loving you is my favorite place to be
buck/tommy | 3.2k | t | future-fic, slice of life || Read on AO3
The store is a small brick building that looks far more rundown than any of the other buildings surrounding it. It’s the first store on their — rather short — list, and admittedly, Buck’s almost instantly intrigued.
It’s a considerate choice, or at least it feels like one, and that’s enough for his curiosity to be itched enough to steer the truck towards the small parking lot adjacent to the building. There’s a rickety old station wagon in the back, obviously running on fumes and about as well-loved as anything can be to show for it. Buck understands that more than he’d like; holding onto something until it breaks is his standard operating baseline, too.
He can hardly fault someone else for that.
The brick is practically crumbling in some areas. He really doesn’t like that.
“Here?” Tommy asks, as if sensing his thoughts, an edge of that tone seeping through just slightly. Buck doesn’t have to look at his husband to know he’s raising an eyebrow at him in silent — and playful, always playful — judgment.
“It has…character,” Buck says, shrugging his shoulders, licking his lips carefully as Tommy meets his eyes. He lets a bit of his own tone in now, too. “And it isn’t Target, which we both agreed is a trap.”
“Dada stop?” A small voice asks from the backseat.
Buck’s eyes shift to the rearview mirror, a smile he has absolutely no control over quickly claiming his face as he does. He finds the small view of her isn’t nearly enough, though, and he just has to turn back to face her in all her cuteness.
Their daughter, barely under two years old now and still growing like a damn weed, gazes at them with wide, hopeful blue eyes. The cleft of her chin is all Tommy’s, the smattering of the birthmark that covers the bridge of her nose unmistakably Buck’s, and her daredevil can-do attitude probably the perfect mixture of them both. She’s everything, and she’s more, and Buck can hardly believe they waited for her for so long.
He gives her one last grin as he kills the engine with a gentle hum. “That’s right, pumpkin.”
Buck then turns back to Tommy with a raised eyebrow, the arch a gentle, challenging tease. “Let’s just give this a chance, please?” He suggests, and not even another tsunami barreling through Los Angeles could stop the words that fall out of his mouth next, ”You of all people should know that old things can have their charms, babe.”
The contention in Tommy’s tone is nothing short of thrilling, which probably means bad things for Buck as a partner, but there’s just something so cute about it. Tommy’s all rough, sharp lines, eyebrows down-turned in his incredibly believable faux outrage and he’s still the most beautiful person Buck has ever seen.
It’s all pretend, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less fun. Everything’s fun with Tommy, even the not so fun stuff. It’s kind of one of the (many) reasons Buck married him, made a life with him.
Buck wants this for the rest of his life, and then some.
The glare that Tommy levels at the side of Buck’s face is breathtaking in its viscousness, though not even Tommy can hide the way his lips are already twitching. Buck poorly hides his own amused smile in the collar of his jacket and quickly decides distraction is the best course of action. He leans over the center console to kiss the glare right off of Tommy soundly, finding his lips to be just as anchoring and warm as they were the very first time, all the way back in Buck’s old loft.
They’ve kissed a thousand times since then.
They’ll inevitably share thousands more, but he’ll never get enough. Buck’s known that from the moment Tommy kissed him for the first time the second time, when things between them were still fragile; unbecoming of the broken parts of everything around them. Just a little bit [broken], a little bit [fragile], but still so good.
Since reconnecting after their break-up, they’ve become inseparable in the years since again. This time, though, its for the right reasons, with the necessary lines of communication already established. Buck isn’t making that mistake twice; it doesn’t matter how great the sex is if they can’t talk to each other.
It isn’t lost on him, really, how lucky they both were that they decided they were both worth the work. And now, they have Max, and they’re already talking about giving her a sibling some time down the line.
