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Chapter Text

Buck’s keys clattered against the marble countertop when he threw them down haphazardly moments after walking through the door to his loft. It was late evening, sky slowly turning to dusk after a long shift at work. He slipped his bright white sneakers off next to the wall where his bike was mounted, leaving his socks on so that he could glide around on the floor like he enjoyed, never having to pick up his heavy feet, simply shuffling tiredly. He had no jacket to hang up today with it being late spring and already reaching sweltering temperatures in LA. Instead, he begrudgingly trudged up the stairs and dug through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He tugged off his button-up and tight jeans, exchanging them for his favorite pair of loose sweats, not even bothering to put a shirt on, feeling much more carefree with a bare chest.

His next step, same as every Tuesday, was stumbling back toward the kitchen and digging through the drawer of takeout menus before decided which food he was going to order in for the night. After ten minutes of contemplation, he landed on Thai. It was his favorite, after all. Buck called in the order quickly, and then he went over to his dining table, examining the camera and light fixture already set up there. He made sure his camera still had enough battery charge for at least thirty minutes of recording. He checked that the angle of the lens was correct, tested the quality of the microphone, adjusted the brightness of the artificial light. Everything was perfect.

The food arrived in fifteen minutes, and Buck’s growling stomach was eternally grateful. He tipped the delivery woman generously, sending her off with a thankful smile. Then, he un-bagged the few containers, arranging them carefully at the table in front of the camera setup. Finally, he sat down on the dining chair in a relaxed position, shoulders slumped, and one leg tucked up under the other. Buck began to eat. And talk.

It had started a little over a year ago. Buck had been lonely. So so lonely. Sure, he had Bobby and Hen and Chim at the station and who sometimes joined him for drinks or karaoke. He also had Maddie now that she’d finally left her abusive husband. But what Buck really had always longed for was someone to come home to. Someone to eat dinner with. Someone to whom he could relay all the crazy stories of his day, to help him wind down and decompress. When Abby didn’t come back, it had left a giant emptiness in Buck’s life.

Things only got more lonely when Maddie paired up with Chimney and Bobby started seeing Athena. Buck became the eternal seventh wheel to his group of friends, and he had been finding it harder and harder to accept invites when they were all going out together.

He’d tried various hobbies, attempting to keep his mind and body occupied, distracted from the aching in his heart. First cycling then hiking then painting then podcasts and reading and cooking and baking and rock climbing and even a brief stint of boxing at a nearby gym. None of it really helped though, because each activity only increased that haunted feeling Buck kept getting, like everything he did would be a hundred times more enjoyable if only there were someone there to experience it alongside him. Someone to share his life with.

Then, he stumbled upon a suggested video on YouTube one night and hatched a ridiculous idea. And that’s how MukbangsWithBuck was born.

He figured instead of eating dinner every night alone in silence, perhaps he could film himself and talk to a camera. As a firefighter, he had a never-ending supply of wild stories he could go on about while he ate, and even if the content didn’t bring in millions of viewers, he was sure at least a few people would be interested in what he had to say. So, he did quite a bit of research about filming equipment and editing software, and then with his next paycheck, he purchased a rather expensive camera and the other tech he might need for the endeavor.

His first few videos were awkward, of course. Anyone could tell that he was nervous. The flow of the stories were a bit choppy, and Buck often lost his concentration mid-sentence. He never gave specific details about where he lived or the station he worked. He would mention Cap or Hen or Chim as they were always integral to his firefighting stories, but he never divulged their full names nor his own. Still, this did not deter him from rambling about a thrilling save of a woman being strangled by her own snake, or explaining the maneuver they often performed to rescue someone from a suicide attempt, or lamenting the horror of a sinking plane crash, or chuckling ridiculously as he attempted to explain how a woman got her head stuck in a tail pipe.

His uploading was scattered and unorganized at first. He was hardly getting any views on the half-hour videos, and so he would only record them once every few weeks when he was feeling really down and needed something to cheer himself up. But then the 7.1 earthquake had happened, and it had been a hellish shift, one of which they almost ended with their team losing a member. And Buck had come home that night, made himself a grilled cheese sandwich, and sat in front of a camera and cried about almost losing Hen. He described the way he’d careened through a tilted, crumbling building with Johnson at his back, the way they’d had to risk going through an elevator shaft to save two civilians, and then he recalled the horror of hearing over the radio that his coworker and good friend had gone missing, lost somewhere in the depths of an unstable building, at risk of being buried in concrete any minute. He’d sobbed for her over each bite of grilled cheese, telling the camera how she has a beautiful wife and kid at home that would have been gutted to lose her, how she has so many friends and people in her life that wouldn’t have gotten through without her comforting presence. Finally, Buck cried for the relief he felt when he, Bobby, and Chimney had located her at last and found that she was completely uninjured and had even rescued a little girl and dog.

That video blew up the day after Buck uploaded it, and within the following week, he gained a hundred-thousand new subscribers.

So, he decided to get more organized about the hobby, setting a schedule of two regular uploads per week, and that’s how he ended up with Takeout Tuesdays and Homemade Thursdays, both of which were sort of self-explanatory. When his popularity continued to climb over the next few months, Buck then decided to add a special livestream on Sundays where he’d film from his kitchen counter as he baked some sort of dessert from scratch and answered any interesting questions his fanbase might have.

He told Maddie and the 118 about it eventually, feeling a little bashful about internet fame at first, but then realizing that it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. It was something Buck genuinely enjoyed doing, and it wasn’t hurting anyone. It was a way to encourage his cooking and baking practice, as well as helping him improve on his tech and computer skills. With each week that passed, his videos improved in quality, and he grew prouder of the content he was creating. This led to him spilling the beans over a game of poker that Maddie was hosting.

“This is probably going to sound insane to all of you,” they raised their brows as Buck went on, “but I sort of have an online presence now.”

“An online presence?” Bobby repeated, sounding completely lost as to what that meant.

“Like on Instagram?” Hen wondered.

“YouTube actually,” Buck corrected.

“You film videos?” Maddie sounded baffled, like this was something Buck definitely should have informed her about sooner.

He nodded.

“Of what?” Chimney asked around a mouthful of Doritos.

“Of myself eating…” he started, but felt at a loss of how to explain this to them all in a way they would understand without making him seem absolutely sad and pathetic.

“Is this like a fetish thing? Because I don’t want to know about it, if it is,” Hen remarked, only half teasing.

“What?! No, of course not.”

“Oh! Are they like mukbangs?” Chimney offered, and Buck smiled at his friend.

“Exactly like mukbangs! That’s actually the whole concept of the channel: MukbangsWithBuck. Basically, I make dinner, or order takeout, and then I film myself eating while also telling loads of stories about the crazy stuff that happens to us on the job.”

Bobby flashed a concerned look, and Buck hurried to assure him, “Don’t worry, I never give any specific details about our station or the personal details of everyone there.”

“That sounds really interesting, Buck,” Maddie chimed in, always the supportive big sister.

“Yeah, it does, Buckaroo. Mind if we check out your channel sometime? Or would that be weird?” Hen asked.

“Not at all. I’d love for you guys to see it and tell me what you think. That’s sort of why I brought it up. Also, the channel is getting kind of big, and I thought it might make more sense to tell everyone about it now rather than leaving you to come across it by accident on your own.”

So, he’d gained all their reassurances, and sometimes they even offered suggestions or advice of new things to try for his videos. Bobby would teach him new recipes on their shifts and mention that Buck could recreate them for his Homemade Thursdays. Hen and Chimney would remind him of cool stories that he hadn’t mentioned in past videos, so that he was never searching for something new to talk about. Maddie would gift him random home-décor items that she believed would look nice in the background of his shot. It was all so comforting, and it made Buck’s heart swell with love, pushing out the emptiness just a tad bit.

The interaction with his fans was what really kept Buck going, though. The comments would pour in with people’s fascination for the life of a firefighter, their morbid curiosity about less than pleasant things, and their disbelief at the stupidity of some of the people Buck has had to rescue. He also would get messages of solidarity from other first responders all across the country. 911 operators and police officers and paramedics and firefighters alike. It made Buck feel a sense of true community, made him feel understood, made him feel known.

His fans found him funny and charming. Sometimes, they were a little thirsty in their comments, but he mostly ignored the ones of that fashion. They would tease him when he told dumb jokes or went off on tangents about the science behind meteorites or nearly choked on his food because he got a little too excited while talking. Although he had never met any of them, he started to think of them as his family just as much as Maddie and his crew.  

Now, over a year into the channel, and he couldn’t imagine himself ever quitting his uploading. It was almost as important to him as firefighting itself, and Buck believed that his stories touched peoples lives in a similar way to when he was out there on the streets of LA saving them. He imagined there were hundreds of thousands, almost a million, people out there, just as lonely as him, just as tired of eating dinner in silence, who would press play on a new video of his and feel that same sense of family. He expressed as much, sometimes, when he was feeling particularly vulnerable on a livestream while attempting a two-tiered chocolate cake or between bites of a greasy burger and steak fries at his dining table.

He was currently finishing up the last few bites of his noodles in curry sauce and winding down the grand tale of an ice-skating show turning disastrous all because of a loose sequin. He reluctantly left out the part about Bobby being a former pairs champion in his youth, fearing it might anger his Captain if Buck shared that particular detail. He said a brief farewell, wrapping up the video. Then, he ended the recording and immediately transferred the memory chip to his laptop, wanting to get the editing process done quickly so he could get to bed and sleep tomorrow’s day away.

Buck always listened to music while he worked on his computer, playing softly in the background from the speaker of his Hildy device. He chopped up the video footage, cutting out any moments where he sat in silence for a little too long or accidentally chewed with his mouth hanging wide open. This whole process had grown a lot speedier with repetition and time. Buck was pretty sure he could edit a mukbang video with his eyes closed nowadays. Frank Ocean songs filled his ears as he made the final touches, setting a timer for the video to automatically upload at midnight his time, while he was hopefully far away in the floaty space of his dreams.

He slowly climbed the stairs of his loft once more, cursing himself for the hundredth time that he didn’t choose a single floor layout plan instead, and then he collapsed on his bed and pulled the duvet around him. His body was as weak as limp spaghetti, and his muscles ached from all the running back and forth he had performed during a three-alarm fire that day paired with an earlier call of a little girl getting stuck in a hot air balloon alone as it drifted away. He’d had to use every bit of strength he could muster to latch onto the passenger basket and pull the thing down.

But although his body was weary, Buck’s mind still raced, as it often did. He was almost positive that he had ADHD and reminded himself for the hundredth time to bring the subject up with Dr. Copeland the next time they had a session. He pulled his phone off the nightstand where he’d plugged it in to charge when he first got home, and then he clicked on his most recent video from Sunday, scrolling back through the live chat feed and reading any comments that he had missed while baking.

There were, of course, a plethora of ones about the way Buck looked in his blue apron that made him blush wildly in the darkness of his bedroom. Then, there were a few that suggested he write a cookbook. He wrinkled his nose at that. Writing was never his thing; he didn’t have the patience for it. Besides, all the recipes he used were Bobby’s, not Buck’s, and he had told his subscribers this many of times. If anyone should write a cookbook, it was Cap.

