Work Text:
The conversation, such as it is, has being going on for so long that Chimney falls asleep for forty minutes and wakes up right where he’d dipped out.
Buck envies him the excuse that allows him to drop out of the circular discussion with his parents, not quite wishing encephalitis on himself but also not far away from doing so. Things with Mom and Dad—they’ve never been easy. Easier in recent years since Buck had to come to accept that he was never going to get the validation, the love, he wants from them, moving to meet them where they are instead of where he wants them to be.
(Where they should be, a voice in Eddie’s frustrated tone whispers in his mind.)
But as Mom breathes in to rally her distressed anger one more time, Buck wishes that, just once, they could meet him where he is.
And he realises that maybe he hasn’t quite reached the stage of acceptance he thought he had.
“I just don’t understand why you had to make such a big show of it,” Mom continues in the same vein as she has been since Buck walked into the room an hour earlier to pick up Jee-Yun for her night of fun with Uncle Buck. “Honestly, Evan, it was incredibly disrespectful.”
“Mom, I’ve told you, I don’t care,” Maddie stresses, picking at a stray thread on Jee’s jeans.
She’s exhausted from the stress of her husband going missing and nearly dying to not sleeping the night before because hospitals are never comfortable no matter what and then having to deal with the fallout of the day before. Buck wishes he could have done more to make it easier for her but with Chimney already scheduled to be out for a week after his wedding and Johnson out with a knee injury from getting off the truck wrong and Wendall close to giving birth, they’re all hands on deck at the moment and Buck couldn’t be spared to help his sister navigate a confusing wedding aftermath.
Bitter resentment slicks up his throat at Mom and Dad doing this while Maddie’s obviously exhausted and Chimney’s lying in his hospital bed hooked up. They could’ve cornered him privately but instead they chose to make a scene—both typical and hypocritical all at once.
It seems they don’t mind coming into hospitals when it’s to tell Buck he’s a disappointment to them all over again.
“You knew I was bringing a date to the wedding,” Buck says, speaking for the first time since Dad told him to stop interrupting his mother thirty minutes earlier. “You knew I was bringing Tommy to the wedding.”
“Tommy,” Chimney smiles, dopey and drugged. “He’s so cool.”
Dad coughs and looks away. It’s a sign of how accepting they are of Chimney that they’re even having this conversation in front of him, choosing to come here to have it instead of at Buck’s apartment. Buck understands that no one he ever brings to meet them will get this sort of acceptance, they’ll be treated mildly better than Doug and that’s that.
God knows how they’ll behave with Tommy. All of it makes him want to keep him as far away as possibly from the splintered family that is the Buckleys.
“You should’ve understood that it was no longer appropriate,” Margaret argues. Buck imagines her sitting around the bridge table with her friends, mouth pursed as they exchange scandalous gossip, her palms sweaty with the fear that someone will know her son likes dick. “Honestly, Evan—”
“Buck,” he, Maddie, and Chim correct in unexpected unison.
Jee-Yun yawns and blinks at him. “Buck.”
The red flush he recognises from childhood spreads across the apples of Mom’s cheeks, too strong for her powdery make up to conceal. It’s embarrassment and more than a large helping of anger. He used to see it a lot on the occasions he was dragged out with his parents, often stuffed into a suit with shoes that never seemed to fit right, shoved into a pew at church. He never knew what he did that made her look like that, each new offence just as confusing and unimportant as the last. Now he wonders if her anger simply stems from her embarrassment, like she’s furious she’s been made to feel even a brush of shame.
“And we weren’t the only one taken by surprise,” Mom rallies. “Did you even tell your friends that you’ve chosen to date a man?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Chimney says, confused.
Maddie pats her husband’s arm. “Buck only told you because he was worried you’d react badly at the wedding if he didn’t give you a head’s up. He’s not obligated to come out to everyone just because he’s dating a man. Besides, no one on his team cares. Hen’s married to a woman, for Christ’s sake.”
“Don’t blaspheme,” Dad warns.
Chimney twitches, creases around his eyes deepening. “I’d prefer it if you don’t talk to my wife like that, Phillip. She’s not a child.”
Buck—okay, Buck’s loved Chimney for years. He loved him long before Maddie came back into his life. They’re brothers and they would have been brothers even without him and Maddie falling in love. But watching Chimney stand up for Maddie, having a first hand seat every single day to have completely and wonderfully with Maddie he is?
He can’t help but love Chimney just a little bit more.
“This is just like you, you always have to make it about yourself,” Mom complains. “And look at what you’re wearing today. It’s like you want to draw attention to yourself.”
His fingers pull the long sleeves of Tommy’s hoodie over his knuckles. It’s more than a little big on him, baggy in the shoulders and long at the arms, a reminder that Tommy’s broader, taller, and thicker than he is. It also smells like him, a glorious scent that’s still new enough to set his stomach fluttering. He’s never been in a relationship where he’s been able to steal his partner’s clothes before and when Tommy handed him the hoodie that morning, Buck had been excited at the realisation he could wear his clothes and carry Tommy about with him during the day.
Eddie teased him just that morning for it. Hen wolf-whistling when he walked into the station in the Harbor hoodie. Even Bobby smiled, warm and happy, like Buck’s happiness makes him happy.
But now he feels like a child playing dress up. Self-consciousness pricks at his skin and he dips his forehead lower so he doesn’t have to to look at Mom.
“There’s nothing wrong with what he’s wearing,” Maddie argues. “It’s just a hoodie, Mom.”
“It’s flaunting his choices in our faces.”
Chimney strokes a hand over Jee’s hair, expression flinty. “I know my memory’s all over the place but were you homophobic before?”
“Howard!” Dad’s tone is sharp in his surprise. “That’s uncalled for.”
“Is it?” He’s fighting his way through the haze of drugs to be present. “Buck’s an adult and Tommy’s a great guy who is a significant improvement on some of the people he’s dated in the past.” Maddie snorts, low and amused, and Buck’s mouth twitches in a smile. “And it’s not a choice. No one chooses to be attracted to the same sex, just like no one chooses to be straight.”
“Howie’s right,” Maddie says, rallying with her husband’s support. “It’s really unfair of you to come here and criticise him like this. He’s done nothing wrong. Not a thing. And I don’t want you making him feel like he has. Not when he’s so happy.”
“Maddie, you have to stop babying him,” Mom chastises. “He’s never going to learn how to behave properly while you do.”
Chimney stares. “He’s thirty-two.”
“Old enough to know how inappropriate his behaviour was,” Dad says, and it’s like Buck isn’t there at all, everyone talking over him. He offers his finger to Jee-Yun and she curls her tiny palm around it. “You might have exercised some decorum and washed your face.”
Eddie and Christopher had eventually dragged him away from the cake and laughter as Tommy was folded easily back into the 118. Both of them were laughing hard as Buck knelt in front of Christopher to let him clean his face, the sort of teasing that only people who really love each other are able to get away with. And he sinks into the memory of Christopher’s warm weight leaning into him, his I like Tommy whispered like a secret into his ear, and Eddie’s hand strong and familiar on the back of his neck. Family, his family, still his and not changing just because he’s dating a man.
The sort of acceptance he’s spent his life longing for from Mom and Dad, given without a second’s thought.
“No one else cared,” Buck says. “Don’t know why you care.”
“Because you only ever think about yourself,” Mom snaps. “You always have. It always has to be about you. You couldn’t let your sister have her moment, could you? You had to—”
“That’s enough.” Chimney sounds calm but there’s a vein of anger in his voice. “I think that you should both leave for now. There’s no need to have this conversation and Buck needs to take Jee-Yun home so she can have her routine before it’s too late.”
“You can’t—”
“Howie’s right,” Maddie interrupts Mom. “It’s already getting late and Buck doesn’t like driving in the dark.”
That’s a lie, Buck doesn’t mind, but he’ll take any excuse to get out.
To his surprise Mom and Dad don’t argue. Maybe it’s something to do with Chimney being the one to end the conversation, not sure how to manage him yet. Buck’s not going to be the one to tell them that where Maddie’s concerned, they won’t be able to do anything to make him toe the Buckley family line.
“Be good, baby girl,” Chimney murmurs into the top of Jee’s hair, kissing her and giving her a squeeze. “Don’t keep Uncle Buck all night with your snoring.”
Buck scoffs. “Her snores are cute.”
“Unlike yours.” Maddie lifts Jee-Yun from the bed and curls her arms around her, meeting Buck’s eyes and she looks—tired, worn, like she wants nothing more than to see their parents get on the plane back to Pennsylvania. Only two more days though. Just two more days. “Goodnight, darling. Sweet dreams.”
“The sweetest,” Buck promises, holding out his arms. Jee’s weight is warm, familiar, and he brushes his noses into her hair just to breathe in the lovely scent of her. “Come on, baby girl, let’s get a scoot on.”
He holds still, stiff and uncomfortable as Mom and Dad bend low over Jee-Yun, fussing over her and not quite looking at him. He hitches her bag up over his shoulder, the one Maddie always packs despite the fact Buck has more than Jee will ever need in his loft, and leaves Chimney’s hospital room. Just as the door shuts behind him, he hears Maddie explode—
“Why do you always do this? Why can’t you just be happy for him?”
