Archive of Our Own ^beta

It goes like this. They are bored , capital B and all. Eleven hours with zero calls. Inventory perfected. Stocking and restocking absolutely fucking devoured. Kitchen polished — even behind the fridge. Naps taken. Several games of Spades lost. Reality TV binged. And then— Then Hen finds the Kool-Aid pouches left over from one of the station’s Halloween community events last year. And Buck? Buck stares at his Blue Raspberry pouch and gets an idea.

“Wait, don’t drink them!” he exclaims, rushing to his feet from where he’s sprawled on the couch, admittedly too dramatically for the cause. All heads snap to him.

“Why? Did you poison them?” asks Chim, looking suspiciously down at the Tropical Punch Kool-Aid he’d picked out.

“No, but— We could play a drinking game,” he suggests, a bit awkwardly.

Hen raises a brow, holding her Strawberry Kiwi one. “With Kool-Aid?”

“Well, we can’t bring out tequila on shift,” he reminds her. “We could play— I don’t know, Never Have I Ever?”

“We could pretend this is some shitty college jungle juice,” says Eddie, taking a small sip of his Cherry one. “Tastes the same.”

“That’s because you picked a shitty flavor, Eddie,” says Chim. “Tropical Punch is obviously the best one.”

“No, it isn’t,” says Hen.

“Then how come you all picked different ones but me and Ravi both picked Tropical Punch? Tropical Punch empowers all else.”

“My Grape one is also nice,” says Bobby. You can’t argue with Cap, so they end it there.

“What gives, though?” asks Ravi. “If we’re going to be playing Never Have I Ever like we’re at a frat party, there needs to be an endgame reason for it.”

“Killing time not enough for you?” asks Hen.

“Well,” says Buck, thinking. “There is one job no one’s done yet. The job.”

“Oh, no,” Chimney gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would,” says Buck sheepishly.

“What are they talking about?” asks Eddie, clueless.

“The showers,” Hen explains.

“Whoever finishes their Kool-Aid first will need to clean the showers,” announces Buck. “And I’m pretty sure Chim shaved there a few days ago.”

Everyone who’d been sipping in that moment, stops at once. Ravi even tries to somehow slide the contents he had in his mouth through the straw back into his pouch. 

“So, we on?” asks Buck, looking at everyone in their various spots around the loft. “Because someone will need to clean the showers anyway.”

“And it’s going to be you, Buckley, because I will devour you in the game,” promises Chim.

“Hey, you can’t target anyone in Never Have I Ever,” says Hen. “Them’s the rules.”

“I miss when you were fun, Hen,” Chim answers, letting out a sigh.

“Oh, I’m not fun now? I’ll show you how fun I am,” threatens Hen. “Never Have I Ever binged all seasons of Gilmore Girls in two weeks.”

“You just said—!”

“Drink up, Chim,” says Hen, grinning.

Defeatedly, Chim sips from his Kool-Aid.

“Never Have I Ever — Wait, how nasty can we get with these, Bobby?” asks Buck.

Bobby shrugs, “I’d prefer a professional work environment.”

“Okay,” drawls out Buck. “Never Have I Ever had a steamy dream about someone in this room,” is what he settles for, taking a small, innocent sip.

“Buck!” exclaims Bobby.

“What? I didn’t say sex dream.”

After a look around the loft, Buck finds that only he and Eddie beside him on the couch have taken sips.

“Wait, how come me and Eddie are the only ones drinking?”

“Truly curious, man,” whispers Chimney. And then, louder. “Never Have I Ever belted out a love song at karaoke to serenade someone.”

Flushing from head to toe, Buck takes a sip. Chimney’s Bachelor party might’ve taken a turn and drunk Buck might’ve totally embarrassed himself by dedicating My Heart Will Go On to Eddie in front of his entire team. You know, as a joke! He wasn’t actually trying to serenade him.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one!” exclaims Ravi. “Never Have I Ever worn the uniform for roleplay.”

Although they try to cover it up, Bobby, Hen, and Chimney drink.

“You drink if you have done it, Chim,” reminds Buck.

“Who says I haven’t?” he challenges back.

“Ew!” Buck winces. “It better not have been with my sister!”

“Well—”

“Never Will I Ever clean the dishes,” says Bobby, thankfully putting that mental image to an end. Everyone stares at him.

