Chapter Text
"Tommy?"
The insistent knocking on his door had startled Buck, much like anything else these days. He wasn't usually the jumpy kind of guy, but after recent events… every sound felt like danger lurking, and he suddenly couldn't be careful enough in contrast to his typical firefighter instinct of running off all rational thoughts.
He had paused by the door first. Contemplated on whether he should open it or not. It hadn't been that long ago since Maddie had left, and he knew the rest of his team was on shift. The knock came again. Less insistent this time, as if the person on the other side had felt Buck's anxiousness, and it helped. Still on edge, Buck had inhaled slowly, and exhaled in the same pace before opening the door slightly ajar. Just in case.
Tommy had been the very last person he had expected to see upon opening the door.
Tommy looked just as breathless as Buck did in that moment. Looked as surprised, as if he hadn't expected to see Buck. Then tension seemed to seep out of him, and the man looked more relieved with the mixture of concern written all over his face. It was a look Buck had seen before, when Tommy had rushed to the hospital after he had dislocated his shoulder.
Had he rushed here?
"Evan--"
"What are you—"
They speak at the same time, and both stop at the realization, both ducking their heads before Buck opens the door further to invite the unexpected guest into his home.
"You knew my address?" He realizes as Tommy steps inside, eyes never leaving Buck's.
"I got it from Ravi," Tommy says, just as breathlessly as he had uttered Buck's name just a second ago. "I met Colbert from your B-shift at the store on my way home from my shift and he told me what happened. That you—" he let out a shuddered breath. "I- I had to see you. See with my own eyes that you're— that you're not—"
The words dies on his lips, and Buck realizes that he's shaking. Tommy, the ex who had been a constant in his brain since their first met, who he hadn't seen since Bobby's funeral, had come all the way here— no, had rushed all the way from the store the moment he had learned about what had happened.
His brave pilot, who had been so confident flying while being chased by the FBI, was standing there in Buck's hallway. Shaking and on the verge of tears.
For Buck.
And for you.
The words echoes inside Buck's head. A reminder of a truth he had not avoided, but neglected to acknowledge until this very moment when the truth was presenting itself in wordless certainty and in the form of Tommy Kinard.
It's like he's been hit by a truck again. Except, this time the impact doesn't send him flying, but instead something erupts inside of him. A whirlwind of emotions roaming through him and reveals the yearning he's been keeping subdued for far too long.
One look at Tommy, and it's been released. His heart is aching to be near him, his soul longing to be entwined with his, and Buck just wants.
And he's staring, he realizes. Staring at the beautiful man looking back at him and now looking uncertain, as if he's crossed a line.
"I know I don't have the right to just… come here and— I tried to call," Tommy goes on, filling the silence of processing from Buck's end, and it's enough to snap him out of it.
"I-I'm glad you did come here. My phone hasn't been of much use since it got smashed to pieces," Buck says sheepishly. He tries to smile, but even that still hurts, and that doesn't seem to go unnoticed by Tommy.
"Christ, Evan…"
"Y-yeah, I've looked better. Felt better, too," he admits, and then— "I mean it, Tommy. I'm glad you're here." He takes a careful step towards his ex and boldly lifts his hand to cup Tommy's jaw sweetly in reassurance. "A-and I'm okay."
He wasn't okay, but he was here and he was alive, and that seems to be enough to conjure up a noise coming from the depth of Tommy's throat as he nuzzles his face into Buck's palm. "I really want to hold you right now." His voice sounds muffled and heavy and devastated and relieved against the skin of Buck's palm, and Buck knows he's searching for permission, so he doesn't respond with words, but instead steps right into Tommy's space to get engulfed by his arms, and oh.
He had feared being held again after everything that had happened in New Mexico. A sudden noise can send him flying, but a touch feels like being prickled by a thousand thorns embedding into his skin, whether it is a gentle hand on his arm or a reassuring touch of fingertips from his sister. Tommy had searched for his permission, and with Buck giving it to him freely, while longing to be held by his arms again, it feels as home as it feels overwhelming when the senses takes over him. The faint, familiar scent of Tommy's cologne feels nostalgic in a way that makes him think back to when Tommy had had an arm wrapped around Buck and laughed loudly at something Eddie had said back in their early days of dating. He remembers fondly how much he appreciated the scent, and how his laugh had sounded and it sends his heart dancing.
Then it's Tommy's arms. Strong, but ever so mindful of all of Buck's injuries despite not knowing the details. They're warm, too.
What comforts him the most is the sound of Tommy breathing. The way ragged little puffs of air hits the skin of the side of his neck reminds him that Tommy had been scared for him, that he had come all the way here just to know that he was okay.
Even after all this time.
Buck buries his face to Tommy's neck and inhales, and he feels the other man doing the same, as if taking in the moment to make sure it's real. A hand— Buck's hand, grasps the collar of Tommy's shirt gently, as if to keep him there, and Tommy just understands and presses a gentle, lingering kiss onto his birthmark.
"I'm not going anywhere," says his voice, rough and muffled and Buck smiles and pulls away, his hand remaining on Tommy's collar.
"You came all the way here," he says in awe.
"Not by helicopter, I'm afraid." Buck's smile widens, despite the pain, because, oh, how he'd missed him and his typical dead-pan humor.
Tommy delivered on his statement. He did not go anywhere that night. He stayed, and Buck made tea and they sat on the couch and talked until late became early and Tommy brought in the duffel bag that was still in his truck from his shift so he could spend the night.
They didn't talk about them, but they caught up on all the things that had happened in their lives. Buck learned that Tommy had started remodeling his kitchen, and Buck in turn told him about his baking habits and about the Stich and Bitch club he attended every so often. Intrigued, Tommy smiled widely at this and prompted Buck to tell him more. So Buck did.
They slipped into bed wordlessly after a few hours of cold, forgotten tea and knees knocking against each other where they'd been sitting facing each other on the couch. Tommy took the same side of the bed he always had back at the loft, almost like a habit of his. Neither said a word as they slipped under the covers, but he could swear he'd heard Tommy's breath hitch as he changed into something comfortable to wear for bed where his bandage and more yellowing bruises were revealed. He didn't say anything. Just wordlessly opened his arms to invite Buck right into them, right where Buck felt safe.
So Buck indulges, of course. Carefully shuffles his way into his space and buries his nose to the nape of his neck and inhales as he slips an arm around Tommy's waist to ensure himself that he was really here.That this isn't a dream or something he's conjured up like some kind of manifestation of want.
It doesn't take away from the fact that he is having a hard time falling asleep, or that he is afraid to fall asleep. Because what if he wakes up there again? In a bed of a stranger's home, dressed in a strangers pajamas?
The thought of someone removing his clothes and dressing him in new ones while he was unconscious makes his skin crawl. Makes his body tense in a way that startles Tommy awake, because he has fallen asleep at some point. It doesn't surprise Buck, since he had been on his way home from a shift and had been awake for hours up until they had gone to bed.
"Can't sleep?" Tommy's voice is heavy with sleepiness, and yet filled with so much fondness and concern that Buck feels close to tears.
"Haven't been able to for a while," he confesses. Tommy hums sleepily and caresses Buck's bruised face with so much tenderness.
"Anything I can do?"
Buck closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy the touch for a brief moment. "Just be here." His words comes out in a whispering plea, followed by a sniffle. It earns him a lingering kiss on his forehead.
"Of course."