He turns, wanting to go back in because they’ve always been a united front but Chimney catches his eyes through the window and shakes his head. Go, is what he hears, we’ve got this.
The slick iron-tang of relief that hasn’t really left him since he turned around on the street, stress building in his temples and running down his spine, to see Chimney stumbling towards him looking like he’d been through hell heightens in his throat. They had all come terrifyingly close to losing him, and he nods at Chimney through the window and forcing his heavy legs to move away.
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Buck murmurs to Jee-Yun, her arms loose around his neck. “You like Tommy, don’t you? Christopher does, so I think you will once you get to know him. And that’s what matters. You, your mom, your dad, Eddie, Christopher, Bobby, Hen...they’re who are important, hm?”
Jee-Yun yawns against his cheek, all hot, wet air. He pulls a face even as he presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Evan!” Buck turns his whole body, surprised to find Tommy pushing himself out of a chair in the waiting room and tucking his phone away. “There you are.”
“Hey,” he says, wrong footed but delighted. He moves instinctively, reaching for Tommy and sliding a hand over his warm side to curl into a loose fist against his back. He hums, pleased, when he receives a kiss in greeting, mouth tingling with it. “What’re you doing here? Don’t you have a shift?”
“There was a shift change,” Tommy explains, smiling down at Jee-Yun in obvious delight. “And Howie texted me. He thought you might need a friend.”
Buck’s eyebrows climb. “A friend?”
“Or something,” he replies. He offers one large finger to Jee in greeting, softening when she takes it. “He said your parents were being difficult.”
“That’s their normal state,” Buck says, heat crawling into his cheeks when he realises that Tommy had probably rearranged his shift and come all the way out to the hospital just because Chimney said that Buck might need him. “I—you didn’t have to come. My parents are—I’m used to them. They are what they are.”
“Maybe I wanted to come and see you,” Tommy suggests. “Think about that?”
He does blush this time, knowing it shows on his skin as Tommy’s smile turns knowing and gentle. “I suppose we didn’t actually get to have our wedding date, did we?”
“You promised me a dance,” Tommy teases.
“Well, I can’t do dancing tonight but I can offer me, Jee, and some leftover wedding food,” he tells him. “You could come back to mine? Jee’s going to crash as soon as we get there and snore her way through the night, aren’t you?”
She yawns, proving his point.
“If she doesn’t mind sharing you,” Tommy agrees, pushing heat back into Buck’s cheeks—he can’t remember the last time he blushed so much. “What do you say, Jee? Do you mind if I come back with you?”
Turning shy, Jee-Yun presses her face back into Buck’s neck even as she nods, and Tommy seems impossibly enchanted by her.
“I guess the boss has spoken.” Buck reaches out to slip his hand into Tommy’s much larger one, their fingers sliding together and it feels good, right. “Hope you don’t mind snoring, she gets kind of loud.”
*
Jee-Yun’s all arms and legs as he wrestles her into her pyjamas, skin freshly washed from the quick bath that was needed to wash away the smell of a day spent in the hospital: she’s fighting sleep, face puckering in annoyance that could very easily turn into crying. Used to staving off her tears by now, Buck scoops her up once she’s dressed and cradles her close against his chest, tucking her soft blanket around her and nosing into her hair. She’s getting so big these days, a walking, talking toddler, and he’s worried he doesn’t have long left to hold her like this before she, like Christopher is on the verge of doing, decides she’s too old for hugs from him.
There’s a Korean lullaby Mrs Lee taught him, and it rolls out of his throat and wraps her in the familiar sounds of home and love, encouraging her head to grow heavy against his chest.
It’s moments like these that spark a flame of a fierce aching. He wants children so much it makes his back teeth throb and his chest feel as though an iron band is closing in around him with every breath. Only once has he held his flesh and blood in his hands—something that he helped create and Connor and Kameron send pictures of their son every other day, small messages begging him to come and visit them in Ohio where they moved to be closer to Kameron’s sister. The soft cheeked baby has the blur of a strawberry birthmark above his left eye, smaller and less noticeable than Buck’s own, and every time he sees it, he wants to die.
He’s so happy he helped them have the family they wanted, he just didn’t expect it to hurt this much, like sharp knives digging into his fleshy underbelly and stripping him open whenever he thinks too long on it.
Jee breathes out, soft and sleepy, fighting for a little bit longer—a fighter like both of her parents—but she slowly dips into sleep, her body turning heavy against his. Buck turns his face into her hair to let the tears stinging at him faded, not ready to have that conversation with Tommy yet; although he won’t be surprised if he already knows.
News travels fast in the LAFD and gossip definitely travels faster.
The sofa dips and Tommy’s there: strong, masculine, and looking him with an expression that sings through his blood and heats him from the inside out. He looks back, marvelling that he’s actually allowed to look—at men but at this man in particular, he still can’t quite believe it. As his lullaby comes to an end, Jee-Yun gives a small, snuffling snore that has Tommy flashing teeth behind a warm smile.
He peers over Buck’s shoulder. “Is she down?”
“She should be out for the night.” Buck shifts, moving his arms and lifting her as he stands. It’s always a little difficult to set her down, her fists curled tightly into his shirt—Maddie says he was exactly the same when he was small, clinging onto everyone when it was time for a nap, and he’s sure that’s something he should maybe unpack in therapy. “She sleeps like the dead when she’s exhausted, and she’s had a busy day at the hospital with everyone coming and going.”
Both Karen and May had offered to take Jee-Yun for the day, give Chimney uninterrupted time to recover, but he hadn’t wanted her out of his sight.
“Good skill to have.” Tommy steps a little closer, watching. “You’re good with her.”
“She’s not difficult.” Cradling Jee’s head, he lowers her to the pack-n-play that is her bed when she stays with him. Her fists hold onto him, and he works her fingers open, feathering kisses across the tips before he gets her comfortable and tucks her in. She looks breathtakingly perfect like this, his heart heavy with how much he loves her. He leans over to press his lips to her temple. “Sweet dreams, munchkin.”
He straightens and flicks the lights off, her unicorn night light glowing in the dark, and then steps back. Tommy’s hand is there on his back and it’s the easiest thing in the world to lean back against his broad chest, that hand moving until an arm is wrapped around him, hand splayed on his stomach.
“She’s really cute,” Tommy murmurs in his ear. “I still can’t really believe Howie’s a father. It suits him though.” He presses the lightest of kisses to the shell of Buck’s ear that, until that very moment, he didn’t realise was an erogenous zone. “Are you okay?”
Buck twists a little, trying to see his face. He only manages to jam his nose into his cheek, which—not the worst, if he’s honest. Tommy smells incredible.
“I’m fine.” He decides that since the opportunity is there, he may as well take it. Turning his whole body, he puts his arms around Tommy’s shoulders, thumbs brushing over the back of his neck. It doesn’t matter they haven’t held like this before, it feels good. “Why? Do I look like I’m not fine?”
Tommy shakes his hand. His hands cover his waist, gathering the hem of his hoodie that, soon, will belong solely to Buck, to press his fingers against the bare skin of Buck’s hips. It’s distracting. “Chimney told me a while ago, when I was asking about you—”
Buck lights up. “You asked about me?
To his delight, a light pink blush spreads itself across the sharp cheekbones right under his eyes. He can’t resist—he leans forwards to kiss it, Tommy’s eyelashes soft and gentle against his skin.
“Evan,” Tommy grumbles, faintly embarrassed though mostly happy. “Of course I asked about you. You were—you had my attention from the moment the three of you came to Harbor to persuade me to steal a helicopter.”
“Not that you needed a lot of persuading.” He pulls back, aware his smile’s probably dopey. Tommy’s eyes drop to it, his hands flexing on Buck’s sides. “You were ready to throw in with us the second Chim told you what we needed.”
“Maybe I did it to impress you.” Buck snorts, his disbelief bringing about the gorgeous scrunchy smile that he can’t stop thinking about. “Alright, I didn’t, but I was taken with you from the beginning.”
“And you asked my friends about me,” he says, pleased. “You should’ve just spoken to Eddie. He knows everything.”
“I did,” Tommy tells him. “Him and Christopher don’t shut up about you. It’s very sweet.” Buck warms at that confirmation. “But, I was saying, that Chimney mentioned you and Maddie have a difficult relationship with your parents. When he texted me earlier, he said that they were there and causing an argument. So, are you okay?”
Buck sighs, smoothing his hands over Tommy’s shoulders. He’s annoyed that thoughts of his parents are creeping into this embrace. He should be enjoying the touch of Tommy’s body, his chance to run his hands lightly over the shoulders that are distracting him almost as much as his smile.
“Chim’s a gossip,” he says without heat, “but he’s not wrong. My parents...it’s difficult. They’re not what I hoped for.” It’s awkward. He still doesn’t have the words he needs to explain his relationship to Mom and Dad to people who haven’t been there with him through it all. “They’re not happy I’m bi.”
