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louferrignojr: Beyond a pleasure and a privilege it has been working with the illustrious #PeterKrause both fictionally AND nonfictionally... A consummate professional, with boundless talent, sweet as pie with the kindest of eyes. Captain Bobby Nash will be forever missed but never forgotten! #Petekrause #manmythlegend #RIPBobbyNash #SweetPete #i❤️pete #SeriouslyWhoDoesnt❤️Pete?!
no but buck and tommy waking up together and they have most definitely overslept and they're late late so they pull on their clothes in a rush before practically running out of the apartment so it's not until buck pulls up to the station and everyone starts to (gently) tease him that he discovers that the t-shirt he's wearing has got kinard written in big bold letters across his back and what can he do but duck his head and smile and ignore the way he likes having tommy's name on him like that
Buck getting kissed by Tommy vs Buck kissing Tommy
thinking about that stray curl since the first day I saw her
first kiss (longer version) 911 | bucktommy clips | masterlist
Lou Ferrigno Jr's smile. Reblog if you agree.
me thinking about drunk buck again? shocker
"You know my boyf—mm, no, my ex b’yfrienddd," Buck slurred, pointing vaguely at the man sitting beside him. The guy— some guy named Jake, or maybe Jade... something like that—just nodded like this was the most riveting conversation of his life. "Mmm yes, he is my ex now. Anyway, he was great! No, no, wait, he’s my ex, he’s awful, you see."
The dude hummed in agreement, his lips twitching upward as if he were trying not to laugh. "Seems like it," he said mildly.
Buck squinted not looking at him. "You—you don’t even know him. He’s... complicated. Like, the most annoying person on the planet but also... amazing." He let out a deep, melodramatic sigh and took another sip from his glass. "He does this thing, this... smirk thing, and it’s like—like he knows everything about me, and it drives me insane. Ugh."
"That does sound annoying," the man—Jake said, tilting his head in mock sympathy.
"Right?!" Buck exclaimed, slamming his glass down on the counter. "But then he’d do something stupidly nice like, I don’t know, make me breakfast when I didn’t even ask or fix my stupid shelf that broke because I’m bad at, uh, shelves. And suddenly, I’m like, 'Wow, maybe I’ll just marry this guy.' But noooooo. He had to go and—ugh—be right. About everything."
Jake didn’t say anything, just quirked an eyebrow as Buck kept rambling.
"And now he’s my ex. You heard that part, right? My ex!” Buck hiccuped, slapping his hand over his mouth. "Oops. Sorry. Excuse me."
"Forgiven," Jake said, his tone unreadable. He sipped his drink like this was just another Tuesday.
Buck frowned at him, his drunk brain scrambling for something clever to say. He failed. "You’re very chill, you know that? Like... annoyingly chill. You remind me of him. My ex. I don’t like it. Or maybe I do. I don’t know. Ughhh."
“Must’ve been quite the guy."
Buck sighed, the weight of the world settling onto his shoulders. "He was. He... he really was."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence felt heavy, like it was trying to tell Buck something he couldn’t quite hear. Then he hiccuped again, breaking the spell.
"You’re cool, though," Buck muttered, waving his glass at the guy before tipping it back. "Not like him. But also... kinda like him. Weird."
Jake just smiled faintly, not saying a word.
Buck leaned heavily on the counter, staring at his empty glass like it was the source of all his problems. "You don’t get it. He’s the worst. Like... so smug. Always thinking he knows everything. And you know what? He doesn’t! He doesn’t know me! He doesn’t—hiccup—know what I want. No one does!" He jabbed his finger at the man beside him for emphasis.
Jake, still calm as ever, took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Sounds like a real piece of work."
Buck whipped his head around so fast he nearly fell off the stool. "Whoa, hey! You don’t get to say that," he snapped, his words slurring but his glare surprisingly sharp.
Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Why not? You just said it."
"Yeah, but—" Buck flailed his hands dramatically, nearly knocking his glass off the counter. "I can say it. I dated him. You? You don’t even know him! You’re just some... some random guy!"
