Chapter Text
“I have to break up with you.”
Buck.
Sputtered.
Up until this point, Buck had thought it had been going well with Ali. They had been dating for a solid eight months. They had moved into an apartment together. They were at a fancy restaurant as a surprise date Buck had brought her on after he pulled several double shifts.
Buck thought they were going well.
“Why?” asked Buck, and it felt a bit like the walls were closing in despite them sitting in the outdoor area of the restaurant.
Ali frowned.
“Buck, you’re a great guy, but – but it’s the job. Look. I know you’re risking your life every day. I get that. But seeing you in that hospital. Really knowing that it was an actual possibility… maybe I’m weak. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can date someone worrying if this moment would be our last,” said Ali.
And.
Oh.
Buck had a near-death experience recently on a call; on caught on camera by a local news station rescue. He had talked to Ali about it. It had seemed fine at first.
But.
Shit.
How could Buck fault Ali for not being able to take the idea of a person she loves possibly dying like that?
And.
Buck was having trouble fighting to ask for more.
For her to stay.
For her to know that anyone could die at any moment.
That this could work.
He couldn’t with Ali.
He should have the fight, but he couldn’t muster it for some reason.
In fact, there was a bit of a relief to it.
Why was there a relief to it?
And there was the way Ali looked.
Ali was distraught; her face was filled with guilt and sadness; her shoulders slumped; her hands lying hopelessly on the table. Buck couldn’t push the subject when she seemed so deflated by her own shortcomings.
But.
Buck had to fight for this, right?
It was the longest relationship Buck had.
Ali was a good woman.
They had a good relationship.
Shouldn’t he want this?
“We live together,” said Buck a little hollowly, because he had no clue how they were going to untangle that.
Though.
Ali seemed much calmer about that somehow.
“I, uh. I got my name off the lease already,” said Ali, which was news to Buck, “I’m going to be staying with a friend as I find a new place to live. I actually texted some friends before this to start packing all my things for me.”
That felt quick.
It was whiplash.
It felt a bit like a slap to the face.
“But this was a surprise dinner,” said Buck, a little stunned; feeling a little carved out now, “The incident happened a few days ago.”
“I took advantage of the opportunity,” said Ali, and she sounded a little regretful about the timing more than what she set in motion, “I – I get that this feels sudden. And It’s almost the holiday season. But this is for the best. For both of us. We shouldn’t drag this out if it’s not going to work in the end. And I – I can’t live with the stress of your job. I thought I could. But I can’t. I’m so sorry.”
She did seem sorry.
Despite the efficiency of the breakup, the swiftness, the jarring turn into a brick wall, she did genuinely seem like she hated this too.
It was hard to hate her for it.
Buck couldn’t.
“Besides. This always felt like we were going through the motions. Doing what you’re supposed to do in a relationship,” continued Ali a little quietly, “You deserve better than falling into a relationship that’s just fine enough. I deserve better too.”
Oh.
That was what this felt like.
It was strange to acknowledge that; to give Ali a quiet nod of agreement as he mulled over their entire relationship.
“So, I’m guessing we’re not getting dessert, then,” joked Buck, not sure if any of this had really fully sunk in for him.
Ali laughed.
“Probably not,” confessed Ali as the waiter brought over the check already; as if Ali had asked for it while Buck had been in the bathroom, “But let me get the check for this one. Our final date is on me.”
Buck had half a mind to ask if he could order the priciest wine at the last minute.
But.
No.
He really couldn’t.
“You’re not even coming home with me tonight, are you?” asked Buck.
Ali sadly shook her head.
“No. I’m not. But. You’re going to meet someone amazing. Someone – someone who will understand your line of work better. Who can love you through the stress of it. Who wants to love you despite the fear,” said Ali as she reached out to hold Buck’s hand; squeezed it, “I’m sure of it. You’re a catch, Buck. We’re just not the right fit.”
Buck sighed.
He tried to put on a smile, but it felt forced and strained.
“Just not the right fit,” echoed Buck back, “Got it.”
*****
“Are we still talking about Ali?” asked Chimney, obviously over it now.
“I was dumped!” countered Buck as he checked off another item on his list.
“Two weeks ago,” countered Chimney, rolling his eyes, “How many shifts is that now? Seven? Seven where you make your breakup the topic of discussion?”