Tommy nods, slow and serious. “They’re homophobic?”
“In a very WASPish way,” Buck says. “It’s all about appearances to them. But, at their core, yeah, I think they are.”
“I’m really sorry, Evan.” Tommy pulls him a little closer to his body, pressing his lips to his forehead and Buck can’t do anything but sink into his chest, letting himself be wrapped up in a hug that feels safer, more comforting, than anything he’s felt before. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head against Tommy’s shoulder. “They’re just who they are. I’m not surprised by it.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Tommy tells him, kissing the side of his head. “I’m here if you ever do want to talk. I know a little something about disappointing parents.” Buck lifts his head, touching Tommy’s cheek and stroking his thumb over the rough stubble that lies there. “Mine disappointed me before I realised I was gay.”
“Something else we have in common,” he says. Tommy shakes his head with a small laugh and the mood shifts to something lighter. “Did you eat today or did you spend all of it sleeping?”
“Mainly sleeping but there was some leftover pizza in the fridge.”
“In that case—” he leans in for a kiss, just because he can. “You’ve got to be hungry.”
“I could eat,” Tommy admits.
“I snagged a few trays of sandwiches and stuff from the caterers,” he says, slipping his hand into Tommy’s and pulling him away from a softly snoring Jee-Yun. “Figured it’d keep me and Christopher going for the week.”
“Fancy sandwiches for school.”
“Christopher only gets the best lunch boxes.” Buck ushers him into a seat at the table, a frantic buzz of energy filling him as he moves about the kitchen, grabbing plates, drinks, and food. “I’ve been told that the other kids are jealous.”
Tommy’s face creases in a smile again. “Exactly how long have you been co-parenting Eddie’s kid?”
“A few years,” he admits, freezing at the table. “Is that—er—is that a problem for you? Because Christopher is...he’s not mine. I know he’s not, but I’m his, if that makes sense. And I can’t, I mean, he always—”
“Comes first,” Tommy finishes for him. “Evan, it’s more than fine. You being so close to Christopher and Eddie? It’s kind of a turn on.”
Buck blinks rapidly. “Really?”
“What’s not to like about a hot firefighter who loves kids and is a good friend?” The chair slides out from under the table, Tommy’s foot pushing it out, and he drops into the seat. “I guess your exes didn’t exactly feel the same?”
He shakes his head. “They did not.”
Natalia didn’t really care, if he’s honest, but the lack of care was as much of an issue as how much Taylor did care. Every time Christopher called, every time Buck had to go to parent-teacher night, supervise a sleepover, fight with the PTA because yes, Beverly, of course these brownies are homemade, I would cheat the system like your husband did last year, Taylor always said it was fine when it clearly wasn’t.
He thinks that Tommy won’t be like that. If anything, he’ll be in the kitchen making brownies with him.
“Do you like to bake?” Buck asks, startling Tommy mid bite.
He swallows. “I’m not very good at it. I’m more of a cook.”
Buck nods. “Okay.”
“Is that a dealbreaker?” Tommy asks, teasing.
He rolls his eyes and tears off a nub of bread, tossing it in Tommy’s general direction. Not much is said as they eat, Tommy hungry judging by the way he tears into the sandwiches that look tiny in his hands. It’s uncomfortably hot sitting opposite him and watching his hands, wondering how they’ll feel on his body. They’re large enough that surely he could hold Buck’s dick in one hand, nice and easy.
He shifts and brings his gaze up.
Buck pulls back to look into his face and takes in the lines around his eyes and mouth, the faintest hint of grey at his temples and God, he can’t believe he gets this. That Tommy’s looked at him and seen something worth pursuing.
“Here,” Buck says, pushing the rest of his sandwich towards him. He’s at least had Bobby’s lasagne today, and Tommy takes it with a smile and swallows it whole, which sends his thoughts skittering in exciting directions. “Maddie liked meeting you. She said it wasn’t enough time though and that I should bring you with me for dinner soon so she can grill you properly.”
“That sounds terrifying, I can’t wait,” Tommy replies. “I like her. She seems like a really good person.”
“She’s the best,” he agrees. “And she won’t be too hard on you. I mean, she’s never really liked anyone I’ve dated in the past. She was friendly enough with Ali but not too much; although, she was dealing with her own stuff at the time. She hated Taylor though. Hates her more now that she’s got a book out.”
Tommy hums. “The reporter?”
“Yeah.”
“So I’ve got a low bar to clear?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he says.
“Then I’ll do my best to make her love me,” Tommy promises, reaching out to take his hand. Buck thinks he shouldn’t be so excited holding his boyfriend’s hand—if Tommy even is his boyfriend, they haven’t really talked about that yet and he’s trying hard not to spiral about what to call what they’re doing and just enjoy the moment. “We didn’t really talk about it last night, but are you okay with having come out?”
“More than,” Buck swears. “You should’ve heard the teasing I got after you left.”
“Oh, I can imagine.” It’s nice that Tommy knows the 118 just as Buck does. Knows that they mean well with their teasing, their love. “You don’t do anything by halves, do you? I told you to clean that soot off.”
He dips his head, bashful and grinning. “No point in making a big deal about it. It’s not like any of them care if I’m dating a man.”
“No, Hen did a lot of good there,” Tommy says, confusing Buck who lifts his head only to get distracted by the smile that confronts him. “You really are adorable, Evan.”
“Yeah?” His heart beats louder and strong in his ears, mouth turning dry with nerves. It’s too early is one argument he’s considered. Another argument is that he shouldn’t have to wait when he’s more than ready. “You going to do something about that?”
Surprise flashes across Tommy’s face. “Evan.”
He sounds like he hasn’t expected him to be so forward. And Buck gets that, he does—he went full bro on Tommy on their first date and then dithered for days as he tried to figure out what the fuck he did actually want.
But he’s in now, completely in, and that means he’s doesn’t want to wait so something he’s convinced he’s going to love.
“What?” He teases, covering Tommy’s hand with his free one. “Are you really surprised I want to have sex with you?”
“I’m surprised you’d bring it up so early,” Tommy admits, eyes dropping to his mouth, not as unaffected as he’s pretending. “We haven’t even had a proper date.”
“Dinner, coffee, wedding.”
“I’m not sure any of those can be called dates.” His foot comes to rest against Buck’s under the table. “Except for the first one. Maybe.”
“I think they’re dates,” Buck says, pausing as he considers something he hasn’t before. “Unless you’re not ready. I know I gave you the runaround at dinner, and I get if you want to wait until you’re more sure of me—”
“Evan.” Tommy’s interruption is firm, kind. “I’m sure of you.”
He could so easily love this man. He feels it: the danger Tommy presents, the future that’s right there in front of them. The last time he felt like this was with Abby but Tommy’s not Abby. He’s open, he’s forthright, he’s stable.
And, fuck, Buck wants to see where this takes him.
Where it takes them.
“I’m ready.” The low, rich timbre of Tommy’s voice sends everything that he is rushing down to pool in his cock. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured, like there’s some third date etiquette you think I’m expecting.”
“It’s a convenient excuse,” Buck admits.
“I figured.”
“So if you’re ready and I’m ready…” he lets his eyes trail suggestively up to his bedroom, his eagerness shining through. Tommy’s mouth shifts, unable to stop smiling. “We could maybe go upstairs and see what happens?”
“Very smooth,” Tommy teases. He brings their hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the centre of his palm that rolls through every inch of Buck’s body. “You say stop at any time. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. Don’t feel like you have to go on just because. Okay? I need to know that you’ll tap out if you need it.”
This man—Buck wants to curl up in his lap and let his strong arms wrap around him. He’s not sure he’s ever had such care and attention, so used to being the one giving it. It turns his insides wobbly and his breath shaky.
He nods, breathless. “I promise.”
*
Buck chews on his bottom lip and twists his spine to reach between his cheeks, rubbing the shower puff over his hole. His toes twitch against the tile of his shower, his nerves alight with expectation and a hint of nerves.
It’s not like he hasn’t had anal sex before. Both Ali and Taylor were menaces with a strap on, and he’s always enjoyed slipping a few fingers into himself when he’s really treating himself to a leisurely wank, but there’s something about preparing himself to have sex with a man that has him wrong footed. Normally he does this before his partner even arrives so he’s able to sweep them up into his arms, swallowing their laughter as he kisses them. This time though, Tommy’s upstairs waiting in his bed and Buck—
—takes a deep breath.
He’s fairly confident he’s going to enjoy this. He is. He likes being fucked, it’s fun and freeing and something he’s always hopeful for whenever he starts up a new relationship. And he already knows he likes Tommy, a lot more than he thought it was possible to like another man. But part of him’s worried that maybe he won’t, maybe he’s bisexual but not bisexual enough to enjoy this with a man and he’s embarrassed himself and hurt Tommy again and he’s definitely spiralling.
“Right, stop it, you’re fine,” Buck mutters to himself. “It’s Tommy. You like it. Calm the fuck down.”
Shaking the nerves from his body out, he returns to making sure that he’s cleaner than he’s ever been in his life.