“That’s not how you play the game, Cap,” says Buck, endeared. “You’re supposed to form a sentence about something people have done in the past. Never Have I Ever.”

“Oh,” says Bobby. “Then, Never Have I Ever… Left dishes for Bobby to wash after he’d already made the meal for everyone.”

Guiltily, everyone but Bobby takes a sip.

“Never Have I Ever pretended to enjoy Eddie’s cooking,” says Buck, to relieve the tension.

Once more, everyone takes a sip.

“I guess that’s fair,” says Eddie. “Though, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for you, Hen.”

Hen shrugs. “I’m just emotionally supporting everyone else in their pain and suffering.”

“Ha-ha,” deadpans Eddie.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t gone yet,” realizes Buck. Eddie’s expression goes blank.

“Never Have I Ever… I don’t know, broken a bone?” he forms it as a question.

Buck groans. “You couldn’t have come up with a more boring Never Have I Ever if you tried, man.”

“Everyone sipped though, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, because we work at a firehouse.”

“A cursed one, at that,” adds Ravi.

“Okay,” sighs out Eddie. “Never Have I Ever wanted to punch Buck in the face?”

“Do I take two sips if I’ve done it?” asks Chim.

Once again, everyone takes a sip. Buck tries not to feel offended.

“Never Have I Ever peed in the station’s showers,” goes Hen.

“That’s disgusting!” says Bobby.

As discreetly as possible, everyone takes a sip.

“Well, whoever loses will sure take those sips into consideration,” whistles Hen.

“Never Have I Ever hooked up with another first responder,” goes Ravi.

Bobby, Chim, Buck, and Ravi himself take sips. Buck’s mind is already flooding with ideas about who that first responder Ravi has hooked up is. It hasn’t slipped his attention that he and Martin from B-shift have been extra friendly lately.

“Not anyone from this house, though, right?” asks Bobby. Ravi shrugs innocently. Bobby looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Never Have I Ever lied to my boss,” goes Chimney.

Everyone but Bobby sips.

“Okay, now you’re just riling me up on purpose,” complains Bobby.

“I’ve got another one,” says Chimney, smirking. Oh no. “Never Have I Ever sent a nude to a coworker.”

Oh no fucking indeed.

“That was by accident and you know it, Chim!” Buck practically shouts.

“Doesn’t erase the fact that you did it,” he teases. “Though, I think that, at this point, it’s safe to say that nude was going to be accidentally sent to a coworker anyway. Just not me.”

Buck flushes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Take your sip, Buck.”

“Never Have I Ever stolen Buck’s tuna sandwich,” he fires back as soon as he’s drunk.

Chimney hesitates only a second before taking a sip.

“I fucking knew it was you! You disgusting thief!”

“It just looked so good and we were having back-to-back calls… I wanted a snack.”

“You could’ve had literally anything else in the fridge that wasn’t labeled!”

“Fine, man, I’ll just get you a new one.”

Buck thinks about it. “Okay, but it has to be the one from Henry’s Bakery. They make the best sandwiches in all of Los Angeles.”

“Deal.”

“I’ve got one,” says Eddie. “Never Have I Ever wanted to say the Q-word to get out of an awkward conversation during shift.”

Everyone sips.

“Thought you didn’t believe in superstitions and signs from the universe, Eddie?” asks Chimney.

“I believe in some things,” he admits. “Since the bridge collapse, I have to agree with Ravi that our station is cursed.”

“Look at you, Eddie,” says Hen. “A grown and changed man. I’m so proud.”

“What about other things?” asks Buck. “What other signs from the universe do you believe in now?”

Eddie gives him a long, slightly pained look.

“You tell me.”

Buck feels all of his blood stir. Chimney coughs.

“Never Have I Ever put a heart emoji next to my friend’s name on my phone.”

Buck flushes ever further, taking a sip. Fuck Chimney.

“Wait, who?” asks Eddie, bewildered.

“Yeah, who, Buck?” teases Chim.

“Albert, obviously,” says Buck, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you guys know I had a crush on him when we lived together?”

Eddie pales. “Seriously?”

“No, Eddie,” says Chim. “He has a heart next to your name.”

Now, what the fuck?!

“Fucking traitor,” mutters Buck.

But Eddie’s just confused. “Why do you have a heart next to my name on your phone?”

