Thomas Kinard, Stand Up!

i found this video again and i’m gonna need a few days to process

anyways lou should post again today. as a treat

i love you tommy

there's a fire in my ribs, you feel it when we kiss

Look. At this. Clown. And all the little baby clowns that worship him.

This is embarrassing for multiple reasons...

1. As a "fan run" news account you are failing. A news account like what you "run" Trenton, should always be neutral, because when your faithful followers finally realize you've been baiting them all this time... T... it's going to hit you hard. This is why I personally recommend anyone who actually likes information that's not biased, to follow @911bts

2. Anyone... ANYONE who understands these characters and this show should also understand that there is absolutely NO WAY jealous, gay Eddie is happening. That article suggests that Eddie is nothing but the sad, lonely third wheel. And fair... the dude has driven away pretty much everyone in his life.

3. It says Eddie is in MOURNING over Christopher leaving. There is no time in Eddie's life right now to be jealous on any romantic level whatsoever.

4. "Now it's time to figure out who the hell he is." <- this does not mean his sexuality. Eddie had always been something for everyone else and I truly believe that's why he can easily fall into being a somewhat messy friend to Buck... because Buck doesn't need Eddie to be anything other than his friend.

In short. Yall are playing yourselves and I'm flabbergasted you can't see it.

His eyes aren't the right shade of blue, but he opens up for Buck like a dream, lips wide and wet and -

"Fuck," Buck says, and when he digs his hand in the man's - Henry? Harry? - hair it's too fine, too straight.

Henry-Harry hums around him and Buck sort of just wants to fuck his face but that's rude, that's so fucking rude, he doesn't even remember the guys name -

Henry-Harry swallows and Buck's hips jut forward, but the lines around his eyes aren't groove-deep and heavy with warmth.

"Hank," Buck says, and the man's eyes dart up, his brow raises, his lips tip up and his tongue swirls and he never knows that Buck had only just remembered his name seconds before he came.

---

The date goes... fine. Kelsey is sweet and delicate and when her hand scratches at his stubble the tips of her fingers don't catch - soft, smooth, the hands of someone who spends eight hours a day behind a keyboard. She kisses like a dream, but the angle is all wrong.

She fucks like a dream too, but afterwards, when Buck shifts to curl around her she rolls her shoulder and gives him a confused look and Buck remembers that she's more than a foot shorter than him and her shoulders aren't really wide enough for -

Buck rolls and tucks her head under his chin and he thinks Tommy Kinard didn't really know shit about firsts and lasts.

---

The music is loud and the beat is heavy and the man with a thigh between Buck's legs is dark - twisting dreads that catch silver in the strobe light, deep brown skin, cheekbones Buck would break an ankle for.

Buck considers asking him if he wants to take this somewhere more private. Buck considers asking him if he wants to come home with him. Buck considers the heft of the thigh between his legs and remembers the first time Tommy had gotten him off, dick barely even out of his jeans because they'd been grinding like horny teenagers and -

His voice is deep and low when he tips his head to whisper in Buck's ear, the tenor all wrong.

Buck lets him tangle their fingers together as he heads towards the single stall bathrooms down the hall

---

"Ex... boyfriend?" Heather asks, and there's a wrinkle around the shape of her mouth that sets Buck's teeth on edge, because hadn't the whole point of this been that Buck needed to play the field? He likes men. He likes women. He can't pick a number on the Kinsey scale because all he can think about is -

"I'm bi," Buck says, and her expression withers. That seems to be the default - men think he's waiting for the woman who will give him a picture perfect family, women think he's - "It was right there at the top of my profile. With a flag and everything."

Her nose scrunches. She's trying to play it off. She's clearly not one of the women who think it's hot. "Sometimes men do that just to like, seem less intimidating."

Buck's already reaching for his wallet. "And sometimes men just like dick as much as -."

Her hand draws over her heart and it reminds Buck of his mom and not in the teasing way he'd always told Tommy the same thing.

He apologizes to his server and hands her a twenty in his way out the door.

---

Jack is two weeks younger than Buck to the day.

He's beautiful. Auburn hair trimmed neatly, cow-brown eyes, a sharp jawline and scruff that never seems to go past six-pm shadow. He's sweet - not a mean bone in his body, and the first time he hangs out with Buck and Eddie he shoots Eddie a shocked look when he pokes fun at Buck.

He lasts two and a half months.

But Buck knows the game now. Buck isn't looking for forever. Buck is -

Buck is Buck. That's what he'd said in the end, anyway.

"I'm really sorry, Jack," Buck says, fingers drifting from their hold between Jack's.

Jack's smile is just a little sad, but far too understanding. "Hey, I've been an in-betweener before. It was fun while it lasted."

---

Either Tommy's blocked his number or he's really fucking good at swiping out of his notification previews.

Buck thinks about leaving a really shitty, incredibly mean hearted voicemail instead.

You're a coward sits Delivered for three months

---

Ashley's a nurse, and when she admits she's only ever dated women before Buck feels the sting of it, but he smiles all the same. He's chasing a feeling he hasn't been able to find since -

She stares at the sparse decoration of his loft and doesn't say a word.

