Chapter Text
Bobby sat at the table in his apartment, the only light coming from the stove. It was nearly pitch black, but he didn’t care. He was staring intensely at a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Buck had left hours ago, and so had he- to run down to the convenience store and buy the bottle.
So there he was, sitting in the dark, completely alone as he faced all of his demons.
They hadn’t ended up talking about it that night, but Bobby couldn’t stop thinking about it. About Marcy and Brooke and Bobby Jr., and the fire he caused. About the floor collapsing out from under him, like it almost did the day he saved Buck.
Buck.
He was never going to look at Bobby the same. He was going to miss those big blue eyes gazing at him like he was the most incredible thing Buck had ever seen. He figured the hero worship would fade as they went on dates, but after that night and that kiss… He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to fade. That’s how he knew he had to tell him everything.
At first, he wasn’t sure what to disclose to Buck, he hadn’t planned on bringing anything up during their dates, wanting to take things slow. Then they were nearly making out in Bobby’s poor excuse for a dining room and it all just kind of… exploded.
All of his mixed emotions about dating, losing his family, and how he doesn’t deserve the second chance he’s getting.
Because he doesn’t.
Maybe having a breakdown in front of Buck was for the best. Now he knew how unstable and what a basket case Bobby was. And if he didn’t think that? Well then, knowing the truth about Bobby killing his family would definitely cement it in.
Bobby sighed and picked up the unopened bottle. It felt like the world’s heaviest bottle of liquor there in his palm. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He sat there for another minute before he inevitably stood up and walked over to the kitchenette, screwing the bottle open as he walked.
He hesitated as he stood there, contemplating the man he wanted to be and if he had the courage to be that man.
He tipped the bottle over and watched as the amber liquid splashed against the bottom of the sink. He could at least be that man tonight.
_________
Two days later, Bobby was on shift. He hadn’t seen Buck since that night, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about him. About kissing him and freaking out and probably completely blowing it.
About almost throwing away 18 months - 546 days of sobriety.
He had a date with Buck that night, even though they hadn’t really spoken- Bobby chalked it up to him having shifts and Buck doing whatever it was that actors do. Bobby also wasn’t really a smartphone kind of guy. But despite everything, he was still seeing Buck at 8pm sharp, this time at Buck’s place.
First, he had to get through the rest of his shift and survive more of Hen and Chim’s glances and whispers.
He sighed as he looked up from the kitchenette to see Chim whispering almost violently at Hen, who caught sight of their captain watching them and quickly elbowed her partner, effectively shutting him up.
Hen shot Bobby a smile and got up from the couch, Chimney called after her as she approached the counter.
She ignored him.
Bobby saw the glint in her eye as she came to a halt and rested her arm on the countertop. He knew this would happen sooner or later. He never should have told them the second date was happening, he was glad he hadn’t mentioned anything about the third. But they’d been conspiring against him and he’s tired.
“So,” Hen drew out. Bobby eyed her before turning his attention back to cutting vegetables. “You never told us how the date went the other night.”
She smirked at him, and wiggled her eyebrows.
“You do know that I’m your captain and it’s none of your business, right?” Bobby shot back. It didn’t phase Hen whatsoever.
“What if we think it’s affecting your work ethic?” She was still smirking as she raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Hen sighed, “You’re constantly checking your phone-”
“Not on calls!” He protested, knowing for a FACT he always waited until the scene was clear.
Hen rolled her eyes, “You’ve been spacing out more than usual.”
“I have a usual?”
“AND,” Hen bulldozed, “you’re way more reserved and quiet than you normally are.”
Bobby didn’t have anything to say to that.
When Hen spoke again it was quieter, gentler.
“Bobby, you don’t have to tell us everything, or even anything,” she reached out and grabbed his still hand, the one not still holding the knife he had stopped using.
“But you do need to tell someone, because I know there’s something holding you back from this. From love, potentially, or whatever, but still.” Bobby didn’t know what to say to that, he honestly didn’t even know how that made him feel. Reassured? Maybe, but also vulnerable? Seen gutted from the inside out?
Possibly.
“Because Bobby, there is No One I know who deserves to find love more than you,” Hen finished.
She was wrong. She didn’t know what he’d been through, so of course she would think that. But it was just… not… true. Right?
“He seems like a great guy, Cap,” and Bobby almost jumped out of his skin because when did Chimney show up next to Hen?
“Jeeze, Chim way to scare a guy with a knife!” Bobby joked, setting it down as Hen drew her hand away from his.
“Sorry, Cap,” Chimney said, not sounding at all sorry. In fact, he was smiling from ear to ear. “But I agree with Hen, you do deserve to find that special someone, Bobby. Even if you don’t believe it.”
Bobby closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to get emotional in front of them, he couldn’t. Not as their Captain.
So he nodded, and opened his eyes. Just as the fire bell went off.
_________
He bought flowers. He didn’t even know if Buck liked flowers. What if he was allergic? He was nervous. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous, but he couldn’t help it.