Almost an hour later, Buck had nearly made it to the end of all 6,743 comments, when he spotted one that caught his eye more than any of the others had. Some fan by the username of CaliGirl21 had asked, “Do you work with BrownEyedFirefighter? He’s in LA too.”

By this point, Buck’s fans had pieced together that he was stationed somewhere in LA. It was a little obvious from the nature of his calls involving earthquakes and palm trees and the Hollywood Hills and even that disastrous tsunami at the pier last month. However, they still had no clue which firehouse Buck actually worked at, and he planned to keep it that way.

He had no idea who this BrownEyedFirefighter channel was though. He quickly typed the name into the search bar of his YouTube app, and Buck’s eyes were greeted by a thumbnail starring a very handsome man with dark hair and soft brown eyes. His jawline was perfect, his smile beautiful. Buck clicked through to the man’s main page and scrolled through his content.

It seemed that Brown Eyes, which was what Buck would be thinking of him as until he figured out his actual name, did a combination of two sorts of videos. He mostly had education-type videos where he told his audience of useful tips in emergency situations. It seemed he came from a background of being a combat medic in the army and would give advice on how to immediately treat minor wounds until first responders could arrive on scene. He had videos about the most important information to give when calling 911, when you should give someone chest compressions and how to do them, how to create a makeshift tourniquet, the best points of exit from a building on fire, strategies for surviving an earthquake, and many other incredibly useful things for the general public to know. Despite Buck being trained with all this knowledge already, he watched every single video with rapt attention, holding onto those brown eyes as the man spoke in deep timbres.

He learned that his name was Eddie, only mentioned in passing during a video of how to get out of a car when it’s been submerged in a body of water. And Buck was pretty sure he was already in love.

What really sealed the deal, though, was the other variety of videos on Eddie’s channel. Casual vlogs in which Eddie did fun things around LA with his very adorable ten-year-old son. They would vlog while eating pancakes at some diner and then film during their entire trip to the zoo. Or Eddie would document Christopher’s weekend surfing lessons and the giant ice cream cones they’d buy at the beach. And then other times Eddie would simply vlog while he ran errands or cleaned his house. It was incredibly domestic and sweet and everything Buck had ever longed for.

He stayed up all night watching the entire backlog of videos from BrownEyedFirefighter, feeling a mixture of slightly pathetic for having a crush on this guy he’s never met, but also rather consoled by the kind, endearing nature of Eddie and his son.

A few days later, after arriving right on time for a morning shift, Buck tried to discretely ask if anyone at the 118 knew of any LA firefighters named Eddie. Unsurprisingly, his three best friends all had many questions.

“Eddie what? Does he have a last name?” Bobby pressed for more information.

“Uh, I don’t actually know his last name, nor what station he works at.”

“Is this a new love interest or something?” asked Hen.

Buck scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “Not exactly,” he said.

“How do you know this mysterious Eddie, then?”

“I don’t technically know him.”

They all gave him looks of confusion. Rather than trying to explain with his own words, Buck dug his phone out of his uniform pants and quickly looked up a random video of Eddies, pressing play on one about the dangers of smoke inhalation before presenting the screen to Hen, Bobby, and Chim. They watched for a few minutes in silence, clearly trying to wrap their heads around what was going on here.

“So, this guy also just so happens to be an LAFD member who is YouTube famous?” Chimney said to clarify.

Buck rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I’m not exactly famous, Chim… but, yeah I guess. All I really know about him is that he was a combat medic before getting into firefighting, he works somewhere in LA, and he has a son who’s in his videos sometimes. Sound familiar to anyone?”

“I think I’d know that face if I’d seen it before,” Hen told him.

“That is a beautiful man,” Chimney agreed.

“Where’s the lie? And I like girls,” Hen added.

“Now that you mention it,” Bobby cut in seriously, “about a year ago there was a new recruit that had experience as a combat medic. I tried to get him for the 118, but he ended up landing at station six. I can’t remember what the guy’s name was though.”

Buck’s blue eyes lit up with hope. “Do you think you could find out?” he inquired to Bobby, mentally cursing how desperate he probably sounded.

“What exactly are you wishing to achieve here, Buck?” Chimney pointed out.

“Yeah, please tell me you’re not turning into some sort of stalker,” came from Hen.

“No, no,” he hurried to quell them, “nothing creepy. I was simply wondering which house he’s in so that if our crews ever got put on a call together, I could make sure to introduce myself. He seems cool, that’s all.”

He was certain he managed to make his voice not sound wistful at all.

“I’ll look into it,” Cap promised as a way to end the conversation.

But a week later, this subtle sleuthing of Buck’s did not prove fruitful. Bobby explained that his request for the recruit happened so long ago that he couldn’t seem to place his name in any old paperwork. He offered to make a call over to Captain Ahuja at station six and inquire about any Eddies, but Buck was afraid that would seem too odd and raise suspicion. He told Cap not to worry about it anymore.

Instead, in the lonely walls of his empty apartment, after filming a mukbang of him eating homemade chicken parm, Buck decided it would be completely okay to actually subscribe to Eddie’s channel. Nothing strange about that at all.

Three days later, he prepared the ingredients for simple snickerdoodle cookies and started his live streaming. Friendly hellos immediately poured in, and Buck smiled fondly as he set about mixing the dry substances and mindlessly replying to comments. Just as he’d finished up arranging the dough on a cookie sheet and placing it carefully into the oven, Buck spotted another mention of BrownEyedFirefighter in the chat. Something from a random user about how hot Eddie and Buck would look as a couple.

Great. People were officially shipping them.

He went about cleaning up the counter, pretending he hadn’t read that particular comment, choosing to answer a different one about if Buck’s station has a real firepole and if they ever actually use it.

Another week went by where Buck could not stop thinking about Eddie. He’d turned on his notifications for the man’s videos, and if he wasn’t busy on a call, he would immediately watch them the moment they were posted. There was a funny vlog about Eddie’s Abuela lecturing him for being late to a family cookout last weekend, and then there was the more formal video of Eddie going into detail about the tests one has to pass while going through the LA Fire Academy.

It didn’t really matter what the content was, Buck inhaled anything the man would give him. He’d literally listen to Eddie talk about gauze for three hours if that was the sort of thing being posted on the channel. Unfortunately, the videos were only about fifteen minutes long on average, and Buck was progressively starting to feel like it wasn’t quite enough. He needed more Eddie in his life, and he wasn’t quite sure how to make that happen.

One Friday night, while slightly tipsy after having joined the crew at Maddie’s favorite karaoke spot, Buck realized that in the description for the BrownEyedFirefighter channel, there was a link to Eddie’s Instagram account. Buck immediately clicked on it.

The account was public, mostly promoting Eddie’s new videos when he uploaded them, and then there were also random selfies or cute snapshots with his son. Perhaps it was his inebriated brain that was misguiding his thinking and dimming his inhibitions, but Buck didn’t even hesitate before following the account.

He almost fell off his barstool ten minutes later when he got a notification from Instagram that Eddie had followed him back. His sip of vodka tonic went down the wrong pipe as he read over it for a second time to double-check he wasn’t imagining things. Chimney clapped him on the back with concern.

“You all right there, Buck?” his friend asked.

Buck could only nod numbly. He could not believe Eddie had followed him back, and so soon. He tried not to let it get his hopes up in any way, knowing that there were some people on social media who would instinctively follow back any accounts who followed them. It didn’t really mean anything significant. It wasn’t a sign that Eddie was secretly pining for Buck from a distance as well.

“I think I’m gonna go ahead and get a ride home,” he announced before opening the Uber app on his phone. After selecting a driver, Buck’s foggy brain instantly drifted back to Eddie, and then it sent him into a spiral of panic, thinking about what Eddie would see when looking at Buck’s Instagram page. He hastily switched back over to the app and did a frantic scroll through all his past posts, making sure there wasn’t anything too embarrassing or unflattering, just on the off chance that the brown eyed man was interested in doing some sleuthing of his own.

His uber arrived a few minutes later, and Buck bid his friends a slurred goodnight. He kept his phone in the back pocket of his jeans the entire ride home, choosing to gaze out the window instead, trying to focus on the bright lights of the LA nightscape rather than the interesting turn of events his night had taken.

He arrived home soon enough, and he chucked his keys at the counter while calling out to Hildy to play his drunk playlist (yes, he had one of those), and then he was mindlessly plugged his phone in upstairs, still in a daze, before stripping and climbing into a steaming shower. The heat and humidity worked to clear his brain, and by the time he stepped out, squeaky clean, he didn’t feel so tipsy anymore. Buck pulled on a pair of grey boxer-briefs, got situated in bed, and then took a very deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before choosing to look at Instagram once more.

To his simultaneous delight and dismay, Eddie had sent him a direct message.

Hey, you’re that other LA firefighter, right? I’ve seen your YouTube videos a few times in my suggestion feed.

So, Eddie did know of his existence. Buck wasn’t sure how he felt about this news, but it was probably somewhere in the area of frenzied glee. But also, he was terrified of the thought of having to come up with a message of his own in response.

Seven minutes of hard contemplating produced a so-so result.

Hi! Yeah, that’s me. I think we have some mutual subscribers. A few of them have mentioned your channel in my comments, and that’s how I heard of you.

You do mukbang and baking videos, right?

Yeah, I talk about the rescues our crew has done while I’m eating and whatnot.

Buck could not believe he was currently having an actual conversation with the man whom he’d been embarrassingly pining after for at least a month now.

Huh, that sounds pretty entertaining. I’ll have to check it out sometime.

Okay, so Eddie hadn’t actually watched any of Buck’s videos. That was a slight blow to the ego, but he could live with it.

Do you really go by Buck? Eddie had sent next before Buck could form a reply to the previous message.

Yeah, it’s a nickname that started when I was still in the academy. I have a pretty common first name, and it got a little confusing with some of the other recruits.

But how did you land on Buck for a nickname? Lol

Buck cringed, trying to decide how much he should actually give away to the person who was technically a stranger.

It’s actually a shortened version of my last name. It just kind of came about naturally.

Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. That actually makes a lot of sense. Eddie is a nickname as well.

Short for Edward? Edmund? Eduardo?

Ha! Thankfully none of those. Edmundo. But I highly prefer Eddie. Only a few people in my family still call me Edmundo.

Good to know. How long have you been a firefighter, Eddie?

Just over a year now. I started the academy right after moving to LA.

You’re not from Cali?

Nope. Texas born.

Buck paused his typing as he tried to imagine the man from the videos with a large shiny belt buckle and a ten-gallon hat. The two notions did not intercept naturally.

A cowboy?! I’m shocked.

Hardly. What about you? Born and raised in Los Angeles?

No. Grew up in Pennsylvania. Moved around a lot after dropping out of college, and then I ended up here in 2016. Sort of fell into firefighting by accident and then loved it so much I could no longer imagine myself doing anything else.

I know the feeling. There’s nothing better than saving people’s lives on a daily basis.

Buck smiled to himself. A giddiness had washed over him in splendid waves. They were talking, getting to know each other, possibly becoming acquaintances or maybe friends. This was better than anything he could have hoped for.

