Chapter Text
The car ride was nice, as every late night car ride was with the Reece family. The music was quiet enough to serve as a lullaby, and it was accompanied by the droning buzz of the air conditioning. Bev had planted his hand very firmly on his husband’s thigh, while the other held onto the steering wheel. Stevie let their eyes grow heavy while their thumb rubbed at their husband’s hand.
There was something else, though. A feeling lingered in the air, tingling between the connection of the two lovers. It smelled like… the woods and vanilla, and it felt like a big, enveloping hug. It was… big, but so subtle between the married couple that it seemed difficult to put it into words.
The couple never disconnected as they worked their way into their apartment building and into their room. Hands holding hands, fingers running through hair, legs brushing… it was practically impossible for the couple to stay apart, especially when one of them was so exhausted that they needed to be carried by their husband at all times.
Stevie kept himself up by the walls of their apartment as Bev stripped himself of his jacket and shirt, getting a head start on their night-time routine. The paramedic leaned against their kitchen counter, eyes heavy and head light with the festivities that they had left 30 minutes prior. The sound of rushing water from their shared bathroom brought a smile to his face; just another reminder that he was living with his favorite person in the entire world.
Their favorite person who always did his best to bring them out of their shell.
It had been so long since Stevie had actually been out with so many of his friends. They were content with grabbing a coffee every blue moon with 2, maybe 3 people that were stationed with him, or even late dinner runs with fellow paramedics during times he worked at random hospitals. Stevie only went out with Bev and Bev’s friends, and they were perfectly content with that. It was only when whispers met his ears that there was going to be some big get-together for all the stations that the contentment he always had… began cracking.
It only took one pout and one sigh while looking at a photo of old friends Stevie had made for Bev to grab his husband by their shoulders and tell them, “We are going out!” It was so sweet Stevie didn’t know what to do with themselves.
The night was fun, a lot more fun than just staying home or working an extra shift (God forbid). He felt so giddy being able to scan his eyes over a room and see that practically everyone there was in good relations with them. Of course, there were some outliers, but nothing terrible, or at least nothing Stevie Reece couldn’t handle.
There was one man that stood out, however. One man that had positively shocked Stevie the longer they were there.
Tommy Kinard had certainly not been the nicest guy to Stevie during his time at the 118 the first time around. According to Chimney, he was a lot better than he could have been, but he still wasn’t nice. The mistreatment had not permanently changed Stevie, but working under Captain Garrard forced the paramedic to develop a thicker skin than he’d like. Tommy had just been one of the ‘boys’ — one of Captain Gerrard’s lapdogs who guffawed at every joke of his or acted like Stevie was some ghost haunting the 118.
By Stevie’s second time at the 118, Bobby Nash had taken over and Tommy seemed like a much kinder person, but that didn’t stop them from being on edge — or Bev from making sure if there needed to be backup, the 118 and Stevie were as far away from each other as they could get (only if it could be helped).
So earlier that night, when Stevie saw Tommy again at the bar, laughing and giggling with his friends while the table got shot after shot — it twisted his stomach into knots. Tommy had apologized in the sweetest way — confessed and atoned for his sins, and now Stevie was stuck with the feelings afterwards.
“Hey, hon,” Stevie called out, knowing their voice would pierce the thin walls.
“Yeah, baby?” Bev's voice struck out from their bedroom, or maybe it was their bedroom closet specifically.
The words swirled around hesitantly on Stevie’s tongue. What was he asking here? Was there even a point in asking? To bring it up? Stevie would probably never see Tommy again — conflicting schedules and all.
“Did you have fun tonight?”
Stevie cursed himself for the diversion; what was wrong with him?
There was a bark of laughter, and his husband appeared from around the corner, pajama pants already on. “Baby, that was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”
A smile curled on Stevie’s lips, flowing throughout the kitchen, as he pulled open their fridge and grasped the chilled bottle of whiskey for his love. “I’m glad.” He handed the bottle over while grabbing a glass from their cupboard.
It felt right to reward the man with his favorite poison, since Bev had been such a sweetheart for playing designated driver. “I had a lot of fun, too. It was great seeing everyone again.”
Bev hummed while pouring himself a glass. “You gonna get ready? Or am I gonna have to do it for you?”
Stevie’s face burned, and he pushed at his husband’s chest, hand erupting in flames at the skin-to-skin contact. “You’re ridiculous. You’re not my handler.”