Buck pulls away from the kiss with a soft grin, hand reaching up to stroke through Tommy’s curls. They’re wild today, pouring over his forehead now that he’s let them grow out a bit more. Buck is just about to lean in for another kiss — utterly bewitched by and incapable of ignoring his husband’s very kissable lips — when Maxie starts babbling to herself, making the most of their momentary distraction.
She’s in a great mood today, having already had her mid morning nap, with her most prized Bluey plushie tucked tightly between her and her carseat. She drags the thing everywhere with her, which is part of the reason they’re sampling different stores today. Buck loves spoiling her — they both do — which is also true, but they’re quickly approaching a crisis and he’s just as swiftly running out of options. Hopefully, if she’s distracted by a shiny new stuffed animal, maybe he’ll finally be able to sneak the poor thing into their laundry room for a desperately needed cleaning.
The state of the thing is half past rotted by now, and he worries she really is just dragging around a glorified germ magnet with her.
Tommy’s hand falls on his thigh, squeezing gently. He kisses Buck again, this time with tongue, and then they pull away his lips are still tingling pleasantly. “Alright, Evan.”
Buck grins. “I’ll grab her.”
Buck exits the car shortly after, but before he’s able to open Maxie’s door, Tommy materializes next to him and his hand gently closes around Buck’s wrist. “Captain Hernandez called, while we were in the truck.”
Buck’s eyes widen, and he tries valiantly not to stare at the love of his life like he’s insane. “You should have answered, obviously.”
“I didn’t ignore it on purpose,” Tommy says, eyebrows raised on just the right side of bitchy.
Buck’s center of gravity shifts, and he finds it really is just that simple, they’re here, outside a random toy store that Buck has dragged them to, with their daughter, and he feels so overwhelmed by the familiar domesticity of it all that he feels as if he could do this forever. He could drag Tommy and their kids around on little adventures just like this one and never run out of people to share his time with.
Instead of saying any of that, though, Buck just levels a look at him. “About the Captain position again?”
Tommy cuts him off with a gentle shake of his head, finally releasing his hold on Buck’s wrist as he leans in for another kiss. Buck grants him one with a hum and tries not to immediately dive back in for just one more when they pull away.
“Not now, Evan. I know what you’re going to say, and I will, I promise. I’ll meet you both inside soon,” Tommy bumps their shoulders together as he waves at Maxie through the window. “Don’t let her play too much on your heartstrings this time or we will go broke.”
Buck waves him off with a laugh, finally opening the door as he does. Maxie is once again babbling away to herself contentedly, none the wiser to her parents’ conversation just outside her window. She’s so precious and trusting, cute and with every bit of good in the world; Buck looks at her sometimes, and feels a little bit crazy. That he’s lucky enough to love this amazing, tiny little human with everything he has.
He returns the wide-toothed smile she gifts them with when she realizes they’re outside the truck now. Buck gives the side of Tommys’ waist a squeeze, gently tapping him over so he can get their daughter from the backseat already. He unfastens the seatbelt that cuts across her carseat, pulling her out of the car with ease and her arms wrap around his neck as soon as she has the clearance. He blows a raspberry on her belly and then kisses her birthmark as he settles her on his hip. With every kiss, every hug, every hair brushed out of her face, he feels the chasm of loneliness inside of him slowly begin to fill.
Tommy’s already around the other side of the truck by now, presumably to finally call his poor Captain back. Buck tickles her belly as they begin walking towards the front of the store. Tommy’s voice, bright and welcoming, echoes behind them as the line picks up.
While Buck wishes Tommy believed in his own ability to lead more, Buck isn’t exactly surprised he hasn’t followed up on the offer. Tommy loves being in the sky, and Buck doesn’t blame him, but he knows he’d make just as excellent of a leader; he just hopes, sometime, maybe even some day soon, Tommy actually starts to believe in that himself.
“Papa?” Maxie asks, once she realizes Tommy isn’t following behind them.
“Papa will be right behind us, honey.”
