I hide myself within my flower

The summer in LA is scorching hot; the heat is brewing stupidity among the citizens of LA, it has now been a month since Chris left for Texas, and Eddie Diaz is losing his mind.
Every day feels like it is the worst day of his life. Until a mysterious bouquet of flowers shows up at the firehouse with a flirty message, and Eddie spirals.
Who is sending him romantic gifts, and why does it make him feel so good?

Notes:

Sooo... I haven't written a fanfic in almost ten years, and I kind of just wanted to test myself and see if it's something I still enjoy.
I also just really want Eddie Diaz to be romanced a little bit.
The title is based on an Emily Dickinson poem (but that's a spoiler ;))

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The summer in LA is scorching hot. The heat is brewing stupidity among the citizens of LA, it has now been a month since Chris left for Texas, and Eddie Diaz is losing his mind.

“How on earth does anyone get stuck outside a building?”

The 118 is speeding through the city on their ninth call of the day; and sweat and exhaustion have already shortened Eddie’s temper.

“I mean how can anyone be that stupid?”

He looks around at his team exasperatedly. Chim snickers in silent agreement. Hen doesn’t react. Next to him, Buck is looking at him worriedly. It’s Bobby who answers.

“According to dispatch, his office building cut down on AC usage and the room temperature is ‘like a sauna’, his own words. So he opened the window and noticed a ledge a few feet underneath it, crawled down to get the most out of his break, and is now stuck.”

Eddie sighs in disbelief. He wears his irritation on his sleeves and tries not to let it get to him. But it settles in him like the sweat decorating his forehead. Every day he wakes up and feels like he is experiencing the worst day of his life, and as the day goes on, he is proven right each time. Buck’s leg is nudging his knee, and he is taken out of his trance. He looks up and meets Buck’s tender gaze. And it’s almost enough to pull him out of his misery. Almost.

In the end, it turns out to be a pretty easy rescue. The crane is tall enough to reach the unfortunate man’s window, and he is hauled to safety without a scratch, though with a pretty bad sunburn and some serious dehydration.

On the way back, he thinks about how on any other day, in a universe where Christopher is still in LA, waiting for him to come home after a long shift, this rescue would have been a pretty good story to tell. But there is no one to tell it to, and in the tightly seated fire truck, Eddie does his best to not make eye contact with anyone.

The second they get back to the station, Buck corners him in the locker room.

“Hey, are you okay? Maybe you should sit the next one out, take a breather.”

Buck, forever the protector, has spent the best part of the summer checking up on Eddie at every chance he’s gotten. If he wasn’t cooking him dinner every night, it was trips to the beach, to the mall, to endless activities. Let’s go surfing , he would say, we haven’t done that in a while . As if Eddie wasn’t aware that he was just trying to distract him or cheer him up. He even insisted Eddie try to reinvent himself with a new haircut, and when Eddie retaliated by getting a moustache, it was met with a staunch amount of teasing from the entire team, and Eddie mostly kept it out of pettiness. To get Buck off his back, he would usually retort with a shouldn’t you be hanging out with your boyfriend? , and usually that would help. Buck would get a sad look in his eyes, and Eddie would be filled with immense amounts of guilt. Until they inevitably broke up, and Eddie had no excuse to wallow in his own loneliness.

Now, he tries to ignore him by slowly slipping out of his sweat-stained t-shirt, hoping Buck will take the hint and leave him alone. But when he’s finally pulled the shirt off, Buck’s eyes are still burning into him.

“I’m fine, Buck. I’m just hot.” They both know it’s a lie. Eddie throws his shirt into his bag to take home for washing and gathers a towel from the locker. Meanwhile, Buck is still staring at him. Avoiding his eyes, he lets the towel slowly caress his body, drying away the droplets of sweat that didn’t cling to his shirt. Feeling disgusted and sad that he won’t get to take a shower till later, he forgets he is supposed to ignore Buck, and accidentally meets his eyes. Buck quickly looks away, bashful and a little flushed.

Suddenly feeling naked, Eddie finds a clean shirt and quickly throws it on. Buck, a little bit subdued, breaks the silence. “Has he still not answered your texts?”

Eddie shakes his head, unable to get his words out.

“He’ll come around, I know he will. With a little bit of time…”

He can’t help it that he snaps. “But how much more time? It’s been weeks , Buck!”

And Buck is too damn patient, too sympathetic, too good. He just smiles sadly, taking a step towards Eddie as if making to hug him. Just as Eddie is about to snap back again, reject the comfort of Buck, the alarm goes off again.

The call is a medical one, where usually Buck and Eddie are left to stand in if Chim or Hen need any help. But this scene is quite chaotic; a man is running around in his living room screaming nonsense, shaking and convulsing.

A woman meets them at the door. “How was I supposed to know he was allergic to flowers?” She cries, a panicked look on her face. “Look at him! He’s shaking all over, and I think he might be hallucinating.”

Buck and Eddie get him to lie down while Chim and Hen start looking him over. “You said flowers did this?” Asks Chim.

A beautiful, pink bouquet is standing in a vase at the table. Buck approaches it slowly and immediately sneezes upon butting his head into it. Eddie’s alarm bells start ringing for a second before Buck sniffles. “For a second I forgot I’m allergic to flowers. I’m not about to hallucinate too, am I?”

“Yeah, I don’t think this is an allergy. What exactly did you put in those flowers?” Hen asks.

“I don’t know! I got them from this alternative florist. She said they were romantic.”

Buck looks at the bouquet further. “Oh, I’ve read about this flower! It’s Belladonna, also called Deadly Nightshade!”

All heads turn around to look at Buck. He’s smiling excitedly, his eyes lighting up like they always do when he gets excited about remembering a fact. Eddie is always mesmerised by it, and by some weird force of nature, he cannot look away. Even when Hen starts asking Buck questions, Eddie cannot comprehend the well thought-out answer Buck has memorised about how you end up getting sick from toxic plants.

“You put a plant called Deadly Nightshade in a bouquet of flowers?” Chim asks.

“Someone got it into my head that men only get flowers at their funeral, and he’s been having a tough time lately. I just wanted to cheer him up! I swear!”

Buck catches his eye. His smile changes slightly, becomes less goofy and more like a slight smirk. He raises his eyebrows and Eddie is forced to look away.

“And it almost became his funeral,” says Chim.

Buck continues hovering over him all shift. When they’re on their way to a call, cramped into the back of the fire truck, Buck nudges his knee up against Eddie’s, as if saying I’m here. I’m always here. When Chim jokes around in the kitchen after dinner, Buck makes sure to include Eddie, always bringing him into the conversation, always making sure he laughs or smiles or gives any clue that he isn’t drowning in his own sorrow.

It would almost be endearing if it weren’t for the fact that it makes Eddie feel almost worse. Through the years he has acknowledged, and accepted, the fact that he tends to isolate himself in emotionally draining situations. And this time is no different. Buck’s insistence on being there for him, on cheering him up, holding his hand when he cries, is indescribable.

If only he could accept his help without feeling like he’s dragging everyone down with him, then-

“Your thinking is loud,” Hen says suddenly, bringing him out of his spiralling. He’s restocking the ambulance in what he thought was a solitary chore; voices are coming from the loft, where everyone is playing a new video game Chim has bought for the firehouse. He sneaked down here when he thought no one was looking, making sure Buck was deep in competition and wouldn’t come look for him. “I saw you coming down here. Thought you could use some help,” she says, seeing Eddie’s surprised look.

“I’m fine,” he says automatically. Words that have become his favourite these past few weeks.

