Archive of Our Own

"Advice is like the snow. The softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon and the deeper it sinks into the mind.”

- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Buck stands in front of the chalet and thinks, what the fuck .

Because here’s the thing – Buck’s been around. He’s been to Mexico and Pennsylvania and Peru and Montana and everywhere in between, but, somehow, he didn’t know that he had a long-lost uncle with a chalet in Vail, Colorado.

So imagine his surprise when a random lawyer called him to tell him that a Mr. Edward Buckley had passed away and left the chalet to Buck in his will.

The lawyer just said, “. . . And he left one instruction: May your heart lead you home.”

Buck had blinked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

The lawyer snorted. “I’m not sure, Mr. Buckley, but please let me know when you’ll be by to pick up the keys.”

Which leads to where he is now – jobless and freezing his ass off in four feet of snow, staring at a huge chalet in the woods.

It’s seven PM, and just as Buck is about to start trudging through the snow to enter the chalet, his stomach lets out the longest, loudest growl known to man. The lawyer told him that everything in Vail is either in walking or skiing distance, and while Buck does know how to ski, he obviously doesn’t have any on him at the moment, and he isn’t about to trudge his way through two feet of fresh snow.

His boots are not meant for snow – they’re meant for working on a ranch in Montana, and his coat isn’t meant for this degree of cold. It’s just a light insulated down jacket, and underneath he has at least three layers of shirts and sweatshirts on, but it still isn’t making a dent on the chill in the air. He’s been out of Pennsylvania for years now, but he always thought he might have some mild level of resistance against the cold elements.

Buck snorts and scuffs his foot in the snow as he hops into his rental car. Apparently, he’s meant for the sun, and perhaps he’s meant to live a jobless life forever.

Before he got the call, Buck was thinking he might head to California. Los Angeles had always been appealing to him, and a guy he met back in Mexico said, jokingly, that Buck might make a good firefighter. Sure, the guy was commenting on Buck’s arms as Buck pinned him against the wall, but the comment still stuck with him.

And while he is physically closer to California, he feels so, so far away from where he thought he would be. The town around him is small and snowy – it’s just a long stretch of storefronts and buildings covered in snow and icicles. It’s a cute town, Buck admits, and the people walking around seem genuinely happy to be here. Buck doesn’t think he’s ever felt like that in his life.

He parks against the curb right outside of what appears to be a restaurant, checks that his coat is zipped all the way up, and hops out of the car, slamming his door shut and quickly turning on his heel.

He’s taken approximately one-and-a-half steps when he hears, “Hey!” The voice is low and deep, and Buck can tell that the owner is mad about something. He ignores the shiver that passes through him, because it’s obviously just the weather.

When he spins around, he comes face-to-face with a man standing cross-armed on the curb right next to his car. Even beneath the volume of his down parka, Buck can tell that his biceps are bulging with how hard he’s crossing his arms. There’s a scowl and a light dusting of stubble on his face, and Buck hates to admit that his first thought is that the guy is hot, even when he’s glaring at him.

“Hey,” Buck says hesitantly, because even in all his hotness, the guy still looks mad as hell for whatever unknown reason. “I’m Buck.”

“I know.” He looks Buck up and down. “Edward Buckley’s nephew.”

“Uh, yeah.” Buck shrugs. “I didn’t know him.”

The man hums and shrugs once before glancing at the car. “Did you see the sign?” The man asks, so suddenly that Buck startles from where he was standing and watching the brooding man glare at his car.  “No Parking Any Time,” he reads, gesturing at the mentioned sign.

Buck admits that he did not see the sign. He glances from it and then back down to the man, who is now leveling him another glare.

“You’re parked.” He deadpans, and Buck lets out a huff.

“Am I going to get a ticket?” Buck asks, mainly because he doesn’t want to have to pay one, but he also really just wants to see the man twitch.

“Listen, if you could just move –”

“Okay, okay,” Buck raises his hands in defeat, even if the guy looks even hotter when he’s all riled up. “I’ll move.”

The man just nods and turns on his heel, walking down the street and away from him. Buck watches him go and absolutely does not check out his ass before he turns and rounds the corner.

He sighs as he moves his car to an approved parking space. If everyone in Vail is as prickly as the man, then Buck doesn’t know how long he’ll actually stay here.

Buck trudges into the restaurant, even hungrier than before. It’s a big space, not very busy with only a few tables currently occupied. An assortment of baked goods rest behind glass on the counter, and Buck’s stomach immediately growls again at the smell of whatever is currently cooking in the kitchen.

“Hi,” the man at the counter smiles at him. He eyes Buck’s coat warily, eyebrow raised. “I’m Bobby. I’m guessing you’re not from here?”

“Buck,” he introduces himself before huffing and tugging self-consciously at his coat. “Haven’t gotten around to buying a new one,” he admits. “I just got here an hour ago.”

“You up on the lodge, or . . .?” Bobby asks as he grabs a menu and leads Buck over to the bar. He places the menu in front of one of the stools, gesturing for Buck to sit. Once Buck is perched on the stool, Bobby slides an empty mug towards him before carefully filling it with what appears to be hot chocolate.

“Um, no,” Buck sips at the drink, surprised that it doesn’t taste like his usual Nestle powder packets that he uses at home. “There’s a house up the hill that my uncle left me when he passed.”

Bobby blinks at him for a moment, his eyes starting to swim with tears, and Buck is just about to apologize when Bobby smiles at him softly and quickly swipes at his eyes.

“Sorry,” Bobby says quietly. “You’re Edward Buckley’s nephew.”

Buck just nods, unsure of what to say. He came into town with the thought that his uncle couldn’t be any better than his dad, but . . .

“He owned this place with me,” Bobby leans against the bar as he says it, glancing over Buck’s shoulder. Buck turns around to look at an assortment of framed photographs on the wall behind him, ranging from present day to at least 25 years in the past. “I’ve known him since I moved here, over 25 years ago. I should have recognized you right away.”

“Why . . .?” Buck asks, but Bobby is already gesturing towards one of the pictures. Two men are standing around an empty building that appears to have the same skeleton as the restaurant. One is obviously Bobby, just 25 years younger. And the other man –

Looks exactly like Buck, just without the birthmark.

“Oh.” Buck is staring at the picture, because he had no idea that he looked so much like his uncle. Although, to be fair, he didn’t know he had an uncle until just a few days ago. “I never knew him.”

“No,” Bobby hums. “Your dad is Phillip?”

Buck nods.

“Ed didn’t talk to his family much,” Bobby’s voice is quiet as he talks, and it’s so clear to Buck that his uncle was a dear friend. “According to him, his parents were too full of themselves, too rude, too judging of him. He was younger than your dad, and I guess he never really fit in with the family growing up.”

Buck snorts. “Sounds familiar.”

Bobby gives him a rueful smile. “I know you didn’t know him,” he says quietly. “But he knew you.”

Buck blinks.

“You have a sister, right? Maddie?” Bobby asks, and Buck – freezes, his eyes widening, because Maddie has been out of his life for years, off and married to Doug. He hasn’t talked to her in so long now, and it dawns on him that he doesn’t even know for sure where she is anymore. He hasn’t sent her a postcard in a year or so, discouraged by his own life and the lack of responses from Maddie, so he hasn’t received anything in return to suggest that her address has changed.

Bobby smiles at him softly. “She lives in Denver. Has for the past year.”

Buck almost spills his hot chocolate. “She – what –” He stammers. Bobby carefully takes the mug from him and sets it back on the counter.

“I’ll give her a call and tell her you’re here,” he says quietly. “She’s married with a baby.”

“Her and Doug had –” He starts, fear coursing through him at the thought of Doug in any proximity to a baby, but Bobby cuts him off.

“Ah, no. Doug isn’t in the picture anymore.”

Buck deflates, relief coursing through him as he realizes that his sister now, hopefully, has a better partner and is living a happy life.

A bell sounds from behind Bobby, and Bobby takes a few steps over before grabbing a large plate with what appears to be fish and chips. Buck feels his mouth watering.

“On the house,” Bobby tells him as he slides it in front of him. “Ed made me promise that your first meal here would be free.”

“How did he know I would come?” Buck asks, mouth already full of fried fish.