It’s not like his normal cleaning doesn’t cover it, he’s not one of those men that Taylor did a spot on when the rise of gooch grease led to an absence of female sanitary products during the pandemic. He knows all about proper cleanliness due to the horrifically awful talk Maddie gave him when she came home from college on winter break to realise that Mom and Dad hadn’t bothered to teach him about personal hygiene.
So just when he thinks he’s done, he cleans himself a little more before turning the shower off. Tingling a little from the strength of his attentions, he dries himself and then tugs his boxers back on, not yet confident enough to walk out fully naked. Not yet anyway.
Turning off the light, he pauses and listens for Jee-Yun. Her soft snores are slow and content, a comforting sound that eases him up the stairs to his loft bedroom where Tommy’s waiting for him. He pauses near the top, taking in the sight of all 6’2” of man stretched out on his bed. Feet crossed at the ankles, he’s propped up against the headboard and thumbing through the book on Los Angeles sanitation system—Christopher’s developed a sudden and inexplicable interest in sewers lately and Buck’s always been the one to follow his niche interests.
He looks so at home there that Buck struggles to breathe.
“Hey,” Tommy says, looking up. He smiles, his eyes dipping down low over Buck’s chest, lingering on the muscles of his stomach, before he’s swinging his legs off the bed and standing. “You look clean.”
Buck huffs and finishes his climb. “Squeaky clean. Scout’s honor.”
“You were a Scout?”
“No,” he admits. “Mom and Dad never wanted to drive me about to the meetings.”
Tommy’s mouth flattens, just a little, before he reaches for him. The tips of his fingers, which have burned a searing mark under his chin from their first kiss, settle back where they belong. His head is tipped back and Buck’s mouth parts at being so close to him, the day-warm smell of him intoxicating.
“Still okay?”
The point of his tongue wets his lips, hooking Tommy’s eyes in place. “I’d be better if you kissed me.”
Tommy makes a sound in his throat—like the mmm, not like that from the coffee place and the surprised mmhmm from the hospital waiting room mixed together. Gooseflesh bursts out across the surface of his skin as Tommy leans in and holds him still. Slowly, carefully, teasingly, he brushes the warmth of his lips against Buck’s. It’s so gentle that his eyes flutter shut, pressing up against him in return only for Tommy to pull his mouth away and rub his thumb over the corner of Buck’s wanting mouth.
“Like that?” Tommy murmurs.
He breathes out, cheeks hot. “Tommy.”
“Evan,” Tommy teases, brushing the tips of their noses together. “I gave you a kiss, didn’t I?”
And, oh—oh.
This is going to be fun as well as good.
He’s not sure why he didn’t realise that before now. Of course it’s going to be fun. Him and Tommy are fun, they have fun together, they make each other laugh—sex is going to be no different and, in that bright moment of understanding, all of his nerves melt out of his toes.
“If you want something done,” Buck begins, hard done by despite the grin on his face. “Do it yourself, I suppose.”
He presses his palms to either side of Tommy’s face and swallows his laugh as he presses forward and rocks onto the balls of his feet, confident that Tommy will take his weight.
He does, with ease.
Thick arms flex around him, hand pressing against to the small of his back with fingertips ghosting down to the curve of his ass. Buck wastes no time with pleasantries, licking into Tommy’s mouth to chase the wonderful taste of the inside of his mouth that he’d got to know in more depth in the hospital. It pulls a groan, low and slow, from Tommy who steps closer and plants a foot between Buck’s legs, leaning into him until Buck’s surrounded by muscle and heat and his open mouth that lets him take and take until—
The wall comes out of nowhere, a strip of light from the window falling across Tommy’s face, and his breath hitches in his chest.
This is a man.
He’s kissing a man.
He’s going to fuck a man.
This man.
And he can’t wait.
Buck surges up against him, cupping the back of his head where the short strands of his hair bristle against his palm. Tommy’s mouth is—it’s—God, Buck wants to write a sonnet about his mouth. He wonders if all men are the same, if they all have this taste of possibility and desire and a feeling of coming home or if it’s just Tommy. He thinks it’s just him because when one of Tommy’s large hands presses against his slide, slipping under his T-shirt and resting there, skin on skin in a way that has Buck kissing into him harder, he’s never felt more himself.
Tommy has calluses, rough patches that catch and send a shiver ripping through him. It’s all so different, so wonderful, that his fingers curl around Tommy’s ears, whole body pressing into him as he licks at the roof of his mouth, feels the smooth flatness of his teeth, and tastes the flavour of his food.
“Ssh,” Tommy gentles when Buck’s moaning reaches a level that threatens to disturb Jee-Yun. He tries to keep him close when Tommy pulls back, breathing out and shaking when Buck’s mouth falls to his jaw, kissing along the stretch of skin and scraping the flat of his teeth against him. It’s gratifying to feel this man—this beast, he thinks, deliriously—react to his touch. “Evan, baby—”
He whites out at the endearment, swimming back just in time to hear, “you’ll wake Jee-Yun.”
“Albert slammed a door once while she was sleeping and she didn’t even twitch,” Buck says into the warm skin beneath his ear where the smell of him is stronger. He presses his open mouth to it, tongue following to taste. Tommy’s hips give a small jerk against him, allowing him a flash of what’s to come. “She’ll be fine.”
Tommy exhales and tips his head back so Buck’s able to scrape kisses down his neck. “Who’s Albert?”
“Chimney’s brother,” he explains as he finds a small, unassuming patch of skin that has Tommy flinching with pleasure when he sets his mouth to it. “He couldn’t make the wedding because he got appendicitis on his backpacking tour through the Appalachians.”
Albert had been groggy and apologetic when he called two days earlier, promising Chimney he’d find a way to make it even as he struggled to know what was up and what was down. It was a disappointment for everyone—since leaving the LAFD, Albert’s been pulling a Buck and travelling without purpose, sending streams of photos to the group chat; they’d all hoped he’d be there. But as Maddie pointed out, Albert not being there meant that the Han parents diverted their flight to tend to Albert rather than attend the wedding.
Chimney had the Lees anyway, and Mom and Dad more than filled the role for awkward, disapproving parents at the wedding.
“I didn’t know Howie had a brother,” Tommy says, his chest expanding with a deep breath as he pushing Buck’s hair back, sliding his fingers through the soft curls the end of a long day have brought about.
“Younger half brother, he turned up a few years ago despite never having met him.” He moves his hands over his shoulders, down, and slipping them beneath the soft T-shirt where muscles twitch in welcome. “But do you really want to talk about the Han family tree?”
Tommy gives his hair the gentlest of tugs, and Buck’s vision goes blurry. “Tell me about his grandparents.”
“You—” he laughs, leaning in to kiss him again as he starts to work the T-shirt up chest. “Arms.”
Tommy obediently lifts his arms above his head, eyes fixed on Buck as he moves the T-shirt up and over. He lets it fall to the floor, unsteady now that acres of flesh and muscle and scar tissue have been revealed to him.
He doesn’t know where to start, so he chooses to simply lean in and press his open mouth to Tommy’s left pectoral—it seems a good a place to start as any. Tommy’s head falls back, his own shaky breath leaving him as Buck shifts to taste his skin and lick across a nipple that pebbles. Tommy grunts, stroking down between his shoulders and fisting against his bare skin, knuckles pressing into his spine when Buck adds teeth into the mix.
“Evan—” he sounds strangled, deliciously so. “Bed.”
“Good idea,” Buck agrees, licking up his sternum to land a kiss on his mouth. He’s thrilled by the hooded expression on Tommy’s face, catching him off guard when he pushes him. Tommy lets out a startled sound as he bounces on the mattress, bright expression delighted. “I told you—I’m ready for this.”
Tommy holds his hands up, teasingly placating and inviting all at once. Buck’s on him, crawling over him but not for barely a moment because Tommy hooks a leg behind his knees and turns them so easily that Buck loses all ability of thought. The fact that Tommy’s strong enough to manhandle him has him moaning, hot and shameless as his cock jerks, pre-come slicking him and staining his boxers.
“This okay?” Tommy knees Buck’s thighs apart. “Me on top?”
“You can cover me.” He sounds drunk, and Tommy makes a valiant effort to not let his amusement show. “I didn’t realise—you’re so much bigger than me, it’s...I like it.”
A slow smile softens the arousal on Tommy’s face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Tommy looks down at him, eyes flickering over his face, and Buck feels seen. Not in a horrible way, not the way he felt when he woke screaming from a nightmare about Christopher drowning in front of him and not being able to stop it. Ali had tried to help, God she’d tried, but it was too much, too vulnerable. And Taylor hadn’t known what to do when he would wake himself sobbing over nightmares of Eddie bleeding out on the street, Buck unable to reach him. It was like they had looked into him, reached past whatever mask he unknowingly put on to see the bits and pieces of him that he wanted to keep him.
But he feels safe under Tommy’s gaze.
“I didn’t come to see you for this,” Tommy tells him after a moment of soft contemplation. “I just wanted to see you.”
