9-1-1
(Closed, Moderated, Unrevealed)
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“I feel like I should have made it clear to you that this was my first time dating a guy. It’s not really fair to make you my gay experiment.”
Tommy snorted out a laugh, and that shocked Buck so much that he unwittingly met the other man’s eyes, which were crinkled around the corners, and Tommy was smiling. Which was very much not the reaction that Buck had been expecting.
“Well, someone has to be your gay experiment,” Tommy pointed out. “Otherwise how will you ever know if you like it?”
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“I don’t even know what I’m doing here, actually,” Tommy murmurs, looking around the aisle. He picks up a box of lemon chiffon and then puts it right back on the shelf.
“You love cake,” Buck reminds him. “All kinds of cake, but I’ve noticed that chocolate is your favorite. I was going to bake you one for your birthday. Four layers, buttercream filling, ganache—the works. Asshole.”
“You’re a lot meaner in dreams than in real life,” Tommy observes.
After the breakup, Buck and Tommy meet in their dreams.
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Tommy remained silent for the entire ride home, and when they were stopped at a red light, Buck glanced over and saw that he had propped his elbow on the door in order to cover his eyes with one hand. Light sensitivity, Buck told himself. A common concussion symptom. Tommy definitely wouldn’t be crying in Buck’s truck right now. Not unflappable, confident Tommy.
There was something going on with him—something more than being shaken up by an accident.
Three weeks after their disastrous post-breakup hookup, Buck gets an unexpected call from Tommy.
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Tommy gets injured and while high on painkillers, confesses how much he loves Buck to Eddie. Eddie is a little shit about it
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It was not supposed to go like this.
Tommy is stretched out on a– too stiff, too crinkly, too small– ER cot. The lights dimmed to help ease the blooming headache radiating from the soon-to-be beautifully colored goose's egg on his forehead. He winces as he presses an ice pack to it and tries to settle enough to maybe get a little rest, before the storm rolls in along with his emergency contact he is certain the nurse called regardless of his insistence that he was fine; reflecting on the series of unfortunate events that led him to this moment…
…and how it is actually one hundred percent Sal fucking Deluca’s fault.
written for the BuckTommy Zine! <3