"So, like -." Buck starts, but she tangles her fingers in his shirt and presses her lips to his and Buck realizes the stupidly large box of condoms he'd bought for his sex-a-thon the first four off after he'd finally convinced Tommy to fuck him is almost out.

Buck spends half an hour with his head between her legs before the tug in his curls gets insistent, and Buck tries not to think, for a while

---

"You're a firefighter?" Travis asks, head tilted excitedly, eyes on the LAFD tee hanging half out of his laundry basket. "Have you ever worked with the guys at Harbor?"

Five and a half months - nearly as long as they'd been together - and Buck considers asking Travis to leave instead of answering. He's got a heart shaped face and Buck can't detect a wrinkle on him. No smile lines around his eyes.

"Flew into a hurricane with them once."

Buck's not sure they ever left the eye.

---

Maddie gives birth on a Thursday. Miraculously they're all off shift except Eddie.

They name his nephew John Evan Buckley-Han and Buck spends an hour watching him sleep before he remembers exactly how long it's been since he'd last heard his name.

---

you haven't though, Buck sends, while Eddie presses him into the Uber and makes Buck promise to text him when he's home.

All the messages in the thread above have a Read receipt.

The dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Haven't what?

seen me around, Buck sends back, and it shows as Delivered long after his Uber drops him off and he shoots off a message to Eddie once he's collapsed in bed. He's gonna regret that last shot in the morning.

He should have gone home with the redhead instead of letting Eddie convince him to stay and play another round of darts.

---

Greg presses a kiss to Buck's birthmark and Buck politely peels himself off Greg's very nice mattress and tugs on his briefs. "Here for a good time, not a long time, huh?" Greg asks, and Buck remembers that this had always been unsatisfying.

He thought he'd found something he could build on. Turns out he wasn't making shit.

"Sorry kid," he says, sparing a glance at Greg's slim shoulders and the washboard abs that he'd make it his mission to look a little less dehydrated, if this were something serious. Maybe some lasagna in the freezer, the gnocchi he'd learned to make once Tommy got tired of flicking flour in Buck's hair.

"I'm like, five years younger than you."

Buck's already searching for the shirt Greg has tossed off the side of the bed half an hour ago.

---

Did you want me to?

Buck stares at the message for a full five minutes. Glares at it, really.

No, he lies, and leaves it at that.

---

He's not even at work when it happens. He's on a fucking date, and the television over the bar switches to a breaking news story about a helicopter crashing just off the 405.

Whatever Yarrow is saying to him gets lost when he sees the numbers dashed across the side of the hunk of smoldering metal that had once been an LAFD chopper.

---

Bobby meets him at the bay doors.

Eddie's already there too.

It's not good news. It's not bad news, either.

Buck only met Tommy's captain once, and he can see now that there were cracks, walls Buck hadn't realized he hadn't yet climbed, but she recognizes him and pulls him off to the side.

"Do you not answer your phone, Buckley?"

He's got six missed calls. The moment he'd texted the group chat and left Yarrow with the tab for the terrible IPA he'd gotten a taste for in those six months when the future had been clearer, he'd forgotten phones actually existed.

"I - sorry, were you trying to reach me?"

"You're listed as his ICE, Buckley."

Buck can't remember them ever even having that conversation.

"He'll survive," she says, voice firm, eyes unyielding. "You can't wring his neck about it until he's out of the woods, and he's a glutton for punishment."

---

"I have some things to say," Buck says, and Tommy eyes him warily from the bed where he's propped. They'd only pulled tubes ten minutes ago, and technically Tommy isn't allowed to speak for a bit. "We're gonna circle back around to the fact that you made me your in case of after you broke up with me once you can talk, so don't forget that."

He looks - guilty. Annoyed. Clears his throat and winces, scowls when Buck hands him the cup of ice chips but still uses two meaty fingers to grab a handful that he tosses into his mouth and chews. Loudly.

Buck leans back in his chair and stares at the cast on Tommy's leg, the bruising around his eyes, the flat mess of his curls.

"And if you call me Buck again I'm telling Angie you asked to have the morphine drip removed." It's a joke, and a lame one at that, but Tommy's eyes twinkle.

---

It's almost a year to the day when Tommy snags his wrist and reels him in for a kiss, hand palming Buck's ass as he noses at Buck's cheek and nearly trips over the last of the boxes Buck had gotten distracted from moving out of the hallway.

"You have too much shit," Tommy tells him, and Buck mostly thinks he's pissed that he still hasn't fully regained the muscle mass in his leg yet. He's lopsided and a little clumsy but every time Buck brings it up he inevitably ends up with a video of himself slipping all over an ice rink in the group chat, so he keeps it to himself.

"You love it."

Tommy's eyes soften when Buck runs a hand through his curls, the grooves of his smile just right. "I tolerate it. You, though..."

Buck isn't ashamed to admit he still feels butterflies every time Tommy says it.