“I didn’t ask,” Hen says. She looks at the list that sits loosely between his fingers and starts following the next steps. She’s quiet for a moment, effortlessly going through one of the medical cabinets. Eddie gets comfortable in the silence, ticking off some of the points on his list that he has already finished, when Hen breaks the silence.

“It’s hard getting you alone these days.”

He stops in his tracks and lets out a sigh. “He’s being very helpful.”

Hen looks up at him from where she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of the ambulance. Her smile is crooked when she asks, “and how do you feel about that?”

Eddie considers how honest he should be, before he realises that there is no point in lying to Hen. She always has that look in her eyes that tells him that she knows far too much for her own good.

“I mostly feel guilty. He’s doing all this for me, and I’m still just a miserable wreck.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise for a moment, almost like she had expected him to scoff at Buck’s care, but that’s quickly replaced by a sweet smile.

“And have you told him this?”

Eddie looks away. “No.”

“Well, maybe you should,” Hen says. She stops for a moment and turns her body around to look at him properly. “Buck might seem like this big-hearted protector type, but there’s something hiding behind it. I think he’s terrified of losing you, and that’s why he’s pushing so hard.”

Eddie lets a hand go through his hair. It’s not like Buck’s abandonment issues are news to him. It’s just easy to forget other people’s needs when you feel like your entire world has been crumbled up in tiny pieces and thrown away. So it’s easier to push away, keep it within yourself, and never let others get hurt because of you.

It dawns on him how incompatible they are as friends. Buck with his fear of people leaving, and Eddie with his tendency to leave or isolate the second things start to become real, or complicated, or too much. And yet. Yet. They are still compatible in every single other way, and this is just something they have to work on if they want to remain as they are. And they do, right?

“You’re right, I should probably talk to him.”

Hen smiles and continues working through the medical cabinet.

Eddie waits by his truck when their shift is over, waiting for Buck to inevitably leave the firehouse and notice him standing there alone. After a few minutes he’s proven right when Buck immediately catches his eye as he enters the car park, a freshly showered glow on his skin.

“Hey,” Buck says. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says distractedly. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

He opens the door to the passenger seat and gestures for Buck to get in, then walks around the truck and gets in the driver’s seat. Buck looks at him with interest, his body turned around slightly towards him. Eddie wanted to talk in private, where nobody from the firehouse would overhear them, but he almost regrets it now, as the confines of the car somehow feel more intimate than he thought it would. He takes a breath and dives in.

“Look, I’m sorry about yelling at you earlier,” he says, finding Buck’s eyes. “You just wanted to help, and I couldn’t take it.”

And Buck is there immediately to take his nerves off, always reassuring Eddie that they’re okay. Always so good.

“No, hey, Eds, it’s okay. You know I care about you, right?”

A silent beat. Buck’s eyes, bluer than any sky, softer than any cloud, are staring into his soul. He makes to look away, but is stopped immediately by Buck’s hand on his own, resting motionlessly on his thigh. He forgets to breathe for a second, but doesn’t tense up, doesn’t make it awkward.

“I care about you so much that I can’t stop. It consumes me. And- and I know it’s a lot, and I’m sorry if it’s too much,” Buck says.

“No, Buck. You’re not too much. Never,” Eddie says. He feels worse, somehow, like what he feared has come true. That Buck feels underappreciated and forgotten. Eddie turns his hand around and squeezes Buck’s.

Buck smiles sweetly. “It’s just, you know, the last time I wasn’t there for you, you joined a fight club and went to jail. I don’t want that to happen again.” He says it with a glint in his eye, takes the seriousness out of it, eases the tension.

But they aren’t done.

“You know that wasn’t your fault. Those were my own decisions. And I’m better at… dealing with my emotions now,” Eddie says. Buck intertwines their fingers. Eddie tries not to look down, tries to keep eye contact. “I’m sorry I’ve been so angry and miserable lately. I just miss him so damn much. All I want is for him to come back, and I don’t think it’s something you can fix this time.”

“But you need to take care of yourself too, Eddie.”

Why does he always have to be so soft and sincere? Honesty fills his throat like vomit. “I don’t know how.”

“Then let me,” he pleads.

He has to look away then, his eyes finding their intertwined fingers on his thigh. They fit together like glue. He wants to break the connection, get far away and never let anyone open him up again.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I don’t know if I can.”

He meets Buck’s eyes again, tries not to see the hurt colouring his face, shaping his lips. He looks away again.

Every day feels like it is the worst day of his life. But a few shifts after his conversation with Buck, he momentarily forgets about this fact, as one morning he comes into work as usual and is met with a large bouquet of flowers on the firehouse dinner table.

“Wow, what’s with the flowers?” He asks the room. Hen, smiling smugly, is the only one at the table.

“Well, they’re certainly not for me,” Hen says.

With tones of red, pink and purple, the flowers are bound airily with many different greens and a pretty pink bow around a temporary vase. It’s a beautiful bouquet; he recognises the pink lilies and the red roses, but the other flower names are lost on him. “No belladonna, I hope?”

“Don’t worry, I already checked for unnatural flower choices. It’s perfectly fine,” Hen says. She leans across the table to beckon him closer. “There’s a card, too. You should read it.”

Now suspicious, he inspects the flowers closer and gingerly takes the card, which reads:

For Eddie Diaz,

Thank you for being you.

He turns the card around. No signature. Sceptical, he looks up at Hen, who raises her eyebrows at him. It’s true that Buck has been very passionate in cheering Eddie up in the last few weeks, but sending him flowers with a romantic note surely crosses a line even he wouldn’t cross. Before he can voice his doubts to Hen, loud footsteps come up behind him.

“Ay! Who got flowers?” Chim says and pulls out the chair next to Hen to sit down. Buck sits down next to where Eddie is standing, slowly letting his hand caress Eddie’s shoulder and arm before peeking over at the bouquet.

“Me, apparently,” says Eddie. “They were here when I got in just now.”

He squints his eyes at Buck, who takes one sniff at the flowers and immediately crumbles away in a sneezing fit. “Sorry. Still allergic,” he says with a sheepish smile. “Beautiful though, who are they from?”

“There’s no sender,” Eddie says. Surely Buck wouldn’t send him flowers if he’s allergic?

“No sender?” Chim says, suddenly delighted. “Have you got a secret admirer, Diaz?”

“Could just be a thankful citizen, couldn’t it?” says Buck.

Then it hits him. Buck is not sending him flowers anonymously - why would he do that? He could just give them to him in person, as a nice gesture, face-to-face. Buck loves loudly and proudly. No, it isn’t Buck. It must be someone who is thinking of him. Someone who might be too far away to talk to him directly. Someone who wants to be in contact with him, but might be too embarrassed about it. Someone like…

“Maybe it’s Chris,” Eddie says.

“Chris?” Chim says. He takes the card again and reads it. “‘Thank you for being you?’ Doesn’t sound like something a thirteen year old would tell his dad.”

But Eddie doesn’t hear it. Could it be Chris? Would Chris know how to do that? Of course he would, he’s smart, and empathetic, and he probably knows how upset Eddie is, and wants to cheer him up. It has to be Chris.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Chim here,” Buck says, reading the note Chim has handed him. “It doesn’t sound like Chris.”

Eddie hasn’t seen Chris in weeks. Buck hasn’t seen Chris in weeks, either. Maybe being away from home has matured him. Maybe they don’t know him as well as they thought they did. Maybe he misses Eddie and wants to talk to him again, but is afraid of taking the first step, and this is his way. This is his way of coming back to him.

After the end of shift, he takes the flowers home and neatly places them in a vase on the table. They fit in just right with his interior. Chris would probably know that. Without thinking twice about it, he pulls out his text conversation with Chris, which, to be frank, is mostly one-sided.