Bobby just smiles. “He just did.”

Buck is almost finished with his dessert by the time he brings up the hot, grumpy man.

“Ah,” Bobby’s eyes are shining with laughter now, crinkling at the corners as he gives Buck a look he doesn’t understand. “That must have been Eddie Diaz.”

“Sure,” Buck takes another bite of apple pie. “Is he always so rude?”

“He’s just protective,” Bobby says gently. “He’s newer here, considering. Arrived only a few years ago.”

“And he just made himself the parking police, or . . .?”

Bobby laughs and reaches over the bar to clap him on the shoulder. “I like you, kid.”

Buck feels himself blushing, head ducking down as he eats the last bite of apple pie. He hasn’t clicked with someone like Bobby in – well, forever, it feels like.

“He’ll warm up to you,” Bobby tells him, taking his empty plate. He glances behind Buck and laughs. “Maybe sooner than we think.”

“What –” Buck starts, but he turns his head only to see Eddie Diaz himself walking into the restaurant.

He stops in front of the bar, mouth open as if he was about to say something to Bobby, but as soon as he catches sight of Buck, he closes his mouth and crosses his arms again. Buck fights back the urge to huff.

“It’s you,” Eddie says. Buck does actually huff now.

“Play nice,” Bobby instructs Eddie, pointing a spatula in his direction. “We like him.”

“He parked in the no-parking zone,” Eddie deadpans.

“Everyone parks there, Eddie.” Bobby points the spatula at him again. Buck is watching them interact, and they both seem so comfortable with one another. He knows that Bobby said Eddie is newer to town, but he’s acting like Eddie’s been here forever.

Buck watches as Eddie pulls out a small travel guide from his jacket pocket, and everything he starts saying to Bobby is lost to Buck. He’s too busy taking in the guy’s appearance – puffer jacket still on, but now unzipped halfway with a cardigan sticking out underneath. Dark jeans, snow boots, soft hair. He looks like a winter dream.

He catches the tail end of whatever Eddie is saying. “. . . If revenue doesn’t go up, then –”

“I know, Eddie,” Bobby sighs. “We’re doing what we can. It’s hard with just one person.”

Buck stands up and fishes his wallet out to leave a tip on the counter. Bobby waves him away.

“You’re family, Buck,” he says gently. “Not necessary.”

Buck shakes his head, leaving the bills on the counter with a salt shaker on top. “It’s just a tip, and a thanks.”

Bobby shakes his head at him and waves him away, and Buck takes his leave before Bobby can change his mind and before Eddie can start snarking at him about something else.

He has Bobby’s number now programmed into his phone, and Bobby’s promise to contact his sister ringing in his head.

He parks the car in the driveway and trudges toward the house, snow falling around him now, and the first thing he needs to do in the morning is go and buy some appropriate winter clothes, because he will freeze to death if he keeps wearing his current attire. It feels like his toes may already freeze off.

He unlocks the door, pushes his luggage inside, closes the door behind him, and turns the light on.

From the outside, the place is gorgeous – made of wood, high points and slanting rooftops that let the snow cover them perfectly. It looks exactly like a ski chalet from a romance novel.

But on the inside – well.

The furniture is all pushed to the walls with dust sheets spread over them. Half of the wood floor is torn up, and it looks like half of the rooms are painted a fresh, light gray and half of them an old, ugly yellow. Two windows are covered in plastic to keep the cold out, and the sliding door is bolted with a slab of wood to keep it closed.

And, to top it all off, it feels like it’s colder inside than it is outside.

Buck goes towards the thermostat, switches it to Heat mode, and waits for the pleasant hum of the heater to fill the room.

Nothing happens.

He frowns at the thermostat, because it’s on and set to 78 degrees, but when he holds his hand over the vent, nothing is happening.

He groans and pulls his jacket tighter around himself, teeth chattering as he grabs his cell phone and makes his way upstairs to see if his uncle had any spare coats lying around. He dials Bobby’s number with numb fingers as he wrestles a coat out of the closet, frowning at the ugly brown color but deciding to put it on anyway.

“Hello?” Bobby answers after a few rings.

“Hey, it’s Buck. Just a quick question – how the fuck was my uncle living here?”

Bobby snorts, and he hears the quiet, muffled voice of someone commenting in the background, but he can’t hear what was said.

“He was in the middle of renovations, but the bedroom should be done by now,” Bobby says after a few moments, clearly listening to whatever the person in the background was saying.

“Yeah, which would be great if I had heat,” Buck deadpans, finding a pair of mittens and slipping them on. “You’ll find me frozen here in the morning if I try to sleep in these conditions.”

Bobby laughs, and Buck hears the background-commentator snort. “The contractor will be there in five minutes to fix it,” Bobby tells him. “You may also want to have him finish the renovations if the state of the place is that bad.”

“I could probably just do it myself . . .” Buck has experience with construction, although he admits that fixing up a house isn’t really what he wanted to do when he came here.

“He’s on his way now,” Bobby says, and Buck just thanks him and hangs up the phone.

He puts a hat on and sits on the bed, his teeth now chattering in the cold. He feels bad having the contractor come out this late at night, but he has no idea where the heating and cooling systems are even located in the house, and he is way too tired to try and figure anything out right now.

There’s a knock on the door, and Buck will not admit that he all but sprints down to open the door.

“Thank god, I’m freezing my ass off,” he says as he swings the door open, and then he abruptly shuts up, because Eddie Diaz is standing right on the other side of the door with a smug look on his face.

“Well, keep your ass attached,” Eddie says as he pushes past Buck and into the house. He glances around the room, a workbag in one hand and his phone in the other. He hums as he takes in his surroundings. “What a mess, huh?”

Buck blinks. “Weren’t you doing the renovations?”

“Yup.”

Eddie takes off his gloves and makes his way further into the house, and Buck decides to just leave him be. He carries his small amount of luggage up the stairs and into the bedroom, and he’s just about to start putting it all away when Eddie calls him from downstairs.

“Heat is on,” Eddie says. Buck glances over the railing to see Eddie wiping his hands off on a towel, a small grease stain on his cheek. He’s startled by the desire he has to wipe it off.

The thing is, Buck is used to a life of solitude. Sure, he surrounds himself with people, but he’s never really let anyone close to him other than Maddie. He doesn’t stay in one place for too long, so he hasn’t ever really seen the point in putting down roots or getting to know the people around him.

But there’s already something about this place that makes Buck feel . . . well, warm, despite the freezing temperatures. He wants to get to know Bobby and, despite his rough exterior, there’s something about him that makes Buck want to get to know Eddie, too.

Eddie, who is currently looking at him with a perfectly raised eyebrow. Buck rolls his eyes and comes back down the stairs, takes his own gloves off, and holds his hands up over the vent once he’s in front of Eddie.

The air is warm coming out of the vent, and Buck lets out a content sigh as he feels his fingers beginning to defrost. He watches as Eddie packs up his tools into his bag, nimble and gloveless fingers zipping the bag once everything is inside. Buck has to force himself to swallow and avert his eyes before he starts hitting on the maintenance man. The last thing he wants is to scare him away so soon.

“You really should get some winter clothes of your own,” Eddie says as he stands back upright, eyeing the ugly brown jacket with a wary look. “Your uncle didn’t have good taste.”

“Not my color?” Buck asks, flexing his arms to show off the jacket. He swears that Eddie looks at his shoulders for one second too long, but then he’s quickly darting his gaze away.

“No,” Eddie deadpans. “Neither is cyanosis.”

Buck snorts and lets out a surprised laugh, noticing that Eddie has ducked his head to hide a small smile of his own. Buck thinks that this is the first time he’s seen him actually smile, something other than just a smirk, and he silently vows that he wants to see it all the time.

“Thanks,” Buck says after the awkward moment of silence gets to be too much. He glances around himself again, sighing when he sees that the place is still in a state of disarray. “I guess I should start fixing the place up tomorrow.”

“Actually,” Eddie clears his throat, averting his eyes again as soon as he meets Buck’s gaze. Buck thinks he looks a little flushed, but he thinks it could just be the dark lighting of the night. “Your uncle paid for all of the renovations upfront.”

Buck raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Eddie shrugs. “He didn’t want to worry about it.”

