911discord - Tumblr blog

911discord · 2 days

Text

I like you (because you're you) - bucktommy 2K

read on ao3

“Who was that?” Tommy asks, walking up to where Buck’s sat on the couch, phone placed down in his lap. They’d just finished dinner, Buck had cooked a delicious pasta dish that had Tommy coming back for seconds. He’d told Buck how much he liked it, and Buck had promised he’d make it again before his phone started buzzing and he’d apologised before taking the call.

Buck gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His cheerful self from earlier seemingly replaced with a faded version. He has this distant look in his eyes which he quickly blinks away before he speaks. “Uh, that was my friend Connor. He, uh, just wanted some of my medical records.” He waves his hand like it’s no big deal. It isn’t. Not really. His brain is just being stupid, is all.

Tommy raises his eyebrows before frowning. “Why’d he need those?” He questions, coming to sit down next to Buck. He places his hand on Buck’s thigh momentarily, squeezing softly like he just knows that Buck needs a little bit of comfort right now even if he doesn’t quite understand why.

“Uh, their son was at a doctor's appointment, just having a check-up or something, and I’m well— they used my sperm so, you know, they just want to make sure everything is in order, I guess,” he rushes out the last part, desperate to get the words out like if he says it fast enough Tommy won’t even realise what he’s said and it won’t cause any issues.

Tommy’s brows rise further as he takes that in. Buck watches him process, afraid that his life will once again be too much for someone, and they’ll walk out. It’s what people do — when Buck inevitably becomes too much and when they decide what he’s offering, what he can’t give them, isn’t enough in return, they leave.

“Is that— is that a problem?” Buck hates the way his voice wavers as he speaks. Hates the way he can’t hide his emotions at all. He really likes Tommy, really wants him to stick around. He’ll do what he can to make that happen. He’ll make himself more useful so that Tommy won’t want to leave. He’ll—

“No, no, of course not.” Tommy says it like there’s no other answer. Like he can’t imagine anyone thinking that’s a problem. Buck waits for the inevitable ‘but’.

“But.” Buck braces. “But I’m just surprised I’ve never heard of this guy before is all,” Tommy says. Buck exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Oh uh, yeah, we— we aren’t really close.”

“But you donated sperm for him?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I guess— he asked. I may not have spoken to him in a while but, I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“You have the biggest heart, Evan. I think what you did is incredibly honourable. How are they doing now?” Tommy asks gently, seemingly comfortable to move the conversation on.

“I’m—I'm not actually sure.” He sighs. “That was the first time they’d called since the birth. And that was only because they needed something.” He laughs at the end like his words don’t speak to some greater insecurity deep inside him. Like it doesn’t hurt that his friend hasn’t talked to him until they needed him.

“Ah,” Tommy says, and Buck can here the judgement dripping from his mouth. He’s not sure exactly what he’s done, but it’s always something. Maybe he should have been the one to check in on them, maybe—

“I don’t think he sounds like a very good friend,” Tommy states.

Buck frowns, he didn’t expect him to say that. The truth is, Buck sometimes wonders that himself. What he lands on instead is that there must be something wrong with him. Because it’s not just Connor who wants things from him and then doesn’t care about any other part of Buck. It’s just how it’s always been. People take, and Buck gives. He gives, and he gives, and it’s never quite enough, but he tries.

“Sometimes I feel like people only like me when I’m useful,” Buck admits in a whisper, letting the words stuck inside his head free. It’s not that he thinks it; he knows it. He knows he’s only worth something when people can use him, and he’s lived with that his whole life. He was born to save someone, and he failed, but that’s his whole purpose even now.

He saves people for a living. He’ll babysit whenever anybody asks, he’ll be your trivia partner when you need to win. He’ll let his friends use him for his sperm. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to. He does. He loves doing these things for his friends because he can. But sometimes it hurts a little knowing that it’s not him that they want. They just… like his ability to do things.

“Evan, I like you. Regardless of anything you can or can’t do. I like you.” Tommy emphasises the you like Buck being Buck is somehow special.

Buck can’t stop the wet laugh that escapes his throat. He shakes his head, sniffles before composing himself. “No, no,” he says, because it’s not true, it can’t be. “But—but it’s okay because I’ll make sure you don’t get bored of my I-I’ll cook dinner, and I’ll do the dishes, and I’ll make sure we always win at trivia and— and I don’t know anything about cars or Muay Thai, but I’ll learn.” Buck’s rambling, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one breath. He needs to make sure Tommy knows that he’ll do his best; even if it’s hard, he’ll be useful because then Tommy will stay, and he really wants Tommy to stay.

“Evan.” It’s that soft voice again. Placating, like he’s talking to a small child. Like he’s trying to get him to listen.