"Fair point," Jake said with a shrug, but there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.
Buck narrowed his eyes, his very drunk brain working overtime to keep up. "He’s not that bad, okay? I mean, yeah, he’s annoying and bossy and—" He paused, gesturing vaguely as if the words were just out of reach. "And stubborn. But he’s also, like... thoughtful and—" His voice softened, almost wistful. "Kind. He cared. About me. About everyone. Even when he didn’t say it out loud."
Jake hummed, his tone unreadable. "Doesn’t sound so awful."
"Exactly!" Buck said, throwing his hands up. "That’s what I’m saying! He’s... ugh, he’s the worst best person I’ve ever met. And now he’s gone. And it’s my fault." His voice cracked at the end, and he quickly ducked his head, pretending to study the wood grain of the bar.
"Maybe it’s not your fault," Jake offered, his voice quieter now.
Buck laughed bitterly. "Oh, it is. I mean, I wanted him to stay. I asked him to stay. But he was all, like, 'You’re still figuring yourself out,' and 'I’m your first, not your last.' Like, what does that even mean?!"
Jake’s expression flickered—something Buck couldn’t quite name, not in his current state. "Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing."
"Yeah, well, it wasn’t!" Buck snapped, slamming his hand down on the counter. "It wasn’t the right thing for me. I didn’t want right, I wanted him. And now I’m here, talking to you, and he’s... I don’t even know where he is."
Jake didn’t respond right away, just sat there, his drink untouched. After a moment, he said, "Maybe he’s closer than you think."
Buck frowned, squinting like the words were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. But before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, another hiccup cut him off, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"You’re weird," he mumbled through his fingers. "Why are you even listening to me?"
Jake chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar in a way that tugged at something deep in Buck’s chest. "I guess I’m just a sucker for a good story."
"He is!" Buck said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "He’s—ugh. He’s just this guy, you know? But not just a guy. He’s... he’s smart, and thoughtful, and really good at all the boring, practical stuff I suck at. Like, he can fix anything. He once rebuilt an engine in his garage for fun! Who does that?!" Buck paused, hiccupping before continuing. "And he has this way of looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, even when you’re being a complete idiot. Especially when you’re being a complete idiot. And then, just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he’ll say something so... so him—and it’s exactly what you needed to hear, even if you didn’t want to."
His voice cracked, and he dropped his gaze to his empty glass. "He made me feel like... like maybe I was worth sticking around for, you know? But then he left anyway. So what does that say about me?"
Buck groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "I don’t even know why I’m talking about him. He’s gone, and he probably doesn’t think about me at all anymore."
"Maybe he does," Jake said, his voice calm but carrying a weight Buck couldn’t quite process in his state.
Buck snorted, his head wobbling as he tried to look at Jake. "Nah. He’s too busy being perfect somewhere else. Fixing things, smirking at someone else, probably making them breakfast now." His voice cracked again, and he slumped forward, leaning heavily on the counter. "It’s not fair. I don’t want to miss him, but I do. All the time. Every damn day."
Jake stayed quiet for a moment, swirling the remnants of his drink. "Sounds like you really loved him."
Buck blinked blearily at Jake. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Still do. But it doesn’t matter. He left."
"Maybe he thought you deserved better," Jake murmured, his tone so soft Buck almost missed it.
"Better?" Buck slurred, laughing bitterly. "There’s no better. He was better. He was it. And I messed it up."
Jake leaned back, his eyes studying Buck for a long moment. "Maybe he thought he was the one who messed it up."
Buck frowned at that, the words bouncing around in his drunken mind without fully landing. He opened his mouth to respond, but a yawn caught him off guard, and his head lolled forward slightly.
"Okay," Jake said, standing up and patting Buck’s shoulder. "Let’s get you home before you pass out here."
"I’m not—" Buck started to protest, but his words dissolved into another yawn. "Fine. Whatever. But only ’cause you’re so... so good at listening, Jake."
