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slinging the truth between shots of whiskey

Summary:

After years of thinly veiled comments and barbed words, Rocker and Tommy finally sit down to talk.

Notes:

I felt super inspired to write the conversation I have been DYING for Rocker and Tommy to have in this universe and it feels like no time like the present. This is set directly after the hostage fic.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous before.” Luca says while leaning against the bar. “Sweetheart, are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“No.” Rocker shuts the fridge harder than necessary and leans forward, resting his forehead against the cool surface while taking a deep breath. “I don’t know. What if I fuck this up more?” The admission tastes like acid and he wants to throw up. Luca’s arms wrap around him from behind and he feels a steady heartbeat against his back while Luca’s head rests on his shoulder. 

“You’re going to be fine. You’re spending quality time with your brother.” 

“Who apparently thinks I fucking hate him.” It’s been three weeks since Tommy’s fiancé dropped that knowledge on him and it’s been living in his chest like a sack of bricks. “Do I act like I hate him?” It’s a question he’s been turning over and over in his head since that moment in the diner. 

“No, Donovan.” Luca’s lips brush over his cheek. “And I’m pretty sure your brother knows you care about him. Sometimes things are tense, but there’s a lot of history there.”

“I’m an asshole.” Rocker murmurs, leaning back into the safety of his partner’s arms. As much as he wants to turn, hide away here for the rest of the day, he knows he can’t do that. “Do you…” He pauses, afraid of the next question he wants to ask. Luca won’t have an answer for it. But if he did…it would probably break Rocker. 

“No,” Luca whispers with lips at his ear, “Genie doesn’t think you hate her.” Rocker clenches his jaw against the sudden tears pressing against his eyelids and a single one spills down his cheek. “And I don’t think Tommy really thinks that either. Do you want me to stay?” He offers again, lips gently touching the spot below Rocker’s ear that sends a shudder rippling through him. 

“No. Go surfing with Tan and Street.” Rocker turns his head, his heart fluttering as Luca’s lips find his easily. “I love you. Thank you for keeping me calm.” He murmurs softly, kissing Luca’s smile until it’s mostly their teeth gently clacking. 

“I love you, sweetheart. Til the end.” Luca rubs their noses together and steps back, though his hands slide down to loosely grip Rocker’s hips. “You need anything before I leave?”

“I don’t think we have time for the things I want to do to you.” Rocker murmurs, letting himself smirk. “Maybe when you come home.”

“Whatever you want.” Luca winks. “I’m going to grab my wallet and head for the beach. If you need me, give me a call. I’ll be checking as often as I can.”

“Yes, dear.” Rocker leans in and presses another chaste kiss to his lips. Luca’s fingers curl around his hip and he finally steps back, scanning Rocker’s face. Whatever he sees must relax him because he nods to himself and turns away. As he crosses the kitchen, Rocker can’t resist lightly smacking his ass. 

“Brat.” Luca calls him, voice filled with affection as he heads to the bedroom for what he needs. Chuckling, Rocker grabs a couple of beers and sets them on the counter. One thing is for damn sure, he’s determined not to be fully sober for this conversation. His twin should grant him that much. 

He’s debating if he should cook something when there’s a knock on the door and his nerves flood back in. Luca squeezes his shoulder as he walks past, pressing a kiss to his temple before he goes to answer the door. “Hey, Tommy.” He steps aside to let him in and glances back at Rocker. “I love you. I’ll text you when I’m headed back.”

“Love you. Stay safe.” Rocker smiles faintly. When the door softly closes, he takes a deep breath and looks at his twin. “Beer?” He asks, extending it like an olive branch. 

“My favorite.” Tommy rubs his thumb along the label and lifts an eyebrow. “Must be serious.”

“It’s something.” Rocker says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Go sit on the couch. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Sure.” Tipping the bottle to his lips, Tommy moves further into the living room and makes himself comfortable. Rocker grabs the charcuterie board Luca had helped him prepare, along with the small plate of double chocolate chip brownies, and carries both to the coffee table. Tommy’s eyebrows practically climb to his hairline. “Donovan-“

“You wanna starve instead?” Rocker snaps, the words coming out harsher than he intends. 

“Might be better than dying from food poisoning.” Tommy returns in a deadpan. “Seriously. Rocker…are you okay?” His expression shifts into one of concern. “You’re not dying, are you?”

“Christ, shut up.” Rocker drags a hand over his face and goes back to retrieve his beer from the kitchen. He moves to Luca’s usual armchair, needing the distance like a goddamn shield. “No. I’m not dying. And I don’t hate you, either.”