Buck’s house was enormous, with heavy iron gates at the foot of the driveway- as if the security gate at the entrance of the neighborhood wasn’t enough. Yeah. Bobby was way out of his league.
He almost decided to turn around when the gates opened in front of him. It was too late, he had to pull into the driveway. So he did.
Buck was there, waiting for him, a lopsided grin on his face and Bobby felt his chest tighten at the sight.
He got out of his truck, cooly grabbing the flowers and grinning back at Buck. He couldn’t help it, the other man’s smile was contagious.
As he handed Buck the flowers he definitely noticed a deep blush wash over the other man’s cheeks. Relief washed over Bobby, along with a bit of giddiness.
“Bobby, these are gorgeous, thank you.” Buck said earnestly, he ducked his head down to smell the flowers, catching Bobby’s eye from under those long blond lashes.
“Oh uh, you’re welcome,” Bobby choked out after a moment too long.
Buck’s smile widened as he lifted his head back up. Bobby couldn’t believe he was about to give this man up.
“Do you want to come inside?” Buck asked, gesturing behind him, towards the front door.
“Lead the way,” he responded.
Buck’s house was very nice, it was also very large and made Bobby’s tiny apartment seem that much smaller.
Bobby had heard of Buck before he rescued him from the fire, but he had never paid much attention to big Hollywood celebrities- especially ones nearly half his age. They were just people, and that day in the warehouse, Buck was also just a person. Except the difference between the warehouse and that night was that it’s been three dates now and he’d grown very fond of Buck’s blue eyes and birthmark. He really didn’t want them to disappear from his life.
Buck led them into an enormous, high ceiling-ed kitchen with all of the most up to date appliances and beautiful marble countertops. Bobby’s head was spinning. He’d been in nice kitchens before- it kind of came with being a firefighter in Los Angeles- but suddenly he was imagining waking up on a Sunday morning and making breakfast on the Thermador stove top with Buck.
He was getting ahead of himself. WAY ahead of himself.
“What do you think?” Buck spread out his arms.
Bobby cleared his throat, “Is that a waffle iron with your face on it?”
Buck glanced in the direction Bobby was looking and grinned, “Maybe.”
Bobby let out a fond chuckle as he inspected the iron closer. It reminded him of a Bob Ross waffle iron he’d seen in passing, but it was definitely Buck’s face.
“Where did you even get this?” Bobby asked, his fingers gently brushing over the iron.
“It was a movie wrap gift from a director I worked with a few years ago, he had it made kind of as a joke,” Buck explained. He then went into further detail about how the movie was about Bob Ross and while he ‘only played a side character’, it was one of his favorite acting projects to date.
“Does it actually work?” Bobby couldn’t help himself, he needed to know.
“Do you wanna find out?” Buck smirked and Bobby wasn’t going to say no to that face or those gorgeous eyes filled with mischief.
Buck got to work pulling out mixing bowls and a box of pre-made mix.
“Oh no,” Bobby protested as soon as he saw the box and Buck frowned in confusion. “We are Not using that,” he pointed towards the offending box. “Do you have buttermilk?”
“Buttermilk? Uh,” Buck dropped the mix and walked over to the fridge, opened it, and stuck his head inside. “Oh. Actually I do?” He said as he pulled out a small jug, squinting at the expiration date printed on the side. “And it’s still good!”
“Perfect, now we just need flour, sugar, eggs,” Buck ran around the kitchen, opening different cabinets looking for the ingredients as Bobby listed them off. Then he grabbed the measuring bowls and spoons and dumped everything onto the counter.
Buck clapped his hands together and grinned, “Let’s do this.”
Bobby felt like he was levitating when he stood next to Buck, as they worked together to make the waffles. Bobby instructed Buck on what to do - measure out the ingredients as Bobby separated the egg yolk from the egg whites. It felt so right and Bobby ached to have that all the time, it was something he missed more than he had thought.
“Y’know, I had a whole different meal planned for us tonight,” Buck admitted, scooping up the first soon to be waffle and pouring the mixture onto the iron.
Bobby set a timer, just to be safe, and said “Oh yeah?”
Buck grinned, “Yeah. I uh, don’t know how to cook so I was going to suggest take out. But uh, this has been much much better.”
Bobby dared to meet Buck’s gaze, he felt that pull that he felt in his own kitchen, but instead of following that urge he took a step back and broke eye contact. He could feel Buck frown in concern.
Was it time to tell Buck or was he going to stay in this little bubble he so thoroughly enjoyed?
The buzzer went off on the timer just as the waffle maker dinged.
Buck grabbed a plate and spatula and got to work plating the waffle as Bobby scooped another blob of waffle mix and poured it on once the device was free of the previous waffle.
“See, look at that! It’s my face!” Buck held up the plate so Bobby could see it.
“So it is!” He chuckled.
Bobby knew he had to bring the topic up soon or he wouldn’t at all. So with that in mind he set the timer and took a deep breath.
