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Chapter Text

The Parts We Play

Chapter one

Eddie’s day is ruined.

“You can’t be serious, Cap?” He protests, looking at Bobby imploringly. “You do remember what happened the last time Hollywood sent an actor who wanted to play dress up?”

Six months after Eddie had said goodbye to her on the beach Felisa Valdez had waltzed into the firehouse, publicist hot on her heels with an announcement that she was to shadow the 118 in preparation for a future role. The call from the chief had come a few minutes after her arrival confirming her visit and instructing Bobby to allow her out on calls to observe what the job entails.

It was argued, given the 118 had attended no less than four emergency calls in which they had rescued her from one situation or another, that Felisa was already more than familiar with the workings of a fire crew. Her publicist, however, countered that she was a victim on each of the calls and therefore needed to be the one in uniform. Bobby had drawn the line at that, but Felisa was given a seat on the engine and she observed them while they worked, albeit a little too closely at times.

The publicist had taken a near-constant stream of photographs for the duration of Felisa’s three-day visit, photos of her with the crew, photos of her being shown pieces of equipment, manning a hose, sliding down the pole, donning a helmet. In every one her hair had been perfect, her outfit on the tighter side and a pose that was unrealistic to the job at hand, but were posted all over her social media, tagging each of them at the official LAFD account.

Still, they had all survived the three days with no injuries and their dignity somewhat intact.

That was until the movie came out.

It turned out to be a low-budget B-movie, so low in budget that it bypassed the theatres completely and was released directly to TV. Felisa had excitedly called Eddie with the channel info and the date and time it would be on which had ended up being during a 24-hour shift. They had settled in to watch at eleven o’clock in the evening and that should have been their clue.

Felisa’s movie turned out to be, essentially, a very badly written and directed (and acted) softcore porno set in a fire station. Bobby had flushed and made a hasty exit to his office just fifteen minutes in when the first sex scene started, muttering about damage control and calling the chief.

“I do, and I was promised that wouldn’t happen again,” Bobby tells him, his tone placating. “Brass themselves have gone over the script and they’ve talked with the production team. It’s a big multi-million dollar movie this time with some big names attached to it.”

“Like who?” Chimney mumbles around a mouthful of celery and peanut butter, dipping the stick back in for another scoop. Pulling out his phone Bobby thumbs open the screen and scans his eyes over the email he had received with all the information.

“Todd Fame, Kelli Edwards, and Evan Buckley.” 

“No way, Evan Buckley?” Excitement fills Chim’s face and he sets the jar of peanut butter down on the counter. “Man, he’s done some good stuff, Time Wars, Echoes of the Past, Midnight Mirage, oh, and that rom-com that came out last year, Tatiana loved it. Are we getting him? That would earn me some serious boyfriend points.”

A silence fills the space after Chimney’s ramble, half a dozen amused faces staring at him. “Boy crush much?” Hen asks sardonically, a wave of sniggers following her words. “Isn’t he the one gossip magazines are always publishing articles on? I’m sure I’ve seen one about him having slept with half of Hollywood and constantly getting in bar fights.”

Bobby quirks an eyebrow at her. “Since when do you read gossip magazines?”

“Karen’s always picking them up when she gets the groceries,” Hen explains. “But my point is that maybe Eddie’s right, I mean, do we really want another Felisa incident?”

“Come on, Hen, those magazines are trash, there’s probably not an inch of truth in them,” Chim says, prompting another eye roll from his partner. “All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t judge him before we meet him, he’s a really good actor, okay? I’m not ashamed to admit he’s made me cry more than a few times.” Chim admits freely.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of opportunities to tell him that,” Bobby continues. “He’s coming by this afternoon to sign some personal injury waivers and then will join us for our next run of shifts.”

Chim all but dances on the spot as he whips out his phone. “I can’t believe I’m gonna meet Evan Buckley, I gotta call Tatiana, this is so gonna get me laid!”

“Eddie, I want you to be his liaison while he’s here,” Eddie’s attention snaps back to his captain.

“What? Why me?” Eddie protests. “Let Chim do it.” He points to the man talking animatedly on his phone.

“The last thing this guy needs is someone fawning all over him, you’ll treat him just like everybody else, and most importantly you’ll watch his back.”

“Watch his…Bobby, you’re not seriously going to let him out on calls with us, are you?” Eddie’s expression matches his flabbergasted words.

“I am, that’s why he’s coming in to sign the waivers. He needs hands-on experience, Eddie, and you’re the one I trust to keep him safe,” Bobby lays a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, leveling him with a look. 

“I just hate these Hollywood types turning up and feigning interest in the job that I love for a few days just to earn a billion-dollar paycheck,” Eddie grumbles. “They don’t care, Bobby, it’s just a game to them.”

“All you have to do is talk to him about the job, share some of your experience. It’s just for a few weeks and then he’ll be gone.”

Eddie sighs. “You promise?” He asks, sounding too reminiscent of a petulant child and Bobby just chuckles.

“I promise,” He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder before stepping away in the direction of the mezzanine, no doubt to start breakfast. “Hey, you never know, you might end up real close.”

Contrary to most people’s opinion, mainly Chim’s, Eddie isn’t so technology-averse that he lives in a screen-free world. He and Abuela sit down every week with Christopher to watch the latest episode of their telenovela, he takes Chris to the movies for new releases of his favorite sagas, and he’s even delved into the world of social media. Albeit cautiously. Which means that Eddie does, in fact, know who Evan Buckley is, and has even seen some of his work because he played Captain…Whatshisface in that superhero trilogy that Christopher was obsessed with the year before last.

Eddie could probably still recite some of the dialogue due to his kid having watched it on repeat for months on end, and had hunted down the last costume of the character for Halloween that year. For Christopher, not him. Eddie had been forced to dress as the villain.

So Eddie knows that Evan Buckley is good-looking. He’s an actor for Christ’s sake, of course he is. Everyone in Hollywood is ridiculously attractive, but that’s what you get when you can afford plastic surgery, stylists, and personal trainers. But when the man himself strolls in through the open bay doors that afternoon, a pretty and petite brunette woman next to him, Eddie isn’t quite prepared for just how fine a specimen the man actually is.

“Now that is a good-looking man,” Hen croons, eyes raking over the tall muscular body that is introducing itself to Bobby. “And I like girls.”

“You’re not wrong,” Chim mutters but his own eye line is fixed on the woman next to the actor. “Very pretty.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, watching as Evan Buckley chats to the captain, a large toothy smile plastered over his features. “He’s alright, I guess.” Eddie shrugs.

“Alright? Eddie, the man’s thighs are as big as my head.” She’s right. Eddie lets his eyes drift down to where the dark wash denim is wrapped around two meaty legs and he cocks his head slightly to one side as he allows his eyes to wander over the man’s form. Unfortunately, that happens to be the exact moment that Bobby gestures in his direction, pointing him out and Eddie snaps his eyes back up to find Evan Buckley grinning at him.

Face flushing and ignoring the cackling coming from Hen, Eddie shuffles over when Bobby beckons. “Mr. Buckley, let me introduce you to firefighter Eddie Diaz, he’s going to be the one showing you the ropes.”

Brilliant blue eyes sparkle back at Eddie, the left one catching his focus. A birthmark dots the skin of the eyelid and the space above and below the eyebrow and the pink of it contrasts beautifully against the color of the pupils. 

Huh. Eddie hadn’t noticed it before. Not that he had studied Evan Buckley’s face in detail, but when said face takes up the entirety of a movie theater screen it would be hard to miss. Perhaps it gets covered up, Eddie thinks, the make-up artists concealing it when he’s filming.

“Hi!”

Fuck. He’s still staring.

“Uh, h-hey, Ev—Mr. Buckley?” Eddie says, dying on the inside a little at how awkward he must be coming across.

“Call me Buck, please,” Buck reaches out a hand and grips Eddie’s firmly when he finally manages to extend it. “I hate being called Mr. Buckley.”

“Buck,” Eddie repeats, testing out the name. It suits him, he’s much more of a Buck.

“And this here is my talented publicist and my sister, Maddie,” Eddie’s hand feels suddenly cold as Buck lets it go in favor of directing their attention to the woman next to him. “She tells me where to be and when and helps me smooth over any problems with the press.”

“I feel like I’m the one constantly putting out fires,” Maddie jokes with a grin that matches her brother’s. “Maybe I should be shadowing you instead?” Buck rolls his eyes and Bobby lets out a bark of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck nudges her affectionately then turns his blue eyes on Eddie again. “Shall we get this show on the road?” He asks, smile still firmly in place and it takes Eddie a full five seconds to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and formulate an answer.

“Uh, yeah, sure, you don’t need…” He checks, looking at Bobby who waves a hand.

“Paperwork can wait, why don’t you give Buck the tour first while Maddie and I talk over some of the logistics.”

“Have fun,” Maddie calls over her shoulder as she follows Bobby to his office. “And behave!” She adds, punctuating her statement with a point of her finger as the two disappear from sight. Instantly Buck turns to Eddie, eyes wide and brimming with excitement as he practically bounces on the spot.

“Man, I can’t tell you how excited I am for this,” Buck says, leaning in close to Eddie like it’s a statement meant only for him. He gets a whiff of the man’s cologne, woodsy with a hint of something lighter, citrus maybe, and it works for him. “You know, just before I got my big break I actually applied to join the LAFD. Hey, I wonder if we would have worked together? Did you always want to be a firefighter? It just looks like such an awesome job and you guys are so brave, like, the things you have to do, I don’t know if I actually would have been able to, you know?”

Eddie waits for a pause in Buck’s excited rambles to be able to get a word in and gestures around the appliance bay. “You wanna see the trucks?” It’s hard not to grin when Buck does actually bounce on the spot that time, nodding vigorously. “Although, don’t let Cap hear you call them that, they’re engines.”

“Noted.”

As he shows Buck around the ladder truck and the ambulance Eddie can’t help but flash back to the last school group that came on a field trip. Buck’s energy matches that of the ten-year-olds who had climbed into the trucks and put on helmets.

Buck fires question after question at him, asking about various bits of equipment and what they do, what are some of Eddie’s most memorable rescues, what life is like around the station. Every answer Eddie gives him is met with more wide eyes and even wider grins and it’s kind of endearing just how childlike Buck’s wonder is. It’s refreshing. Eddie had been expecting him to be stuck up, just like he assumes every other big Hollywood star to be. But Buck has none of the attitude that Felisa had started showing during her time shadowing the 118.

“No way!” Buck exclaims, jumping down from the captain’s seat and looking at something over Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie turns, following his line of sight but Buck is already moving past him at a pace and jogging up the stairs to the second level. It’s not immediately clear what his intentions are but when he crests the top Buck makes a sharp turn to his right and before Eddie can stop him he’s reaching for the pole.

The pole that Ravi had only just finished waxing moments before Buck arrived, and who is known for using far too much grease leaving the pole out of action until it can air dry a little before being deemed less of a death risk to slide down.

“Wait!” Eddie shouts, but Buck’s hands are already wrapping around the pole, his long legs quickly following suit as he steps off the platform. His body hangs in the air for a split second before dropping at an alarming rate, and Eddie darts forward even though he knows he has zero chance of catching Buck.

Sure enough Buck plummets to the ground, landing hard on the floor ass first. Eddie makes it just in time to make a grab for the man’s shirt, grasping a fist full and stopping his head from smacking into the concrete. 

“Jesus,” Eddie exclaims, dropping to his knees next to him. “You okay? Any pain?” He releases Buck’s shirt in favor of placing his hands on either side of his hips, pressing against his pelvis and feeling for any movement in the bones.

“Ah!” Buck lets out a yelp but before Eddie can ask where it hurts the yelp turns into what can only be described as a giggle. “That tickles.” Buck grins up at him, twisting slightly in Eddie’s hold.

“You’re not hurt?” Eddie checks, hands still bracketing Buck’s hips.

“Just my pride, are fire poles always that lethal?” He glares up at the pole as though if he does so for long enough it might apologize for its actions. “Not something I thought I’d need a stuntman for.”

“Jesus, just please don’t sue the department,” Eddie jokes, swept away by Buck’s continued mirth. “I don’t think Bobby could handle the stress.”

Buck squints up at him. “Is that a thing people do?”

“You’d be surprised at the things people try to sue us for,” Buck pushes his shoulder off the floor, leaning on his elbows as he looks up expectantly, perhaps for Eddie’s most outrageous ‘I’m going to sue you’ story, and it’s then that he realizes he’s still holding the man’s hips. “Uh, sorry.” 

Eddie snatches his hands away as though burned. The last thing he needs is a big Hollywood movie star to make a claim Eddie tried to grope him, but Buck just grins wider and holds out a hand for Eddie to help him off the floor.

“So, you wanna show me how to slide the pole the right way?” The grin morphs into something different, something…teasing, maybe. But before Eddie can make any sort of response Bobby reappears from his office, chatting animatedly with Maddie, and Buck bounds over to her.

“Maddie! Hey, Maddie! I slid down the pole, it was so cool, you wanna see?”

When Eddie turns up for his shift two days later Buck is already there, an oxygen tank strapped to his back, and listening intently as Ravi shows him how to tighten the straps on the mask. Buck’s eyes follow Ravi’s hands as they work the straps through the buckles and he copies the action with his own mask, slipping it over his head and pulling out the slack.

Ravi gives him a thumbs up which Buck returns animatedly, then he catches sight of Eddie over by the bay doors.

“EDDIE! LOOK,” Buck’s voice is muffled behind the mask, but Eddie can hear the pure excitement as he points wildly at his face. “I DID IT!” 

Eddie smiles and waves as he makes his way to the locker room to change into his uniform. If there’s one thing he’s learned from meeting Buck when he first visited the station, it’s that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. The second is that the man’s energy is infectious. After successfully managing to stop Buck from almost falling to his death on the fire pole a second time, Eddie watched as he led his sister around the station, pointing out all the things that Eddie had shown him.

After the disastrous reappearance of Felisa in his life Eddie had been convinced that all celebrities were alike, vain, selfish, and fame-hungry. But the Evan Buckley he had met was nothing like the Evan Buckley that was written about in the papers and magazines, there was no cocky attitude, no peacocking. Instead, there was a boyish charm that had Eddie grinning along with him.

“Who’s that?” Eddie starts, spinning on the spot to find Buck peering over his shoulder and into Eddie’s open locker. He follows Buck’s eyeline to the photo of Christopher taped to his locker door.

“That’s my son,” Eddie says, brushing a gentle finger over the picture.

“Woah, you got a kid?” Buck leans in further, pressing against Eddie’s side to see the picture better, all concept of personal space completely ignored.

“Christopher,” Eddie breathes. Buck is so far into his space that he can smell the cologne the man is wearing. He knows nothing about cologne other than what he likes, but this one smells expensive. “He’s 7.”

Buck’s smile widens even more than Eddie would have thought possible as he continues to scan the photography for every little detail. “And super adorable. I, uh, I love kids.” He confesses, flicking his eyes up to Eddie’s like he’s anxious for whatever reaction he’ll get.

“I love this one,” Eddie adds, unable to turn away from the bright blue of Buck’s irises. “I’m all he’s got, his mother’s not in the picture.”

“Oh?” Buck’s face does something complicated that Eddie can’t decipher.

“She passed away last year. But we were separated for a long time before that.” He explains, unsure why he suddenly feels the need to clarify that point to Buck or divulge his and Shannon’s situation at all.

“I’m sorry, that must have been really hard,” Buck’s expression, whatever it was, softens instantly and Eddie feels a little guilty for it. “Losing her, I mean. Not that being separated wasn’t tough but…for Christopher. Well, for both of you. To lose her, that is.” The way Buck trips over himself to get his words out is kind of endearing and not something Eddie expects from a talented actor. 

Not that he’d admit it to anyone, but in the four days between meeting Buck for the first time and turning up for his shift that morning Eddie had added as many of the man’s movies or TV appearances as he could find on the various streaming services to his watch list. He’d watched a few of the child-friendly ones with Christopher, and some of the more grown-up ones after he’d tucked his son into bed.

Eddie was impressed with the man’s range. He didn’t stick to one genre or type of character, instead seeming to adopt something different with every performance, from high-adrenaline action to fantasy, and even a romance or two thrown in. The same-sex romance film had been the biggest surprise, especially after what he’d heard from Hen about the tabloid rumors of Buck being a serial womanizer. But there had been more than a few extremely intimate, but tastefully shot, sex scenes with a male co-star, that had left Eddie blushing.

He was starting to think that the world was being fed a false picture of Evan Buckley.

Buck tips sideways as Rodriguez takes the turn a little too fast, almost ending face-first in Eddie’s lap. 

“Might want to hold on to that,” Eddie points to the handle attached to the roof of the cab just above the door frame. “Things can get pretty bumpy.” Buck fumbles for it, pitching the other way and slamming into the door as the truck turns again.

“You’re telling me!” Buck grins, yelling despite the headset he’s wearing, and his fingers start to turn white from how tightly he’s gripping the strap. “It’s like riding a rollercoaster that’s come off the tracks!”

“Hey, we’ve been called to one of those,” Chim points across the cab at Buck. “You could tell the movie producers about some of our calls, they could get written in. Maybe we could all get a cameo, I always wanted to be in a—”

“Alright, listen up,” Bobby’s voice crackles through the headset, interrupting Chim’s tangent. “We’ve got a three-car MVA, dispatch says there are no serious injuries reported but we’ve got two people who need extracting. Eddie, I want you on the jaws, Hen and Chim be ready to triage.”

“What about me?” Buck asks, reaching with his free hand to straighten his headset when another bounce of the cap dislodges it. “How close am I allowed to get?

“I’ll trust you to use your personal judgment,” Bobby twists in the captain's seat to look back at Buck. “I understand you’re here to see and experience what it’s like out there, but just remember that these are real people facing real situations. They’re scared and hurting and our job to not only to rescue them but to comfort them as well.”

Buck’s face turns serious at Bobby’s words and he nods solemnly yet doesn’t seem to be offended by the pointed comments. “Got it.”

He had tried sweet-talking Bobby into letting him wear an LAFD t-shirt but Bobby had stood firm, instead handing him a bright yellow hi-vis vest with the department logo emblazoned on the back. Underneath, in block capitals, in read volunteer. Eddie had been forced to hold back a laugh at the disappointment on Buck’s face as he slipped the vest on when the bell rang for their first call of the shift.

“Stick close to me,” Eddie tells him, nudging Buck’s knee with his own. “If you’re lucky I might let you have a go with the jaws of life.” He adds with a wink.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Bobby groans.

It’s not as bad a wreck as some MVAs they get called to, most of the vehicle occupants are already on the sidewalk, giving their statements to the police when the truck pulls to a stop. One car is wedged between two others, the doors on both sides dented in but an LAPD officer seems to be chatting to the occupants through the broken passenger window.

“Mother and daughter,” The officer relays once they’ve jumped out of the cab, grabbing the equipment they need to start the extraction. “Neither seem to be badly injured but the mom can’t get her legs out from under the dash and the little girl is trapped in her car seat behind her. We tried getting her out through the rear window but there’s not enough room.”

“Looks like we might have to take the roof off,” Bobby says, scanning his eyes over the car and assessing their best plan of action. “Eddie, grab a couple of saws.”

Jerking his head toward the rear storage compartments, Eddie motions for Buck to give him a hand, placing one of the large rotary saws and handing it to the man. Buck’s eyes light up.

“Man, this is so cool,” He says, more to himself than to Eddie. “What do I do with it?”

“Just hold it for now. I need to grab some other things.” 

“So, when he says taking the roof off, does he mean the whole roof?” Buck asks. 

“Yeah, see where the side of the vehicle is crushed from the impact?” Eddie points at the car. “We won’t be able to get the doors open, and it looks like the mother’s seat has been shunted backward. The child seat would have kept the little girl safe but we’ll need to get the mother out before we can get access to her.”

Buck adjusts his grip on the heavy saw, hoisting it a little higher in his arms. “She must be so scared.” He says as he looks back at the car, his eyebrows drawing down in concern.

“Hey,” Eddie grips Buck’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. “It’s not a bad crash, they’re both gonna be okay. Let’s get to work, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck echoes.

Considering the girl can be no more than five or six, she's remarkably calm, smiling and waving at them through the window as Eddie talks Buck through the process of removing the roof. He explains the importance of removing any remaining windows before they begin cutting and even allows the man to have a go at breaking the last pane of glass.

It’s only once the machinery starts, the saws revving loudly as the blades begin to spin, that the girl starts to scream, covering her ears and shaking like a leaf in her car seat.

“HEY! STOP! STOP!” Buck waves his arms at Eddie, shouting over the din, and gesticulating wildly at the girl. Eddie cuts off the saw, craning in through the window to see what the problem is. “She’s terrified.”

Eddie gets it, he really does, he has a kid. But they don’t have any other option for getting the victims out. Buck, however, seems to know exactly what to do. He runs around to the opposite side of the car and leans in through the broken window. At first, Eddie thinks he’s doing just that, leaning in so he can talk to the girl but then Buck’s legs fly into the air as he shimmies his sizable frame right through and into the back of the car.

“Buck! Get out of the car!” Eddie shouts, waving for Bobby’s attention.

“She’s scared Eddie,” Buck yells back, taking hold of the girl's hands and prying them away from her ears. “It’s okay, Ma’am, I’m gonna stay with her.” He announces to the mother who’s desperately trying to comfort her daughter but can’t turn with the way her legs are pinned.

“Buck, you can’t stay in there while we cut the roof. It’s not safe.”

“Why not, they’re in here?” Buck counters. “Just give me your helmet or something.”

Bobby appears by his side and Eddie gestures inside the car. “He won’t get out.”

“Buck, I need you to get out of the vehicle,” Bobby says firmly.

“No.”

“Buck—”

I’m not getting out.”

“Buck, we can’t—”

“What’s your name, princess?” Buck asks the crying girl, ignoring Bobby and Eddie completely.

“Penny,” Penny’s face is red and wet with tears which Buck wipes away with a gentle hand.

“Hi, Penny. My name is Buck, and that’s my friend Eddie. I know you’re really scared right now and it’s gonna be super noisy, but Eddie needs to use that saw to get you and your mom out of the car. I’m gonna stay with you the whole time, okay, we’re gonna get through this together.”

“Buck,” Bobby says his name with the same tone Eddie uses when trying to reason with Christopher. “I can’t allow you to stay inside the car, it’s not safe.”

Buck just shakes his head resolutely. “Do what you have to do, I’m not getting out.” His face is set and determined and Eddie can’t quite believe the man’s gumption. Bobby lets out a frustrated sigh and looks to the sky for a moment as though trying to summon the strength to argue with Buck further before seeming to give in.

“Eddie, give him your helmet. Buckley, do not move so much as a muscle,” He points sternly at Buck through the window then turns back to the crew. “Let’s get this roof off so I can yell at him properly.”

Eddie tugs off his helmet, passing it through the window to Buck who seats it firmly on his head then returns his full attention to Penny. His face is so incredibly soft as he looks at her, holding on to both of her hands and leaning in close as the saws start up again, and Eddie has to tear his eyes away from Buck to focus on the task at hand.

Twenty minutes later the roof is off and the mother is out, strapped to a backboard as a precaution, and Eddie is prizing forward the driver’s seat with a crowbar. Penny and Buck are laughing about something and watching the two of them interacting is…well, it’s the cutest damn thing Eddie has seen in a long time.

“Princess Penny, meet Eddie, your knight in shining armor,” Buck grins at him as Eddie sets down the crowbar and pulls out a knife. He starts cutting at the straps securing the car seat in place, opting to leave the girl in it in case of any injury to her back in the crash. Penny giggles as Buck tickles her under her chin.

“Alright, it’s time for Buck to get out of the car now,” Eddie announces to the pair. “Then we’re going to lift you out and take you to the hospital with your mom.” Thankfully, Buck listens this time, promising Penny he’s not going far and climbing out over the deconstructed doorframe.

He heads back around to join Eddie, helmet still perched on his head, and together they lift the car seat out placing it directly onto a gurney and using the strapping to secure it in place.

“Buck come, too?” Penny asks, making grabby hands for Buck.

“Buck has to stay here and help us clean up, but your mom is waiting for you,” Eddie says before Buck can make any more promises to the girl.

“Why can’t I go with her?” Buck asks as the gurney is pushed away toward a waiting ambulance. “Don’t we have some kind of obligation?”

“We did our jobs. Now it’s time for the doctors to do theirs.” 

Eddie sets about gathering the tools littered around the remains of the car but he notices that Buck doesn’t move, eyes trained on Penny’s ambulance as it pulls away from the scene and heads in the direction of the hospital. 

He straightens up, tapping Buck on the shoulder and holding the saw out to him. “I remember my first few shifts,” He starts softly, pressing the saw into Buck’s hands. “I couldn’t get used to not knowing what happens to the people we save after we deliver them to the hospital. We never go beyond the glass doors, that’s not our job, we just have to get them there. Sometimes we can’t do that, either we lose them on the way or they’re gone before we even arrive on scene.”

“How do you deal with it now, the not knowing?” Buck asks, his voice husky with emotion that Eddie can see in his eyes.

“We carry on,” Eddie tells him simply. “We move on to the next call. Because there’s always someone else who needs our help and they deserve all of our focus to make sure that we get them through those glass doors.”

Buck nods slowly, his lips pursed, then takes a deep breath. “So, we move on.” He says after a moment, sounding resolute. 

“We move on,” Eddie echoes, catching sight of an angry-looking Bobby heading in their direction. “Might want to brace yourself.” He warns just before Bobby’s voice barks across the scene.

“Buckley!”

Chapter Text

Buck’s fifth day shadowing the 118 is one of those rare days when the bell stays silent.

It gives Buck a chance to learn about the less thrilling aspects of the job, ones that Eddie is sure won’t be included in the movie, but are good for Buck to experience. He works the man hard, giving him job, after job, after job, everything from topping up the engine fluids and polishing the trucks to checking stock and refilling the oxygen tanks. To give Buck his credit he follows every instruction, completes every task Eddie gives him without complaint, and even takes notes, scribbling in a little black notebook that Eddie has noticed him keeping in his pants pocket. 

By mid-afternoon they hadn’t had a single call, all the maintenance chores are done and the crew have dispersed around the station, some working out in the gym, others playing pool or ping pong, and the rest are lounging in the upstairs loft. Hen has out a medical textbook while Eddie and Buck are going head to head on Street Fighter, and they’re evenly matched for wins and losses.

“Bobby always says it’s strange to hope for boring, but we do,” Eddie tells him after Buck has complained about being bored for the fourth time.

“It’s not like I want like a big disaster or something,” Buck laments, sinking back into the cushions of the couch, thumbs mashing the buttons of the gaming control in his hand as his character gets in another punch on Eddie’s. “Just like a cat in a tree or something, anything to just get out of this place.”

“Well, it’s a good lesson for you that being a firefighter isn’t always as exhilarating as people think it is,” Hen pipes in without lifting her eyes from the medical textbook in her hands. “There’s a lot of other parts to the job that people don’t see.”

“Paperwork, polishing the truck, restocking the ambulance,” Chim lists, shoving a fresh piece of chewing gum into his mouth to join the wad already wedged between his teeth. 

“All of which you’ve done today,” Eddie adds, grinning mirthlessly at Buck over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Yeah, and now I hurt in places I didn’t know existed,” Buck grumbles as he kneads at his right shoulder blade as though demonstrating just how sore he is. “I mean, I keep fit, right? I hit the gym, I followed a strict workout regime when I played The Knave, but man, today was something else.”

“And that’s just the in-house stuff,” Bobby chimes in from the kitchen where he’s prepping the crew dinner for that evening. “Imagine how your body would feel after handling all the heavy equipment during a large-scale emergency.”

“Ladders, hoses, saws, jaws,” Chimney rattles off, counting on his fingers. “Axes, Halligan’s, oxygen tanks, spreaders, rams, Jafco’s, med kits, winches—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the point,” Buck chuckles. “You guys are badass.”

“It’s not about being badass, it’s just a different type of fitness level,” Bobby continues, waving a spatula as he talks. “For you, fitness is about staying healthy and looking good for a particular role. For us, fitness is a matter of life or death, if we don’t develop our strength and endurance to a high enough level we won’t survive.”

The amusement drops quickly from Buck’s face, a somber expression replacing it. “I never thought of it that way,” He admits, looking round at them all in turn. “That’s…that must be a heavy feeling.”

“It’s the life we chose.” Bobby declares proudly. “That’s the firefighting gig for you. We knew the risks when we joined the department, but it’s up to us to minimize those risks as best we can so that we can go home to our families at the end of every shift.”

“Well, I still think you’re all badass.” Buck grins, raising his coffee mug and saluting them all.

“The point is,” Chim lifts his arms over his head, cracking his spine over the back of the couch. “Some days we get all the action and some days are just Q word”

“Q word?” Buck squints in confusion, and Eddie takes advantage of the lapse in concentration to get the upper hand and finally manages to knock out Buck’s character.

“You know,” Buck looks at Chim in time to catch the man lifting a finger to his lips.

“Oh, you mean quie—”

“Okay, please someone tell me how to apologize to the fire gods,” Buck groans as they traipse up the stairs to the loft after the ninth call in four hours.

“The jury is still out on that one,” Chim mutters, shoving past Buck as he dashes to the kitchen to raid the cupboards of whatever food he can get his hands on. Bobby’s special baked mac n cheese has long since turned into a black brick of char headed nowhere except for the trash. “Some sources say we need to ring bells nine times to get rid of the curse, others say a human or animal sacrifice.”

Buck grimaces at the notion. “I’m not really down with that.”

Much to Chim’s excitement, when Buck turns up at the start of his second week of shadowing the 118 his sister pays a visit. Eddie catches sight of them chatting on several occasions over the course of the day in between photo ops and filming of some behind-the-scenes segments.