Max does not seem appeased by this, but it stops her from breaking out into tears dead center in front of the shop, which is good enough for him. The inside, unlike the outside, is practically a different store entirely. The cozy, warm masonry theme is carried throughout the front lobby and what he can see of the store floor.
The store has been lovingly restored. Where the outside had seemed like a strong gust could topple it to dust, there’s an inescapable togetherness of the space in here that’s at once grounding and freeing.
Most importantly, though, this locally operated and family owned toy store has the most positive reviews by far outside of big-name retailers. Buck figures if there’s any shot of pleasing his daughter, this place is the perfect store to start with.
Buck already knows Tommy will agree with him when he sees the inside.
“Down, pl’se,” Max requests, voice loud but thankfully not enough so as to disturb the other patrons. The store is small enough that it’ll be easy to keep an eye on her. It is sort of unbearably cute, watching her waddle around on her own. Max is steady enough on her feet by now that they aren’t constantly worried about her falling on her face anymore, but she definitely still has that hours-old fawn gait about her.
Buck also definitely has an embarrassing amount of videos on his phone documenting that — she’s just that cute.
“Okay, Max. Stay close, sweetheart,” he says, though he knows it’s pointless. She has no idea what that means, surely, and she’s a Buckley as much as a Kinard; she’s not going to care either way. The thought brings a smile to his face as he watches her walk a few paces in front of him down the first aisle of plushies.
The sheer amount of them all is nothing short of overwhelming, but Max’s eyes are wide and awed as she takes in all of the different new friends that she suddenly has at her disposal, and Buck knows, as sure as anything, he’ll never tire of seeing the world through her eyes. The plushies only get bigger the further down the aisle they go, and by the time they’ve reached the end, they’re nearly Max’s size.
She stops in front of an oversized otter plushie, mouth dropping open and he recognizes the glint in her eye; it’s the same way Tommy looks in the pit of the helicopter, with the first rays of sunrise bathing him in orange.
Buck pulls it from the shelf with an exaggerated groan just to hear her laugh again. She does, and he tucks the otter lovingly under his arm. If there’s anything he knows about his daughter, it’s that she’s hardly done. There are four more aisles and he knows she’ll drag him down every one until she’s satisfied.
It hardly takes twenty seconds for him to be proven correct. Maxie lets out an excited little chirp as her eyes fall on an even bigger squid plushie, finger pointed in excitement the same way Buck does when he’s trying to get Tommy to pay attention to that week's round of Substacks he’s become obsessed with.
Buck pulls it from the shelf, tucks it under his other arm, and nearly brains himself on one of the tentacles when he bends down to crouch in front of her.
Max is caught between both of the plushies, eyes leaving one to immediately bounce to the other. He takes in the pure appreciation on her face, the way he already knows she’s not going to be able to pick between the two, but still presents them to her anyway.
“Squid,” He says, shaking the squid in a way that has it dancing in front of her, a private show just for her, tentacles raining around wildly. She breaks into a peel of giggles but doesn’t reach for it.
Next, he shakes the otter, bringing it forward to kiss her gently on the tip of her nose. “Or otter?”
It’s an impossible choice, one made only more impossible by the lack of understanding. He isn’t about to hold it against her though, instead watching the way her eyebrows furrow in concentration, the smallest sliver of her tongue sneaking out as she almost seems to truly consider her options.
Max comes to a decision, but instead of reaching for one of the animals, her small arms loop around his neck again, and she buries her face in his chest. He can feel the slope of her grin through his shirt.
He knows, really, exactly what she’s doing, but he’s not in any hurry to stop her. He wraps Max up in one of his very best bear hugs, lifting her up so she’s back on his hip as he stands up. Dutifully, and perhaps a bit sheepishly -- and frankly, very glad Tommy isn’t here to witness it this time -- Buck tucks the stuffed animals under his other arm, hoping through sheer force of will he can keep his hold on them until they reach the front counter.
“I love you, sweet girl,” Buck says into her curls.