Tommy’s lips immediately press together. For a moment, Rocker thinks his twin might set down his beer and leave. Scoff, tell him he’s an asshole, and walk right out of his life. He would deserve it. But then something in his expression shifts and the beer gets sipped from before Tommy lets it rest between his thighs. “Evan shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” Rocker agrees, “but I fucking wish you had.”

Tommy’s quiet again. Rocker knows he’s a man who often needs to collect his words or risk putting his foot in his mouth. So he waits, leaning forward to pick up a piece of sausage from the charcuterie board. Eventually, Tommy sighs and nods his head. “I should have.”

“I think I’ve been pissed at you for a long time.” Rocker says, snatching a handful of cheese cubes and leaning back in the armchair. Luca’s scent fills the space around him, soothing the snarling animal that still paces underneath his ribcage. “I was mad at you when we were kids.”

“Don-“

“No. If we’re doing this, we’re going all the way back.”

“Then I think we need something a hell of a lot stronger than beer.”

“Whiskey it is.” Rocker gets up and goes into the kitchen to get everything they need. He gets the fancy ice from the freezer and throws the two globes into glasses, pouring two fingers of his favorite whiskey in each glass. When he brings both the glasses and the bottle tucked under his arm, Tommy hums his approval and raises an eyebrow at the label. 

“That was-“

“I know.” Rocker says roughly. He takes a deep breath and presses his thumb between his eyebrows, leaning forward. “One of the only things that’s stuck with me about the old man. He had good taste in his liquor.”

“Hm.” Tommy doesn’t press any further, taking a sip of the bacon flavored whiskey. “Remember the time you stole his vodka and tried diluting it with water?”

“Bastard still noticed.” Rocker cracks a smile and snorts, shaking his head. The shared memory quickly shifts in his head and he swallows thickly. “You tried to take the blame for that.”

“Two cracked ribs.” Tommy sighs. 

“It’s why I was so mad at you growing up. Why I…” He trails off for a moment, shame curling in his gut. 

“Why you disowned me, too.” Tommy finishes for him. A shudder runs through Rocker and he forces himself to nod. “We made up for that years ago, Donovan.”

“Yeah. But I was still so fucking angry with you back then. Sometimes I think I still am and that’s really fucking unfair to you.” He reaches for one of the brownies, biting off the corner of it and chewing slowly so he can stall them a little longer. The conversation has barely begun and he already wants to crawl out of his skin. He wants to tear it off piece by piece until he’s stripped bare, cracking open his ribcage so Tommy can see the bloodied and bruised mess of his heart. 

“Rocker,” Tommy sighs, “look-“

“I always resented you as a kid. Wished you wouldn’t cry so much. You…you always pissed him off. He was always in a fucking mood and when he took it out on you, I was more pissed at you than him. And that’s fucked up, isn’t it?” He drains the rest of his whiskey and the taste turns sour at the back of his throat. 

“Maybe a little.” Tommy admits. 

“I hated that you weren’t good enough for him. Too fucking soft, that’s what he always said. I wanted you to toughen up. I hated the way he talked about you and treated you and I resented you for not doing more to please him.” The words spill from his lips and he wants to throw up. “And then you got out. You fucking enlisted and you got to leave.”

“And you both disowned me.” Tommy reminds him quietly. “Said you hoped if I died, the sand would bury me so you didn’t have to waste a funeral.” Rocker flinches hard, his eyes burning. He slams the empty glass onto the coffee table and gets up, feeling as though he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. 

“And then you came home in one piece and I didn’t…I didn’t know.” Rocker growls at him, lifting a hand up to tug at his hair. “I didn’t fucking know you were a firefighter until your old captain ran into me at a bar and mistook me for you.”

“I didn’t think you’d care.” Tommy says in that detached way he has when he’s trying not to set off a bomb while stating the facts. 

“I didn’t want to.” Rocker confesses. His heart is trying to claw its way from his chest, hooking into his throat and threatening to choke him. “Showed up at your apartment drunk and scared the shit out of that guy you lived with.”

“Benny.” Tommy’s lips flicker into a ghost of a smile. “He was my first probie I trained.”

“I hated that I didn’t know a damn thing about you. Genie…she fucking went off on me when I complained to her. Told me I needed to get my head out of my ass and I didn’t want to listen. And then she said you’d sent her letters over the years and I…I wanted that kind of relationship with you. Supposed to be your brother and I started wondering if I was one of the monsters keeping you from being yourself.”