Eddie manages to avoid the camera for as long as possible but he’s eventually cornered as he’s topping up the washer fluid on the truck. He’s ushered to a couple of director-style chairs set up in a quiet corner of the station and has powder dotted over his nose and cheeks by a make-up artist.

“Is this really necessary?” Eddie grumbles, fighting the urge to sneeze when the power tickles his nose. “I’m not even going to be in the movie.”

“Sorry, I know this is all,” Maddie waves a hand and pulls a face which perfectly depicts how ridiculous Eddie finds his current predicament. “I promise we won’t keep you long. Taylor’s just going to ask you some questions about what it’s like being a firefighter. You know, what you love about the job and some of your most memorable rescues.” She elaborates and points to the red-headed woman talking to the cameraman.

The make-up artist is raking her product-covered hands through his hair when Buck ambles over wearing a pair of borrowed turnout pants and a tight-fitting t-shirt. Eddie swallows at the sight. This is the Evan Buckley he’s used to seeing on his TV, from the watchlist of the man’s acting credits he’s still working his way through. This Evan Buckley walks with a swagger and confidence that screams a man who’s used to performing, used to slipping into the persona of another person.

This is not the man that Eddie has gotten to know over the past few weeks.

It’s jarring, watching Buck talk directly to the camera as he recounts his experience of riding with the 118 and the highs and lows of firefighting life. Eddie wants to laugh when the low point Buck mentions was the day when nothing at all happened until he said the Q word.

He doesn’t want Buck to ever experience the lowest point of being a firefighter. Eddie wouldn’t wish that on anyone. He doesn’t even want to experience it himself.

Eddie can’t help but stare at the side of Buck’s face as he talks, fascinated by how easily he slipped into this alternate version of himself, and he’s staring so intently that he doesn’t even hear the question Buck puts to him.

“Huh?” Eddie utters idiotically and painfully aware that he likely resembles a rabbit caught in headlights.

“It’s okay, just be yourself,” Buck leans over the arm of his chair and whispers conspiratorially to him. Eddie looks between Buck and the camera, and the red-headed woman behind it. “Don’t worry, they’ll cut this bit out, won’t you, Taylor.” Buck smiles at Eddie before turning to the woman, a large grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye as he winks at her.

“Of course,” Taylor says, returning the smile in a manner that screams familiarity. Even as Eddie glances between the two he sees something exchange in the air, something that bites at him uncomfortably. There’s history between Buck and this woman and Eddie instantly feels an irrational spike of dislike for whatever that history might be. “Take it from the top.”

“So, firefighter Diaz,” Buck slips easily back into his on-camera persona, turning in his seat to look directly at him. Eddie feels pinned under the gaze but keeps his focus this time. “What made you decide to join the fire department?”

“Uh, well,” He shifts in his chair, sitting more upright as he chooses his words carefully. “What I missed most after leaving the army is the camaraderie, um, working shoulder to shoulder with a great team, and there’s none better than the one I found here.”

Eddie finishes his statement with a nod of his head, thinking he’s given enough of an answer to avoid any follow-up. “You were in the army?” Buck asks excitedly.

“Guy’s got a silver star!” The shout comes from the open access door to the parking lot where Chim has been hovering, pretending to wash the captain’s truck when Eddie knows he’s really trying to summon up the courage to talk to Buck’s sister.

“Silver star? Did you save a platoon or something?” Buck’s expression matches the awestruck sound of his voice.

“Uh, no, just a convoy,” This is the last thing Eddie wants to end up talking about but Taylor waves a hand at him from behind the camera, indicating for him to expand on his explanation. “I was an army medic. We were medevacing a wounded soldier back to base when we were shot down and engaged in a firefight. Nearly didn’t make it out.”

Eddie’s voice cracks on the last sentence and all he can do is pray that neither Taylor nor Buck push him for anything further. His eyes burn with the threat of tears that always come when the subject of his medical discharge comes up unexpectedly, and Buck must notice it as he calls for a break under the guise of getting some water.

He doesn’t run away but it’s a near thing, walking as quickly as he can get away with toward the locker room and Eddie’s grateful it’s empty, even if its ridiculous glass walls offer him no real privacy. It’s a few minutes maybe before anyone comes looking for him, but it’s just long enough for Eddie to pull his frayed edges back together.

“Hey, you okay?” Buck announces his presence by knocking on the doorframe, even though Eddie could see him coming, but he appreciates the sentiment.

“Sorry,” Eddie puffs out with a heavy sigh. “I, uh, it’s not my favorite subject to talk about.” Buck shuffles over and takes a seat next to Eddie on the bench. 

“Yeah, I got that. For the record, I’m sorry,” Buck nudges his shoulder against Eddie’s. “I’ve asked Taylor to delete the footage. It won’t get used.” Eddie turns to look at him, breath catching with how close Buck’s face is to his own. There’s a small smile on the man’s face and his eyes look ever so slightly misty.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie murmurs but Buck just shrugs and ducks his head.

“She owes me a favor.”

That irrational spike from before returns but before Eddie can ponder over what it means they’re being called back to resume the interview, Taylor taps a manicured finger on her watch and informs them she has a tight schedule to stick to. Buck leads him back to the waiting chairs, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly before the camera starts rolling again, and the contact is enough to help Eddie make it through the rest of the segment.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck says, reaching across and holding out a closed fist. Eddie smiles and bumps his own fist against Buck’s.

“Just promise me I don’t have to do that again.”

Buck laughs. “Deal.”

“Does this happen often?” Buck asks, leaning forward over the cab’s partition and tapping Bobby on the shoulder. Eddie latches a hand on the back of the man’s jacket and pulls him back into his seat just in time. Bobby turns to look back, eyeing Buck suspiciously.

“A system outage?”

“Yeah, like, shouldn’t this be the one system that doesn’t break down? That’s lives at risk, right?”

“It’s rare, but it can happen. But that’s why we have protocols in place for these situations,” Bobby tells him. “Tactical Emergency Mode means we will not be at the station today but driving all around the district to make sure that we are ready for anything that comes our way.”

“You ever see a breakdown like this before?” Eddie has to hand it to Buck, the man has been full on nothing but questions since his first day at the station, and Eddie knows he has a small notebook that he uses to jot down every snippet of information or knowledge one of the team gives him. 

“Once when I live in St. Paul. Blizzard took out the power grid around the call center and backup generator.”

“I’ve been through, like, three of these,” Hen adds, shaking her head. “I’m surprised they don’t happen more often, the way the city funds us. The department’s held together by chewing gum and spit.”

“Hey, come on, I like these old trucks,” Bobby says with a hint of nostalgia.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. I like them when they run.” Bobby and Hen both chuckle at Eddie’s joke just as the radio crackles with a call from dispatch.

“Engine 118, rescue 118, report to 550 San Vicente. Woman in labor, geriatric pregnancy, contractions very close.”

“Copy that. 118 enroute to 550 San Vicente.” Bobby responds over the sirens. “Buckle in, Buckley. Don’t let me catch you out of your seat while the truck is moving again.” Buck shoots Eddie a sheepish grin but obeys the instruction, pulling his seatbelt over his shoulders and clicking it into place. 

After a false start and a diversion through an empty lot, they finally arrive at the correct location, rushing into the building to find their pregnant patient on the floor of the lobby with labor fully underway.

The man clutching the woman’s hand looks panicked but relieved at their arrival. “Where the hell have you guys been?” He asks, voice giving away just how scared he must be.

“We are fighting a system outage, sir,” Bobby explains as he takes in the scene. “We apologize for the delay. Hen, you’re up. Eddie, start fluids.” Eddie gestures for Buck to stay by his side as he pulls out an IV bag. Buck watches intently as he always does and Eddie makes sure to explain the steps of the procedure.

“Always make sure you hold the bevel upwards at about 30 degrees. When you get a flashback of blood in the hub at the back of the cannula you’ll know you’ve hit the vein,” Eddie says. “Then just advance the cannula in, remove the needle, and tape into place.”

After securing the dressing Eddie moves his hand so the mom, Sonia, can grip it tightly, her fingers clamping down as another contraction rips through her.

“No time to move her, Cap, this baby is coming now.” Hen warns, glancing between the woman’s legs. 

“Is this your first?” Buck asks the father, who introduces himself as Roger, and Eddie recognizes the move as one he pulls himself, an attempt to distract from the panic of the situation.

“First and only,” Roger jokes. “I don’t think I can go through this again.”

It’s not long before Hen has a squirming bundle in her arms, the wriggling infant crying loudly as the crowd that has gathered at the commotion applauds his arrival.

“Baby’s got a set of pipes.” Eddie laughs, applying the clamps to the cord and slicing through it with the sheers. He watches as Buck pats the dad on the shoulder, a broad grin on his face and eyes a little wet as he turns to congratulate Sonia. His face morphs into one of confusion and he looks back to Eddie.

“Is she okay?”

Sonia’s eyes roll back as she loses consciousness and Eddie rechecks her vitals. “Blood pressure went off a cliff.” He says, sharing a look with Hen who’s still holding the screaming newborn.

“Hen, Hen, I got the baby,” Buck holds out his arms, carefully molding them around the baby when Hen relinquishes her hold, allowing her and Eddie to work on the mother. In his peripheral Eddie hears Buck reassuring Roger, urging him away from his wife’s side and giving them room to work.

“Listen, Hen’s the best paramedic I’ve ever met. Your wife is in good hands. Okay?” Just as with the little girl in the car wreck on Buck’s first ride with them, Eddie marvels at how the man so naturally is able to put people at ease, to comfort them when they’re at their most scared and vulnerable. But then, he guesses, it’s all just acting in a way. Just as he, Hen, Chimney, and Bobby have learned to school their features at even the most gruesome of injuries for the sake of the patient, Buck is putting on an act for the panicking father. “Right now, he needs yours.”

Buck guides the baby into his father’s arms and urges him back from the chaos, giving them room to work. In a matter of seconds, they have the mother on the gurney and are rolling her out of the lobby toward the waiting ambulance when the Lifepak screams out the loss of a pulse. Bobby’s call for a second ambulance for the baby is met with another instruction to stand by which is promptly ignored and he orders Eddie and Buck to take Roger and the baby to the truck before he disappears into the back of the ambulance with Hen.

The cab is silent as they follow the ambulance to the hospital, the occasional whimper from the baby the only noise apart from the sirens and Eddie watches as Buck keeps a hand on Roger’s arm, helping him to keep a steady grip as the truck weaves through traffic.

The ambulance has already stopped in front of the entrance when they pull to a stop and the rear doors are wide open, the gurney being unloaded.

“How is she?” Roger asks, rounding the back of the ambulance and looking down at his wife. The second he clocks the lack of continued CPR or rush to unload Eddie knows it’s been called, and judging by the harsh intake of air next to him, Buck works it out, too.

“I am so sorry,” Bobby says with all sincerity, gesturing for everyone to give Roger some space as he moves to his wife’s side.

No matter how many times he witnesses moments like these they get no less heartbreaking. A life cut short before its time. A family that should be celebrating their new arrival suddenly ripped apart.

“You were right. He’s perfect,” Roger tells her, his whispered words just loud enough for them to hear. “I wish you could see him.”

A sniff next to him draws Eddie’s attention from the grieving man in front of him and he turns in time to see a tear spill over and trail down Buck’s cheek. He realizes this is the first loss on a call since Buck has been riding with them.

Eddie wants to hold him, pull him into his arms and wipe away that tear. He settles instead for inching sideways, pressing the length of his arm against Buck’s and brushing the backs of their hands together.

Buck’s head turns and he’s so close Eddie can see every detail of the stubble on his chin. He looks so sad that it hurts to see, but Buck’s hand turns, and his fingers slot in between Eddie’s as his eyes seem to flick down to Eddie’s lips.

The baby lets out a cry and Eddie’s so lost in Buck’s eyes that he almost misses the sound of the monitor beeping that follows, but then it comes again. He throws his focus back to their patient and steps away from Buck, pulling their hands apart and trying not to acknowledge how cold he suddenly feels, and presses two fingers to Sonia’s neck.

“She’s got a pulse!” He calls, hardly able to believe it even as the gurney is pulled away and rushed inside the hospital, Roger following closely behind. He stops on the threshold, turning back and thanking them, and that seems to be the knife that cuts the strings of Hen’s composure. She lets out a sob, her legs giving out, and she’s caught by Bobby and Buck who help her down onto the back ledge of the ambulance.

“That was…amazing,” Eddie says, still stunned at what he’s just witnessed.

“No, that was a miracle.” Buck counters, one arm around Hen and the other tugging on his sleeve, pulling him into the group hug Buck seems to have initiated, Hen engulfed in the middle. 

With Buck pressed against his side, his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, the warmth returns, and Eddie doesn’t understand why it just feels so right.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” It’s late, most of the crew are in the bunks catching whatever sleep they can before the bell rings again, which means it’s just Eddie and Buck surrounded by the quiet of the night.

“Sure,” Eddie throws back as he fills the two waiting mugs with hot water, a black coffee for him, and a green tea for Buck. Eddie rarely sleeps in the bunks, preferring to simply power-nap on the couches in the loft. He’s slept in far less comfortable places during his time in the army and the couches here are a darn sight better than the one in his living room. 

It’s Buck’s first time shadowing them for a night shift, he’s been shown the bunks and allocated one of the spare ones but has opted to hang out with Eddie rather than use it.

“If you weren’t a firefighter what would you be doing?” Buck’s eyes look tired, and he’s resting his chin on his hand where his elbow is propped on the island counter. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs as he slides Buck’s mug toward him. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

Buck picks up the string to his teabag, dunking it in and out of the water. “What about when you left the army, did you go straight to the academy?” Eddie huffs out a dry laugh.

“No, I was nowhere near mentally or physically capable for that,” At Buck’s concerned frown he elaborates. “I was injured in the firefight after the helicopter crash, took three bullets and a couple of pieces of shrapnel. Add on to that some hefty PTSD and I was no use to anyone, not even my wife and son.”

Buck’s expression turns so sad. “I’m sure that’s not—”

“It’s okay, it’s true,” Eddie interjects, lifting a placating hand before bending down and resting his arms on the island. “I came home to a wife and a child who were practically strangers to me. Shannon and I were high school sweethearts, and we were practically kids ourselves when we found out she was pregnant. I enlisted the next day and shipped out for basic training two weeks later. By the time Shannon reached her second trimester I was on my first tour in Afghanistan.”

“That must have been tough for both of you,” Buck says sincerely, eyes soft as he looks over his mug at Eddie. It’s a heavy look that he doesn’t know what to do with.

“It was. It was harder on Shannon, though, effectively raising a baby as a single parent. Then Christopher was diagnosed and everything got harder.”

“Diagnosed?” Buck frowns, sitting up straighter on his stool.

“His CP. Cerebral Palsy?” Eddie clarifies when Buck still looks confused.

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Eddie waves off the apology. “There were some complications when he was born, he got stuck in the birth canal, but nothing really presented until he turned two. I was in Afghanistan while Shannon took him to appointment after appointment on her own and had to hear why he wasn’t walking or talking yet.”

Buck doesn’t offer any more platitudes, whether he knows Eddie will just ignore them or not he doesn’t know, but Eddie finds he just can’t stop once he gets talking about it. It’s easy to talk to Buck. Scarily so. He’s only known the man three weeks and yet it feels more like three years.

“I was a shitty husband, I don’t blame her for leaving.”

“She died, Eddie,” Buck says, voice kind as he reaches out and lays a hand over Eddie’s thumb stroking over the knuckles. Just like that day with Sonia, when Buck had taken his hand then, a warmth floods over him, almost tingling as it radiates from Buck’s palm.

“No, she left before that, after I was medically discharged. Her mom was sick, cancer, and Shannon wanted to come to LA to take care of her. But I was so…” Eddie waves a hand in front of his face, making a vague reference to his mental state at the time which Buck seems to interpret correctly judging by the small nod he gives. “I’d just gotten home, I wasn’t ready to pack up and move across the country.”

“You needed to heal,” Buck concludes, thumb still caressing the back of Eddie’s hand, the motion soothing. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, but I neglected what Shannon needed. So I woke up one morning to Christopher in the bed next to me and a note on the dresser saying that she needed time. We didn’t see her again for three years.”

“Jesus, three years?” Buck practically squeals and looks thunderstruck. “Chris didn’t see his mom for three years? And I thought my parents were shitty.”

“Buck, you can’t be mad at her,” Eddie scolds, although with not much intensity. “You don’t even know her.”

“Don’t need to,” Buck sniffs. “In fact, that makes it easier to be mad. I mean, I haven’t even met your kid but I know that he didn’t deserve to be walked out on like that, and neither did you.”

Buck’s hand, which is still wrapped over Eddie’s, squeezes gently and Eddie turns his hand over in a subconscious move until their fingers lace together.

“Would you like to?” Eddie asks without thinking.

“Like to what?”

“Meet Chris, he’s kind of a big fan.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot up and a huge grin breaks over his face. “He is?” Eddie nods.

“Yeah, he was obsessed with Captain Chaos for months, watched it on repeat,” Eddie grins back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket with his free hand, thumbing the screen on and tapping on the photos app. “He had the costume and everything.” He scrolls through the photos until he finds the ones from Halloween and hands the phone to Buck to look through.

Buck doesn’t let go of Eddie’s hand and Eddis finds he doesn’t want him to. The fit is perfect. Right.

Chapter Text

The entire drive home after shift Eddie can’t stop looking in his rearview mirror at Buck’s truck. It’s enormous, bigger than Eddie’s, and the latest model. A Ford F-150 Raptor, with blacked-out windows and custom matt paintwork, and which probably cost three times Eddie’s yearly salary.

Every time he looks back at it he feels another jolt in the pit of his stomach. There’s an A-list celebrity following him. An A-list celebrity who got paid, according to Chim, over $3 million for his last movie is following him back to his house. To meet his son. An A-list celebrity who—

Fuck.

An A-list celebrity who is going to see Eddie’s tiny little two-bedroom house, his poor excuse for gardening, his kitchen sink full of dishes, and his fucking boxers that are probably still hanging on the clothes horse because the fucking dryer has broken for the sixth time and Eddie can’t afford to replace it until his next paycheck.

He contemplates calling Carla, asking her to stash the offending articles of clothing in his room, but remembers his phone is in his duffle bag on the back seat. He also realizes how ridiculous he’s being, it’s only underwear. Everyone wears underwear, even Buck. Unless they decide to go commando, that is. Does Buck go commando?

Fuck.

The turning to Eddie’s street springs up on him and he takes the corner way too fast, yanking the wheel around sharply to avoid mounting the curb, and glancing back in his rearview once more in time to catch Buck breaking to make the turn safely. He indicates as he approaches the driveway, rolling down his window and pointing to the curb out front to indicate that’s where Buck should pull up, and hopes he can get inside the house to deal with the laundry before Buck makes it out of his truck.

He has no such luck, however, the second Eddie has closed the driver’s side door Buck is by his side, surprisingly full of energy for someone who has just completed their first night shift in a fire station and managed roughly only twenty minutes sleep in the back of the engine on the way back from a call.

“I thought Rodriguez was a wanna-be rally driver,” Buck grins, pointing back to the corner of Eddie’s street. “But with the way you took that turn, you could give him a run for his money.”

“Just a little tired,” Eddie lies, rubbing at the back of his neck while eyeing Buck’s truck and contemplating whether it’ll be safe parked out on the street. Maybe he should have gotten Buck to park on the driveway instead, Eddie’s truck is worth less, but then it’s a safe neighborhood with a very low crime rate which is rare in a city like LA.

“You sure you wanna do this now? I can shoot off, let you catch up on some sleep—” Buck thumbs back over his shoulder at his truck, turning slightly as though he’s about to make a start toward it.

“No!” Eddie blurts quickly, embarrassing himself with how desperate he must be coming across. “I mean, I won’t be sleeping until later anyway. Carla, Christopher’s home health aid has another client today so it would have just been me and him anyway.”

“Oh, ok,” Buck nods, squinting at Eddie. “If you’re sure I’m not gonna be intruding?”

“Not at all,” Eddie glances at his watch. “We’ve probably got half an hour before Chris is up, that’s time for at least three coffees.”

Buck practically skips up the path next to Eddie. “Three? Jesus, I’d be bouncing off the walls after the second.” Eddie doesn’t add that Buck doesn’t need any caffeine to be bouncing, the man is pretty much the human equivalent of a space hopper. Eddie opens up the front door, leading Buck through, and is met instantly by the offending presence of the clothes horse, his boxers hanging pride of place on the top wrung.

“I’ll just…um,” Eddie starts grabbing at the items, bundling them in his arms and hiding them from view, only moving to head to his bedroom when he thinks he has them all. But a polite cough and a tap on his shoulder stops Eddie in his tracks and he turns to find Buck holding a pair of boxers that had evaded him. Eddie’s whole face flushes which is completely and utterly ridiculous and just makes him feel like an even bigger idiot, but then again, Evan fucking Buckley is holding his boxers out to him.

“I pegged you as more of a briefs guy,” Buck smirks, but it’s not an unkind smirk, on the contrary, it’s more teasing and there’s a spark in Buck’s eye that can only be described as flirtatious. Eddie snatches the boxers from Buck’s hand, stuffing them into the pile in his arms.

“S-sometimes,” Eddie stutters, backing away when he realizes how close Buck is standing to him. “Boxers don’t sit well under the uniform so I tend to wear briefs at work—” Eddie slams his mouth shut, utterly perplexed as to what on earth possessed him to share that titbit of information with a Hollywood movie star.

A Hollywood movie star who is still smirking at him, eyebrows raised in amusement, and who looks so full of the same confidence and swagger that Eddie had witnessed that day the cameras had shown up at the firehouse.

For the first time, Eddie finds himself wondering if it’s been an act the whole time, every smile, every touch of Buck’s hand against his own, every little glint or hint of something in his eye. Was he just putting on a show for Eddie? Was it just research for the movie?

“Fresh coffee is in the pot, Christopher’s homework is on the side waiting for you to check, the laundry is on and should be done in—” Carla’s speech cuts off as she finally looks up from her phone and Eddie spots the almost comical double take as her eyes land on Buck. “Oh, my Lord! You’re…you’re…”

“Hey, I’m Buck,” Buck says, striding forward and holding out a hand. The second Carla takes it Buck is lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a suave kiss to her knuckles. “You must be Carla, I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

It’s a lie, Eddie literally only mentioned Carla’s name to Buck five minutes ago, but Carla visibly swoons at Buck’s charm. To Eddie, however, it just gives more reason to wonder if anything Buck says, or the way he acts is genuine.

“Oh, really?” Carla flushes and looks at Eddie, incredulity etched all over her features. “And, pray tell, how is that you two know each other? As far as I’m aware Eddie’s not the type to be mixing with such esteemed company.”

“Hey now,” Eddie says, trying not to be offended. “Buck’s shadowing the 118 for a few weeks—”

“Research,” Buck interjects. “I’m playing a firefighter in my next movie. Eddie and the gang have done me a great kindness by letting me annoy them with endless questions while they show me what it means to be a real hero.” Buck slaps a large hand on Eddie’s shoulder, squeezing it strongly and flashing a winning grin in his direction.

“And are you bunking here with Eddie, or is seeing where firefighters live part of the research?” Carla’s usual teasing tone accompanies the arched eyebrow and knowing look she gives Eddie.

“Oh, no, ma’am, I’m here to meet what I hear is my biggest fan and the most awesome 7-year-old on the planet.”

“Well, he should be up in the next twenty minutes,” Carla pulls the strap of her bag up onto her shoulder and pauses for a second, gazing up in wonder at the 6-foot-plus hulk of a man in front of her. “Evan Buckley.” She sighs before letting out a chuckle and shaking her head in disbelief as she heads out the front door, closing it behind her.

“So,” Eddie’s neck cricks as he snaps it back to Buck. “You wanna deal with that?” He points to the now crumpled ball of material in Eddie's arms.

Eddie practically flees down the hallway to his bedroom, tossing his boxers onto the bed and slamming the door closed before he can see whether or not they made it to their intended destination. He’s gone less than twenty seconds but by the time he gets back, Buck has made it to the mantle and is looking at the collection of picture frames and trinkets housed there.

A floorboard creeks under Eddie’s feet and alerts Buck to his reappearance. “Is that Christopher’s mom?” He asks, pointing to one of the frames. It’s a picture of the three of them, he, Chris, and Shannon, taken not long after Eddie had returned from duty. His arm is still in a sling, strapped to his chest, and there’s a haunted look on his face. But Christopher is gazing up at him with such awe that it’s easily one of Eddie's favorite photographs.

“Yeah, that’s Shannon,” Eddie confirms, stepping up alongside Buck, and he catches the hint of a glare that Buck gives the picture. “Come on, you can’t seriously be mad at a dead woman.” Eddie admonishes him.

Buck sighs, still glaring at the image. “It’s just…I know what it’s like,” He shrugs one shoulder. “To be walked out on. It sucks.” Buck doesn’t elaborate and with the way he quickly moves on to commenting on the next picture Eddie gets the feeling that he hadn’t intended to say it at all.

“So,” Buck finally turns to Eddie, clapping his hands together and with the high wattage smile back on his face. “I don’t know about you but I could really do with that coffee right now.”

Being around Buck is like being on a yo-yo or riding a roller coaster. Just when Eddie is starting to think he has the man sussed Buck throws him for a loop, gives a look, or a comment that reminds Eddie all over again that he is an actor.

But he thinks he got a glimpse of the real Evan Buckley for a moment, an Evan Buckley who has trauma, fear, and repressed emotions just like a regular person. Just like Eddie.

And he wants to ask. He wants to ask Buck who it was who walked out on him, who it was who broke his heart and left him cradling the broken pieces. He wants to ask who it was, what they did, and how can he help to make it better. How can he help Buck to feel whole again?

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Buck isn’t like him, Buck isn’t attainable. Buck comes from a world that is galaxies away from his own, full of expensive clothes and black tie events, movie deals and fast cars, supermodels, and mansions.

“Kitchen?” Buck asks, pulling Eddie from his stupor, and he points the man in the right direction, following in his wake. Whilst Eddie fixes them both a coffee Buck fills the silence with chatter, flitting from one subject to the next, until there’s the sound of a door opening in the hallway followed by shuffling steps.

A mop of curly hair rounds the doorframe first, a hand latching onto it for balance as Christopher ambles sleepily into sight. His glasses are askew and there are still pillow creases on his cheek, but the second his eyes land on Eddie and Buck sitting at the kitchen table all traces of sleep disappear.

Christopher freezes, his eyes bug, and he lets out a small squeak.

“Morning, bud,” Eddie calls, amused by his son’s reaction. “This is—”

“Why is Captain Chaos in our kitchen?” Christopher says, staring unblinkingly at Buck as though if he dares to close his eyes for even a fraction of a second the man will disappear. And ok, Eddie hasn’t actually thought about how he’s going to explain this to Chris. Fortunately, the kid is old enough to understand that the characters in his favorite movies and TV shows are just people playing pretend. Christopher has seen several of Buck’s features now, with Captain Chaos remaining the number one choice, but Eddie has no clue how to explain to his son why the man in question is currently sitting in Christopher’s usual spot.

Just as he’s working out where to start Buck simply swoops in, moving from the chair to crouch down in front of Christopher and holding out his hand by way of introduction.

“Hey, I’m Evan but you can call me Buck, you must be Christopher,” Buck says, shaking hands gently when Chris slowly takes it. “Your dad will not shut up about how awesome you are so I asked if I could come and meet you!” Christopher’s eyes flick from Buck to Eddie, his expression remaining stunned for a second before morphing into a frown.

“Why Buck?” He asks, tilting his head to the side inquisitively.

“It’s, uh, it’s a nickname, there were four other Evan’s in my acting class and it was hard to know who our teacher was talking to, so I shortened my last name from Buckley to Buck.”

 “That makes sense,” Christopher says, nodding sagely as he adjusts his grip on the doorframe. Eddie can tell by the way he’s leaning heavily on it that Chris hasn’t done his morning stretches yet and his limbs are still stiff from sleep. But he resists the urge to help as Chris’ balance wobbles for a moment before he regains it. “Why are you here?”

Interestingly, Eddie notices that Buck also sees the moment Chris sways where he stands but also doesn’t make to reach for him. Instead, he throws a thumb over his shoulder towards the table. “Well, that’s a bit of a long story and my legs are kind of tired, do you mind if we sit while I tell you?”

“Okay,” Christopher shuffles his feet forward, using the counters to help him to his chair. Eddie’s usual surge of pride, the one he gets when his kid shows just how resilient and independent he can be, blooms. “Morning, Dad.” He says once settled in his chair, sparing Eddie only a glance before turning back to Buck and waiting patiently for the story he’s been promised.

Talking to Chris, Buck is probably the most animated Eddie has seen him, hands and arms waving as he tells every detail he can about his new movie and how he’s been watching Eddie and the rest of the 118 for the last few weeks. Christopher hangs off every word, eyes wide and offering the occasional comment of ‘so cool’ or ‘awesome’.

“It’s your dad who’s the awesome one,” Buck counters, glancing at Eddie from across the table where he sits next to Christopher. “And Bobby, and Hen, and Chim, too. They’re the real heroes, I just pretended to be one.”

“Yeah, but you got to wear a cool superhero outfit and fly!”

“Ah, yeah, well, the flying thing was mostly me just hanging from the ceiling from wires, and that outfit was so uncomfortable, it was hot and sweaty, and I constantly had to pull it out of my butt cra—”

“Who’s for breakfast?” Eddie interrupts, clapping his hands together and shooting Buck a look that hints he should stop talking. “What do you say to pancakes?” After mouthing an apology Buck whoops excitedly but Chris pulls a face.