Buck eyes him, trying to figure out if Eddie actually wants to help fix the chalet or not. It’s one thing to be paid, but he doesn’t think that this is Eddie’s full-time job. He’s also not sure that Eddie even likes him, because he actually seems mildly perturbed by Buck’s presence.

“Look, man,” Buck sighs. “You could just keep the money and I’ll fix it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to –”

“Buck,” Eddie starts, voice low and quiet now as he looks at Buck with wide, brown eyes. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Buck blinks at him, mouth half open with a retort that quickly escapes him. Eddie’s eyes are warm and melting in the moonlight, and for the first time all evening, he’s not darting his gaze away from Buck when their eyes finally meet. He stares right at him with all the sincerity in the world, and Buck knows absolutely that he means it.

Eddie holds his hand out. “Eddie Diaz. I moved here from Texas a few years ago with my son. I’m currently in the fire academy and I do contract work and renovations on the side.”

Buck has to pause, because there’s so much to unpack there and he isn’t sure what he wants to comment on.

“You have a kid?” He settles on this, because it seems the most important. “I love kids.” He tacks it on at the end, because he doesn’t want Eddie to think that he’s a child hater.

He watches as a soft, warm smile spreads across Eddie’s face. He digs in his coat pocket and pulls out his phone, swipes through it a few times, and turns it to Buck to show him the picture on the screen. It’s a young boy with red glasses and a smile so wide that Buck can’t help but grin at it.

“Christopher,” Eddie says, turning the phone back to him and smiling at it again. “He’s eight.”

Buck can tell that this kid means the world to Eddie. It’s startling how different the Eddie in front of him is from the one who was glaring at him on the curb only a few hours ago, but he remembers what Bobby said – he’s just protective; he’ll warm up to you – and he thinks that Bobby might be right.

“He’s cute,” Buck replies, and then he finally takes Eddie’s outstretched hand and shakes it. Eddie smiles at him and Buck smiles back, and Buck absolutely does not think about how he feels the warmth spreading from his hand all the way to his heart.

He wakes in the morning to a pounding on the front door.

“The fuck?” He grumbles to himself, rolling out of bed and putting on approximately three sweatshirts and a pair of slippers before trudging to the door, still clad in his plaid pajama pants.

He didn’t get much sleep, too wired from the night and too anxious from the move to do much other than sit on the bed and make renovation lists on his iPad. He also fell down a spiral of YouTube renovation videos and Pinterest boards filled with interior design tips and tricks.

So when he opens this door, his eyes are still crusty and blurry as he stares at Eddie Diaz, tool bag in one hand, coffee in the other, and a bright smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he grins, pushing past Buck and into the house for the second time in under 12 hours. He extends the coffee out to Buck, who blinks slowly at it for a few seconds before taking it in both hands. The warmth of the mug is soothing, and Buck thinks he could fall back asleep standing up if it weren’t for the handsome but slightly irritating man smiling in front of him.

“What time is it?” Buck grumbles, taking a sip of the coffee and letting the warmth spread through his chest. It’s good, whatever it is, some kind of gingerbread latte with whipped cream on top.

“Six,” Eddie deadpans as he sets his bag down and starts digging around in it.

Buck blinks at him. “Six AM?” He asks again, just to be sure, because there’s no way Eddie Diaz is showing up at his door at six AM, looking devilishly good and ready to work so early in the morning.

“You said first thing,” he says simply as he starts assessing the room around him. “So I’m thinking we can –”

“Actually!” Buck says quickly, running up the stairs so fast that Eddie pauses to blink after him. “I made spreadsheets!” He yells from the bedroom, grabbing his binders off the bed before running back down the stairs. He comes to a quick halt in front of Eddie again, ignoring how Eddie is just blinking at him with wide, surprised eyes. He opens the binder and starts flipping the pages. “One is ordered by room and then by order of importance, but then if you turn the page, you’ll find it color coded with blue being necessary for life, purple means I can live without it for a while, and green means that it doesn’t have to happen at all, but it would be cool. And there’s flow charts –”

Eddie is still blinking at him as Buck continues to flip through the pages. “Can I see that?” Eddie says after a few moments, holding out his hand. Buck places the binder in it, and Eddie glances at the first page for a few seconds before sighing.

“Why did you do this?” Eddie asks slowly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Buck shrugs. “And if I’m going to live here, I want it to be nice.”

“I’ll do a good job,” Eddie says. “If this is still about yesterday –”

“No!” Buck clears his throat. “No, no, I just – couldn’t sleep, and I like to make lists.”

He feels like he wants to take the binder and slam it shut, the embarrassment coursing through him in waves, but Eddie must sense what Buck’s about to do, because he holds the binder out of Buck’s reach, giving Buck a soft look before glancing down at the sheet again.

“Okay,” he says slowly after reading the page for a few moments, turning to start heading down the hallway as he talks. “So let’s start with the first on the list for the kitchen. We’ll try and get everything on the ‘necessary for life’ list out of the way for this room today.”

Buck preens and follows Eddie into the kitchen, babbling about the color of cabinets that he wants and the importance of having an electric stove over a gas stove, and he tries to ignore how his heart speeds up as Eddie’s smile grows and grows throughout the morning.

By the time it hits noon, Buck is starving. There’s obviously no food in the house, so the only thing he consumed all morning was the sugary latte that Eddie brought him.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him when his stomach lets out a loud growl. “Go get lunch,” he says, turning back to the section of floor that he’s currently working on.

“I could use a tour guide,” he replies, turning away to inspect the wall so that Eddie can’t see the flush that spreads up his neck. He doesn’t know what’s happening, because he used to be smooth , but there’s something about Eddie that makes him clam up like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Are you asking me to skip work?” There’s a smile in Eddie’s voice as he says it, and Buck turns around to see Eddie cheekily grinning over at him.

“I’m not paying you anything,” Buck shrugs. “You can do what you want.” Even though he really wants to beg Eddie to come with him, but that would be undignified.

Eddie just shakes his head with a smile, but then he’s pulling off his work gloves and washing his hands in the now functional sink.

“Let’s get lunch at Bobby’s and then I’ll show you around,” he says as he dries his hands off. He looks at Buck’s ugly brown coat with judging eyes before continuing, “And we’ll get you some proper winter clothes.”

They decide to walk into town, Eddie quickly waving the car off as they stroll past it. “It’s sunny out today,” he says instead, as if that’s any reason to walk in the snow.

Which, Buck thinks, maybe here it is.

His toes are already freezing just a few minutes into the walk, and he’s about to suggest that they stop for new boots first when Eddie starts talking.

“You know,” he says quietly, looking straight ahead and into the horizon. His eyes seem far away, but there’s a soft smile on his face. “We found this place because I just opened a map and had Christopher point, and wherever he landed was where we would go.”

Buck opens his mouth to reply with something , even though he’s not sure how to respond to that, but Eddie continues.

“So we end up here in Vail, and Christopher had never even seen a snowflake in real life at that point. But as soon as we pull up, he has his face pressed to the window of the car – fog is steaming up the window at that point – and he goes, ‘Dad. We’re home.’”

Buck thinks back to his uncle’s written words to him -- May your heart lead you home – and he wonders what it is about this place that seems to make people fall in love.

Eddie shoves his hands in his coat pockets and glances at Buck for just a second. “I thought, there’s no way this little ski town is going to be our home. We were from Texas, I had only been out of the army for a few months, and I couldn’t think about what could possibly be for us here.” He points up ahead to Bobby’s restaurant then, and Buck sees a small smile cross his face. “Then we met Bobby, who retired from the fire department to open a restaurant, and after talking for a bit and leaving with a pamphlet for the local fire academy, I thought that maybe Christopher was right, but time would have to tell. I didn’t start at the academy until recently, but Bobby will never let it go that he was right.”

And Buck knows that Eddie’s been here for a few years now. Buck himself has never stayed in one place for that long, but he isn’t sure if Eddie’s the same way or not. For all he knows, Eddie just settled because of Christopher.

He grabs the door to the restaurant and holds it open for Eddie as he asks, “And was Christopher right?”

Eddie just smiles and greets Bobby with a wave. “He thinks so,” he says slowly, and then he glances at Buck for a second as they make their way to the bar. “And I’m maybe starting to think so, too.”