Buck strokes up his forearms and splays a hand over the speckled scar on his side. “Added bonus?”
“Evan,” he smiles. “I really like you.”
“I really like you too,” Buck tells him, honest even as he risks moving. He drags his cock against Tommy’s and—fucking fucking fuck. “Obviously.”
Tommy groans and covers the distance, kissing him hard and deep, as Buck eagerly explores the length of his back. He twists, squirming to help Tommy get his jeans off, pressing his shoulders back into the bed when Tommy’s mouth falls to his chest, pull rough and hard over a nipple.
“Is this payback?” He asks, thin and reedy with pleasure. “Because I—er—I like it.”
“Just exploration.” Tommy kisses his skin, rubbing the scratch of his stubble there. “I’ve been thinking about you. It’s been kind of hard to get you out of my head.”
“Oh. Oh.” Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that Tommy’s also as jumbled up as Buck. While he’s been speed running his queer awakening, Tommy’s been trapped in the first flares of infatuation where thinking about someone else is fun and exciting. A thought strikes him hard. “Did you jerk off thinking about me?”
Tommy sinks his teeth into the flesh above his ribcage, the sharp burst of gorgeous pleasure streaking through him as Tommy’s hips press down, grinding into the mattress before he catches himself.
“Fuck,” Tommy breathes, dark eyed and a little wild. “Evan—of course I have. Fuck. After you came to Harbor for a tour? I didn’t realise it, didn’t think you’d ever think like that about me, but I had to—I needed—”
Buck thinks about it as the impression of Tommy’s teeth throb, soothed by a desperate sweep of tongue. His hands shake as he imagines of Tommy in Vegas, slipping away from Eddie to reach into his trousers, hand pressed against the wall of some bathroom, jerking off to thoughts of Buck just because he existed. Just because he had smiled at Tommy and reached out to him.
“Can’t stop thinking about you. About what you taste like, how you sound,” Tommy murmurs into his skin, kissing down his torso and dragging his tongue through the lines of his abdominals. “Couldn’t believe it when you said you were trying to get my attention.”
“Took me by surprise too,” he admits on a gasp. “I didn’t know this was a thing. I didn’t know I could have it.”
“You can have anything you want, baby.” Tommy braces himself on his forearm as his chin hovers over the waistband of Buck’s boxers. “Anything.”
Buck swallows hard, stroking the shell of Tommy’s ear. “I want everything.”
“Everything it is,” Tommy promises and lowers his mouth to Buck’s cock, kissing him open mouthed and wet through the material of his boxers. “Christ.”
He thumps the mattress with the flat of his fist. “Fuck!”
“Ssh,” Tommy orders. “Jee-Yun!”
“She’s—” he gasps out like Tommy hasn’t just scrambled his brains, but there’s a small snuffling sound from below. Buck has ears for his niece, can hear her crying across town—it’s a thing, Chim, I swear to God—and maybe he does need to quieten down just a little bit. “I’ll be quiet. I’ll be quiet.”
“Good.” Tommy’s thumb rubbing against the dip of his hip. “I don’t think we should jump straight to gags on our first go.”
Buck shudders, knuckles pressing into his mouth as Tommy grins and dips his head again. His tongue flattens wet and heavy against the wet front of his boxers, laving at him, lips coming around to suckle gently and his teeth sink harder into his knuckles. He hasn’t been in bed with anyone since he and Natalia broke up, his hand keeping him busy with thoughts of Tommy in recent weeks, and it’s a lot, it’s great, it’s obscene.
He doesn’t know what to do with his free hand that flutters uselessly around Tommy’s shoulder, his head, and he decides that sinking it into his covers is the best solution. Maybe Tommy likes someone holding him down, maybe he doesn’t, Buck’s got all that to learn so, for now, he errs.
“Fuck,” he mutters around his knuckles, trying hard not to grind up into Tommy’s mouth. He breathes and shoves his fist down to his other side, flexing his fingers as he stares at the ceiling. Tommy sucks harder and his hips move without his permission. “Tommy—”
“Hmm?” Long fingers slip under his waistband, rubbing against his warm skin, and Buck lifts his hips, eager. His cock is hard, shiny with come that won’t stop leaking he’s so turned on. He’s sticky with it. “Christ, Evan.”
“Marks out of ten?”
Having Tommy’s breath wash over his cock as he laughs is amazing. His big hand curls around it and Buck’s pretty sure his brain stops working. “Too early to tell.”
The thing is, objectively, Buck knows he has a nice dick.
He’s had a lot of compliments on it, and it’s not like Firehose came out of nowhere. He was already on dating apps with that name long before he’d ever thought about joining the LAFD. He’s thick and smooth with one long vein pulsing at the side that Tommy presses against as though checking his pulse. His foreskin shimmers with come, cock dark and strong against the colour of Tommy’s hand.
Tommy shifts his hand, the stroke of his palm against his sensitive skin shuddering through him and he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Tommy so close to his cock. He watches, enraptured, as long fingers flex around his base, thumb running down the long line of his vein with a pressure that’s exquisite. His foreskin’s pulled back with a careful pass of his thumb, and Buck forgets to breathe when his tongue slides out, slow, deliberate, and teasing.
Tommy takes the flat of his tongue and licks long and firm up his shaft before closing his mouth over the head of him.
Buck’s mouth stretches opens, no sound coming out. In a distant part of his mind, he’s a little surprised that this doesn’t feel all that different to a woman putting her mouth on him. Tommy’s hand is bigger, rougher, and he’s got more mouth, more confidence, but it’s startlingly similar. He doesn’t want familiar though, he wants the difference Tommy brought into his life on a kiss, and he looks down and very nearly comes.
“Mmm,” Tommy says, pleased when he pulls off, throat moving in a swallow that Buck’s going to dream about. “You always get this wet?”
The blush starts in his chest and spreads up. “I—yeah, sometimes. Depends on—depends on who I’m with.”
“I should be flattered?”
“Yeah.” He’s breathless, trembling with it. “Yeah, you should.”
“In that case—”
“Jesus, Tommy,” Buck breathes, his hand wrenching free of the duvet to clutch at his shoulder only to immediately pull back. Silently since his mouth is busy, Tommy grabs it and guides it back, stroking the inside of his wrist as he does so. He sinks his fingers into dense muscle. “Fuck.”
Strong cheeks hollow around him, a slick sound as Tommy moves down his cock, taking more into the pressure of his mouth, and Buck realises that he’s not going to last.
His control is shot.
There’s no way he’s going to be able to make a good showing, not when he has this muscled beast of a man with his soft eyes, scrunched up smile, and fond Evan that’s filled with an infinite future of promises shouldered between his bare thighs.
“I’m not—I can’t—”
Tommy pulls off, tongue sweeping up the come on the top of the head, hand jerking him nice and strong, his grip sure and thorough. “You want to come in my mouth, baby?”
It’s the baby that gets to him, that sinks right into him and unlocks something fresh and new inside his sense of self.
“Yeah, yes, please,” he rasps. “I—I’m clean. I got checked after—there’s been no one since my last girlfriend.”
Tommy kisses the top of his weeping head. “Good. Me too. Maybe I should’ve checked earlier but...you’re irresistible, Evan.”
“Oh.”
Tommy slides his mouth back onto him, Buck helpless to stop the small, desperate noises leaving his throat. His toes curl against his mattress, fingers pressing bruises into Tommy’s shoulder as his other hand comes up to clamp over his mouth, suddenly afraid that he’ll be loud enough to wake Jee-Yun and his neighbours.
It starts to gather at the base of spine where a Tommy-focused knot has been tightening ever since their first kiss, maybe before that when fake mouth static burst out of his mouth. Buck panics, wondering if it’s going to be too much, if he will be too much, but Tommy hums around him, head moving with a wet sound; the hand not on his cock pressing down on Buck’s hip, thumbing at the line of muscle cutting down to his cock.
A throaty moan breaks free, the small of his back pushing up into Tommy’s touch, wanting more, wanting everything, wanting him. God, he wants him so much it’s dizzying.
Tommy moves the hand from his hip down, fingers curling to crook his knuckles. A burst of pleasure shocks him as knuckles rub against the underside of his balls, lower until they’re pressing into the scrawled skin of his perineum that has him jerking, trying to get away, trying to crawl closer. Tommy’s eyes flash up, a finger extending to slid between his cheeks, brushing against the soft dryness of his hole.
His orgasm rips through him.
A loud, choked sob leaves his lips as he shudders, pleasure streaking up his veins and blooming lava in his upper thighs. Tommy’s moan is loud enough that he hears it above the blood rushing through his ears, emptying himself into his mouth, gasping for breath as his eyes squeeze so tightly shut tears leak from the corners. He loses all ability to think, to breathe, as Tommy swallows his come and slowly pulls his tight mouth up, tongue rubbing over the sensitive head of Buck’s cock before he releases him.
A kiss presses to the tip in farewell, careful fingers resting him on his thigh.
“Fuck,” Buck breathes, shaking. “Fuck.”