“Not like we have a lot going on besides that,” said Eddie, because for some reason, only Buck’s life was being turned upside down this holiday season, “It’s kind of interesting how the rant evolves.”
“Yeah,” said Hen, nodding; staring at Buck as if he were her anthropological subject, “It feels less and less about Ali the person and more about the ideas of what she should have been. It’s a glimpse into the Buck psyche.”
“Hey,” said Buck, though.
He knew it wasn’t untrue.
But still.
“You’re my friends,” whined continued Buck, “At least give me this one last rant.”
“Fine,” said Chimney, “Only because you’re our friend.”
“Thanks,” asked Buck.
“But make it quick,” added Chimney, “Our shift’s almost over.”
Right.
“You know what’s the weirdest thing about the breakup?” asked Buck as he continued to go through the checklist of supplies at the station.
The spare medicine for the ambulance.
The replacement firehose.
The extra axes.
The oxygen tanks.
Everything in the supply closet that was on the list would be present and accounted for, if Buck had any say in it.
“What?” asked Eddie curiously, or maybe tiredly because Buck had been ranting about his breakup for the entire shift.
“I’m madder about her breaking up right before my folks got into town than the actual breakup itself,” Buck concluded.
And.
Okay.
So.
Maybe this wasn’t Buck in the best light.
But.
Come on.
Right before Christmas?
Right before Buck’s parents came to town?
“Seriously, Buck? You’re madder that she didn’t wait until after she met your parents to break up with you?” asked Hen, and okay, Buck could hear the judgment there.
But.
Still.
“She knew this was important to me,” Buck explained as he put the clipboard away for a moment, “She knew it. Job I’m great at. Flourishing social life. Fantastic girlfriend. All things my parents never believed I could have. And they’re coming to visit for the holidays and I thought I could finally show them that I’m not a fuck up. That – that I’m not some waste of space. That I’m – ”
That I’m finally worth something.
“And, what?” Buck continued, trying not to think about that because he couldn’t say that out loud, “I’m supposed to tell my parents that the partner I’ve been seeing for eight months just dumped me because my job scares her? How are they not going to turn that into me being a fuck up?”
And.
Oh.
There was some pity on Hen’s face now.
“You’re not a fuck up,” said Hen genuinely.
“I can’t keep a lover long enough to have them meet my parents. I would say that is some prime fuck up material,” countered Buck.
“Parental approval isn’t everything,” countered Eddie, “My parents never liked Shannon, but that didn’t stop me from loving her.”
“Nice of you to feel so mature about this. But, damn it. I just want a win,” said Buck, “For once in my life, I want a win when it comes to my parents. And I am sad about the breakup – ”
“You’ve been talking about it on and off for two weeks, you’re definitely feeling something,” Eddie pointed out.
“But – but I just want my parents to see how far I’ve come. That I have my life together. That I’m more than they ever imagined I’d be,” said Buck, “Is that too much to want? To want my life to seem perfect enough for them? To have the nice apartment, the good job, the friends, the loving partner? Am I asking the universe for too much?”
And maybe Buck was.
Maybe asking for everything was just too much.
“I mean. Have you told your parents anything about your partner?” asked Chimney curiously.
Which.
Huh.
He seemed to have perked up a little too quickly about all of this. Though, it wasn’t as if Chimney was going to make fun of Buck.
He probably wasn’t going to make fun of Buck.
“Just that I’ve been dating someone for eight months,” explained Buck, “That it’s been going so well that we moved in together recently. It’s – it’s going to be so embarrassing to explain that within the first week of living together, she dumped me and moved because my job scared her off.”
Chimney.
Was deep in thought for a moment.
And.
Then.
“So, you didn’t say a name? You just bragged?” asked Chimney, and he seemed to be genuinely asking; not mocking or disgusted in Buck’s choice.
“Y – yeah?” said Buck, a little confused as to where this was all going.
Chimney.
Grinned.
“What if I could tell you that you didn’t have to tell your parents that you were dumped by your eight-month partner who you moved in with?” asked Chimney, and there seemed to be a game afoot here.
Buck furrowed his brow.
“I don’t think Ali would agree to take me back unless I quit my job. And I’m not quitting my job,” Buck told Chimney, because he was a little worried this was going to be a speech about grand gestures.
There was no grand gesture that could fix the problem he and Ali had.
