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I don't mind a detour (as long as I still get to be yours)

Summary:

Tommy shows up for Buck, once again. Buck finally tells him how he feels.

Notes:

just a lil something to write through the block lol saw a prompt on tumblr and this happened

Title from detour by Maren Morris

Enjoy ❤️

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Buck's not sure how exactly it happened, but Tommy's in his kitchen. And it almost feels like it used to. Except… well, everything is different.

Heavy silence hangs over them, all the things they said and didn't say almost palpable in the air. Buck's sitting at the table, a glass of cold water in front of him. Tommy's doing the dishes. Buck doesn't remember having any dishes in the sink. Well, Tommy always needs to find something to do with his hands when he's nervous or restless, Buck wouldn't be surprised if he pulled those out of the dishwasher to do by hand. He almost smiles at the thought. Tommy seems so cool but those little quirks were what Buck always adored the most.

He takes a long, deep breath. Then another. He's pretty sure he had a panic attack. He's not really sure what triggered it exactly, he remembers thinking about Bobby, and the next thing he knew, he was curled up on the floor, sobbing, and Tommy's comforting hands were on him. He was so confused when he saw him, but immediately threw himself into his arms. Tommy helped him calm down, and then explained that Buck called him — only then Buck vaguely remembered dialing Tommy's number, the whole incident very foggy. It makes sense, he still thinks of Tommy as his person, his safe space, so in a moment of distress, of course he was his first thought. Tommy's always his first thought.

But now here they are, in silence, Buck can still feel the tear streaks on his cheeks, and his eyes sting. He's still trying to get his breathing under control, as his heart still races — he's not sure if that's still the panic attack, though, or if it's just Tommy's presence. Maybe both.

He can't believe Tommy's actually here, in his kitchen, with him.

"Thank you-" Buck suddenly starts, then has to clear his throat. Tommy stills, but doesn't turn to face him. "Thank you for coming. For- for being here."

"Of course," Tommy says quietly, almost a whisper. "You call, I'm there, you know that."

"Tommy, you don't have to- we're broken up, and it's been so long." Buck feels awful. He wants to stop calling Tommy for favors, but what can he do? This time it wasn't even conscious.

"That doesn't change a thing," Tommy says firmly, glancing at Buck over his shoulder. "I'll always be there. Especially when you really need me."

"I-" Buck bites his tongue before he says something stupid like 'I always need you'. "Thank you. I don't know what the hell happened, I've never had a panic attack before, or whatever that was, I don't know why now."

"Grief can do that sometimes." Tommy shrugs, turns off the water, and finally turns around, leans against the sink. "It fucks you up in ways you can't imagine."

"Yeah," Buck whispers, voice raspy. He kind of wants to grab his phone and google 'grief induced panic attacks' just to see if it's actually a thing, or if maybe he should be worrying about something else. But Tommy's here, so he files that away for later. "I don't even know-" he starts, wondering what could've triggered it, but then his gaze lands on the notebook on the counter. Filled with recipes he wrote down every time Bobby was teaching him something. He opened it earlier, wanting to prepare something to eat, something comforting, something Bobby taught him, and saw some notes in Bobby's handwriting, and he's pretty sure he started crying and then had a total meltdown. And then called Tommy. "Oh."

Tommy followed his gaze, understanding dawning on his face.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asks after a beat.

"Better, I think," Buck responds, taking another deep breath. Better now that you're here, is what he actually wants to say. "A little embarrassed, maybe," he half-jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't be," Tommy says seriously. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's been a rough couple of weeks, it's totally understandable. This one won't be easy to get over," he adds, voice gentle and eyes kind, as if he could read Buck's mind.

"Yeah, I know," he sighs, then reaches for the glass and downs it. Silence hangs over them again.

"Are you hungry?" Tommy asks suddenly, probably itching to get his hands busy again. "I can make you a sandwich."

Buck feels nauseous and not the least bit hungry, but he wants Tommy to stay just a while longer, so he accepts.

There's another stretch of silence as Tommy makes the sandwich, and Buck just watches him move around his kitchen like it's his own. He hasn't been here before, but he finds what he needs, quickly figuring out Buck's system — because he knows Buck enough for it all to make sense. It makes something warm bloom in his chest. Before he knows it, he's speaking.

"If I tell you I love you, will you leave again?" He says it quietly, the words just kind of rolling off his tongue. Tommy freezes. "Please, don't. Don't leave, Tommy, please." Buck adds, sounding a little desperate.

"Evan, we can't-"

"Please. I just- I know I have some stuff to figure out and- and get through. I might not be in the right mind to start anything again just yet, but I want to. When I'm ready, when we're both ready, I want to give us another try. Life is short, Tommy, I can't- I don't want to live with regrets. And losing you, letting you walk away, might be the biggest regret in my life."