I’m guessing you were here for the tsunami then? Did your crew have to work it?

Yeah, we were stationed more on the outskirts, wrangling wandering survivors and directing them to the field hospitals. We didn’t actually go out on the rescue boats. Did you?

Yeah, I just recently uploaded a video about it a couple weeks ago if you’re interested in hearing some of my stories from that day. We saw some pretty gruesome stuff. Almost got crushed by the pier Ferris wheel getting pushed over in the backwash.

Damn. Was everyone on your team okay?

Oh yeah, all good. But it definitely made for a long shift.

I remember. My son was pissed at me that I didn’t make it home in time to tuck him into bed that night.

Buck’s heart swelled again, picturing the adorable scene of Eddie reading his son a bedtime story.

Awe, that sucks. But it’s also really sweet that you guys are so strict about bedtime routines.

Chris takes it very seriously. And perfect story selection is of the utmost importance. There’s no chance of getting him to sleep if the book is less than satisfactory.

Haha, he sounds like a great kid.

One hundred percent. What about you? Have a family of your own?

Buck frowned, reluctantly typing out the pathetic state of his loneliness.

Just me at the moment. No significant other. No kids. My firehouse is my family. And my sister.

That must be nice. I work well with my crew, and we get along, but there’s no hanging out after shifts or anything like that. I’ve been in LA over a year now and haven’t really met anyone that I could call an actual friend. It’s sort of lonely sometimes, but I’m thankful to have Christopher and my Abuela and other members of my family that live close by.

Buck hesitated for a moment, trying to decide between brushing the heaviness of the conversation off with a dumb joke or allowing himself to be a little vulnerable.

Trust me, I know all about being lonely. Although my crew does get drinks after work sometimes and we have poker nights and birthday parties, I’m literally the only one at the 118 that isn’t partnered up. It’s always a little sad being around everyone and their spouses while I’m eternally the single guy.

And I’m guessing you’ve had no luck dating around here? I’ve had a few people try to pass me their phone numbers on calls, but I’m honestly a little terrified of the whole dating scene. It’s a little pathetic.

Is Christopher’s mother no longer in the picture?

Buck hoped the question wasn’t too personal.

No. We divorced a few years back when we still lived in Texas. She actually lives in LA too now, visits Chris every once in a while, but I have full custody.

Also, the 118 huh? That’s your house?

Buck’s eyes widened at the realization of what he’d accidentally sent. He hadn’t meant to let Eddie know his station number so soon into their getting to know each other.

Shit. Yeah, I didn’t exactly intend to reveal that, but I guess there’s not much harm in you knowing. As long as you promise not to reveal it publicly on my Instagram or YouTube comments.

No worries, Buck. I’m not gonna dox you or anything. And I promise I won’t track you down in person like a creep. Lol

I’m at station six, btw.

Oh! I actually think my Captain tried to get you for our house when you first came through the academy. I remember him mentioning something about a former combat medic who landed at station six.

You know I used to be a combat medic? So you have watched a lot of my videos, then…

A few, yeah. Buck wasn’t sure if the message came off as nonchalant as he was intending.

I guess I’ll have to do some research of my own then, see what I can learn from these mukbangs of yours.

Help yourself :)

Was that too flirty? Buck groaned. He could already tell that this man was going to have his anxiety skyrocketing day in and day out.

Will do ;)

Buck swooned a little, feeling dizzy, but from the alcohol still in his system or from Eddie’s message, he wasn’t quite sure.

It’s getting pretty late and I have an early shift tomorrow. I should probably get off.

Okay, no problem. It was great talking to you, Eddie. Maybe we could do this again sometime?

Surely that didn’t come off as too desperate.

You too, Buck. And I’d really like that. Message me anytime, and I’ll reply if I can :)

In the morning, Buck was sure he’d find that this had all been a fantastical dream. There was no way this was his real life.

Chapter Text

Eddie woke up with a new feeling in his chest. Or, it wasn’t exactly new, but long forgotten. One that belonged to an Eddie from another lifetime, before Christopher had been born, when he had only just met Shannon and was thrilled at the prospect of getting to know her and possibly falling in love. He’d almost forgotten such a feeling existed, that nervous euphoria at the prospect of meeting someone new, dating, possibly finding a forever kind of thing. It was here now though, and all it had taken was a random message to some guy Eddie had never even met.

Sure he’d seen Buck’s face in thumbnails on his suggested video feed dozens of times, and of course, he’d immediately noted the man’s attractiveness, but for some reason, there had always been something keeping Eddie from actually watching one.

He’d know that face anywhere now though, which is why he’d recognized it immediately on Buck’s account when he followed Eddie’s Instagram last night. He’d been surprised, but then he quickly checked his YouTube subscribers to find that Buck was apparently a fan of his videos. Eddie had buried the butterflies in his gut and gathered the nerve to follow Buck back and then send him a direct message to hopefully get a conversation going.

Eddie wasn’t sure what he had wished to achieve with the message. It was just that he didn’t really have any friends outside of family in LA. His coworkers were merely that, not lifetime best buddy quality. And then there was the fact that Eddie couldn’t deny the desire that swirled around inside of him as he scrolled through an infinite number of shirtless selfies on Buck’s page. Ones of him exercising or hiking or lounging on the beach. Every so often, Eddie even found a full-length pose that perfectly captured the impressive length of Buck’s legs. He figured the man must have at least a couple inches on Eddie.  

So, he’d sent Buck a casual message, and Eddie grinned now to think of how that one message had swiftly turned into effortless conversation between the two of them. It was strange how easy he found it to talk to Buck, despite not even knowing him by anything more than his nickname. They obviously had loads in common because of their jobs, but it also seemed their sense of humor might be well matched, and then there was the way they’d bonded over mutual loneliness.

Eddie tried to dilute the amount of excitement that was building in him over this new acquaintanceship. There was a chance Buck was straight, after all. But even if Buck never wanted to pursue dating with him, Eddie thought he might still be perfectly content to be friends with the man. Really, as long Buck didn’t turn out to be a psychopath or something, it was a win/win situation.

He glanced at his clock. Two minutes before time to get up and get Christopher fed before Carla arrived and Eddie had to head to work. This meant he had no time to start watching Buck’s videos, which he was absolutely desperate to do now. He groaned and rolled out of bed, padding across the hall to his son’s bedroom.

“Wake up, buddy,” he mumbled, loud enough to do the trick, but gentle enough not to startle him.

Once Christopher’s bleary eyes were blinking up at him, Eddie offered his hand to help the kid up, and then they quickly did their exercises together before marching down the hallway and gathering at the table for large bowls of sugary cereal. It was a weekend, and Eddie really didn’t have the energy for making anything more elaborate.

Carla arrived right on time, and Eddie jogged to the bathroom to take a quick shower before packing his work duffel. Giving Chris a kiss to the head and Carla a wave, he sprinted out the door, already running slightly behind, which was standard for him. Being a single parent was hard, even with Carla’s help.

He held a tiny sliver of hope that he might get some downtime that day to watch a few of Buck’s uploads with his headphones on in the bunkroom, but in accordance with Eddie’s bad luck, their shift was littered with nonsense calls, and he barely had time to eat or nap at any point. He contemplated sending Buck another message while they were riding in the truck between incidents, but he didn’t want to come off as too eager. He figured it had been Eddie who messaged first yesterday, so it was now Buck’s turn to initiate the conversation.

Still, he couldn’t help being insanely curious about the man.

“Hey, Cap?” he prompted Neysa, or Captain Ahuja.

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“What do you know about station 118?” he inquired innocently.

She swiveled her head from where she was riding in the front of the truck and narrowed her eyes at him. “Not looking to transfer, are you?”

Eddie’s brown eyes widened, realizing how his question must have come off. “Of course not! I was just curious if you knew anyone from that house… I uh, heard a rumor about one of the guys there.”

“About the rebar through the skull?” she supplied, and Eddie took it as his out, pretending to know exactly what she was referring to. “Yeah, Firefighter Han got real lucky on that one.”

Eddie figured it couldn’t be Buck she was referring to. “Han” definitely did not have the word “buck” in any part of it.

“Uh, how exactly did that happen?” he pressed her for more details.

“Got rear-ended and pushed right into the back of another truck, rebar went straight through his head, was completely coherent through the entire thing, and somehow made it out of surgery without any sort of brain damage. Went back to work in a month’s time. It was pretty wild.”

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. He made a note to ask Buck about this when they did finally talk again.

“Bobby is a pretty great guy,” she went on, “I’ve heard praises all around for the way he leads his team.”

When Eddie gave her a puzzled look through the reflection in the rearview mirror, she clarified, “Captain Nash. He moved here from Minnesota a while back. Much better than his predecessor at the 118.”

Eddie knew that wasn’t Buck she was referring to either.

“Know of anyone else on their crew?”

“Wilson is a pretty impressive paramedic. I tried to have her placed with us when she finished her courses, but I think the LAFD figured there were already too many women at this house, what with the grand total of four including myself. I can’t imagine how male-heavy the 118 must have been to feel the need to send her there.”

That was pretty fucked up, Eddie thought. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it was sometimes for the women on this career path.

Before he could interrogate further about Buck’s station, however, they arrived on scene at a pretty bad car wreck involving five different vehicles. Eddie carefully compartmentalized his personal emotions and went about doing his job and doing it well.

It was only the following morning, when Eddie had at last arrived home after a dreadful night of running all across Los Angeles, that he let himself curl into bed and binge watch four different mukbang videos. They were a half-hour each, so he couldn’t watch more than that before needing to get some rest, but what he did watch was incredibly interesting and made him gnaw on his lip happily like a schoolgirl with a crush.

He’d decided to watch them chronologically, starting at Buck’s very first upload over a year ago. It appeared that the two men had started their channels within mere months of each other. Buck’s first video was dated from when Eddie was in the academy, just after his move, and then Eddie’s first video had been posted when he’d been on the job a couple of months and felt more comfortable in his knowledge and position.

Those first four videos seemed a little awkward, but Buck was really cute in them, telling funny stories of dumb things he and his friends had gotten up to at the station. He’d blush every once in a while when he stumbled over his words, or he’d look into the camera bashfully when he accidentally dribbled food down his chin while eating.

And after those four, poorly produced videos, Eddie was already so gone for this man. He couldn’t help himself. Buck seemed incredibly charming and kind. He was like a ray of sunshine or a literal golden retriever in the body of an over-six-foot buff guy. It did things to Eddie’s mind, and body, that he simply could not control.

Alas, he had to get some sleep while Christopher was still at his Abuela’s where Carla had kindly dropped him off the night before, so he forced himself to put his phone down and shut his eyes.

Five hours later, he woke to the sound of youthful laughter coming from his living room. He rubbed his eyes and willed his exhausted body to get up. He knew Abuela must have let herself in with the spare key to return Chris home so that Eddie didn’t need to drive over and pick him up. He appreciated that woman to no end.

“Dad!” Christopher exclaimed joyfully before running at his dad and wrapping a tight grip around the man’s legs once Eddie had made it into the hallway.