Eddie

Good morning! How’s the weather in Texas? We just had the first rain in weeks.

Eddie

Hey Chris! How are you? We had a weekend off and went hiking. We actually saw a fox in the wild. Wish you had been there! Buck says hi.

Eddie

Did you go see the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie? Me and Buck thought it was great.

He starts typing a new message, pointedly ignoring the little ‘read’ sign on the unanswered ones.

Eddie

Hey. Did you send me flowers?

He puts the phone down and looks at the flowers again. They really are beautiful. He makes a mental note to look up the names of the flowers when his phone buzzes on the table. He almost drops it when he sees who it is.

Christopher

no?

Christopher

why would you think that?

Eddie

Someone sent me flowers to the firehouse with no signature. Thought it might’ve been you.

Christopher

that’s cool.

Christopher

it wasn’t me.

Eddie

Okay. How are you?

His heart is racing. Chris is talking to him . He lets his thumbs dance around the keyboard on his phone, eagerly wanting to double text, send an emoji, do anything to get the conversation going. But he waits. Knows it’s probably fruitless anyway. And Chris doesn’t respond. It’s fine. It’s actually fine that this is where the conversation ends, because at least there was one. It doesn’t matter, even, that it wasn’t Chris who sent him flowers, because at least they gave him an opening.

He puts his phone down and immediately takes it up again. His finger hovers over Buck’s name. He wants to call him, to scream and shout that his son has texted him, but something in him stops. He wants to savour it for just a moment. Wants it to be his and only his.

He goes to bed with a smile on his face that night.

“Well, someone looks happy today!” Hen says as Eddie waltzes happily into the firehouse the next morning. Hen, Chim and Buck are already there, sipping coffee and chatting with low interest. “Did you find your mystery flower person?”

“No!” Eddie says, trying to contain his smile. “But it wasn’t Chris!”

“And this makes you happy because?” Chim says, looking up from his phone, suddenly interested.

“Wait,” Buck’s head flies up. “You’ve talked to him!”

“I have.” Eddie says. He can’t help it now, he lets the smile take over and he feels his face light up.

“Eddie,” Buck almost whines, jumping up from his chair and throwing himself at Eddie in a bear hug so tight they almost fall over. “I’m so happy for you!”

Eddie leans into the hug. Buck is warm, he always is, and he finds that he doesn’t want to let go. He lets his own arms snake around him and rests his hands on Buck’s shoulders, giving him a slight squeeze.

“Now I really wish I knew who sent those flowers, so I can thank them,” he says into Buck’s neck.

Buck draws back slightly, like he doesn’t really want to let go, but still wants to see Eddie’s face. “Wait, the flowers did it?”

“The flowers did it,” Eddie says. He lets go of Buck, missing the warmth, but he wants to tell Hen and Chim, the whole station, the whole world, that Chris wants to talk to him again. “I asked him over text if he was the one who had sent them.”

“And?” Hen says, waiting excitedly for Eddie to continue.

“And he replied back telling me it wasn’t him,” Eddie smiles.

“Awh Eddie, that’s great,” Hen says, and Eddie is being tucked into Hen’s comforting embrace.

“Yeah man, I’m happy for you,” says Chim and pads him on his back. “I know it isn’t much, but it’s a start, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a start,” Eddie says.

“So, what are you gonna do now?” Chim asks.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, a little perplexed. “Should I do something?”

“You said you wanted to thank them. How?”

Eddie sits down at the table, takes the coffee Buck has already made for him, and attempts to clear his head. Because Chim has a point. Now what?

“Well,” he says after a moment. “There isn’t anything I can do, is there? Not unless they send another one. There was no address on the flowers.”

Chim and Hen look at each other and shrug.

“I guess it’ll stay a mystery, then.” Chim pads Eddie on the back as he leaves the group to find something in the kitchen.

“I’m sure this is just the beginning, Eddie. He’ll come to you again,” Hen smiles and follows Chimney.

Buck sits down next to him, but he doesn’t say anything. Eddie tries catching his eyes without luck. It’s like he’s in a completely different world, eyes a little sad and contemplative.

And Eddie gets it. For the rest of the shift, he can’t stop thinking about Christopher and the flowers. Can’t help but wonder if this opening - this massive win - was just a little fluke. What if news about the flowers is exactly what’s gonna get Chris to talk to him? That’s cool , he’d said. But now that Eddie has no clue to go on, there’s nothing to bring Christopher out of hiding.

The thought distracts him more than he’d like to admit, and during a slow period, when they’re all lounging on the couches, Eddie almost forgets his social skills.

Bobby is humming a song in the kitchen, restocking ingredients. Chim is texting Maddie with a secretive look on his face. Buck and Hen are talking about a new queer book Buck’s reading for what he has dubbed his ‘belated queer education’. Eddie starts phasing out somewhere around 19th century lesbian Boston marriages and Emily Dickinson’s poetry.

But Eddie is lost in his own thoughts.

Was it the mystery of the flowers that brought Chris to text him back? Maybe he’s bored and wants something low stakes to occupy his mind and speculate about. Or was it the shock that Eddie was given flowers? It’s not like his dating life has ever really been exciting, and Chris has never really been exposed to his dad being involved in romance. His relationships have all been very… family focused. PG. Devout of this kind of public passion that sending someone flowers at their work signals. Love for all the world to see, if, or course it even is–

“Eddie–”

“Hmm…?” Eddie is taken out of his head by Buck, looking at him with a big question mark on his face. Apparently, he missed Hen leaving them and he wonders how far away he really was.

“I was asking you if you wanted to go to the Urban Sports Festival happening downtown next month?” Buck says.

Eddie furrows his brows. “Since when are you into street sports?”

Buck sighs, looks away a little flushed. “I bought tickets when I was still with Tommy. I just realised now that I can’t return them.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. He can’t explain the feeling tucking in his stomach. Why does he feel offended? Usually being second choice is not an issue. He is not a jealous person, thank you very much. He decides to repress the thought and find a way to sit in silence for a while. “Yeah, sure, it sounds like fun. Text me the details? I think I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He gets up, ignores the worried look Buck is throwing him, and hurries off to the bunk room.

When Eddie arrives at work the next day, Buck is already pumping weights in the firehouse gym. He’s sitting at the bench, his legs spread out slightly and his arms stretching up and down as he lifts the weights, his movements in rhythm with short, deep grunts. His black tank top, which is already a little too tight on him, is plastered to his chest, dark patches of sweat all over his body. His deep red shorts are tight around his bulked up thighs. They’re riding up slightly and - Eddie has a weird, tingly feeling in the pores of his skin, almost like someone is tickling him from the inside. He shakes it off and approaches Buck anyway.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He flops his duffel down and sits on the bench opposite Buck. “You’re here early.”

Buck looks up at him, slowing down his lifting. “Oh hey,” he says, out of breath. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Eddie nods. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Buck shakes his head no, and Eddie makes to get up and get dressed when Buck stops him.

“Hey, umm, I think there’s another bouquet for you upstairs. Hen and Chim are already up there discussing it.”

His smile is a smile Eddie has seen a thousand times before. So sweet, so Buck, without a hint of knowing smirks or teasing that Eddie is sure to expect from Hen and Chim upstairs.

He heads upstairs and yes, Buck was right, there in the middle of the table is another bouquet of flowers. Although this time it’s a different one; it has blue and purple tones, and is about twice as big.

“Wow,” he says, speechless. “Again?”

“Yep,” Chim says, chewing an apple nonchalantly, as if Eddie getting flowers is just another Tuesday. “Looks like someone really likes you, Diaz.”