“What? No. Nothing like that,” said Chimney, waiving the idea off, “No. I mean I could definitely find you someone who could pose as your significant other while your parents are around for the holidays.”
Buck.
Blinked.
“What?” asked Buck.
“Oh. This is getting interesting,” said Eddie, “So, you’re going to find someone who would pretend the entire holiday season? Do you know anyone like that, Chim?”
“Do you really want to fake date someone with no holiday plans?” asked Hen warily.
“Hey. Some folks aren’t always holiday people. They might not have the family, you know? Or it just might not be their holiday,” countered Chimney, “I could find you a fake date if you want me to, Buck. If you really want to have a win that badly.”
This could blow up.
This could blow up so badly in Buck’s face.
But.
Well.
Fuck it.
Buck really wanted to prove that he wasn’t a fuck up. Maybe he was a little desperate to do so, but he needed this.
“Okay,” said Buck, and Eddie seemed more excited about the drama that Buck was bringing on himself than Buck himself, “Set me up with a fake date.”
Chimney’s grin grew impossibly wider.
“Will do, Buckaroo,” said Chimney, giving Buck a good slap on the back, “Any preferences?”
With only a few days until the day Buck’s parents and sister flew in? Buck didn’t feel like he could be all that picky.
“I guess nobody too weird? Hot would be nice, but – I don’t know. It feels rude to say hot,” said Buck.
Probably a little shallow too.
“Just whoever you think will go with this and make it believable,” said Buck, unsure of whether or not this was actually a good idea, but he guessed he was doing it now.
“Oh. I have someone who would be perfect for this,” said Chimney, as he pulled out his phone and walked off.
Buck.
Didn’t want to think about the sudden nerves he was feeling.
As if he was being set up on a blind date.
In a way, Buck supposed he was.
Buck.
Decided to focus on the checklist rather than whatever fate might lie for him with this choice he had made. At least he had power over the checklist.
*****
Tommy Kinard wouldn’t say that he usually got a lot of calls.
Well.
At least, not from people other than the LAFD about an emergency fire they needed Tommy to help put out.
But.
Well.
It was Howie.
Howie was calling him.
Usually, Howie called every few months; to check up on Tommy; to chat; to talk about how his life was going. And Tommy had been okay with that. He had been more than okay with that. He liked hearing from Howie. He liked knowing Howie wanted to talk with him.
And Tommy didn’t push it.
He didn’t do anything that would make Howie want to stop calling.
He didn’t ask for more calls.
He always made sure it was Howie who suggested it whenever they met up.
So, it was a bit of a surprise that Howie was calling a week after their last hour-long chat. Which usually meant that Howie was about to ask for a favor, but his favors were never all that selfish; they were always to help others. How could Tommy turn down doing a favor for Howie?
“Hey, Howie,” said Tommy, picking up his phone, “Did you miss me that much?”
“Oh, come on. We always miss you over at the 118. The ones of us who knew you here,” said Howie.
And it felt like an exaggeration.
But.
Tommy wasn’t going to argue with Howie on that.
“But, uh. While I love to chat, I was hoping to ask you about something,” continued Howie.
And.
Okay.
Howie asked for favors sometimes.
But the way he asked usually didn’t start like this. Whatever this was was making Tommy curious.
“Oh? What about?” asked Tommy, trying not to be too excited about whatever Howie was going to ask.
“Look. I know you’re this badass firefighter pilot now who always makes a point to volunteer for the Christmas shifts and New Year’s shifts no questions asked. I know you’ve never taken any of them off before,” Chimney started, “But I was wondering – would you be willing to take them off this one time? At least the Christmas shifts.”
Huh.
This was.
A very different request than Tommy was expecting.
“Why?” asked Tommy, and okay, he was showing his intrigue now.
He couldn’t help it.
That was a weird request.
“There’s this guy I work with. Evan Buckley. Buck for short. And he kind of needs someone to swoop in and save his Christmas. And I thought that person might be you,” Chimney said, then began to tell a tale of an eight-month girlfriend who left after recently moving in, a set of parents who Chimney had only heard about maybe once and that once had solidified them as possibly horror stories, and a lonely guy who just needed a win.
And.
Tommy didn’t know.
He felt some connection to the guy without even knowing him.
This Evan Buckley.