“Hey, mijo. Did you have a good day yesterday and a good night last night?”

His son simply nodded before running off again to play with the Legos scattered across their living room floor.

“How was work, nieto?” Abuela asked as she came over and gave him a hug of her own.

“Long. Exhausting,” Eddie complained without further explanation.

She gave him a sympathetic look before gathering her purse and slipping her sandals back on from where they rested at the front door.

“I hate to leave so soon, but I’ve got lunch with Dorris and then my gardening club meeting is this evening. I’m sorry I can’t stay, Eddito.”

“Abuela,” he chastised her softly, “don’t you sweat it for even a minute. You’re already here for me and Chris more than anyone else. We completely understand that you have a life of your own too.”

She patted his cheek fondly before giving Christopher a hug and heading out the door.

Eddie returned to his bedroom briefly to snatch his phone from where it had disappeared under his pillow, and then he stretched out on the couch, content to be lazy a little longer and simply listen to the sounds of his son playing.

He immediately checked Instagram for the hundredth time in the last two days, but this time he was granted with the very thing he’d been anticipating: Buck had messaged him.

Hope your shift went okay! I hate working the weekends.

Eddie truly tried to still the rapid beating of his heart, but it was ultimately pointless.

Doesn’t everyone? And it was pretty exhausting, but nothing too dangerous on my crew’s part, so that’s really all you can ask for.

Uh, oh. Did someone say the q word?

Eddie pinched his brow in confusion, trying to figure out what the heck Buck was talking about.

The q word?

You know, starts with a q, synonym for silent, soundless, etc. I’m scared to even type the word while I’m at the station. I don’t think Hen and Chim have ever forgiven me for what happened last time I made the mistake of uttering it.

Quiet? You’re not allowed to say that word at work? Why?

Surely you’ve learned about the jinx by now? I accidentally said it in reference to a dishwasher when I was still a probie. We got 37 calls in one shift after that.

37, Eddie!!!! Can you imagine?????

Eddie actually laughed out loud at Buck’s dramatics.

You’re telling me you seriously believe in jinxes? Think ghosts and werewolves are real too, Buck?

Maybe not werewolves, but it’s scientifically proven that the full moon does cause people to do strange things.

Eddie snorted. Christopher shot him a quizzical look before returning to the construction of his Lego jet plane.

I honestly don’t even know where to begin with that sentence. Please tell me you’re not a “flat earther” as well.

God no! Is that really what you think of me, Eddie? I’m highly offended. (sarcastic)

Just making sure I didn’t need to ghost you already.

Is that something you plan on doing in the future?

I get the feeling I wouldn’t ever be able to resist talking to you, Buck.

Eddie balked at his own boldness, wondering where it had come from. He hoped the flirtation in his text wouldn’t immediately put Buck off.

Good. I’ve been ghosted before, and it really fucking sucked. I’m not eager to repeat the experience.

Damn. An ex? Want to talk about it?

Meh, not really. Maybe some other time if you’re willing to listen.

Of course. Anytime, Buck.

So, did you watch any of my videos yet?

I did. Your first four. I would have done more, but that was all I’ve had time for this weekend. Your stories are really funny :)

It took longer for Buck to reply this time, and Eddie guessed that he might have been going back to look at which videos Eddie was talking about, refreshing his memories.

You started with the oldest ones?! Why would you do that, Eddie?! I’m literally cringing in embarrassment! They’re so bad! I’ve been considering deleting the ones I uploaded before I got serious about the channel.

What? They weren’t bad at all! I think you’re being a little too self-critical there, Buck. And please don’t delete them. I really enjoyed them.

Sounds fake, but okay.

Eddie chuckled again.

Thanks though :D That’s really sweet of you to say. Any chance you’ll be checking out my livestream this evening?

What time do you go live?

7 pm. I’m baking toffee crunch brownies.

Those sound delicious. Christopher and I both love anything with toffee.

Maybe you should try making them too? I can send you the recipe to see if you have all the ingredients.

Eddie contemplated it for a moment. He didn’t really have anything else planned for the evening, and it did sound kind of fun to watch Buck’s livestream baking while Eddie attempted to recreate the dessert with Christopher. But there was a glaring issue.

Buck, I cannot emphasis this enough

I am terrible in the kitchen.

Cooking, baking, boiling water. It’s all a disaster. Chris will barely eat the eggs and toast I cook him for breakfast. You should know this if you’ve seen any of my vlogs.

Actual tears are streaming down my face from laughing so hard. I swear to god, you’re killing me, Eds.

Eds, huh?

Yep. That’s your new nickname, I’ve just decided. Also, it doesn’t matter what the brownies turn out like, it’s more about the fun you have while baking them :)

Eddie really couldn’t believe this man was real. Two days in, and he could already tell that Buck was someone he would want in his life forever.

Maybe the 118 will respond to the fire I end up starting at my house?

Ha. Ha. I’ll make sure to leave a warning with B crew about the sassy man who starts kitchen fires with nothing but a pot of water. But in all seriousness… see me tonight?

Eddie grinned that stupid schoolgirl grin again.

Okay, yeah. Chris and I will see you tonight Buck. Better not do anything stupid while livestreaming.

Thanks. (sarcastic)

I totally needed that pressure. Jerk.

No problem.

Gotta run! Cap’s making me roll up firehoses before the end of my shift *groans*

Have fun!

The next few hours passed by slowly for Eddie. After scrolling through the recipe Buck had sent him, he’d gathered Christopher into his truck and made a grocery story run. It had meant to be quick, but they’d ended up spending far too long in the frozen section debating the quality of each of the different brands of chicken nuggets. Chris’ preferred choice won out in the end, obviously, and then they were returning home to put all the food away and eat a couple of quick sandwiches while settled on the couch in front of a marathon of cartoons.

As seven o’clock drew nearer, Eddie felt any anxiety overcome him, which was absolutely ridiculous considering he would be watching Buck, not Buck watching him. Eddie would be perfectly free to ruin as many brownies as he liked in the privacy of his home without Buck being any the wiser. Still, it almost felt like a date. It was a time they’d scheduled to spend together in a way. He wondered if Buck would be thinking of him throughout the entire stream.

“What’s that?” his son asked when Eddie propped his phone up on the kitchen counter and clicked onto Buck’s feed.

“Uh, it’s a fellow firefighter. He posts baking videos. He’s gonna make the same brownies we’re about to make.”

Christopher scrunched up his face, still slightly confused. “You work with him?” He was clearly trying to remember if he’d seen Buck’s face any of the times he’d came by the station with Carla.

“Not exactly, buddy. He works at a different station. But he makes videos on YouTube about being a firefighter, just like we do.”

Chris’ face lit up at that. He really did enjoy being in the vlogs Eddie sometimes posted, and he was always thinking up good questions for Eddie to answer in his informational videos. He could tell that his son was just as proud of him for the channel as he was for Eddie being a firefighter. It warmed his heart.

“Good evening everyone!” Buck’s voice startled them, coming through his phone. Eddie watched with interest as the man tied on a pale blue apron, perfectly matching his eyes. Dios, help him.

Eddie instructed Christopher on what he read as the first few steps of the recipe, letting his son feel the independence of doing things by himself and simply standing next to his phone, listening to Buck reply to the first wave of comments in the chat, making casual greetings and expressing excitement for the dessert he would be baking.

“Question from moon_struck91: What would you do if you weren’t a firefighter?” Buck read as he squinted a bit at his screen. “Hmm, that’s a good one. Honestly, I don’t really know. I never had a plan for my life before this. And now that I’m a firefighter, it’s the only thing I ever want to do. It’s sort of my entire life. I don’t know who I’d be without it. Now,” he abruptly changed the subject with a clap of his hands, “let’s get to work on these dry ingredients.” And then he was rambling about the importance of the order in which one mixed things while baking, and Eddie supposed he should check to see if Chris was indeed following that proper order.

By the end of the hour, Eddie wasn’t sure how he would ever be able to go on with his life without thinking about Buck every waking moment. There had even been an interesting moment where someone commented asking if Buck knew of Eddie’s channel, and the man had simply chose to wink at the camera rather than giving a real answer. It had immediately caused Eddie’s entire body to grow heated, made worse by the proximity to the oven, and he imagined that that wink had been specifically for him. He’d play it over and over again in his mind for the rest of eternity.

After tasting the fruits of their labors, Eddie closed out of YouTube and then hurried Chris off to the bath, making sure his son got to sleep at a decent hour before school the next morning. He wasn’t surprised to get a message from Buck this time.

So? How’d the brownies turn out?

Mildly edible. And that’s the best thing I can say about them.

Definitely not as pretty as yours either.

Oh, Eds. We’ll make a baker out of you yet. Just give it time.

I made Chris do most of the work, so really, I’m not at fault here.

Using your son as the fall guy? Shameful.

In all seriousness, we actually had a really good time baking them. I haven’t seen Chris laugh so hard in a while. Maybe we’ll start filming baking vlogs of our own.

You totally should. I’m sure they’d be a hit. Especially when the firefighter has to get rescued from starting a fire in his own house.

Okay maybe we should stop willing that hypothetical into existence. I really don’t need my house to burn down anytime soon.

Hey, you said it first. But anyway, that was really fun, Eddie. Like I know I couldn’t see you, but it just made me really happy to know we were doing something together, you know?

Yeah, I do know. I felt the same way, Buck.

Good :)

Good :)

That was the night that sort of snowballed the intensity of their friendship/flirtation. After that, they never went a single day without messaging each other. In between calls on shifts, they’d send each other stupid memes or random gripes. They’d wish each other good morning as soon as their eyes opened, and always goodnight before closing them. Eddie quickly made his way through every video in Buck’s library, fascinated by all the insane things his station had been through. Eddie’s days at work seemed pretty tame in comparison.

He learned that Buck’s real name was Evan Buckley, and Eddie tried his very best not to go asking about him to Captain Ahuja again, deciding it was better to learn about each other firsthand rather than chasing hearsay. He told Buck about some of the members of station six that Eddie was closest with, and in turn, Eddie discovered that Chimney was the Firefighter Han who had his skull pierced by rebar and that Hen was the fantastic paramedic that Neysa had tried to recruit to Eddie’s station. These two seemed to be Buck’s closest friends, as well as his captain, Bobby. And apparently, Chimney was even dating Buck’s older sister Maddie. They seemed like a very tight-knit group. Eddie slightly envied him for that. He wondered what it would have been like if he’d ended up at the 118 instead.

They also spent many of their conversations bouncing video ideas off each other. Buck would ask Eddie for food suggestions for some of his mukbang dinners, and Eddie would poke Buck’s mind for any important emergency tips he hadn’t managed to cover yet.

Eventually, they broached the touchy subject of exes, Buck telling him about the woman who ghosted him, Abby, and Eddie describing the nightmare that was his marriage with Shannon.

A month went by, and there seemed no end in sight. Eddie couldn’t even remember what his busy days were like before the pings of Buck’s messages were woven in between his work schedule and other activities. Buck was always there, in teasing words and fun facts, in caring checkups and well wishes. He was a presence that Eddie was quickly growing dependent on.

Please tell me you did not actually tempt the EMS gods by posting that video?!