“That was over two decades ago, Don.” Tommy leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees while Rocker continues to pace. “Genie was the only person I wrote to when I was enlisted. Hell, she didn’t even know I’d been discharged until I showed up in Vegas at her place and needed a place to crash. Not talking to you…it was hard. Hell, most days it felt like an amputated limb. But you…” Tommy huffs out a strained laugh, his eyes suspiciously shiny when Rocker looks at him. 

“What?” He asks. Tommy swallows, his throat clicking audibly, and he lightly taps a nail against his glass while looking down at the floor. 

“You kept me going. You and Genie and even that old bastard. But it was mostly you. Every time I struggled through my day or saw another comrade fall…it was your voice in my head telling me to be strong. To keep going. You hated me when we were kids because of our dad and I hated you because you wouldn’t let me give up.”

Rocker’s legs threaten to give out and he collapses in Luca’s armchair, breath hitching as he stares at his twin. “You…what?” He croaks out. Tommy chuckles and sets his own glass aside, refilling Rocker’s and sliding it across the coffee table. 

“You weren’t the monster you thought you were. More like the world’s most annoying version of Casper the friendly ghost.” Tommy snorts. “Genie never told you that I asked about you?”

“Once.” Rocker says, searching for the memory. “It was when I graduated from the academy, right? You said congratulations. I told her to piss off and that…that I didn’t want to hear your name again.”

“She said she thought you were scared of disappointing dad if you admitted you missed me. But I never stopped checking in about both of you. I wanted to reach out when I joined LAFD, but I thought too much time had passed. Then you showed up drunk on my doorstep.” Tommy’s smile flickers and he slowly sips his drink. “God, you were a fucking bitch.”

“Takes one to know one.” Rocker fires back automatically, no heat in his words. “Kinard. You fucking…that’s the thing I’m most upset about. You fucking kept that bastard’s name after everything he put you through. You should have changed it.”

“Thomas Rocker didn’t have the same ring to it. Mom…you were always her favorite. It didn’t make sense to try and slot myself in like that. You had the right to Rocker. I never felt like I did.” 

“She did love you, Tommy. Loved us both so much. She just wasn’t good at showing it with him around.” Rocker drains half of his glass in a single swallow and damn near gags on the taste. “I’m sorry. I had both of them and you had a shitty twin who didn’t know how to protect you.”

“Therapy has helped me through it.” Tommy says. “And hey, we reconnected again when I became a firefighter pilot.”

“We lost so many fucking years. And then you came out while I was divorcing Val and it was such a fucking mess.” He scrubs at the wet trails suddenly moving down his cheeks and swallows thickly. “I envied you. You were finally happy and I was so goddamn miserable all the time. Thought I was going to end up like him. Miserable and alone.”

“But you didn’t. You’re not going to.” Tommy murmurs gently. “You found Luca.”

“He fucking saved me. Dragged me out of hell kicking and screaming and biting anyone that came too close. He tore down every defense I had and forced me to look in the mirror.” A watery smile forms as he thinks of the early years with Luca. How they’d clashed constantly and every time Rocker had called it quits, Luca had doubled down and told him to shut the fuck up and learn how to fight for what he wanted. “I told you how he pushed me to reach out to you again.”

“You did.” Tommy breaks off a small piece of a brownie and pops it in his mouth. “We didn’t kill each other over that lunch and you said you were sorry. Mostly.”

“You deserve a real apology. Always did.” Rocker says. “I’m fucking sorry, Tommy. For every grudge and shot I took at you while you were down. For treating you like dirt and for not being the brother you needed and deserved. I’m sorry I cut you out when you left. You were just trying to protect yourself and I felt abandoned. Thought if I’d made it work, you could do the same. I never let myself think about how miserable you were until these last couple of years.”

“When I started dating Evan.” Tommy murmurs. “Is he…” His brow furrows for a moment and he shakes his head. “I can’t see the connection, sorry.”

“For the first fucking time, you were happy. I got to see you smile and actually mean it. Every protective instinct I had came back tenfold and I’d have rather gnawed my own leg off than admitted that at the moment. I was a dick to him and to you because…I’d never seen you happy like that. All of that anger…I think it was directed at myself. You just happen to be a mirror.” 

“Well fuck.” Tommy’s laugh hitches and Rocker watches his face crumple with sorrow and comprehension. Wordlessly, he lets go of his whiskey and moves to the couch so he can wrap an arm around Tommy’s shoulders. 

