Work Text:
Lucy Donato is a deceitful, unhelpful, and frankly annoying coworker.
Tommy had sprinted out of the main hanger door of Harbor, running full tilt at his truck because Donato had come walking into the locker room at the end of their shift calmly and without a care in the world to tell him that "some sketchy dude is getting into the back of your truck, Kinard". Concerned for his carefully crafted car tool kit and even more impressive road-side medical bag, Tommy had yelled out at her nonchalance and left for the parking lot.
But, because Tommy already knew about her wicked, deceitful ways, he really should have known that it wasn't going to be straightforward. Working with her is—in Tommy's opinion—too much like working with a particularly tricky genie who takes explicit pleasure in word-play. Next week he'll figure out how to get her back—sticking her with the probie who keeps getting airsick or telling Cap that she volunteered for the next Kindergarden class visit.
Now, however, he's standing at the back of his truck, his flight suit half removed and hastily tied at his waist, blinking in the dying sunlight at Evan Buckley; handsome and soft in jeans and a faded LAFD shirt.
Evan gives him a sheepish look, sitting on the tailgate in a way he knows has always been kind of a turn-on for Tommy—a cute boy on the back of his truck. Tommy knows he's in for it, so all he can manage is a sigh and nervous hands that adjust the white shirt he's got on under the flight suit before they land on his hips.
"Evan." He starts, trying to keep suspicion out of his voice.
Evan smiles at him some more, that bright smile that always made something fizz down Tommy's spine. He rolls his eyes fondly at Tommy.
"C'mon, don't be so suspicious. Can't a guy climb in the back of his ex-boyfriend's truck in order to slow said ex-boyfriend down long enough to listen to what he has to say?"
Tommy rolls his eyes right back as his nervous arms finally find a resting point crossed against his chest.
"Well, you know I can't resist a cute boy in the back of my truck. So since you've used this weakness against me, you might as well give it a go."
Evan's grin, impossibly, turns up a few more notches and it's all Tommy can do to try and stay neutral back, stay gaurded, stay safe. It's been a month in a half since Tommy last saw Evan—his back as he quickly walked away after Tommy tried to catch him after the funeral procession, even longer since they actually spoke.
He sees Evan steel himself, prepare to lay out what he has to say and convince Tommy to hear it. Its in the line of his neck and the way his hands drip at the gait.
"The thing is…" Evan starts, and Tommy has to stop himself from budging in between his long legs dangling from the tailgate, has to focus on his words instead. "The thing is that I'm not okay just letting this go without talking to you first—without telling you everything I've been thinking about for the last year; without trying to help you understand just how important you are to me, Tommy."
It's Tommy's instinct to cut in, to crack a joke, but the way Evan's eyes are boring into his makes anything he wants to say slide away from his thoughts.
"I'm not always the best with my words, as you've discovered in the past few months," Evan lets out a little self-deprecating chuckle at that, lowers his eyes for a moment while he rubs a hand across the back of his neck. His gaze returns to Tommy before he speaks again, licking his lips in the nervous gesture Tommy always found adorable. "But uh, I've been practicing this for like, the last seventy-two hours. I think Ravi is gonna kill me if he listened to it seven times and I don't say it. So, if it's okay with you, can I give you my big RomCom speech?"
Tommy's slipped so thoroughly into every one of Evan's words that he misses the cue, and Evan starts to look a little worried.
"Oh!" Tommy replies, too loud in the quiet of the evening, wincing but pushing forward nonetheless, "Yeah, yeah. That's, yes. Yes, Evan. Tell me your. Uh. Your RomCom speech."
Evan grins at him, all dimples and stubble, and Tommy feels himself gulp. He shifts slightly, tightens the knot of his sleeves at his waist, and tries again--more confidently this time.
"Yeah, I want to hear it."
"Okay," Evan says, giving him another smile. "Here goes nothing. Let me say it all in one go, eh?"
Evan hops down from the truck bed, standing up tall and squaring his shoulders. He doesn't reach out for Tommy, so Tommy stays still and waits.
"Tommy, you came into my life with a literal hurricane. Like, actually, a genuine hurricane. With the way my life goes, I don't think anything less would have worked. Just as fast as those winds, you had me questioning everything I thought I understood about myself. In that helicopter, I wasn't fully ready—my mind, my heart, my body. I knew something had shifted, something was different, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Like, something changed up there beyond my control and outside of my knowledge, and everything I did afterwards was trying to pinpoint just what it was about myself that had been affected. The jealousy, the wanting to get to know you, the truly ridiculous behavior—all trying to figure it out and get myself back to normal.