“Sure, Chim,” Eddie laughs. Violas and blue bells rise handsomely out of a fence of green grass, and held together with a tiny brown string, an envelope in blue peaks out of the crown. He tries to avoid Hen’s smug look and Chim’s secret smile as he approaches the bouquet. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be somewhere–?”

“Please read the note out loud, Eddie,” Chim almost begs, leaning his body over the table. Eddie pauses and raises his eyebrows at him. “We’ve been waiting all morning for you to get in. We wanna read the note, please.”

“What Chim is trying to say is that Maddie is picking up extra shifts and this is the only form of entertainment he’s had in days,” Hen supplies.

“Fine, Chim, I’ll read it out loud, just for you.”

He takes the note out and reads.

Though other friends are by your side,

Yet sometimes it must surely be

They wonder where your thoughts have gone –

Because I have you here with me

The room is quiet as they take the poem in. Chim and Hen are both looking at him in wonder, but Eddie’s too stuck on the words to pay attention to them.

Because I have you here with me … who has him and where?

Though other friends are by your side … so it’s a friend?

What?

Chim is the first to break the silence. “Wow, now it really looks like you’re being romanced, Diaz.”

Eddie finally takes a breath and looks up. Chim is grinning like Christmas came early, and Hen is trying to hide a smile behind her sleeves. Eddie feels his cheeks grow hot. He wants to hide.

“Poetry?” Buck comes up behind them, newly dressed in uniform and wearing a cocky smile. “You sure it isn’t just a note that came with the flowers?”

He gives the card to Buck for him to read.

“Well, that’s it, now you really have to find her,” Chim says. “For different reasons entirely.”

Now Eddie really wants to hide. Something about the idea of him hunting down a random woman who probably wants to date him gives him a cold rush all over his body. No, thank you!

“Her?” Hen says. “What makes you think it’s a her?”

Chim stops in his tracks. “Just an assumption. What, you think it’s a guy?”

Hen shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“But it’s so romantic. What man is into poetry?”

Hen smirks, giving Eddie a knowing look, which he promptly chooses to ignore.

“Come on, Chim,” Buck says. He hands the card back to Eddie as he slumps down in the chair next to him. “Don’t be so stereotypical, man. Men can be into poetry. I think it’s lovely, actually.” Buck looks away a little shy. Where is the best hiding place in this station?

“Okay,” Eddie says, with a big wish to discontinue this conversation. “I think we’re getting off track here. I don’t even know what the poem means…”

“Let me see it again,” Hen says and snatches it out of Eddie’s hands. She nudges her glasses down her nose like an old man reading the newspaper, and goes through the poem again. A smile tugs at her lips when she finally looks up at the three men looking at her like children waiting for the cookies to come out of the oven.

“Well?” Chim says.

“Well,” Hen begins. “It’s safe to say they’re a secret admirer who’s smart. They know you’ve been thinking about them, and honestly this feels a little bit like gloating to me.”

“Gloating?” Buck asks.

“They’re confident, and maybe a little bit possessive,” Hen says, eyeing him up suggestively. Buck crosses his arms and sinks back into his chair.

Eddie chooses to ignore that. “But what does that say about who this is?”

“How would I know? Unless they sign their name there’s no way of knowing. Surely you didn’t expect to find out just from analysing the poem?”

Eddie takes the poem out of her hand and looks away sulkingly. Well, maybe that was exactly what he thought. Who can blame him?

“But it must’ve been someone you just met,” Hen says now, getting Eddie’s attention again. “Or else, why now? It seems a bit random.”

“Or maybe it’s because you’ve changed recently,” says Chim. “You’re having a personal, emotional journey, and…” he pauses, “you’ve also changed physically.”

“What, you’re thinking of the moustache, Chim?” Buck smirks.

“Ha ha, very funny, Buck,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. Chim and Buck laugh loudly and give each other a high five. But Eddie suddenly realises that he hasn’t really heard Buck’s opinions yet. And weirdly, he finds himself being very interested. “Okay Buck, then what do you think?”

Buck, still laughter on his lips, dries his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform. “I think it’s… an old lady you helped cross the street.”

Eddie throws the poem at him and he just manages to catch it before it flutters to the floor. “You’re so full of jokes today.”

Buck looks at the poem briefly and hands it back to Chim.

“And I don’t think it’s an original. It looks familiar, don’t you think?”

“Do I look like I know poems?” Chim asks and gives it to Hen.

“It looks familiar… to you?” Eddie says with a tone of disbelief.

“Hey, it might’ve been in one of those books I read recently…”

But before Eddie can inquire further, Hen rises from her chair abruptly.

“Wait!” She says. “This card did come with the flowers - it has the name of the florist written on it.”

They all lean over the table as Hen shows them the backside of the card. In the middle of the paper is the name Rosie’s written in a light cursive font.

Unfortunately, that is the perfect time for the alarm to go off, and the four friends scurry off, leaving the mystery of the flowers for another time.

Eddie is distracted about the flowers all shift, and on their way out at the end of the day, Buck corners him about it.

“So…” he says, letting a hand rest on Eddie’s shoulder to stop him from leaving the locker room. “Do you wanna go?”

Eddie knows what he means, but still, “go where?”

“To Rosie’s, Eddie,” Buck sighs. “I’ve looked it up, it’s not that far from here.”

“I don’t know…” Eddie says. “You know how I feel about dating.”

“Nobody is saying you have to date them,” Buck says gently. He puts a little more pressure on the hand resting on his shoulder, moving his thumb soothingly. “Come on, you’ve been distracted all week. Let’s make it count for something. It’ll be fun.”

You’d think it was just another one of his distraction schemes, but somehow the tone feels different. Almost like a nervous itch.

He looks at his watch. “It’s too late now, they’ll be closed.”

“So I’ll come pick you up tomorrow. We’ll make a day out of it.”

“Let me think about it.”

Buck takes his hand back. Eddie feels its absence.

Then suddenly, Buck lights up. “How about you text Chris about it? Let’s say… if he answers, we do it?”

And how can Eddie say no to that?

Eddie

Hey. Look what I got again!

[Picture of flowers attached]

Christopher

again???

Christopher

did u find out who it was?

Eddie

No, but I might be able to ask the florist. Do you think I should go?

Christopher

duh

Christopher

tell me what u figure out

The florist is a quaint little shop on a corner block. The outside is littered with old wooden boxes with garden plants in every colour of the rainbow, wheelbarrows with overgrown ivy and a row of sunflowers that have seen better days. On the door is a little sign that says Rosie’s painted on in rose red.

Buck drove him there as promised and they’re now sitting in the jeep waiting for Eddie to get over his nerves.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Eddie asks.

“No, really, my allergies are just gonna be acting up,” Buck says, a little flushed, as if just the mere thought of being around the flowers is making his skin itch. “But I believe in you. You can do it!”

Eddie gives him a look. “I’m not even really sure what I’m doing.”

“You’re just going in and asking them if they know who sent the flowers,” Buck says, forever calm in the way he speaks. “You’re not committing to anything, okay?”

“No, right, of course,” he says and gets out of the car before he can change his mind.

The store looks, if possible, even smaller on the inside.

A labyrinth of overgrown house plants decorates the store from floor to ceiling, little tables and chairs standing in corners are stuffed with bowls of knick knacks, and rows upon rows of single flowers are lazily crammed into nooks and crooks. The smell is deeply overwhelming, and Eddie thinks to himself that Buck made a wise choice to stay outside.

Before he can look for the desk, he hears a sweet voice behind him.