What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Edmundo?!!!!!

He received that one mid vlog while he and Christopher were at the aquarium one day. He hadn’t been surprised in the slightest, simply rolling his eyes as he glanced at his phone. A scheduled video had gone up that morning, one Eddie had filmed and edited days before, in which Eddie discussed the superstitions of firefighters and paramedics and how many believed it was forbidden to ever say the word “quiet” in a firehouse. Apparently, Buck didn’t find it too humorous.

I dare you to play it at work.

Absolutely not! You say the q word AT LEAST seventeen times in it. I counted!

I genuinely feel sorry for your crew. The universe is for sure gonna be out to get you guys now.

As I’ve mentioned many times before: YOU. ARE. A. DRAMA. QUEEN.

Bite me.

Maybe ;)

Three months into their undefined relationship, Buck made the disastrous mistake of commenting on one of Eddie’s videos. Eddie had sighed in exasperation as soon as he saw it.

Now you’ve done it.

What? I promise whatever it is, I most certainly did not do it.

Buck, why did you feel the need to leave a comment?

I wanted Christopher to know that his science project looked really cool. I didn’t know that was a crime, Eddie!

You could have simply said that in a message to me! Now that the fans know we interact, there’s going to be constant remarks and questions about it on both of our channels.

You worry too much. It will be fine.

It most certainly was not fine. Eddie could barely scroll through his comment section anymore without his face flaming at all the suggestive comments about he and Buck getting together. People really, really believed the two of them were perfect for each other and would make a great couple. If he didn’t have the fattest crush in the world on Buck already, Eddie was sure he would have been able to overlook it, but instead it was a constant reminder that he was perpetually at a loss of how to transition their relationship from what it was now into something more.  

Five months into their Instagram messages, and Buck finally suggested they exchange phone numbers so that they could text easier that way and possibly share an occasional phone call when they both had downtime.

And Eddie would be lying if he said that the way Buck’s voice sounded all gravelly and tired before he fell asleep wasn’t his new favorite thing in the entire world.

“Have you seen the news reports about those bombings?” Buck mumbled into Eddie’s ear as they both lay in their respective beds, separated by the width of a city, yet so close all the time.

“Yeah, it’s pretty scary. I’ve lectured Christopher at least five times this past week about making sure not to pick up any packages left on our doorstep. I’m hoping the repetition will really make it stick.”

“He’s a smart kid. I’m sure if anything like that happens at yours, he’ll know better than to pick it up.”

“Let’s hope. Do you know if they’re any closer to figuring out who did it?”

“I’m not sure, but it all feels so close to home these days. A bomb was left on the doorstep of Bobby’s house yesterday morning. His stepson almost grabbed it without knowing. Thankfully, Harry’s dad Michael stopped the boy before he got too close. Nobody was injured, but it rattled Bobby and Athena pretty bad.”

“Do you think they’re being targeted? Or does it seem random to you?”

He heard Buck’s weary sigh. “I’m not sure, Eds, but I hope all of this is over very soon.”

The week that followed was swamped for both of them. Eddie saddened at the meager few moments they found to text or call each other. He even took to sending Buck selfies of Eddie’s frowny face to emphasize how much it was bumming him out. It did cheer him up each time, though, when Buck would send him a selfie right back with a bright grin on his face, persistently committed to being the light in Eddie’s dark days.

He so longed for the weekend, of which he would have an entire three days off. He even planned to let Chris skip school on Friday so the two of them would have plenty of much needed bonding time. Buck had to work until Sunday, but he promised to call Eddie when he could.

When Friday came, he spent the morning hastily filming an educational video on the three degrees of burns and how to approach each one, and then took an excited Chris to the hardware store so that Eddie could gather the supplies to build the boy his very own playset in their backyard. He vlogged the process, only getting a quarter of the way through the construction, Christopher running about happily in the grass as he worked, before the sun went down.

As he tucked into bed that night, he pensively noted the lack of messages from Buck. They must have been having a busy shift. He’d check in on him in the morning.

Saturday, Eddie woke up and sent out a good morning text first thing. When it wasn’t immediately answered, he pushed the disappointment from his mind and got up to make Christopher some frozen waffles.

But hours later, the sight of no reply from Buck made Eddie’s heart sink. He knew the man should be off shift by now, and he supposed he might have fallen asleep before texting Eddie back, but that wasn’t really like Buck. He always made sure to respond before passing out.

Christopher had another surfing lesson scheduled that afternoon, and Eddie really made his best effort to focus fully on his son, but he couldn’t ignore the pit of worry forming in his gut. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Another night passed without so much of a word from his friend.

A part of Eddie had immediately jumped to conclusions, thinking maybe Buck had grown tired of their constant contact, deciding to ghost Eddie just like Abby had done to him. But even though they’d never met in person, Eddie genuinely felt that he knew Buck well, and that just didn’t seem like something the man would ever do to him.

Eddie ran through other scenarios in his head. A broken phone? A family emergency? There were boundless explanations, but none of them made him any less concerned. Surely, no matter what happened, Buck would find a way to get in touch with him. Surely Eddie was that important to him now.

But worst of all, Eddie imagined the one scenario where Buck would have absolutely no way of contacting him. What if Buck was dead?

He sent him a few more texts, things like Hope you’re doing okay. and I’d love to hear from you., but they all echoed into the silence that now was their text conversation.

On Monday morning, as Eddie prepared his work bag, he vowed that if he hadn’t heard from Buck by the end of his shift, he’d head over to the 118 and inquire about him. He was sure he’d seem a little insane, but Eddie needed to do it if for nothing more than peace of mind.

“Good morning, Cap!” he called out as he marched into station six a minute late.

“Good to see you, Diaz. Have a nice weekend off?”

Eddie fought the urge to lament about the mysterious disappearance of his online friend. “Uh, yeah. It was pretty good. Built my son a play set in the backyard.”

“Awe,” Smith chimed in from the lounge area, “father of the year over here!”

Eddie shrugged him off.

Bennett arrived next, always a smidge later to shifts than Eddie. “Did you guys see the news Friday night?” he asked without greetings.

“Yeah, it was absolutely heartbreaking,” Neysa answered, “I reached out to Bobby on Saturday morning. They’re all pretty shaken by it.”

Eddie’s heart froze, a slow panic setting over him. “Bobby? From the 118? Did something happen with them on Friday?”

“Dude,” that was Smith again, “were you under a rock all weekend? Don’t you watch the news at all?”

“I try not to when I’m spending time with my kid,” Eddie snapped, “now somebody please tell me what the hell happened with the 118.”

“That crazy bomber guy blew up one of their trucks,” Bennet filled him in.

Eddie could barely hear it over the fierce rushing of blood in his ears. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“That’s not even the worst part though,” he continued before Eddie could press for more details, “one of their crew members ended up with his leg trapped under the engine, was stuck there for a while during the time that the police tried to negotiate with the suicide bomber. They eventually got him out with a bunch of help from the crowd, but his leg looked pretty crushed. I doubt he’ll ever recover enough to be a firefighter again.”

“Who was it?” Eddie could hear the desperate grief in his own voice. He knew it was horrible of him, but he prayed that they would say any other name than Buck’s.

“Firefighter Buckley,” Captain Ahuja supplied.

Eddie abruptly turned away from them, running to the restrooms and vomiting up the granola bar he’d had for breakfast. He wiped his mouth, rinsing it out with water, and then he locked himself in there, pulling out his phone and googling the news reel from Friday night.

His horror was only intensified when the video played, and Eddie watched Buck’s bloody face contort in agony as people worked frantically to get the truck off of him. They’d covered up the sounds of his screams with the talking of the reporter, describing the harrowing situation, but Eddie could hear them in his head, echoing hauntingly. He turned back to the toilet and hurled once more, this time an empty dry heave, but sickening none the less. He wasn’t sure how he would get through this shift when all he could think about was Buck in some hospital bed, probably unconscious, and possibly missing his left leg.

Chapter Text

Buck had been drifting in and out of consciousness for ages now. He’d woken up from surgery pretty easily, with Maddie telling him it was Saturday morning. His first instinct had been to reach for his left leg, feeling the biggest relief of his life when he saw it there, all casted up. Buck wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive losing it. That would have changed everything about his world.

The pain killers they had him on made him incredibly drowsy, so once he had peace of mind knowing both legs were still attached to his body, Buck let his eyelids droop heavy and lost himself in sleep once more. Thankfully, the drugs made his brain too sluggish to produce any real dreams. He was sure he would have had nightmares about still being pinned if not for the medicine.

He vaguely remembered appearances from Bobby and Athena looking so unbearably regretful. Buck managed to mutter a “stop blaming yourself” before dozing off again. Chimney was there often at Maddie’s side. Buck got tired of seeing their pitying faces after a while, plus he knew his sister needed rest, so he begged them to go home and not come back until the next day. Hen showed up too, telling him how glad she was that Buck was okay, how scared she’d been there for a minute, holding his hand while he was still trapped. He winced at the memory, knowing it would be something to haunt him for the rest of his days.

It wasn’t until Monday that Buck felt fully coherent enough to sit up in his hospital bed and eat some bland food. Maddie returned for the third time, telling him she’d have to go back to work the next day, and he was honestly glad for it. He already felt guilty enough having his sister worry over him so much, and the last thing he wanted was to keep her from her job for too long.

“Have you seen my phone?” Buck finally had the brain power to ask a little after noon that day.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I should have brought it with me today. They collected it from the scene after getting you out of there. The screen is pretty cracked, but it still turns on and stuff. I had it charging at the house.”

“Do you think you could bring it next time you stop by? I’m sure I’ve got a bunch of missed notifications from my channel and everything.”

“Yeah, it was blowing up quite a bit. You also were getting a bunch of texts from someone named Eddie? But don’t worry, I didn’t read them or anything.”

Buck let his head fall back into the stiff hospital pillow with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Who’s Eddie?” Maddie asked with a smirk on her face.

“A friend…”

She gave him a knowing look. “A boyfriend, perhaps?”

“I wish,” Buck mumbled.

“How’d you meet him?”

“YouTube.”

She tilted her head in that disapproving way. “Buck, what have I told you about meeting up with strangers from the internet. You of all people should know about catfishing.”

“Eddie isn’t catfishing me, Mads. He’s an LA firefighter too, and he has his own channel, just like me. We actually have a ton of stuff in common. It’s not like I’m talking with some mystery guy from Russia or something, geez.”

“So you’ve met him in person?”

“We hadn’t quite gotten to that yet. We were working up to it… and then this happened,” he said while gesturing to his bad leg, “and now he probably thinks I’ve ghosted him because that man never watches the news. I doubt he has any idea what’s happened to me.”

Her face shifted from the slight judgement to one of sympathy. She patted Buck’s right leg in a gesture of comfort. “Well, Chim goes into the station late this evening for an overnight shift. I could have him drop the phone off on his way so that you can reassure your loverboy that you’re not going anywhere.”