Then…you kissed me, and it was like my ears popping, like all the sound rushing in at once and revealing that that is what changed; I just couldn't realize it at the time. It was—was beautiful, and loud, and amazing, an-and terrifying, all at once. I, uh, I was a little disoriented at first and embarrassed myself, if you can remember it. But—but you gave me another chance, and following that was an incredible six months, of laughter and learning and so much amazing sound.
Then…I think in all of that sound, words themselves were lost. We didn't talk enough, didn't question enough, didn't share enough…hell, Tommy, we didn't even fight enough. It turns out that I was too many notes ahead, or a, a song, or any other thing that makes sense in this sound metaphor, I guess."
Tommy laughs at that, he can't help it. He stays quiet beyond that though, and he knows that Evan sees him blinking too fast by the soft smile that forms on his face.
"I didn't realize that we were on those different notes, and I let other people talk to me about us, but didn't stop to actually talk to you about it. For that, Tommy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so caught up in what I thought was this amazing, incredible symphony that I couldn't hear how off key I actually was."
And Tommy can't stand for that, can't let Evan think that it was only him that messed up. Like the words are pulled straight from his chest, he cuts in: "No, no, Evan it was me—"
"Hey," Evan says, mock stern, "this is my cheesy RomCom speech, big boy. Get your own."
Tommy chuckles, ducks his head and throws his hands up in surrender.
"As I was saying," Evan starts again with a deep breath in. "I was off key. I was a song ahead. I hadn't stopped to consider how who you were and what your history was would change how you came into this relationship .I should have asked, I should have talked to you; if—if I could go back and do it again I'd beg just to hear more of your voice—to hear you talk about nothing and everything important. I'd tell myself to shut up about things I don't actually know about. When you walked out of my door…it was…devoid of all of that sound I had gotten so wrapped up in. My days became so quiet, and I tried to stay in motion as much as possible because if I did then at least I wouldn't hear how silent my life had become. I then let people stop me from calling you; from reaching out to try and get that sound back into my life again.
Months of that silence, then, because I was too confused and nervous and worried that I would learn that it was just me and my inherent cacophony that drove you away. It was…god, Tommy it was awful. I think, I hope that in all the times I wanted to hear from you, you were maybe wanting to talk to me too, but I never got to find out.
Then, and he never let me forget this, Ravi dragged you over to our table at that bar. For one night, one gorgeous, amazing, sweaty, night…I heard it all again. The sound you bring to my life all around me in that dark house, waking up to the sound of you cooking, hearing that you want to try again. It was like you were back for seven hours and suddenly I broke out of that silent vacuum I had been stuck in."
Evan looks up at the sky, lets his voice crack a trail off for a moment. Maybe its a trick of the light or maybe Tommy really does see his eyes lined with tears.
"Then, we messed that one up too. This time, I'll say it: we weren't even trying to listen to each other. I heard a few words that I didn't like and jumped at the chance to defend myself and prove you wrong as meanly as I possibly could. You said some really insane shit that honestly made me want to throw up in my mouth—"
"Okay," Tommy says, rolling his eyes, "I have reflected on that and I'm already embarrassed enough—"
"No, no, I think you could stand to feel more embarrassment. Because one, gross. Two, what? And three: Eddie is like, a really bad boyfriend; you know that right? I've got some standards."
Tommy snorts, and he's really got to get a handle on his eyes before they start leaking.
"And four, his ass? Nothing on yours babe. And I am, at my core, and ass man." Evan says, cocky look on his face with a wink and a smirk. Tommy feels himself blush, embarrassingly enough, having to chalk it up to be just another thing Evan wrings out of him.
"Anyway. Where was I? Oh, our very sexy night. Followed by an entirely unsexy non-fight in which you lied to me about having a shift because you're so bad at lying I saw through it immediately; and you shutting the door on us again—blocking that sound again. After that, I talked to Maddie and she kind of gave me some, uh, not great advice while unfortunately backing up your insane idea—which I have since made very clear is insane to her as well—and sadly, I followed the advice. I tried to learn to be okay in the lonely quiet again. That worked for a while."
Evan takes another fortifying breath and Tommy braces himself for what he knows is coming next.
"Then my team was stuck in a lab and once again it was you that came in with the roar of helicopter blades and words shared over helmet mics to save them. My missing sound rushing in again. Of course, right after that, when we stupidly thought we won—that's when silence hit the worst. Bobby, uh, B-Bobby died. I heard some of his last words, and I couldn't even respond to them. I walked away and didn't even hear my own screams. I threw myself into the silence that time. I let the one-eighteen pull away from me, I let Chim go until I had to talk him off a ledge, I ran away from you after the funeral because I thought I deserved the silence this time. Like i-i-if things were quiet for long enough it wouldn't erase the sound of Bobby, of things before, of the chance of things being…okay again. I was so deep in my grief and trying to hold it all together by myself that the thought of having all that sound back scared me for the first time."