The way Howie described him was – he was so different to Tommy, but so endearing; and warm; could light up a room in a way Tommy could only hope to dream of.
And it wasn’t as if Tommy didn’t know bad parents.
He knew bad parents.
And he wasn’t sure if he could really judge the Buckleys based on secondhand knowledge, but it also felt a little telling that their son was so nervous about them assuming he was a fuckup just because he scared off the person he was with that he was willing to let Howie set him up with a stranger in order to hide the fact that he was recently dumped.
“So, what do you think? Do you want to do it?” asked Chimney curiously, “I know the plan is a little out of the box but I swear it’s only a week and then you’re done. And you’d be helping a really great guy.”
It was wild.
It was an absolutely bonkers plan.
It couldn’t possibly work, could it?
But.
Tommy found himself saying to Howie, “I’m not sure if I can get out of all my shifts cleanly, but – but I think I could do it. If, uh. If he’s okay with your guy. Hadn’t he been dating a woman? Are you sure he didn’t tell his family he had a girlfriend?”
That was another thing.
Tommy had this feeling that something might blow up in his face if he really did this.
But.
But.
He kind of wanted to do it. For this guy Evan at the very least.
And.
Well.
Maybe a selfish part of him liked the idea of being with a family during the holidays. To not be on a shift or alone. To maybe feel the holiday spirit for once in his life.
That would be nice.
“He didn’t. And he said he had no preferences, and well, you’re the coolest guy I know who chooses to not have plans during the holidays, so…” Howie said, “What do you say? Yes? Or no?”
Tommy felt like a fraud.
He didn’t have plans because he had no one to make plans with.
Yet.
He couldn’t break the illusion for Howie.
“Yes,” said Tommy, “Yes, I’ll help your friend out.”
Tommy could just hear Howie doing a little victory dance on the other side of the phone. Tommy smiled at that; at the mental image of Howie happy that once again, Tommy wasn’t letting him down; that Tommy was
coming to the rescue.
“I’ll send you the information about the guy in a bit,” said Chimney, “Thank you for doing this.”
“No,” said Tommy, trying not to give away that he was way excited about this arrangement too, “Thank you for thinking of me.”
*****
Tommy.
Was.
Nervous.
Okay?
He was a little nervous.
It was a swanky looking apartment complex and he felt like his nicest shirt might be a little tight now and he might have looked up Evan Buckley beforehand and noticed the man was an absolute looker; just the most handsome guy Tommy had ever seen in his life.
And.
Well.
How was Tommy supposed to look nice with Evan?
How was he supposed to convince Evan’s parents that he had somehow caught a man so clearly out of his league that it almost hurt?
Tommy was fully prepared for rejection.
Full stop.
It didn’t help that, okay, during the sleuthing, Tommy had maybe seen some past girlfriends.
A.
Lot.
Of.
Past.
Girlfriends.
And yet, no boyfriends accounted for. And maybe that was a more private part of Evan’s life, but Tommy kind of doubted it.
No.
This felt like Howie hadn’t actually thought this through.
He assumed that some neutral language meant that everyone was fair game and Tommy wasn’t sure if that was the case.
Tommy.
Was fully ready for that rejection, though.
Had a friend on speed dial who might be able to do some work as a girlfriend in a pinch. Sure, Tommy would have to switch a few shifts with Lucy, but hey, she was doing Tommy the favor of fulfilling a favor Tommy couldn’t do himself, so it only seemed fair.
Tommy stood at Evan’s door, wondering if it was way too much to have bought flowers.
It felt like the boyfriend thing to do.
Buy flowers.
Who didn’t like flowers?
Tommy had read the cliff notes that Howie sent him front to back about Evan; memorized them. And he knew none of it said that flowers were a thing in the eight-month relationship Evan had been in before, but it just felt right.
Despite all of Tommy’s instincts telling him to just cut and run before he got hurt at heartbreak at first open door, well, Tommy couldn’t help it.
He at least wanted to meet this hot, sweet guy in person before Evan fake dumped him.
So.
Tommy.
Knocked on Evan’s door.
He knocked on the door of the hottest guy he had ever seen and waited for said guy to open the door and just break his heart.
And.
Well.
There was some clattering in the distance.
Possibly some panic on the other side of the door as Tommy heard whispered swears and someone clearly cleaning something up before heading over to their door.
