Chapter Text
Buck jolted awake, stirred by movement at the foot of the bed. The room lay shrouded in darkness, except for a thin sliver of moonlight slicing through the window. Beside him, Eddie lay motionless, his breathing steady, deep in sleep.
Buck glanced down to find small hands pushing their way onto the bed. “Chris,” he murmured.
The boy looked up, having successfully hoisted himself onto the mattress. In the dim light, Buck could see the puffiness around Chris’s red-rimmed eyes. A sniffle followed. Buck’s heart clenched.
“Hey, buddy, bad dream?” he asked gently, shifting to sit up and scoop Chris closer to the head of the bed.
Chris nodded silently, tucking his face into Buck’s chest and breathing in deep, scenting him.
Eddie stirred, half-asleep, his arm reaching out to draw slow circles over his son’s back. Chris stayed nestled against Buck, small body trembling faintly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Buck asked, chin resting atop soft curls.
“You drowned," he whispered. "And I couldn't get to you."
“Oh, Chris,” Buck whispered, arms tightening instinctively around him. “I’m right here. I’m okay, and so are you. We’re miles away from the ocean. The water can’t touch us here.”
“You promise?”
Buck extended his pinky. “I pinky promise.”
Chris wrapped his pink around Buck’s for a moment and nodded against him, finally letting out a small sigh of relief as his body went limp with sleep.
-
Buck was roused once more, this time by his blaring phone alarm. The room was brighter now, sunlight filtering through the windows as dawn approached. Groggily, Buck reached over to silence the alarm.
Christopher had gravitated towards Eddie in his sleep, seeking comfort in his father's embrace. Buck sat up and gently shook the boy awake.
"It's time to wake up," Buck said softly.
"I'm tired," Chris whined, stretching his arms dramatically.
"I know, bud, but it's time for school," Buck reminded him gently.
"Do I have to go?" Chris protested.
"Yes," Eddie chimed in, his eyes barely open as he addressed his son.
"Fine," Christopher sighed, reluctantly getting up and heading to his room to prepare for the day.
Eddie glanced at Buck, fatigue evident in his expression as he yawned widely.
"I can take him to school today," Buck offered.
Eddie hesitated, ready to decline before weariness took over. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive. I know your shift ran late. You need more rest. It's the least I can do," Buck insisted, slipping out of bed.
"We're way past the least you can do, Buck," Eddie remarked gratefully.
Eddie reached out and gently grasped Buck's forearm. "Seriously, thank you."
“It’s my pleasure. You two are helping me out as well. By taking my mind off – you know… everything that happened this year.”
“We’re quite symbiotic, aren’t we?” Eddie grinned.
Buck nodded. “I’m meeting Maddie for coffee this morning. I’ll be back around eleven. Get some sleep while I’m gone.”
-
Maddie sat across from him at their usual café.
“So,” she began, “when’s the new job starting?”
“Next week,” Buck replied, short and clipped.
Her brow quirked. “Are you excited?”
Buck hesitated. Excited was not the word he would use. Dread was closer. The idea of being chained to the desk, even for a temporary assignment, unsettled him. He'd been a hyperactive kid, always fidgeting, always craving stimulation. The kind of stimulation that only firefighting seemed to satiate.
Buck met her gaze flatly. “Am I excited to sit at a desk all day pushing pencils? Not really.”
“Hey, I sit at a desk all day,” she shot back.
“Yeah, but you help people.”
“Fire marshals do help people. Maybe not in the front-line, instantly gratifying way you’re used to, but your work will matter.”
Buck shook his head unsatisfied. “I get it, but I know I can handle being back in the field.”
“It’s about minimizing risk. You can’t predict hazards out there, and with your medication—”
Buck scoffed, barely suppressing an eye roll. The arguments always came back to the medication. The tiny pill that convinced his team that he was too fragile to work. They acted like a paper cut would cause him to bleed out on the street.
"Would it kill you to be on my side?" he argued.
Her lips tightened. “Buck…”
He exhaled sharply, the tension refusing to drain. “It just sucks. Feels like no one wants me back. Like surviving a tsunami doesn't prove that I'm capable of working while on blood thinners.”
She studied him a moment, then sighed. “Okay. Let’s change the subject. I love you. I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be safe. I think I speak for everyone on your team.”