“I’m sorry.” Rocker murmurs earnestly as Tommy bows his head down against Rocker’s shoulder and his whole body heaves. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispers. Tommy’s next sob rips through him with an intensity that steals Rocker’s breath and then he’s sobbing, too. Years of anger and grief pulse through him in waves, taking turns lapping at his insides until he feels hollowed out. Every pointed statement and scoff flits through his memory, dragged to the surface and exposed until he realizes the raw pain is just how he’s healing. Now that he’s facing his anger and confronting it, those memories can finally be laid to rest. 

He doesn’t know how long they hold each other, but eventually Tommy straightens up and wipes at his eyes. He collapses back into a heap and Rocker joins him, purposely knocking their shoulders together and aiming an exhausted grin at him when Tommy elbows him in the ribs. “Fucking hate you for making me cry.” He says. Tommy rolls his eyes and elbows him again. 

“Quit being a dick, Donovan.”

“Bite me.” Rocker grumbles. 

“You were wrong, by the way.”

“About what?” He asks against his better nature. 

“You did protect me when we were growing up. You taught me how to fight. How to take a punch.” Tommy says quietly. “Said I was going to get myself killed if I tried to fight dad, but then you taught me the basics.”

“Told you not to go up against people bigger than you if you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing.”

“You did look out for me, even if you didn’t realize it back then. So I need you to stop beating yourself up, Don. I forgave you. Now you need to forgive yourself.”

“I don’t think I know how to do that.” Rocker admits quietly. 

“Then go back to therapy about it. I can’t fix you. But I can support you.”

There’s more that needs to be said. Rocker probably owes his twin another hundred apologies a day for the rest of his life and then eternity to come close to making up for the past. But Tommy’s right. Even if it pains him to admit it. “You want to order pizza and try to beat Luca’s high score at pinball?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Three hours later, Luca returns home to find them drunk and playing video games. Rocker’s currently driving in reverse on the screen and Tommy’s repeatedly driving his character off a cliff. “See?” Luca says over his shoulder. “I told you they were fine.”

“He just never answered…” Buck says, trailing off as he enters the living room. “Uh…what exactly happened here?”

“Got drunk. Ordered pizza. Got more drunk. Beat Luca’s pinball record. Time for games.” Rocker says, refusing to look away from the what he’s doing. The screen keeps telling him he’s going the wrong way, but he’s determined to do the whole race in reverse. 

“And are things…okay?” Buck asks, sitting down next to Tommy. 

“Yeah babe. He doesn’t hate me.” Rocker steals a look to glare at his brother for giving him away. 

“You promised we’d play it up!”

“He’s my fiancé, I can’t lie to him!” Tommy pouts and Buck laughs, leaning in to kiss him. Swearing, Rocker turns back to the screen until a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. He leans against Luca’s wrist immediately and when a calloused hand moves through his hair, he damn near purrs and lets his eyes slip shut. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Luca’s lips press to his temple. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Rocker murmurs quietly. He feels lighter than he has in years. When he’s sobered up, he’ll need to send Buck some kind of basket to make up for the trouble. Maybe one filled with lube and those stupid chocolates that he and Tommy seem to enjoy. “Beach fun?” He asks, trailing his lips over every inch of Luca’s arm that he can reach. 

“It was great. Tan and Street say hello.” 

“Wanna hear all about it. Shower time?”

“You can stay and hang with your brother.” Luca murmurs. 

“Nah. He and Buck can leave,” Rocker says as he tosses his controller toward Tommy. His brother yelps as it hits him square in his stupid cleft. “Everyone out who isn’t getting a blowjob in the shower!”

“Baby, we’re leaving.” Tommy announces, grabbing Buck’s wrist and stumbling up onto his feet. “I do not want to hear them again.”

“Gotta stop dropping by unannounced.” Rocker smirks at him and grins. “Basketball Thursday?”

“See you there.” Tommy says, accepting Buck’s arm around his waist and leaning heavily into his fiancé. When they’re both gone, Rocker turns to Luca and wraps his arms around his waist. 

“Hi.” He whispers, watching the older man’s face crinkle at the corners. 

“You guys okay now?” Luca asks, lifting his hands to cradle Rocker’s cheeks. He brushes the pads of his thumbs carefully over Rocker’s skin and his chest nearly cracks open. He fucking loves this man and the way he feels cherished. He thinks he knows his future now. Maybe the idea of marriage isn’t so terrifying after all. 

“Yeah, honey. We’re good.” 

Notes:

Thanks for reading! As always, kudos and comments keep me going! If you like this, you can find me on tumblr at this same name and also please check out my other fics!