After they eat, Bobby informs Buck that his sister will be in town with her husband and baby for a few weeks.

“To see me?” Buck asks with wide eyes. Bobby nods.

“Yes, and I need some help around here, so Chimney – her husband – is coming to help,” he says with a sigh. “Business is down, partially because I can’t keep up with everything on my own.”

Buck frowns. “You know, I’m not working . . .” He starts, but Bobby waves him off.

“You’re not here to work,” he says.

“But I need a job eventually,” Buck continues. “I can cook!”

Bobby pauses and squints at him for a second. Eddie is watching both of them with rapt attention. “You can cook?”

Buck grins. “Taught myself a few years ago. Had to keep myself alive somehow.”

Bobby nods, and Buck can tell that he’s doing some calculations in his head. “I can’t pay you much right now,” he says slowly. “So it’ll just be part-time, and then if business gets back up –”

“ When ,” Eddie corrects with a roll of his eyes.

Bobby huffs. “ When business gets back up, we can talk about full-time employment?”

Buck agrees, but he can’t stop thinking about how sparse it is in Bobby’s restaurant. It seems like more than just lack of staff, if Buck’s honest, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up.

One of Buck’s jobs back while he was bartending down in Peru was also putting together themed nights for the bar and pool area. He remembers every single night being a success, with his bosses commending him on his creativity. Buck always thought that it wasn’t exceptionally hard to please people once they had a few cocktails in their system, but he can’t help but wonder if maybe the restaurant needs some kind of thing to draw attention back to it.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, interrupting whatever Bobby and Buck were talking about. “Is there anything this town is missing? Any kind of food or whatever?”

Bobby and Eddie glance at each other with confused looks before looking back to Buck.

“Uh,” Eddie pauses to think for a moment. “Mr. Ray’s Pizzeria just closed? It was the only pizza place in town.”

Bobby nods. “We’ve been trying to get pizza on the menu, but, again, we don’t have enough cooks to be able to manage the influx of carryout orders that would bring, and I don’t think we even have enough kitchen space for a pizza oven.”

“Okay,” Buck says slowly, the gears churning as he tries to think of something – anything – that could maybe help this man and his restaurant. “What if we did, like, a pizza cookoff?”

Bobby blinks at him.

“People sign up, they can get sponsors, whatever, but everyone who signs up makes a pizza and there can be judges who then pick the best pizza for some kind of prize.” Buck is rambling through his brainstorm now. “It’ll bring customers in. You could have an assortment of food and drinks for sale. Other shops in town could have little stations.”

“Buck,” Eddie is looking at him with wide eyes. “This sounds like a lot.”

Buck looks over at Bobby, and Bobby has a soft, hesitant yet hopeful smile with his eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

“Okay,” Bobby says slowly after a few moments of silence. “Buck, you’re not working in the kitchen.”

Buck opens his mouth to protest, but Bobby quickly cuts him off. “You’re not cooking in the kitchen because you’re planning our pizza cookoff event.”

Later that evening, Buck is in his now-functional kitchen, cooking, of course, a pizza.

Eddie is over in the hallway fixing something on the floor. He’s still in earshot, so Buck says, “We need to find a professional chef to judge.” 

Eddie pokes his head into the kitchen, eyebrow raised. “We?” He asks.

“You’re in this with me now,” Buck says with a nod. “Plus, I’m paying you.” 

“No, you’re not.” Eddie rolls his eyes before disappearing back into the hallway. “Your uncle paid me.” 

Buck continues to make the pizza in silence after that, Eddie’s tools the only sound filling the space for a few moments. Since Eddie is apparently out, he needs to figure out how to convince chefs to judge the cookoff when he’s never even met them before. He’s pretty persuasive, he thinks, but he needs this to sound like a legit event, and -

“There’s a town not far from here,” Eddie’s voice breaks through Buck’s thoughts. Buck glances up at him only to see Eddie leaning against the kitchen wall, arms crossed, packed toolbag slung across his shoulder. “I know the owner of one of the restaurants.” 

“Oh,” Buck says. “You don’t have to -“

“I want to help,” Eddie replies quickly. “Bobby helped us a lot when we got here, so I want to help him.”

Buck nods and puts the pizza into the oven. He sets the timer and turns to look at Eddie again. “How do you know the owner?”

Eddie lets out a huff. “She’s my ex-wife and Christopher’s mom.”

Buck’s eyes widen, and he’s about to suggest that maybe that’s not a good idea, but Eddie waves him off. 

“We’re on good terms,” he says casually. “Joint decision, amicable split, and the fact that I’m gay never really meant we were going to last.”

And with that, Eddie turns on his heel to head towards the door, acting like he didn’t just spin Buck’s head on backwards with one simple phrase.

“I have to go pick Chris up from Abuela’s,” he says as he heads to the door. He turns to glance at Buck again, giving him a smile as he goes. “We can head out to see the restaurant and talk to her tomorrow? I have academy in the morning, but we can take Chris after school and go. He’ll be mad if I go see her without him.” 

And all Buck can do is nod and wave a hand goodbye, because Eddie just spun every single one of his thoughts around and left them in a jumble. 

The next day, Eddie picks Buck up from the chalet in his truck. 

Buck spent the day shopping for winter boots and a new coat, so when he enters Eddie’s truck with a dark navy down jacket on, Eddie just grins at him. 

“Nice coat,” Eddie grins as he backs out of the driveway. For a moment, Buck thinks it’s just the two of them, but then he remembers that Chris is coming with them. He turns and looks in the back of the truck, and Christopher is grinning at him with big, bright eyes. 

“Hi,” Buck says with a smile. “I’m Buck.”

“Dad says you parked in a non-parking zone.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and glances at Eddie out of the corner of his eyes. Eddie is focused on the road, but Buck can see that he’s fighting back a smile. 

“I did,” Buck admits. “And he scolded me.”

Chris nods like this makes complete sense. “He says you’re friends now, though.”

Buck hums and turns back around as Christopher starts chattering about his day. Eddie gives him a soft smile when they next come to a stop. Eddie’s fingers dance on the wheel in-time with the music playing on the radio, and Buck feels his heart floating into his throat. 

“We’re friends?” Buck asks him with a cheeky grin, and Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Eddie deadpans, and Buck and Christopher both laugh as they continue speeding through the snowy road. Buck tries to ignore the warmth in his chest as Chris continues to talk, but he’s starting to think that it might be there as long as Eddie’s next to him. 

Buck thinks that Shannon is lovely.

Her restaurant is small and chic, floor-to-ceiling windows with tablecloths and high-top stools. Every table is full, as far as Buck can tell, and there’s gentle and quiet music playing in the background. It is so different from Bobby’s place, but Buck understands the appeal of the ambiance here. It’s perfect for a ski town, a great place to wind down after a long day outdoors. 

“Mom!” Chris hollers as soon as they walk in, and all Buck sees is a flurry of brown hair rushing towards them and scooping Christopher up into a hug. She plants a kiss to his head before hugging him to her side, and when she comes back upright, she punches Eddie on the arm.

“You could have just texted,” Shannon tells him with a roll of her eyes. “I would have said yes.” 

Eddie frowns. “How do you –” 

“Bobby texted me yesterday,” she says. “Said he might need a judge for some competition?”

Buck and Eddie share a glance, and Buck just shrugs. It seems Bobby beat them to the punch. “That about sums it up, yeah,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Buck had a speech.” 

Her attention is drawn to Buck then, and Buck swears that he sees a glint of mischief in her eyes. 

“It wasn’t a speech,” he says slowly. “I was just going to say we could propose an alliance against this one –” he nods his head towards Eddie, “– if you agreed to help me.” 

“Hey!” Eddie protests as Shannon and Chris break out into fits of laughter. 

“Oh, I like him,” Shannon grins at Buck, loops their arms together, and starts dragging Buck into the kitchen. “We’re keeping him.” 

“ We’re not doing anything,” Eddie retorts as he trails after them, Christopher in tow. “I’m –” Eddie breaks off with a cough. Christopher giggles. 

“Yes?” Shannon raises an eyebrow at him, eyes gleaming with laughter. “What are you doing, Eddie?”