Buck didn’t respond. Bitterness rose to the surface that he tried to suppress; he was tired of them brushing him off.
Maddie pressed on, eyes flicking up. “You’re still staying with Eddie?”
He nodded, still not dignifying her.
“Are Christopher’s nightmares getting any better?” she tried again.
“He’s not waking up screaming anymore. Mostly, he just wants to sleep between us,” he responded, relenting.
“I think it’s good. With everything that happened to his mom…a comforting omega presence is beneficial.”
“Yeah,” Buck murmured. Images of Shannon Diaz lying bloody and crumpled on the street flashed in his mind.
Maddie leaned in slightly, voice light but loaded. “I have to ask… are you and Eddie, like, a thing ?”
Buck shot her a look and let out a long, weary sigh. She knew how to get under his skin. Begrudgingly, they weren't a thing. Despite how many hours Buck spent daydreaming about holding Eddie's hand, kissing his lips, and exploring his body.
“No, we are definitely not a thing.”
Maddie raised her cappuccino to her lips, eyebrows lifted. “Would you? If he made a move?”
Buck hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I mean, he’s attractive. We’re compatible. But… I want something serious, you know?”
She nodded and took a small sip, watching him over the rim of her cup.
“I’ve spent too many years just sleeping around. Getting stuck in relationships that didn’t mean anything..." he trailed off.
“Your relationship with Eddie is anything but meaningless,” she said with a fierce certainty.
Buck sat with the statement. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t even know if he’s into me like that.”
“Oh, he’s into you,” she said without hesitation.
Buck raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
Maddie nodded—emphatically.
“Well…” Buck started. Mind trailing to recent memories of Eddie's body plastered to his back in the early morning hours.
“Well, what?” she pushed, voice teasing.
Buck scratched the back of his neck, eyes avoiding hers. “Sometimes Chris goes back to his room before we wake up. And, um… there’ve been mornings where I’ve woken up to Eddie snuggled up to me. And I can feel his… You know.”
Maddie froze, then burst out laughing. “Seriously? ”
“Seriously,” he confirmed, face flushed.
“And you haven’t done anything about it?”
“No. We haven’t crossed that line.”
She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Buck, sleeping in the same bed for the past few weeks? You’re not just toeing that line—you’re straddling it.”
“That’s for Christopher,” Buck defended quickly. “Not Eddie.”
“Okaaayyyy,” she said, drawing out the word with suspicion.
Buck huffed and rubbed a hand down his face. “How are things with Chimney?” he asked, eager to change the subject.
-
Buck unlocked the front door of the Diaz residence and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him.
The house was still. Eddie must be asleep.
He moved toward the bedroom, instinctively softening his steps to avoid waking him.
The door was ajar—just as Buck had left it after dropping Christopher off at school.
He paused, then slowly leaned in to peer around the corner.
The breath caught in his throat.
Eddie lay on his side, face buried in Buck’s pillow, inhaling its scent. A thin white sheet clung to his body, the comforter bunched at the foot of the bed in disarray.
Buck could just make out the silhouette of his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly.
The man moaned in pleasure, “Buck…”
Heat pooled in Buck’s stomach, slick beginning to slowly leak into his underwear. Buck stood frozen in the cracked doorway, uncertain of what to do next. An unwelcome mixture of panic and arousal overcame him, breath hitching in his throat.
He must’ve caught Eddie’s eye—because Eddie startled, eyes snapping toward him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face at the sudden intrusion.
The weirdest thing, though, is he didn’t stop. He continued to stroke himself, this time making direct eye contact with Buck.
“How long have you been standing there, Buck?” Eddie asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.
A hot wave of embarrassment and uncertainty swallowed him whole.
“Like… fifteen seconds,” Buck admitted. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare—I should’ve knocked. This is a total invasion of your privacy. I can go back to the loft—”
He was spiraling, words tumbling out in a rush.
Eddie’s hand never stopped, languidly stroking his cock—dark eyes not once leaving Buck's.
“Do I look like I want you to be sorry?” he asked, kicking the sheet down toward the bed. Buck's eyes settled on his naked form. He was beautiful. His body looked like it was carved from marble; in another life, he could be a sculptor's muse. Abs flexing under golden tan skin as a moan of pleasure escaped his lips.
“Um… I’m not really sure how to answer that," he answered, stiffening in his pants.
“Are you slick right now?” Eddie asked, inhaling sharply.