Jake chuckled, sliding Buck’s arm around his shoulders as he helped him off the stool. "Sure, that’s why."
The trip to the loft was a blur for Buck, his head bobbing as he mumbled fragments of sentences. "He used to—hiccup—used to cook pancakes on Sundays," he muttered as they walked. "Never liked syrup, though. Just butter. Who doesn’t like syrup?"
Jake made a noncommittal noise, holding Buck steady as they reached the loft.
When they reached the loft, Buck fumbled with his keys before Jake gently took them from him and unlocked the door. Inside, Buck stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"Whoa, easy there," Jake said, catching him with an arm around his waist. "We’re not done yet. Bed’s upstairs, right?"
Buck blinked at him, bleary-eyed, before nodding vaguely in the direction of the stairs. "Yeah... stairs. Stupid stairs. Who needs stairs anyway? I should just sleep right here." He sagged slightly, leaning heavily into Jake.
Jake sighed, adjusting Buck’s arm over his shoulders. "Come on, you’re almost there."
They moved toward the stairs, Buck dragging his feet and muttering incomprehensibly. Jake tightened his hold, practically lifting him as they climbed. "You’re heavier than you look, you know that?" Jake muttered under his breath.
"’M not heavy," Buck slurred, his head lolling against Jake’s shoulder. "You’re just... weak. Bet you’ve never carried someone out of a fire or... or something heroic like that."
Jake smirked faintly, his voice low and even. "You’d be surprised."
By the time they reached the top, Buck was practically draped over Jake, who maneuvered him carefully toward the bed. He eased Buck down onto the mattress, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him as Buck flopped back with a groan.
"Finally," Buck mumbled, eyes half-closed. "Hate those stairs. Hate... everything."
Jake crouched down to untie Buck’s shoes, his movements steady and practiced, as though this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. "Don’t worry, I’ve got it from here," he said softly.
Buck blinked down at him, his vision swimming. "You’re... nice," he mumbled. "Too nice. You don’t even... you don’t even know me." He hiccupped, his head lolling to one side. "I mean, you’re here, so you’re not that bad. But… you’re not him."
Jake’s hand stilled for a fraction of a second before he resumed tugging off Buck’s shoes.
"He’d probably—hiccup—he’d probably say I’m too much. Like I push too hard, or I don’t stop to think. But I just… I just try, you know? Maybe I try too much..." Buck’s voice cracked, and he let out a breathy laugh. "And now look. No one’s here."
Jake paused, his jaw tightening as he set the shoes neatly by the bed. He glanced up briefly, something flickering across his face, but Buck didn’t notice.
Jake’s hands moved to unbutton Buck’s jeans, and Buck let out a tired laugh. "I’m not... I’m not that kinda guy, Jake."
Jake snorted softly. "Relax. You’re safe."
He eased the jeans off and set them aside, then reached for Buck’s shirt. Buck swatted weakly at him but barely had the energy to protest. "You’re... too good at this. Bet you’re a pro at babysitting drunk idiots."
"Something like that," Jake murmured, pulling the blanket up and tucking it snugly around Buck’s shoulders. For a moment, his hand lingered on the edge of the blanket, his eyes scanning Buck’s face as if committing him to memory.
Buck stirred, his eyes fluttering half-open. "I miss him," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. His hand flailed clumsily for a second before it landed on Jake’s arm. "Tell him... I miss him."
Jake froze, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Buck. Then he covered Buck’s hand with his own, his thumb brushing against his knuckles for a brief moment. "I’ll tell him," he said softly, even though Buck was already slipping into sleep.
Jake placed a water bottle and some pills on the bedside table, his movements quiet and deliberate. He lingered there for a beat, his gaze heavy with something unspoken.
Leaning down, Jake brushed his fingers lightly through Buck’s curls, his voice low and warm as he whispered, "I don’t even look like a Jake, Evan."