Bev made a funny noise, one of objection, since his occupied mouth made it difficult to say actual words. Stevie passed by his husband, ridding himself of his top and unbuckling his belt to get ready for bed.
His body broke through the entryway of their shared bedroom, and he stopped, heels digging into the hardwood floor. They had to bring it up. If he didn’t now, then it would never happen, and these feelings would just fester and something terrible would happen — Stevie knew it.
Stevie pulled out their belt and spoke through the walls at their husband. “Tommy’s really changed since the last time I saw him.”
There was another bark of laughter, and Stevie’s heart fluttered again. With his boots forgotten at their front door, he wriggled out of his jeans with shaking hands — and shaking legs. His nerves were jelly; his arteries stuttered and left his heart a skipping mess.
“Yeah, a lot nicer,” Bev agreed. “Handsome as hell, too.”
Stevie froze in their bedroom, pants crumpled in a ball in his hands as his husband’s words circled in his head. Of course Bev would say what everyone was thinking, but just because Bev had said what was on everyone’s mind didn’t mean that Stevie didn’t think he was going to have a heart attack.
All the thoughts he had been holding back about the firefighter came loose, the cork popping off of his champagne bottle of torture and terrible thoughts.
Stevie threw his pants on the bed and promptly walked out of the bedroom to stare down his husband.
Bev’s eyes made contact with his, and he gave Stevie a stare full of disbelief and sass. “What?” He asked, leaning against the counter and jutting out his hip.
“I cannot believe you just said that.”
Bev rolled his eyes, setting the glass down on their island counter with a clink! “Honey, you’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me he doesn’t have the 2nd… 3rd prettiest face in the world?” Stevie’s body was beckoning closer and closer to his husband, despite the targeted glare he was giving him. “Only after us, of course.”
“I’m not looking you in the eyes —”
“Because you can’t admit it.”
“Because — I mean, yes, he’s handsome, but you cannot just say things like that.”
Stevie was now standing incredibly close to his husband, who always looked cool as a cucumber. His eyes ran up and down his husband’s incredibly exposed body while a smile curled on his lips. “Baby.” He grabbed the whiskey bottle and glass, maneuvering around the younger brunette. “What’s so wrong? It’s like a celebrity crush. We talk about hot guys all the time — and the occasional drag queen… which may still count.”
Stevie stood there, baffled. He watched Bev move around their kitchen like this wasn’t a crazy conversation to be having. “But, baby, he’s not a celebrity. He’s — he’s — he’s Tommy!” their body was burning up just at the sound of his name; this was an incredibly concerning moment in their life, and if this spiraled into anything more, they’d have to have some very long talks with their therapist.
Bev simply watched from his peripheral while he put away his alcohol, watching his sunshine spiral. “I work with him,” they continued. “There’s a chance I might see him again — ” That wasn’t all that true — “I mean, hell! We’re seeing him Wednesday, sweetheart, we can’t just see Tom Cruise on a random Wednesday!”
“So it’s just a crush.”
The world froze.
Damn his husband.
Was that what it was? A crush? That tingling in their hands and buzzing in their brain, the hotness on their breath and the lightheaded fuzziness surrounding his thoughts coupled with the twisting of their stomach… Was it a crush?
God, he should’ve recognized it.
It’s how he felt the first time he saw Bev — Beverly.
That’s probably how Bev knew; Stevie was half certain Bev could read his mind.
“Because if so, baby…” Bev began rounding the corner to their island counter, opposite Stevie. “I gotta say I agree.” He was staring at Stevie like a predator, like a wild animal.
This wasn’t turning him on, was it?
“It can’t be a crush.”
“Why not?”
Bev was getting closer, and Stevie deeply felt the need to cover up. He should’ve taken at least an extra two seconds to put on some pants, or a damn shirt or something.
“Because…” Stevie felt like this was too big for him, too big for their relationship. He didn’t want this to ruin everything. He didn’t want the best years of his life whisked into some kind of terrible whirlpool of distaste and resentment.
“Because,” Bev took the words out of his mouth, “I’d be lying if I didn’t agree.”
Stevie turned towards his husband, who was now leaning against the cool island. There was a lightness that surrounded them, hugging them in the warm kitchen light they’d turn off soon enough to go to bed.
They had work tomorrow and an entire life to live, but at this moment they were the only two people in the entire world.