Buck swallowed hard, “Yes.”
“God, I can smell it.”
“This is so mortifying,” Buck whimpered.
“It’s intoxicating, you’re intoxicating,” Eddie rambled.
“Eddie…” Buck stepped further into the bedroom.
“You’re just amazing,” Eddie said, his hand picking up the pace. “Everything you do for me, for my son, I’m just so thankful.”
Eddie continued sounding delirious with pleasure, “Please let me show you how thankful I am, god, I need you.”
Buck inched closer to the bed before resting his knee on the edge. Eddie looked up at him, eyes heavy with desire. His scent registered as heavier—rich and heady with arousal.
Buck leaned down and captured him with a timid kiss. It was sweet at first—gentle.
Then Eddie filthily deepened the kiss, locking their tongues together. The force of it clanked their teeth together at first, then they settled into a fervent rhythm.
Buck stood over Eddie, the alpha moving to press wild kisses to his jaw and neck. Buck moaned at the sensation, his hard cock pressing uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans.
Eddie growled, “I need to see you naked.”
Buck made quick work of his clothes. He slowly rolled his damp boxers down his long legs— cock springing free.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eddie said, gawking at the sight of the naked omega.
Buck slid into the bed with Eddie, under the light sheet. They lay face-to-face for a second, basking in the moment. He couldn't believe this was happening; it was like a scene from his filthiest dreams. Eddie watched Buck, silently lifting his hand and settling it on the curve of Buck's cheek.
He captured Eddie’s lips once more. Eddie brought the hand to the back of his head, running his fingers through Buck’s curls while the other continued to stroke himself.
Buck slid his hand down Eddie’s other arm. He grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand away, then he wrapped their fingers together for a moment.
He led Eddie’s hand to reach around behind him, placing it on the swell of his ass. Eddie's fingers gently grazed his slick entrance. Eddie broke away from the kiss, focusing instead on rubbing his long fingers over Buck's hole. Buck buried his face into the side of Eddie's neck, kissing slowly and fighting the urge to leave a mark.
“Fuck…” Eddie moaned before slipping his finger inside. Pushing in and out, trying to find that sweet spot inside. Buck's hips jerked, pleasure zapping through him like a bolt of lightning.
"There," he sighed.
Eddie zeroed in on that spot, finding it again and again with practiced precision. The overstimulation ripped a cry out of Buck's throat.
Buck reached between the two of them to grab Eddie’s heavy cock. He held it in his hands for a brief moment, getting a feel for the weight before he began moving his hand up and down his length.
Eddie added another finger while picking up the pace. He slammed fingers into Buck, the omega letting out breathy moans as he continued, his accuracy sharp and unrelenting.
“Fuck me, I need you in me,” Buck whined as Eddie continued to finger him.
With a growl of effort, Eddie dragged Buck upright and twisted him onto all fours. Buck barely had time to react before he found himself braced against the bed, staring back in awe at the alpha who’d manhandled him so easily.
Eddie pressed up behind Buck, sinking his fingertips into his hips for leverage. He began sliding his cock up and down Buck’s entrance— sweat glistened on his chiseled torso.
“Condom?” Eddie questioned.
“I’m clean and I’m on the shot for birth control,” Buck replied. The idea of a condom preventing him from feeling Eddie in his entirety was deeply unappealing.
“I’m clean,” Eddie mentioned, gripping Buck’s hips tighter.
“Then what are you waiting for, alpha?” Buck teased.
That’s all the encouragement Eddie needed before he sheathed himself into Buck.
Buck groaned loudly at the sudden fullness. Eddie began to pull out slowly before pounding back in.
“Oh my god…” Buck moaned in bliss.
Eddie kept up a slow agonizing pace before lowering himself slightly to grab Buck’s cock. He stroked him with each thrust.
“Faster, please,” Buck begged.
Eddie let out a low chuckle. He pounded into Buck quickly, increasing the force as he drove himself deeper into the omega's body.
Buck yelped in surprise. Eddie didn’t let up.
Buck let out little uh-uh sounds with each push and pull, brain registering nothing else but the pleasure he felt.
“I’m gonna cum,” Eddie groaned.
Buck could feel the pressure gathering in his lower belly, on the precipice of release.
“I’m close too,” Buck admitted. “Knot me alpha,” he moaned as Eddie continued to pound into him
Eddie growled upon release, knot locking himself in Buck’s body.