“Can I help you?”

Eddie turns around and sees a short, stout lady wearing garden gloves and a very dirty looking apron.

“Well, I don’t know if you can,” Eddie starts nervously. “I’m here because I received an anonymous order from here, twice, actually, and I was hoping to find out who they were from.”

The lady, Rosie , Eddie assumes, walks past him and through a curtain of ivy that Eddie definitely did not think you could walk through. “That sort of foregoes the point of them being anonymous.”

“Yes, I know…” He follows her and finds her standing behind a receptionist desk which is covered in wet dirt and stumps of flower stills. “It’s just that the flowers kind of helped me reconnect with my son, and all I want to do is thank them for making that happen,” he vomits the words out like they’re food poisoning.

She gives him a look. “I’ll see if I can jiggle my memory,” she says. “What’s the order?”

Eddie gives her the card.

“Oh, I do remember this. Such a sweet note, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh yeah,” she seems to be deep in thought. “I do remember taking this order. It was a tall guy, muscular, very broad. He seemed awfully out of place in here.”

“Tall and muscular?”

He takes a quick glance outside, where Buck is waiting in the jeep, probably tapping his fingers on the wheel and quietly humming along to the radio.

“Did you notice if he had a mark on his face? Like a birthmark?”

“Uh, sorry. I think he was wearing a mask and a hat. I didn’t really see his face.”

The electricity that flashed through his skin at the mention of tall and muscular is gone now. Really, that’s it?

“Well, thank you for trying.”

Eddie gestured towards the card, wanting to take it back and leave the suffocation, but Rosie seems to read it through again with a bemused expression on her face.

“Sarah Orne Jewitt, I think this is.”

Eddie pauses. “What?”

“The poet,” Rosie says. She finally hands over the card to Eddie. “Her name was Sarah Orne Jewitt. I remember because I used to host a hobby class on Lesbian Poetry back in my day. The good ol’ days. Used to smell of a different kind of lavender in here, if you get my drift,” she winks. Eddie does not get her drift. “Anyway, you must be a lucky guy. This is quite romantic.”

Privately wondering what on earth he was thinking when he walked into this situation, he thanks Rosie for her time and leaves the flower shop. Outside, Buck is waiting patiently in the jeep, carelessly humming along to the radio, just like Eddie had imagined.

“So…?” Buck asks. “What did you figure out?”

Eddie hesitates. “Nothing. She didn’t remember the order.”

“Awh, bummer,” Buck says. Eddie thinks he means it, but he very quickly changes the topic. “Hey, there’s a new diner that’s opened down the street. Wanna go check it out? Maybe see if we can make Chris jealous?”

They do not end up making Chris jealous. The diner is Marvel themed, and apparently Buck and Chris had been wanting to go since they announced its opening this spring. But, due to obvious circumstances, they haven’t been able to go yet.

However, Chris is much more interested in Eddie’s endeavours at the florist’s, and thus promptly ignores Buck’s sweetly taken selfie of him next to the giant Spiderman figure on the wall.

Eddie considers whether or not to tell Chris that it is, in fact, a man who has been sending him flowers with romantic notes. He’s not sure he’s ready for his reaction, and he’s definitely not ready to uncover why that is.

But he decided at the start of the summer, when he was watching Chris’ back leave out of his front door and hearing his parents’ rental car drive away, that things would be different now. He would be transparent. Transparent in everything from his feelings to his dating life, and even if this definitely isn’t his dating life, he still thinks he should be honest.

So he tells Chris that the only thing he found out is that the secret admirer is a man. He decidedly doesn’t tell Chris how Rosie described the man.

Because the description of tall and muscular is not lost on Eddie. And it won’t be lost on Chris, either. Actually, it probably won’t be lost on anyone who knows Buck and Eddie that Buck is, indeed, a possessive, confident, tall and muscular man who likes poetry and has a reason to wear a mask into a flower shop.

The question is what would happen if Eddie mentioned it. And he doesn’t like the feeling creeping up his neck and into his fingers when he thinks about Buck romancing him.

If he’d known for sure the flowers were from Buck, then it probably would have been different. It would just be Buck. Buck giving him flowers, no big deal, right? A friendly gesture. He can definitely imagine Buck greeting him by the door, a big bouquet in his hands, with a glint in his eyes telling him that he’s thankful for Eddie being there. Platonically.

When it comes to their friendship, that really isn’t out of the line.

Now, the idea of Buck giving him flowers under the pretence of some romantic casanova who’s trying to score him. Well, that is a completely different game.

Because, essentially, a stranger is giving him flowers… a stranger is flirting with him. A stranger is flirting with him and it isn’t a woman. Eddie tries to examine the feeling, but is left with a rush of heat he cannot explain.

And if that stranger is Buck, the heat grows a little stronger.

In the end, Chris ends up replying to his text with the shifting eyes emoji, and Eddie doesn’t know what to feel, so he settles back into Buck’s company at the diner that he will definitely need to take Chris to later, and decides that the sexuality crisis can wait.

After a few weeks, Eddie’s secret admirer has given him so many bouquets of flowers, small trinkets and romantic foodie gifts that each person in the 118 has called a favourite.

Chim, like the corny ass he is, has called dibs on a bouquet consisting of just red roses and blue violets, accompanied by a little note with the poem:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

My heart burns like fire

When I look at you.

“Come on guys, that’s a classic construction! And it’s fitting for Eddie, you know, a firefighter. What’s not to like?” He’d said when the others had just laughed at the cheesy, yet admittingly sweet and romantic poem. At least it was obvious that this one had been created from the heart, and Eddie secretly agrees with Chim.

Chim gets his revenge when Hen picks an even more cheesy favourite: a box of heart shaped chocolates with the line, are you a paramedic? Because I think my heart has stopped for you . Eddie gets a bit of a grin out of that, and shares the chocolates with Buck while watching a movie that night.

Buck’s favourite isn’t a poem, which honestly surprised Eddie at the time, since apparently he finds poems familiar now, or whatever. But one day a tiny bouquet of just one type of flower was delivered to him. It had a little booklet with its name and a few fun facts: Fire lily, [Cyrtanthus ventricosus], flowers after wildfires and only for two weeks before the flowers are replaced by black seeds. “It’s like beauty always persists!” Buck had said at the time, and Eddie had saved his gigantic smile in a box somewhere safe.

Through it all Eddie experiences so many emotions that he’s never felt before that he sometimes finds it really hard to cope.

He feels taken care of. As if someone actually wants him, and maybe he wants them to want him?

He feels confused. He has never been into men, should he not be repulsed? Why is he not repulsed? Why isn’t he at least indifferent?

He feels lightheaded, but he also feels like there is a tightness in him wanting to be unruled.

He also feels empty – the secrecy makes him feel empty. He finds himself wondering what it would be like if someone was openly flirting with him, and not hidden by a wall of flowery poetry. If someone, who was a man, and maybe even a specific man, was giving him flowers and telling him he loved him.

He mentions some of this to Hen one evening when they’re the only ones still up, and she gives him a complicated look that pokes at the tightness in his chest.

“Eddie, it’s okay to want things,” she says. “Even if it’s things you didn’t expect to want.”

He thinks about wanting and how that has manifested in his relationships over the years. Had he ever truly wanted Ana? No , he was pretty clear about that, actually. But Marisol? When the whole thing with Kim happened earlier this summer, Eddie very quickly pushed Marisol out of his mind, and when he thinks about it now, maybe that felt a little bit too easy. Almost like he’d wanted to do it from the beginning. But then, that was because of Shannon, right? He’d definitely wanted Shannon at some point. Maybe not in the moments he was running away from her, but…

He shakes the thought away.

