1 - 20 of 41 Works by Jinko
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Tommy laughed, absolutely smitten. “You look ready to take me out back and piss on me to stake your claim.”
Surprisingly, he heard Evan’s sharp intake of breath, felt the slight tensing of his shoulders.
“Oh?”
“That’s new,” Evan confessed with a flush growing over his cheeks.
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After getting back together, Buck and Tommy decide to take it slow and not just jump into bed together straight away.
An attempted mugging the night they decided to take that step makes them a little more desperate than they planned.
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Buck came without Tommy's permission.
Tommy has to punish him.
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“What new game, huh? What has my super smart nephew learnt?”
“It’s called ‘Cockblock Toddler’.”
The door closed in Evan’s face as Howie turned abruptly, leaving Evan and Tommy in charge of the baby.
“You were played,” Tommy told Evan from the bed, who didn’t care at all as Nash started to babble.
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Being pregnant did not make Buck a damsel in distress.
The earthquake, however, made him a pregnant person in distress because a whole fucking building had collapsed around him and he was stuck in some Goddamn pocket of rubble with his ex.
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Fuck-toys didn’t move, they accepted what they were given.
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“When they approached me with the idea of a secret wedding and told me that their friends and family wouldn’t know, I asked how they intended to keep it a secret from their loved ones. The answer was apparently very simple: Buck has a clipboard.”
It got the groans they predicted. Some laughed.
“And when I asked them why they wanted a wedding like this, without groomsmen, that was apparently simple, too: they both wanted Eddie to be their best man, and neither wanted Chim to give a speech.”
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The Diaz men steal Buck's clothes. He has feelings about it.
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Tommy understands Buck's mental gymnastics.
Buck loves him for that.
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“What can I get for you?” When Buck opened his mouth to object, Tommy intervened. “We asked you out for drinks, we also know how much LAFD firefighters get paid compared to how much we earn. Let us pay.”
Buck gave in. “I’ll have an IPA.”
“Besides,” Eddie said and lowered himself onto the barstool next to Buck’s as the bartender shuffled off to the tap, “you’re a subscriber, right? You’re basically helping to fund this anyway.”
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Buck spots his favourite OnlyFans entertainers. They spot him in return.
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Eddie was no longer a Catholic, he was converting to whatever religion would allow him to worship huge cocks, meaty thighs, large and reliable hands with thick and long fingers perfect for prostate massages and high-risk rescues. He wanted Buck and Tommy and the four-hundred-plus pounds of them on a dais; he wanted stained glass windows of pecs so developed they could’ve been tits, hymns about the aches that came with swallowing lengthy dicks and the joys of fondling hefty balls.
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“Good morning, Eddie. Please, come in. Take a seat,” Buck sighed, and Tommy swatted him on the arse playfully, as if reprimanding him on his soured mood, and switched the stove back on.
Eddie cleared his throat. “I had sex with a man last night.”
Buck froze.
The stove was turned off again.
Tommy’s, “Good morning, Eddie. Please, come in,” came out a lot friendlier than Buck’s.
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It took him maybe half an hour for him to realise that Eddie didn’t give a fuck about his plan.
He put together the yoghurt and muesli pots, he sliced and diced the fruits, he made a raspberry compote. He cooked bacon and sausages and pancakes and waffles, and scrambled, boiled, and poached eggs. He toasted and buttered bread, gathered all of the condiments, and finally French-pressed the coffee.
The perfectionist in him loved the spread he’d made, and got as far as the hallway with the first tray when he heard the soft groans and grunts of his lovers.
Goddamnit, Eddie.
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"This meal, though? It was a team effort and it’s definitely queer.”
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Tommy and Bobby cook birthday lunch for Buck at the firehouse. Captain Gerrard isn't happy with how diverse his team is.
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“It’s a heating wheat pack. It’s helping me with my anxiety-induced tummy-ache. This is a thing?” he repeated and Tommy shrugged.
“Knocking someone up has never been appealing before, but the way you look…” Tommy’s eyes devoured Buck’s bump before he slowly made his way up to his face. “I really want to put a baby in you, Future Mister Buckley-Kinard.”
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Buck made a noise like he was drowning. “This is humiliating. It’s-it’s mortifying, I am mortified. I need fresh air, holy shit.”
Eddie watched, mouth open, as Buck just about flew off the bed in his haste to get out onto the balcony. The sliding door slid shut so firmly it rebounded and stayed half-open while Buck leant on the rail.
Had they been dating?
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“Wait, you thought I was coming out to you?” Buck asked. “I’m still straight, I’m still me. I just really like being with Tommy.” It didn’t seem that difficult to understand. “I’m an ally, so I feel like I’m a little more open-minded. It’s not a big deal.”
Ravi cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure the ‘A’ is for asexuality and aromantism, not…‘allies so hard they get a same-sex partner without being queer’ pass.”
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Chris sighed as if he was the wisest person on the planet and he was finally letting Eddie in on the secret of life or something. “Because you were on the phone to some guy when you have a perfectly good potential boyfriend in Buck.”
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Buddie week prompt : "I'm right here, I always have been."
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“Well, this is awkward.”
Every part of Buck wanted to tell Chim to go fuck himself, but he couldn’t, so he didn’t.
Nothing made a situation more awkward than pointing out the awkwardness of it.
“So which one of you two made the deathbed love confession?” Ravi laughed, and frankly, Ravi could go fuck himself, too.
The both of them could go fuck themselves because both Chimney and Ravi were correct.
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Chris doesn't let Eddie or Buck hug him as much anymore.
When they catch him, he talks his way free from their arms by telling them how they should be in each other's.