Buck stirred slightly, a faint furrow in his brow, but his eyes stayed closed. Jake Tommy pulled back, hesitating for just a moment before slipping out, leaving the loft in silence.
dressed in complementary colours 🤗🫶🥰
aka the one where Tommy asks Buck to move in
It started a little ridiculously. Buck didn't usually decorate his place for Halloween, but in his excitement over Bobby being back he'd gotten way too much for the firehouse and had a lot left over. So he took some paper bats home and hung them from his ceiling.
That should have been the end of it.
“We've got enough candy for a small army, I'm sure,” Buck said, resting his head on Tommy's chest, a hand softly rubbing over his pec.
“We don't really have any kids that come out to Harbor. A few of the kids whose parents are on shift will stop by, but that's about it.”
“Were you a Halloween fan growing up?” Buck asked, chills running up his spine as Tommy's fingers massaged his scalp.
“Oh yeah. We didn't really have the money to afford costumes, but I'd make stuff from old sheets or clothes that didn't fit me anymore. There was one year where-” Tommy stopped suddenly, and Buck looked up at him to see him staring out over the loft. “Are your bats animatronic?” he asked.
Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
Tommy nodded his head in their direction. “They're moving.”
“Oh,” Buck glanced back briefly. “Probably the air coming on. Makes them swing sometimes.”
Tommy halfway settled back into the bed, but it didn't last very long, because soon enough one of those “decorations” started flying directly into the bedroom. Then there was another, and another.
“Evan, you have bats!” Tommy exclaimed.
“I- oh my God, I have bats!”
Ironically, Tommy did not love all things that flew. Buck had known this since they went to the zoo two months into their relationship and ventured into the butterfly exhibit. That's when he saw Tommy dripping with sweat, barely taking a breath and clutching Buck's hand until he asked what was wrong.
And now, watching a 6'2 man made mostly out of muscle race to put on a shirt and shorts, foregoing underwear completely, so he could duck out of the loft with a yelp was truly fascinating.
The fact that he only stopped briefly to give Buck a kiss and tell him to grab his things and meet him at his place was the icing on the cake.
That man was inside me twenty minutes ago, Buck thought, a baby bat swooping above him. He felt nothing but pride.
Within an hour, he was bringing a suitcase and work duffel into Tommy's place. Tommy, on his part, had emptied him two extra drawers to go along with the one he already had there. He'd made space for him in the bathroom as well, and cleared a section of the kitchen counter because, “I figured you'd bring some of your cooking stuff with you.”
He wasn't wrong.
It took a few weeks for the bat issue to be resolved, due to the fact that Buck's landlord was out of town and no one else seemed to know what to do.
Once the place had been cleared of the bats, it took extra time for Buck to be able to air out his place and clean the droppings that had been so graciously left behind.
It didn't help that he had a pretty busy schedule, taking extra shifts before he knew he'd have a bat problem.
Eventually, Buck ran out of reasons to keep himself at Tommy's place.
One morning, as he got ready for his 24 and Tommy got ready for his 48, he decided it was time. “I think my place is now free and clear of everything the bats left behind,” he said, pouring coffee into Tommy's travel mug, then swapping it out for his own. “I'll be able to pick up all my stuff after my shift and get out of your hair.”
“Hm," Tommy hummed. "You should just move in here." It was so nonchalant it sounded the same as when he ordered his usual from the taco bar down the street.
Buck froze mid pour. “I- I should what?”
“Move in with me,” he repeated with a shrug, “if you want.” He walked over to Buck and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Think about it, Babe. I gotta go. Love you.”
“Yeah, I- I... I love you too.”
Tommy grabbed his mug off the counter and headed out the door, leaving Buck feeling like a deer in headlights.
Part of him wanted to chase Tommy out the door and ask, “How dare you ask so casually?!” The other part was eternally grateful Tommy exited briskly and gave him time to think it over.
Because, wasn't it too soon? He'd only ever done this moving in together thing one other time, and that wasn't exactly for a good reason.