“Last time you made pancakes you set them on fire.”

Snitch.

Buck barks out a laugh, not even having the decency to look guilty for it as he holds up a hand for Christopher to high-five. “Okay, first of all rude,” Eddie jokingly chides, unable to hold back a laugh at the sheer mirth on his son’s face. “And two, I seem to remember being distracted by helping a certain someone who had neglected to finish his homework the night before.”

Christopher rolls his eyes in a way that no seven-year-old should know how to. “Can we go to Dinah’s?”

“Dinah’s Kitchen, it’s this retro restaurant diner over on Sepulveda Boulevard. He’s a huge fan of their food,” Eddie clarifies at Buck’s questioning expression. “Uh, Chris, Buck probably—”

“That sounds great!” Buck cuts off Eddie’s attempt to explain that a well-known celebrity like Buck likely won’t want to be spotted after having worked all night on no sleep.

“You-you sure?” Eddie checks. “I mean, what if someone recognizes you?”

“Nah, it’s cool. I have a hat and some glasses in my truck, they usually work pretty well. Besides, if Christopher thinks the food is good then that’s enough to convince me.” Buck winks at Chris and the boy giggles again.

Christopher talks about breakfast with Buck for three days straight. Every conversation is Buck this, Buck that, or Buck’s so cool, and the man himself is no better. Eddie doesn’t see Buck for a few days, he’s needed at the studio for costume fittings, script reads and meetings with the movie’s director, but Eddie receives text after text from Buck telling him how awesome his kid is.

It’s yet another example of how difficult it is to get a read on him, which part of him is genuine, and which part of him is the actor. The way he was with Chris, was genuine. There's no doubting the interest and enthusiasm he showed for everything Christopher had to say. But the flirting, the winks, and the long looks, holding Eddie’s hand, Eddie just doesn't know. He doesn't want to hope.

Buck is a celebrity. He’s unattainable, way out of Eddie’s league, and completely, one hundred percent straight.

“Woah, is this for real?” Chimney’s eyes practically bulge in their sockets as he looks at the invitation Buck has just handed him. Eddie watches as he also gives one to Hen and Bobby before finally holding one out to him.

“A party?” Bobby asks, peering at the thick stock card over the rim of his reading glasses.

“Not just any party, Cap, a celebrity party. Man, just think of who might be there. Is, uh, is your sister going?” Chim aims for casual but the question comes across as anything but.

“Smooth,” Hen drawls, sending her partner a knowing look that has both Eddie and Bobby chuckling. When it comes to women Chimney has anything but a good record. He falls hard, goes all in, and typically gets walked all over, but Eddie has never seen Chim look at any of the other women he’s tried to date the way he looks at Maddie.

Maybe it’s a Buckley thing.

“This is very generous, Buck,” Bobby tells him, slipping the invitation into his pocket. “Black tie? What’s the party in aid of?”

“Officially, the studio is holding a fundraising gala, but Hollywood doesn’t really need a reason to throw a party.”

Eddie is so distracted by the thought of Buck all suited and booted in an expensive black tuxedo that he almost misses Hen asking who the funds are being raised for. what he doesn’t miss, however, is Buck’s bashful shrug and shy rub of a hand at the back of his neck.

“Well, you guys have been so awesome, you know, putting up with me these last few weeks and the studio didn’t have a particular organization in mind, so I suggested…well, I suggested you. The LAFD. I mean, the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation.”

Eddie's is not the only shocked face staring at Buck, Hen is smiling brightly while Chim looks gobsmacked, and even Bobby looks a little emotional at the revelation. “That’s very kind of you, Buck,” Bobby tells him, grasping at his shoulder. “It’s obviously a cause that’s close to a lot of us. We’re honored that it’s been chosen.”

“Well, I hope you can all make it, it’ll be a good night,” Buck looks right at Eddie as he says it, his expression hopeful. “There’ll be a silent auction, too, so maybe you guys could put forward a tour? Or maybe, like, a, uh…a-a date with a firefighter? Or something.” He trails off, not before his eyes flick to and away from Eddie a few times as though he’s nervous about the response.

“Eddie would love to, wouldn’t you, Eddie?” Chim practically yells, slapping a hand between Eddie’s shoulder blades and propelling him forward slightly. When Eddie turns to glare at him Chim simply winks and tilts his head subtly in Buck’s direction. “Just think of who might bid on you, lots of eligible options.”

Hen sniggers but Eddie realises Buck is still waiting for an answer. “Uh,” What’s the worst that could happen? At least with a silent auction if no one bid on him then he wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of standing on a stage in front of hundreds of extremely glamorous and wealthy people as they completely passed him over. “Sure.” He concedes, much to Buck’s pleasure (and his teammate’s amusement).

“Awesome!” Eddie can’t help but swoon a little at the thrilled smile Buck directs at him.

“And, of course, we’d be happy to offer a tour of the station for the auction, if you think folks would be interested in that,” Bobby adds. Eddie slips away to the locker room, leaving Buck and Bobby to talk about the logistics, and he opens his locker, carefully stowing the invitation inside.

“You like him,” Hen states as she appears by his side and leans against the adjacent locker.

“He’s a nice guy,” Eddie shrugs, attempting to deflect. It doesn’t work, Hen gives him her patented eyebrow raise, waiting him out. “Okay, fine. Yes, I like him. But it’s not like anything’s going to happen, Hen.”

“Say’s who?” Hen scoffs.

“Say’s me, say’s society. People like him don’t date people like me. He’s out of my league.”

“And? My wife was out of my league and she still fell in love with me.”

“That’s different, Hen. Karen’s not a celebrity.” Eddie argues, his eyes naturally landing back on Buck through the glass wall of the locker room where he, Bobby, and Chim are laughing about something.

“She is in the science world. You don’t think I felt out of place when we were first dating and I went to all the fancy science dinners? Nothing’s impossible, Eddie. If you like him you should tell him.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, that thing for the gala, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

It’s hour seven of a standoff between the LAPD and an armed suspect who has gotten himself trapped on the roof of a residence in Brentwood. The 118 had been called in to assist in case of potential injury when the hostage negotiator finally gets the man down, but so far it’s been mind-numbing hours of waiting.

They’ve run out of card games, have played multiple rounds of Desert Island Disks, and have eaten their fill of pizza that Buck had delivered during hour four. They can’t leave until either the man comes down or another house arrives to take over at the end of their shift, which means they potentially have another five hours of waiting.

Hen and Chim have been making their way amongst the familiar faces they know from the LAPD and taking bets on how long it will take to get the man down from the roof. Bobby had done little more than shake his head disapprovingly before leaving them to it, instead choosing to sit next to Athena on the engine's front bumper and go over wedding plans.

All this meant that Buck and Eddie had the engine to themselves, and they had taken shelter in the cab when the first news vans had shown up. As much as Buck’s stint shadowing with the 118 was known about, given that he had been posting about it on social media, so far no one had managed to work out when he was actually on shift with them. A couple of gossip column writers had tried turning up at the station to see if Buck would be there, but they’d given up after the second week.

“The auction?” Eddie asks, looking at him across the cab. He’s sat sideways, feet up on the bench and his legs are so long that his boots are pressed against Eddie’s hip and he’s resting his arm on the toe caps.

He somehow has managed to keep hold of the department t-shirt and turnouts that he’d used for the behind-the-scenes segment he and Eddie had filmed the other week, and Bobby has finally relented and let him wear them out on calls, as long as he still wears the high-vis vest over the top. Currently, however, the vest lays discarded on the floor of the cab and it means that nothing is hiding the way the t-shirt clings to his chest and biceps.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that,” He shrugs one shoulder as he looks back at Eddie. “I should have asked you in private and given you a chance to say no.”

“It’s ok, I don’t mind.”

Buck raises a skeptical eyebrow toward his hairline. “Really?”

“Well, I mean it was on the spot, but it’ll be fun, I guess,” Eddie shrugs this time, looking away from Buck and out the window of the truck. The man is still on the roof, pacing back and forth, but he looks to be getting fatigued. “Although I don’t think too many people will be interested.”

“Are you kidding? There’ll be a bidding war,” Buck says with a smirk. “I better make sure I get my bid in early.”

Eddie’s brain misfires and he realizes his mouth is hanging open at Buck’s declaration of his intent to bid. Or maybe he’s just playing, he’s still smirking after all and Eddie’s still struggling to get a read on the man. He should just ask, right? That would be the grown-up thing to do.

“Ha,” He laughs awkwardly instead, sitting up a little straighter in his heat and shifting an inch away so that Buck’s boots are no longer pressed to his hip, but he does catch the moment when his smile falls a little. “I, uh, I need to find something to wear. The only suit I have is probably a little small for me now.”

“Buffed up since you last wore it?” He guesses, eyes trailing down a little over Eddie’s torso.

“Something like that,” Eddie can feel his face flushing and he busies himself with looking out through the engine window to see if there’s any progress with the negotiations.

“We should go shopping,” Buck announces excitedly, pulling Eddie’s focus back to him. “I can take you to some of the best tailors in Hollywood. There’s this guy in Beverly Hills, he made my tux for the Captain Chaos premiere, man, that thing fit like a glove.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Yeah, there’s no way I can afford whatever someone in Beverly Hills is charging.”

“Oh, hey, it’s no problem. My treat.” Buck sits up and holds out a fist, waiting for Eddie to bump his against it, but instead, Eddie just blinks at him.

“No,” He says, perhaps a little too briskly. “That’s kind of you but—”

“It’s cool, I want to, you’ll look—”

“I said no, Buck.”

Buck flinches back, hand dropping to his lap and face falling at Eddie’s harsh refusal. “I…I’m-I’m sorry,” He stutters. “I-I didn’t mean to offend you, I just wanted to…forget it. Forget I said anything.”

Great, Eddie feels like a complete asshole.

“No, I’m sorry, Buck. It’s a very kind offer, it’s just you touched on a bit of a sore spot for me is all,” The confession comes out before he can stop it, but then he’s shared so much with Buck about his life, about Christopher and Shannon, his time in the army, it just feels natural to confide in the man now.

“Money?”

“Mm,” Eddie hums, looking back out of the truck again. The crowd watching the spectacle has thinned a little as the hours have stretched on, it's mostly reporters left alongside residents of the otherwise quiet cul-de-sac. “When I came home from Afghanistan and Shannon left I was working three jobs to support me and Chris. None of them paid particularly well, and I was only just keeping up with rent and bills. My parents liked to use it as one of the reasons why they thought Chris should live with them permanently.”

“That must have been tough.”

Buck says it so sincerely that part of him wants to scoff, wants to ask Buck what he knows about it. The man lives the Hollywood life which, sure, may be no picnic at times, but he probably earns Eddie’s yearly salary in a month, maybe even a week. But then Buck hasn’t shared much of his own life with Eddie, all he knows about Buck’s life before stardom is what everyone else knows, that he has two loving parents and a sister whom he adores. Perhaps Buck has some skeletons in his closet that haven’t yet been discovered by the media and he wants to keep it that way.

“It’s in the past,” Eddie shrugs. “Still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.”

“Eddie,” The way his name sounds coming from Buck’s lips, soft, gentle, caring, it does things to Eddie that he doesn’t quite know how to process. “It’s okay, you had your reasons, and, hey, whatever you wear I’m sure you’ll look very handsome. All the ladies will want to dance with you. Just, uh, make sure you save a dance for me.”

There’s that look again, that smirk, and the hypnotizing eyes that draw Eddie in and make him want to say things and do things that he’s never felt the urge to do with anyone else he’s ever been attracted to.

He just needs to ask, he just needs to ask the man if he’s flirting with Eddie, ask if he’s interested the way Eddie is.

“Buck, I—”

All hell breaks loose outside the engine, shouts and running bodies, and Eddie leaps down from the truck to find the suspect sprawled on the dented roof of the car parked in front of the garage, the elderly homeowner standing on the garage roof yelling at everyone to finally go home and leave him in peace.

The moment with Buck is instantly forgotten as Eddie rushes forward to help Chim and Hen assess the suspect and get him strapped to a backboard. By the time they’ve loaded him into the ambulance he finds Buck has been spotted by the press, with the coverage of the end of the siege seemingly in the can he’s now the main focus.

Buck has shifted into that on-camera persona Eddie has now become familiar with, confident, sure, oozing charm as he answers questions about his time with the 118, poses for pictures with residents, and signs autographs. But at Bobby’s call for the 118 to start wrapping up the scene, Buck offers his apologies and breaks away from the crowd, much to their dismay, and he sets about helping to load the equipment back onto the truck.

“Hey,” Buck’s knee nudges against his once they’re back in the truck, headphones on, and on the way back to the firehouse. “You looked like you were about to tell me something earlier.”

Yeah, that’s certainly not going to happen now, not with the many ears of the team listening in.

“Just Chris wants to go to the pier tomorrow, he told me to invite you,” Eddie improvises on the spot, which is actually not that much of a lie. He and Chris had been talking about going to the pier and Eddie’s sure that Chris would be ecstatic for Buck to come too. Across the truck, Eddie catches the very pointed look that Hen sends his way which he ignores.

“He said that?” Buck’s face lights up and Eddie feels a little guilty that it’s not the whole truth. “Yeah, I’d…I’d love to.”

Taylor’s back.

The second he catches sight of her perfectly coifed auburn locks Eddie retreats to the relative safety of the loft, as far away as he can get from the woman and her camera without physically leaving the building. It doesn’t stop her loud voice from drifting up to him now and then, shouting directions to the cameraman or Buck, or laughing at something someone has said.

Eddie does his best to tune it out, sequestering himself on one of the couches and burying his head in his phone. Buck had been recognized by a few people at the pier but their day had been mostly uninterrupted, but a picture of Buck and Chris had been posted by one of the celebrity sighting accounts on Instagram.

Buck had called him, apologizing profusely, and said he already had Maddie working to get the picture taken down. Eddie had panicked initially, but once he’d found the account and seen the picture for himself he’d been relieved to discover that

Christopher’s face had been blurred out. He’d known it would be a possibility, hanging out in such a public place with someone as famous as Buck meant it was bound to happen eventually. As much as he didn’t want his son’s face plastered all over the internet it had been entertaining to read through the comments and see the theories be banded about as to who Chris was to Buck.

His self-seclusion works for a while, the bells remaining mercifully quiet meaning he has no reason to have to leave the sanctity of the loft. That is until Taylor sweeps up the stairs, the cameraman on her heels, and starts directing the rest of the crew toward the kitchen.

She chivvies Hen and Ravi behind the kitchen island as Buck slips an apron over his head and Bobby sets about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. Eddie slinks from the couch and almost makes it to the top of the stairs before he’s spotted.

“Not so fast, Diaz. Over here.”

“What’s, uh, what’s going on?” He asks, watching as Bobby flips to a page in his coveted recipe book and talks Buck through the steps. It’s something he’s been doing with Buck on the occasional shift following the man’s confession that he doesn’t know all that much about cooking, opting either for takeout or to hire a private chef.

“We’re cooking!” Buck announces, as though the items of food around him weren’t clue enough.

“Behind the scenes content,” Taylor expands, flipping a perfect wave of hair over her shoulder and looking up at him shrewdly. “Meal times are a great bonding activity, are they not? Firefighting life isn’t all about the high-octane rescues, we want to show the other sides of the job.”

“I’m not sure I’m the one you want included in this. I burn water.” Eddie looks to Bobby for support but his captain merely gives him one of his looks that tells Eddie there’s no getting out of this.

“Well then, this will give you a chance to improve.” Taylor dismisses his excuse with a wave of her hand, directing him behind the island with the others. Chimney is strangely missing and Eddie feels a stab of jealousy if the man has successfully hidden himself away somewhere.

“Hey,” Buck says softly as Eddie sidles up next to him, hands still fiddling with the apron ties behind his back. “Sorry about this.” Eddie shakes his head, giving the man a smile to reassure him it’s fine.

“Need a hand?” He gestures to where Buck is struggling to tie the apron. He turns his back, offering up the ties and releasing them when Eddie takes hold. His fingers brush against Buck’s back as he loops the straps around, threading them together and into a bow, pulling it snug. He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it but he places his hand over the knot, fingers splaying over the firm muscles in Buck’s back. Buck in turn seems to take in a slightly stuttered breath. “All done,” Eddie murmurs, clearing his throat.

“Thanks,” Buck turns back slowly, face unreadable. “I’m all fingers and thumbs.”

Before Eddie can decipher what just happened Taylor pointedly coughs and when he looks over at her there’s what can only be described as a calculating smirk on her face.

Eddie doesn’t like its implications.

Taylor barks out instructions to act natural (which Eddie wants to argue is difficult when you’re not used to a camera documenting your every move) and just to cook as they normally would on shift. Eddie knows he’s a little stiff at first, catches the overacted hand gestures from Bobby behind Taylor’s shoulder signaling for him to loosen up, but it’s Buck’s smile and playful dig of fingers in his side that has a smile breaking out on Eddie’s face.

The banter starts flowing freely, Buck delegating tasks to each of them and joining in on the ribbing when the jokes start falling at Eddie’s expense and his lack of cooking skills. It feels so normal, like Buck is and always has been a part of them even though it’s only been a month and a few days. It feels like an age ago that Bobby had first informed them of Evan Buckley’s assignment to them and Eddie’s initial disapproval after the disaster that was Felisa Valdez.

Now, looking at the four of them moving in sync around the kitchen, Bobby watching on from behind the camera, Eddie’s suddenly struck with the realization that, at some point, this is going to come to an end. Buck will have learned everything he needs from them, he’ll go off to shoot his movie and that will be it. Eddie certainly can’t imagine the man popping in to visit, help prepare lunch, or sit down to play video games with him in the middle of a night shift.

He's let himself get too close. He’s let Christopher get too close and it’s just going to end in tears.

Eddie knows his energy visibly drops, Buck keeps sneaking concerned looks at him, as does Hen, but Eddie pushes on, determined not to be the one to spoil the segment. The food is finished and transferred to the table, Taylor and the cameraman joining them much to Eddie’s disappointment which is made worse when she takes the seat next to him. Thankfully, Buck takes the one on his other side and Eddie does his best to avoid any conversation with the woman.

He knows his dislike of the woman is baseless and built only on the suspicion that she and Buck have dated at some point in the past. There’s too much heat in their flirty banter for them not to have been physically intimate with each other at least once, and Eddie knows it’s irrational to not like someone based on a past relationship.

When everyone’s finished Buck leads the clean-up, taking the leftover food back to the kitchen and making a start on the washing up with Ravi, the apron still tied around his waist.

“So, I hear you’re going to be auctioned off at the gala,” With just the two of them left at the table there’s no way to avoid conversing with the woman which means Eddie forces the most neutral expression he can onto his face before turning to her. “That’ll certainly be interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Taylor shifts in her chair, casually crossing her legs as she fixes her unscrupulous gaze on him. “I don’t know if Buck warned you, but there’s always a lot of thirsty old Hollywood types at those galas. Who knows who you might end up winning you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie professes, trying not to rise to the clear bait she’s setting. “It’s all for charity, right? That’s what matters.”

“Mm, very altruistic of you,” Taylor’s eyes narrow slightly. “What does your girlfriends have to say about it?”

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” Eddie sets about gathering some of the remaining tableware, giving him a reasonable excuse to be able to leave the table.

“Boyfriend?”

A fork slips from his hand, clattering to the table loudly as Eddie scrambles to catch it, making more noise than the drop itself. His eyes flick automatically to Buck before flitting back to Taylor and he knows in an instant he’s given himself away.

“Listen, a friendly piece of advice,” Taylor leans forward, her body language and facial expression anything but friendly. “Don’t waste your time, it’ll only end in heartbreak. Yours, not his. Besides, he’s asked me to attend the gala with him. As his date.” The clarification is unnecessary but Eddie suspects Taylor knows that and is just looking to rub salt into the wound.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He staunchly avoids looking anywhere in her direction as he stacks the last few plates and gathers the cutlery on top. Taylor lets out a put-upon sigh, as though Eddie’s denial is causing her physical suffering.

“Look, I’m trying to let you down gently because I know what Buck is like. I know how he comes across.”

“And how’s that?” Eddie asks warily, picking up the plates and holding them between him and Taylor as though they might offer him some protection.

“He’s a flirt. He’s notorious for it, on set and off. Buck’s good at charming people but that’s just how he is. It doesn’t mean there’s anything in it. He does it with everyone.”

Eddie wants to tell her she’s wrong, that Buck’s not like that, that they have a…connection. But he can’t, because if he thinks about it, really thinks about it he knows she’s right. He’s seen it up close, the way Buck turns into a different person at the drop of a pin, slipping into character. Putting on a show.

“I’m sorry,” Taylor pouts, not looking sorry in the least and Eddie needs to get away from the woman before he says something he’ll regret.

“Sure.”

Without another word he turns, abandons the plates on the island with a clatter, and makes a beeline for the stairs, ignoring the confused calls of his name which includes one from Buck, and takes them down two at a time. He’s almost made it to the bathroom when Buck catches up with him, a hand latching onto the sleeve of his shift.

“Eddie, wait. What’s…what’s wrong?” Buck’s huffing a little from his sprint down the stairs after him and he’s still wearing the goddamn apron. It’s so fucking domestic, nipped in when Eddie had tied it around his waist showing off just how trim he is in comparison to his shoulders and chest.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Eddie lies, tugging on his arm in an attempt to dislodge the man’s grip.

“Hey, c’mon, you can talk to me—”

“Can I?” Buck flinches at the harshness of Eddie’s words and he lets go, arms falling to his sides as he takes a small step back.

“Of course,” He says quietly, earnestly. “Eddie, I’m your friend.”

“Are you? Because sometimes I feel like I don’t even know which you I’m talking to.” Eddie’s shouting, he knows he’s shouting, and he knows the words are probably reaching up to the loft but right now he doesn’t care.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean which me?” There’s hurt and confusion on Buck’s face and it pains Eddie to see but he’s so caught up in his own upset from the conversation with Taylor that he just can’t stop the tirade from escaping him.

“Who are you really, Buck? Hm? Because I sure as hell don’t know. One minute you’re all sincere and supportive, and smiling at me all…” He waves a hand in the air in front of Buck’s face as though the action will adequately describe the smile that Eddie’s become so fond of. “And then the next you’re this whole other person, putting on a show for the cameras and the fans, and flirting with everyone the same way you—”

“The same way I what?” Buck asks, voice quivering slightly from either anger or sadness at Eddie’s rant.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Eddie turns, trying to escape into the bathroom, but Buck darts around him blocking his way. “Clearly it does matter if it’s got you all—”

“I don’t know you, Buck! I don’t know the real you. It’s all an act and I just can’t keep up with it. You’re exhausting!”

The words echo around the space leaving a deafening silence in their wake, Eddie instantly regrets the words but the damage is already done. Buck nods, muscles in his face visibly clenching as he fumbles with the ties to the apron, yanking them loose and pulling the article over his head before letting it drop to the floor.

“I’m sorry I’m so exhausting.” Buck’s eyes are wet but he stalks past Eddie before he can see the tears fall. Eddie spins, wanting to call him back and apologize but Buck is already halfway across the bay. Hen and Bobby have appeared at the bottom of the stairs and both call out for the man, but Buck doesn’t stop, his long strides carrying him out of the side door and out of sight.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen Bobby look so disappointed, at least not at him, and Hen’s expression tells him she feels the same. But before either of them can say a word the bell rings.

In the days following his blow-up at Buck, it’s safe to say Eddie is very much in the dog house. Pretty much the entire crew had heard what went down between them, and the next day Bobby had received a call from the movie’s production team to say that Buck wouldn’t be back, that he has learned all he can from the experience.

Bobby passed on thanks to the whole crew from the man himself, a generically written speech that praised them all for sharing their knowledge and expertise with Buck, but not before chewing Eddie’s ear out for his unprofessionalism and for bringing his personal problems into the workplace.

To make matters worse Chris has been asking when he can see Buck again. It’s been almost two weeks since they spent the day at the pier, Buck escorting his son onto every ride while Eddie carried the spoils of their victories on the game stalls. The only story Eddie could come up with for him was that Buck’s movie was going to start filming soon and he was going to be busy on set. Chris had been disappointed, for sure, telling Eddie they should go visit him there instead and Eddie didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t going to happen.

Chim has informed them via Maddie that the invites for the gala still stand and they’re all still welcome to attend, the ‘even Eddie’ going unsaid but still very much heard. If it weren’t for the fact that his 'date with a firefighter' auction was now being advertised on the list of items and experiences up for grabs Eddie wouldn’t be going. He still hasn’t found a suitable outfit to wear and the last thing he feels like doing is shmoozing with a bunch of celebrities.

Also, given that it’s raising funds for the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation Eddie really has no choice but to attend. He just resigns himself to doing all he can to avoid Buck for the duration of the gala and slip out at the earliest opportunity after his auction is over.

To say that the crew is pissed with Eddie is putting it lightly. In the month that Buck spent with the 118, he’d very much become a part of the family, easily winning over everyone’s affections, which only serves to confuse and frustrate Eddie further because he can’t understand why they’re not just as frustrated as he is.

So he goes to work, he does his job, and then he spends his evenings after Christopher goes to bed festering on his couch and stalking Buck’s social media presence.

Well, stalking is maybe a little dramatic, but he does spend a lot of time scrolling through Buck’s pictures, reading every caption, searching his name under the hashtags, and has even gone so far as to turn on notifications for any post containing Buck’s name.

Okay, so maybe he’s stalking a little bit.

Buck’s been posting a lot, some pictures of him and Maddie, mirror selfies in costume from the set, clips of some of the special effects, and more interviews about what it’s like to play a firefighter. He looks…happy. He certainly doesn’t look as if their fight is weighing on him like it is Eddie, but then logic tells him that Buck wouldn’t make that sort of thing public anyway. Imagine is everything to celebrities, right?

Several times he finds himself opening their message chain, reading back over the texts exchanged and waiting to see if the dots will appear to tell him the Buck is typing out something to send. He’d welcome it, even if it was full of vitriol, he deserves it for what he said.

You’re exhausting.

Buck had been so hurt.

He calls once but chickens out and hangs up before the call can even connect and hopes that it doesn’t come up as a missed call on Buck’s end. If it does, Buck doesn’t call back.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

“What’s got your phone blowing up?” Hen asks curiously as she climbs onto the stool next to him at the kitchen island, sliding a fresh coffee to him.

Eddie glances at the screen, eyeing the multiple alerts from Instagram highlighting new activity on Buck’s hashtag. He quickly turns it over when he catches Hen peering.

“Point taken”

“Sorry,” He says sheepishly but offers no further explanation. They’re entering the late hours of a night shift which has so far been remarkable Q word and Eddie is bored out of his skull. It makes him miss the nights he spent with Buck, sat in the very same seat he is now as the man rattled out fact after fact about something or other.

“You doin’ okay?” Hen’s tried talking to him about his and Buck’s fight, offering him a listening ear for whenever he’s ready to broach the subject, but Eddie’s just been wanting to forget it, a task he’s making harder for himself by keeping tabs on Buck via social media.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

“Someone’s popular.”

Eddie turns his phone back over, glancing at the screen at yet more Instagram notifications coming through, and even as he’s looking yet more pop up. Typically the notifications come in waves, a bunch all at once followed by periods of respite before a fresh set, the pattern repeating itself.

But the notifications are coming thick and fast, his phone constantly vibrating.

“What the hell?” Eddie murmurs, catching only part of a headline where one of the notifications moves too fast for him to read in its entirety.

“What is it?” Hen leans over his shoulder and this time Eddie is too distracted to angle the screen away from her.

“Buck,” He swipes his thumb across the screen opening up the most recent alert which takes him to an article. “Oh my god!”

Chapter Text

Thirty-eight.

He tries calling Buck thirty-eight times. Every call goes unanswered, ringing out to voicemail until eventually they go straight to the machine meaning Buck has likely turned his phone off. But Eddie keeps trying.

For the remainder of his shift, when they’re not out on call, he’s glued to his phone reading every version of the article he can find and reading every comment in between attempts to reach the man. By the time C shift is rolling in ready for the changeover, the story has been picked up by multiple news channels, each displaying the same picture and repeating the same story.

One station had managed to track down an old preschool teacher of Maddie’s, interviewing her on air about what she remembered of the Buckley siblings, and it’s clear the woman is relishing her five minutes of fame. She’s way too animated as she regales the anchors with stories of Maddie repeatedly forgotten about and left at school after hours when their brother, Daniel, was in the hospital, and how everyone had thought it strange that Mr and Mrs Buckley had decided to have another child in the middle of such situation.

The story has sparked a debate over the ethics of ‘designer babies’ with the various opinions being debated live on air, doctors and scientists backing the approach from a medical standpoint while child psychologists counter it with the damage that failing to save a sibling can have on the child in question and the family dynamic moving forward.

Bobby eventually turns the TV off, effectively banning any further talk of the subject while on shift but Eddie keeps trying Buck’s number, growing increasingly concerned when every attempt gets him nowhere.

He’s standing in front of his open locker, googling movie studios in LA and preparing to call all of them to try and find some other way to get in contact with Buck when he looks up and catches sight through the glass wall of Chimney talking to someone in the engine bay.

Even from a distance, Eddie can see Maddie looks distraught, her hands shaking as Chim pulls her into his arms in a way that says it’s a familiar move for the pair of them, and it leads Eddie to wonder just how much time the two have been spending together.

When they pull apart they both start to head in the direction of the locker room and Eddie rushes to shove the last of his clothes into his duffle bag before slamming his locker closed and turning to the pair when they reach the open door.

“Hey, Eddie, you got a sec?” Chim’s holding tightly onto one of Maddie’s hands, the woman practically shaking where she stands. With all of his concern over Buck with the story breaking he’s completely forgotten that she’s been just as exposed as her brother has, the heartbreaking loss of her sibling splashed all over the media for the whole world to see.