The warmth he felt as he was filled with Eddie’s seed sent him over the edge. He cried out when he came, shooting hot spurts onto the sheets below him.
Buck lowered himself to his stomach, Eddie following suit as they were locked together.
Eddie lay directly on top of him for a brief moment before rolling them both to their side.
“That was amazing,” Eddie confessed.
Buck hummed in agreement. He felt more settled than he had in a while.
He closed his eyes briefly before letting sleep take over.
-
The next few days passed in a kind of bliss. They’d fallen into a rhythm on Eddie’s days off.
In the mornings, one of them would drop Christopher off at school. They’d make it home, tumble into bed, and let the day dissolve in sweat, kisses, and languid touches.
When it was time to pick up Christopher, they went together—Buck in the passenger seat, Eddie at the wheel. As soon as Christopher appeared at the school doors, Buck would hop out, sweep the boy into a hug, and plant a wet kiss on his cheek before helping him climb into the truck.
Back home, Eddie would sit with Christopher at the dining room table, helping him with homework, while Buck stood at the stove, cooking dinner for three.
At night, they traded turns reading Christopher’s bedtime story and tucking him in. When the boy was asleep, they’d curl into each other and let the night take them.
The quiet domesticity of it all satiated his inner omega, leaving him content in a way he had never truly known before. For once, his instincts felt quiet, secure, satisfied.
And yet, beneath that peace, an uglier undercurrent stirred. A part of him whispered that he didn’t deserve this kind of comfort, that he was only playing house in a life that wasn’t really his. He caught himself flinching at the thought of permanence, afraid that at any moment the illusion would crack and he’d be exposed as an impostor—someone who hadn’t earned the family, the love, or the future he was pretending was his.
-
The morning of his last weekday off before starting the fire marshal job, Buck woke with a faint ache in his chest. Eddie was still beside him, sleeping soundly after a twenty-four-hour shift.
Buck went through the motions of getting Christopher ready for school, forcing himself not to linger on the thought that this might be the last time for a while. Once his new 9-to-5 started, Carla would handle drop-offs and pick-ups. He would be in an office.
The thought made him shudder.
When he came back through the door after dropping Christopher off, Eddie was on the sofa with a mug of coffee in hand.
“Hey,” Eddie greeted, a fond smile warming his features.
Buck came up behind the couch and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie smiled into it.
Shedding his jacket and kicking off his shoes without care for where they landed, Buck rounded the sofa and dropped onto the cushions. He stretched his long legs out and nestled into Eddie’s side. Eddie’s arm came around him automatically.
“You okay?” Eddie asked.
“Fine,” Buck murmured. “Just… last day we’ll get to spend together before I start the fire marshal job.”
Eddie considered that for a moment, then smiled.
“Well, we’ll have to make the most of it. What do you want to do today?”
Buck stared off for a long moment before speaking.
“I want to go to the beach,” he said finally, sitting up to catch Eddie’s reaction.
One of Eddie’s eyebrows lifted. “Okay… we can do that. Are you sure?”
Buck nodded, the movement quick and certain. “Positive. I don’t want what happened to have any power over me. Plus, I think I’ll feel safer if you’re with me.”
“It’s only been three weeks,” Eddie reminded gently. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”
“Well, we can’t go back to Santa Monica—not for a while,” Buck admitted. “But I think I’ll be fine at another beach.”
“Why don’t we drive up to Malibu?” Eddie suggested. “It’s a bit of a hike, but it doesn’t have any tsunami damage.”
Buck’s lips curved into a small smile. “I like that idea.”
-
The drive to Malibu would take over an hour. Eddie had picked a scenic route—one that avoided Santa Monica entirely.
For a while, they rode in easy silence. Eddie kept his attention on the road while Buck tuned the radio to a station playing soft acoustic music. The mellow chords took the edge off his nerves. Despite what he’d told Eddie earlier, he still wasn’t sure how he’d feel being this close to the ocean again.
Buck rested his head against the window, watching the rolling, rocky hills slip past. Soon, the narrow, enclosing cliffs gave way to a flash of brilliant blue as Eddie turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway.
Without a word, Eddie reached over and set a warm, steadying hand on Buck’s thigh.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Buck gave a small nod. He felt fine—calm, even—but that calm carried its own guilt. Christopher still woke some nights screaming from nightmares about the tsunami, while Buck, even with the ocean stretching beside him, remained unshaken.