Tommy’s face appears above his, blurry in his haze. His thumb brushes a tear away from the corner, so tender Buck might actually cry for real. “Good?”
He sounds like a whale when he opens his mouth.
Tommy’s entire face creases, an unattractive snort that makes Buck want him more bursting free. He ducks his head, kisses Buck’s slack mouth, and Buck tries to chase the taste of himself but Tommy pulls back and shifts. He moves to lie carefully at his side, one arm stretched over Buck’s stomach, the other stroking his hair back from his face.
Buck’s alive with feeling, chest rising and falling like he’s run a marathon.
He turns his head to look at Tommy, taking in the slight redness of his mouth, the faint hint of delight in his eyes.
“My turn,” he says, finding the energy to push up, reaching for him.
Tommy grabs his hand quickly, stilling it on his stomach. “If you touch me, I’ll come. And I’m pushing fifty, I won’t be able to come again tonight.”
“You’re—” Buck’s brain scatters. “How old are you?”
Tommy tells him. Fresh arousal washes over him and that’s new.
“Right, okay, I’m—yeah, I’m normal about that,” he lies.
Tommy’s thumb tracks across his cheekbone, over his parted lips. He presses in just a little, the taste of his skin bursting across Buck’s tongue.
“Getting the urge to call me daddy?”
Buck flushes, rolls his eyes, and grins all at the same time. “A little bit, yeah.”
“Save it for next time,” Tommy suggests, gentle and sweet. He stares at him, like he can’t stop himself. “You sounded so good coming apart just now. I want to hear those sounds again.”
Buck turns into him, sliding a leg over his and enjoying the feel of his hard cock pressing into his stomach. It’s odd feeling it, like there’s something almost out of place, but he watches Tommy’s face as he grinds just a little against him and there’s definitely nothing wrong.
“You’re going to fuck me, right?” He asks, wanting to slide into Tommy’s arms and never leave. “And, I mean, if you don’t, I do want to blow you. I’ve never done it before but I’ve been doing research. A lot of porn, which I don’t think is actually helpful. At least I’m not sure I’ll be able to do what they do without a lot of practice and—”
Tommy cuts him off with a kiss, tongue filling his mouth and pushing him back, arms tight around him, until he forgets what he’s saying.
“We can leave it here,” he offers right against Buck’s lips. “It’s not like we planned this. And it—” he pulls back, not embarrassed, definitely not, but cautious for sure. “It might take a while to prep you.”
Buck blinks at him, listening to his words and taking a second to absorb them before he’s rolling out of Tommy’s arms and scooting across his bed on his stomach to his drawer. He yanks it open and grabs the first dildo that’s closest, throwing it over his shoulder to a startled Tommy. Another one follows, then a third, and, at last, a fourth.
“Why are you throwing dildos at me?” Tommy asks, bewildered.
“Because—” he rolls back, rising up onto his knees so he’s able to sling a leg over Tommy’s thighs. Thighs that are thick, strong, and covered in a dark coating of hair that he wants to lick. “I’ve never had sex with a man before but it’s not like I haven’t done anal.”
It’s Tommy’s turn to blink, his hands falling to the back of Buck’s thighs. “The dildos.”
“I call this one Tommy.” He picks up one of his favourites, waggling it at Tommy whose smile turns bemused. “Alright, I don’t, but I did buy it after you kissed me. I think I underestimated your size though.” He presses down, a gentle grind, watching Tommy’s face. “But we’ll make do.”
“Evan.” There’s his name again,. He leans down to press a kiss to Tommy’s mouth. “You’re something else.”
“Good something else?”
“The best.”
Turning pinker, he sets the dildo down and presses his palms to the strong chest under him. “I tend to go full Buck on some things. Eddie’s pretty sure I’ve got undiagnosed ADHD.”
“I love how close you and Eddie are but could you maybe not talk about him when you’re sitting on top of my dick?”
“Your clothed dick,” Buck points out. “Why are you still wearing your boxers?”
Tommy’s laughing as Buck scrambles off him to pull his boxers down with absolutely no grace and—he pauses, blinking. Fuck. He was joking earlier, flirting in a way that’s natural to him when he called Tommy a beast but this cock...he didn’t realise it was possible to actually salivate at something and yet, here he is.
Thick, veined, cut: Buck wants to choke on it.
“Come here,” Tommy requests, reaching out a hand. Buck takes it and lets himself be pulled back as Tommy sends the dildos scattering with a faint won’t be needing those. “Marks out of ten?”
Buck laughs just a little too loud. “Ten, definitely ten.”
“Lube?”
He reaches for the drawer again but, this time, Tommy pins him in place and stretches. Buck’s only just finished riding out the surprise heat of arousal when Tommy comes back with a half-empty bottle and a condom that Buck’s not entirely sure is in date. He’s not nervous, he’s not, it’s just Ali and Taylor pegging him is a little different in terms of mechanics to having 6’2” of firm muscle pressing down on him.
He wonders if this is how the people he’s slept with in the past felt. Whether they also had the buzz of excitement in their stomachs.
Buck spreads his legs eagerly.
“Christ,” Tommy mutters, a little dazed as he sweeps his gaze down. “Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”
He shifts, warm and excited. “Sexy?”
“Something like that,” Tommy murmurs, his touch turning faintly reverent before he slicks his fingers and slides them between the cleft of his ass. “Eyes on me, baby.”
Pinned under his gaze, Buck feels stripped apart, splayed open, as the press of one of Tommy’s fingers rubs over his hole. He parts his legs further, pulling his knees up until his feet are flat on the mattress, encouraging. When Tommy slowly eases a finger into him, Buck shudders and moans, pressing down, trying to hold Tommy’s eyes, not entirely sure what to do with his face. Tommy shifts, his thighs between Buck’s and he leans down, kissing into him.
“You feel so good,” Tommy murmurs, moving his finger, gently tugging at the rim. “Going to be tight for me?”
“Fuck, yes,” Buck breathes, curling his fingers against the back of his head. “Jesus, Tommy, I want you. It’s—please.”
He’s gentled with a shush, a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his cheekbone, his birthmark and another finger pressing into him and—oh, it feels better with Tommy’s hands. His own fingers are fine, those of Taylor and Ali’s delicate and sweet, but Tommy’s are large, strong, rough, and he’s pretty sure he could come just from this. Maybe one day he will. Maybe Tommy will just stretch him open with his fingers (his mouth? God, Buck can only hope) and watch him come apart on his hand instead of his cock.
Buck wants to do everything with this man.
“That’s it,” Tommy says, soft and thick with the arousal Buck feels sticky and warm against his thigh. That’s going to be inside him. “God, look at you.”
Buck’s head rolls. “Mirrors, we should try mirrors.”
Eyes crease, mouth shift in a smile. “You’re going to be a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”
“Only the best kind,” he promises, hips twitching in a slow grind against Tommy’s fingers. “More, please.”
Tommy hums and scissors his fingers, stretching the sensitive rim of his hole, his tongue tracing over Buck’s top lip. It’s slow, it’s steady, it’s agonising in its patience but it’s so, so good when a third of Tommy’s thick fingers presses deep into him. The stretch is more than he’s used to. His dildos aren’t particularly large—in girth or length—but they get the job done. This, right here, with Tommy, with his fingers, his cock, the hot breath of his excitement against his cheek, Buck knows it’s going to be so much more than he’s ever had before.
“I’m ready, I’m ready,” he pants. His skin is on fire with how ready he is, lips dry from how hard he’s breathing, pinpricks of sweat making his sheets cling to his back. “Tommy, please, I’m ready.”
Cool lube is drizzled over Tommy’s fingers, the slick sound of it smearing over his hole, inside him, it’s obscene. His cock twitches, leaking against his stomach, Tommy’s eyes drawn to it.
“Are you?” Half teasing, half checking. Buck’s frustrated groan that pitches on the wrong side of too loud again answers it for him. “Okay, okay. You should—turn over. It’ll be easier on your hands and knees. This time at least.”
Before he even finishes speaking, Buck’s shaking his head. “Like this, please? I want to see you. You—above me—I’ve never. It’s—you’re so much bigger than me, I want...please.”
Tommy shudders, like Buck saying please in that tone of voice is almost too much for him. A distant part of him files that away to examine at a later date.
“Okay,” Tommy rasps, steel over gravel. “Yeah, okay.”
When he’s been pegged in the past, he’s been on his hands and knees. It’s just been easier that way for his girlfriends to get the right leverage and there’s something they like about seeing his broad, muscled back before them, being able to sink their hands into the thick meat of his thighs and hips, so Tommy pushes his thighs open and strokes up the back of his thighs until he’s holding the hinges of his knees is new. Buck helps him, squirming until he’s flatter, happily hooking his knees over Tommy’s shoulder.
“You’re unusually flexible,” Tommy observes, punch drunk as he fists himself and rips open a condom. There’s a shake in his hands that Buck wants to still with his body.
“Yoga,” he explains like he’s not folding himself up like a pretzel for Tommy’s cock. “After an accident I started doing it as part of my PT. Kept it up.”