Buck rolled his eyes with annoyance at her teasing but thanked her anyway. Maddie left not long after that, and Buck was already dying of boredom with not having his phone and being completely uninterested in the three channels the TV in his room had to offer. Out of lack of other desirable options, Buck closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

It was 11 pm the next time he was jostled awake. Chimney was standing over him, holding out Buck’s badly beaten cellphone. He’d have to get the screen replaced the second he got discharged from the hospital. It was barely usable. His friend didn’t stay long, calling out a goodbye to Buck before disappearing, probably already late for his shift.

Buck read all the messages from Eddie first thing. They’d started out normal with the usual good morning’s and goodnight’s the two of them had been exchanging over the past six months now, but then they’d grown progressively concerned in nature when Buck continued to not respond. The very last text, sent early that same morning, was the gut punch though.

I just heard what happened on Friday night from my crew. Fuck, I’m so sorry Buck. I can’t believe that happened to you. I’m here if you need anything though. Anytime. Night or day. Always.

Buck knew Eddie was probably sick with worry over him. Sure, they weren’t dating or anything, but they’d easily become best friends in half a year, and they were both important fixtures in each other’s lives. So, he wanted to text Eddie back, to reassure him that all was well.

… but Buck didn’t really feel like all was well at the moment. He felt broken, crushed. He supposed he should be jumping with joy that the surgeons had managed to save his leg, but the thought of a rod and screws and who knows what else being the only thing holding the limb together, the thought of trying to walk and run and fight fires on such a shattered mess, it all made Buck pretty nauseous.

He couldn’t figure out how to put all this into words for Eddie, so he procrastinated, deciding to wait until the morning to text him instead. It was pretty late, after all.

Buck squirmed uncomfortably in the bed, wanting to roll onto his side but not being able to by the way his leg was propped up. That left him staring at the white ceiling tiles as tears poured out of the corners of his eyes and streamed hotly down the sides of his face.

The Tuesday morning nurse brought good news with her arrival: Buck would be going home later that afternoon. Knowing Maddie had her shift at work, he texted Bobby, asking the man for a ride to his loft. He still sent his sister a heads up to let her know what was going on, and in true big sisterly fashion, she sent him several messages insisting that Buck stay at her and Chim’s place while he was recovering. All of which Buck immediately dismissed. He didn’t need a 24-hour babysitter, and he definitely did not want to be living on Chim’s sofa again. His own couch would perfectly suffice, considering he didn’t think stairs were in his future anytime soon.

He opened his text thread with Eddie once again, willing his fingers to form the words he needed to say. Still, nothing came.

In a moment of desperation, Buck chose to simply call the man instead, knowing that hearing Eddie’s voice might be the one thing that soothed this unbearable anxiety in him. Eddie picked up after a single ring.

“Buck? Are you okay?”

And although Buck had been feeling particularly speechless up to that point, The evident care in the tone of Eddie’s voice brought forth a plethora of words from Buck’s lips.

“Eddie, I was so scared. I couldn’t move and there was a guy with a bomb strapped to his chest, and he was trying to kill Bobby, and then they got the guy apprehended, and I thought it was finally over, but then the truck was too heavy. It wouldn’t even budge, but each time they tried, I almost blacked out from the pain. It was the most unbearable thing I’ve ever felt in my life. By the time they finally did get the truck off me, I’d gone completely numb. And as they loaded me on to the ambulance, and I finally passed out, the last thing I was thinking was I’ll never walk again, never be able to do my job again.” Buck sobbed into the speaker, uncaring about how pitiful he sounded.

“Shh, it’s okay, Buck,” Eddie whispered to him through the phone, “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’s gonna be okay.”

“Eddie, you know that being a firefighter is everything to me. It’s who I am. I can’t go on in this life if I don’t have that. And it’s not like I can just be a full-time YouTube personality when the whole concept of my channel is dependent on being a firefighter as well. What am I going to do?”

“Are you certain you won’t work again? Did they… did they amputate it?”

“No, it’s still here, all stitched up and useless. The cast goes from foot to hip. But Eddie, the doctor told me, he said he doubted that I’d ever work again. And I’ve been reading all the talk about it online. Nobody thinks I’ll get to go back. They’re all saying that’s it for me, that I’m done.”

He heard Eddie’s frustrated sigh through the line. “You’re not done, Buck. You’re still a human being. You still exist. You’re still you, even if you don’t know who you is right now. And if you still have both legs, then I have no doubt you’ll return to the 118 someday. I’ve known you for six months now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you’re stubborn and persistent. You don’t give up, Buck. So, it may not be right now, but it’s also not never.”

Buck sat in a long silence as Eddie’s words of comfort washed over him. He always seemed to know exactly what Buck needed.

“Thanks, Eds,” he said.

“Of course. I meant what I said in that message, Buck. I’m here for whatever you need. Anything.”

“Right now, I think I need a new vlog of you and Christopher trying and failing to bake. That would really cheer me up.”

Buck was rewarded by Eddie’s lovely chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do tonight after Chris finishes up his homework.”

Buck hummed in appreciation, and then they both fell quiet, searching for more words that needed to be said.

“I came to the hospital last night,” Eddie uttered, and this instantly sent Buck into a panic. He envisioned the man standing at his bedside, watching him drool and snore. Jesus, how humiliating.

“You were here?!”

“Don’t worry,” Eddie rushed to reassure him, “I didn’t come in. I sat in the parking lot for a while, sort of just drove there on autopilot after my shift once somebody had mentioned which hospital you were at. I wanted to see you, to know you were okay so that I could have a chance of getting any sleep last night. But in the end, I knew you’d be angry with me for arranging our first in-person meeting without your knowledge or consent. So, I didn’t come in. Just sat out in my car for a while.”

“Oh, Eddie…” was all Buck could say.

“It still helped… knowing that I was close to you, probably the closest we’ve ever been to each other. I didn’t sleep great, but I got a few hours in at least.”

“That’s… Eddie that’s… I’m really sorry I had you so worried. I’ve been in and out of it all weekend or I would have thought to call you sooner.”

Buck couldn’t believe that someone like Eddie would care about him so much. It seemed impossible.

“I’m being discharged later today,” Buck said in an effort to change the subject.

“Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, Bobby’s gonna pick me up and drive me to the loft.”

“You’re not staying with Maddie? I thought for sure she’d be a mother-hen for a while.”

“Oh, she most certainly tried, but I insisted on going back to my own place. I really don’t want to be a burden on her and Chimney.”

“Buck, you’re not a burden on anyone,” Eddie informed him in that tone that said he was tired of having to regular repeat the sentiment, “and you should know that I really want to have your back while you get through this. I know you’re going to want to push me away, just like you’re already doing with your sister and everyone else, but I’m begging you not to do that. I need to be here for you. I care about you a lot.”

“Eddie, you have Christopher and your job and your family and your channel to worry about. The last thing you need is me constantly begging for favors or cheering up.”

He could make out what sounded like a heated huff from Eddie’s side of the phone. “Evan Buckley, I will literally march my ass down to your hospital room right now, consequences be damned, if you don’t stop this self-deprecating line of thinking. You matter to me, Buck, just as much as everything else in my life. And I know you probably matter to a lot of other people too.”

“Ugh, fine. I won’t shut you out.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, Eds.”

When Bobby picked him up from the hospital, Buck noticed that the man’s passenger seat was filled with covered Pyrex dishes and sacks of groceries, things like fruits and veggies, granola bars and other snacks Buck could eat without cooking.

“You really didn’t have to do all this, Bobby,” Buck told him as he maneuvered into the backseat and stretched his cast across the width of it.

“Athena insisted, and you have to admit that you won’t be doing any cooking anytime soon. You’ll need to eat something to keep from wasting away, Mr. Muscles.”

“There’s always takeout.”

“Yeah, well, takeout never beats a Grant-Nash homecooked meal. All you have to do is heat these up in the microwave and they’re good to go. They should keep for a week, and then we’ll bring by more after that.”

Buck sighed, knowing there was no use arguing with his captain any further.

“Thank you, really.”

Bobby stayed long enough to put away all the food in Buck’s kitchen, and then he helped him gather blankets and pillows to make a bed on the couch.

“You really shouldn’t have gotten an upstairs bedroom, Buck,” the man remarked wisely.

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

After Bobby left him alone, Buck heated up some baked mac and cheese, turned on a real crime show about uncaught serial killers in America, and scrolled on his phone through an infinite number of Instagram notifications. Most of them were well wishes from fans or other firefighters, hoping and praying for an easy recovery. There was also a ton of speculation, people trying to figure out what had happened with Buck since the news coverage had last shown him in the ambulance. Of course, everyone online had pieced together that he worked at the 118, considering their station number was displayed in bold letters on the side of the exploded truck throughout all the footage of the incident. That created one more thing for Buck to worry about, and he really hoped people would be respectful enough to grant him his privacy even with that knowledge. He would feel terrible if they started harassing everyone at the station because of him.

He glanced down at his plate of mac and cheese. It was good, as Bobby’s always was, but the despondence of his situation was making it hard to have a real appetite. On a whim, Buck slid down to the floor in front of his coffee table, propped his phone up to face him, and started a live stream.

“Hi everyone. I know you probably all have a lot of questions about what’s going on with me and what the future is for me and this channel. First, let me just say that I did not lose my leg. It’s still painfully here, being a nuisance and all that, but I’m grateful for it nonetheless.” He paused his speech to wrap his hands around the cast and carefully lift his leg into the frame of the camera, providing evidence that his words were true. “It’s going to take a long time for me to heal, to even get out of this cast, and after that, I’ll still have loads of physical therapy, still won’t be at hundred percent for a while. Sadly, I think this means no baking livestreams and no Homecooked Thursdays for a while, but I am still going to try to do one video a week: my Takeout Tuesdays. And I’m not promising I’ll have many interesting things to talk about, considering the firefighting is on hold for a moment, but I’d still like to eat dinner with all of you guys once a week. You’re my family, after all.”

He considered ending the stream right there as he felt tears well in his eyes, but there were more things that needed to be said.

“I know all of you have watched the news coverage that night, and I know everyone now knows what LA crew I’m a part of. This is me asking that you be respectful toward my firehouse and my coworkers going forward. Please do not show up at the 118 trying to get information about me, please don’t harass the people I know and love. Please know that these next few months are going to be really difficult for me, and the last thing I need is to worry about the privacy and safety of myself and my crew.”

He let out the deep breath he’d been holding.

“Lastly, I want to thank everyone for their hopes and prayers, thoughts and well-wishes. It’s warmed my heart to know that so many people out there have been worrying for me over the past several days. Overall, this has been a really positive, supportive community, and no matter what happens with me and my job, I hope I never lose that with you all. Have a good night, everyone.”

He gave a half smile and a little wave before shutting down the feed.

Christopher wants to meet you.

The text came mere seconds after Buck’s stream ended.

Um? Okay? Are you forgetting that you haven’t even met me yet?

We were watching your stream. He felt really sad for you, said he wanted to draw you a picture to make you feel better and give it to you in person. We watch your videos so often, and he knows that you and I talk. He thinks of you as our friend, Buck, so obviously he’s going to want to cheer you up.

I dunno Eddie. I’m a mess. I don’t think I’ll be ready for company anytime soon.

Not that we care if you’re a mess, but I understand. Whenever you’re ready. Let me know.