Evan reaches up to scrub at his eyes, and it takes a concentrated effort for Tommy to stop himself from reaching out to wrap him up in a hug. Evan rallies himself, breathing slowly and looking back at Tommy with devastatingly blue eyes ringed red.
"But that was never going to work; it was never going to bring Bobby back, it wasn't going to make things normal, and it wasn't going to convince me that I was okay just letting this relationship disappear in a whisper when it came in like my own private concert that opened my ears and eyes and my…and my-my heart."
Evan's voice cracks, and Tommy is hopelessly charmed; he's a goner.
"So, Tommy Kinard." Evan says, and he's finally, finally reaching out to grab Tommy's hand. Tommy unfolds his arms to let it happen, allows Evan to pull them a few inches closer together. "If you tell me to shut up and get lost, then okay, I'll respect that. Tell me that I'm too late, that this convoluted metaphor about sound is too much for you, that you don't think we can make it work, and you won't hear from me again.
But—But if you want to try again, if you're tired of the quiet too, if you—you want to live in that beautiful sound we had together again, with this time hopefully being a little more in tune, a little more rehearsed, then—then please give us another chance. Give me another chance. Let me make mistakes, and I'll let you do the same. Let me show you that you're not my first love, but I know you can be my last."
The speech end softly and floats between them, and Tommy knew what he was going to say long before the final words settled into the air.
"I really like your convoluted metaphor," Tommy tells him with a grin, feeling warmth rushing through him as Evan's cheeks go faintly pink.
"Thanks, I worked hard on it. Kind of. I don't really know anything about music, I only played recorder for three months in fourth grade."
Tommy can't help but laugh softly at that, which prompts Evan to send him another one of his sunshine-bright smiles in return.
"So?" Evan fishes, standing in the way of his that makes it seem like he's somehow physically able to flutter his eyelashes up at someone who's the same height as him. He has to know what a unfair move it is; has to know how expertly it slips past all of Tommy's defenses and settles snugly in the curves of his heart.
"So…" Tommy drawls, but for all of Evan's speech about sound and words and conversation, Tommy knows the right move here.
His hand comes up to gently tilt Evan's jaw, and their lips come together like they never learned what it meant to be apart. Tommy both hears and feels Evan moan softly at the sensation, coming in tandem with Evan's arms wrapping around Tommy's waist without hesitation. The kiss could have gone on for minutes or hours, Tommy's too lost in the feel of it to tell. He backs them up enough so Evan's back bumps into the truck and Tommy's free hand comes around to land on the tailgate and keep Evan still.
The metaphor must have really resonated with Tommy though, or maybe he really has watched too many RomComs, because for a moment it's like he can hear a soft, romantic melody swelling around them. It registers but Tommy's too focused on EvanEvanEvan to be concerned, so he just presses a thigh into the side of Evan's leg and brings both hands up to cradle his jaw and deepen the kiss.
It doesn't last long, because Evan seems to hear Tommy's delusion too and suddenly he's breaking away from Tommy with a giddy and full laugh.
Tommy makes a confused noise and finally tears himself out of his Evan Buckley haze to look back towards the hanger and see that Donato is leaning against the side of the building, holding up the hot pink Bluetooth speaker she uses to torture them all with whatever newest band she finds each week. She's got a wide grin paired with her aviators cutting a clean line across her face, and in her other hand her phone is pointed directly at them. Tommy feels Evan's forehead land softly against his cheek and both of their shoulders shaking from laughter.
"Lucy! C'mon, I was doing so well, I didn't need the assist!" Evan yells out, and Lucy yells something unintelligible back.
Tommy can only close his eyes, feeling the setting sun across his eyelids. He thinks he couldn't get his mouth to drop out of a smile if he tried. It's warm—so warm in this moment. For all that Evan has told him about how Tommy chased away the quiet, he knows that he owes Evan a speech about how Evan chases away the frost that's always, always been woven into Tommy's bones. Tell him about all the ways Tommy has felt too cold for these past few months; how right now he feels like he's thawing.In a bit, after another kiss or two or three or four, he'll offer to take Evan home, to make them dinner and tell him all about it.
For now however, he feels the sun on his face and hears the song that Lucy played being drowned out by hoots and clapping from the entirety of Harbor's A-Shift. With gentle hands he turns Evan's head to face his once more. For now, he'll live here, in this RomCom moment at last.