Eddie just grumbles and stalks off to the bar, muttering to himself about finding some hot chocolate.

“He knows the hot chocolate is back here,” Shannon says as she slides two empty mugs in front of Buck and Christopher. She glances at Buck as she fills his mug, and Buck feels himself averting his gaze at the last second. He can’t tell what she’s thinking, but he feels like he’s being analyzed. 

They talk about details shortly after, Buck quickly diverting her attention to the finer details and they solidify a date within fifteen minutes. Two weeks might not be enough time, but Buck isn’t really sure how long he plans to stay in Vail. And, truthfully, it’s not like there’s much else for him to do here.

Eddie stalks back into the kitchen halfway through, grouchily taking a mug from Shannon before sitting off to the side next to Christopher. They continue to talk and plan, and Buck watches as Eddie slowly relaxes with each sip of his hot chocolate. 

“Have you been skiing yet, Buck?” Shannon asks, just as the dinner rush is starting and Shannon clearly needs to get back to work. 

“Can you even ski?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow. Buck huffs.

“I grew up with snow,” Buck shrugs. “I can ski.” 

“You should ski back to Vail,” Shannon says with a smile. “It’s a pretty easy trail, and at this time of the evening, the sun is just gorgeous with the snow.” 

Buck nods, although he thinks he’ll probably get lost if he tries to do it by himself. Eddie must read his mind, though, because he just nods his head towards Chris and looks at Shannon.

“Could you drive him home so that I can go with Buck?” Eddie asks her. “With his luck, he’ll get lost without a trail guide.” 

“I have a phone,” Buck deadpans, even though he was just thinking the same thing. But he’s actually not that helpless, thank you very much.

Eddie and Shannon both wave him off at the same time, and Buck can see how they were married for as long as they were. They’re both sarcastic and witty, dry humor, teasing eyes. He thinks they were probably a good pair – that they are still a good pair – but Buck knows that’s not always enough to make someone stay. 

Shannon, apparently, has skis in the backroom of the restaurant, because that’s just something people keep on them at all times here. Eddie leads them to the room as they bid Shannon farewell, numbers exchanged so that Buck can contact her with more details later and promises to have Christopher returned to Eddie at a reasonable hour. 

Skis and gloves on, Buck watches as they slowly start the trek back to Vail. He can see the treads on the snow, the path clearly well worn and frequently used. He definitely could have skied back on his own with no difficulties, thank you very much. But he has to admit that it is nicer having someone at his side.

The sun is pink in the horizon, just starting its descent and emitting a light glow across the smooth expanse of snow. Everything is lit up pink and purple and orange, and when he glances over at Eddie, Eddie’s green coat is reflecting the light, illuminating his face and making him look like a dream. Buck has to glance away and ignores the skipping of his heart.

Eddie is silent next to him. All Buck can hear are their skis against the snow, their poles pinging with every push forward. Time passes, and Buck nods his head at everyone they pass, surprised by how friendly everyone really is here. It’s a contrast from what he grew up with in Pennsylvania, and he’s suddenly so thankful that Chris gets to grow up in a place like this. 

When he glances at Eddie again, it’s to find Eddie already looking at him with a soft smile. 

“What?” He asks, frowning and examining his own shadow to see if something is off.

Eddie just shakes his head. “Nothing,” he replies quietly. “I just . . .” Eddie trails off and looks back into the distance, and Buck so badly wants him to finish his sentence. 

He just what? He just wants to be back in town? He just wants to eat dinner? He just . . . Buck swallows and doesn’t let himself think about any other justs.

They continue their trek in silence, and when they start a brief downhill slope just as they round into town, Buck feels his skis catch on a patch of ice. “Whoa!” He says sharply, and he reaches out to Eddie just as Eddie grabs at his elbow to try and steady him. Buck grips onto Eddie’s coat jacket tightly, but all it does it manage to bring Eddie down and into the snow with him. They collide together and slide down the rest of the small hill. Once they’re settled at the bottom, Buck’s face is covered with snow and his pants feel soaked, but the most noticeable thing is the warm weight of Eddie pressed on top of him. 

Eddie shakes snow off his face, flakes falling from where they lodged themselves into his hair, and he looks down at Buck with wide eyes. Buck can feel Eddie’s breath blowing across his face, the snow dripping from his hair and landing on Buck’s nose. Eddie smells like cedar and hot chocolate, and Buck is half tempted to wrap his arms around him and let them both freeze to death in the snow if it means keeping him close. 

Eddie’s eyes drop down to his mouth for just a second, and Buck feels himself lick his lips in response. Eddie’s pupils dilate a little, Buck’s breathing picks up a notch, his hands now wrapped around Eddie without any conscious thought of his own, and he thinks that he’s just about to lift up and kiss him when they hear the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow towards them. 

“Buck? Eddie?” Bobby’s voice sounds from just a few feet away now. Eddie quickly pushes off of Buck and holds a hand out to pull him up. 

Bobby raises an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two of them. “Am I interrupting?” Bobby asks slowly.

“No!” Buck stammers, just as Eddie says, “Nope, all good!”

Bobby’s eyebrow just raises higher. Buck ducks his head and coughs. 

“Well,” Bobby drawls slowly after a few more seconds of Buck and Eddie standing a safe three feet away from each other. “I came to tell you that Maddie and Chimney just arrived.” 

Buck sits across from Maddie in Bobby’s restaurant, more hot chocolate in front of him – he doesn't think he’s drunk this much hot cocoa in his life – and all he’s doing is staring at her.

He feels -- a little bit unraveled, if he’s being honest. Maddie, after so many years of having no contact with her, is sitting in front of her, and all Buck wants to do is hug her and never let her go.

Granted, he did just that for approximately five minutes when he first walked into the restaurant, but still. She’s beautiful sitting in front of him, and she looks happy with a lovely glow to her as she watches Buck with worried eyes. Buck takes another sip of hot chocolate, ignoring how his hands are shaking, but as soon as he sets the mug down, Maddie places a gentle hand on his arm to steady him.

He can feel Eddie, Bobby, and Chimney gossiping off to the side like a group of hens – none of them wanting to move out of sight, but being respectful enough to at least be out of earshot. 

“I haven’t received a postcard since Peru,” Maddie says quietly, playing with her hands on the table. “Two years ago?”

Buck nods. “You stopped responding.” 

“Doug –” She takes a breath. “He was starting to get suspicious. I had all my mail rerouted to a PO box, and then he found out about that when he saw one of my replies, so I just . . .” 

“Stopped,” Buck breathes. He kind of can’t believe that she’s sitting in front of him right now, whole and alive and happy. “I get it. That’s why I stopped, too.” 

“I would have written more recently,” she says quickly. “When I moved here, I realized I didn’t have your number anymore because I had to get rid of my phone when I left Doug, and then I didn’t know where you were, and – and I never thought to ask Uncle Ed if he knew where you were, I didn't think he would know, and  – I am so sorry, Evan.” She breathes it out all in one sentence, tears brimming in her eyes, and Buck reaches out and places his hand on top of hers. 

“What happened?” He asks, voice cautious and quiet. “With Doug?”

Maddie tells him about leaving Doug, about Doug following her, stalking her, about Doug getting caught and arrested and put in jail with a strong restraining order in place for if he’s ever released. She met Chimney shortly after moving to Colorado, and her eyes get all soft and dreamy as she starts telling him about Jee-Yun and the life they built together. 

It sounds nice, the idea of settling down and building a home with someone. He kind of wants it for himself, if he’s honest, but he doesn't think that anyone has ever seen him like that. He’s never been a permanent fixture in someone’s life, never been someone that they wanted to keep around. He’s always just been a temporary placeholder, a quick lay, a quick fix, someone to fill in the gaps wherever they existed. And when the gaps were finally sealed up, Buck found himself cast aside and left to find somewhere new. 

He glances over at Eddie, surprised to see that Eddie’s already watching him. Eddie mouths, “You okay?” at him, and Buck just nods subtly in reply. It feels like he’s known Eddie for a lot longer than a few days which, frankly, terrifies him if he thinks about it for too long. It will make leaving that much harder once everyone here decides that they have no use for him anymore. 