“Buck,” Bobby started and daring to meet Buck’s gaze, he looked back at him. “These past few dates have been amazing. Getting to know you, spending time with you, it’s all been very eye opening for me.” Bobby sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor.
“But there are things about me you don’t know yet, and I think when I tell you them, you might reconsider whatever it is we have going on.” He felt the nerves flare up again.
“Bobby,” Buck started, he placed a hand on Bobby’s shoulder and squeezed. Bobby looked back up at him, “whatever it is, you can tell me. This is a judgment free zone.”
Bobby nodded and the timer went off again.
They switched the waffle maker off and put the second waffle on a separate plate. Buck grabbed the first plate and the maple syrup from the fridge and gestured to Bobby with his head to follow him.
They entered the dining room where plates and silverware were already set, but Buck quickly set down his plate and the syrup and moved things out of the way so they could sit at the gigantic table.
Once seated and their waffles buttered and syrupped, they dug in. Buck moaned as he took his first bite, “Bobby these are delicious.” Bobby smiled and took a bite of his own, not able to enjoy it as much with the weight of what he needed to say still hanging in the air between them.
“Sorry, please continue what you were starting to say in the kitchen,” Buck said earnestly, placing a hand on Bobby’s leg and squeezing gently.
Bobby shook his head, “It’s a lot, Buck and I just want to be sure you’re okay to hear it.”
Buck squeezed his leg again, “I promise Bobby, whatever you say, I will listen without judgment.”
Bobby held eye contact for a long moment before taking another deep breath and then letting it go. He looked at the table, down at Buck’s uneaten face.
“The first thing you should know about me is that I’m an alcoholic, but I’m sober. A little over 18 months sober,” Bobby started. “The second thing you should know is that my wife and kids are dead- because I killed them.”
Buck is quiet.
His hand was still on Bobby’s leg and he chose that moment to squeeze, encouraging the firefighter to continue.
So he did.
Bobby told Buck everything he remembered about that night, about how it forced him back into recovery and how he will never forgive himself. And Buck listened, he didn’t say a word while Bobby was talking.
When Bobby was done, he felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, but with that came the anxiety on how Buck would react to it all. Buck had been silent so far but Bobby was almost positive the polite ‘this has been great, let’s be friends’ and never speak again thing was coming.
“Bobby, I’m so sorry for your losses, I can’t imagine ever going through something like that,” Buck started. Bobby chanced a glance in his direction and saw his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “And I’m sorry you think that you’re to blame when you were sick Bobby.”
Bobby huffed out a dry laugh and looked away from Buck, “I wish it felt that way.”
“Hey, it’s okay that it doesn’t right now,” Buck sounded so earnest and like he truly believed what he was saying. Bobby felt his chest tighten at the tone and words. Buck was wrong, it was completely Bobby’s fault, right?
“I still made the decisions I made, and I can’t go back and fix them,” Bobby argued, shaking his head.
“No, you can’t. But that doesn’t mean it has to define who you are as a person. You’re in recovery, you care about the people around you and I think you’re the kind of person who atones for their mistakes.” Buck was adamant about this.
“That’s just it Buck,” Bobby said, his little black book popped into his head. “I can never fully make atonement for what I’ve done. All the lives I’ve saved- all of it will never get rid of the fact that I killed 148 people.”
Buck was silent for a moment.
“You’re right.”
There it was.
“Bobby,” Buck grabbed his hand, “look at me, please.”
Bobby turned his head, but couldn’t meet his eye so he just looked at Buck’s forehead.
“From what you’ve told me, there were a TON of fire safety violations, is that your fault too?”
Bobby blinked, “I lived there, I should’ve inspected the building.”
“Was that your job or the job of a fire marshal?” Buck asked. “What I’m saying Bobby is that what happened was completely out of your control, I think your actions have held enough consequences.”
Bobby met Buck’s eyes, searching for any hint that he didn’t actually think that.
“You should let yourself live and be happy,” Buck said gently, reaching out and cupping Bobby’s face, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone. “You deserve it.”
They were leaning in, Bobby hadn’t noticed until just then, but he didn’t jerk away like he felt the urge to. He wondered what would happen if he just…
Buck’s lips were against his again, this time he was definitely more prepared. Buck’s other hand joined the first on his other cheek, Bobby reached up and placed a hand over his.
The kiss deepend, Bobby had no clue who deepend it, but he melted into it nonetheless. Buck tasted like maple syrup and Bobby wanted to drown in it.
After a minute the two pulled apart, resting their foreheads against the other’s.
“Stay?”
“Okay.”
_________
The next morning, Bobby woke up in the most comfortable bed he’d ever slept in, with Buck’s face pressed against his neck and the fresh hickeys that adorned it.
Bobby felt a pang of guilt for a brief moment as he thought of Marcy and the kids. He would never get over them, but looking down at the man sleeping soundly in his arms, he thinks, maybe, just maybe, he could learn to love again.