“Uh, yeah, of course. How are you?” He asks somewhat stupidly given how visibly distressed she is. Maddie shakes her head, the movement dislodging more tears to trail down her cheeks.

“I just can’t believe this is happening,” She says shakily. “I don’t even know how the press found out. It’s a nightmare.”

Eddie frowns. “Isn’t this what they do, dig out stuff like this? It comes with the territory.”

“Yeah, but this is different,” Maddie sobs, prompting Chim to snatch the box of tissues from the shelf of communal toiletries. “No one was meant to find out about this, especially Buck.” She dabs at her eyes, smudging her mascara.

“Wait, what do you mean, especially Buck?”

Maddie balks as though she seems to realize what she’s just said. Chim shifts where he stands, looking between her and Eddie as he lifts a hand and rubs it over her shoulder.

“Uh, well,” Chim starts slowly, measuring his words carefully. “Buck didn’t know about any of this.” Eddie blinks, thoroughly confused.

“Buck didn’t know that his brother died?”

“No,” Maddie lets out a small, tired sigh. “He didn’t know he had a brother.”

It takes a while to get Maddie calm enough to tell him the full story, Chim filling in some of the blanks when she gets too overwhelmed by her emotions to talk. C shift has headed out on a call leaving just their man behind, which means they have the station to themselves.

“Thank you,” Maddie gives Eddie a small, grateful smile as he places a mug of tea in front of her, rounding the table to sit in the seat opposite her and Chim. “I’m sorry about being so…” She waves a hand in front of her face, referring to her earlier breakdown.

“It’s okay,” Eddie mumbles, checking his phone for the thousandth time in case he’s had a missed call or a text from Buck. “So what did you mean when you said Buck didn’t know he had a brother?”

Maddie takes a sip of tea and follows it with a deep breath. “Daniel was two years younger than me,” She starts, reaching back for Chimney’s hand once she sets her mug down. “He was three when he was diagnosed with juvenile leukemia. My parents, they tried every treatment option there was at the time but nothing was working. After three years of fighting his body started giving up and the doctors said the only thing left to try was a bone marrow transplant, but none of us were a match.”

The implication dawns on him as Eddie digests what she’s saying. “So they made one,” He surmises.

“Daniel was seven when Buck was born and he was a perfect match,” She shakily reaches for her tea again, some of the liquid sloshing over the rim. Chimney wordlessly mops it up with a nearby dishcloth. “But then the cells didn’t graft and Daniel had a relapse. He was gone a year later.”

A year. Jesus.

“How come he never knew? I can understand Buck having no memories if he was only a year old, but surely there were pictures? Surely your parents talked about him?”

Maddie shakes her head. “They were in shock after he died, we all were, and people talked, you know? The neighbors, other parents at school, I didn’t understand it fully at the time but there was a lot of judgment on them for having Buck in the middle of all that. So they packed up his things, we moved to a new town, and they made me promise never to talk about him.”

Eddie can’t fathom it. He’s a parent, he can imagine the heartbreak if he ever lost Christopher, but to never talk about him again? To erase his child’s very existence?

“So you lied? All these years, you and your parents lied to him?” Eddie knows his rage is unjustified, it’s not his life, and they’re not his parents or siblings, but he can’t help but feel angry on Buck’s behalf.

“Eddie,” Chim admonishes gently, sending him a look that tells him to lay off with the blame.

“No, he’s right,” Maddie purses her lips as her eyes well again. “I did lie, and I can never forgive myself for that. I wanted to tell him so many times, but the more time that went by, it just got harder, and my parents…” She trails off and casts her eyes to the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Eddie. “They aren’t bad people. They’re not, but they let their grief consume them.”

“You were just a kid, Maddie,” Chim adds. The way the man is so collected through the whole conversation tells Eddie that it’s not the first time he’s heard this story.

“Look, why are you telling me all this? Surely you should be talking to Buck.” Eddie counters, trying to reign in his anger.

“He won’t talk to me,” Maddie gets out before a fresh wave of sadness hits her again and a sob escapes her. “He won’t answer my calls, he won’t respond to my texts. I even went to his house but he refused to answer the door and then the press started showing up and shouting all these questions at me so I just…I ran away.”

“So he’s all alone right now?” Eddie asks, incredulous at the idea of Buck rattling around his house all on his own whilst dealing with the enormity of this revelation. A revelation that’s come, not from someone he loves or trusts to have told him the truth about his origin, but from the cold bloodthirstiness of the media.

Maddie, now crying uncontrollably, nods. “That’s why I came here, I know…I know you two are close,” Eddie’s eyebrows raise at the statement and he’s about to tell her about the argument they had, surprised Maddie hadn’t heard about it from Chim, or even from Buck himself.

She pulls a slip of paper from her pocket, sliding it across the table toward him. It’s an address, somewhere out near Runyon Canyon.

“I don’t think I’m the right person for this, Maddie, Buck and I barely know each other,” Eddie says, starting to slide the paper back to her but she stops him in his tracks by laying a hand over his.

“Whenever he talks about this place you’re always one of the first things he mentions. He’ll talk to you, Eddie, he trusts you,” She must see reluctance on his features because she leans forward over the table, tilting her head and fixing her eyes on his. “Buck was only supposed to shadow the 118 for a few hours over a week, two max, but he kept saying he wanted to come back and spend more time with you all. I have a feeling you were a big part of it. Please, Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t know what he was expecting when it came to Buck’s house, but it certainly wasn’t a modest mid-century style home tucked away in the foliage in a normal quiet, and leafy neighborhood. Part of his is convinced he’s taken a wrong turn, that he should be looking for a large, white-stoned mansion at the end of a long tree-lined driveway, but the numerous TV vans camped outside and blocking the majority of the street tell him he’s in the right place.

The front gate, as Maddie had suspected, was closed and with the press outside there was no way Eddie would get in that way. Carefully, he steers the truck around the reporters and cameramen, and drives past the house, and pulls over a hundred yards down the road parking by the lopsided tree Maddie had told him to look out for.

“There’s a path, it’s hard to see amongst the foliage, no one knows it’s there but it leads to a back gate.”

Scanning the bank Eddie spots a small gap, completely inconspicuous unless you’re looking for it, and her makes sure no one is watching before squeezing through. The dirt beneath his feet is well-trodden, telling him the path gets at least a bit of use, and the high hedgerows on either side are well-maintained. He’s maybe a minute in when the large wooden gate comes into view, the keypad next to glowing in the early evening light.

“I don’t know the code, I’ve never needed to use it, but I know there’s a buzzer. No one knows about it so he’d be more likely to answer it than the front gate right now.”

Eddie presses the buzzer, scanning his eyes over the gate and the surrounding fencing looking for a camera he might be able to wave to so that Buck knows it’s not the press trying to find another way to hound him, but there’s nothing. He waits a minute, not knowing how far Buck might have to travel from the house to the yard, before pressing it again, and then again when there’s still no answer.

“Don’t give up, please, Eddie. I just need to know that he’s okay.”

“Screw it,” Eddie sighs, jamming his thumb against the buzzer and holding it down, hoping that if the noise is incessant enough that Buck will have no choice but the answer it. It’s certainly loud enough from this side that he misses any sound of footfall coming from behind the gate so he’s startled when it violently swings open.

“Just leave me the hell alone!” Buck snaps, shouting at his unwelcome visitor before he even sees who has summed him.

Eddie has seen a lot of looks on Buck’s face in the time he’s spent at the 118. He’s seen joy at the saves and sadness at the losses, he’s seen anger at the deaths that could have been avoided. He’s seen him frown, smile, laugh, and cry. He’s seen him tease and flirt, he’s seen him confidant, he’s seen him insecure. But he’s never seen him like this.

Broken.

Buck’s whole body looks like it’s trying to turn in on itself under the weight of his newfound reality. His face is puffy and red from a number of untold hours he’s likely spent crying, and the knuckles of the hand currently gripping angrily onto the gate are grazed and bruised, blood still oozing in places.

“Bu—”

“What are you doing here?” Buck demands, anger still in his voice but a little less so now that he’s realized who is there. “How did you know to find this?”

“Maddie,” He answers simply. “She came by the station. She’s worried about you.”

Buck scoffs, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “She should have thought about that but she lied to me for my entire life. You can tell her I’m fine. Now go before the press see you.” He moves to close the gate, sighing in frustration when Eddie slams a hand against the wood to stop him.

“Buck, you are not fine,” Eddie tells him softly, sliding his hand over the wood until he reaches Buck’s hand and brushes a finger over his damaged knuckles.

The choice of words and simple touch seem to tip him over the edge. Buck’s shoulders drop, as does the hand on the gate as his resolve breaks and he starts to sob where he stands.

Eddie steps over the threshold, kicking the gate firmly closed behind him, and catches Buck just as the man’s knees give out. He braces his legs to stop them from crashing to the hard stone of the patio and wraps his arms around Buck’s waist, holding him up.

“I’ve got you,” He promises, holding on tight as Buck’s hands grip handfuls of the back of his jacket. “I’ve got you.”

“We can keep Christopher for as long as you need. Denny’s been asking when he can come for another sleepover.”                                                                                                     

“Thanks, Hen, I really appreciate it,” Eddie signs in relief, Chris loves spending time with the Wilsons so Eddie knows he’ll be well looked after. “I’ll take Denny for your next date night.”

“Eddie, it’s no problem,” She reassures him. “How’s Buck doing?”

Eddie looks through to the dimly lit front room, a floor lamp the only source of illumination with the curtains of every window drawn tightly closed against the intrusive eyes of the press. The house itself is well set back from the road and well shielded from view by the sheer amount of trees and greenery surrounding the property, but Buck had blocked out the world anyway.

“About how you’d expect for someone who just had a bombshell dropped on him the way he did.”

“God, I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling right now. Tell him we love him, okay, and that we’re here if he needs anything.”

Eddie nods, even though Hen can’t see it through the phone. “I will, thanks again, Hen.”

He hangs up, slipping his phone into his pocket, and grabs the glass of water he’d already filled before making the call, making his way back to where Buck sat curled up on his couch.

“Here,” Eddie holds the glass out, Buck taking it with a shaky hand just the same as his sister had earlier at the station, as lowers himself onto the seat beside Buck’s legs. For a tall man, it’s amazing how small he’s made himself, knees tucked up so far they’re practically under his chin.

“Thanks,” Buck’s voice is raspy, overworked from the intensity of his cries, and his face is still pretty red and blotchy. The tears seem to have dried up, though, either that or he’s run himself completely dry. He mostly now looks exhausted and in need of a good twelve-hour sleep.

“Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat?” Eddie asks, wanting to do something, anything, to help. Buck shakes his head, taking a few sips of water before stretching to place the glass on the coffee table. “Do you want to talk about it?” He prompts when Buck remains silent.

He has no sage words, no advice to offer the man, but he can listen if Buck wants to talk, rant and rage, or shout.

“I don’t even know where to start, I just…” Buck says quietly, eyes fixed on his knees, trailing off before letting out a slight huff of a laugh which Eddie suspects is more out of frustration than humour. “I was going to say I can’t believe my parents lied to me all this time, but that actually tracks. Maddie on the other hand, we were always supposed to have each other’s backs, it was supposed to be me and her against the world. Against them.”

Maddie’s words from earlier come back to him. “She said they aren’t bad people, just bad parents. What did she mean by that?” His heart upticks behind his ribs are the possible connotations of that statement. “Were…did they—”

“They weren’t abusive,” Buck says, looking at Eddie for the first time since he fell into his arms on the patio. “At least not in the way you’re thinking. They didn’t hit us, we had clean clothes and there was always enough food, but they were…absent, I guess. I mean, the only time I really got any attention from them was when I got hurt, so I started getting hurt on purpose just to get some affection. Mom, she always had this look on her face, especially when she looked at me, like she’d rather be elsewhere, anywhere but around me. Now I know why. Because I’m the reason her kid is dead.”

Eddie wants to reach for him, comfort him, but Buck is still curled in on himself and his body language is telling Eddie that’s where he wants to stay. He settles instead for placing a hand on the man’s knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the joint.

“You’re not the reason, Buck, he was sick. From what Maddie said he had been for a while,” Eddie tries reasoning with him.

“Yeah, but I’m the one with the defective body parts,” Buck yells and in a flash, he’s off the couch and pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace while fisting his hands in his hair. “I’m the one that was supposed to save him and I couldn’t even do that. It’s my fault, Eddie! I killed the brother I didn’t even have!”

“You didn’t kill him, Buck.”

Buck rounds on him, the anger from earlier back, and Eddie’s convinced that if he looked at the vein in his neck it would be pulsing.

“Didn’t I? Because that’s how it looks to me. That’s how it feels to me, Eddie.”

“Maddie said you were a match—”

“So then why didn’t it work?” Buck stops, turning to Eddie and looking at him with such desperation, as though Eddie has the answers he needs, and it kills Eddie that he doesn’t have them. “Why couldn’t I save him?” A sob escapes him on the last word and Eddie can’t hold himself back any longer.

Buck reaches for him before Eddie has even made it halfway and clings to him once Eddie has him in his arms. He sobs into Eddie’s shoulder, repeating his desperate question over and over and all Eddie can say is that he doesn’t know and that it wasn’t his fault, repeating the statement in the hopes that it might eventually sink in.

Eddie doesn’t even want to think about how much the bottle of tequila in his hand costs. Buck had cracked the seal and taken a large swig before passing the bottle to him and opening a bottle of wine. He takes a polite sip, more to humor Buck than out of actually wanting a drink, but he’s then handed a very generous measure of red wine.

“I shouldn’t, I’ve gotta drive home at some point,” Eddie says, setting the glass down on the kitchen island.

“Chris is staying at Hen’s tonight, right?” He waits for Eddie’s nod of confirmation then nods his head toward the hallways leading off the kitchen. “Then you can just stay, I have plenty of room. Besides, it’s no fun drinking alone.”

“I always won—wondered why there was such a big age gap between Maddie and me,” A violent hiccup interrupts his musing which draws a drunken snigger out of Eddie. “I always just figured that they only wanted one kid and then whoops, there I was.”

“A happy accident,” Eddie tops up his glass before reaching to do the same to Buck’s.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Buck raises his glass in salute. “Not a happy accident, just an accident. Maddie was eight when I was born so I just assumed they were so distant because, you know, they’d done the whole baby thing already.”

“Christopher was an accident,” Eddie says, lounging back into the extreme plushness of the couch cushions. It makes his own sofa feel like a stone bench in comparison.

“Best damn accident of my life.”

It’s late, the tequila bottle is half gone and they’ve made their way through two bottles of wine. There’s no way Eddie’s making it home tonight, but he’s at least got promise of, what he imagines will be, the best night’s sleep of his life on a very expensive mattress in one of Buck’s many spare rooms.

Buck had given him a tour earlier, showing him every room and pointing out his favorite features in each from the artwork to the items he’s snuck home from various movies or TV shows he’s been in.

Just as with the outside, the interior of Buck’s house isn’t anything like he’s pictured it to be. There’s no trace of white-washed walls or marble, no dramatic chandeliers or ostentatious sculptures, instead, it’s warm tones and wooden beams and sentimental nicknacks that all have a personal story attached. It’s comfy, cosy, and relatively modest.

“That kid is the best!” Buck confirms. “You’d never lie to him like that.”

“Never.”

“Never ever. Hey, where’s the wine gone? Huh,” Buck frowns, snatching up the empty bottle from the coffee table and holding it up to the light, squinting through the glass at the absence of liquid. “It’s okay, I have more.”

“’S good wine,” Hauling him off the couch Eddie follows, or more staggers, after Buck back to the kitchen and watches as he pulls another bottle of red from the well-stocked rack.

“It should be at $500 a bottle—”

Eddie coughs mid-sip at the price tag, his nostrils burning as wine shoots out of his nose. “$500?” He rasps, looking at Buck incredulously. “You’re telling me we’ve already drunk $1000 worth of wine? Holy shit!”

“Guess I shouldn’t tell you how much the tequila cost then?”

“It’s funny, well, not funny haha, but like, funny ironic,” They’ve relocated to the patio, the stars above them twinkling through the branches of the overhanging trees as they recline on sun loungers next to the pool. The temperature has dropped enough that Buck has snagged them each a blanket from the pool house, and it’s late enough that the moon has reached its highest point in the sky. “But I’m remembering things. Like stuff I heard my parents say but didn’t really understand.”

They stopped drinking after they’d finished the last bottle, $2000 worth of wine consumed between them along with the untold cost of half a bottle of tequila, and the little patio table between them is stacked with snacks, both of them dipping in in an attempt to soak up the alcohol.

It’s working somewhat, the world spins less when Eddie moves his head, but he’s still well under the influence, his tongue loose and the promise of a hefty hangover in the morning.

“There was one time they were fighting, Maddie had found a bike in the garage, I guess it must have been Daniel’s, but she was teaching me how to ride it when I fell off and busted my knee open. Mom got mad and was yelling at Dad saying that they live with the reminder every day. She must have meant me.”

Eddie can’t comprehend the effect losing a child would have on someone, he’s never experienced it and he hopes that he never will, but he also can’t comprehend treating his child the way Buck’s parents treated him.

“They had to live in that house with me every day after he died, after I failed—”

“You didn’t fail, Buck,” Eddie reminded him for the thousandth time, eyes still fixed on the stars. He’d say another thousand times if it meant Buck would believe it. “It wasn’t your fault the transplant didn’t work.

“Meh.”

A silence fell between them, punctuated only by the sound of crickets chirping. Eddie assumes that the press is long gone by now, although he expects they’ll return in the morning. Maddie has been texting him periodically throughout the evening asking how Buck is and thanking him for being there. So far, Buck has been resistant to speak to her, saying he just needed some space which Eddie had relayed to her as gently as he could. She’d taken it gracefully, simply asking Eddie to tell Buck that the second he was ready she would be there. But for now, his phone lays silent on the ground next to his lounger, the last message having come through over an hour ago.

His eyes are getting heavy, the wine and tequila doing their best to pull him to the blissful land of a drunken sleep, but a sudden movement from next to him has Eddie snapping his eyes open in time to catch Buck standing by the edge of the pool and pulling his t-shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, hearing the slight slur to his own words.

“Goin’ for a swim,” Buck states, like it should have been obvious. He stumbles as he kicks off one sneaker at the same time as trying to unbutton his jeans.

“Sure that’s a good idea? You’ve had a lot to drink,” He forces himself upright, swallowing against the hint of nausea that comes from a prolonged drinking session. He hasn’t drunk this much in a long time so he’s definitely feeling out of practice.

“I’m a good swimmer, besides,” Buck lets out a crow of success when he finally gets the button undone, shoving his jeans down his thighs. “I’ve got my own personal firefighter here, if I drown you can save me.”

Eddie takes in the sheer broadness of Buck’s chest compared to the slightness of his waist as Buck stands before him in just his briefs. Well, he’s got his answer as to what kind of underwear Buck wears.

Buck hops on one leg as he tries to pull off his other shoe, jeans caught around his calves and Eddie sees what’s about to happen before it does. Buck hops too close to the edge of the pool, losing his balance, and Eddie can’t get off the sun lounger fast enough to catch him. Buck falls backward into the water, disappearing under the surface with an enormous splash, and Eddie dives in after him, not stopping to remove his clothes.

Well, it’s less of a dive and more of a belly flop, and Buck’s knee jams into his stomach when he lands almost on top of him. They break the surface, both of them coughing and spluttering for a second before dissolving into hysterics.

“At least the water is warm,” Eddie grins, pulling his soaking wet shirt over his head and tossing it over the edge of the pool onto the patio to deal with later. “And my phone wasn’t in my pocket.”

“Fuck!” Buck fishes under the water for his jeans, pulling them and his sneaker off and shoving his hand into a front pocket, pulling out his waterlogged phone. It only serves to throw them further into hysteria as Buck abandons everything with Eddie’s shirt. “Thank god I back everything up to the cloud.” He says.

Eddie swims backward toward the shallow end where there’s a little waterfall, standing beneath it and letting the warm water run over his shoulders. The unexpected swim has certainly helped to sober him up a little more than the food has done, but he’d still fail a field sobriety test, and when Buck swims over to join him under the flow of water Eddie can’t help but run his eyes over the plains of Buck’s chest.

He watches a droplet of water as it drips over Buck’s collarbone, trails over a pec, and gets caught on his nipple before falling into the pool, irrationally jealous of the path it just took.

“Hey, no jeans in the pool,” Eddie snaps out of his thoughts to find Buck’s hands on his belt, fighting to get the wet leather through the buckle, giggling, for lack of a better word, as he tries to free Eddie from his trousers.

“Buck—”

“C’mon, Eddie get ‘em off.”

“Buck, stop—”

“The chlorine’s going to ruin them—”

“Just let me—”

“Look, see? We can just—”

“Buck!” Eddie grabs Buck’s wrists, stopping him in his tracks as he starts trying to undo his fly and it’s only when Buck looks up at him that Eddie realizes how close they are. He can see the small droplets of water clinging to Buck’s eyelashes, he can see a faint scar on his forehead, he can see every detail of the birthmark peppering his left eye. He can see the way Buck’s pupils dilate as he leans closer.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie murmurs. Buck pauses but doesn’t back away.

“Sorry for what?” Buck’s eyes flick between each of Eddie’s as though looking for the answer to his own question.

“Calling you exhausting. You’re not,” He loosens his grip on Buck’s wrists and the man takes it as an opportunity to turn his hands over, moving them to link their fingers together. “Not at all.”

“It’s okay,” Buck gives a small shrug. “I kind of am, but now I know why.”

Eddie knows he needs to say more, needs to explain why he said what he did, needs to make sure Buck knows that he doesn’t really think he’s exhausting, but that the word came out of frustration and confusion. But there’s a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, so light and delicate that he never would have seen them if Buck wasn’t so close, and he’s so distracted by them that the explanation is gone.

In the end, he doesn’t know which one of them leans in first, or maybe it’s neither of them, maybe they move at the same time, but one second he’s counting those freckles, and the next Buck’s lips are on his, soft, warm, and wet.

It’s a tentative, slow kiss, only enhanced when one of Buck’s hands comes up to cup Eddie’s cheek and guide his head to one side allowing the kiss to deepen. Eddie lets it, welcoming Buck’s tongue into his mouth and caressing it with his own, but it stays languid and gentle.

Eddie pulls away first, resting his forehead against Buck’s as the reality of what’s happening settles over him. They shouldn’t be doing this, not when they’ve both had a lot to drink and there’s the potential for questionable decisions to be made that might be regretted in the hash light of day.

“We, uh,” Eddie whispers after clearing his throat, not wanting to break the moment but knowing he needs to. “We should get some sleep.” They need to talk, about a lot of things, but especially about that kiss, but Eddie needs to do so with a clear head.

“Y-yeah, you’re probably right,” Lifting his head from Buck’s Eddie watches the man’s face for a moment. His eyes flick down to Eddie’s lips a few times as though they’re drawing him back in and he rocks forward minutely before taking a purposeful step back. “I, uh, I can lend you some clothes. We can stick yours in the washer.”

Eddie nods his thanks and the moment is over.

They wade to the steps, climbing out and Eddie slips out of his sopping jeans while Buck gathers up the remains of their snacks, taking everything back inside. He wrings out as much water as he can, repeating the process with his t-shirt and Buck’s clothes before scooping up both their phones.

“The machine is just through there,” Buck says, pointing to a room off the kitchen, and by the time Eddie returns after having deposited the wet items he finds Buck laying his phone in a bowl of uncooked rice.

“You think that will work?” He asks as Buck pours more rice over the top of the dark screen.

Buck sighs. “Probably not, but I remember reading somewhere that it might help, always wanted to try it.” He flashes Eddie a grin and that makes him want to mash their faces together but he’s extremely conscious of the fact that they’re both standing there in just their wet underwear.

“You mentioned lending some clothes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buck blinks and seems to refocus himself then leads Eddie down the hallways to the master bedroom, grabbing a pair of sleep shorts and a vest and handing both to Eddie along with the offer of using his bathroom.

Once inside Eddie takes a moment to dry his hair off on a towel before stripping off his wet underwear and pulling on the borrowed clothes. Through the door, he can hear the sounds of Buck moving around and the opening and closing of drawers. He gives it another minute before heading out, hoping he’s given Buck enough time to change, and finds that the man is already dressed in similar sleep attire and is in the middle of tossing the decretive pillows on his bed to the floor.

“Where should I…” Eddie gestures awkwardly back down the hallway waiting for Buck to direct him to which bedroom he should use, but instead, Buck flushes and looks between Eddie and his bed.

“I was, um, you could…would you stay with me?” He sounds so insecure as he says it, as though he’s expecting Eddie to say no. “I just kinda really don’t want to be alone right now.”

And if that doesn’t just break Eddie’s heart.

“Of course,” Eddie nudges his shoulder against Buck’s then points at him and quirks one eyebrow at him in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Just no funny business, okay? No getting handsy.”

It has the desired effect. A smile breaks out over Buck’s face. “Hey, I make no promises,” He jokes, heading around to the opposite side of the bed and climbing in. “I get clingy in my sleep.”

“Good to know,” Eddie sets his phone on the nightstand and slips into the bed next to him, relaxing back against the pillows as Buck pulls the covers over both of them.

“Damn, it’s like laying on a cloud. Do not tell me how much this mattress costs.”

“Deal,” Buck switches out the light, settling on his side facing Eddie. The lights are still on in the pool and just enough of it filters through the gap in the curtains to be able to make out Buck’s face in the dark. “Thank you, Eddie, for coming over. I know this probably wasn’t how you pictured spending your evening.”

Eddie rolls onto his side to face him, reaching over for Buck’s hand. “I’m glad I came.”

Buck drifts off first, his eyes slipping closed quickly as the weight of the day finally overtakes him and Eddie hopes he’s tired enough that he’ll have a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Buck wasn’t lying, he is a clinger.

Eddie wakes as the sun rises, stifling hot, with Buck plastered along his side from shoulder to knee and drooling onto his chest. He also really needs to pee.

It takes a minute more than is safe for his bladder for Eddie to untangle Buck’s limbs. They’re woven around Eddie’s body and each time he manages to dislodge them Buck shifts in his sleep and latches back on. It takes sliding a pillow between the man’s arms Indiana Jones style for Eddie to finally free himself. He strips off the vest Buck lent him as he pads into the bathroom, mopping the sweat and drool from his chest and tossing it into the laundry hamper beside the sink.

His head throbs, a reminder of just how much alcohol he and Buck consumed last night, and given that he can’t have slept more than five or six hours at most Eddie is pretty sure he’s probably still legally drunk. He certainly can’t drive home yet.

Opting to sit to pee, Eddie props his elbows on his knees, allowing him to cradle his sore head in his hands and press his thumbs into his temples. It helps relieve the ache a little and he keeps doing it for a while even after his bladder is empty.

Coffee. He needs coffee, and maybe some food to help soak up the alcohol and make him feel more human. Judging by the consistency of the snores drifting in from the bedroom Buck is still sound asleep and might be for a while. Eddie’s always been an early riser, his army days, being a father, and a constantly changing shift schedule mean that his body is trained to grab sleep when it can. But it also means that when he wakes from sleep he’s wide awake, mind alert ready to spring into action at any moment.

Caffeine and food, then maybe a shower, although Eddie will admit his eyes keep landing on Buck’s bathtub. Buck’s a big guy, he has an inch or two on Eddie, but the tub looks like it would easily hold the both of them. It's an image Eddie would rather like to ponder on but needs to put out of his mind for now. At least until the two of them can talk.

Quickly washing his hands he then runs them through his hair in a vain attempt to tame his bedhead then snags his phone from the nightstand on his way through to the kitchen. He’d familiarised himself with the layout the day before when he’d helped Buck raid the cabinets for snacks but his heart drops when he takes in the coffee machine for the first time.

Of course, it’s a fucking Hildy. There are more knobs and buttons on the front of the machine than in the entirety of Eddie’s truck and all he wants is a damn cup of coffee.

After a fruitless search for any sign of instant granules, Eddie starts stabbing at random buttons, even going so far as to Google how a Hildy works, but there are so many different types of the damn machine. Eddie is still trying to figure it out when Buck finally stumbles into the kitchen twenty minutes later.

He looks rough, to say the least, obvious handover aside, his eyes are a little puffy still from the sheer amount of crying he had done the day before, and deep bruises sit beneath each of them. He may have slept, but Eddie doesn’t think it was necessarily a peaceful sleep.

“Morning,” Buck grunts a response, making it as far as the island and bending at the waist until he can lay his head against the cool stone countertop. “That bad, huh?”

“I haven’t drunk that much since the Emmys,” He mumbles into the island.

“Here,” Eddie tosses over the blister pack of Advilhe found during his search of the kitchen, having already taken some himself, and he winces as Buck dry swallows two tablets. “I would offer you a coffee but…” He gestures to the machine, a mug sitting poised under the spout.

“Hildy, brew coffee.”

“Good morning, Buck. Brewing coffee.”

The machine roars to life and within seconds a rich, dark brew starts to drip into the waiting mug. Of all the things, fucking voice control. Eddie glares at the mug as he adds Buck’s creamer before sliding it to him, then glares at the machine when he realizes he’s going to have to give the command for his own coffee.

Why can’t he just push a fucking button like a normal person?

“Hildy,” He grumbles. “Brew coffee.”

“Good morning, guest. Would you like to add your name to the—”

“No, I do not want to fucking add my name, just make the damn coffee!” Eddie snaps, and whether Hildy is clever enough to know when to shut up or she lacks the programming to format a response, he quite frankly doesn’t care.

“Jeeze, what did Hildy ever do to you?” Buck sniggers into his mug.