His conversation with Maddie eventually shifts to the restaurant and the pizza cookoff – which Maddie names ‘Pizzafest’ just because she can – and Maddie volunteers Chimney’s help with planning and set up and anything else that’s necessary. She takes on the task of talking to the other shops to see if they want to participate as vendors, claiming that nobody can say no to Jee’s cuteness.

By the time Maddie and Chimney leave for the night – they’re staying in the local inn for the next few weeks – Bobby and Eddie have strayed away from their gossip corner. Buck wanders throughout the restaurant until he finds them in a room to the side of the restaurant that’s currently just used for storage. He hears the  voices before he fully rounds the corner, and he’s just about to enter the room when he pauses and listens, not wanting to immediately interrupt. 

“This room could be where all the pizzas go and the judging takes place,” Eddie says, looking around. “I could take out that wall and repaint, and –” 

“Eddie,” Bobby says quietly, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” Eddie replies. 

“You have nothing to prove to me,” Bobby continues, voice low. “You have nothing to prove to anyone, Eddie.” 

Eddie shrugs his hand off and turns back to the room. “You could use this space for carryout after the festival,” Eddie continues on, as if Bobby never even spoke. He gestures to the side of the room, towards a window and the wall that shares with the exterior. “You could put a door right here so that it’s a whole separate entrance. You could even expand the kitchen into this space. It would make room for a pizza oven.” 

Bobby seems like he’s about to argue until the last sentence. He pauses. “A stone oven . . .” Bobby murmurs, and then he starts pacing the room and muttering to himself. 

Buck fully enters the room then, making his way over to Eddie as he examines the wall he said he wants to take out. 

“I’ll help,” Buck says quietly. “I’ve done renovations before.” 

Eddie just nods instead of putting up a fight like Buck expected. “I’ll need it if we want to have it done in time.” 

And this is how it goes for the two weeks – Buck and Eddie fix up the room and practically forget about the chalet for the time being. It’s enough for Buck to survive in for now and, truthfully, Buck spends more time in the restaurant or at Eddie’s house than he does at the chalet. He hangs out with Chris and Eddie on the weekends when they’re not working at the restaurant, he helps Bobby in the kitchen when he’s bored, and he even picks Christopher up from school a few times when Eddie’s running late after a long day at the academy. He and Eddie share a beer once Chris is in bed, and Buck is surprised by how much Eddie tells him about his life -- his relationship with Shannon and his parents, his time in the army. Eddie admits to him that since Buck arrived, his routine has been completely broken, and when Buck tries to apologize, Eddie just shakes his head with a smile and changes the topic.

When Eddie accidentally touches his waist once, Buck thinks that he sees stars, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s only been a week and a few days, but Buck can fully admit now that he thinks he’s well on his way to falling in love with Eddie. Eddie will smile at him and Buck feels alive, and he’ll catch Eddie looking at him when he thinks Buck isn’t looking. It’s terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, but he doesn’t want to fully admit it if he’s just going to leave anyway. But Eddie looks at him and Buck feels like his heart lit up in his chest, and Eddie nudges him when they’re silently laughing at something together and Buck wants to hold him and never let him go.

It’s fine. Buck is coping.

Maddie flits in and out of the restaurant with news of another local vendor who wants to participate, and soon their count is to at least 15 individual businesses. Bobby is in a flurry around the restaurant, making sure that everything is in tip-top shape, and Chimney is taking orders from everyone like a champ.

And Buck –

Buck can’t think about how all of this will end as soon as the festival’s over. It will either go great and Bobby’s business will be booming, and then he’ll have no need for Buck to stay around because everything will be perfect. Or it’ll go so poorly that he’ll never want to see Buck again. 

He often thinks of where he’ll go next, and he can’t really picture anywhere other than the snowy chalet on the mountain. It doesn’t help that he owns it now – not having a mortgage is really fucking nice – but he doesn't want to overstay his welcome if he’s not wanted. 

Maybe California. He could look into the LAFD, try and find a place close to the beach. Or he could call Connor from Peru, see where he’s at and if he needs a roommate again . . . 

Buck sighs as he pushes the door to the restaurant open. It’s the night before the festival, the restaurant is closed to the public for the day, and the only thing not yet finished is the spare room. 

He makes his way to the room, waving at Bobby who has holed himself in the kitchen for the entire day to prepare food for the event. Bobby waves back and gestures with his head towards the room, a clear confirmation for his silent question about where he can find Eddie. 

When he enters the room, Buck expects it to look like it did when he left yesterday – about 75% done, not yet painted, painter’s tape around all the edges with the furniture all pushed into the corner of the main room. 

But when he rounds the corner, he freezes in place as he takes in his surroundings.

Because the room is done. Painted a pleasing bluish-gray to match the rest of the restaurant with fairy lights strung to the ceiling. There’s a big square of rectangle tables in the center of the room, flowers and tasteful balloons around the exterior with a few cocktail tables around the edges, fake candles on top of them – because “Candles are a fire hazard, Buck, what kind of firefighter would I be if I allowed real candles in here?” – and the whole room has such a pleasant glow that it makes Buck feel settled for once in his life. 

Eddie is standing at the edge of the room, looking out the window next to the newly constructed door that leads to the exterior. He’s wearing jeans and a dark green henley that’s rolled up to his elbows, and with the fairy lights causing him to lightly glow in the fading evening, Buck has to catch his breath before he gasps out loud. 

“When did you do this?” Buck asks after a few more moments of silence. Eddie turns around and smiles softly at him but he makes no inclination to move closer, so Buck closes the distance between them until he’s standing right next to Eddie in the window. 

“Six AM,” Eddie says softly, a small grin on his face. Buck huffs and rolls his eyes. 

“You love your early starts,” he replies with a shake of his head. He sobers up quickly, though, looking up at the fairy lights again as he says, “It looks so good, Eddie, really. Bobby will be thrilled.” 

Eddie just looks at him and smiles again. 

“Buck,” he whispers, taking a step closer. Buck swallows as his whole field of vision becomes Eddie. He has a smattering of stubble across his jaw and his eyes are sparkling under the fairy lights. He exhales and Buck feels it blow across his face. He doesn’t move as Eddie reaches out towards him, one of his arms reaching to Buck and gripping his forearm, and he doesn’t dare even take a breath as Eddie trails his hand down to Buck’s own, touch light against the tendrils against Buck’s forearm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and he laces their fingers together once he’s at his destination. 

Eddie takes another step closer and Buck finally lets out a breath. 

“Thank you for your help,” Eddie whispers, and he’s so close now that Buck can see every speck in his eyes. He can almost feel Eddie’s lips against his with every word, can almost taste him with every breath. “You didn’t have to do any of this for us, you know.” 

Buck just shrugs. “I wanted to.” 

“I know,” Eddie murmurs in reply. His other hand comes to cup Buck’s jaw, and Buck feels his breath stutter in his chest. “And that’s why I want to do this.” 

And when Eddie leans in and kisses him, Buck thinks he actually might light on fire. 

Buck quietly gasps against his mouth as Eddie holds him even closer, his hand sliding to the back of Buck’s head to hold his face against his own. Buck’s own arms come to wrap around Eddie’s shoulders, tugging him against him. He bites at Eddie’s lip and Eddie lets out a small groan before letting him in, and Buck tilts his head down and kisses Eddie back with everything he has. Eddie’s mouth is soft and pliant against his own, his own breathing speeding up with every touch of their lips, and Buck swears that he hasn’t let out a single breath when he feels his back hit the nearest wall. 

Eddie slots in against him, mouth now trailing against his jaw and down his throat as Buck clutches at the back of his sweater. His body is hot against his own, muscles ripping with every movement, and Buck lets out a quiet moan as Eddie bites gently at the skin just above his collarbone. 

There’s too much to think about, too many strings attached to this, but all he can think about right now is Eddie and Eddie’s smell and his mouth and his body pressing Buck more and more into the wall. So he slides his arms tighter around Eddie and nips at his earlobe, one of his hands quickly untucking Eddie’s sweater and sliding up under it, the warm skin of his back meeting the clammy skin of Buck’s palm. Eddie lets out a long, low groan, and when Buck whispers, “Take me home,” into his ear, when Eddie is pressing him into the bed back at the chalet, when he’s moaning around Buck and Buck is clutching at the sheets with one hand fisted in Eddie’s hair . . . well. Buck’s not thinking about any of the strings at all. 

