remembering that time i went to an interview for a receptionist in a chiropractor’s office and they brought me around the back of the building into a huge, empty, storage-like area that was halfway built, and the interviewer asked me if i was religious and then preached about god and his experiences, nearly in tears, and i was terrified so i just kinda listened and agreed to everything he said, and then he took me to meet the doctor, who asked me if i was married, asked if i was going to have kids, bragged about being in the same building as trump, bragged about his 17-18 grandchildren, and then he had to take a call, so i stood in a small room alone for like 10 minutes until his wife came in and talked about the grandkids also, but she was in tears as she spoke
i’ve never been happier to not get a job in my life
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Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.
Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.
It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.
It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.
"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.
"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.
"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.
"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.
"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"
"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.
"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"
"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.
"You just thought..."
"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."
"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.
"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."
"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.
It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.
Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.
Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.
"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."
"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.
And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.
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How tall do you HC Roach is? Personally I see this motherfucker as 5' maximum. Real short king. An absolute menace, because if they're not looking down, the rest of the 141 just don't notice him. He gets stepped on, bowled over, missed during head counts. Except for Ghost. Is it paranoia? Is it a sixth sense? Both, probably. Hes always aware of where Roach is, terrified of losing his bug boy.
Oh this was supposed to be an ask, I got carried away.
Yeah how tall is bug boy to you?
Ok.... here's the thing I am 5'2... my mom is 4'10.5 and I CANNOT imagine him being my mom's height 💀💀 (would be perfect hug height for me tho)
I give him 5'5 with helmet and boots, 5'3 without
Perfect height to give most people a knee to the balls (which I think he would do to people bc he thinks it's funny, especially to ghost), but also still short enough to climb onto shelfs and counters to get stuff
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