“I don’t like technology,” Eddie grabs the mug as soon as it’s full and turns his back on the machine. “I don’t see what’s wrong with just a regular percolator. At least it won’t try and kill me in my sleep.” He hisses the last part under his breath, not entirely convinced that Hildy isn’t listening to every word they’re saying.

Buck throws his head back, absolutely howling with laughter and gripping the counter for support.

“Hildy,” He weaves in between waves of hysteria. “Promise Eddie you won’t kill him in his sleep!”

“Hm, I don’t know how to help with that.”

Eddie feels a shiver go down his spine and flees to the living room, putting as much distance between himself and Hildy as he can and muttering ‘see!’ at Buck as the man doubles over clutching at his stomach.

“You can’t seriously be scared of Hildy,” Buck guffaws, somehow making it to the couch and plopping down next to Eddie without spilling a drop of his coffee. “She doesn’t have legs, she’s physically incapable of killing you.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the man whose Hildy shower gave him third-degree burns,” Buck’s mirth drops a little and Eddie takes perhaps a little more satisfaction than should at the fleeting look of concern.  “I’m happy to stay in my technology-free bubble for as long as I can, thank you.”

“Well, look, at least your job is safe,” Buck grins at him. “I mean, it’s not like robots are gonna be able to fight fires or pull people out of wrecked cars.”

Eddie wants to argue that there are probably already robots doing heart surgery in China, but Buck’s attention is already elsewhere. Specifically, on Eddie’s chest. He seems to have only just realized that Eddie is no longer wearing the vest he loaned last night, and his gaze is noticeably heated as it passes over Eddie’s torso.

“We should talk about what happened last night,” Eddie says, proud of himself for actually having the courage to broach the subject instead of ignoring it like he normally does with awkward or uncomfortable situations. 

Buck’s eyes travel back to Eddie’s face, an embarrassed expression forming as he sits a little more upright on the couch. “Uh, y-yeah, we—we should,” He stammers. Eddie wonders if it’s out of embarrassment or regret. “We were…well, we were drunk, right? It was probably just that.”

“Was it?” Eddie pushes. “This last week aside, I’ve kind of felt like there’s been…something. Between us. Unless I’ve been reading it wrong, which according to Taylor I have been.”

Buck frowns. “Taylor? What did—what did she say?” He looks worried, as though Taylor has spilled some deep, dark secret of his.

“She said that you’re a notorious flirt, her words, not mine,” Eddie clarifies when Buck winces. “That you do it with everyone and I shouldn’t waste my time. It’s kind of what prompted me to lay into you, but…”

“But, what?”

“She wasn’t wrong, was she?” He says carefully, gently, half as a question and half as a statement. He doesn’t want to accuse Buck of leading him on.

Buck looks away, eyes flitting around the room but landing on nothing in particular. Eddie waits him out, watching the way the muscles in his face shift as he seems to search himself for the answers Eddie is asking for.

“My life is complicated,” He starts after a stretch of silence. “The last 48 hours are proof of that. I spent my entire childhood fighting for my parents' love, for their time, and I never got it. I left home when I was 20, I’d gotten kicked out of community college which was just another thing for mom and dad to be disappointed in me for, so Maddie gave me her Jeep and I just ran.”

Buck stands from the couch and crosses to the large window that looks out over his driveway. He peers through a gap in the still-drawn curtains and sighs. Eddie guesses that the press has made a reappearance.

“I spent a couple of years on my own just traveling all over, Georgia, Virginia, Florida, Arizona, Montana, Oregon, even drove all the way down to Peru. I was trying to find where I belonged because it certainly wasn’t in Pennsylvania. Then I ended up here.”

“Is this where you belong?”

Buck shrugs, gaze still fixed out of the window. “Sometimes I feel like it is, the rest of the time I feel like an imposter,” He closes the gap in the curtains and folds his arms over his chest as he turns back to Eddie, shoulders hunching. “I didn’t plan on being an actor, I kinda just fell into it. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, and never having to worry about money again is great, but sometimes I miss my old life. I was working in this beach café down in Santa Monica, I had like, $30 to my name and was living in my car when this woman handed me a business card. She told me I had ‘just what she was looking for’. Turned out she was a casting agent.”

A shadow passes over Buck’s face, matching his protective posture and he looks so vulnerable that Eddie wants to go to him. But Buck is finally starting to open up, if Eddie interrupts him now he might clam up.

“Hollywood is…it’s a whole other world, Eddie, it’s cutthroat and brutal and people do what they have to do to get places.”

Something unpleasant settles in Eddie’s gut at the implication of his words. His mind supplies him with an image of Buck, young, impressionable, and desperate for validation in a world that had screwed him over since his conception.

“Alison Wells was just the first in a long line of people I slept with as I worked my way to where I am now, so, yeah, I have a reputation, lots of people in this industry do, but I’m not that guy anymore, Eddie.” He finally drops his arms, crawling back onto the couch and looking at Eddie desperately.

“Buck, those people, they took advantage of you,” Eddie stresses, reaching for Buck’s hand. Buck latches on tight, clinging to Eddie as though he’s a lifeline. “They manipulated you.”

Buck shakes his head. “No, it’s not like that, they didn’t force me—”

“They might not have physically held you down but it’s still coercion. It’s still not right.”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” He lifts a hand against Eddie’s argument. “That’s not why I’m telling you any of this. That day at the station, you said you didn’t know the real me, that it’s all an act you can’t keep up with which is exhaus—”

“I never should have said that.”

“And you’ve already apologized, you don’t need to do it again. But, Eddie, you weren’t wrong, about there being more than one Buck, I mean. This job, this lifestyle, you have to look and dress and just be a certain way. You always have to look your best, sound your best, you have fucking training on how to handle the press and PR people who get you onto exclusive lists and feed the media tidbits to keep your name trending. It’s exhausting.”

Buck grins slyly as he throws Eddie’s word back at him, dissolving into a short chuckle when Eddie rolls his eyes jovially in retaliation, but his mood quickly sobers again.

“This life, it’s all a performance, Eddie, not just on set but everywhere I go that is outside of these walls,” He gestures at their surroundings. “Sometimes I don’t even know which is the real me.”

Buck reaches for his hand, moving slowly as though afraid he’ll pull away, and Eddie watches as their fingers thread together. He’s held Buck’s hand so many times in the six weeks they’ve known each other, and every time it’s amazed him how perfectly they fit together. As though the groves and ridges of their fingers were made to be a perfect opposite match of the other’s, like two pieces of a puzzle.

And if that’s not the fucking cheesiest thought Eddie’s ever had.

“I have to…present myself a certain way,” He continues, eyes fixed on their joined hands where Eddie is sweeping his thumb over Buck’s. “I have to be wanted by all but obtainable by none.”

“Sounds like a pretty miserable existence,” Eddie doesn’t say it with any hint of cruelty, and by the wry smile Buck gives he didn’t receive it that way.

“It is. I think that’s why Taylor and I have always gotten on so well, she knows what it’s like living this life. That’s why she said what she did, she was just protective of me.”

More like territorial, Eddie thinks. “Protecting you from what, me?” Hurting Buck isn’t a thought that has ever crossed Eddie’s mind, or ever will.

“The world, the vultures that are currently surrounding my house, myself. Take your pick.”

As much as he’s getting answers to the unending puzzle that is Evan Buckley, Eddie still feels as though he’s missing a giant piece of the final image, and with only one cup of caffeine in his system, the hangover is starting to make itself known again. “But why does she need to protect you?” He asks, dipping his head a little to catch Buck’s eye.

“Hollywood isn’t as liberal as everyone thinks it is, Eddie. I mean, from the outside it looks pretty open and accepting, but for people like me it’s not.”

“People like you?”

Buck takes in a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself. “I’m bi, Eddie, but I’m not allowed to be out. That’s why I put on this performance around women, that’s why there are so many womanizer stories in the media, and if Taylor’s not free for an event I take another woman. If I were smaller, maybe more effeminate, and very obviously gay it would be fine, but because I’m not it would be damaging to my career to be publicly out. That’s why I have to play it straight.”

“Says who?” Eddie asks, completely aghast that Buck’s been made to believe such hateful rhetoric.

“Everyone!” Buck’s volume raises a notch and he pulls his hand away, propelling himself back off the couch to begin pacing frustratedly. “Casting directors, agents, publicists—”

“I thought Maddie was your publicist.” If Eddie was lost before he certainly is now. He may not know Maddie as well as Chimney seems to, but it’s clear by the way she came to Eddie asking him for help to check on Buck that she cares a great deal about her brother. Eddie can’t imagine the woman telling her own brother to hide his true self.

“She is,” Buck sighs, his hair now standing on end after having been subjected to his fists clenching it. “But she’s only part-time, she just does the meet and greet stuff with me, it’s my other publicist who sets the rules.”

“Is that really how you want to live your life, though, living under someone else’s rules, and constantly seeking validation? I mean, isn’t that why you left home?”

Buck either can’t or doesn’t want to answer that one. “I get that I’ve made things confusing for you,” He says, changing the subject as he drops to the floor in front of the couch, laying his hands on Eddie’s knees and looking up at him beseechingly. “And I’m sorry for that, I never meant to hurt you.”

Eddie slides his hands over Buck’s, gripping them tightly. “It’s okay, I understand it a little more now that you’ve explained.”

“I need you to know, though,” Buck’s eyes flit between their joined hands and Eddie’s face. “When I’m with you, you and Christopher, I feel like…I feel like that’s the real me. I feel like I can, I don’t know, just breathe. Everything I’ve said, everything I’ve done when it’s just you and me, that’s real, Eddie.”

Buck’s eyes are wet and red, and he’s looking at Eddie with such desperation, a plea to believe him, to see that he means every word.

“So, you and Taylor—”

“We dated for a while. It’s hard, meeting someone when you’re a household name, you never know if people just like you because you're famous and have a bit of money. Taylor, she’s in the other side of the industry so she gets it, gets me. But we’re better off as friends,” He shuffles closer on his knees, pressing himself against Eddie’s. “But there’s nothing there. I like you, Eddie. I really like you, and I want…I want to see if this could—if we could be something.”

It’s what Eddie’s been waiting to hear, hoping to hear, but even as the weight of Buck’s declaration settles over him it doesn’t settle how he’d have expected it to. It doesn’t calm his soul the way he had imagined.

Buck’s not out.

And he likely won’t be for a long time.

“Buck,” Eddie swallows over a thick throat and struggles to meet Buck’s eye, but after how honest he’s been, how he’s put every one of his insecurities on full display, it’s the least Eddie owes him. “I really like you, too, but I’m not sure I can be your secret.”

Buck doesn’t say anything, but Eddie sees in his face that he understands, that Eddie doesn’t need to say anything more. Buck nods slowly and draws back, his hands slipping from Eddie’s knees.

“It’s okay, I get it,” He offers Eddie a small smile that’s accompanied with tears. “Can we—we can still be friends, right?”

“Of course,” Eddie assures him. “I think you’re the best damn friend I’ve ever had. I have a condition, though.” He adds, pointing a finger at Buck playfully, needing a reprieve from the hurt they’re both feeling.

“S-sure.” Buck stutters, looking uncertain despite the lightness with which Eddie says it.

“Call Maddie, she’s worried about you,” Buck chuckles and drops his chin to his chest. “She made a mistake, Buck, but she’s sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” He sniffs and wipes at his eyes. “I don’t know about you but I need more caffeine before that.” Buck levers himself off of his knees and grabs his mug, leaving for the kitchen without waiting for Eddie, wiping at his eyes again as he goes.

Eddie gives him a minute before following, giving him a few moments to compose himself. Once he’s in the kitchen he’s out of sight but Eddie can still hear the odd sniff as Buck asks Hildy to make him another coffee.

By the time he heads through Buck seems to have composed himself and has started on making them something to eat. He sniggers when Eddie reluctantly asks Hildy for his own fresh cup, cracking two eggs into the batter he’s mixing.

He flips Buck the finger and takes a seat at the island, watching Buck work.

“So,” He says, eyes Buck over the rim of his mug. “Maddie and Chim?”

Chapter Text

It’s two weeks before he sees Buck again. Filming has started and all of Buck’s time is taken up by sixteen-hour days on set which means that, by the time he finally has a day off, there’s only a week to go before the gala and Eddie still has nothing to wear.

Chimney, Hen, and Bobby all have their outfits sorted already. Chimney had even brought his suit in one shift, putting it on and parading through the engine bay as though he was walking the runway in Milan. He had opted for a navy suit with a wide check pattern and a light blue pocket square. It’s the smartest Eddie has ever seen the man look.

Bobby had shown a picture on his phone of him holding his suit, the garment bag open enough to show a light grey three-piece with a light and dark blue striped tie. Judging by the large smile on Bobby’s face in the photo Eddie suspects it was a new purchase found with Athena’s assistance.

There had been some debate amongst them as to whether or not Hen would go for a floor-length gown, but when they had suggested it to her she had cast a raised eyebrow at them and asked when they had ever seen her in a dress. She had mentioned something about a pantsuit but otherwise remained tight-lipped, never one to be overly interested in the subject of fashion.

Eddie has looked for something for himself, perhaps not as hard as he should have given that the gala is now only six days away, but formalwear isn’t his forte. He’s much more comfortable in a henley and jeans. The only suit he owns is the one he wore to his niece’s christening four years ago and even then it had been an affordable off-the-rack option from the nearest outlet mall, worn once and then buried in the back of the closet.

Which is how he now finds himself in an upscale store in Beverly Hills, trying to hold in his panic at the price tags on the suits Buck keeps handing him to try on.

“$1600?” He squeaks incredulously, backing away in fear of contaminating the suit from just being in close proximity to it.

“Just try it on,” Buck holds the hanger out to him, shaking it a little. “It’s just to check the style, that’s all.”

Eddie wants to argue that he has to have tried on most of the store by now but he takes the suit anyway, rolling his eyes at the triumphal grin on Buck’s face, and retreats into the dressing room.

Things had been a little awkward between them in the days immediately following what had transpired at Buck’s house, texts between the two which up until then had been flowing steadily every day had dwindled to a few every other day. Even then, they were short and to the point. When Buck had picked him up that morning in his huge, shiny truck, there hadn’t been their usual full-body hug that they would normally have shared, rather a stilted bumping of fists.

Conversation on the drive to Beverly Hills had also been a little forced, but once they had stepped into the store and Buck had the salespeople gathering different styles of suits for Eddie to try on, the tension in the man’s shoulders had melted away.

One of the many things Eddie has learned about Buck over the past two months is that he needs to keep busy, whether it’s a physical task or a mental one, Buck always needs to be doing something.

Today, that something is making sure Eddie is appropriately suited and booted for the gala.

Eddie has to admit that Buck has good taste, every suit he’s picked out for Eddie to try on has looked good, not just on the hanger but on him, too. Still, every single one has been out of his price range, significantly so and he doesn’t know how he’s going to get out of the store without maxing out his credit card.

He climbs out of the suit pants he’s already wearing, carefully folding them over the spine of the hanger to avoid any creases, and following it with the jacket, leaving him in just his briefs and the crisp black shirt a salesperson had handed him. Looking at the new suit Buck is forcing him to try it’s not going to with the royal blue so he slips that off too, leaving him in his briefs.

“Hey, I’ve got a different shirt option—” The eyelets on the curtain squeak as the curtain to the changing room is thrown open, Buck’s words dying in his throat. He freezes on the spot, eyes slightly wide and hyper-focused on Eddie’s face until they flick down to Eddie’s near-naked form.

Buck’s seen him shirtless before, in the locker room when they’ve changed after a shift, and he saw him in nothing but a soaking wet pair of briefs after their spontaneous dip in the pool. But they were both a little distracted by the kiss that shouldn’t have happened so Eddie doubts he took much notice then, especially going by his reaction to Eddie being shirtless the next morning.

But now, there’s a pink flush to Buck’s cheeks as his eyes keep moving down Eddie’s body and it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to pull the man into the changing room with him and close the curtain.

Instead, he reaches out and takes the neatly folded shirt from Buck’s hand, the motion jump starts Buck into moving again.

“S-sorry,” He stutters, shaking himself a little as though bringing himself back to full awareness. “I’ll—I’ll just…” He thumbs over his shoulder, turning quickly on the spot and, for lack of a better word, fleeing back to the shop floor.

Eddie chuckles and pulls the curtain closed, pulling on the new shirt and suit. He gives himself a look over in the mirror and he can’t deny that he looks good, the suit, of course, is doing all the work, Eddie’s positive it would make him look good even if he’s just stepped out of a 24-hour shift after putting out a five-alarm fire.

It certainly looks all of its $1600.

Buck didn’t bring him a tie, and he only had his Timberland’s so he pads out in just his socks, buttoning the jacket as he emerges onto the shop floor. The store is just as quiet as it was when they first arrived, whether it’s just because it’s a slow day for suit shopping or Buck has asked the salespeople to close the store for them Eddie doesn’t know, but it means there’s no nosy onlookers which he appreciates.

“Please tell me this is the last one,” Eddie calls out to Buck even as he spots the man picking out yet another suit. He looks Eddie up and down, taking in a visible breath and hanging the suit back on the rail.

“Yeah,” He says, a little breathy. “Yeah, I think we’re done here. It’s perfect.”

“Buck, I can’t afford this,” Eddie fiddles with the jacket sleeves, straightening them over the cuffs of the shirt and turning to look at himself in the full-length mirror. The lighting out here is better than in the dressing room, making the blue of the fabric pop brightly.

Buck appears over his reflection’s shoulder, head tilted slightly to one side as he takes in the full look. “We need a tie,” He says, turning to the salesman who scurries away. “And a pocket square, please.”

Less than a minute later Buck is holding two ties, comparing the shade before handing one back and popping up the collar of the shirt, looping the tie around Eddie’s neck and starting to knot it.

“Where did you learn how to do a tie?” He asks, attempting to distract himself from how close Buck is standing.

“Not from my dad,” Buck shrugs, methodically wrapping the silk and pulling the knot flush against the top button. “It was Maddie, actually. My first red carpet event, one where I really had to dress up, she took one look at the mess I’d made of it and redid it for me. The next day she taught me several different knots.”

He takes one of the proffered pocket squares, folding it skilfully, and slips it into Eddie’s breast pocket. He fiddles with it a little until he’s satisfied with the placement and then smooths down the collar and lapels.

“Are you sure this goes?” Eddie asks, looking down at the tie. Buck has gone for black, the color looking quite stark next to the suit. “Isn’t black and blue a no-no?”

“It’s cobalt, actually,” Buck says, looking up. His head moves back slightly, as though realizing their close proximity, and he swallows audibly, palms still resting on Eddie’s chest. “Well, t-technically it’s in between cobalt and lapis.”

They’re so close Eddie can smell the peppermints Buck had sucked on the drive over. He can smell his cologne, the same scent he always wears, woodsy with a hint of citrus.

“I like it,” Eddie breathes, although he’s not talking about the suit.

“Me, too.”

“Shall I ring you up?” The moment is broken, the salesperson looking at them expectantly.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Buck glares at him. “Eddie.”

“Buck, I can’t afford this. I’ll just wear the suit I already have.” Eddie turns, giving himself one last look at the ensemble before he takes it off, lamenting a little that he’ll probably never get the opportunity to wear something this expensive again.

“Then let me get it for you,” He argues.

“Buck, we’ve already talked about this,” Eddie reminds him of the conversation in the truck weeks back which he’d shut down quickly.

Buck doesn’t say anything further and Eddie retreats to change. Leaving the suits as the salesman instructs him to and comes back to find Buck being handed back his credit card.

“Seriously, man?” He gripes, less than amused, but his anger quickly dissolves when Buck smiles bashfully at him.

“Just think of it as an apology,” Buck shrugs, slipping the card into his wallet along with the receipt.

Eddie frowns. “An apology for what?” A slight apprehension blooms at the guilty look that morphs onto Buck’s face.

“Well, um, word of your auction has kind of gotten out and there’s one name in particular who’s apparently been quite vocal about wanting to win you.”

“Do I even want to know?” Eddie groans.

“Virginia Astor.”

Virginia Astor, it turns out, is exactly the thirsty old Hollywood type that Taylor had warned him about.

“Jesus,” Eddie squints at his phone screen as he reads aloud from yet another article on how problematic the woman is. Next to him, Chimney is grinning with mirth as he loudly smacks his gum. “’Famous for her unique beauty and dramatic talents, Virginia Astor is one of Hollywood’s most problematic actresses. From Oscar's to orgies, to throwing props at members of the film crew, Virginia often found herself in the headlines but not always for the right reasons.’”

“I remember her,” Bobby muses from behind the stove where he’s chopping vegetables for that evening’s stir-fry. “She was my dad’s favorite actress. I seem to remember something about getting caught in her trailer with a gigolo.”

“That’s not helpful, Cap,” Eddie scowls, flicking a stray bean sprout at him as Chimney starts laughing even harder.

“Also, they’re called sex workers now,” Hen adds as she peers over Eddie’s shoulder at the article.

“Look at it this way, Diaz, she’s loaded, right? At least you’ll get a good tip!” Chim loses his balance, almost topping from the stall as he clutches his side practically guffawing, and Eddie seizes the opportunity to give him a shove helping him on his way to the floor. “Hey!”

“Yeah, well, it’s your fault I’m in this mess in the first place,” He counters, sparing no sympathy for the elbow Chim knocked on his way down. “God, why the hell did I say yes?”

Bobby, ever the neutral party, sets down the knife and levels Eddie with a look. “I’m sure Buck will understand if you’re not comfortable with doing the auction, he won’t hold it against you.”

Eddie knows he wouldn’t but he doesn’t want to let the man down, especially now that a date with him is officially up for grabs. Buck had assured Eddie that he wouldn’t have to spend any money on whoever won him, that it was only his company that was being bid on, which given the current conversation didn’t offer him much reassurance.

Hen snags a slice of pepper as Bobby resumes chopping. “And look, she’s just one of the potential bidders who are going to be there, there’s no guarantee that she’ll win.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And even if she does,” Bobby cuts Chimney off, using the tone he always does when he’s drawing a line under an argument. “I’m sure it will be fine and Eddie has nothing to worry about. There’s probably very little truth to most of those articles.”

Eddie wants to agree, he knows now that a lot of the stuff published about Buck is false or exaggerated, but after the whole thing with Buck’s brother Eddie knows that sometimes the press is bang on the nose.

“It says here,” Chim waves his phone at Eddie, another grin plastered on his face. “She’s been married and divorced seven times and two of those to the same man. Perhaps you’ll be the one that finally sticks.”

Five seconds later Chimney ends up on the floor again.

Never have the words ‘like a fish out of water’ felt more accurately applied than to how Eddie feels right now.

It started when a limo pulled up outside his house at four-thirty that afternoon, Hen and Chim already on board and making the most of the complimentary minibar. Then it was a quick pitstop to pick up Bobby before they headed across the city to the gala, Chim recording the entire journey on his phone for posterity.

When the driver opens the door outside the W hotel revealing the classic Hollywood red carpet, Eddie has to swallow down the feeling of rocks tumbling around in his stomach and focus on not tripping over himself as he climbs out of the limo last. He’s instantly blinded by an onslaught of flashing lights and has no idea where he’s supposed to be going until Bobby places a hand on his shoulder. He steers Eddie toward Hen and Chim who are already posing up a storm for the photographers, the latter clearly loving the attention.

There’s been a handful of times over the years when Eddie has seen his friends dressed up, the last time was Hen and Karen’s renewal of their vows the summer before, but everyone is looking particularly smart tonight. Hen’s suit was everything Eddie had expected it to be, slightly quirky just like her, and such a stark difference from the uniform Eddie’s used to seeing her in.

Even if the photographers have no idea who they are there are calls for them to turn in every which direction, instructions being shouted that Eddie can’t make out because his attention is already elsewhere.

At the top of the illuminated stairs speaking into a microphone being held by a reporter is Buck and the sight of him is enough to take Eddie’s breath away.

Literally. He has to suck in a quick breath to stop him from choking on his own tongue which earns him a confused look from Bobby.

Buck looks incredible. Eddie had caught a hint of Buck’s jacket in an Instagram post he’d made an hour ago, but Buck hadn’t given Eddie any details about what he’d be wearing tonight. The red and gold floral design is the perfect balance of eye-catching and subtle against the black fabric of his jacket, and the white trousers are perfectly tailored around his ankles making his legs look incredibly long.

He's animated, smiling brightly as he talks to the reporter and moving his hands around in the way he does when he’s excited about something. Eddie knows the pictures being taken of him right now are going to look like his completely disinterested and that’s because he is. All he’s interested in is looking at Buck.

A man in a tux wearing a headset ushers them along the carpet, the next limousine pulling up to the curb as the photographer's attention moves on to the new arrivals, and Eddie keeps his sights on Buck as he follows behind the rest of the 118.

Buck turns, gesturing over the various people walking the carpet, and pauses mid-answer when he spots them. His smile grows even wider and he waves enthusiastically at them, beckoning them over.

“Sasha, let me introduce you to the real stars here tonight,” Eddie hears him say as they climb the steps toward him. “This is Captain Bobby Nash of the Los Angeles Fire Department, and firefighters Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, and Eddie Diaz.”

As he says Eddie’s name Buck claps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. There’s a sparkle in the man’s eyes that tells Eddie he may have already had one or two glasses of Champagne, but the smile he directs at Eddie is infectious and one that Eddie can’t stop himself from returning.

He misses most of the questions the reporter asks them, nodding along half-heartedly with the answers the others give and all the while sneaking sideways glances at Buck. There’s at least two days’ worth of stubble on his face and all Eddie can think about is how it would feel scratching against his own.

“And I hear that you are the star attraction tonight?”

“Hmm?” Eddie turns wide eyes on the reporter, caught out by his lack of concentration on the conversation.

“We’ve been hearing all about the fantastic prizes up for grabs in tonight’s auction but yours is all anyone is talking about. How does it feel to be the most sought-after item on the list?”

“Oh, uh, well, I’m just doing my bit for charity,” Eddie answers, awkwardly. “It’s, uh, it’s a great cause.” The reporter looks like she’s about to press him for more but Buck sweeps in and saves his ass, telling her they have to start heading inside and Eddie lets Buck guide him with a hand on the small of his back.

Eddie never wants him to let go.

God, he really needs to pull himself together.

It takes at least half an hour, if not more, for them to make it through the lobby and into the ballroom, Buck stopping to proudly introduce them to every other person they pass on their way. Everyone greets them with brilliant white smiles and warm handshakes, thanking them for their service to the city, and it reminds Eddie of the times he would go off base in his uniform, strangers stopping him to thank him for serving his country.

The general consensus from everyone seems to be that they are the real stars in attendance tonight, Chim unashamedly laps up the praise while Hen and Bobby offer refrained thanks. Eddie lets them do the talking, perfectly happy to just stand next to Buck.

The ballroom itself is opulent, with white curtains draping from the ceiling and delicately decorated with twinkling lights that reflect off the mirrored centerpieces on each of the tables.

“That’s the auction sign up over there,” Buck points to a table next to a large stage in front of a dance floor, a crowd of people already surrounding it and no doubt writing down their bids.

“How much is he up to?” Chimney asks, rocking up onto his toes as he tries to peer over the mingling guests toward the table as though he might see Eddie’s price tag from this distance.

“Uh, last I looked it was $25,000.”

“T-twenty-five—” Eddie blurts, completely stunned. Someone is willing to pay twenty-five thousand dollars for a few hours of his company. Holy shit.

“Damn, Edmundo,” Hen whistles. “Don’t let it go to your head, you still have to do your share of the chores.”

Eddie recovers enough from his shock to roll his eyes. Twenty-five thousand dollars is certainly a lot of money, but just looking about the room and taking in the pure wealth of their surroundings tells him that the number is only going to keep rising.

“Ok, so the dinner starts in twenty,” Buck tells them, checking his watch. “Then there’ll be some speeches and a little presentation about the charity and a little thing about the auction, then it’s all music and dancing until the early hours.”

“So, we’re good to mingle for a bit, then?” Chim asks, dashing off as soon as Buck gives him an affirmative nod and instantly introducing himself to someone Eddie thinks was in the last Star Wars film but isn’t entirely sure. Hen moves in the opposite direction, also introducing herself to someone who immediately envelops her into the group he’s with.

Eddie turns to Bobby. “At least I’m not the only one who's not star-struck—”

“Oh my god, it’s Meryl Streep,” Bobby hisses excitedly. “I loved her in Mama Mia. Meryl!” A few heads turn at his shout as Bobby weaves through the mingling celebrities to his target, bending slightly at the waist when he reaches her almost as though he’s bowing to royalty.

“Anyone you want to meet?” Buck asks, eyes scanning the room before lifting a hand to wave to someone. Eddie follows his eye line and spots Taylor, her red hair making her stand out, and she raises her glass in greeting at them. He hasn’t seen the woman since that day at the station when she advised Eddie to back away, and even though he now knows the reasoning behind the words it doesn’t mean he likes the woman.

“I’m happy here,” Eddie turns his back on Taylor and nudges a shoulder against Buck’s.

“You sure? We’ve got Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg, Michelle Pfeiffer, Harrison Ford,” Buck points out the people Eddie never dreamed he would be standing in the same room with, but Eddie’s not overly fussed. If they pass him then sure, he’ll say hello, but he’s not star-struck like the others are.

There’s only one celebrity Eddie wants to spend the evening with.

“Oh, there he is, Evan, darling!” A loud voice sounds over the top of the clinking glasses and idol chatter filling the ballroom, and Eddie only has to see the sudden panic on Buck’s face for his heart to drop into his stomach.

A short older woman, draped in far too many pearls and diamonds than is healthy, barges her way past people heading in their direction. She has to be at least eighty but her face is pulled so tight from what Eddie assumes is multiple cosmetic surgeries that it’s hard to gauge, but he instantly recognizes her as Virginia Astor.