“Good to know,” Tommy manages to say, rolling the condom on. “Nice and slow. You need to stop, you tell me.”
Buck nods, breathless, and holds still.
The thick head of Tommy’s cock finding his hole, rubbing slick and smooth, slightly rubbery from the condom, sends his heart tripping in his chest. He forces himself to relax, to remind himself how good it is when he’s filled with a dildo. But having a real-life cock seeking to breach him, Buck’s sick with how turned on he is.
His head presses back into his pillow, neck stretched, as the pressure blooms and aches and his body slowly, uncertainly parts. Tommy’s thick, so much thicker than any of his dildos, and he feels it in every part of his body. His heart throbs between his eyes, his mouth tacky and dry as it gapes open with breath caught lodged in his throat. His rim stretches, twitching, making space for Tommy until it wraps around him and Tommy catches himself on the mattress where his hand fists into the duvet when the head of him pops into Buck’s body.
Tommy chokes, skin flushed deep and hot. Buck barely sees him through the haze in his own eyes but he does see his curls, soft and flopping over his forehead, and it’s as though he’s fallen down the rabbit hole into his own Wonderland.
“Fuck,” Tommy grunts. The muscles in his stomach twitch with the effort of holding himself still. “Fucking hell, Evan. You’re so—”
“Yeah?” His head’s spinning, his entire world focused on the burning heat between his legs. “C’mon, babe. Giddy-up.”
Tommy’s laughing, breathless and a little pained, as he eases himself achingly slowly into Buck’s body, pausing to let him adjust, to slick more lube around where they’re joined with clumsy fingers until—until—
—their bodies touch.
Buck moans: long, loud, and shameless.
“You feel so good,” he gasps, speaking around the thick knot of arousal low in his throat. “Jesus, I can feel everything.”
His body is one big throb. He begins on Tommy’s cock, everything centred there, and he pulses with the too-big stretch that tips gently into pain that Buck wants to wrap himself up in. His thighs ache and he’s going to be so sore in the morning, but he wants it. He wants it all. He wants Tommy to fuck him so hard Buck turns up to work with a limp that’ll have everyone knowing what happened to him in the night.
He wants everyone to know that Tommy fucked him. That Tommy looked at him and saw something worth his attention, his care.
He’s never felt so free.
“You have to be quiet,” Tommy rasps, his big body shaking. He turns his face, scratch of stubble against Buck’s calf, his mouth wet and open against his skin. “You sound—fuck, Evan. The second we’re alone, I want to hear all your noises. Want to hear you scream for me, baby.”
Buck’s entire body clenches at that, dragging a rough, loud sound from Tommy who falls over him, pushing his legs back until his knees are up around his ears and this is already the best sex Buck’s ever had.
“Fuck me, fuck me, please, just fuck me,” Buck rambles, desperate, more than a little pathetic, and wanting. Tommy swallows, the sound loud between them, and Buck grinds down to feel that delicious thickness filling him, the pulse of his body. “C’mon—move. Tommy, I can take it. I can—”
Tommy moves.
Buck can’t take it.
Everything’s so bright, so sharp, so all-consuming that he whines and tries to pull away. Tommy doesn’t let him, pinning him where he is and sliding one large hand into his hair to curl his fingers around the curling strands there.
“I’ve got you,” he promises, hot and heavy. “Trust me.”
Buck just nods, wild and lost. This is already more than he ever expected but tipping himself into Tommy’s hands is the easiest thing in the world.
“Good, good boy,” Tommy murmurs, drunk on the feeling of Buck’s body wrapped tightly around him that he misses the blown eyes, red-streaked cheeks (he won’t next time). “Just—fuck. Evan. You feel perfect. So hot and tight. I can’t—” he groans, shifts, and moves again. Buck’s nerves light up and scream at him. “Fuck.”
Buck takes a clumsy hand and runs it down the hot length of Tommy’s neck, squeezing, snapping his eyes to him. Deliberately, he tilts his hips. Their groans tangle together in the space between them as Tommy somehow, impossibly, sinks a little deeper.
“More,” he rasps.
Above him, a muscle jumps beneath Tommy’s ear as his jaw clenches and his breath turns jagged and raw. Buck turns his mouth up, searching for his, bearing down and squeezing so that his entire body pulses with feeling.
He licks at the roof of Tommy’s mouth. “More.”
“So fucking demanding,” Tommy groans.
His weight shifts from over Buck, a devastating loss that has him chasing after him, hands sprawled on his back, his sides, trying to pull him back. But Tommy doesn’t go far. He readjusts, squeezing the thigh just under his left knee and begins to move. It’s slow and measured, a thick drag of his cock all the way out until only the head is caught in his body and then a firm slide back in. Buck feels it all over him, choking him, struggling to find the air he needs to moan his appreciation.
“That’s it, you’ve got it,” Tommy breathes, curls falling over his forehead—and when the fuck did he have curly hair? Fresh come leaks onto his stomach at the sight of Tommy, heavy and gorgeous over him.
Why did no one tell him he was allowed this?
He gets his breath back only to mewl, a sound he didn’t even know he knew how to make. Tommy rolls his hips, sinuous and smooth, and punches little whimpers from him until Tommy leans down and swallows his sounds, tongue sliding in wet and filthy. Buck presses up into him, lips bruised and swollen and throbbing to match the rest of him.
“God,” Buck groans, hands twitching on Tommy’s shoulders. He’s trembling all over, not sure what he’s doing but knowing he wants more, wants to leave marks all over Tommy so he’s as ruined by this as he is. “Is this what it always feels like?”
Tommy turns his face into Buck’s cheeks, nose digging into his flesh. “What does it feel like? Tell me.”
“Like I’m full for the first time in my life,” he moans, drifting his hands down Tommy’s muscles to his hips. He squeezes, pressing into his skin and muscle. “Like I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me harder.”
A breath of laugh against his cheek. “Harder, hm?”
“Yes, please.”
“So polite,” Tommy teases, kissing a wet mouth to his neck as his fingers tug at Buck’s hair. “Think you can take it?”
“Let’s find out,” Buck breathes.
Tommy sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and bears down in him before his hips snap, hard and testing. Buck flies apart, held in place only by Tommy’s cock in him, and he reacts beautifully. Tommy curses and tightens his hand in his hair, the other supporting the weight of Buck’s rump as he focuses his weight in his knees and thrusts harder.
All Buck can do is cling onto Tommy as he’s fucked well and truly for the first time in his life, sharp pleasure jumping out, sweat gathering on his skin and pooling in the hollow of his throat. His eyes roll back into the back of his head, Tommy’s cock scraping across his prostate on each hard thrust that shakes the bed, his vision turning blurry and soft around the edges as his cock throbs and leaks more and more come onto the flat of his stomach.
“Evan,” Tommy grunts, “look at me.”
He can’t. He can barely open his eyes as each time Tommy’s hips grind against him when he bottoms up, the rub of his cock between their bodies, the pleasure aching through him with how close he is to coming. A sharp, demanding tug of his hair makes his scalp tingle and the delightful sting spreads down his spine and up into his cock. Tommy draws his head around, like a touch of fingers on his chin, and Buck struggles to look at him through hazy eyes, a slick of sweat coating his skin as Tommy fucks into him, hard and relentless and so perfect.
“You’re doing so well,” Tommy says against his mouth, flushed and dark eyed. “You’re so good. Going to come on my cock, aren’t you? Fuck, Evan. Your ass. It’s perfect, so tight, so hot. Want you to come on me.”
“Tommy—” his mouth moves uselessly, not enough air, choking and overwhelmed. “Please—”
He’s so close. His heart thunders against his sternum, his pulse pounds in his head, his temples. His toes curl, the muscles in his thighs on fire.
He pants into Tommy’s mouth, clutching at his body as each thrust makes him dizzier than he ever thought possible. A tug in his hair, just on the right side of too much, and Tommy grinds deep and slow before pulling back to fuck him into the mattress with strong, gorgeous thrusts that shove him closer to the edge each and every time.
He bites down on Tommy’s bottom lip that’s right there, wet, shiny, and so tempting. The groan he gets in return short circuits his brain and makes his vision swim.
And then it happens.
Unexpectedly despite the sweat slicking his skin and the desperate way he’s clenching around Tommy, trying to get there quicker.
Buck cries out, so loud that Tommy’s hand jerks from his hip and presses two thick fingers deep into his mouth, muffling him. It doesn’t work. His entire body jerks with shock and pleasure, the lightning strike turned wondrous. It shoots through him, following the pre-written path of his Lichtenberg scars, flaming and burning.
Vision spotting and drool pooling around Tommy’s fingers, sliding from his mouth and slicking his throat, he comes in strong, desperate jerks across his stomach, his hole clenching down so tightly around Tommy’s cock that there’s a ragged, pained sound above him. A stubble jaw presses against him, top of a straight nose nudging against the wet corner of his mouth, and Buck’s dying and living and flying all at the same time.
Tommy kisses him to muffle his ragged, fractured sounds more effectively.