They'd only said I love you for the last couple months. The words still sounded new, still made his heart swell every time they came out of Tommy's mouth. Still blushed when he said it back.
And did Tommy actually mean it? He did have a dry sense of humor that was sometimes easy to miss. Maybe this was one of those times. It was just a joke and he was meant to brush it off with a laugh.
He wasn't sure how long he actually stood there with a half filled mug of coffee in front of him, but eventually his phone dinged and pulled him out of his thoughts.
Stop panicking. Yes, I meant it. Seriously, just think about it.
Buck rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that rose on his face.
Hate you. Be safe.
He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.
Love you too. You be safer.
*****
“I'm kind of freaking out,” Buck said as Maddie grabbed her lunch from the fridge.
“Why are you freaking out?”
“Tommy asked me to move in with him.”
She paused briefly, eyebrows going up as she stood at the counter. “Really?”
“Yeah, yeah. Wh- Why really? You think it's too soon, don't you? It's too soon. That's what I thought when he asked, well suggested is more like it. He suggested I move in, and then told me to think about it, and then he left for work and then I left for work. And he told me not to panic and that he actually meant it, but-”
“Buck, I didn't mean anything by my really,” she interrupted, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Honestly, I figured that was gonna happen once you stayed with him during the whole bat thing.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised. “I- I mean, you did?”
“You already spend more time at his place than your own. The bats were taken care of, what, almost a week ago?”
“Yeah.”
“And how many nights have you stayed at your place since then?”
“Well... Well, I had to work a couple of those days,” he tried to reason, “and then it made more sense to go to his place because we wanted to see each other but we were both tired from work.”
“You don't have to explain yourself, Buck,” she assured him. “I'm only saying it's not actually all that surprising.”
When Buck didn't look any more relieved than when he'd come into the call center, Maddie continued, “Have you made a pro/con list?”
He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and laid it on the countertop for Maddie to take. “Of course I did.”
She picked it up and read it over. “Great butt is number three? Did not need to know that.”
“It- It's a very detailed list,” he replied seriously.
“I can see that,” she agreed. “Although I can't help but notice there are no actual cons on this list.” She slid the paper back to him.
“That's why I'm freaking out.”
“Is this a bi crisis?” Josh asked, walking into the break room. “Because, if so, I feel like I should be involved. Also, I've been listening and I have something to say. May I?”
Buck nodded his head, resting his hands on the countertop. “Please. I- I could use all the help I can get.”
“Great. First of all, why are you trying to talk yourself out of it?”
“Because... Because, seven months ago I didn't even know I was bi, and then there was Tommy. And it's been great. He's funny, and kind, and he listens, and he's so hot-"
"Okay," Maddie waved for him to move on.
"Even when we argued, you know, we stuck around and worked it out. It's the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. It's the happiest relationship I've ever been in.”
“God, this sounds awful,” Josh deadpanned.
“Yeah, listen, Buck, if you don't want him I'll take him,” Maddie added with a smile. “I don't think Howie would mind.”
Buck grinned. “I'm just saying, it all seems so fast. I keep trying to think of reasons to say no, or wait a few more months, but I- I can't.”
“Okay, maybe you can't think of a reason to say no, because there's no good reason to say no,” Josh replied. “How's it been staying with him while the bats took over your place?”
“It's... It's been great. I thought there would be a big adjustment, but there really wasn't. He hasn't seemed bothered by my stuff being there, and it's been nice having someone to, ya know, come home to,” he added, a blush rising on his cheeks.
“Have you had any of the big conversations yet?” Maddie asked. “You know, kids, marriage, stuff like that?”
“Mhm. We agree on everything.”
Josh glanced at Maddie before replying. “I really don't see the problem here, Buck.”
“You don't think it's too soon?”
“I think,” Josh sighed. “I think life is really short, which you probably know better than anybody. And if Tommy makes you as happy as it sounds like he does, then you're the only one stopping you from that happiness.”