He tells himself, and the others, that he wants to find out who is behind the mystery to get cool-points from Chris. In truth, he wants to find out for himself, too. To feel the romance fully. To feel the want.

Over the next few weeks, speculation on Eddie’s secret admirer runs rampant. Chim is the main instigator, always there first when Eddie gets a new gift, and always the first to suggest a new suspect.

At one point it becomes so bad that Chim starts writing all the suspects down in a little book, crossing them out or adding notes as they get more information. Of course, Eddie pretends this is no big deal to him, and he lets Chimney have all the fun that he wants to. But when Eddie comes home, he gathers up all the information he has gotten and relays it over text to Chris.

And every time, Chris responds right back. It strengthens the obsession in him, and sometimes the mystery flower man is all he can think about.

The theories in question, though, are mostly fruitless. Chim has basically mentioned everyone in Eddie’s life, from his elderly neighbour to his sisters to the barista at his favourite coffee shop to Christopher’s old teachers. Nothing really feels right.

There is still the possibility that it is someone they’ve helped on a call. But Eddie has gone through an obscene number of memorable cases, and nobody seems to really stand out.

At one point Ravi considers Tommy, which makes Buck completely freeze him out for the rest of the shift.

Eddie’s favourite guess so far, also supplied by Chim, but this time at 3 am after 12 hours of exhaustion, is that it is the ghost of Shannon. Though of course that one is a little bit too close to reality, and Eddie spends a few days wondering whether or not Kim would be crazy enough to pull off something like that.

There is a point where he even thinks it’s the entire team playing a very lovely prank on him, but the messages seem too sincere, too honest. And Chim would never be able to hold that piece of information in.

Now of course, Eddie isn’t stupid. At this point he is well aware that there is only one realistic suspect. Only one person would go to such lengths to try to give him a confidence boost that almost crosses into old-fashioned wooing. Only one person who would be so dedicated to him for so long and wouldn’t be perailed to give himself away.

The problem is that it’s just a hunch. He doesn’t actually have any proof that it’s Buck, and he also hasn’t dared bring it up to Chim, in case he takes it too seriously and does something insane, like ask him directly.

Because of course Eddie would never do that. That would be crazy.

That would be way too real. No, no, no. He could never ask him directly. What if he says yes?

So he decides to just observe Buck.

After Buck and Tommy broke up, Buck definitely looked a little bit more down than usual. He didn’t smile as much, and sometimes he tensed up when Eddie spoke with him.

And admittingly, it was hard for Eddie to grasp at the time. It was the height of his own misery, of feeling like a sad, lonely failure. So maybe he didn’t support Buck the way he should have.

But now… now Buck is completely different. Every morning he walks into the firehouse humming or whistling. Like always, he brings Eddie coffee, but now it feels like there’s something different about it. Like the coffee is sweeter.

“Did you change the way you make this?” Eddie had asked one morning, after he’d been noticing it for a few days.

“Nope,” Buck had said, happily. “Just coffee beans, oat milk and a dash of sugar… oh, and of course, my secret ingredient.”

Buck had smirked, waiting for Eddie to humour him. “Yes?”

“My love, obviously,” he’d winked and left Eddie to almost choke on this coffee full of love.

And now, it’s like there’s always a smile on his face, like–

“What are you looking at?”

Eddie is taken out of his daydream by Buck. They’re lounging on the firehouse couches one shift during a quiet hour, and Eddie is probably staring a little bit too much at Buck.

“Just thinking about the mystery flowers,” he says, taking a sip of his water, trying to save face.

Buck smiles brightly.

Eddie shakes his head. “You think I’m ridiculous for getting so riled up about this?”

“Noo.”

“Yes you do, you’re laughing at me,” Eddie grins and lightly slaps Buck on his arm.

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m smiling at you. There’s a difference.”

And there’s a crinkle in his eye that Eddie would very much like to touch.

“Okay, what’s the difference?”

Buck sighs. “I think it’s a little endearing. And I’m glad you have a distraction.”

“I see.” It’s just about Chris, then.

“And you’ve been different lately. Almost happier.”

That definitely isn’t about Chris. The texts have been nice but there’s still a piece of his heart missing, so that’s definitely not it.

Is Buck flirting with him? Is that what this is?

He takes Buck in. He’s sitting underneath a blanket hugging his knees, a cup of coffee warming his hands. His curls are unruly; he must have slept earlier, and they’re in the perfect set-up for Eddie to let his hands go through them…

“You look happier too, you know,” Eddie says. Is it getting warm in here? “What’s that about?”

Is Eddie flirting back? Is this what he wants? Buck flirting with him softly, just the two of them, talking about happiness and life and maybe love.

“Do I?” Buck asks. Suddenly though, there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes. And Eddie notices it because he notices everything about Buck, and it definitely wasn’t there before. It’s brief, like a negative thought went through his head and he decided to push it down and hide it.

Eddie hums in reply, but they don’t say anything else. All the confidence he got from before has slipped away. What is Buck thinking about? What is making him sad?

For a moment, clarity leaves him, and he’s confused once more. Maybe it’s not Buck, after all, who has been giving him flowers. Maybe it’s all just wishful thinking.

But one day a gift takes an interesting turn, and Eddie becomes a little bit more sure.

It’s one of those shifts that are as if sent from hell. They lose two people in a row. The first one in a car accident, an older lady who had a stroke while driving and ran into a tree. Then an hour later they were called out to an apartment fire which unfortunately ended badly.

At least it’s one of those shifts where they get off at 8pm, and everyone is happy to go home to their families. Except, of course, for Eddie. Buck offers to come home with him in an instant, but Eddie finds himself declining. He just wants to sleep it off and think about the next day. So that’s what he does.

He’s woken up the next morning by an aggressive knocking on his door.

“I’m on my way!” He yells frantically, rushing through the house, not even wondering who could be at his door at this hour.

He opens up to a young man standing on his doorstep with a big brown paper bag in his arms.

“Delivery for Eddie Diaz?”

“That’s me,” Eddie says automatically.

The man hands over the bag and before he can politely tell him that he hasn’t ordered anything, he is half way down his driveway. “Have a good one!”

Confused, Eddie closes his door and heads for the kitchen. The paper bag is warm and he peaks inside, immensely curious. The bag is full of smaller food boxes, and he carefully takes out each one to assess.

He gapes at the items in front of him.

A breakfast burger with eggs and bacon. A hashbrown. Two pieces of French toast. A plate of pancakes with syrup. A cookie dough milkshake.

There’s no note.

But the thing is that this has been sent to his house. The flowers have never been sent anywhere but the firehouse. Does the secret admirer know his address?

That would very quickly turn this romantic adventure into a very creepy one, so maybe this isn’t meant to be from the same source. Would most people assume it is? No, he thinks.

This is probably from someone else, and Eddie is probably meant to know from who, this time.

He takes out his phone to text Buck… but what would he even say? Thank you for breakfast ? Maybe that would be enough.

He starts typing, but immediately regrets it and gets a better idea.

Eddie

Just got sent breakfast by an anonymous… not sure if it’s flower guy or Buck this time.

Christopher

probably Buck

Eddie starts typing out a reply. He still hasn’t quite figured out if there’s a higher likelihood of getting a reply back if he types fast, but it is his current, and only, working theory. Before he has a chance to click ‘send’, however, the screen turns black as a Facetime call pops up.

A Facetime call.

A Facetime call from Chris.

He just manages to breathe before he clicks on the little green icon and the screen turns from the black nothingness to a live picture of Chris, with his toothy grin and curls falling into his eyes.