“It’s just— A joke,” struggles out Buck. “Chim made me put it there.”

“Sure,” says the man. “I also made you draw hearts on the team’s shift schedule the week Eddie transferred back to the one-eighteen.”

Eddie gapes at him. “That was you?”

“This is getting ridiculous,” says Hen, heaving out a heavy sigh and looking between Buck and Eddie on the couch. “Never Have I Ever had serious sexual tension with a coworker for about six years and not done anything about it, even though it’s achingly obvious to everyone that you want to be with each other.”

The entire loft turns eerily silent. Buck swears everyone can hear his heart beating wildly in his chest. It for sure is the only thing he can hear.

And then, Eddie takes a sip.

“Oh my God,” breathes out Hen. “I didn’t think it would work.”

Buck remains frozen in his seat, clutching his stupid Kool-Aid pouch like his life depends on it. What is he supposed to do now?!

Eddie stirs beside him, looking over at his best friend carefully. “Are you going to drink, Buck?” he asks, a bit breathlessly.

Buck swallows thickly. He should drink. He has to drink. It’s true. It’s all true.

He doesn’t take a sip.

“Ah,” says Chimney loudly, popping his gum. “Never Have I Ever stolen a fire truck to have sex?”

“It’s called a fire engine, Chim,” reminds Bobby.

But Buck doesn’t have the energy to warrant an answer to that. He puts his Kool-Aid down on the arm of the couch and stands up. “I’ll be at the gym if anyone needs me,” he croaks out, making his way past his teammates to get downstairs and as far away as possible from everyone and their scrutinizing gazes.

“Buck, I wasn’t trying to—” starts Hen when he’s at the top of the staircase, but Buck cuts her off with a wave of his hand. Save it.

Once he makes it into the gym, he simply claims a seat on a bench, trying his best to not think about all those times he’d sat there, watching as Eddie exercised, providing idle, easy conversation to keep them both entertained. Trying his best to not remember the first time they’d been in the gym together, Buck spitting out jealous, threatened words at him and Eddie going along with them like he hadn’t been totally out of place.

What’s your problem, man?

You. You are my problem.

Buck wishes he could go back in time and punch himself. Or, you know, at least warned himself about how embarrassingly in love he would be falling in love with the man he couldn’t keep his eyes off of on that day. Warned himself not to encourage the one-eighteen to play Never Have I Ever on a slow shift six or so years later.

He grips the edges of the bench, his knuckles turning ice white, and thinks.

It’s how Eddie finds him, still and beaten, ten minutes later.

“Chim lost the game,” he announces, claiming a seat on the bench a safe distance away from him. Kind of like in that hospital room a few years back, when Eddie had promised his heart to him. “Guess he’s cleaning up his own pubes.”

“He deserved it,” says Buck, when he finally finds his voice. He cringes at how unsteady it sounds. “Look—”

“It’s fine, Buck. You don’t need to say anything,” Eddie cuts him off easily, and Buck can’t even be mad at him about it. It’s hard to get mad at Eddie in the first place. “Hell, I don’t know what Hen was thinking. But she wasn’t coming from a bad place, you know. Don’t be angry with her.”

“I’m not angry with her but rather the situation,” explains Buck. He has no space in his heart to ever be truly angry with anyone at the one-eighteen. “I mean, during a game at work? That’s not how that was supposed to happen.”

Eddie gapes at him.

“Oh?”

“I mean, fuck, Eddie,” says Buck, his heart drumming wildly in his throat from what he’s about to say. In a spun of bravery, he shuffles closer to his best friend slash probably love of his life. “I wasn’t going to sit there and admit that I’m in love with you in front of everyone. It’s a rather private matter.”

Buck watches as a breath tickles down Eddie’s throat.

“You’re—” he tries, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “In love, huh?”

“Obviously,” Buck fires back, leaving no room for Eddie to question the sincerity. “That’s what Hen said. And she’s right. It’s glaringly obvious to everyone that I am gone for you.”

“Gone for me?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “As in, completely, utterly, embarrassingly gone for you. And I’m curious, since you took that sip, if maybe—”

“Yes?”

“—you feel the same way?”

Eddie hesitates. Not for long enough that it terrifies Buck, but long enough for the absolute worst to happen. The bell ringing above their heads, a dispatcher’s voice flowing through the speakers, telling them about an emergency Buck has no room in his brain to take in.