Buck rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a deep breath. “Sometimes, I still feel like a fraud,” he admitted. “Like it all came too easy. You know, I- I've heard how rough it was for Tommy to come out and all the crap he went through for years. I figure out I like guys and get a boyfriend in the same day, six months later he's asking me to move in and I can picture my entire life with him.”
“I think that's your brain messing with you,” Josh said. “Because to me, it sounds like you've had thirty-three years of searching for something that feels real, and good, and settled. And you've found it with Tommy.”
Maddie nodded. “I agree. He's good to you, Evan. Everyone can see you two love each other. I can honestly say I've never seen you happier or more sure of yourself. You don't need to doubt that. You need to let yourself have a win.”
A smile started to grow on Buck's face. He was pretty sure he'd already made up his mind, but there was still one thing that worried him. “What if it doesn't work out?”
“Then you do the opposite of what you're about to do,” Josh answered simply, “and you move back out.”
*****
Tommy already knew Buck was at his place before he got inside. The giant Jeep in his driveway was always a dead giveaway.
Half of him expected Buck's things to be neatly packed up by the door, ready to move back into his loft until his lease was officially up.
The other half expected him to be sitting on the couch with a downcast look on his face that said I'm not ready to move in with you without having to actually say it.
What he didn't expect was the door to swing back on him due to it slamming into boxes.
Once he managed to hold the door open and scoot inside, he looked around at well over twenty boxes that were littered around the entryway of his place, leading into the living room.
“Evan?” he called out, a smile already on his face.
“Here!” he exclaimed, exiting Tommy's bedroom and hurrying down the hall. “Here, I'm here! So-” Buck paused briefly to give Tommy a peck on the lips, then continued through the maze of boxes as he headed for the kitchen, Tommy following behind. “This isn't everything, obviously, but I don't actually think I'll be bringing all that much from my place. The bats pooped on a lot. Like, a whole lot. Plus, I like your furniture. The kitchen will have to have some new appliances, but I already ordered what the bats, you know, pooped on. You need to let me know what appliances have a family history for you- if that's a thing- before I throw them out. Some of this stuff is, well, it's terrible. Why don't you sharpen your knives, Tommy? Mind blowing. I know the boxes are kinda a mess, but I didn't want to unpack without you because that feels like me just taking over, ya know, and I don't wanna-”
Buck was stopped by Tommy grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him in close. He wrapped his arms around Buck's waist, and Buck's arms rested over Tommy's shoulders.
“I'm guessing this is a yes to moving in?” Tommy asked, nose scrunching up in a smile.
Buck let out a deep breath, grinning back. “Yes. It- It's a yes.”
“You didn't freak out too much?”
“I didn't freak out at all,” Buck protested weakly.
“Evan.”
“Okay, I freaked out a little,” he replied, ducking his head, “but not for the reasons you think.”
Tommy tilted Buck's chin so their eyes met. “What reasons?”
“I... The fact there wasn't a reason to say no. I- I freaked because it felt like it should feel too soon, but it didn't. It doesn't. It feels right.”
That's when Tommy leaned in for a kiss far less chaste than the one Buck had given him when he opened the door.
“Do we have to start unpacking tonight?” Tommy asked when they parted, resting their foreheads against one another.
Buck shook his head. He brought his hands to the nape of Tommy's neck and drew him in again, his tongue parting Tommy's lips. Clumsily, they began making their way toward their bedroom without letting one another go.
“Maybe we could work on christening the place then?” Tommy suggested, his nose brushing up against Buck's cheek. “For good luck or whatever.”
“Mmm,” Buck moaned, grabbing at the hem of Tommy's shirt and pulling it over his head quickly, tossing it on top of a box. “You have the best ideas, roomie.”
Tommy snorted at that, his head tossing back in laughter. “God, I love you.”
Somehow, they managed to make it to the bedroom, and Buck gently pushed Tommy down before crawling over him, leaning down to whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”
TOMMY KINARD and EVAN BUCKLEY 9-1-1 (2018-) 8.05