In the morning, Buck wakes to Eddie’s arms around him, his gentle snores puffing against the back of his neck. He glances at his phone, thanking everything that is holy when he sees it’s nine AM and not six, but he knows that means they won’t get much time here before they have to get ready and head to the restaurant. Everything is set to start at three PM, and Buck knows that Eddie is twitching to get there as soon as possible. 

He presses a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder before rolling out of the bed. He slips on his slippers and pads down the stairs and into the kitchen, and he picks his phone off the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew.

He furrows his brow when he sees that he has a missed message from Connor, his friend back from his days in Peru. 

“Buckley!” Connor’s voice sounds from the message. “Hey, man, a few of my buddies are heading to Los Angeles and we need a fourth roomie! Saw on Facebook that you’re in Colorado now but I know you’re always down for a new place, never staying anywhere too long, so call me and we’ll get you signed onto the lease!” 

That’s all the message says, and it feels like it ends before it even starts. He frowns at his phone and wonders if he should just delete the message, but something makes him keep it.

He shuts his phone off and pours himself a mug of coffee and then a second one for Eddie. 

He doesn't think that he wants to go to California anymore. He’s not sure if he’ll stay here – if he’ll be welcome here, once the festival’s over – but he’s not sure that living with Connor and his bros is what he wants to do. But – Connor is asking for him, he’s requesting his presence, and Buck’s never really had that before. 

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and he’s just about to head back up the stairs when Eddie quietly pads into the kitchen, feet clad in socks with one of Buck’s hoodies over his chest. It’s bigger on him than it is on Buck, but seeing Eddie in a sweatshirt that says Montana on the front and Buckley on the back does something embarrassing to Buck’s insides. 

“Morning,” Eddie mumbles, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Buck’s mouth before grabbing one of the mugs from Buck’s hands. He takes a long sip, and Buck watches him, commits him to memory, just in case this ends before it ever really begins. 

“That was mine,” Buck grumbles, but Eddie just shrugs and takes another sip. 

They get ready together mostly without incident – Buck only pushes Eddie into the bed once for a few minutes, okay, he’s only a man – and by the time they make it into the restaurant, Buck is just about dying with desire to reach out for his hand.

He wants to touch Eddie, wants to keep a hand on his waist, an arm around his shoulders. He wants to kiss him when he walks into a room and when he leaves, and he wants to squeeze his hand in reassurance whenever he thinks Eddie needs it. 

And that terrifies him.

Eddie is maybe standing a little closer than normal as they walk through the restaurant with Bobby and Shannon, making sure that everything is set up and running through the events of the day. Shannon gives Eddie a look, eyebrow raised, and Eddie just coughs and looks down, but it must be enough because Shannon just grins at Buck with an expression that says they’ll be talking about this later. 

Before Buck knows it, the festival is starting and the place is swarmed with people – vendors and visitors, travelers staying up at the lodge and even people that have wandered from Denver. Bobby is watching the whole thing in wide-eyed wonder, and Buck sees him scurry into the back to probably make even more food, the turnout that unexpected. 

Buck stays close to Eddie’s side the whole time, neither of them really having that much to do other than make sure the whole event goes smoothly. He mingles and accepts praise about organizing such a fun event, and he only blushes a few times when Bobby brings him to the center of attention time and time again. 

The pizza cookoff goes out without a hitch, Shannon seeming pleasantly surprised by the quality of pizzas presented, and it’s to everyone’s shock when it’s not Bobby’s pizza that’s selected, but Athena’s, a local police sergeant who regularly frequents the restaurant.

He sees her meet Bobby’s raised eyebrow with one of her own, and Buck really wonders how that’s going to play out.

The music plays around him, and it feels too good to be true, like it’s too much, like it’s going to all disintegrate around him if he blinks for a second too long. He hasn’t felt like this in – well, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this. 

He’s just about to head to the tasting room for another slice of pizza, but two voices from the room cause him to pause in his steps. 

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Buck hears Eddie murmur. He can’t see Bobby, but he can hear the surprise in his voice when he replies. 

“Buck?” 

“He brings me out of my box, Bobby. He came into town and parked in the fucking no-parking zone and I yelled at him, and starting at that moment, it made me feel like . . . myself. He makes me feel like myself again. Like I don’t have to prove myself with every little thing I do. ” 

Bobby hums. “I’ve never seen you like this.” 

And Eddie says, “That’s because I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this.” 

And Buck quickly takes a few steps backwards, towards the bar, because . . . 

Because Eddie wants him just as much as Buck wants him, or at least he thinks he wants Buck. But nobody ever wants Buck for a long time, and Buck should maybe just leave before the hurt becomes even worse. 

A brief touch to his arm snaps him out of his thoughts. He glances to the side and sees Eddie smiling tentatively at him, people dancing to the music behind him. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie asks him quietly, and Buck has always been a masochist, so he says yes. 

Eddie holds him close as they sway to the music, and Buck can see Christopher and Shannon over Eddie’s shoulder, Christopher propped up on Shannon’s feet as she spins him. He smiles, absorbing it all, putting everything around him to memory as he attempts to avoid Eddie’s gaze. 

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs after a few seconds, clearly picking up on Buck’s avoidance. “What’s wrong?”

Buck just shakes his head and holds Eddie closer. Eddie’s hands are hot on his waist even through the fabric of his shirt, and Buck leans his head against the side of Eddie’s, nose buried in his hair as he closes his eyes and just feels Eddie pressed against him. He doesn't deserve this, really, doesn’t deserve to have Eddie, doesn’t deserve to string him along when it was always going to have one ending. 

But just like last night, he kisses Eddie and lets himself be kissed, his hands framing Eddie’s face as he tastes him one last time. He knows that it’s maybe a little too intense for the dancefloor surrounded by families and children, but Buck wants his last one to be one to remember. 

And when he steps away, he can see in Eddie’s eyes that he knows. 

“You’re leaving?” Eddie asks, voice breaking at the last word. “But –” 

“I’m sorry,” is all Buck says, and then he’s stepping away and rushing out of the restaurant. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie’s face fall, his eyebrows furrowing, but Buck fades into the crowd, people swarming around him and music playing in the air. He doesn’t hear Eddie call his name as he rushes to the entrance, the radio feeling like a joke as it switches to an upbeat song. 

He doesn’t deserve to want to stay, it feels too good to want to stay. Maddie is close, and there’s Eddie and Bobby, and he’ll only be making everyone's pain worse if he hangs around and lets everyone get attached. It’s only a matter of days before his time here runs out, and it’ll only hurt more if he overstays his welcome. 

He steps into the chalet, and he shouldn’t be surprised to see that Eddie beat him here. Eddie already let himself inside with the key Buck gave him for renovations, and he’s waiting for Buck by the staircase with his arms crossed and worry in his eyes. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice firm now. “You can’t –” 

“It’s better this way,” Buck grunts as he pushes past him and heads up the stairs two at a time. He can hear Eddie following him, but he doesn’t turn his head to look back at him. 

“It’s not ,” Eddie is basically fuming now as he follows him. Buck starts to just throw his stuff into a duffle bag, surprised by how many new things he’s accumulated just in his short time here. Eddie continues, “How can you –” 

“I don’t – deserve this,” Buck stutters as he cuts Eddie off, turning to face Eddie now. “People don’t want to keep me around. Nobody wants me to stay for too long. You’ll all get sick of me eventually, so I might as well just cut the ties now.” 

“Buck, that’s not –” Eddie tries again, but Buck pushes past him.

“This isn’t my home” he whispers, throwing his bags over his shoulder and pushing towards the stairs. “I don’t -- belong here, Eddie. You may think you want me now, but I can’t . . . It’ll hurt more for everyone if I stay. This is for the best.” 

He thinks Eddie starts to protest, but he’s already down the stairs and out of the house, out of earshot, Eddie’s reply drowning into the darkness of the night as Buck pulls away in his rental car. 

He grips the steering wheel tightly on the way to the airport. The road is slick and snowy, and Buck tries his hardest to focus so that he doesn’t dive off the road and into a ditch. He holds it together as he purchases a last minute ticket to California that is way more expensive than he would like -- he didn’t even know this was a thing people could do outside of the movies -- and he heads towards his terminal with a stony face, the perfect image of composed heartbreak. He has one duffle bag in tow with the other one checked at baggage claim. 