Tommy smiled at that.
Snickered a bit.
And Tommy couldn’t help but melt as he saw the frenzied, slightly panicked guy before him when the door opened.
Evan Buckley.
Not as perfect as the picture.
Hot as them.
But still just a person.
Evan.
Seemed.
Frozen.
And he didn’t seem quite horrified or anything.
He was just.
Staring at Tommy.
Tommy didn’t know what to do with that.
He didn’t know what that meant.
Tommy should introduce himself, though.
“Hi. I’m Tommy Kinard. The partner,” said Tommy as he extended the flowers to Evan, “Do you need any help with preparing for the parents? I’m great at cleaning up. I’m admittedly an okay cook too, but I do take direction well, if that helps.”
Tommy.
Might have.
Winked.
Because, fuck it, the man was handsome. This might be his last conversation with the man. Why not put on a bit of the charm?
Evan.
Blushed.
Crimson.
It seemed to spread to his neck; his chest a bit.
He swallowed hard.
Oh.
Well.
Maybe this wouldn’t be the last conversation.
Or.
Maybe it would at least be more than a five-minute conversation.
“You’re Tommy?” asked Evan; maybe blurted out.
And, okay, that was surprise.
Tommy sighed.
“I knew it. Howie hadn’t checked if you liked men too,” Tommy announced into the flowers, “I’m so sorry. I would have warned you if Howie had given me your number.”
“What? No. I’m – I’m an ally,” said Evan scrambling, and while Tommy would say anyone who said that was trying to show off how okay they were with the queer community; that they wanted to put on a façade of kindness to feel better about themselves.
Well.
When Tommy looked up, Evan did seem genuinely worried about this; about rejecting Tommy.
“Okay,” continued Evan, “Maybe – maybe this is the first time I would be dating a dude. But I’m not weirded out. Every Pride Month, I put a rainbow on my Instagram. I’m, you know…”
A very confused ally putting a rainbow on their Instagram in a weird attempt at solidarity?
A man who may or may not be going through some feelings that seem very new to him?
And.
Okay.
All of those were bad signs.
They were red flags that should have made Tommy pump some breaks about this entire idea.
But.
Well.
Evan was so cute.
And he looked like he would do just about anything to keep Tommy there. And Tommy didn’t really get that. Maybe Evan was just that desperate. But he seemed so sweet. And Tommy wanted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.
“That’s good,” said Tommy softly, “I guess it’s just me who makes you nervous.”
And.
Tommy.
Extended the flowers back at Evan.
And.
Evan.
Made a few happy, confused, nervous noises before he took the flowers.
“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” said Evan, a little in awe.
“Well. You want the perfect boyfriend experience, right? I can deliver on that,” said Tommy with another wink, “How are you going to brag to your parents about your perfect life if you don’t have the perfect boyfriend?”
And.
That seemed to kickstart something in Evan.
“Shit. Parents. How am I just letting you stand at my door? Please, come in,” said Evan, as he quickly ushered Tommy inside, “What even happened to my manners? I’m Evan. Evan Buckley.”
Evan went to shake Tommy’s hand.
Tommy shook it.
“Evan?” asked Tommy, and wow, maybe Evan did like men too, there was some sort of reaction to the name, “Or Buck? I heard you like Buck too.”
“Evan!” blurted Evan without a thought, “Please. Evan. I – I like how you say Evan.”
Oh.
Huh.
He liked how Tommy said ‘Evan’.
Interesting.
“And, uh. I don’t know. Maybe that feels more intimate than Buck,” continued Evan with a little shrug.
“Evan it is, then,” said Tommy softly, and yeah, Evan seemed to melt at that, wow, “Would you like me to put those flowers in a vase?”
Evan seemed to almost forget that he had flowers in his hands.
“Yes. Uh. Here. I’ll go get that vase,” said Evan as he handed Tommy back the flowers and sprinted upstairs to get that vase, probably.
And.
Tommy found his way to the kitchen sink, preparing the flowers for a vase.
Tommy didn’t know how long this charade would last, but he kind of wanted to do all that he could to keep it going. If not to help Evan out, but to at least get to know him. Tommy knew that was selfish.
But still.
Tommy really wanted to know more about this guy when it wasn’t just bullet points from a friend in a text.
He wanted to know this man.
This Evan Buckley.