Still, Eddie kept glancing at him every few seconds, as if expecting to find him unraveling. It didn’t take Buck long to realize the reassurance went both ways.
“I’m fine, Eddie,” he said, a hint of bratty defiance slipping into his tone. “You can stop staring at me like that.”
“Excuse me for being worried,” Eddie replied with a chuckle.
To keep him from worrying, Buck decided to fill the quiet. “How’s work been?”
“Fine. Not the same without you. I’m gonna have permanent bruises from being the one in the harness every time.”
Buck laughed, though the sound carried an undercurrent of something sharper. Resentment. He was damn good at rope rescues—the best—and he knew he could do one right now without breaking a sweat.
“I wish they’d let me back,” he said.
“They will,” Eddie assured him. “Once the clots are gone.”
“Even with the clots and the blood thinners, I’m ready. I know I am.”
“Buck…” Eddie’s voice took on that careful, measured tone. “Look, the way I see it—and probably the way the brass sees it—is that even if you’re at full strength, one nick or cut could be dangerous. You know how easy it is for us to get cut out there, or god forbid, you sustain any kind of internal injury.”
“Yeah. Kinda like the cuts I got during the tsunami. Which I survived, by the way. And not only survived, but saved a lot of people while I was at it.”
“I just want you safe,” Eddie said, trying—and mostly failing—to keep the edge out of his voice.
Buck wanted to roll his eyes, but suppressed it. “Maddie said the same thing.”
“Well, your sister’s very wise,” Eddie said, smug.
“She also asked me if you and I were a thing when we had coffee on Monday.”
Eddie’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second on the steering wheel. “What did you tell her?” There was a faint, unmistakable edge in his voice.
“We weren’t a thing then, so I told her the truth. She swore you were into me. I didn’t believe her—at least, not until I came home and you were, you know…”
“Have you talked to her about it since?” Eddie asked, that same guarded tone still there.
“Uh… no. Haven’t spoken to her since,” Buck said.
“Good,” Eddie breathed out.
Buck shot him a puzzled look. Eddie caught it and explained, “I want to keep this between us for a while. You know how the team likes to meddle. This is new, and I don’t want their input yet.”
Buck nodded slowly. The thought of Eddie’s hidden motives stirred something raw and ugly in him, and so he relented. “Yeah. And it’d probably give them another excuse to keep me off the team anyway,” he grinned faintly.
“Exactly,” Eddie said, pulling into the beach access lot.
-
They lounged by the shore for a while, sprawled across the large beach blanket, nibbling at the picnic lunch Buck had packed.
Though last week had marked the official start of autumn, summer still lingered in Southern California, the heat clinging stubbornly to the air.
“It’s warm today,” Eddie muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, his gaze drifting toward the glittering Pacific.
“Then let’s go swimming,” Buck said, pushing to his feet and tugging his T-shirt over his head.
Eddie’s eyes lingered on the bare expanse of Buck’s torso before he stood and shed his own shirt.
Buck caught his hand, lacing their fingers together as he led him toward the water.
The first touch of the Pacific made Buck suck in a sharp breath. By the time it reached his calves, the chill was a shock against his sun-warmed skin. Late September might be warmer than usual, but the ocean hadn’t gotten the memo.
They waded in slowly, inching past the shore break until the water reached Buck’s waist and lapped just below Eddie’s chest.
Buck let himself tip backward, feet lifting from the sandy bottom, the salt water cradling him as he floated over the gentle swells. Eyes closed, he surrendered to the rhythm of the ocean, letting it rock him.
“Buck!”
His eyes flew open. Eddie was about thirty feet away, standing where the waves still broke gently against his chest. Buck reached down for the sand—only to find nothing beneath his toes. The current had carried him beyond the sandbar.
He ducked under, cutting through the water with practiced ease, and swam straight back to Eddie. When he surfaced, he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling himself up just enough to capture his lips. Eddie kissed him back, slow and unhurried.
“I never realized you were such a strong swimmer,” Eddie said when they parted, his arms still around Buck.
“Thanks. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I tried out for the Navy SEALs once.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “No kidding?”
“Yeah. I made it most of the way through BUDS before I realized it wasn’t for me.”
