Chapter Text
Tommy tapped his foot outside of Evan’s frat-house. God, the place looked disgusting even from the outside. There were overgrown weeds out front, the shutters faded and paneling green with neglect. He had seen the inside briefly while on Facetime with Evan; Evan’s room was kept meticulous but the rest of the house was a mixture of graffiti’d walls and stained carpets. The one time Evan had taken him along to look for something to eat in the fridge, he saw the suspicious spills no one bothered to clean up bordered by bottles of beer and what may have been boiled chicken and eggs. He had DoorDashed a meal to Evan after that, griping about the state that he lived in. Something changed that night, Evan beginning to look at him with large blue eyes whenever he wanted something. And hey, Tommy was a single guy with a passive income from his army days and a nice job in LA, he didn’t really need to double check his account before splurging on the kid who wormed his way under his defenses.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long!” Evan called as he exited the house, not bothering to check if the door locked behind him. Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t.
Tommy grunted, opening the passenger door of his truck for Evan to climb in. Shutting it after he did so since the damn kid always slammed it.
“You didn’t have to come get me, you know that right?” Evan asked, reaching over the console to touch Tommy’s knee. That was a new development too, the casual touches they began sharing. He and Sal never touched each other, maybe an overcompensation on Tommy’s part in fear of discovery during the days of Gerrard. Sal was just, not a touchy guy. Tommy vividly remembered the look of constipation on the other’s face when a patient’s grandma had hugged him for saving her life.
“Evan, I know.” Tommy told him, reaching across Evan’s hand to grab his coffee. And if his fingers trailed over the other’s knuckles, giving him a brief squeeze to reassure him, that wasn’t anyone else’s business but his own. “I wanted to. I hate that shithole you live in.”
“It’s not a shithole.” Evan muttered petulantly, crossing arms over his chest, “They’re my friends.”
“Do you even know anyone other than Connor?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow in Evan’s direction.
The silence spoke for itself as Evan shifted his knees towards the door.
Tommy sighed, taking another sip of his coffee. He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t have this sort of relationship with Sal, and having Evan as his partner was a learning curve.
“I’m sorry,” He offered as a few more minutes of silence, reaching out to grasp one of Evan’s hands in his own. The younger always seemed to respond better to physical affection, “I worry about you in that neighborhood.”
“I’ll be fine.” Evan grouched, letting Tommy intertwine their fingers. He saw Hen and Evan do it while talking a few times, figuring it would be a good way to express himself.
“I know you will be.” Tommy told him, pulling into the parking lot of the 118. He parked at the far side of the parking lot, not trusting B platoon not to ding his truck if he parked closer. “I’m sorry I’m smothering you.”
Evan pouted as Tommy got out of the truck, walking around to open his door. Couldn’t let the little shit overextend the hinges afterall.
“You don’t smother me.” Evan told him shyly, looking up at him under dark eyelashes as he slid from the truck to the ground. “I like it when you take care of me.”
“I like taking care of you too.” Tommy told him, slinging the other’s duffle over his shoulder on top of his own, leading the other inside with a hand at the small of his back, “Will you at least think about what I said yesterday?”
Evan groaned, dragging his feet a little as they walked in. Tommy frowned at him, already thinking about the hours he spent scuffing those boots so they shined for uniform inspection. Evan had his long legs in Tommy’s lap, bitching as Tommy applied the treatment to them as he wanted to take them off. Serves him right for not bringing them the last time Tommy told him to.
“I already did.” Evan muttered into his side as they stopped in the locked room, leaning heavily into his side as Tommy unpacked his duffle. Somehow he had Evan’s jobshirt packed away in his, probably for the other’s benefit as it would never get clean at Evan’s frat house.
“And what did you think?” Tommy asked, hanging both of their formal button ups in his locker. Evan’s was a mess of training manuals and snacks. Tommy vaguely recognized steps coming in behind them, Chimney and Bobby probably coming to find them for line up.
“Yeah,” Evan sighed, reaching for Tommy’s coffee, pulling a face at the plain black brew, “I’ll move in with you.”
Behind them Bobby groaned, both men turning to see Chimney receiving a twenty dollar bill from the other male.
…
Tommy’s first conscious thought of Evan was that he looked like a baby doll. He had these big blue eyes, made brighter by the thick blonde lashes framing them. He had beautifully flushed cheeks, the apples of them clinging to the last bit of youthful chub. He worried his fat bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth, causing the tissue to plumpen nicely, an inflamed red drawing Tommy’s eyes to his mouth.