"You I don't mind."

Buck scowls just to watch Tommy's face brighten mischievously. The hands around his waist are wide and strong and the finger pads catch in the worn cotton.

Okay, so this is a little inspired by @dazzle02's post right here. Enjoy! 🥰

"Let me move in with you," said Evan.

And.

And Tommy looked up at Evan.

Blinking.

There wasn't anything particularly special about tonight. Neither of them had that bad of a shift the day before, all things considered. It was after dinner. They were both in pajamas watching Shark Week. Besides Shark Week, there wasn't anything life-altering or important that would have made Tommy remember this lazy Thursday night.

But then again, something amazing always happened with Evan around.

Life-altering was Evan's modus operandi.

They met when Tommy was flying them into a hurricane. They got together after Evan maimed one of his best friends. Their second official date was at a last-minute hospital wedding when the original wedding had been canceled.

Dating Evan was nothing Tommy had ever experienced before.

And Tommy never wanted to stop.

"What?" Tommy laughed, not sure if he heard that right.

He was staring up at Evan. His head was in Evan's lap and Evan just - he kept playing with the curls in Tommy's hair; staring down at Tommy like he never wanted to look away from Tommy as he said, "Let me move in with you."

And it harkened back to that beer Evan still owed Tommy.

That Tommy was never going to let Evan give him. No, Tommy loved the idea of still being tied like that. To forever joke about the beer Evan still owed him.

"You want to move in with me?" asked Tommy.

And it wasn't that Tommy was against it. The moment Evan brought it up, all Tommy wanted to say was yes, yes, of course, Evan, yes.

But.

They had only been dating maybe four months at this point. Tommy wasn't against the breakneck pace Evan seemed the most comfortable in, but at the same time, that was a big decision. And that wasn't to say that Tommy didn't believe that Evan would want this, but it was always good to be absolutely sure.

"You've got a kickass garage. You've got the best beer in town. I heard a beast lives here. Why wouldn't I want to too?" asked Evan.

"Evan."

"Tommy."

Tommy snorted.

"Tommy, I hate my loft. I hate my fucking loft. I got it with my girlfriend Aly because she liked it, and then she almost immediately broke up with me. I haven't been able to decide on a damn couch in that place. I don't know why I have two balconies," said Evan, "But none of that is even why I'm offering this."

Tommy laughed.

"Offering?"

"Tommy, I - I miss you," said Evan with all his heart; a little broken.

Tommy reached out; placed a hand on Evan's cheek.

"Evan. I'm right here," said Tommy softly.

"I miss you when I wake up and you hadn't slept over. I miss you when I try out a new dish and you're not there to taste-test it. I miss seeing you just randomly reading Chef's Choice or The Dos and Donuts of Love or - or How to Find a Princess or Better Than People or The State of Us on your couch whenever I walk into your house with the key you gave me. I miss the lavender you insist on making your house smell like. I miss you when I get in my car and realize we won't be carpooling. That you won't insist on driving and I won't get to play you music as we start our drive early so we can take a scenic way to my work or yours. I just miss you. All the time. I want to fucking live in your pocket. Which is a lot. I know. But I want that. I want you. And I'm so sure you want that too."

And.

And okay, if they were being honest.

"Evan, I - I wake up and it feels empty if you're not here. If you're not sprawled on top of me when I wake up. If you're not laughing and insisting that we take a shower together. That if we do, we'll be saving water. Despite the fact that you know full well that it takes double the time with how distracted we get. I miss you when I walk up to my coffee maker and you're not there to play the 'guess how Tommy takes his coffee' game that I think you're failing on purpose at this point - "

"No, I'm not," said Evan like a liar.

"Oh, I know you are," laughed Tommy, "But I kind of love that because it's still fun. And I miss you when you're not there to get into my Mustang with that jerry-rigged contraption of yours that somehow forces Bluetooth to work on my stereo. And how you keep showing me all these new and amazing songs I never would have dreamed of finding on my own."

"People are sleeping on Kehlani," said Evan.

"Yeah. I know," agreed Tommy, "And - and I miss you when I don't get to kiss you goodbye and hear you say you'll see me after your shift. And I miss you when you're not there to pick me up or if I'm not there to pick you up and you kiss me hello and ask how my day was and tell me all about yours. And I'm not saying we need to be glued together. But I am saying that every moment I get with you makes my whole day better. My week. My month. My year. My life. And, uh. I don't know, maybe you owe me moving into my house."

Evan laughed.

"Oh, I owe you now, huh?"

"I mean, you offered. Pay up. Move in."

Evan laughed harder, leaning down to kiss Tommy. And it was an awkward angle, and the kiss was a bit messy, but it left Tommy breathless; left Tommy swimming in overwhelming yes.

"Okay. I guess I'm moving in," said Evan happily, his smile soft and so excited.

"Yeah, you are," said Tommy as he pulled Evan back into another mind-blowing kiss.

LOU/ROCKER SAYING BLUEBERRIES!!! a win for the blouberries 😗😗😗