“Why not?” Eddie asked.
“The physical stuff wasn’t bad—hard, sure, but doable. I just didn’t have the temperament. I can’t turn my emotions off the way they wanted and mindlessly follow orders,” Buck admitted.
Eddie’s voice softened. “That’s one of my favorite things about you.”
“That I can’t follow orders?” Buck asked, half-smiling.
No. How deeply you feel. How much you care,” Eddie said, looking at him with quiet fondness.
Buck batted his eyelashes with exaggerated sweetness. “Wanna know one of my favorite things about you?”
Eddie nodded.
“How safe you make me feel,” Buck said. “When you’ve got my back, I know everything’s going to be okay.”
Something flickered in Eddie’s expression—gone too quickly for Buck to name.
“Come here,” Eddie murmured, pulling Buck close and kissing him hard.
When they broke apart, Eddie’s eyes searched his face. “Your eyes look so blue out here.”
Buck’s cheeks flushed at the observation, the warmth of it blooming deeper than the sun’s heat.
-
The rest of the weekend vanished in a blur.
Before Buck knew it, he was helping Christopher into Carla’s car, waving them off before heading back inside to get ready for his first day at the fire marshal’s office.
He arrived at exactly 8:30 a.m.
His new boss, one of the heads of the LAFD’s fire prevention division, worked out of an office that looked more like a storage unit. The harsh LED lights bleached the room in cold white, throwing every overstuffed file folder into stark relief. Papers covered nearly every flat surface.
The man behind the desk was absorbed in one such file, reading glasses perched on his nose. Older than Bobby, he was bald with a full, greying beard and carried a bit of weight around his middle.
“Hi, Mr. Turner?” Buck greeted, lingering in the doorway.
The man startled, glancing up and taking in the sight of him. “You must be Evan Buckley.”
“That’s me,” Buck said with a sheepish smile. “But everyone calls me Buck.”
“You can come in and take a seat,” Turner said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. His tone was polite enough, but it lacked the easy warmth Bobby had shown him on his first day at the 118.
Once Buck sat, Turner leaned back in his chair, fingers folding over the cheap wooden desk. “Here’s the deal, kid. This is a temporary gig for you, which we don’t typically do around here. But given the nature of your injury, we’re doing the department a big favor. We lost one of our most senior fire prevention engineers to retirement, so I’m doing the job of two people until we can fill the position. You’re essentially going to be my assistant until you’re cleared to get back on a rig.”
Buck nodded. Straightforward enough. “Okay, sir.”
“Ever worked an office job before?” Turner asked.
Buck shook his head. “No, sir. First time.”
“Well, there’s not much to it. I’ll give you a task, you’ll do the task. When you’re done, come find me for another. You’ll also be coming along on inspections—Thursdays are my inspection days.”
“If I don’t know how to do something?” Buck asked.
“Don’t bother me with it. Go bother those omega ladies down at reception. They’ll be happy to help.”
Buck blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness. “Right… okay.”
“First thing I’ll have you do is some scanning,” Turner went on. “The office is going green—keeping digital files only this year. Which means we have to scan all the old ones so they’re accessible online. You can thank that bastard Newsom for the neck ache you’ll have by the end of the day.” He jabbed a finger toward the corner, where four overstuffed boxes of files teetered in a stack.
-
Mr. Turner was right about that neck ache. Spending all day hunched over the scanner was demeaning at best. What made it worse was the endless monotony. The kind of task where seconds stretch into minutes, minutes into hours, and each scan bleeds into the next until the day feels like one long smear of sound and fluorescent light.
So much for still helping people, Maddie.
He kept kneading the soreness from his neck on the drive home, grateful when Eddie’s truck came into view in the driveway.
Inside, Christopher and Eddie were sprawled on the couch in front of a cartoon Buck didn’t recognize.
“Hi, Buck!” Christopher called, beaming.
“Hey, bud, how was your day?” Buck grinned back. If anyone could lift the weight of a long, thankless day of work, it was Christopher.
“It was awesome! Ms. Flores said I had the best essay in the class.”
“Wow! That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
“Likewise,” Eddie said, hugging his son and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“I think that calls for celebration. What do you want for dinner? I can make anything you—”
“Daddy already ordered food,” Christopher interrupted.
Buck glanced back toward Eddie for confirmation.
“Yep. I ordered Thai delivery—it’ll be here in half an hour.”