“Run!” Buck hisses grabbing Eddie’s hand and weaving between bodies, Eddie only just manages to keep up and not trip over his own feet in the rush to safety. He suddenly finds himself pressed into a corner, shielded behind a pillar are a large floral arrangement.

Buck peers around the pillar, hand still clasping Eddie’s and he lets out what can only be described as a fucking giggle when he says that the coast is clear. “My hero,” Eddie proclaims, panting a little from the excitement.

Grinning, Buck steps back into the sanctuary of their impromptu hiding place, crowding against Eddie to keep them out of sight. It puts them closer than they’ve been since Eddie woke up to Buck fast asleep on his chest, his breath warm as it puffs out over his nose and mouth.

Eddie’s hands instinctively find their way to Buck’s waist, fingers slipping beneath the jacket and hooking over the top of his belt. Buck all but collapses against Eddie’s chest and rests their foreheads together until they’re sharing what’s left of the air between them.

“I thought I was going to have to beat her off with a stick,” He murmurs lowly, one hand coming up to brace himself on the pillar while the other slide over Eddie’s hip, not stopping until he’s got a firm grip on Eddie’s ass.

He’s hard. Eddie can feel the firm length pressing against his own when Buck rocks forward slightly, both of them stifling a moan.

“Buck,”

This…they shouldn’t be doing this. They agreed. Friends only.

“I know,” Buck whispers, his lips ghosting a barely there kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. The muscles beneath his hands are tense and trembling where he suspects Buck is trying to stop himself from rocking forward again. “I know, but, god, I—”

There’s a whine and a crackle as a microphone is switched on, a voice coming across the speaker asking everyone to take their seats for the meal. It’s enough to remind them both that, even though they’re tucked away out of direct sight, they’re still very much in public. Buck makes a noise that sounds almost like a whimper as he peels himself away, straightening his clothes. His cheeks are flushed and Eddie’s sure his own are no better.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says as he reaches a hand out to straighten Eddie’s pocket square before meeting Eddie’s eye. “I shouldn’t…”

“It’s on me, too,” Eddie doesn’t want him taking the brunt of the blame, it takes two to tango after all, and it seems to comfort Buck a little. He gives Eddie s small nod and takes a breath.

“We better go find our table.” Buck steps back out of their hiding place and he at least waits for Eddie to fall into step alongside him rather than leaving him to make his way on his own.

Theirs is one of the tables in the centre directly in front of the stage which feels like an omen for the announcement of the auction winners later on in the evening. Bobby is already in his seat and Eddie has to stop himself from despairing when he spots that Taylor is also on their table.

She eyes the two of them as they approach, a speculative look on her face that tells Eddie they mustn’t look as inconspicuous as they were aiming for. He slips into the seat next to Hen, avoiding her eye, and tries not to feel disappointed when Buck bypasses the empty chair next to him, instead rounding the table to take the one on Taylor’s other side. Chimney takes it instead, instantly talking across him to Hen and swapping anecdotes with her about the celebrities they’ve met.

Taylor leans into Buck’s side when he sits down, talking into his ear so as to not be heard and Buck gives a small shake of his head in response, grabbing his water glass with a slightly shaky hand and downing it in one before responding.

Eddie can’t make out what he says but he doesn’t miss the unfriendly look that Taylor sends his way

Chapter Text

“The Fallen Firefighters Foundation offers vital support, funding, and resources to the families of firefighters lost in the line of duty, heroes that put their lives on the line every day to keep the American people safe from harm,” The emcee has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand, every statement garnering a round of applause that takes a while to die down. “A big thank you to Evan Buckley for nominating the foundation as tonight’s chosen charity.”

Another wave of applause ripples around the room, a spotlight swinging to focus on Buck who half stands from his seat and lifts a hand in bashful thanks for the acknowledgment. When he sits back down Taylor leans in and kisses his cheek leaving a smear of lipstick which she thumbs away with a laugh.

Eddie has a sudden urge to upend the water jug over her head.

“We’re honored tonight to have four of the best the Los Angeles Fire Department has to offer in our midst tonight, from last year's 7.1 earthquake to the tragic crash of flight LB47, the crew from station 118 plays a pivotal part in protecting our city. Please join me in recognizing the heroism of firefighters Han, Wilson, and Diaz, and their esteemed leader Captain Nash.”

The loudest applause yet grows in ferocity as Maddie, who had slipped into the seat next to Chimney just before the meal began, motions for them to stand. Chim is the first on his feet, waving to the crowd like he’s at a rally, Bobby and Hen standing to accept the praise with more dignity. Eddie is the last to move, only standing when he receives a pointed look and nod from Buck who is looking at him for the first time since they joined the table.

“An extended thank you goes to firefighter Diaz, in particular,” The emcee continues, Eddie freezing in a half crouch into his chair. “Who’s date that’s up for auction, I’m told has reached $80,000!”

The level of noise in the room increases tenfold at the amount but Eddie can barely hear it over the road of white noise that pounds through him. He’s vaguely aware of being slapped on the back and pulled upright by Chim, thrust back into the spotlight and under the eyes of the several hundred celebrities surrounding him.

Eddie’s never wished for the ground to open beneath him and swallow him whole, if anything, that happening is one of his biggest fears since the day he was buried under 30 feet of earth. But right there, at that moment, without the rest of his team to hide behind, all Eddie wants is to disappear into the void and never be seen again.

Two hours ago the highest bid was at twenty-five thousand, and now it’s more than tripled. These people have more sense than money.

His heart pounds in his chest and his throat feels tight. What the hell is going to be expected of him on this ‘date’? Buck said he wouldn’t have to pay out for anything. But Buck’s told him what things are like in the industry. What are these people bidding on, his time, or on him?

The air feels stuffy. His pulse is rushing in his ears. He knows what this is. God, please not here. Please don’t have a panic attack here, not in front of all these people.

“Hey, you okay?” Hen’s voice breaks through the fog in his mind and Eddie blinks to find he’s back in his chair, water glass in hand, and he has no memory of picking it up.

“Y-yeah,” He tugs at the collar of his shirt, the skin beneath clammy with sweat, and he catches Buck’s concerned look from across the table. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

“It certainly is something,” Hen agrees. She drags the water jug over and tops up his glass, shaking it to ensure a few cubes of ice fall in. He smiles in thanks and drains the glass. The cold water helps a little, his heart rate steadily settles and he no longer feels like he’s about to pass out.

The speeches are wrapped up, the emcee informing everyone that there are just twenty minutes of bidding time left, and a flurry of people head for the table to write down their bids. Eddie desperately hopes that the silent auction remains silent and that the winners won’t be publicly announced. He doubts his psyche will survive that.

With the formal part of the evening over the party gets underway, the waitstaff seamlessly clearing the tables of the remains of the meal as the music cranks up. Eddie excuses himself to the restroom, relieved to find that the venue is swanky to the point that it has fully enclosed stalls with their own sinks, allowing him to get the last of his meltdown out of his system without an audience.

He splashes some water on his face, making sure not to get any on his jacket, and takes a minute to sit on the closed toilet seat to focus on the deep breathing exercises Dr. Frank is always nagging him to do.

Annoyingly, it helps, although he’ll never admit that to his therapist, and he loses track of how long he sits there. By the time he makes it back to the ballroom, the dance floor is full of moving bodies. He catches a glimpse of Chim spinning Maddie around and the man looks happier than Eddie’s ever seen him.

Definitely a Buckley thing, then.

There’s a little bubble of jealousy that Eddie can’t take his own Buckley for a spin on the dance floor and then hold him close the way Chim is holding Maddie right now, but if only one of them gets to find that special someone he’s glad it’s Chim.

“You missed the announcement,” Eddie starts at Taylor's sudden appearance next to him, his heat up ticking slightly. “The auction’s over. The final total raised for the foundation is just over a million.”

Damn.

“That’s—that’s great,” And it is. It’s an insane amount of money to be raised in one evening by one room of people, and it’ll go so incredibly far and to so many wonderful things. Eddie can’t begrudge that at all.

“One hundred thousand of that is down to you,” Taylor continues and Eddie’s convinced he mishears her over the volume of the music until she reiterates. “Well, one hundred thousand and one dollar.”

There’s a glint in Taylor’s eye that Eddie isn’t entirely comfortable with. “Who, uh, who was the lucky winner?” He asks, nervously scanning the room for Virginia, half expecting to see her lying in wait for him.

Taylor looks at him for a moment, head tilted slightly in that why she does that makes her look like she’s studying him, trying to read what he’s thinking. “I’ll take you to them.”

The gender-neutral term does nothing to soothe Eddie’s nerves but he scurries after her when she turns and walks away, not checking to see if he’s following. She leads him across the ballroom, past the auction table, and out through a side door into a service corridor. Waiters and hotel staff scurry past him carrying piles of fresh laundered linen or trays of used dishes, and it reminds Eddie of those mob films where the illegal dealing are operated out of venues that are paid to look in the other direction.

He's about to turn back, even being accosted by Virginia Astor in the ballroom feels like it might be a safer option right now, when Taylor stops outside a nondescript door. She gives him that look again, her eyes boring into his very soul, and sucks in a breath over her teeth before pushing the door open.

Buck looks up from where he’s perched on the desk shoved against the back wall, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

It’s not what Eddie was expecting at all but he has a feeling he should’ve.

“Don’t break his heart,” Taylor says, speaking only loud enough for Eddie to hear. “Or I’ll break your legs.” She gives his shoulder a surprisingly strong shove and closes the door behind him when Eddie stumbles through it.

Neither of them says a word, as though each is waiting for the other to make the first move. Buck looks almost guilty, only meeting Eddie’s eye for a second at a time before looking away.

Eddie finally gives in and pulls at his tie, loosening the knot enough to undo the top button of his shirt, done with trying to look put together any longer. It’s a little easier to breathe, whether just psychosomatic or not it helps.

A thought occurs to him which bubbles out in a small chuckle.

“What?” Buck asks uncertainly.

“Just feeling very Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman,” The joke doesn’t land. Instead, Buck’s face morphs into one of horror.

“T-that’s not—that’s not what this is,” He shakes his head looking desperate. “I didn’t…buy you.”

“Except you kind of did,” Eddie points out, not unkindly. “You don’t have to spend a hundred grand to spend time with me.”

Buck sighs. “I promise there’s no obligation here, Eddie. Not…we don’t have to do the date. We don’t have to do anything. I just…”

“You just, what?”

“I got to the list at the last second and Virginia had the highest bid. I couldn’t let that happen,” He shrugs. “So I put down the extra dollar.”

Eddie takes a second to process the fact that Buck was willing to pay over one hundred thousand dollars to keep him safe from Virginia’s clutches but isn’t going to hold him to the date.

“So, if you can’t have me then no one can?”

Buck arches a speculative eyebrow at him. “Would you rather take Virginia on a date?” Eddie returns the look, waiting for Buck to give him a proper answer. It doesn’t take long. “Fine, yes. I didn’t want anyone else to have you.”

“Buck—”

“No, look, I know what you’re going to say,” Buck finally stands from his perch, pulling his hands from his pockets and reaching for Eddie as soon as he’s close enough. His long fingers wrap around Eddie’s elbows, thumbs stroking over the insides. “You’re going to say that we agreed to be friends, that you don’t want to be with me if we can’t be real and public, and I get it, okay? I do, but—”

“But, what, Buck? We’ve talked about this, I can’t—”

“Can’t let yourself be happy?” Buck’s grip turns a little tighter, not hurting but firm enough to give him a little shake, as though he can make him see sense with the action. “Because we could be, Eddie. I’ve never…I’ve never felt like this. About anyone. I can’t get you out of my head and I know you feel the same way. A-at least, I hope you do.”

Eddie lifts his hands and goes to press them against Buck’s chest meaning to push him away, but it’s like his body isn’t listening to his brain and he ends up clutching at the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. Their foreheads bump together, the impact not even registering because his lips are on Buck’s and everything else ceases to exist.

Buck lets out a small, surprised noise before he quickly gets with the program, kissing Eddie back with just as much enthusiasm, and Eddie doesn’t realize they’re moving until his back connects with the wall and all six foot of Buck presses him firmly against it.

It’s a raw, heated battle for dominance, each of them pulling at whatever part of the other they can reach and there’s no way their suits aren’t going to be completely ruined if they don’t stop now. But Eddie doesn’t want to, he wants all of Buck and more.

“Come home with me,” Buck pants into his skin as he kisses his way down Eddie’s chin to his neck, sucking on a patch just beneath his ear that almost has his knees buckling.

Could they be happy? Would Eddie be satisfied with a relationship lived only in secret while he watches Buck take a different woman to every event he’s invited to? Would Buck only loving him behind closed doors be enough for him?

He can’t. He has to stop this. He has to say no.

“Yes.”

“Do you ever think about how different your life would be if you’d gone down a different path?” Eddie looks up from where his fingers have been lazily drawing tracing the line of his Adonis belt. The sheets are pooled low over his hips while Buck lays unashamedly bare, and Buck’s fingers have been stroking through his hair for the best part of the last hour.

It’s late, or early going by the dawn light starting to filter into Buck’s bedroom. It hadn’t been a simple case of the two of them just leaving the gala together, not with the press still camped outside in the hopes of catching a few photos of drunken celebs behaving badly.

Buck had text Taylor, much to Eddie’s annoyance, and asked for her help to get them out. She and Buck had left by the main doors, posing for a few photos before jumping into Buck’s limousine and meeting Eddie around the corner.

It had felt incredibly sordid, but also a little thrilling, waiting under the cover of darkness at the back of the building to swap places with Taylor, climbing into the back of the limo to carry on from where they had left off. Taylor had smirked at him knowingly as he slunk past her but once inside and back in Buck’s arms Eddie hadn’t given her a second thought.

It had taken every ounce of self-restraint not to start stripping Buck of his clothes, despite the fact the driver had closed the privacy partition, Eddie was determined to wait until he could take Buck apart properly.

As it was he didn’t get a chance, as soon as Buck’s front door was closed behind them the man had him pressed against it and was dropping to his knees, scrabbling to undo Eddie’s belt. Buck hadn’t wasted any time, wrapping his lips around Eddie’s cock and bringing him to the fastest orgasm of his life.

Eddie would have felt more embarrassed about coming faster than he had since he was a teenager, but Buck hadn’t seemed to care. If anything it had seemed to spur him on more, tugging Eddie through to his bedroom and stripping them both down completely.

Eddie had taken the lead then, laying Buck out on the bed, kissing and laving his tongue over every inch of his body until he was writhing and desperate, begging for Eddie to touch him where he really wanted him to. Already close again, and knowing neither of them would last much longer, Eddie had draped himself over Buck pressing their lengths together and rutting against him until they came within seconds of each other.

“What do you mean?”

Buck looks down at him, continuing the ministrations against his scalp. “Like, if you’d made different decisions, hadn’t joined the army, do you think you’d still have ended up being a firefighter?”

Eddie props his chin on Buck’s stomach, mulling the question over. “I don’t know, I mean I only signed up because Shannon and I got pregnant so young, if we hadn’t I probably would have ended up going to work for my pops, and maybe our relationship wouldn’t have imploded the way it did.”

“Do you regret signing up?” Buck asks him softly, cautiously.

“Sometimes,” He admits. “The things I saw, the things I had to do, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“You never talk about it, I mean, you’ve talked a little about the helicopter, but you’ve never talked about what you did over there.” Buck’s hand drifts down to his face, fingers caressing feather-light over Eddie’s cheekbone and he leans into the touch, feeling wholly undeserving of it.

“I killed people, Buck, not really something I want to talk about.” He half expects Buck to pull away at the revelation, yes, Eddie was a medic, but he was still combat trained, was still taught to fire a weapon, and did on multiple occasions. Instead, Buck’s hand turns to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” He means it, the look of sorrow on his face so intense that Eddie has to look away, distancing himself from it by pressing a kiss to the inside of Buck’s wrist.

“If I hadn’t gotten Shannon pregnant then I wouldn’t have Chris,” Eddie continues, his lips brushing against Buck’s skin as he speaks. “And that kid is the best thing that ever happened to me. I regret some of the decisions I made in my life but I could never regret him, not for a second.”

“He is an awesome kid, definitely cooler than you,” Eddie can hear the tease to Buck’s words, and when he looks back up he finds a smirk plastered across the man’s face.

“I can’t argue with that,” Eddie chuckles, then remembers Buck’s original questions. “Do you? Have regrets?” Buck doesn’t answer straight away, then thumb stroking Eddie’s cheek stills and his gaze drifts off somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder.

“I have a lot,” He says eventually, nodding a little to himself. “I regret not being able to save my brother. I regret not knowing about him earlier. I regret constantly fighting for my parents' love and approval.”

As Eddie watches them Buck’s eyes grow a little wet and misty, not to the point of tears but enough to see the raw emotion there. He ducks his head and peppers a few kisses to the crease of Buck’s hip, tasting the remnants of sweat and musk that hadn’t been wiped away in their lazy cleanup earlier.

“I regret not being able to help Maddie when she really needed it. I regret sleeping my way into a career. I regret not being brave enough to just be myself.”

“You’re plenty brave, Buck. Just you being here proves that,” Buck just shrugs a shoulder in response. “What happened to Maddie?” Eddie asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knows there’s something about a dead husband, he’d seen an article that had popped up after the press broke the story about Daniel. Buck had touched on it briefly but hadn’t gone into any sort of detail.

Buck shifts a little on the mattress, sliding an arm between his head and the pillow to raise himself a little. “Doug. Doug happened. They met in high school and Maddie fell for him pretty quick. My parents never liked the guy and I didn’t either, pretty much the only thing we ever had in common. He was always calling her, asking where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing, like he wanted to keep tabs on her at all times. I was that much younger than Maddie at the time that I didn’t really get it, I just thought it was weird.”

“He was abusive,” Eddie surmises, able to see where the story is going.

“Mm,” Buck nods. “He got into medical school in Boston and she followed him there, qualified as an ER nurse. I think that’s when it started. He isolated her, I barely heard from her after they moved away and when she did come back to visit it would only be a day before she would say she had to get back to him. They eventually moved back to Hershey but she always kept me at an arm’s length. Now I know that it was to protect me but at the time…”

At the time Buck was living in the shadow of a dead child whose existence he had no clue about, desperate for understanding and affection. “You felt like she didn’t care.”

“Yeah. I’ll always regret—” Buck's voice cracks and he sniffs back the tears that have finally started to gather. “I’ll always regret that I didn’t see what he was doing to her. I’d go visit her at the hospital on her lunch breaks and there were times when she’d have these injuries, she’d say she caught it on a gurney or they had a difficult patient and I never questioned it.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Buck, she kept it from you for a reason. She didn’t want you to know.”

“But I should have,” Buck snaps, his anger directed at himself rather than Eddie. “She’s my sister, hell, she was practically my mother. I should have seen it. I should have gotten her out rather than leaving her to kill her husband in self-defense!”

Jesus. Eddie may have taken lives in the name of war, but he can’t begin to imagine killing the person he once loved to save his own life. Some things that Chim has referenced now make more sense, past trauma, skittish behavior, and making the mistake once of approaching her from behind.

He doesn’t know Maddie as well as he knows Buck, as well as Chimney knows her, and all he’s ever seen is a strong and confident woman who is pleasant to everyone and cares a great deal about her brother. It’s a perfect example of how someone can be smiling on the outside but be suffering on the inside.

“But she survived,” Eddie affirms, stroking his fingers over Buck’s hip. “She got out and she survived.”

“Barely. She was only just holding on when I found her, two stab wounds and covered in bruises. If Doug hadn’t already been dead I would have killed him myself.”

It’s clear that Buck harbors a tremendous amount of guilt over his sister’s trauma, whether he should or not is another issue entirely. Buck was so young when his sister met her future husband, between just being a kid and dealing with his parents no one in their right mind could, or would, hold him accountable for another man’s violent actions.

“Does Maddie hold it against you?” He asks gently, lifting onto one elbow to better fix Buck with a pointed look.

Buck blinks. “What?”

“Does Maddie hold it against you? That you didn’t know. That you didn’t stop Doug.”

“Of course not,” He pulls a face at the notion as though it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“Then you shouldn’t either.”

“It’s not that simple,” Buck shakes his head, dislodging a tear. Eddie tracks its path down Buck’s cheek and lifts his hand from the man’s hip to wipe it away.

“Then I forgive you,” Buck’s eyes slip closed, sending more tears in the wake of the first and Eddie erases those, too. “I forgive you on Maddie’s behalf, on the universe’s behalf. You’re forgiven, Buck.”

Maybe it’s the salvation he needs, maybe he needs to hear it from Maddie herself and this is just a start, but Buck’s whole body sags as though years of tension have suddenly been released.

“Thank you,” He trembles as he says it, laying his hand over Eddie’s still on his cheek thumbing away tears but he gives a small wet chuckle. “Why are you so nice?”

“I can’t help being awesome,” Eddie says playfully, giving a nonchalant flick of his head.

“Chris is still cooler,” Buck quips and Eddie slips his hand free to pinch at Buck’s side, groaning when the man jumps and knees him in the ribs in the process. “Hey!”

Eddie pouts impishly, leaning in to kiss the abused patch of skin using his tongue far more than is necessary. Buck’s cock, which has been lying soft and spent against the inside of one thigh, twitches, bumping against Eddie’s sternum.

“I’ll tell you one regret I have,” Eddie blows over the wetness he left behind, watching as gooseflesh breaks out over his skin, following the path with his fingers. “Maybe you can help me fix it.”

“W-what is it?” Buck gasps, cock twitching again as it starts to fill.

“I’ve never sucked a cock before.”

“What?!” Buck’s head shoots up from the pillow and he gapes down at Eddie.

“But…you’re gay!”

“Who was married to a woman for eight years and dating her for two years before that.”

Buck sits up, dislodging Eddie from his lap. “Am I…Eddie, am I the first guy you’ve been with?” He asks slowly.

Eddie huffs out a long breath, this was not how he intended Buck to find that particular fact out. “Shannon and I started dating in senior year, we met in the eighth grade but didn’t really connect until twelfth. Before her, I dated this girl called Ashley for a few weeks, but in between them there was Emilio.”

“And you and Emilio, did you…”

“There were a few kisses and a couple of over-the-pants fumbles under the bleachers, but, no, I’ve never been with a guy. Not until tonight.”

Buck ducks his head, lifting a hand to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “If I’d have known it was your first time I would have made it more special.”

“I’m not some blushing virgin, Buck, Shannon had the honor of taking that.”

“What about after she left?”

“We were still married,” Eddie shrugs. “And I always thought she would come back.”

“And after she died? Has there been anyone since then?” Eddie’s face must give Buck the answer he needs. “Wow.”

“What, wow?” Eddie asks, unable to stop the slightly defensive tone from slipping out.

“No, not wow,” Buck’s eyes fly wide as he reaches for Eddie apologetically. “Just wow, that’s kind of…refreshing,”

“Refreshing?” He laughs. “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah, well, in this day and age, it’s kind of unheard of, right? I mean,” Buck gestures to himself. “You know about my long list of hookups.” Eddie’s not sure he would call casting couch coercion as a hook-up, but any time he’s tried to bring it up since Buck had dropped that bomb the conversation goes nowhere, Buck refusing to talk about it anymore.

“There was one of Christopher’s old teachers, but we never made it past a few coffee dates. Shannon’s only been gone for a little under two years and she was my first great love. It’s hard to move on from that.”

Buck nods, looking far more solemn than he had just moments ago. “Yeah, I get that.”

He remembers something Buck said months back when he took him home to meet Christopher for the first time. “You said you knew what it was like to be walked out on, what did you mean by that?”

“Aby. I guess you could say she was my first great love. She was older than me, by quite a bit, but for a while, I thought she was the one. But she left, after her mom died she went traveling. I told her I’d wait for her but…”

“She never came back.”

“Mm, so I know what it’s like to be left and not know what’s happening. It sucks.”

“It does,” Eddie can’t stand the sad look on Buck’s face any longer. He lays a hand on the man’s chest, pressing him back down to the mattress and moving to hover over him. Maybe it’s a bad move, poorly timed and unhealthy, but something tells Eddie they need this, that connection of skin on skin with no barriers, no walls. Just two lost souls who may have finally found each other.

“S-smooth,” Buck sucks in a breath when Eddie’s hand wraps around him, his cock having softened quickly begins to firm as Eddie works it over.

It feels odd. The angle, not the fact that he’s touching another man’s cock, that part feels so right to him, like he should have been doing it all along. It’s not dissimilar to touching his own, the flesh warm and velvety, and there’s something extremely gratifying about the little shiver Buck gives when Eddie swipes his thumb through the wetness at the slit.

Christ, he’s barely started and Buck’s already leaking, his hips canting up so that his cock moves a little faster through the tight circle of Eddie’s fist.

“Eddie,” Buck breathes, gazing down at him with heavy eyes and reaching to tangle his fingers back into Eddie’s hair.

“Any tips?” He asks softly, darting his tongue out to get his first taste of the pooling precome, instantly wanting more and earning a soft groan from Buck when he wraps his lips around the head a sucks.

“J-just, uh, watch your teeth,” Buck says, hand tightening in his hair and tugging at the roots in a way that sends a spike of arousal shooting down his spine. Eddie hums in response, unwilling to lose the weight of Buck's cock, and pushes down taking more into his mouth.

He takes it slow, caressing the underside with his tongue on every downward pass and hollowing his cheeks on the way back up. Above him Buck moans and gasps, fingers alternating between pulling and petting at his hair and it only serves to urge Eddie on, encouraging him to speed up, stroking his hand over what he can’t reach.

Buck is big, taller than Eddie by a couple of inches and broader across the chest, and his cock follows the trend, longer and slightly thicker than Eddie’s. It gives his jaw a pleasant ache that Eddie knows is quickly going to become addictive.

“Fuck,” Buck hisses when Eddie pulls off with a pop, dipping his tongue into the slit and lapping up the precome that continues to drip. “Feels so good.”

“Do you always get this wet?” Eddie asks, hearing the awe in his own voice. He doesn’t have much to compare to but he certainly doesn’t leak as much as Buck seems to.

“Y-yeah,” His hips twitch and jerk with every pass of Eddie’s tongue, cock sliding over his lips and jaw leaving a mess in its wake. “I, um, I used to have this nickname, a make-up girl I slept with let it slip to her friends a-and now they all call me it.”

Eddie squeezes Buck’s cock firmly, slapping the head against his lips. “What was it.”

“Don’t laugh,” Buck tells him, piquing Eddie’s interest. “Firehose.”

Eddie absolutely breaks, snorting through his nose in the most undignified manner as Buck rolls his eyes at him. He laughs so hard that breathing becomes a problem and he hides his face against Buck’s thigh as he tries to regain control of his senses.

“I said don’t laugh!” Eddie doesn’t have to look at Buck to hear the pout in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eddie wheezes. “It’s just, it’s pretty on-brand considering your current role.” Buck’s gaze turns from exasperated to playful as he slots a hand over Eddie’s holding his cock, urging it to resume its slow and languid stroking.

“Should be no problem for you, then,” He winks, the action really doing something for Eddie. “Seeing as how you’re such a pro at handling hoses.”

Eddie pushes at Buck’s thighs, slotting himself between them and dipping his head to run his tongue up the length of Buck’s cock from base to tip, keeping eye contact the entire way.

“Oh, I’m very capable.”

“There’s something different about you.”

Eddie fumbles with the Halligan he’s stowing, glancing at Hen in feigned ignorance of her meaning. The woman is uncannily perceptive, able to read pretty much anyone whether she knows them or not, and in years of working by her side he’s rarely been able to escape her scrutiny.

“Not sure what you mean,” He says, finally getting the tool clipped into place in the engine compartment, closing the door, and ensuring it’s locked. “I’m the same as I’ve ever been.”

Hen squints at him, considering, and leans against the side of the truck, arms folded across her chest. The clean-up is mostly done which means there’s nothing Eddie can excuse himself to do while they wait for Bobby to do the handover to the arson investigators.

“You left the gala pretty early the other night, disappeared after the speeches leaving me and Bobby to take the limo home on our own,” She continues, following Eddie to the cab as he strips off his gloves and helmet, tossing them up into his seat so he has a reason to avoid looking at her. “Come to think of it, so did Buck?”

“Did he?” He tries to keep his voice normal, never having been very good at lying. “Wasn’t really my scene.” At least that part isn’t a lie.

He shrugs off his bunker coat, feeling a little cooler in the ninety-degree heat with one less layer. Dumping it on the floor of the cab he turns back to find hen smirking at him.

“You two had sex.”

Eddie chokes on his own saliva. “W-what?” Before he can deny the accusation any further another voice joins the mix.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that?” Chimney hisses as he rounds the front of the engine, glancing between Hen and Eddie.

“What?” Eddie says again, thoroughly confused.

“What?” Chim parrots unhelpfully, and then the comment about the limo dawns on Eddie.

“Wait, you had sex with Maddie?”

“You had sex with Buck?” Chimney gapes, clearly coming to the same conclusion.

Hen whistles around a chuckle. “Damn, those Buckley siblings must really be something special.”

Chapter Text

“And then Miss Greene said she liked my story so much that she wants to put it in the school paper!” Chris practically yells, gesticulating with so much excitement that his cereal bowl goes flying. Buck scrambles to catch the bowl, attempting to limit the amount of milk that gets spilled, and just manages to snag it before it drops over the lip of the table. “Oops, sorry.” Chris winces.

“It’s okay, buddy, you were just excited,” Eddie tells him, grabbing some paper towels and mopping up the puddle of milk and spilled cereal.

“Yeah, no need to cry over spilled milk,” Buck laughs at his own joke, his big dopey grin faltering when Chris just blinks at him, not getting the punchline. “Oh, come on, that was funny.”