The following week is the hardest one of Buck’s life. He struggles do remedial tasks constantly, barely managing to brush his own teeth for the fact that he can’t really stand at his bathroom sink. He improvises by sitting on the bathroom floor and spitting the toothpaste into his bathtub. Don’t even get him started on trying to use the restroom or take a bath. It was disheartening to say the least.

Maddie checked up on him constantly, kindly taking Buck’s phone by a repair shop to get the screen fixed and running other errands he couldn’t manage on his own, and Bobby was always asking Buck if he was eating the food they’d sent. Buck attempted not to be too annoyed at their hovering, remembering the conversation he’d had with Eddie over the phone.

Eddie. That wonderful man. He’d called Buck every single night without fail, trying to sooth him to sleep in the same way Buck was sure he did with Christopher, and when Buck embarrassingly admitted that he was having terrible nightmares of the bombing, Eddie didn’t miss a beat before telling him of the nightmares he sometimes had of his helicopter crash and being shot.

When another Tuesday rolled around, Buck was actually looking forward to ordering takeout. He had a pizza with a mountain of toppings delivered, and he got his camera all set up at the dining table to start his first actual mukbang since leaving the hospital.

The problem was, he had no idea what to talk about. His heart still felt too heavy to try to fake a cheery mood and tell some silly story about a woman turning bluer than a Smurf because of using too much benzocaine. Reluctantly, Buck decided to recount what he remembered of being trapped under the truck. He knew it wouldn’t make for a pleasant video, but he was also aware that he would never be able to move past it if he didn’t recount it properly. The video ended up getting more views than his last five mukbangs combined.

He had several sessions with Dr. Copeland, working through his trauma from the event. They helped a little, but nothing so much as when he received a message or phone call from Eddie.

He went to a checkup for his leg, and at the last minute, Buck brought his camera, choosing to vlog the eventful day. He had never been one to enjoy filming his daily activities, but he figured that with both his regular Thursday and Sunday videos being out of the picture at the moment, it wouldn’t hurt to supplement his content with an occasional vlog here and there updating his fans on the healing process.

Eddie was being suspiciously quiet about his work days, no longer griping to Buck about calls or telling funny stories about his idiot coworkers. Buck wasn’t stupid. He knew Eddie was trying to walk on eggshells with him, afraid that talking about work as a firefighter would rub salt in Buck’s wounds.

Buck didn’t say anything about it though, letting Eddie assume what he wanted.

Eddie sent him lots of pictures. One’s of the food he was eating or the strange shapes Christopher had constructed with Legos. Pictures of the two of them at the grocery store, trying to figure out the difference between baking soda and baking powder. Pictures of the play set Eddie had constructed with his bare hands. And then there were the selfies. The adorable, handsome, sexy, sometimes downright sinful selfies Eddie sent him.

Like when a man sends a photo of himself shirtless in bed after just waking up, hair all wild, looking like someone’s fingers have been running through it all night, how was Buck supposed to take that? Honestly.

And there had been a time after the accident where Buck thought his libido would be gone forever, but Eddie’s pictures fixed that problem for him rather quickly. To make matters worse, it wasn’t like Buck had much else to do besides lay around in his loft, thinking about how horny he was.

He wondered how long it would be before Eddie started casually sending him dick pics without preamble. Buck would literally die.

He tried his best to give back exactly what Eddie was giving him, sending food pics of his reheated meals, snapshots of the crappy paintings he’d created in his boredom, freezeframes of whatever true crime show Buck was watching that day, and then carefully posed photos of himself late at night, shirt off, back sagging into his cramped couch. He’d flash a practiced coy smile or a smoldering look.

This new type of photo exchange went undiscussed by the both of them. They still had the same conversations about the random Wikipedia articles Buck would read, or the fun outings Eddie would take Christopher on, or their mutual loneliness, are shared wish that they could each have a partner in life, someone to always be at their side.

Buck really wanted to see Eddie face-to-face. But he was terrified now that they’d hyped up this first meeting so much in their heads that the real thing would fall short somehow. He also lamented that it was a little unfair now, with Eddie still being in prime physical shape, clearly sporting an eight-pack in some of the pictures he’d sent, and Buck was indeed wasting away. So much of his hard-earned muscle mass was a thing of the past now. He wasn’t necessarily scrawny, he could still flex and look impressive for photos, but it definitely wasn’t the tip-top shape he had expected to be in when he and Eddie first met.

But weeks were going by, and Christopher continued to ask after Buck and draw pictures for him, and Eddie was clearly trying not to pressure him for a meet up, but Buck could hear the longing in the man’s voice. Buck recognized it because it matched a longing of his own. And he wasn’t particularly resilient these days, so it was easy for him to give in when Eddie mentioned his Abuela hosting another cookout and her having extended an invitation to Buck if he wished to come.

You mean that? You really want to come?

Unless you don’t want me to?

Of course I want you to! I’m just surprised. You haven’t exactly been in the mood for leaving your loft or being around people lately. I didn’t expect you to actually accept the invite.

Well, your Abuela sounds like a lovely lady, and it would be rude to turn her down.

Dios, she’s going to love you, I already know. You’re going to replace me as her favorite grandson.

Grandson, huh? Am I already an honorary Diaz?

If you want to be, sure :)

She’ll expect us there by 6 tonight. Want to send me your address and I’ll pick you up?

Okay. What should I wear?

Nothing fancy. We’ll be lounging in the backyard, and many children will be running about spilling things. I always wear my oldest shirt to these get togethers.

Hmm. But what if I wanted to look nice for you?

Do so at your own risk. There will be red KoolAid.

You’re no fun, Eds.

Buck, I’ve literally watched a hundred videos of you sitting in your dining room in sweats while stuffing your face. I think you look nice no matter what.

*blushes* Awe, okay you win.

Smooth bastard.

Also, this definitely will not count as our first date, so no pressure to dress up.

What makes you so sure we’ll be having a first date?

Just an optimistic feeling

Or a daydream, I guess.

Well you would have to ask me out first before a date could happen, and I don’t recall you ever doing that?

Hmm, how about you pass Christopher’s and my Abuela’s tests first, and then I might consider asking you out.

Tests?!

No response.

Tests???? Eddie! What tests?!

See you at 6 Buck :D

To Buck’s dismay, he was still trying to wrestle himself into a pair of tight-fitting jeans, the left pantleg cut off for him to tuck into his cast, when Eddie knocked at his door that evening.

“Shit,” he said to himself, and then to the door, “just a second!”

He stumbled around, bracing a hand on the island in his kitchen, and then he yanked at the stiff material of the jeans yet again, begging it to budge up his thigh. It wasn’t that they were too small for him, it was more that this was a whole lot fucking easier when he could standing on two legs and shimmy into them.

“Buck?” came muffled from out in the hall, “are you okay in there?”

“Yeah! I’m great. I’ll be there in a minute, Eds!”

With one last effort from his weakened biceps, he managed to clad his butt and hips in the dark pants at last. He hastily zipped and buttoned the fly and then grabbed his crutch to hobble over to the door. He was so flustered by the pants situation, that he didn’t even really register the gravity of the situation that was Eddie now standing before him in person.

“Hi,” Buck breathed out, blue eyes wide at that handsome face suddenly being so close to him.

“Hi,” Eddie answered back, clearly just as awestruck.

“Hi!” Christopher chirped from behind Eddie.

The moment was broken, and the two men laughed fondly. Buck couldn’t kneel, so he slid down to sit on the ground in front of the boy, offering a hand to shake.

“Hi, Christopher. I’m Buck. It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

Chris shook his hand and smiled before digging a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it over to Buck. “I drew this for you. Dad said this is what you’ll look like in only a few more months.”

Puzzled, Buck carefully unfolded the drawing to reveal a crayon portrait of what was clearly him in a dramatic imagining. His arms were lifted high above his head, biceps bulging, and he was carrying an entire firetruck.

“I’m going to turn into the Hulk, huh?” he directed at both of them with a chuckle.

“No, but you’re gonna get better and become the strongest firefighter ever,” Chris explained.

“Even stronger than your dad?”

“Yep,” the boy answered without hesitation.

“Hey, rude,” Eddie tried to complain, but his voice was too fond sounding to be convincing.

Buck grinned and then grabbed at the door frame to pull himself back into a standing position. Eddie immediately reached a hand out to cup under Buck’s armpit and assist him. It was their first touch, warm and secure. A show of aid and comfort. A plea of trust.

“Let me go hang this on the fridge, and then I’ll slip my one shoe on and be ready, okay?”

The Diaz men glanced around Buck’s apartment as he did so, clearly impressed with the wide windows letting the evening sun spill in.

“You have stairs? Dad! Buck has stairs in his house.”

“He’s very fascinated by stairs these days,” Eddie explained with a smirk, and Buck could only chuckle again. He could already tell that spending time with these two would forever be a delight.

“I promise you, kid, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be,” Buck assured him, thinking back to how many times he’d cursed those stairs since the day he moved in.

Upon arrival, Abuela greeted Buck with the same kind hug that she did for everyone else in her family. Eddie’s family was huge, like far bigger than Buck could have imagined, but it was also pretty incredible. The way they all teased and taunted each other, the way they effortlessly shared the newest events of their lives or embarrassing memories from back in the day, it was something Buck had always hoped for in a family. He’d found some of that with the 118 at their large gatherings, but this here with Eddie, was on a whole other level.

Buck had thought that he’d be exhausted by the end of the night, ready to be alone again. But as Eddie drove him home through the dark streets of LA, Buck only wanted to return to Abuela’s yard and exist in a time of uproarious laughter forever.

“I’m glad you came,” Eddie said softly, as not to wake up a sleeping Christopher in the back seat.

“Me too, Eddie. Thank you for this. It was really nice to get out of the house, be around people for a while, you know?”

“Yeah… maybe Chris and I could come by more often now? Either just hang out at yours, play video games or something, or if you wanted we could go out somewhere, do something that doesn’t require a ton of walking.”

“Is this your version of asking me out on a date?”

“Nope. Not yet, Buckley. God you’re impatient,” Eddie teased, “I promise that our first date will not include my son nor my Abuela.”

“You’re still so confident that I’ll say yes, huh?”

“The blush on your face right now isn’t leading me to believe otherwise.”

Buck bit at his lower lip and turned away from Eddie bashfully.

After that, Buck’s days and weeks grew lighter, the time he had left to endure wearing the cast was flying by. Eddie made good on his word to come by often with Chris. Buck was pretty sure they were spending every single one of Eddie’s days off work at Buck’s loft now. He hated to think of the state Eddie’s house was in, considering the man couldn’t possibly have free time to get any cleaning done.

They didn’t really venture out, considering there weren’t many activities they could come up with that wouldn’t involve Buck having to laboriously try to get around with his cast and his crutch. But every time they showed up knocking at his doorstep, Christopher would be packing some new game or toy or puzzle for them to do together. He knew that both Chris and Eddie had taken in upon themselves to keep Buck from ever feeling bored or lonely again.

The frequency of his texts and calls with Eddie didn’t stop. Any moment that wasn’t spent together in person was supplemented through their phones.