“Dada love,” she babbles, nodding where her head still rests on his shoulder.
He laughs, “Yeah, Maxie,” he whispers, and then they’re approaching the line for the counter. “Lots’a love.”
Thankfully, there’s only a couple people in front of him in line. He bounces in place, letting the plushies rest at his feet as they wait for their turn at the counter. He lets his eyes look out the front windows again; if Buck squints hard enough, he can just make out a Tommy-shaped blob starting to approach the door.
Buck turns so she has a front row view of Tommy walking in, and Max wastes no time leaning over to him, hands already raised for him. Tommy’s expression opens on a particularly besotted smile, one that he wears frequently when it’s just the three of them, actually, and if he rushes forward to grab her from him more quickly than necessary, well, it’s not like Buck will hold it against him.
Max has that effect on both of them.
Tommy kisses her forehead, his strong arms pulling her close to his chest. “I missed you, sweetheart.”
Buck picks up the stuffed animals, knowing exactly the kind of ribbing Tommy will give him once he notices them, but Buck knows a made bed when he lies in it. Sure enough, shortly after Tommy leans forward to kiss Buck softly in hello, his eyes fall to the — massive — stuffed animals tucked under both of Buck’s arms now, and breaks into laughter.
“She pulled the hug trick on you again, didn’t she?”
Buck makes an offended noise, bumping their shoulders together. “Hey, shut it! It’s not a trick.”
Tommy only grins, eyes falling to the sweet girl who’s nuzzling into Tommy’s shirt. If Tommy angles his head enough, he can just make out the devious, self-satisfied curve of her grin.
(What Buck doesn’t know will only hurt his wallet.)
“Right,” Tommy says, winking at their daughter conspiratorially. Buck finds it is quite easy to ignore him, actually. “Of course, baby. Whatever you say.”
It’s only later, when they’re on their way home after an impromptu drive-through run, when Buck thinks to ask, the excitement of their shopping trip thoroughly sidetracking him.
“What did Cap want, by the way?”
Now that he isn’t driving, Buck finds he enjoys the view of Tommy more than the landscape around him, so he’s treated to the front row view of Tommy’s face. The slope of his aquiline nose, the high ridges of his cheek bones, the way his eyes glitter as they focus on the road, they still have nothing on the way his eyes crinkle as his grin grows in the one Buck loves so much, the longer Buck stares at his profile.
“The Captain position,” Tommy says. “She was very persuasive.”
Buck bites his lip. “Yeah?”
Tommy nods, eyes glancing over at him for just a second as he takes one of Buck’s hands from his lap, lacing their fingers together. He turns back to the road, but Buck still feels his gaze long after he turns away.
“It’s official. After she retires in six months, you’ll be looking at a one Captain Kinard,” Tommy says, and Buck knows, he knows he’s not nearly as confident as he’s trying to make himself seem, but the smirk on his face would fool practically anyone else. Buck feels fit to burst, with love, with pride, and it’s all he can do it sit there and not kiss his husband about it.
“I’m so proud of you,” Buck says. His eyes track over to the rearview mirror again, and once they fall upon Max’s sleeping form — thumb in her mouth, curls wildly askew and drool pooling heavily in the collar of her shirt — Buck fixes a leer on him and continues. If his voice is a little huskier, his eyes a little more hooded, well, that’s between them. “If you don’t want to wait that long for the title upgrade, I can give you a preview of the benefits of your new position, Captain Kinard.”
Tommy’s jaw tightens in arousal, fingers squeezing around Buck’s own at the same time. “Evan.”
“Is that a no?” Buck asks, unable to keep the shit-eating tease out of his tone entirely.
Buck smirks. “Then chop-chop, Cap. I heard word that there’s a five-alarm fire developing quickly in our bedroom, we’ll need all engines on deck.”
Tommy just laughs and laughs, and when he presses just a little more deftly on the accelerator, well, that’s just their little secret, too.