“Was it?” Christopher deadpans. Buck lays a hand over his heart and puts on an overacted sad face.

“You wound me, Chris.”

Eddie leaves them to their banter while he cleans up the rest of the mess, the devoted attention Buck is giving his son making his heart sing. He always listens to whatever Christopher tells him with rapt attention, hanging off every word even when the kid trips over them and tells his stories out of sequence. Buck never gets frustrated or looks like he’s had enough of Chris’ attention, always happy to build ‘just one more’ Lego sculpture or play ‘one last round’ of Mario Kart.

They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, he and Buck as well as the three of them together, and it’s clear that Christopher is enamored with the man and not just because Buck played his favorite superhero. Buck has time for him.

Buck’s schedule has been pretty full on, runs of sixteen-hour filming days, with sessions with his personal trainer and various press appearances sandwiched between. It’s left Eddie wondering when Buck finds time to eat or sleep, he either has limitless energy or survives on an unhealthy amount of caffeine.

“Are you excited for next week?” Buck asks as Eddie clears the last of the cereal, pushing Christopher’s bowl back toward him as a prompt to finish his breakfast.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” He shrugs, leaning down to steal a bite of Buck’s toast as he lifts it to his mouth. Christopher hadn’t questioned why Buck was already at his house when he woke up that morning, it’s not the first time he’s joined them for breakfast. In the three weeks since the gala, he’s stayed over as often as he can as long as he’s not on a night shoot and Eddie isn’t working.

It's been nice. Really nice, in fact, snuggling under the covers with someone again. Eddie’s never been a touchy-feely type of person, not even with Shannon. He enjoyed it when they did touch, whether it was with or without clothes, but he’s never really needed that physical contact as much as some people do. As much as Buck seems to. But he hadn’t quite realized just how much he missed the feeling of skin on skin, the opportunity to explore another body with his fingers, his lips, or his tongue.

He's making up for it now. He doubts there’s an inch of Buck’s skin he hasn’t discovered, inside or out, and it’s been a fucking revelation, serving only to further cement his attraction to men.

Eddie loved Shannon, and probably always will, but he really, really loves cock. Specifically, Buck’s.

In a way it’s felt like discovering sex all over again, this being his first actual same-sex relationship means that he’s had to learn how to give pleasure all over again. The bonus of working with body parts that are the same as his own is that he already knows what he enjoys so has been using that as a jumping-off point. But there are certain aspects to having sex, especially with another man, that have been extremely new to Eddie and have made him a little apprehensive.

He and Shannon had never explored anal penetration, for either of them, and any oral sex he had given her had been limited to some standard cunnilingus and never progressing further back for some rimming.

The first time Buck had gotten him face down and ass up on the bed, spread his cheeks and licked a long, wet strip of his tongue over Eddie’s hole he briefly considered going back to church. Because anyone whose tongue could make Eddie feel like that must have been fucking sent from Heaven.

“You guess? Come on, Chim’s excited?” Buck holds out the last bite of his toast, Eddie taking it straight from his fingers as he finishes packing the last of Christopher’s lunch. Buck returns his fingers to his mouth, licking off the remains of the butter and honey he had liberally spread on it.

“Yeah, well, Chim’s a glory hound, he loves the attention.”

“He’s not that bad,” Buck argues. Eddie knows he’s been spending a bit more time with the man now that Chim and Maddie are apparently a thing. Buck likes him, says he’s everything Doug wasn’t and he’s seen how wonderfully Chim treats her. “He just likes to be…involved.”

That’s one way of putting it, Eddie thinks. “Okay, he’s not as bad as he used to be,” He concedes, thinking back to the Chimney who used to make up stories to impress his girlfriends. “But he’s a big film buff so next week will be right up his alley.”

“What’s next week?” Chris asks, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Your dad is coming to work with me,” Buck whispers conspiratorially. “Bobby, Hen, and Chim, too.”

Christopher’s head tips to the side, a confused crinkle appearing between his brows. “But they’re already firefighters, why are they going to your work? Do you need help?”

“In more ways than one,” Eddie mutters with a chuckle, flicking Buck with the dishcloth when he pinches Eddie’s hip in retaliation. “Remember we talked about this, buddy? Buck’s just pretending to be a firefighter for his new movie, just like he was only pretending to be Captain Chaos.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s cool. Can I come?” He asks Buck.

“You’ll be in school, mijo,” Eddie says, catching the disappointment on his son’s face.

“Hey, I’m sure we can find another day when you can come visit,” Buck promises, holding out a hand for Chris to high-five. Chris beams and wiggles on his chair.

Buck had stopped by the station for lunch the week before and pitched the idea of getting some studio passes for them to visit the set. The conversation had quickly snowballed into Chim asking if there was any chance they could sneak into the background of a shot, and while Buck had made no promises, he had called Eddie the next day to say that they could all be extras for a day if they wanted.

Naturally, Chim had been the first to give an ecstatic yes, Hen accepting, too, and even Bobby was pretty excited about the prospect, insisting it was more from a captain’s point of view to ensure any firefighting protocol was accurate.

Knowing he couldn’t get away with saying no Eddie had accepted the offer, too. He missed having Buck with them at the 118, and he especially missed getting to see him in the LAFD uniform, so a visit to the set would at least offer him a chance to see that again before the movie was released.

“Alright, we gotta leave now if we’re going to make it to school on time,” Eddie announces, checking his watch. “Say goodbye to Buck.” Chris clambered down from his chair and paused by Buck’s for a hug before shuffling out of the kitchen to fetch his school bag.

“You’re still coming over tonight, right?” Buck checks, standing to take his plate to the sink.

“Of course,” Eddie assures him. He’s been looking forward to tonight all week. Eddie loves his son, but the prospect of a child-free night, a meal cooked by a private chef, and a skinny dip in Buck’s pool has had him extremely excited.

This thing between them, that they’ve yet to still define, is quite possibly the best thing that’s happened to Eddie in a long time, if ever, but it’s not without its challenges. If he’s being honest he doesn’t like the sneaking around, acting normal on the rare occasions they’ve been out in public together, swearing Hen and Chimney to secrecy. But he knew by going home with Buck after the gala that that’s what he was signing up for.

He wants to take Buck out on a real date, maybe to dinner and a movie, or for a walk around the lake while they hold hands and sneak kisses pressed against the trunk of a tree.

But he can’t. That’s not how this is going to work. Buck was right though, he’s happier than he’s been in a long time.

“Pepa’s taking Chris tonight, she’ll pick him up from school so I don’t need to make a detour when I get off at six.”

“And what time can I get you off?” Buck smirks, crowding Eddie against the kitchen counter, his hands resting on the surface either side of Eddie’s hips, boxing him in.

“You’re a menace.”

Buck leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I just can’t help myself around you.” As if to emphasize his words Buck grabs a handful of Eddie’s ass, squeezing the flesh firmly.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, cowboy,” Eddie gives him a playful shove, escaping from his hold. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bet your ass you will,” Buck winks.

“I just need you all to sign the bottom of page three, and then they’ll get you into hair and make-up, followed by costume,” Maddie hands a pen to each of them, waiting for their signatures on the paperwork and taking it from them when they’re done. “Welcome to your first day as an extra. Behave.” She adds pointedly at Chimney.

“Why just me?” He asks indignantly, looking to the other for support.

“Man, she really has you sussed,” Hen drawls as Maddie heads off with the completed insurance forms, disappearing into one of the many large buildings surrounding them. Soundstages, Eddie remembers her calling them during their brief tour when they’d first arrived. He feels a little overwhelmed with the enormity of it all, a city within a city complete with fake streets, businesses and houses, and lines of golf carts stationed everywhere for easy transport between them.

They haven’t seen Buck yet, he’s been on set since four that morning but he’d briefly woken Eddie for a sleepy kiss before he snuck out. The man has been talking about little else for the past few days, excited to give them an insider's view of his world and what goes on in it.

“Rude, but true,” Chim concedes, although he doesn’t look particularly bothered by the callout. “Now, any of you guys seen craft services? I was promised an epic breakfast spread.”

“Remember what your girlfriend said when it comes to craft service etiquette,” Hen reminds him, staring him down over the rim of her glasses. “Actors go first.”

Chim looks indignant. “I am an actor.”

“Looks like that breakfast is going to have to wait,” Bobby nods to the trailers behind them where a woman stands at the top of the steps waving them over. “Looks like they’re ready for us.”

Eddie hangs back letting the others go ahead of him, not overly keen for his face to be covered in powder again after shooting the behind-the-scenes interview with Buck all those months ago. The stuff had itched and left stains on his uniform.

There are four stations in the trailer, Hen, Chim and Bobby settling into three of them leaving Eddie hanging in the doorway to wait for the actor already in the fourth to be finished. Eddie doesn’t recognize him, but that’s not really saying much.

“So, I was thinking we could go for a cross between Liam Hemsworth and Sam Claflin,” Chim starts the second his ass is in the chair, raking his fingers through his hair as he tilts his head from side to side in the mirror. “A little tousled and ruggish but still put together. Like a man in control.” He doesn’t seem to catch the amused eye roll the stylist gives him, clearly no stranger to extras getting a little carried away.

A tap of fingers against his palm pulls his attention and he turns to find Buck on the bottom step squinting up at him in the sunlight.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Buck jerks his head, tangling a couple of fingers around his and pulling tugging him down the steps. Eddie follows him around the back of the make-up trailer where there’s a slight gap between it and a tall cinderblock wall. It puts them out of sight of any passersby and Eddie quickly realizes that was Buck’s intention when he finds himself pressed up against the brick.

He's kissed deeply, languidly, passionately, as Buck slides a hand under the hem of his t-shirt to rest it against his ribs.

“Been wanting to do that since I left you in bed this morning,” He murmurs against Eddie’s lips before diving back in to kiss him again, this time with a little more force. “I missed you.”

“It’s barely been six hours,” Eddie chuckles, finally able to draw a breath when Buck moves to nibble at his neck. “Don’t leave a mark, I don’t want Bobby to overhear that I need a hickey covered up.”

His captain doesn’t know about them, at least he doesn’t think Chimney has spilled the beans yet, he’s not known for being the best secret keeper but as he’s currently so wrapped up in his own brand new romance Eddie thinks they’re safe for a little longer.

It’s not that he thinks Bobby will disapprove, he’s mentioned several times how he thinks Buck is a good kid, how he’d make a great firefighter in real life, and has been teaching him a few tricks in the kitchen whenever Buck has stopped by to visit them when they’re on shift. But Buck had panicked a little when Eddie had told him that Hen had sussed it out and begged him not to say anything to anyone else.

As much as Eddie wishes they could be more public he won’t go behind Buck’s back.

“Ugh, I guess you’re right,” Eddie feels Buck pout against his neck, leaving one last kiss before straightening up. “You better get back before they miss you. See you on set.”

Buck slips out from their hiding spot after checking the coast is clear and Eddie counts to twenty before following, but Buck has already disappeared by the time he’s stepping back up into the make-up trailer.

The fourth station is empty, the stylist waving him over and Eddie grumbles a request for as little make-up as possible, citing an excuse about sensitive skin. As it turns out, their make-up consists only of some fake soot, smudged over their faces and making them look as though they’ve just stepped out of a three-alarm fire. Although, it amazes him how it takes almost thirty minutes to complete the look when it takes just seconds of smoke exposure on a call.

After, they’re bundled towards a couple of trailers to change into their costumes, Hen and Chim in one and Eddie and Bobby in the other, and their costumes turn out to be the exact same as the ones they wear every day on shift, the only difference being the names on the back.

After that, it’s a quick ride on a golf cart to where they’ll be filming, a very realistic-looking townhouse burnt out and half raised to the ground coming into view. On the street stands a gleaming red engine with a huge hubbub of activity as the crew set about getting everything ready for the scene.

It’s pretty surreal, seeing the mess of hoses laid out, tools and equipment in the trucks ready for use but no actual emergency.

“Oh my god, the chairs,” Chim hisses, pointing to one side where a line of director-style chairs are set up under an awning, the actor's names emblazoned on the backrest. Buck’s sits in the middle, a water bottle and script on the empty seat. “You think Buck will let me sit in his?”

“Perhaps, if you ask nicely,” Bobby tells him, sounding distracted. When Eddie looks he finds the man watching the props department handing out axes and Halligans. “Uh, excuse me, that’s not how you do it.” He calls to one man in particular, striding over and taking the tool out of his hands to show him the proper method.

Ever the captain.

Buck had warned Eddie there would be a lot of hanging around and he wasn’t wrong. It’s half an hour before they’re run through the scene, told where to stand, where to walk to, and where to stop. None of them have to say anything but they’re told to act natural in the background, they are the professionals after all so, if anything, they’ll be adding a touch of realism to the scene.

When Buck finally turns up, decked out in full turnout with a harness on top, Eddie has to keep a serious hold on the urge to walk straight over and kiss him in front of the whole set. The uniform looks so good on him and he’s tempted to ask Buck to bring it home one night.

He watches as Buck and a woman are hooked up to ropes and cables, a second safety harness apparently hidden under their costumes, and hoisted into the air to the rooftop of the set. Eddie’s so distracted that he misses the call for action and has to jog to catch up with others, but he keeps a subtle eye on Buck throughout the scene as he abseils down the set to the ground, the woman in his arms.

A pang of irrational jealousy surges through Eddie as Buck plays out the scene, holding the actress bridal style and lowering her onto a waiting gurney. He’s acting, that’s all. There’s nothing in it.

But then Buck flashes her that smile, the one he flashes everyone when he’s flirting, the one he flashed Eddie just a few hours ago behind the make-up trailer.

And then the director calls cut and Buck’s demeanor completely changes. The smile completely disappears and he steps back, putting a good two feet of distance between him and the woman, and turns to scan the crowd. When his eyes land on Eddie a different smile paints over his face. Soft, warm, genuine.

That. That’s the smile. That one’s just for Eddie.

They don’t get a chance to talk for another two hours or so, the shot they’ve just done repeated several more times from different angles before the director calls break for lunch. Even then, it’s another thirty minutes of photo ops and a few quick interviews to capitalize on the LAFD's special background appearance until they’re released.

Buck hangs back while they're given instructions of where to head for the afternoon’s filming, which Chim is excited to find involves an ambulance, and checks there’s no one within earshot before leaning in close with a lascivious smile. “Wanna come check out my trailer?”

With just three weeks of filming time left and the production running behind schedule, it’s safe to say Buck’s trailer has become a staple in their lives.

The cast and crew are pressing themselves to the max, trying to catch up with the scenes left to shoot and not blow the movie’s budget by extending the deadline. It means that the days on set have gotten longer, the principal cast taking to living in their trailers 24/7 to eliminate any travel time to the studios, giving them more filming hours.

Buck hasn’t slept in his own bed, or Eddie’s for that matter, in at least two weeks which has meant they’ve had to get creative in order to get any time together at all. It’s led to more sneaking around than Eddie is comfortable with, asking for too many favors from Hen, Carla, or Pepa to have Christopher overnight, waiting under the cover of darkness for Buck to sneak him past studio security through a little-used emergency entrance, and lying to everyone about where he’s going and what he’s doing.

A niggling part of his brain keeps telling him that it’s all going to blow up in his face, how, he’s not sure, but life has rarely been kind to Eddie.

But then he finds himself in Buck’s arms, held down underneath the man’s weight while he’s ridden to within an inch of his sanity, or grinding in Buck’s lap while stars of ecstasy bust burst behind his closed eyelids, and all his concerns evaporate.

It’s been an awakening that Eddie could never have anticipated and he’s certainly making up for lost time.

Sex with Shannon had always been good, probably the only stable and consistent part of their whole relationship, but she was also the only person he’d ever been intimate with and while the sex was good it was also very…regular.

Sex with Buck, on the other hand, it’s wild, passionate, and sometimes just downright filthy. The things he says, whispered low and dirty into Eddie’s ear never fail to add to his arousal, winning out over the small dashes of shame he feels at being so damn turned on by them.

The first time Eddie had fucked him Buck had moaned on repeat how good Eddie felt inside him, big and full, and when they had switched, Eddie taking a cock inside him for the first time, Buck told him how hot and tight we was, squeezing around him like a vice.

Buck is big, verging on porn star standards, and Eddie had been more than a little apprehensive about bottoming for the first time. But Buck had been so patient, stretching Eddie out at a pace that was so torturously slow that Eddie was the one begging him to go faster. He’d insisted on Eddie being on top, telling him he’d have more control over how fast he took Buck in and would be able to set whatever speed he wanted, and by the time Eddie was fully seated he could swear he felt the man’s cock in the back of his throat.

They’ve tried several more positions since then, but when it comes to taking Buck’s cock nothing beats that one, Buck gazing up at him and gripping his hips tightly as he helps Eddie bounce in his lap. The couch in Buck’s trailer is the perfect angle to have them plastered together chest to chest, Eddie’s hands fisted in his hair as he sucks a mark into Eddie’s collarbone where it’ll be hidden by his uniform.

“Fuck,” Buck hisses, nipping at the skin before moving an inch over to start a new one. “Feel so fucking good, Eddie, so tight.”

Eddie can’t get any words out of his own, he’s been on the edge ever since Buck cracked open a brand-new bottle of lube and started stretching him out on his fingers. He’s been alternating between slamming himself down hard and fast, and small little grinding motions, eyes rolling back whenever Buck’s cock brushes against his prostate, and as much as he wants to come the tease of drawing it out feels so good he wants to keep going.

“Eddie. Eddie. Fuck,” Buck pulls away from Eddie’s neck to look at him, eyes dark and heavily lidded with lust. “I don’t know how much longer I can l-last.” He trips over the word when Eddie rocks his hips forward a little, almost collapsing in on himself when a spark of pleasure shoots through his groin straight to his cock.

“You can come,” Eddie tells him, pressing his knees into the couch cushion and lifting himself up to start a new punishing pace, determined to finish with Buck having drawn it out long enough. “Come in me.”

“Fuck,” They’ve only done it a few times, mutually deciding to forgo the condoms after Buck admitted to loving the mess, both making and receiving, and they’d both gotten tested to be on the safe side. “Fuck, yeah, gonna come in you. Gonna make so much mess. God, Eddie, I love y—fuck!”

Buck’s body tenses and his hands clamp down on Eddie’s hips, nails biting into the skin as he comes. Eddie drops down hard, feeling Buck’s cock twitch and pulse inside him as a warmth spreads through his pelvis. He snakes a hand between their bodies and fists his cock, striping it fast as he grinds in circles to draw out Buck's orgasm.

It starts in his toes, curling through his body until the wave crests and he spills all over Buck’s chest, ropes of white painting the man’s skin as the orgasm crashes through every one of his nerve endings.

He falls forward against Buck, utterly spent and thanking some deity or another that the trailer is solid enough that it’s not rocking on its axles. The last thing he wants is someone banging on the door and catching them in the act, banning him from the studio and losing what little time he has with Buck.

It’s a good few minutes before he can gather enough energy to peel them apart, grimacing at the come smeared over both their chests. He doesn’t so much mind the feeling of Buck’s release dripping from him, but not when it dries on his skin.

When there’s enough distance for him to see Buck’s face clearly he finds an odd expression painted on it. He looks almost stunned, with a touch of guilt, maybe?

“You okay?” Eddie asks, breaths still a little labored.

“Me? Y-yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just peachy,” He adds when Eddie squints at him.

“You sure, you sound a little weird.”

Buck opens his mouth but what comes out Eddie has a feeling wasn’t his original intention. “Your birthday is next week, right? Anything particular you want?”

Eddie purses his lips, debating whether or not he should call him out, ultimately deciding it’s not worth spoiling what little of their evening they have left. “Who told you that?”

“I have my sources,” Buck shrugs cockily, running his palms up Eddie’s thighs, kneading the muscles as he goes. Chim probably, or Hen, both are big meddlers. “So, present?”

“I don’t need anything,” Eddie’s never been one to care about gifts, preferring quality time with friends and a few beers over anything wrapped, with the exception of anything his son has ever given him. Paintings, crayon doodles, lopsided clay sculptures that resemble a rock more than whatever they’re supposed to be, Eddie’s kept them all.

“There’s gotta be something? A nice sweater? A fancy watch? I could get you a bottle of that tequila we got trashed on?”

“Oof, no tequila,” Eddie winces, remembering the hanging the next day. “Not for a while at least. Seriously, Buck, I don’t need anything.” He leans down for a soft kiss, hoping that’s the end of the matter but Buck clearly isn’t going to let it go that easily.

“But I want to spoil you, get you something pretty,” Buck says with a purr that rumbles through his chest.

“What are you, my sugar daddy?” Eddie laughs. “We talked about this after the gala, you don’t have to buy me, I’m a sure thing.”

“I’m not trying to buy you, I just want to spoil you a little bit. You deserve to be spoiled, especially on your birthday.”

Eddie can’t help but soften at the sentiment. He drops one more kiss before he lifts himself off of Buck’s softening cock, clenching down to keep from making a mess of the couch beneath them, and heads to the small bathroom to clean up.

“Maybe we could go out somewhere?” Buck calls through to him. “Dinner and drinks or something.”

Eddie sticks his head around the doorframe, finding Buck in the same position he left him in, gloriously naked and filthy. “Did you forget we’re supposed to be hiding from the press?” Buck’s face instantly falls.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Have you, uh, have you given any more thought to that?” He asks as he steps into his underwear and tosses a damp cloth in Buck’s direction.

Buck catches it deftly and wipes at his chest and groin. “To what?”

“Coming out. Letting the world know about us,” He drops down onto the couch next to Buck, watching as the man’s face flits through a range of emotions before he lets out a heavy sigh.

“You know it’s not just me I’m protecting, I’m looking out for you, too.”

“You don’t need to protect me, Buck, I mean I haven’t come out to my parents yet but—”

“If we went public, Eddie, your whole life would change overnight, yours and Christopher’s,” He swivels to face him, taking hold of both of Eddie’s hands. “The press would find out who you are, they’d stake out your house, follow you in the supermarket, find out where Christ goes to school, they’d dig out any facts about your past they could and turn it against you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Eddie protests. “I wouldn’t care because we’d be together.”

“Well, you should, I mean you’ve seen what they’ve done to me. They’re fucking vultures—”

Eddie pulls him in for a kiss, cutting off the argument. “I know you’ve had bad experiences,” He murmurs against Buck’s lips. “And I know you’re worried about the public reaction to you coming out, but we’d be in it together, Buck. You’re worth being hounded by the press for.”

Buck melts against him, Eddie easily and readily taking his weight and for a moment he thinks he winning, that maybe Buck’s a step closer to changing his mind. But then he whispers four words into Eddie’s neck.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s heart doesn’t break, but he does feel tremendous disappointment and sadness at the revelation that maybe he’s not enough for Buck. Maybe he’s not worth fighting for.

He pulls away, picking up his scattered clothes from the floor and pulling them on, all the while avoiding looking at Buck knowing he’ll see nothing but hurt and confusion on the man’s face.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to stay?” Buck asks when Eddie reaches for his car keys.

“Not tonight, I think I need a minute.”

“I thought you understood what this was going to be, Eddie?”

“So did I,” He stops with a hand on the trailer door, braving a glance at Buck. “It’s just harder than I thought it was going to be.”

Besides the day when Buck found out about his brother, it’s the saddest he’s ever seen the man look and Eddie hates that he’s the one that’s made him that way. But that doesn’t mean he has to forget about his own feelings in all of this.

“Eddie, are you…are we…” Buck’s voice is laced with panic.

“I’m not leaving you, Buck,” Eddie promises, even though at that moment it’s exactly what he’s doing. “We’re not over. I just…”

“You just need a minute.”

Eddie nods. “We’ll talk, okay? Soon.”

He waits for Buck to acknowledge his words, getting little more than a jerk of his head, before he steps out into the night feeling like the scum of the earth.

They do talk, snatches of phone conversations as often as they can between Buck’s insane filming schedule and shift, and they manage to snag the odd lunch now and then, Eddie having to meet him at the studios on his days off. But they don’t make much progress. The conversation circles around the same points, Eddie wants to be able to go out in public, go to restaurants, take Chris to the zoo, and hold hands, and Buck wants to keep Eddie safe. Keep him a secret.

They don’t fight, it never reaches the point of yelling or even raised voices, but every time they try to make headway it ends the same way, with Buck being called back to set or Eddie running to the engine and the sound of the alarm.

By the time his birthday rolls around they haven’t made any progress. They haven’t spent the night together since Eddie walked out of the trailer, and even though he knows Bobby has invited him to the small birthday barbeque his captain had insisted on hosting, he’s not entirely sure the man is going to show.

He does though, apologizing that he can only stay for a few hours before he has to get back to set for a night shoot, but he’s welcomed in by Bobby and Athena, greeted with enthusiastic hugs from all, and finally introduced to Karen.

“Happy birthday,” Buck gives him a quick one-armed squeeze, punctuated with a firm slap on the back, so different from how they’ve taken to holding each other recently. It feels distant, like nothing intimate has happened between them at all and Eddie catches twin confused expressions from both Hen and Chim.

Eddie gestures for Buck to follow him out to the garden, away from any prying eyes or ears. “Thanks. It’s good to see you,” Eddie tells him truthfully, because it is, even if things are a little strained. “I’m glad you came.”

Buck smiles, small and a little relieved. “Me, too. I, uh, I didn’t want to make tonight awkward, but I was worried Bobby would ask too many questions if I said no,” He holds out the gift bag in his hand. “Plus, I really wanted to give you this.”

“I told you not to get me anything,” Eddie chides, taking the bag with a playful reluctance.

“Yeah, well, I decided to ignore you. I hope you like it,” He looks a little nervous, like he’s expecting Eddie to hate whatever it is he’s bought him.

Eddie sets down his beer bottle on the patio table and pulls one of two wrapped boxes from the bag, tearing at the plain blue paper to reveal an expensive-looking polished mahogany wood box. Jesus, if the box looks expensive Eddie hates to think about the price of whatever it contains. Levering it open he’s taken aback by what he finds.

Given what Buck had said the week before about spoiling him Eddie was half expecting to find some diamond-encrusted piece of bling, or maybe a thick gold chain that Eddie would thank him for but never wear.

The watch rests on a red velvet cushion and it’s like nothing Eddie has ever seen.

“It’s called The Dunkirk, after the battle,” Buck says, pointing to the engraving on the inside of the lid. “It’s inspired by the Massey Shaw which was the London Fire Brigade boat that helped evacuate the soldiers from Dunkirk in World War II.”

Eddie’s eyes lift from the watch to Buck’s face, finding an excited expression there as he explains the history and meaning behind the piece. Any doubt or worry from before has completely disappeared, replaced with untethered enthusiasm which draws a soft smile from Eddie.

“This bit here? It’s made from a melted-down part of the actual boat. And the strap is made from real firefighter turnouts that were worn in real fires by British firefighters. Which is cool, right? And the other box,” Buck points into the bag. “Has more straps in different colors, so you can change them to match whatever you’re wearing. I thought, you know, it’s a bit of military history, a-and the connection to the London Fire Brigade is…what?”

“You’re beautiful,” Eddie declares, the words coming out easier and more naturally than breathing.

A pink flush tinges Buck’s cheeks and he ducks his head in the bashful way he does whenever someone gives him a genuine compliment. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Eddie closes the box, carefully slipping it back into the gift bag before taking it from Buck's hands and setting it gently on the table, leaving Buck’s hands free to take hold of. “Buck, I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

This man, this stunningly handsome, funny, charming, and brave man who has turned Eddie’s world upside down and shown him that it’s possible to love again—

Oh.

“Buck, I—”

“Alight, let’s get this grill going,” Bobby calls, stepping out onto the patio with a platter of burger patties and hotdogs, and Buck pulls his hands from Eddie’s as though burned.

They don’t get another moment alone before Buck has to leave.

Sixteen hours later the world collapses out under Eddie’s feet.

Chapter Text

Pain.

That’s the first thing that registers.

The dust in the air is next, coating his throat and lungs with every breath and making it so hard to breathe. There’s a weight, too, solid and heavy pinning him to the ground. Every strained intake of air causes him to cough and wheeze until he feels like he’s on the verge of passing out again.

Eddie thinks he does, several times, as each time he opens his eyes it takes him a minute to remember what happened.

Then it’s the darkness, not even a sliver of light reaches him where he is, half buried under rubble on God knows what floor of the building. He’d been on the fourth when the floor had given way, he could be in the basement now for all he knew.

Finally, it’s the silence that makes itself known. Besides the occasional creak of beams or clatter of moving masonry, he can’t hear anything. No voices, no tools or machinery, just his own strangled, and labored breaths.

He feels himself fading again, his chest burning with the need for fresh oxygen and he must be out a while that time, because when he next blinks away the dust that’s settled on his lashes there’s a distant rumble of something mechanic. He can only hope that means they’re looking for him.

Screaming. Someone is screaming.

Eddie wrenches his eyes open to a blinding beam of light and looks around for the source of the cry, only to realize it’s him when a stab of pain pulses through his chest as the weight is removed.

“You with us, Eddie?”

“Ch-Chim?” When did…

“Yeah, we’re here, buddy. We’re going to get you out.”

Out. Yeah. Out sounds good.

Eddie blinks.

The rubble is gone, so is the dust. In its place is a tickling cold under his nose, and something is beeping to his left. The pain is down to a dull throb and his body feels as heavy as the debris covering him did.

They must have him on the good stuff.

“Welcome back,” Eddie lolls his head in the direction of the voice, finding Bobby, face filthy and still in his turnouts, sans jacket, in a chair next to his hospital bed. “You had us worried there for a minute.”

“What’s the damage?” His throat feels like sandpaper, his voice coming out rough and gravelly. Bobby grabs the paper cup from the wheeled table hovering over Eddie’s feet, a straw already propped inside, and holds it under his chin, helping Eddie to take a drink.