“Hi Dad,” he says. He looks the same, except his hair has grown longer, and it looks like he’s gotten a bit of a tan. Eddie’s heart aches for all the changes he has missed in the few weeks they’ve been apart. How much do teen boys grow in six weeks?

“Hey Chris,” Eddie says, hardly able to speak with the smile on his lips. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Chris says, ever the talker. However, the call doesn’t last many seconds before Christopher’s happy smile is replaced by a confused frown. “What’s that on your face?”

“What?” Eddie says. He looks away from Chris to the little screen in the corner with his own face. He hasn’t eaten anything yet. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No,” Chris rolls his eyes. “Under your nose. What have you done?”

“Oh,” Eddie gets it now. “My moustache. I was just trying out something different.”

“It looks ridiculous,” Chris says, but he’s smiling again

“You don’t like it?”

And it’s like his heart doubles in size. Talking to Chris is so easy, even if he hates his personal grooming choices, even if he hates him, it’s like they could talk forever.

“You look like an old man.”

“What? I was thinking more like Freddie Mercury…” Eddie strokes his ‘stache to really make the point come across, and Christopher visibly winces.

“Who’s Freddie Mercury?”

Eddie gasps. “Okay that’s enough, I think you’ve been away for far too long. You know Freddie Mercury, I know you do!”

“Whatever,” Chris rolls his eyes. A slow silence comes over them then, and Eddie breathes out. Chris looks apprehensive when he says, “is this because you’ve got a boyfriend now?”

“What?” Eddie says mutely. Cold sweat rushes over him, and there’s suddenly a ringing in his ears. What?

“Your secret boyfriend.” And he doesn’t say it like Chim, who’d be teasing. Or Hen, who’d be suggestive.

(Or Buck, who wouldn’t say it at all).

He says it like he’s nervous, like he doesn’t actually really want to know, like he’s worked up his nerves to ask. Like he’s scared.

“How would you… how would you feel about that, if I did?” Eddie says tentatively. The air is standing still around him. Chris is looking down, avoiding eye contact, and Eddie desperately, so desperately wants him to look up, to see that Eddie is just as nervous, just as terrified.

“I don’t care,” he finally says. “I just want to know. I don’t want to be kept in the dark anymore.”

And Eddie’s heart breaks. All the happiness from the moustache banter, all the confidence of the weeks of texting, all is gone because of just one ounce of truth. That Eddie fucked up, broke something within his son, within himself. But he will be better at this, this time. He must.

“Chris, from now on, I’m an open book, I promise. I will never keep a secret from you again.”

“Okay,” Chris says, voice small. “So you aren’t dating the flower man?”

Eddie has to smile at how good and kind his son is, how open and forgiving. He really doesn’t deserve him.

“I still don’t know who it is,” Eddie says. “I have no way of finding out, anyway, unless he tells me.”

Chris perks up a little bit at this, like there’s a challenge now that he can take up. “Why don’t you just write him a letter?”

“I can’t do that, bud, I don’t have his address.”

Chris scrunches his nose like he’s thinking deeply. “But he buys the flowers at the same place every time. You can just give the letter to the shop.”

And yeah, he could just do that… that sounds easy enough, right?

“You think I should do it?”

“Yeah!” Chris nods enthusiastically. “And while you’re there, you should tell the shop to keep an eye out to get a better description. So you know what he looks like!”

And Chris looks so happy, a giant smile filling up his cheeks and reaching all the way to the small of his eyes. And Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him that the idea of him writing a letter to a secret admirer, who’s a man, by the way, is the most terrifying thing he’s ever had to do. But Chris looks so happy…

“I think that’s a great idea, Chris.”

That evening Eddie finds himself standing in the bathroom with a bottle of shaving foam in his hand when a pair of keys jiggles in the quiet of the living room.

“In the bathroom!” He yells to the room.

A few moments later Buck gingerly opens the door.

“Woah, shaving it off?”

“Chris doesn’t like it,” Eddie says. “And neither does anyone else, if I remember correctly.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t like it, I said I couldn’t stop staring at it. There’s a difference.” Buck smiles. “Wait, you talked to him?”

Eddie nods. Buck slips into the room, leaning himself up against the wall next to him.

“He called me on FaceTime,” he smiles goofily.

“I’m so happy for you, Eddie,” Buck returns the smile, his stupid dimple showing and his stupid eyes watering. “Man, I miss that guy so much, I can’t wait till he gets home.”

Eddie agrees. He feels lightheaded and dumb, fuelled by love and happiness, and when he starts getting ready to shave he suddenly gets a mad idea.

“So, wanna say your last goodbyes?” He holds up the shaving foam.

“To your moustache?” Buck smirks, but he comes closer anyway, enters Eddie’s space. Gently, he raises his hand to Eddie’s face, slowly dragging his finger from his nose down to the side of his mouth, caressing the hair. Then the other side, just as carefully and focused.

“So did you just call me over here to say goodbye to your facial hair?” Buck asks, his voice low. He removes his hand again, but it stays close, hovering dangerously in the air.

Eddie realises he should probably breathe, and lets out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, no,” he says. “I actually wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” He asks like it’s a challenge. Like he wants Eddie to call him out for a lot more than he’s about to. But he can’t do that, not yet. He wouldn’t know how to react to the truth, to Buck’s potential secret. He’s not ready, so he takes the easy route.

“For breakfast,” Eddie says. They lock eyes and stay there. Take each other in. And Eddie thinks Buck’s eyes have become harder, not as gentle and soft and happy as they were just a mere week ago. Eddie doesn’t understand. Why has he become so hard to read?

“How did you know it’s from me?” Buck asks then.

“You just told me,” he says. Another challenge.

Buck smiles, and the eye contact is broken. Buck looks at his feet and Eddie looks at Buck. “I thought you might’ve assumed it was from your…,” he pauses, looks up to gesture at the room, “...secret admirer.”

Eddie chuckles, trying to ignore the tension looming over them like a fog. He looks away from Buck and catches himself in the mirror, realising that he’s actually in here for a reason. He takes the shaving foam to his face and starts spraying it on the space between his lips and his nose.

“Well, this time it was sent directly to my home address, and there was no cheesy poem, so I just figured it was from my not-so-secret admirer instead,” Eddie says, smirking at his own remark.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Buck says, smiling now, “then you’re welcome.”

Eddie takes a blade and shaves down on one side of his lip. Buck looks on in wonder, and Eddie turns around to wiggle his eyebrows at him, one side of his face shaved, the other white with foam. The tension that had filled the room before slowly slips out as Buck laughs at Eddie’s ridiculous look. And Eddie thinks he should probably get to the real reason he asked Buck to come.

“Actually, there’s one more thing.” Buck raises his eyebrow in a question. “I want to write a letter.”

“Yes?” Buck asks, confusion written all over his face.

“To the flower person. To say thank you.”

Buck looks at him expectantly, urging him to continue.

“But I’m not very good with words.”

“You think I am?”

“Buck, you spend like half the day talking. It would be some crazy miracle if you weren’t.”

Buck sighs. There’s something tired on his face. “Okay,” he says finally. “How about you finish shaving, so you look at least a little bit decent,” he smiles, “and then you can show me what you’ve got.”

Eddie lets out a sigh of relief.

It’s not that Eddie hasn’t thought about what to write in the letter, it’s just that he had assumed Buck would do most of the work.

“How about this… Thank you for the flowers. You have no idea how much I appreciate them … and then I want to say something that they can respond to.”

They’re sitting at his kitchen table, two cold beers opened next to them and a piece of paper spread out on the table.

“What, you’re not even gonna address them?”