And maybe Tommy Kinard was there too. Dozens of miles away from their apartment, but he was there.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking at him, and that I didn’t notice you looking at him, and especially if I said I didn’t notice the way he was looking at us.”
A smile was creeping onto Bev’s lips. He was finding this amusing, and Stevie was freaking out over whether this would ruin their relationship. The words coming out of his husband’s mouth felt… strange, yet comforting.
He couldn’t be serious; he couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. Had Stevie been looking at Tommy in a certain way? Jesus, if it really was such a subconscious thing, this was going to be rough to reckon with.
Bev was sliding his hands into his husband’s, gently dragging him towards their bedroom like a scared animal needing to be coaxed.
“Is this not… weird?” Stevie spoke up, brain barely processing the fact his legs were moving. Bev’s warm and perfect hands ignited a glow in Stevie’s world despite the darkness that cloaked them. It was a sweetness Stevie couldn’t describe, a gentleness akin to the stream of moonlight bleeding in from their blinds. Their stomach fluttered and twisted with the squeezes of comfort his husband gave, his own silent response to Stevie’s question.
Bev shrugged, the backs of his knees hitting the bed. “I don’t think it’s weird. I think feelings like this are completely normal.” He climbed backwards into their bed, keeping his hands locked with Stevie to drag the man across their comforter.
Stevie settled into their bed while he spoke. “But we’re married — we’re supposed to be — ”
“Monogamous?”
Stevie stared at his husband, body warm under the covers and hands sticky with the perspiration on his palms. Stevie could hear the unspoken words perfectly clear: they didn’t have to be monogamous.
“But…” Stevie’s heart was pounding in their ears, eyes surveying their husband. It was maddening how relaxed and collected Bev seemed. Stevie wished partly they could see a little speech bubble containing all of their thoughts — maybe it’d be easier to understand his feelings under that straight-mouthed exterior.
“I’ve only loved you. I think I’ve only ever truly loved you,” the paramedic confessed — but was it really a confession if he had said it millions of times before and thought it a thousand more? The words slipped out of him as they had many times; easily. It was easy to confess something like that to Bev, much easier than the rest of the conversation they were having.
Bev was smiling, his smile lines still apparent even under the fairly heavy layer of scruff resting on his jaw. “And darling, I’ve only ever loved you.”
Bev grabbed at his hands again, ignoring the slickness and opting to give a reassuring squeeze.
Stevie’s eyes darted from their hands, tightly embraced together in a way he’d probably remember forever, back to his husband. Despite the shakiness they felt throughout their bones, wiggling in their veins, and settling in his throat, his chest burned with such ferocious love and graciousness that he barely felt the embarrassment and shame that had gathered inside of him.
“But, there could be a possibility that we… have more… love to go around.”
Stevie’s eyes widened.
“Particularly for one person,” Bev continued quickly, already hearing Stevie’s thoughts in his own.
Their love was theirs… there was no denying, no way to object, no way for that to be unwritten. But perhaps there was an extra space they hadn’t been aware of.
A third seat, a third pillow, a third coffee cup, a third plate that needed to be set, a space right between them in their bed…
“I mean…” Bev spoke up again, rubbing at the shaking muscles in Stevie’s hand. “He had been quite the gentleman to you.”
Stevie smiled, unable to hide the blush that erupted on his cheeks. “He was also so sweet to include you—”
“I know!”
“He could’ve totally ignored you the whole time, I mean—”
“I’m not even in your profession.”
“But he didn’t! He included both of us. It was so sweet.”
It was second nature for the pair to finish each other’s sentences; at this point, it had essentially become their first.
Bev was sitting up, repositioning himself and glowing with a particular vigor that twisted his husband’s stomach.
“Look, baby, we don’t gotta be sure about this. We don’t gotta understand what’s in our hearts right now, but I say we show up to that coffee date — ”
Stevie rolled their eyes, finally letting their husband’s hands go as they got more comfortable in bed. “There’s going to be more people than just us.”
“Okay — we’ll show up to this date with a bunch of third wheels — and we can test the waters there, sound alright?”
Stevie looked up at his husband, staring up at him while the soft glow of their tableside lamp illuminated the back of Bev’s head. They were absolutely sure they had married an angel.
“I think that sounds great.”
Bev’s smile was infectious, a disease Stevie would happily plague himself with. Flowers bloomed and angels sang as Stevie’s husband leaned down and planted the sweetest kiss onto his husband’s lips.