“Four broken ribs and a grade three concussion, you’ve been in and out of consciousness since we pulled you out,” Bobby tells him, taking the cup away in between sips to encourage Eddie to drink slowly.

“That’s it?” His throat feels clearer, still sore but it doesn’t feel like he’s swallowing razor blades anymore.

“Some cuts and bruises, but that’s it. You were very lucky.”

Eddie nods, taking one last sip before settling his head back onto the pillow. “How long have I been out? Is Chris—”

“He’s still at school,” Bobby reassures him, which means it can only be early afternoon. “Carla’s going to pick him up and take him to your aunt’s.”

It’s the part of the job Eddie hates, the only part, being prevented from going home to his son. It’s not the first time and he’s sure it won’t be the last, but Bobby’s right, he was very lucky this time. Things could have easily gone the other way.

“When can I go home?” He already knows it’s not going to be tonight, the pounding in his head coupled with the way two Bobbys are sitting next to him. The curtains are drawn around his bed but the sounds of the hospital beyond and the beeping of the monitors beside him are only adding to the headache.

“In a couple of days, the doctor wants to keep you in for observation. Eddie?”

“Hm?” When did he close his eyes? “Sorry, I don’t…what were you saying?”

“I called Buck,” Bobby repeats. “Thought he should know.” There’s a slight twinkle in his captain’s eye, the one that’s usually reserved for those moments when he feels he needs to meddle in order to help someone figure something out.

“Why would he—” Bobby raises his eyebrows pointedly, cutting off Eddie’s attempts at feigned ignorance.

“I might be old, Eddie, but I have eyes. Also, Chimney can’t keep a secret worth a damn,” Bobby chuckles. Of course he can’t. Eddie would roll his eyes if he didn’t think he’d vomit. “Buck’s a good man.”

A truer statement Eddie’s never heard. “Is he okay?”

“He’s waiting outside,” Bobby jerks his head in the direction of the curtain. “You can ask him yourself.”

Eddie blinks. “He’s here?”

“Mhm, he turned up just a few minutes after we got you here.” Which means Bobby must have called him from the scene after they’d pulled him out, or at the very least from the ambulance. “He’s been pretty worried about you. Want me to send him in?”

“Please.”

Bobby smiles like the cat that got the cream, thrilled that he was right in his assumptions about the two of them, and he squeezes Eddie’s arm as he stands. The second he pulls the curtain back Eddie catches sight of Buck.

He’s sat in one of the chairs stationed just across from what Eddie now recognizes to be the triage area of the emergency department. His head is tipped back against the wall, phone clutched in his hand, but the second he hears the whoosh of the curtain being opened he’s up and stumbling over his own feet as he rushes forward.

Bobby catches him with a hand on his chest, holding him steady for a second to keep him from charging at Eddie.

“He’s still a little woozy,” Eddie hears Bobby tell him, to which Buck nods. “Make sure he gets some rest.”

“Y-yeah,” Buck’s voice sounds as shaky as he looks.

“Eddie, I’ve got to get back to the station, I’ll check in on you later after shift,” Bobby nods goodbye to them both and heads out, leaving Buck trembling where he stands.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly, trying to lift a hand from the bed to reach for him. The movement prompts an agonizing wave of fire to burn through his ribs and a cry of pain slips out before he can stop it.

Buck is by his side in a flash, catching Eddie’s hand before it can drop to the mattress and jar his injuries any further, and he keeps hold of it, laying his other hand on top. He cradles Eddie’s hand as though it’s fragile, precious, fingers stroking over the scrapes and bruises that litter the skin. He drops into the chair that Bobby had dragged over, scooting it as close to the bed as he can.

When the worst of the pain has passed and Eddie can take in enough air that the world is no longer spinning, he takes a moment to blink through the haze of lingering hurt and take a proper look at Buck. He’s probably only known about Eddie being hurt for an hour, maybe two, but the man looks like he’s lived days’ worth of agony in that short amount of time. His eyes are red and bloodshot, the skin around them puffy from crying, and even as he looks back at Eddie fresh tears start gathering on his lashes.

It occurs to him that, if things had gone differently and he hadn’t made it out of the rubble, last night at Bobby’s would have been the last time he’d seen Buck, the last time Buck would have seen him. He would have died without them finally clearing whatever it is that lies between them.

“Eddie,” Buck sobs, shaking from head to toe.

“Hey,” Eddie reaches over with his other hand to cup Buck’s cheek, missing on the first attempt when he aims for the double, but lands on the second. Buck’s hand instantly comes up to press it against his face. “I’m okay. I mean, I can see two of you and I feel like I’ve been sat on by a house, but I’m alive, and I’ll be able to go home in a couple of days.”

“I thought—” Buck’s voice cracks, raw emotion pouring out of him in a panicky ramble. “God, Eddie, when I got the call from Bobby…the way he sounded. He said it was a head injury and I just—the whole drive here I couldn’t stop thinking that you'd be…that you’d have some kind of brain damage or…Eddie, I thought I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t, I’m right—”

“I love you,” He breathes, the words soothing Eddie’s injuries like no other balm could. “I love you so much, Eddie. I—I nearly said it, that night in my trailer after we’d…”

Eddie thinks back to the night in question, his memory foggy under the pain meds flowing through his IV. He vaguely remembers how Buck had been babbling in his usual way just before he came, his thought process spilling over a loose tongue as it always does when he’s caught in the throes of passion. He also remembers the odd expression that had been on Buck’s face as they’d come down from the high, slightly stunned.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks, swiping his thumb under Buck’s eye when a fresh tear falls.

The answer comes out as little more than a whisper. “I was scared,” He shakes his head minutely, tugging Eddie’s hand from his cheek and pressing a kiss to the palm. “I still am.”

“Scared of what?” Eddie frowns.

“This,” Buck looks at their joined hands. “The way I feel for you. It’s everything, Eddie. It consumes every inch of me to the point where I feel like I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I was scared that if I said the words out loud I would lose you. But I lost you anyway.”

“You didn’t lose me, Buck, I told you I’m going to be okay.”

“But I did, because you left anyway. No, I know why you did,” He buts in when Eddie starts to open his mouth to argue. “And it’s okay. We’ve been talking about it and I get it, I do—”

“Buck—”

“And I’m not trying to guilt you back into anything. I know we want different things, and I can’t give you the public relationship you want—”

“Buck—”

“And I don’t know if I ever can, and you deserve so much better than what I can give you. So I understand if you want to end this, but I just had to tell you—”

“Buck!” Eddie summons as much of the remaining energy he has left to snap the man’s name, breaking him from his spiral. Buck closes his mouth, teeth clacking together. “I love you, too.”

Buck blinks at him, eyes still wet and red-rimmed, but slowly a smile creeps across his face, and it’s the one he only shares with Eddie.

“Really?” He whispers, as though afraid Eddie will snatch the words back at any second.

“Really.”

The smile falters a fraction. “Why? I mean, it’s not like I can give you what you want.”

Eddie has heard a lot of self-deprecating talk from Buck, from his childhood to his catapulted career, from his parents to his failed relationships. But to ask Eddie why he loves him, that's got to be the saddest thing he’s ever heard come out of the man’s mouth.

“Because, Evan,” He sighs. “You are worth loving. It doesn’t matter what you can give me, my heart has decided it wants you. Even if that means we’ll still be a secret when we’re old and grey, and you’re reenacting your award-winning roles to an audience of old folks in our nursing home. I love you.”

Buck laughs wetly, dipping his head to kiss Eddie’s hands again, and when he looks up the smile is back, soft, open, and vulnerable, his very soul on display for Eddie.

“I don’t need us to be public, I don’t need the whole world to know,” Eddie continues. He’s exhausted, and darkness is starting to creep in on the edge of his vision, but he’s desperate to get the words out before sleep takes him again. “The only thing I want from you is your love.”

“You have it,” Buck promises, leaning over and gently kissing him for the first time in over a week. It feels like coming home. “It’s been yours since the first day I met you.”

“That long?” Eddie blinks slowly, hearing the slur to his words.

“Give or take,” Buck smiles. “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake.”

Eddie does.

“Buck, seriously, you really don't need to do this, I can look after myself,” Eddie says, wincing even as he protests when he moves a little too fast, jarring his broken ribs. Three days in the hospital, less than three hours at home after being discharged, and he’s already had enough of sitting around and doing nothing.

“Yeah, nice try, Eddie,” Buck huffs, doing his best to herd him out of the kitchen and back to the couch. All Eddie wants is to get himself a coffee, something he’s more than capable of doing. “Go sit down, I’ll bring it out to you.”

It takes Eddie far longer than he’ll admit to actually do that, and he’s sweating by the time he does make it safely down onto the couch cushion, gritting through the pain in his chest.

He’s looking at a minimum of three weeks recovery time at home before he can return to work, and even then it’ll be another two to three weeks of light duty before he can get signed off to go back out on calls. It’s safe to say he’s more than a little bit pissed off, and he’s sure the sour look on his face must rival Christopher’s when Eddie tells him it’s time to turn off the X-Box.

No position is comfortable, not sitting upright, not leaning to one side, not laying back against the cushions, nothing takes the pressure off his ribs. By the time Buck pads in with a coffee for each of them Eddie is on the verge of tears.

“Hey,” Buck rushes to set the mugs down, not even stopping when hot liquid sloshes over the rim of one of them, no doubt burning his fingers. “Hey, what’s wrong.” He kneels in front of Eddie, hands hovering as he scans looking for any obvious cause to Eddie’s distress.

“I’m not very good at being the patient,” Eddie sniffles. “I’d rather be the one giving care.” Buck’s face softens and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the pout Eddie knows is on his lips.

“It’s not going to be forever,” Buck says softly, reaching behind him for one of the coffees and handing it to Eddie, then taking his own and sliding onto the couch next to him. He moves slowly so as not to cause Eddie any more pain. “You’ll be back at work in a few weeks, and quite frankly I’ll take this over you being dead.”

That brings out a small laugh, the motion hurting but not nearly as much as before, whether that’s due to Buck’s presence or not Eddie doesn’t know, but if he’s being entirely honest he’s glad to have Buck there with him.

“And you’ve got me here for the next week, so let me help. Please.”

Eddie had tried arguing when Buck had told him he’d called the studio, bargaining a week off in return for giving up a percentage of his salary to allow the movie to go over schedule. Buck had just stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed, so reminiscent of a child throwing a tantrum. But Buck wouldn’t be swayed. He’d already moved in for the week, a bag of clothes shoved into a corner of Eddie’s bedroom and his toothbrush already next to Eddie’s in the bathroom.

The sight of it had caused Eddie's heart to do a funny little dance at the sheer domesticity of it all.

“Okay,” Eddie relents. “You can help.”

Buck rumbles out a chuckle, grinning at him from behind his coffee mug. “Oh, you're so long-suffering. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“So, how’re you feeling?” Maddie asks, adding the tomatoes to the salad she'd started preparing not long after she arrived. With Buck back on set, Eddie will admit he’s been feeling a bit lonely, used to having Buck by his side every day for a week, and the house is suddenly feeling too quiet.

“Good, I can move a little more easily now,” As if to prove his point he grabs the large salad bowl down from one of the top shelves in the cabinet. “I’m hoping to get signed off sooner than the six weeks.”

“Well, don’t push it,” Maddie chides, although there’s little to no actual force to the words. “I used to be a nurse so I know how tricky ribs can be if they don’t set right.”

“I’m wearing the compression wrap, I’m doing my deep breathing, and I’m not ever exserting myself,” Eddie lists as he hands Maddie the bowl. “I just want to get back to work.”

“There’s no harm in letting your body take the time it needs to heel, you went through something traumatic.”

“It wasn’t that traumatic, I wasn’t impaled or anything,” He counters, snagging a stray tomato and tossing it into his mouth. “It was just—”

Maddie cuts him off with a look. “Just a few broken ribs and a serious concussion. Buck said you had double vision for two days.”

Snitch.

“It could have been worse.”

“Exactly, could have been, take the win, Eddie. Put your feet up and relax.”

“I’m not really the feet up and relax kind of person. I’ve never been very good at sitting still.”

“You and Buck have that in common then,” She laughs. Eddie watches her bustle about the kitchen, somehow finding her way around without Eddie needing to direct her. She’d turned up with several bags of groceries, the contents of which just so happened to be items that were running low or that he was out of entirely. He suspects Buck sent her a list and asked her to stop by.

He hasn’t spent a lot of time with Maddie, not outside of her few appearances at the station and the little he saw of her at the gala when she was mostly wrapped up in Chimney. But she’s easy to talk to, perhaps because she and Buck are so alike.

But it’s nice to have the opportunity to get to know her better, especially now he and Buck have exchanged I love yous.

“He’s the worst patient ever, I hope you never have to experience it,” Maddie rolls her eyes as she sets the finished salad on the table next to the deli meats and cheeses already laid out. “The second he was back on his feet he was always back out on his skateboard or climbing another tree.”

“He’s mentioned a little about that, said he used to do it on purpose to get attention,” Eddie sinks onto a chair at the table with only the smallest amount of discomfort at the movement, and Maddie takes the one opposite, passing him the salad tongs.

“Yeah,” She confirms sadly. “I didn’t really register the implications of what he was doing at the time, thought it was just him being a typical boy. But it wasn’t hard to miss the change in our parents' approach to him when he was hurt. Physically, at least. I think emotionally he’s always been hurting, he just covers it well.”

“I’ve got to say, it doesn’t paint your parents in a very good light. I mean, when I think about losing Christopher like that, even just the idea of it hurts, but if I had another child I couldn’t ever imagine blaming them in that situation. Not for something that was completely beyond their control.”

He doesn’t want to completely disrespect the Buckley parents, not without having actually met them in person, but it’s a valid statement to make, especially given how the news came out. He knows both Buck and Maddie have been looking into it, trying to track down where the leak originated from, but so far they’ve had no luck. Even a phone call to his parents hadn’t shed any light on the matter, only resulting in an argument Eddie had caught the tail end of where the call was on speaker phone, with Buck ending up in tears again.

“You’re not wrong,” Maddie's willingness to agree speaks volumes. “I don’t think they ever set out to intentionally blame him, like you say, it was something Buck had no control over, but he was a reminder. They had him with the hope of getting a cure and then…”

“They were stuck with him,” Maddie’s eyes turn a little harsh at that. “Buck’s words, not mine. But he has a point. He asked your mom why she didn’t just give him up for adoption so she ‘didn’t have to live with the reminder every day’.” He adds, quoting Buck exactly.

“He did?” Maddie looks like her heart is breaking inside her chest, her eyes wide with desperation as though hoping Eddie will take it back. “What did she say? Eddie.” She presses when he doesn’t immediately answer.

“I think that’s maybe something you need to ask her yourself,” He says gently. He could tell her, he could tell her how hearing Buck’s mother tell her youngest son she wished she had had sparked such an intense rage that he had stormed over, plucked the phone out of Buck’s hands, and ended the call without another word. He could tell her how he’d held Buck while he cried for close to an hour, and then had continued to hold him when he slipped into an exhausted sleep.

But she needs closure on the matter, too.

Maddie nods and blinks away the mist that’s started to build in her eyes. Eddie gives her a moment, helping himself to some of the salad and grabbing a few slices of ham. When he looks back, angling the dish for her to take some food he finds her watching him.

“What?”

“You really love him, don’t you.”

It’s not a question.

“With all my heart,” Eddie vows, unblinking and without hesitation, earning him the warmest smile from Maddie to date.

“Good, he deserves someone to love him like that. Unconditionally,” She sits straighter in the chair, pulling herself together and adding some food to her plate. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

“He says the same about you, you know. With Chimney? I hear things are going well there.”

Maddie lets out a breathy laugh and her cheeks flush, reminding him of the days when he would tease his own sisters over their crushes on his friends. “They are. He’s been very patient with me. Relationships are…difficult for me after Doug.”

Eddie wasn’t expecting that response, for her to be quite so forthcoming. He knows the story, what Maddie went through at the hands of her husband, and what she had to do to escape him. But Buck said that she didn’t really talk about it, not outside of a clipped version of events citing she wanted to spare him the details. It warms his heart that she clearly feels as though she trusts him enough to share even a fraction of the story with Eddie.

“I can’t even begin to imagine. You’re a brave woman, Maddie,” He tells her with as much sincerity as he can gather, hoping she sees just how much he means it. “You got your life back and you’ve made something incredible with it. Chim’s a lucky man.”

Maddie lifts her water glass and holds it out over the table. “I think we’re all pretty lucky,” Eddie clinks raises his own glass, clinking it against hers.

“Cheers to that,” He digs in, taking a healthy mouthful.

“So, what exactly are your intentions with my brother?” Maddie smirks at him.

Eddie likes Buck’s home. It’s warm and lived in, not the typical cold, stark, and impersonal celebrity homes you might see on the MTV shows. Not that he spends his time watching those. But in all the times he’s been there it’s never felt as lived in as it does now.

The entirety of the 118 plus the husbands, wives, partners, and children fill every inch of space, chatting loudly and animatedly as they wait for the main feature of the evening.

The first viewing of Buck’s movie.

As a last thank you to the 118’s A shift for his time with them, Buck had managed to convince the studio to let him have a copy of the rough edit ahead of the premier the next evening. He’d only been able to secure tickets for Hen, Bobby, and Chimney for the premiere itself and wanted to do something for the Firefam as a whole, as Buck had affectionately nicknamed it.

It won’t have all the completed special effects, and he’d told Eddie some of the music tracks would be missing as well as some of the dubbing, whatever that was. But it meant that everyone could get somewhat of a first look.

“You excited for everyone to see it?” Eddie asks, slipping an arm around Buck’s waist and pulling him in close for a kiss. They’re in trusted company, all of Eddie’s colleagues aware of their relationship and the fact that it’s being kept under wraps, so he feels comfortable enough to be a little more public with his affection.

“I am,” Buck leans into Eddie’s embrace, brushing their noses together, clearly just as comfortable in their surroundings. “I just hope your scene hasn’t been cut. Chim would never let me hear the end of it.”

“God, he’ll be insufferable if that happens, maybe you should have checked beforehand,” Buck’s face drops, morphing into horror that Eddie leans in to kiss away. “I’m kidding, I’m sure it’s going to be fine. Even if we got cut we still have the experience, right?”

“R-right, yeah,” He doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“Hey, you want to hear something funny?” Eddie asks in an attempt to distract his boyfriend. “I had a call from Christopher’s school today.”

Buck is instantly flooding with concern, looking to where Chris is laughing with Harry at something Denny has just said. “Why? Did something happen?” The absolute care Buck has for the kid is something that Eddie will never grow tired of seeing.

“He’s fine, although his teacher said she’s concerned that Christopher is letting his imagination run away with him. Apparently,” Eddie continues when Buck frowns in confusion. “He’s been telling his whole class that Captain Chaos is his new best friend and that he makes the best pancakes in the world when he stays for a sleepover.”

“Really?” The concern fades away to be replaced with a boyish grin at being claimed as Christopher’s best friend.

“Well, we always knew he was your number one fan. I told her that Chris just loved the films so much that we make up our own stories about the characters.”

Buck’s head tilts at the explanation, his face doing that thing it does when Buck is thinking hard about something. The most prominent occasion that sticks in Eddie’s mind is that night all those months ago in Buck’s trailer, when it turned out that Buck had nearly uttered his first I love you to Eddie in the grips of a passion-filled moment.

This time he just puts it down to Buck being worried about Christopher spilling the beans, telling people that Captain Chaos sleeps in his dad’s bed most nights of the week. The last thing they need is the faculty gossip mill thinking Eddie has some sort of fictional superhero fetish.

“Come on, everyone’s here, let’s get this thing started,” He nudges Buck in the direction of the living room. Every spare inch of space on the couches and armchairs is already filled, leaving some people to perch on the arms while Christopher, Harry, and Denny have made themselves comfortable on a few beanbags Hen brought with her for extra seating.

The excitement from everyone is palpable, the anticipation of Buck’s movie finally about to be released has occupied every conversation at the station recently. Filming had wrapped up two weeks past the deadline and Buck had a month of downtime before preproduction started on his next project, a smaller indie film, which was a previous co-star of Buck’s directorial debut.

Buck had filled most of that time hanging out at the station, keeping Eddie company when he returned on light duties as the man behind for a few weeks, and taking more cooking lessons from Bobby.

His presence has now become commonplace, with Buck dropping in to visit whenever he has a free day. Eddie will wholeheartedly admit that he loves it, Buck turning up and dropping a kiss on his lips, sometimes bringing trays of coffee or pastries for everyone, and it’s gotten to the point now that the station feels empty when he’s not there.

He had initially been worried that Bobby might put a stop to the visits, telling Buck that, while he was still very much loved by all of them, that they had a job do to and his constant presence meant he was getting in the way. Instead, Bobby would excitedly tell Eddie about the new recipes he planned to show Buck, often asking after him when they sometimes didn’t see him for a few days. By the way Bobby would always greet Buck when he arrived, a two-armed hug with amble pats on the back, Eddie sometimes thought his captain was the most excited person to see him.

Buck was one of them now, one of the family.

“Uh, hey, everyone,” Buck moves to stand in front of the large screen TV that fills the majority of the space over the log burner, addressing the gathered audience. A silence falls as every head turns to him, smiling. “I just want to say a big thank you to you all for coming tonight, I’m so glad you could all make it. I’m sorry I couldn’t get the finished movie, but hopefully, you’ll still enjoy this.”

“They will if I’m in it!” Chimney calls from his spot wedged between Maddie and Hen, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from both sides.

“Anyway, I wanted to just say a big thank you, to all of you. You were all so amazing, showing me the ropes and not getting annoyed when I messed up or ignored direct orders, sorry Bobby,” He throws the apology in Bobby’s direction with a guilty smile. “I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I first walked into the 118, but, uh, yeah. Thank you.”

A ripple of applause breaks out with a few calls to start the movie. Eddie settles himself on the last empty beanbag next to Chris, shuffling back so there will be enough room for Buck to join him, and he wraps his arms and legs around the man when he joins him as the movie starts to play.

Less than 24 hours later Eddie finds himself in yet another suit Buck has bought him, despite his insistence not to. It’s a darker blue this time, with a slightly lighter tone check print, and it’s paired with a simple black turtleneck. He’s finished off the ensemble by wearing the watch Buck had given him for his birthday. With Buck needed for pre premiere interviews Eddie won’t get to see his outfit until they arrive.

In a repeat of the gala, a limousine picks Eddie up. He’s the last stop this time, the others already on board and smiling giddily at him as he climbs in.

“Looking very sharp there, Diaz,” Chimney grins playfully, trademark gum tucked into his cheek. “Dressing to impress someone in particular?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Eddie counters, turning Chim’s teasing back at him and eyeing the full black tuxedo he’s donned for the night. “Maddie’s going tonight, right?”

“Yes, yes, you’re both ridiculously in love, we know,” Hen rolls her eyes at their antics. “Now, let’s leave our relationship peacocking at home and enjoy our big night.” Despite the telling off she’s smiling just as big as Chimney.

“Life’s never gonna be the same after tonight.”

“Chim, we were in all of about thirty seconds of the scene, I doubt anyone’s going to be chasing us down the street and asking for our autographs,” Eddie’s words draw a loud and throaty laugh from Bobby. The rough edit they’d watched at Buck’s last night had been amazing, despite the missing finishing touches that would be present for the first official showing tonight.

“Thirty seconds or not, I am going to enjoy my five minutes of fame.”

The publicity for the film has really played on the LAFD connection, a photographer having visited the station a few weeks back to take some pictures of them to be used for promotional material, so their faces are now somewhat known, having been doing the rounds on social media.

So much so that, when they step out of the limo onto the bright red carpet leading to Grauman's Chinese Theatre, they’re greeted by a wall of noise. Eddie had thought their arrival at the gala had been discombobulating, but this is something else entirely. At the gala they weren’t the center of attention, there were so many big names there that night that they were just a footnote. Tonight, however, is all about Buck’s film, which means that they are the real-life representation of the characters.

Maddie greets them at the start of the carpet, guiding them down and stopping them in front of groups of reporters who fire questions at them, and Eddie finds the buzz and excitement of the night infecting him. He can’t stop smiling and he answers the questions with as much enthusiasm as Bobby, Chim, and Hen do.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” Taylor's dry tone reaches his ears as they finish one of the many interviews, having repeated the same answers to the same question, leaving Eddie feeling a little like he’s trapped in his very own groundhog day.

“Taylor, you don’t look half bad yourself,” They’ve been spending a little more time in each other’s company over the last few months, Eddie accepting that she’s an important part of Buck’s support system. He still isn’t overly fond of the woman and doesn’t think they’ll ever be friends, and he suspects the feeling is mutual. But they’ve reached a level of tolerance where they can snark playfully at each other, some of the remarks they throw verging on bullying and leaving Buck looking like he thinks he needs to separate them.

He doesn’t feel as though he has to prove himself to Taylor, but she has given her seal of approval in her own way, telling Eddie she no longer has any desire to break his legs. But she reiterated that she wouldn’t hesitate to if the need ever did arise.

“Wait until you see Buck, he looks like a whole damn snack tonight.”

“He always does,” Taylor fake gags, something Eddie hopes has been caught by one of the photographers. Perhaps he can slip them a few bucks for a copy he can have it blown up. “I take it you’re his date for the night?”

Taylor shrugs. “I was supposed to be but he gave me the night off, told me to enjoy myself.”

Night off? Eddie squints at her. “What do you mean? When did he say that?”

“Just now,” Taylor tips her chin in the direction of where the press line ends at the open doors to the theatre. There, standing just outside the entrance is Buck.

He looks the most handsome Eddie has ever seen him, clad in a simple pair of black pants with a matching shirt underneath a deep maroon velvet jacket. But it’s not the outfit that takes Eddie’s breath away, it’s the look on Buck’s face.

“Go on,” Taylor nudges his arm. “He’s waiting for you.”

Eddie’s feet carry him subconsciously, his mind unable to focus on anything other than Buck, and their eyes lock together as the distance between them closes.

The shouts of the reporters, the flashes of the cameras, the screaming fans, everything falls away until it’s just him and Buck, and nothing else matters.

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to say anything, he doesn’t get a second to tell Buck how handsome he looks, he doesn’t even get a chance to take a breath.

Because Buck’s hands are cradling his face and drawing him in for the kiss of a lifetime.

Later, Chim and Hen will tell him how the crowd erupted. They’ll tell him how the carpet lit up with the flashes of a hundred cameras going off at once. They’ll tell him how they clapped and cheered, and how Bobby wiped away tears of pride and joy. They’ll tell him how the pictures of them kissing started appearing on social media and news outlet websites within a matter of minutes for all the world to see. They’ll tell him how the comment sections were full of words of support and love.

They’ll tell him later.

Because for the rest of the night, Eddie’s universe narrows down to one thing and one thing only.

Buck.

“It’s an honor to present this next award. The five phenomenal actors nominated in this category delivered resonating, evocative, and captivating performances. They brought to life fully dimensional characters that were gritty, realistic, relatable, and complex. Some were drawn from real life, and all of them larger than life. Here are the outstanding nominees for performance by an actor in a leading role.”

The camera hovering by Buck’s side moves as the operator shifts a little closer, but Buck ignores it, glancing over at Eddie briefly, squeezing his hand, before turning his attention back to the stage.

Eddie can feel the slight tremble running through his fingers.

“Garry Alexander, Echoes of Valor. Derek Scott, Whispers of an Unwritten Promise. Todd Fame, Beyond the Veil. Leo Raine, The Last Outlaw. Evan Buckley, Flash Point.”

Pictures of the five nominees appear on the screen behind the presenter after their name is announced, a round of applause bracketing each one.

“The Oscar goes to…”

He rubs his thumb across Buck’s knuckles as the pause for dramatic effect stretches on.

“Evan Buckley, Flash Point.”

For a moment, time stops.

And the Buck turns and kisses him, lingering for a second, his lips moving against Eddie’s in an I love you that is only for him.

Then he stands, the camera operator moving out of his way, and Buck makes his way to the stage. Eddie joins the rest of the audience on their feet, applauding his win, and he’s never been more fucking proud of the man in his life. He knows that on the other side of the city, where Bobby and Athena are hosting an Oscar’s watching party, the 118 are going to be cheering him just as loudly as the people filling the theatre.

Even from the sixth row, Eddie can see the utter joy on Buck’s face as he accepts the infamous statue from the presenter, the gold reflecting on his features as he steps up to the microphone.

“Oh, wow!” He starts when the applause starts to quieten and the audience retakes their seats. “I know it’s probably a cliché, but being up against so many incredibly talented actors I was not expecting to win. This is such a huge honour and I’m incredibly grateful. There are so many people who have played a part in getting me to where I am today. My first thanks goes to my sister, Maddie, she’s been an inspiration to me since day one, and I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her love and influence. I’d like the thank Paramount Pictures and the fantastic casting team who put together an incredibly talented cast, and for trusting me with the role. The directors, the production team, the special effects crew, and the stunt coordinators for a smooth run and keeping us safe, and of course, to craft services for keeping us well fed.”

Buck’s eyes have been roaming the audience, seeking out the various people he’s thanking who he knows are in attendance tonight, but now land on Eddie.

“Lastly, I need to thank the man who helped me to not only find love but who helped me to love myself. He showed me that I can be brave enough to be honest with myself, to live my true life. To be loved by him is the most incredible gift to ever receive. Eddie, I love you, I love our son, Christopher, and I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you the same love you show me. But I don’t want to do that as your boyfriend.”

Juggling the heavy statue in one hand, Buck reaches into an inside pocket of his jacket with the other, pulling out a small black box.

“I want to do it as your husband.”

Chapter Text