“Thai’s my favorite,” Buck said, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
“We know,” Eddie said simply. “We’re celebrating you, too.”
“Why?”
“Your first day at work.”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Buck said, suddenly self-conscious. Standing at a copy machine for eight hours was not worth celebrating.
“It’s not nothing. We’re proud of you,” Eddie said, and Christopher chimed in with an enthusiastic, “Yeah, Buck!”
“Thanks, guys,” Buck murmured, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m gonna change into something more comfortable.”
-
Later that night, after dinner and tucking Christopher into bed, they lay face-to-face in the bedroom.
“I never asked—how was your day?” Eddie said.
Buck shrugged. “It was fine.”
“That’s all I get? Did you enjoy it at all?”
“No.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, pulling him in and wrapping him in a steady embrace.
Buck's head rested on Eddie's chest, and they lay in comfortable silence for a few moments.
“How was your shift?” Buck asked, breaking the silence.
“Good. We had this crazy call—a hiker wandered off the trail, walked straight off a cliff, and landed on a ledge about fifteen feet down. Bosko and I had to rappel down to get her.”
Buck’s attention snagged on one detail. His heart sank. “Who’s Bosko?”
“Oh, um…” Eddie hesitated, choosing his words. “Lena Bosko. She’s filling in on A-shift—her firehouse got hit in the tsunami.”
“Bobby finally replaced me, huh?” Buck’s voice was quiet, edged with hurt. While he was slumped over the scanner, Eddie and Bosko were out in the field—actually helping people.
“No,” Eddie said firmly. “She’s just a temp until you’re better.”
“Sure,” Buck replied, voice dripping with disbelief.
Eddie’s arms loosened. His expression was stern as he spoke. “I don’t want to do this tonight. The team is ready to welcome you back when you are healthy .”
He rolled away, switching off his bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness.
“Good night, Buck,” Eddie said with an air of finality that irritated Buck. It was so typically alpha to get the last word, to end the argument on his terms.
Buck mirrored the motion, turning his back as well. A foot of space stretched between them, the air heavy with things unsaid.
The tears came silently. He wanted to argue, to lay out exactly how unfair this all was. But Eddie wouldn’t even give him the decency to hear him out.
-
Things went back to “normal” the next day—or at least Eddie pretended nothing had changed. Maybe he truly didn’t realize he’d hurt Buck’s feelings.
Buck didn’t bring it up. Even when the frustration clawed at his throat, he bit it back. No rants, no complaints to Eddie about how much he hated Mr. Turner, how much he missed the team, or how he dreaded showing up at work each morning—even though it had been less than a week. Eddie’s earlier dismissal had made it clear enough: he didn’t agree with Buck’s take on the situation. And the fact that conversations had clearly been happening behind his back didn’t help.
That’s why Bobby’s text on Thursday night came as such a surprise: Lunch on me, tomorrow? As a congratulations for making it through your first week.
The restaurant was one of those coastal California spots with sun-bleached wood tables and woven chairs. The scent of grilled fish and citrus drifted on the breeze.
Bobby had already claimed a table on the far side of the patio, half in the shade, a glass of iced tea sweating in front of him.
Buck slid into the seat across from him.
“Hi,” Buck said, the word polite but restrained.
“It’s great to see you, Buck,” Bobby replied with measured warmth.
“You too,” Buck answered cordially.
The air between them felt tense, awkwardness lingering from their conversation at the hospital, after the embolism.
“How are things at the fire marshal’s office?” he asked, like he didn’t already know from Eddie.
“I think you already know how it’s going,” Buck said flatly.
“Eddie mentioned you weren’t liking it as much as I’d hoped.”
“It sucks, truthfully.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bobby said, “but remember—it’s only temporary.”
Buck leaned back, arms crossing. “Have you heard anything from the higher-ups about when I can come back?”
Bobby cleared his throat, eyes dropping to his tea. “Um… probably when you’re off the blood thinners.”
“That could take six months,” Buck said, frustration creeping in.
“I know,” Bobby replied.
“I can’t do this job for six more months,” Buck pressed.
“You can,” Bobby said with certainty.
“What if they let me back but keep Bosko? I could still be out in the field, just let her and Eddie handle the high-risk calls.”
Bobby’s brows furrowed. “How do you know about Bosko?”