I bet you’re counting down the days until that cast comes off.

You have no idea. It is the absolute bane of my existence.

Christopher has already decided that he’s going to be your PT buddy once you start. He knows all the exercises by heart.

What would I do without you guys?

You never have to find out. You’re stuck with us now, Buck.

I’m glad :)

In all seriousness, you should know Buck, if you and I become something more than friends, it can’t be a casual thing. I’m in this for real, and I wouldn’t want you to say yes to a date if you weren’t feeling just as committed about it.

Don’t worry, Eds. My fortune teller has already promised me that you and I will be a forever kind of thing.

I say “In all seriousness,” and you immediately respond with a joke? You’re insufferable.

Please tell me you don’t actually have a fortune teller though.

Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.

But yes, I feel pretty serious about us as well. Definitely not a casual thing for me either.

“I’m sick of takeout and reheats,” Buck complained to Eddie and Christopher one day as they sat on his couch eating fried chicken and potato wedges, “I wish you could cook as good as your Abuela, Eds. Then I’d never let you leave.”

“Wow, okay. So we’re doing insults now? See if I pick up the food and save you a delivery fee next time…” Eddie grumbled around a drumstick.

“All I’m saying is, it’s literally in your genes to be a good cook, and somehow, you’ve defied nature and turned out a hopeless cause in the kitchen.”

“Just because I insult my own cooking sometimes, doesn’t give everyone else the right to insult it too.” Buck could see Eddie’s jaw clenching slightly, a warning sign that the man wasn’t in the mood for these barbs, but Buck was having too much fun to relent.

“Like how does one mess up a chicken salad sandwich? How?”

“Your mayonnaise was expired, Buck! How was I supposed to know that? And that’s the only damn reason that the sandwiches tasted off. Therefore, that little mishap was entirely your fault.”

“I dunno, I don’t think it was all on the mayonnaise.”

Eddie threw the, now bare, bone of his chicken leg back onto his plate. “That’s it. I’m ending this whole cooking/baking dilemma once and for all.”

“Oh?”

“How’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

Two days later he received a cryptic text.

Sunday. You, me, and your kitchen. Christopher is staying overnight at Abuela’s. I’m going to make you dinner and bake you a dessert and you’re going to fucking like it, Buck.

Is this a date?

Not a date.

It’s me proving once and for all that I’m not a “hopeless cause” in the kitchen. It’s also to get you to shut up with all your whining about not being able to cook for yourself.

I dunno, you cooking me dinner? Us alone in my apartment? Sounds like a date to me, Eds.

I promise, when I’m asking you on a date, there will be no doubt in your head that that’s what’s happening.

Buck wouldn’t admit how much Eddie’s bossiness turned him on, but he was secretly hoping the take-charge behavior extended to the bedroom. If only Eddie would ever get around to asking him out, then Buck could find out for himself.

When Eddie showed up on Sunday at 5:30, sans Christopher, Buck couldn’t help the warmth that spread through his chest at the sight of him, making his heart feel enlarged. He was packing in bags of groceries, clearly having come from the grocery story, not relying on Buck to have the proper ingredients, nor for the one’s he did have to not be expired considering Buck hadn’t made a proper grocery trip in ages.

He marched through to Buck’s kitchen without even offering a greeting, clearly a man on a mission. Eddie grabbed one of the dining chairs and drug it to the space in-between the kitchen counter and the island.

“Come sit,” he said plainly. Buck did as asked without question.

Eddie began spreading out all his groceries on the island. Then, he turned back to Buck.

“Could you hand me your phone?”

“Uh?” Buck tilted his head in confusion. “What do you need my phone for?”

“I’m going to set up a livestream for your channel,” Eddie told him in a way that said it should have made perfect sense.

“You’re going to stream this? Us? Together? While you cook me dinner?”

“You said you miss the interaction from the livestream chats, so I figured this would be the easiest way to do one. I’ll cook and bake, you can coach me and point out all my mistakes, while simultaneously answering chat questions and sitting there looking pretty.”

“Eddie, are you sure you want— wait… pretty, huh?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, Buck. You’re gorgeous. Now pass me your phone, will ya?”

“But Eddie,” Buck continued to protest, “I didn’t think you wanted people knowing we talked and hung out. You said it would cause them to be all up in our relationship business.”

“And as I recall you saying: It will be fine.”

“And as I recall you saying: It most certainly was not fine.”

Eddie raised one dark eyebrow at him and put both hands on his hips in a sexy sort of no-nonsense stance.

“Look, I’m perfectly willing to do this with you, Buck. Unless there is some other reason for your hesitance than you simply worrying about me, then I see no reason not to.”

So, they did it. Buck started the stream with only him in the frame, greeting his fans fondly. “So, I’ve still got my cast on for another week, which means I can’t do any baking by myself just yet. But not to worry, I have a very special guest with me who’s gonna do all the manual labor while I just sit here and look pretty.” He paused his introduction to glance at Eddie off to the side of the island, and then he waved him over. “Everyone, this is Eddie from the channel BrownEyedFirefighter. Give him a warm welcome in the chat, and if you haven’t already, go check out some of his videos after we’re done here.”

Buck couldn’t help the broad grin stretching across his face as people went nuts in the comments. They were, of course, already assuming the two of them had been secretly dating. Which, Buck supposed, wasn’t that far off from the truth.

Eddie said a quick hello to the camera, and then he studied his own phone which held a recipe for some Enchiladas Verdes.

“wanderingMeadows_atnone says if you’re going to be the cook, you have to wear the apron, Eds.”

Eddie shot Buck a glare. “I don’t have an apron. And I’m not wearing yours. It won’t suit me.”

“What? Why not? It’ll look fine.”

“Nope. It’s blue. That’s your color… matches your eyes and whatnot.”

Jesus. Eddie really was trying to make him look like a lovestruck idiot on camera. “How about, you wear it just this once, and I’ll buy a brown apron next time.”

“Brown?”

“Yeah, to match your eyes, dummy. Hey, the heat is way too high on that burner. The chicken won’t cook evenly that way. You’ve gotta turn it down.”

Eddie groaned but followed Buck’s instruction. First turning the burner down and then tying the pale blue apron around his torso.

It ended up being the longest livestream Buck had ever done. They stayed on for the half hour it took to make their dinner, and then they decided to do a live mukbang together rather than cutting the stream short. After eating, Buck went back to his post as supervisor while Eddie attempted a basic oatmeal cookie for dessert.

He answered a whole foray of inquiries about the progress of his leg and his prospects of returning to work. Then, he dodged a whole boatload of questions about when and how he and Eddie had “gotten together.” Many people in the chat were quite enthralled and amused by the natural, teasing demeanor between the two of them. Buck was okay giving the viewers a few teases of information about them, like how Eddie had been the one to slide into his DM’s, which earned another groan from the man, or how he’d been a fan of Eddie’s channel for a while before they started talking, and lastly how Eddie had been an incredibly supportive presence through Buck’s recovery so far.

Miraculously, the cookies turned out pretty damn good, each of them trying a bite on camera, and Eddie felt the need to say in a snarky tone, “Told you I’m not a hopeless cause, Buck.”

“Yeah, you just needed a good teacher,” Buck snarked back before winking at him.

And before they could receive another flurry of rabid comments, Buck said farewell to the chat and ended the stream.

Buck finished the rest of his cookie and grabbed another off the plate. “I’m impressed with you, Eds, truly.”

Eddie met Buck’s eye, giving him a heated look. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Want to go on a date with me? Next weekend? After your cast is off?”

“Oh, I see. You were really just waiting until my leg wasn’t busted, so it would be easier for you to have your wicked way with me.”

“Buck.”

“Yeah?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“Which question was that?”

“A date. With me. Yes or no.”

Buck sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll go on a date with you. But you should know, Eddie, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“You know, I somehow doubt that.”

And Buck couldn’t really argue, considering he had indeed put out on a great number of first dates in the past.

Eddie smirked.

***

Four Months Later

Eddie pressed record on his vlogging camera and aimed the shot so that his face was in the foreground and the expanse of ocean waves were captured behind him.

“Hey, everyone! Chris, Buck, and I are having a beach day, and we’re celebrating something very exciting.” Eddie crossed the few steps of sand to his boyfriend and wrapped an arm around Buck’s waist. “Somebody passed his LAFD physical exam with flying colors,” Eddie told the camera with a proud smile on his face, “and he even set a few records. He’ll be officially returning to work next week, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.”

Buck watched him, biting his lip shyly, trying to pretend that he didn’t live for Eddie’s constant praise.

“It was all thanks to you. Between Christopher’s strict PT routines and your company during my workouts, there was no way I wouldn’t pass, Eddie.”

“Nope. You don’t get to brush this off, Buck. You put in the hard work. You endured all the pain. This was all you, baby.”

“Yeah, well, it was still nice not having to do it all alone. So thank you.”

“Anytime,” Eddie promised before kissing Buck’s sweet lips.

He vlogged the three of them building sandcastles and then Buck and Chris splashing each other in the water for what felt like hours. They got street tacos from a food truck, and then they stretched a beach blanket out on the warm sand and watched the waves come and go as the sun sank in the sky.

It hadn’t exactly been without struggle to get to this place they were at now. Buck had cried many nights after his initial PT sessions. He’d almost lost hope a few times when Eddie had reminded him not to push too hard and Buck had decided that he’d never get back to work at such a slow rate of progress. But they’d gotten through it together, Buck’s strength and balance and speed all becoming better than ever over time. And sprinkled throughout all that struggle was the easiness of them falling into a romantic relationship together.

A nice first date at the cinema, followed by dinner at Buck’s favorite Thai place.

Buck getting to drive again and coming over to Eddie’s house for the first time, losing to Christopher at many a video game, and then staying overnight in Eddie’s bed.

The Diaz men joining Buck at the 118’s latest birthday party. Hen and Chimney quickly taking up their new favorite pastime of teasing Eddie, and then Maddie and Bobby teaming up to give him the shovel talk.

Buck tagging along to many more cookouts at Abuela’s.

Him being there to make pancakes from Christopher on the weekends, or Eddie joining Buck for mukbangs at his loft every once in a while, telling funny work stories of his own when Buck ran out of things to talk about to the camera.

Them grabbing lunch together on Eddie’s days off, or when he had a late shift,

Eddie taking Buck dancing once his leg was well enough to endure the extra strain.

And so many other perfect moments of domestic bliss that Eddie wouldn’t trade for the world. They had many big plans for future days, like hiking together or cycling or rock climbing, things Buck often complained weren’t nearly as enjoyable when doing them alone. They had so effortlessly become partners, and Eddie was certain it would always be Buck he’d be sharing his life with.

He bumped his shoulder up against Buck’s, getting the man’s attention as Eddie studied that beautiful face.

“What is it, Eds?”

“I love you,” he said simply.

Surprise flashed in Buck’s blue eyes, but the expression of sheer joy on the man’s face told Eddie he shouldn’t be worried.

“I love you too. I think I’ve loved you since before I even met you in person.”

“Me too, Buck. From the moment we first started messaging, I don’t think I had any other choice but to fall in love with you.”