“Uh, h-hi.” The stranger greeted, clutching the strap of his duffel bag in a white knuckled grip. Tommy’s gaze ran up his body, taking in the LAFD trainee hoodie and the backwards cap hiding blonde curls. The guy licked his lips nervously, eyes darting around the table, “I’m looking for Bo-Bobby Nash?”
Bobby traded an amused look with Tommy before schooling his features into a more serious expression, slowly making eye contact with each member at the table, “You know a Bobby Nash? No? What about you?”
Tommy smirked, shaking his head when Bobby caught his gaze again, both of them turning to stare at the young man.
“I-I’m Evan Buckley.” He continued to explain, anxiously swaying from side to side, “I’m the new recruit? But everyone calls me Buck.”
Bobby let the silence linger for a second longer, the young man watching with large blue eyes that were filling with apprehension, “Welcome to the 118, Buck.”
Bobby patted the open seat next to Tommy, everyone still silently leaving Sal’s spot open. Tommy tugged the chair out, gesturing for the young man to sit.
Evan chuckled nervously, “Thank you, sir.” He watched as they piled food on his plate in tandem, “Is it always like this?”
“When Bobby’s captain it is.” Hen told him, passing him a bowl of garlic bread, giving him a gentle smile as he took a slice.
“This is amazing.” Evan told them, digging into the food in front of him as if he were a starving man. He caught Tommy’s eye, noodles hanging out of his mouth as he chewed, “Sorry,” He said, blushing after he swallowed, “I can’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal.”
“Not quite.” Tommy scoffed, “We all pitch in to cook in the kitchen.”
Evan beamed at him in elation, “You guys are gonna teach me how to cook?”
Tommy cleared his throat, feeling his own face flush at how intensely Evan was staring at him, “Bobby will. We just help.”
Across from him, he saw Chimney and Hen exchange amused looks, Chimney swearing as Tommy swung his foot to kick him in the shin.
Evan continued to grin at him, none the wiser, eyes skimming over Tommy’s strong features, settling on his lips a second too long to be appropriate. Tommy would have noticed it, had he not been doing the same thing.
Evan continued to follow him around the entirety of the shift, Bobby directing him to acquaint himself with the station and trucks, telling them Tommy and Evan would be staffing the engine that day. They’d also be first to assist Hen and Chimney to get Evan adjusted to their pace and equipment.
“How long have you been here?” Evan asked Tommy as the older supervised him changing out the oxygen tank in the ambulance.
“Since 6am this morning.” Tommy answered, quirking an eyebrow at the disgruntled look Evan gave him, “I’ve been working here since 2003.”
“Oh cool,” Evan replied, throwing him a cheeky grin, “I was 11.”
Tommy gulped, staring at the long line of Evan’s back as his muscles flexed, carrying the empty cylinder to the used equipment section, not even struggling as he picked up the full cylinder and carried it back to the bus. “That makes you 25 now?”
“It does,” Evan agreed, spinning around to face Tommy, dusting hands together, “How old does that make you?”
“I’m 39.” Tommy said, watching the way Evan’s eyes darkened and his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Almost 40.” Evan said, voice thick and lowered. He flushed a pretty pink before clearing his throat, “This where you want to spend the rest of your life?”
Tommy shrugged, “I thought about going to AirOps, even interviewed. I didn’t want to get stuck doing glorified hospice transports though. I realized all the fun was on the ground.”
Evan looked him up and down, “Do you even fit in the back of a helicopter?”
Tommy chuckled, “I’d be the pilot.”
“You’re a pilot?” Evan asked, mouth dropping open. Tommy quickly pushed away the dirty thoughts jumping to the forefront of his mind.
“I am. I was trained in the army, kept up with it.” Tommy couldn’t help but brag, “I can give you flying lessons, if you’d want.”
“No way!” Evan beamed at him.
“My fees are competitive.” Tommy offered, grinning at the younger man’s enthusiasm.
“That would be so cool!” Evan told him, flailing long arms around his neck, pressing their chests together. Tommy could smell his aftershave, the scent of Old Spice invading his nostrils as he took in a greedy breath, wrapping thick forearms around the small of Evan’s waist. Evan gave a little grunt of approval as he squeezed himself closer, hard nipples rubbing against the buttons of Tommy’s uniform.
“Was that okay?” Evan asked when he pulled himself away, eyes bright and grin wide.
“Absolutely.” Tommy told him, “What are you doing Saturday?”
“Saturday?” Evan asked.
“Are you free?” Tommy continued, “I can pick you up, take you for those flying lessons.”
“Y-yeah,” Evan stuttered, “I, I am free.”