“Eddie told me. Why am I not supposed to know you replaced me?” Buck’s tone sharpened.
“We did not replace you, Buck.”
Bobby continued, “I can’t have that many firefighters on the roster; we’d need you at full strength.”
Buck let out a frustrated groan. He was at full strength. “But you didn’t replace me, right?”
“No, Buck,” Bobby said firmly, meeting his gaze. “We didn’t replace you.”
-
Things came tumbling down around Buck that evening.
He came home from his shift irritated, nerves still raw from lunch with Bobby and the latest demeaning “assignment” Mr. Turner had thrown at him.
Eddie was sprawled on the sofa, one arm draped lazily over the back.
“Hey,” Eddie piped up casually.
“Is Chris home?” Buck asked immediately, craving the boy’s hug like a lifeline.
“No. Sleepover tonight.”
Buck froze mid-step. “A sleepover? You think he’ll be okay?”
“Yes. No nightmares for a few days now. His friend’s mom knows she can call us anytime—whether we have to pick him up or he just wants to talk.”
Relief softened Buck’s shoulders. “Good. He deserves to feel normal again.”
They microwaved leftovers and ate at the counter. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge.
Eddie rinsed dishes at the sink while Buck sipped a beer.
“Work any better today?” Eddie asked over the rush of water.
“Eh. Spent all day organizing files, but at least I got to sit with Francine and Connie at the reception desk.”
Eddie made an approving sound.
“Francine tried to set me up with her alpha daughter,” Buck added.
Eddie’s hands stilled under the faucet. “What’d you tell her?”
“That I wasn’t interested,” Buck said quickly, satisfied at Eddie's defensive response.
“Okay,” Eddie breathed, relieved.
“I was thinking…” Buck began.
“That’s never good,” Eddie teased.
“What if we told people about us?” Buck asked, like it was nothing.
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Uh…”
“Bobby says it could be six months before I’m back. I don’t want to wait that long.”
“That’s not the only reason we’re not telling people,” Eddie countered.
“They’re gonna meddle either way—now or in six months.”
“I’m not ready. End of story.” Eddie turned back to the sink.
Self-doubt tugged at Buck, urging him to press the issue.
“No, not end of story .” Buck’s voice sharpened. “Why don’t you want people to know we’re together?”
“Are we together?” Eddie asked evenly. “I don’t remember putting a label on… whatever this is.”
The words hit Buck like a slap. Confusion and anger coursed through him.
“What are you talking about? Of course, we’re together.”
“I’m not ready for anything serious right now,” Eddie said, exhaling heavily like he was relieved to get it off his chest.
Buck felt the floor tilt beneath him. “What do you mean? What we have is serious. I’m serious .”
“My wife died less than a year ago. What are people gonna think if they see I’ve already moved on?” he argued, his voice cracking. He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the room as if the walls themselves were pressing in on him. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, restless with grief and frustration, before he spun back to face them, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and shame.
Buck’s throat closed. He could see the logic, but it didn’t make it right. Not when he’d been allowed to slip into Eddie’s life like this. The intimacy, the domesticity—that's not how you treat someone you want to have casual sex with. He felt betrayed.
His eyes blurred, fat tears spilling hot down his cheeks.
“Buck, please don’t cry.” Eddie’s voice softened. “I could get there… just not anytime soon.”
“So I’m just supposed to live here, cook your meals, comfort your son, and let you fuck me, as a friend?” Buck’s voice rose until it cracked. “Fuck that.”
“It’s not like that—”
“It’s exactly like that,” Buck snapped, jabbing a finger toward him.
He stalked into the bedroom, yanking his duffel from Eddie’s closet and stuffing it clumsily with clothes. Eddie followed, his shadow looming in the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You are home.”
“No. I’m at my friend Eddie’s house—and I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“What about Christopher?” Eddie’s voice wavered.
Buck stilled for a heartbeat, then moved to the bathroom for his toiletries.
“Yeah, what about him?”
“He needs you. You’re the only one who can help him through the nightmares.”
“He’ll be fine. He can call me.”
“He doesn’t have a phone.”
“He can use yours. Or Carla’s.” Buck zipped the bag.
“You’ll pick up?” Eddie asked quietly.
“Yes,” Buck said, almost gently, as he stepped to the door.
“Please don’t go,” Eddie whispered.
Buck answered by slamming the door in his face.