"You know, I was gonna call you," Tommy says after a moment, turning to face him, and Buck blinks in surprise at the topic shift. "After, um, after that morning," he rubs the back of his neck, a pink tint on his cheeks. "After I had some time to think, I realized I might have overreacted a bit. So I was gonna call you, so we could talk it all out."

"But you didn't," Buck whispers. He's very aware he didn't call Tommy, either, despite wanting nothing more than to hear his voice.

"I didn't," Tommy nods. "I really wanted to, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to hear from me. I was trying to convince myself to call anyway, at least to clear the air and get some closure, maybe," he frowns. He's looking at the floor as he talks, and Buck is dying to get his eyes on him again. "But then you called," he says quietly, and he sounds so wrecked it's surprising.

"Oh." It takes Buck a moment to realize what he's talking about. He kind of feels shitty about it. Tommy wanted to call to have a conversation, give them a chance to say everything they need to without all the emotions of that morning. And then Buck called just to ask for help, for a favor. As if he didn't care about fixing things, and just needed something from Tommy. God, it might be worse than a booty call. He did need help, specifically from Tommy, but there was plenty of time before then where he could've at least texted. He saw that Tommy wanted to, he kept bubbling him, for fuck's sake.

"And when we were in that helicopter," Tommy continued before Buck had a chance to think of anything to say, "running from the government," he huffs out a laugh. It is still pretty insane to think about. "I looked over at you and saw your face," Tommy finally looks up at him and there are tears in his eyes. "God, Evan, you're just so beautiful. You looked so scared but excited, and then you smiled at me, and I decided right then and there that after all this ends, if we don't die or get arrested, I'm for sure gonna call you."

"And then you didn't," Buck says quietly, his voice shaking, knowing what Tommy's about to say next.

"Yeah. Then I didn't. Because then Bobby-" he shakes his head. "I knew you weren't in the place to even think about me, so I figured I'd give you some space. Or maybe that means we're just not meant to be."

"But we are," he frowns. "I believe that we are. And if we're really not," Buck stands up, his legs feel shaky. "Then fuck fate or the universe or whatever else decides this. We can make us meant to be," he says firmly, with determination, and Tommy laughs fondly. He wipes a hand over his eyes.

"Yeah, that's- that was my very roundabout way of saying: you're right, life is short. In our line of work especially, we could die every single say on the job. Or get hit by a car on the way to get coffee or something," he releases another chuckle, then takes a tentative step towards Buck. Buck goes around the table to be closer. "There's no guarantees in life. And I don't want to die with regrets. With never even trying because of my issues. Which I am working on, by the way, and we are gonna talk about it soon. But not tonight," Tommy smiles gently.

"So are you saying…?" Buck trails off, not sure how to finish that sentence. He takes another step towards Tommy.

"I'm saying that I love you, too, Evan," Tommy says, then releases the most beautiful, relieved laugh. "God, I didn't think I'd ever get to say it to you."

"Will you stay tonight?" Buck says quietly. Tommy looks unsure. "Just- I don't want to be alone."

"Okay. Anything you want," he responds, and Buck knows he's genuine. He desperately wants to close the distance between them and kiss Tommy breathless, and then maybe take him to the bedroom and make up for lost time, and then spend all of tomorrow talking to him. But neither of them move. Buck knows it's not a good idea tonight. He's not in a good place, he's really vulnerable, and even though he knows what he wants, he doesn't want Tommy to think he just wants to use him for comfort or something. When they give this another try, he wants there to be no more doubts.

"I really want to kiss you." Buck blurts out. "But I won't."

"Okay," Tommy smiles warmly.

"I will soon. After we talk about everything," he promises. "And it's gonna be our best kiss yet."

"I can't wait," Tommy answers, and after another moment of just staring into each other's eyes, he turns around to finish making the sandwich. Buck finds that he's starting to get hungry, actually. He's starting to feel normal, more or less, whatever normal means. He knows it's gonna be a long road, but for the first time since they lost Bobby, life's starting to look bright again.

So, they're not technically back together yet, and Buck knows there's gonna be a long road to that, a lot of work they need to do to heal, together and separately. Even if it takes a while for them to get there, as long as at the end of the road Tommy's by his side, he can wait. And as he's sitting in his kitchen, opposite Tommy, both eating sandwiches made by his soon-to-be boyfriend-(again), he looks into Tommy's blue sparkling eyes, and he's starting to feel optimistic about the future.

He thinks, eventually, he's going to be okay.

 

Notes:

my tumblr: wikiangela
rebloggable here