“You have got to be kidding me,” is all he can muster, before Eddie nudges him to head over to the fire tru— Engine .

On the way over to the call, from what Bobby knows, some kind of accident at the Venice beach involving a stray cat, a tuna sandwich, and a hungry man, Buck and Eddie decidedly don’t look at each other. They’ve got lives to save, or something.

“This, Chim, is a warning to you for what happens when you get greedy about tuna,” Buck tells his friend, once they’ve taken in the scene on the promenade. A man in completely shredded swim trunks and cat scratches coating his entire ready-for-beach tan, is whimpering on the ground. Beside him, a fluffy cat is having a feast out of a tuna sandwich.

Hen and Chim assess the injuries, while Buck, Ravi and Eddie stand back, waiting on instructions. It’s just a medical call really, they’re pretty useless here. Until—

“Bobby!” calls out Hen. “The cat!”

The cat is in his hunting position, his tail wagging, as he glares directly at the man’s, Gerard’s, face. There is a small piece of tuna stuck to the corner of his mouth. Gerard’s eyes go comically wide.

Buck and Eddie jump forward, tackling themselves to the ground to grab the cat before he can make his attack, and the cat shrieks the moment Buck has his hands around him, keeping him and his violent, bloody claws a safe distance away from his head.

“Buck, take that damn cat to the truck and be careful,” orders Bobby. “Eddie, call Animal Control. Something’s seriously wrong with the little guy. We can’t risk it being rabies.”

“Rabies?” yells out Gerard. “I don’t want rabies! Am I going to die?”

“You’re probably just fine,” says Hen to comfort him. “He’s a stray. Strays can get violent when they’re hungry.”

Buck, having tucked the cat safely in his arms, listening as he calms down and begins to purr from the little strokes he gives behind his ear, follows Eddie to the back of the fire engine. Eddie fishes out an animal cage they keep in the truck since the whole turkey incident, and Buck carefully puts the cat inside, locking it.

“He’s a cute little guy,” coos Buck, tickling his tail through the cage. “Aren’t you, buddy?”

“Okay,” drawls out Eddie beside him, watching his friend carefully. “If you are this adorable with cats, you might be able to convince me to get one for Christopher.”

Buck flushes, straightening up to be on the same level as Eddie. Well, almost, give or take a few inches. “For Christopher, huh? Don’t think I haven’t seen that grin on your face when you save a cat from a fire.”

“You’ve been watching me?” teases Eddie.

“Always,” promises Buck. “You’re, uh, quite a pretty thing to look at,” he adds, ducking his chin. Flirting with Eddie is a brand new territory for him, and he can’t help but fumble with it.

Though, Eddie seems more than pleased, for he takes several steps towards Buck and—

Pins him to the side of the fire engine. Buck only manages a slight hitch at the back of his throat, before Eddie’s lips are on his and— Oh.

With their bodies pressed heatedly together, Buck feeling the dips and valleys of Eddie’s chest against his through their uniforms, Eddie easily takes Buck apart at his seams, exploring what amount of press and pace steals moans and groans out of his friend’s? lips. Buck is just a man, really, so sue him if he completely melts under Eddie’s attention on him.

Just as Buck is about to separate their mouths to say some probably embarrassing heat-in-the-moment thing, such as, lick me, perhaps?, someone is crossing the corner to where they’re stood, completely intertwined.

“Buck, Eddie, what’s taking so—? Oh.”

In a deft move, Buck and Eddie pull apart. Buck stands there, glancing around and whistling, while Eddie’s kind of just, frozen , one of his arms pressed against the truck.

Chimney picks up his radio. “It happened, guys,” he speaks into it.

Bobby’s voice comes out at once, “What happened?”

“Caught the two idiots making out against the fire truck,” explains Chim.

“It’s a fire engine, Chim!” A beat. “And Buck, Eddie? Get your asses back to work! Kissing against a fire engine — how unprofessional.”

“That’s a bit hypocritical, Cap, since my sources say you’ve done it with Athena.”

Bobby doesn’t warrant an answer for that. Buck grabs his own radio, saying “Sorry, Cap, coming,” into it, before flashing a grin at Eddie. Eddie, who stumbles into his shoulder as they start making their way back.

Except, Chim stops them. “So, when did they say Animal Control would get here?”

Oh, right…