Buck’s drunk on this and never wants it to end as the strong pulse starts to die to twitches shooting shocks of pleasure through him
“Fuck,” he swears around Tommy’s kiss. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Tommy groans, thick and hot. “We’re not done yet, baby.”
Buck’s blink is slow, sticky with its wetness as tears have tracked from his eyes to be caught on Tommy’s tongue. His body gives a weak, sore throb, drawing his jigsaw mind back to the fact that Tommy’s still hard and aching inside him.
“You good?” Tommy rasps.
He laughs, weak and dazed. “Am I—? Never fucking better.”
Tommy kisses him, panting into his mouth. “Can I—?”
“Yes.” He’s oversensitive and everything aches in the best way. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t give anything to see Tommy fall apart in his body. “C’mon.”
Tommy grunts and shifts, pushing himself up until he’s kneeling and drawing Buck’s knees from his shoulders until his calves are resting there, taking some of the pressure off his thighs. He rolls his hips, face shuttering at the sensation, sliding deeper into Buck whose hole gave a weak flutter. His cock leaks, passingly interesting in where this was going.
“Look at me,” Tommy commands again, deep and rough. Buck snaps his eyes to his face, mouth parting, wet and inviting.
The drag of Tommy’s cock against his hole, sore and sensitive from his second orgasm of the night, Tommy holds his eyes until just the head of his cock is caught inside him and then—
Buck shouts.
Tommy’s hips snap so hard that he’s driven up the bed, hand flying out to catching himself on his headboard, face creasing as it’s too much, too much, too much but he’ll be damned if he asks Tommy to stop. Not when he looks like this: curly hair sweat-damp, skin flushed all the way down his defined stomach, arms bulging as he holds onto Buck and fucks into him.
Buck scrambles against the mattress, knotting his fingers in his ruined duvet. All he’s able to do is hold on, his body screaming and aching and wanting, as Tommy fucks choked whimpers out of him, unable to look away from the beast of a man above him. Brow knit, lips pulled back from his teeth, Buck wants to sear this moment into his memory because he’s sure that no one has ever looked more beautiful and perfect that Tommy does as he thrusts into him, hard, quick, and rougher than before.
He arches the small of his back off the bed, fucking himself back onto Tommy who blows out a breath.
“Fuck, you going to come again, baby?”
Buck shakes his head, thighs trembling. “No, no, I can’t—”
A flash of pink, Tommy’s tongue wetting his lips. “Do it for me.”
Buck whines, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. It’s not like it’s impossible, he’s done it before, by himself, but over hours, not one straight after the other. Tommy doesn’t slow, he shifts, and Buck finds his mouth filled with fingers again to stop the noises leaving him as his prostate is nailed over and over again.
The hand Tommy has on his knee drops to Buck’s half-hard cock, curling rough fingers around it, gentle strokes that rocket up the sensation choking him. He shakes his head, wild, almost frightened.
“Tommy—”
“Come on, Evan,” Tommy encourages, muscles straining. “You can do it.”
And he does.
Tommy leans forward, pressing Buck’s knee close to his chest, and strokes his cock as the most perfect thrust to ever have existed hits him just right and Buck’s coming again. His back arches so fast and high his spine releases in a series of cracks. He bites down on Tommy’s fingers, groaning and sobbing as his feet shake and his hole tightens like a vice, sucking a hiss from between Tommy’s teeth.
Buck barely manages to open his eyes in time to watch Tommy fall apart. Jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck jutting out. And he wishes his limbs weren’t wet noodles. He wants to pull him down to kiss him, to lick at his tendons, to taste his sweat.
When Tommy comes, it’s stunning.
His head drops forward, his hips thrusting against Buck, fingers tight against his hip and pressing down on his bottom jaw. Buck knows, right then, that they have to get tested as soon as possible because he won’t be complete until he knows what it’s like to feel this man come inside him and to drip with the aftermath. Tommy shakes, fingers so hard on his hip that Buck prayers there’ll be bruise marks even as he wants to squirm away from how painful it now feels with his ass sore, raw, and oversensitive.
“Motherfucker.” Tommy collapses like a building turning to ash. Buck sweeps his limp arms around him and pulls him down until he’s being pressed into the bed, clutching weakly around the softening cock in his body. “Evan—fuck.”
Buck pushes Tommy’s fingers out with his tongue and swallows down the excess of saliva, pleased to finally get his hands into the curls that have been taunting him. Scraping his fingers through them, scratching at Tommy’s scalp, he turns and bumps his lips against his forehead.
“We’re going to do that again,” he says, voice hoarse.
Tommy’s hold body moves in a laugh, his cock slipping out as he does so and—oh, Buck wants him back.
“Well, if you insist,” Tommy teases, reaching between them to remove the condom, tying it off. “Where’s your—?”
“Just drop it on the floor,” he says, it’s gross but the alternative is Tommy leaving him alone for too long. “Don’t want you to go anywhere.”
Tommy smiles, soft and fond, and does as Buck suggests, not able to move far because Buck is winding his limbs around him and stretching, long and hard beneath him. It’s almost as good as the sex even though his hips and ass throb with the aftermath.
He twitches, surprised, when Tommy’s fingers stroke between the cleft of his ass to feel him stretched. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Buck promises, still trying to find his voice. “Was perfect.”
“Perfect?” Tommy strokes his fingers once over Buck’s hole and then shifts off him, sex-flushed and soft. He draws Buck into his arms, wrapping them up tightly as Buck struggles to pull the duvet over them while keeping the spills of sex away from their faces. “There’s not a lot of room for improvement for next time if it was perfect.”
“Any more improvement and you might kill me,” he admits, annoyed at the yawn pressing in against him. “I’ve never come three times like that with another person before. I don’t think I can feel my cock.”
Tommy laughs, pressing in close to kiss him. “You’re adorable. And very loud. But mainly adorable.”
He grins, brushing their noses together. “Told you Jee would sleep through anything.”
“Well, next time we’ll have to make sure it’s just the two of us,” Tommy tells him as they settle in, shivering and sated, excited from their new intimacy. “I want to hear every single noise you make when I’m fucking you.”
Buck works his hand out from his blanket and crooks his pinky finger under Tommy’s nose. “Only if I get to blow you first.”
Tommy huffs, delighted by him, and hooks their fingers together. “Deal.”
*
When he surfaces out of sleep the next morning, Buck’s body aches. His stomach muscles and his thighs are sore, his ass aching from everything he’s done, and he stretches slow and luxurious against the burning heat at his side. Tommy’s arm shifts to wrap around him, resting his head on his stomach and stroking fingers through his sweat-knotted hair. He gums at Tommy’s flesh, nuzzling his nose into the warmth of him, comfortable and warm. He lies there, drifting, and listens to the low, easy sound of Tommy’s voice reading aloud.
“—the only option was an expensive excavation, removal and replacement of the damaged pipe, typically requiring street repavement afterwards,” he reads, confusing Buck. “In the mid-1950s a unit was invented where two units—”
He lifts his head, eyes blurry with sleep. “What’re you reading?”
Tommy pauses. “Your book on sanitation sewers. It’s oddly interesting.”
“Why are you—?”
“Buck!” Jee-Yun’s cheerful voice has him wide awake and jerking up, pressing himself on an elbow and clutching the duvet to him as though terrified she might realise he’s naked beneath it. She beams at him from Tommy’s other side, nestled in the crook of his arm. “Uncle Buck!”
“What?” He looks between her and Tommy. “Huh?”
“She woke up about thirty minutes ago,” Tommy explains, closing the book over his thumb. “I’m not sure what toddlers eat for breakfast so I thought it best to bring her up here until you woke up.”
Buck stares at the two of them: Jee-Yun looks comfortable against the broad bulk of Tommy’s chest, her cheek resting against his ribcage as she yawns and shakes her head, smiling at Buck. And Tommy looks impossibly, wonderfully, achingly good with a toddler pressed up against him.
“Yeah, that’s—that’s good,” he agrees, swallowing. He finally meets Tommy’s eyes, heart pressing hard in his throat at the thought that this could be theirs. Far in the future, of course, but a tantalising possibility. “You’re—er—you’re good with her.”
“She’s not difficult,” Tommy says, and Buck smiles. “Good morning.”
“Hi, yeah, good morning.” He leans in, hand resting on Tommy’s chest, and kisses him, morning breath be damned. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Tommy murmurs.
Buck wants to stay there pressed against his mouth. He would if Jee-Yun wasn’t making noises, demanding his attention. He lets himself fall across Tommy, pressing his face into Jee’s stomach and blowing, her legs kicking as she laughs, high and beautiful.
“And good morning to you,” he grins. “Having fun with Tommy, huh?”
“She’s learning lots.” Tommy rubs the back of Buck’s neck, lazy and familiar. “We both are.”
“You know,” Buck says, picking Jee-Yun up and bringing her against his chest for a morning cuddle. “There are companies that offer sewer tours?”
“Sounds like fun,” Tommy says, grinning at the surprised expression on Buck’s face. “Babe, I’ll follow you anywhere. Even into the sewers.”
And Buck lets go of his caution and plunges headfirst into love.