He keeps telling himself that this is for the best. He’s meant for living a life on the road, no strings keeping him anywhere. There’s nothing to hurt if there’s nothing for him to feel. He might even be meant for the sun rather than the snow. He has Maddie’s number so he’ll keep in touch, but he doesn't think that he’ll ever set foot in Vail again. He’s sure the chalet will sell for a pretty penny.

He opens his phone to turn it off for the flight, and he sees that he has a few missed calls from Bobby, Chimney, Shannon, but the only one he opens is from Maddie.

Do what you have to do, it says, and it’s followed by a second one. But know that I love you. And I think he loves you, too. 

Buck’s chest aches. He isn’t sure what the feeling is, but it’s like his chest is going to split in half, like his blood is going to spill out on the airport floor. It feels like the grief is going to come out of him in raging sobs, and when he thinks of Vail . . . 

It feels like he’s leaving home, like he’s heartbroken, like he’s left half of himself behind.

And, suddenly, he thinks back to the phone call with the lawyer. The shock of having an uncle he didn’t know about followed by the shock of inheriting a house in Colorado. And then, the confusion, his uncle’s last instructions for him to follow . . .

May your heart lead you home.

Buck is up and out of his chair so fast that he startles the woman next to him. 

“Sorry,” he says quickly, turning before her startled eyes can make any inquiring questions. He grabs his duffle bag and heads to baggage claim, where he proceeds to beg the lady to give him his bag back. 

“Please,” he begs. “I have to get home.” 

The word sounds foreign on his tongue, but not unwelcome. It’s not something he’s ever had before, home, not something he’s ever really considered he could have. 

But he thinks of Maddie, of Eddie, of the half finished chalet up on the hill. He thinks of Chris and his smile and Shannon’s knowing eyes, Bobby’s fond looks, and all he wants is to go home .

“I’ll send a request down, but if it’s already loaded onto the plane –” She starts. Buck huffs and is just about to start an argument about how he needs his bag when he hears someone clear their throat behind him.

“Buck.” The voice sounds distant and rough, and Buck quickly spins on his heels, looking for the source of the voice, because he would really recognize it anywhere. Eddie is standing on the other side of the baggage carousel, his eyes wild as he gauges Buck’s reaction. Buck wants to run and leap into his arms, but he feels frozen in place by Eddie’s gaze.

“Sir,” the woman at the counter says. “Sir, they’re sending your baggage up, it’ll be on carousel five in a few minutes.” 

“Thanks,” Buck tells her absently, but then he’s moving, feet taking him across the floor and closer to Eddie. 

He feels his chest stitching back up, the blood flowing through his arteries again. He feels his heart mending, his brain calming, his shaking hands coming to a stop as he pauses a few feet in front of Eddie. It feels like he’s tethered to Eddie, like he belongs to him, like he’s coming home. 

“You can’t leave,” Eddie says quickly, quietly, and at the same time that Buck says, “I love you.” 

Eddie pauses, mouth open in surprise as he looks at Buck, but Buck takes that as his opportunity to continue.

“I love you,” he says again. “And historically people I love, they – they leave.” 

“I won’t leave,” Eddie whispers. “I won’t.” 

Buck nods, and he takes a final step closer. Eddie reaches out to grasp his hands and Buck lets him. His hands are clammy against Buck’s own, clearly sweaty from the nerves he probably had on the drive over.

But here Eddie stands – Eddie, who is asking him to stay. Eddie, who drove all the way to the airport to make sure he didn’t leave.

Nobody has ever fought for Buck like that before, and all Buck’s ever wanted was for someone to want him to stay. 

“Being here feels like home,” Buck whispers as Eddie leans even closer. Their lips are brushing now, and Buck wants so badly to close the gap and kiss him. 

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, one of his hands moving from Buck’s own to wrap around his waist. “Buck. I was – I was drowning before you got here. I was just Chris’s grumpy dad, just the old guy in the fire academy, just the contractor who kept to himself and enforced the no-parking zones.” 

Buck snorts, and Eddie continues. 

“You made me feel like myself again,” he says quietly. “I came here because I didn’t feel like myself in Texas, and I couldn’t be myself while I was with Shannon. But you . . .” He trails off and smiles. “I haven’t felt like this before.” 

Buck smiles at him then, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of Eddie’s head, fingers threading in his soft hair.

“Eddie,” he whispers into his mouth. “I’ve never had a home.” 

“I know,” Eddie murmurs in reply. He starts to lean in, but Buck has to stop him, as much as it pains him, because he has one more thing to say.

“It’s not this place that feels like home.” He’s the one leaning in now, because he doesn’t think he can’t not kiss him for any longer. “It’s you . You feel like home.” 

Eddie kisses him then, his mouth warm against Buck’s own. Buck’s hand threads in his hair and holds Eddie close, and they kiss and kiss in the airport baggage claim for so long that Buck is surprised they haven’t been kicked out. 

He wants this forever – wants the hello kisses and the goodbye kisses, the see-you-soon and the I-missed-you kisses. He wants Eddie by his side, wants to be able to wrap his arm around his waist and press a kiss to his temple whenever he feels like it. And as Eddie kisses him, he thinks that he might actually deserve to have this. Someone wants him to stay, so he’s staying.

Soon, it’s just their two smiles pressed against one another, and Buck thinks that this is what coming home should feel like. 

“I have a confession,” Eddie breathes when they finally pull apart. Buck feels a small hint of panic, but Eddie just shakes his head. “Nothing bad, exactly. Just . . .” 

Buck raises an eyebrow at him and Eddie ducks his head and huffs.

“If I told you that your uncle didn’t actually pay for all the renovations up front . . . ?” Eddie starts and trails off, ending it like a question, and Buck looks at him with wide eyes for a moment before it clicks into place.

“Eddie,” he deadpans. “Did you lie?” 

“No!” Eddie starts, hands now gripping the front of Buck’s coat as he starts to laugh. “I mean – he did pay me! For the kitchen and the paint only, though.” 

“Oh my god,” Buck rolls his eyes into the ceiling and groans. Eddie buries his head in Buck’s chest. “You have a crush on me.” 

“No I don’t!” Eddie grumbles into his chest. “Shut up.” 

“You were doing free labor to spend time with me.” Buck feels filled with glee as he says it. “Stupid for you financially, but effective.” 

“Oh my god, shut up, I never want to hear about this again.” Eddie takes Buck’s hand and starts dragging him out of the airport. Buck pauses at carousel five to grab his duffle bag and then lets himself be dragged to Eddie’s truck. “I am so serious, Buck, do not ever bring this up again –” 

Buck sits in the passenger seat and lets Eddie yammer on about his transgression. Eddie’s hand is warm on his thigh, and Buck watches as Eddie smiles despite his rant, the snow fading behind him as they drive and the moon shining in the distance. 

Home, Buck thinks, feels just like this. 

A year later, Buck is standing in the firestation of Vail, Colorado. He’s in a uniform himself, having just finished at the academy and now entering his probationary year.

But right now, he’s in his dress blues, watching Eddie shake their Captain’s hand as he congratulates Eddie on passing his probationary year.

“Firefighter Diaz,” he says with a smile, and Buck sees Eddie duck his head and preen. “Congratulations.” 

He grins over at Chimney and Maddie, Jee propped on her lap. They moved from Denver to Vail six months ago when Bobby offered business partnership to Chimney, and Chim had said yes before Bobby was even finished with his sentence. 

Chris is next to him, bouncing in his chair as he watches his dad move to shake the Chief’s hand. 

“Buck,” Chris whispers, tugging on his sleeve. “When are you going to do it?”

Buck smiles at him and ruffles his hair, turning back to look at Eddie again with a smile. He palms his pocket with his other hand and feels the small, square box in it. He has to check every so often to make sure it’s still there, but when he feels it this time, he knows that it won’t be with him much longer.

“Soon,” Buck tells Chris. He looks back at Eddie again, only to find that Eddie is looking right at him. And just like always, when Eddie smiles at him, Buck feels like he’s coming home.