Buck shifts his gaze from the floor to Tommy. He looks sad. Buck wishes he wasn’t the one to make him look like that. He tries to smile at him, anything to bring those soft creases at the edges of Tommy’s eyes back, but his heart’s not really in it.

“Evan,” Tommy says again, locking his eyes on Buck’s. “You don’t need to be useful for me to like you. I like you because you’re adorable. I like you because you’re funny and you don’t care what people think. ‘Who cares’, right?” Tommy chuckles. Buck likes that sound. “I like that you were willing to try again with me, even if you bought me god-awful coffee with it.” Buck lets out a wet chuckle at that. “I look at you, Evan, and I see someone who cares so deeply about your friends. Willing to put your life on the line for others. But it’s more than that, I like the way you ramble about random things you find on the internet, and how you try out 100 different lasagna recipes because you need to find the right one even though you burn half of them.”

“Hey!” Buck says in weak protest. He’s right, though. There’s a warmth in his chest at the fact that Tommy noticed.

Tommy keeps going. “I like how big your smile gets when you talk about Chris or Jee-Yun. I like the way that your cheeks turn the colour of your birthmark when you’re flustered. I just— I really like you, Evan. You could— you don’t have to cook for me every day or give me the answers at trivia night for me to want you to stick around. I like you because you’re you.”

Buck can’t stop the tears trickling down his cheeks. His whole life has been about being useful, and it’s so hard to believe anything different but the way Tommy talks about him. Like maybe he really does see him. “I don’t know how to— I want to believe you but it’s just, every relationship I’ve had has felt like people want something from me. Abby needed help when her mom died, and then she just left. I always felt like Ali just wanted a place to crash when she was in town. I mean, she’s the reason I have this apartment in the first place. Taylor just wanted sex at first, and then she started getting insights into news stories from the firehouse, and she always valued that more than spending time with me. She’d ask me how my day was, not because she cared but because she wanted to know if there was anything worth writing about. Hell, she even published a book about me. Even after it was over, she used me as much as she could.” The tears are flowing faster now, and his voice cracks as he speaks. It’s stupid to get so emotional about this, but Buck can’t stop now. Now that he’s opened the faucet of this insecurity of his, it’s like everything he’s been bottling inside is bubbling to the surface and he can’t stop it.

“And Nat—Natalia,” Buck continues, hiccuping through his tears. “She just wanted to understand my death. Asked me a hundred— a hundred questions about what it was like, and at first, I thought maybe she could actually see me, but I feel like she was just using me for something too.” Buck wipes his face. He’s sure he must look like a mess right now — tear-streaked face, snot dripping down from his nose. Tommy doesn’t deserve to deal with all this. “Sorry,” Buck chuckles, the sound getting caught in his throat. “You didn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Hey,” Tommy says, moving closer towards Buck. He tucks his fingers under Buck’s chin forcing him to look Tommy in the eyes. He holds Buck’s face tenderly in his hand, always so gentle. “You can talk to me about anything, and I will listen, okay?”

“I don’t want to bore you,” Buck says softly, moving to look down at the ground once more but Tommy doesn’t let him get away, holding him firmly yet soft, like Buck’s something precious.

“You couldn’t,” Tommy replies sincerely. “If it weren’t for you, how else would I know that the Australians started a war on emus, huh?” He jokes.

“And lost,” Buck whispers because he can’t help it.

“And lost!” Tommy repeats. Buck had gone on a tangent about it just the other day. He’d gone to the zoo with Christopher, and they’d been having a lot of fun until they stood too close to the fence, and an emu had come up and startled them. Buck had decided in that moment that he needed to find out every single detail about them, which led him to discovering that in 1932, Australia declared war on emus —and then proceeded to lose. He’d met up with Tommy after and rambled about his findings because he thought it was absolutely hilarious. Tommy sat there smiling at him, evidently listening to every word that he said, taking it in and remembering it all.

“I like listening to you talk, Evan. I like you. And I’ll tell you that as much as you need to hear. Now,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Tomorrow, I’m cooking for you. You don’t need to do anything except sit there and look pretty. Let someone do something for you for once. Okay?”

Buck just nods, wiping at his eyes before slumping into Tommy’s now open arms and relishing in the comfort of his boyfriend. He doesn’t quite believe him, not yet. He wants to. It’s just prior experience has moulded his brain a certain way and now he just can’t believe any different. He wants to. He wants someone to like him, to love him, even when he can’t be useful. He hopes that maybe Tommy will show him that that’s possible.

For now, he tucks his head into Tommy’s shoulder, clutches onto him like he’s going to disappear and lets himself be held. Tommy kisses his birthmark like it’s sacred, holds him and tells him he likes him over and over. Buck thinks maybe he really does.

#*writer tag #theotherbuckley

196 notes · View notes