise he'd never send us on the dangerous ones.”

“Huh.” Howie crosses his arms over his chest and looks consideringly at the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess he wouldn't. That must suck for him.”

“It does,” Sal confirms, because he's had too many days where he’shad to smooth out the worried wrinkle between Josh's eyebrows.

“Unless he's into the big hero thing,” Howie adds.

“He's not,” Sal says flatly. “He likes that I can pick him up like a sack of flour, though.”

“That doesn't sound sexy.”

“It is the way I do it,” Sal says, winking.

“Hey, Tommy, if you got picked up like a sack of flour, would you be into that?” Howie asks, and Tommy freezes halfway across the room. “Oh wait, I did that once. Thoughts? Feelings?”

“None,” Tommy says, going to his locker and putting his back to them. Guy's got a shit poker face, but Howie might also be oblivious enough that he doesn't realize Tommy carried a torch for him for a long time. “Other than gratitude.”

“Well, you're no help. Hey, Hen!” Howie calls.

—

Sal drops in at dispatch with dinner for Josh. Their schedules suck right now. He's off today, but Josh is working. He's working tomorrow, Josh is off. They probably won't see each other until the day after that, because he's pretty sure Josh has two days off in a row.

“Aw, look at you bringing me—what is this?” Josh asks, peering into the bag.

“Meatballs from Gio’s, egg rolls and wonton soup from Golden Fortune, and carne asada tacos from that truck by my house,” Sal replies.

Josh kisses him, smiling. “You're so sweet. C'mon, I need help eating all of this.”

They post up in the break room, and Sal pulls out the burrito he ordered for himself and steals some of the soup. When Linda comes in, Sal blows her a kiss and grins at her surprised expression.

“You didn't tell me my boyfriend was coming to visit,” she teases, pouring herself some coffee. “How's your aunt?”

Sal looks over at Josh, who shrugs, and it makes him smile that Josh is apparently spreading the word about him at work. “She's good.”

They start chatting a bit, and Sal asks her if she's working the next day.

“Yep, as always,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You know, if I could just get one full moon off, I'd stop threatening to leave this place.”

Sal nudges Josh with a grin. “For the good of Los Angeles, take her shift.”

Linda snorts and starts heading toward the door. “Josh hasn't worked a single full moon since he started. I don't know what deal he cut with Sue, but I want in on it. Bye, handsome.”

Sal blinks and looks at his boyfriend. “How the hell’d you swing that?”

“She's crazy, I've totally worked full moons,” Josh says, scoffing. “They're awful, everyone gets so crazy.”

“Yeah,” Sal agrees before taking a bite of his burrito. “Wait, did you work the one last year with the clown on acid?”

Josh makes a face. “I…did not. That sounds horrifying, though.”

“Guy was out of his mind. He broke into someone's shed to hide from monsters and sliced himself on some hedge trimmers.” He shudders at the memory of the screaming, bleeding clown trying to grab Sal’s arms.

“What kind of monsters?” Josh asks, picking up a wonton with his chopsticks.

“Giant dogs. Pretty sure he saw a Pomeranian and lost it.” Sal shrugs and steals a meatball. “Actually, I don't know for sure that it was acid. He could've just made too many balloon animals and cracked.”

Josh lets out a laugh, but it sounds forced.

1. canonically female (no variation)

2. canonically the protagonist of her story (if it’s an ensemble cast you have to say you can legitimately see her as The main character)

3. your personal #1 favorite character in that story (ties are acceptable)

okay i know buck isn’t drinking anymore but like. just like tim i can ignore canon i don’t like.

——

josh thanked god and also the ghost of freddie mercury that eddie diaz had a stab wound. josh had been invited out with the lunatics at the 118 for a drink the day after the the hospital thing. the thing at the hospital where josh could have killed a bunch of people but notably did not. that thing.

he almost begged off, his tolerance for 118 insanity had been more than met for the year, but then maddie widened those big brown eyes and said, “please? buck wants you to come!”

which…if the cute boy who had been on and off flirting with him since they met (turned out, completely unintentionally) asked after him, who was he to say no. so he went and he was not ashamed that he’s grateful that eddie wasn’t.

especially when it meant he had buck’s undivided attention.

“you know, i really appreciate what you did for us in there,” buck said, cheeks flushed from a couple of mixed drinks. “you—you didn’t have to throw in but you did. it was really badass.”

josh wrinkled his nose and waved a hand in the air. “i’m just looking at blueprints and wikipedia articles.”

“no, don’t sell yourself short.” buck’s eyes were glassy and intense.

josh reached out and touched the back of buck’s hand, maintaining eye contact. josh hoped he’d been reading this right and knew he had been when buck dipped his head and tilted it, looking up through his lashes somehow. coy. ah, he was good. josh ran his finger tips over the ridges of buck’s knuckles.

“how about you thank me for it,” josh asked, bold after a couple of his own drinks. buck’s pupils blew open. he licked his lips.

“yeah,” he breathed. then josh was being kissed, right there in the booth they’d been sharing with the rest of the 118 before they went off in search of more to drink or to dance.

buck was a great kisser, even tipsy. forceful like an turner classic movies leading man but not demanding. josh let himself be led away by it, grasping his (huge, muscular) biceps. buck’s hand ended up planted over josh’s head, on the back of the booth.