“What am I gonna say… Hi mystery flower person ?”

Buck smirks. “Depends. Do you want to flirt back?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. The answer to that should be simple. I just want them to know how much they’ve changed my life. I don’t need to get anything else out of it . And yet. And yet…

“Okay, then show me how you would flirt back, potentially.”

“Alright..” Buck thinks. “How about, Hi stranger …”

“Ugh, Buck, this isn’t a romcom.”

Buck laughs, a tiny blush creepy up his neck. “Or how about we just go with Dear friend ?”

Eddie feels himself calm down. Much better.

During the next few minutes it’s been made clear to Eddie – by Buck – that he apparently has no sense of being vulnerable. Eddie argues that it’s because he’s trying to write a heartfelt letter to a stranger, but Buck…

“Just pretend it’s someone you know,” he says. “Pretend it’s me, even.”

Eddie examines Buck then – The kitchen light is a little orange and under it, Buck glows. He’s got that excited puppy smile on his face, the one he showcases when he’s telling a story or sharing a cool fact. He looks like he’s at home, here, with Eddie. He’s so beautiful.

“Okay, so how about something like… You’ve made me feel like a whole new person. Like I’m allowed to look at myself in a different, more positive way.”

Buck’s smile freezes, like he’s taken aback. But he hides it quickly and says, a little mellow, “that’s great, Eddie!”

He starts writing something down and Eddie feels like he’s crumbling a little.

“Okay and now… What is it you really want to know?” Buck asks. “What is the one thing that mystifies you about this person?”

He thinks about the mysterious stranger in his mind, giving him flowers. Then his image turns to a tall, muscular man, with blond hair and a pink birthmark. He decides to test the waters a little bit.

“I want to know why they’re so anonymous… The first time it was very sweet, but since I don’t know who they are, I feel as if I’m getting led on a little bit. Maybe I want to give the favour back.”

Buck pauses. He doesn’t answer for a while and Eddie’s almost nervous he said something wrong.

Then he looks up. “I guess they don’t know that you’d want to do that.”

“Which is why we’re writing a letter right now, telling them,” Eddie argues.

“But once you find out, maybe everything is different.”

“Well if we never find out, we’ll never know,” Eddie says determinedly. He doesn’t want to argue with Buck about this, but he’s getting ridiculous.

Buck nods solemnly, and so together, they finish writing what Eddie thinks is a way too personal letter and which Buck thinks isn’t at all.

Dear friend,

Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.

There’s a lot of things to be said about gifts. They’re nice to get. Always makes you feel appreciated, and especially if it’s something you’re not expecting. Your gifts might seem like no big deal to you, but to me, they’ve opened a whole new world. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m trying to mend my relationship with my son. It’s been tough for a few weeks, until I received your first bouquet of flowers. We’ve bonded over your cheesy poems, your romantic gestures, the mystery of you. And I can never thank you enough for that.

But that’s not all. You’ve helped me in more ways than you can imagine. You’ve made me go through a lot of different emotions over these past few weeks. I’ve been feeling more positive, like a whole new person. And like I’ve been taken care of.

I want to thank you for that.

And then I’d like to ask you… why?

Why do you hide your feelings like that?

Would you ever put this love out in the open?

I’d love to hear from you,

Eddie.

He goes to the flower shop one morning before work and hands Rosie the letter, along with a stern message that next time the man comes in, she needs to get a better look at him.

And now, all Eddie has to do is wait.

Eddie hates waiting.

Every day he arrives early at the firehouse and waits anxiously for any sign of a delivery. He lifts some weights to have something to do, thinks about the finality of what he has done, and is disappointed when nothing comes.

The gifts have been coming steadily, maybe once or twice a week, so Eddie hadn’t expected to wait for more than maybe a week. Of course, a little grace period is fair. The man has to think about what to do next, and giving him a little time for that is the least Eddie can do.

But suddenly three weeks have gone by, and still no sign from the flower man. It’s almost like the second the letter is out, the flowers stop coming. And Eddie doesn’t panic, but he does start to get a little fidgety.

The only thing that puts him in a little bit of a better mood is going to the Urban Sports Festival with Buck. It feels like years ago that Buck asked him if he wanted to go, but now they’re walking into an asphalt park on a sunny Saturday in September.

And at once, all his anticipation about his secret admirer is gone as he’s walking shoulder to shoulder with Buck, looking at all the athletics showing off their niche sports. There are BMX riders looping through the air, a giant, complicated skateboard park, an arm wrestling competition, tryouts for Beach Volley and children getting courses in Parkour.

For a while, Eddie feels happy and carefree. Buck is talking animatedly about the history of Breakdancing, and which sports he’d love to see in LA when the Olympics are held there. It almost feels like they’re back to normal, and Eddie doesn’t even really think about how Christopher would’ve loved this, not when Buck is so smiley and adorable. It’s like nothing could ruin his mood.

That is until they’re standing by the callisthenics area watching a very toned man show off his strength on two bars high in the air, and Buck turns to him and says, out of thin air, “I was thinking, Eddie, maybe it’s time to let the flowers go.”

“What! Why?”

“Well, it’s just, you haven’t heard anything since you asked for their identity. Maybe it was the kiss of death.”

“You think I scared them away?”

“Maybe,” Buck says. And when Eddie looks at him with confusion laced in his eyes, he goes on. “Maybe they don’t want to show you who they are. Maybe part of the fun for them was the secrecy. Maybe knowing who they are makes it too real.”

Eddie frowns. “That’s stupid.”

“Is it really? You don’t know what they have to lose.”

“They also don’t know how much they could win,” Eddie says. “I’m not giving up, Buck. I’ll ask Athena for help if it comes to that.”

“Wow, wow, maybe that’s a little far, don’t you think?” Eddie crosses his arms. “Okay, fine, don’t give up. Just… don’t get your hopes up.”

It’s a little awkward between them after that, and Eddie tries not to let it get to him, with little to no luck. All of a sudden it feels like Buck is walking further away from him, avoiding his eyes at every chance he can get.

Eddie realises then that the chance of him getting any more gifts is probably really slim. If his secret admirer is Buck, he basically just got rejected to his face.

As his sour mood worsens, it dawns on him that he hadn’t really thought this through. What could have possibly happened anyway if he had gotten the confirmation he so desperately wanted?

Would Buck have thrown himself into Eddie’s arms and confessed his secret love for him? It seems as unlikely as any fantasy. He feels something heavy fall to the pit of his stomach, and as they’re walking through the festivities almost hand in hand, he realises that the feeling is disappointment.

Does he want the fantasy of dating Buck to be real? Yes , he finds himself thinking. Yes . And that’s… that’s a problem. Because now, after that revelation, it feels like Eddie has ruined it with his stupid pushing and actually scared Buck off.

They’re cheering on the underdog of a boxing match when it gets even worse, as Eddie suddenly remembers that Buck was supposed to go to this event with Tommy. He looks over at Buck, completely at ease in a crowd of sweaty Angelenos, all huddled together to get the best look at the ring in front of them. They’re standing close; Eddie can feel Buck’s shoulder and upper arm bump against his own, his arm swinging by his side loosely. It would be so easy to grab his hand.

Would it have been like this if Buck had gone with Tommy? Would they have stood even closer, Buck’s arm hanging loosely around Tommy’s waist? Or would they have forgotten about the match, busy instead with their own company? He imagines Buck letting his hand escape underneath Tommy’s shirt, exploring his bare skin, Tommy leaning into his touch… and suddenly the image of Tommy is switched with a shadow, and Buck’s hand has moved onto Eddie’s skin, and it’s going south, south…

He jumps back to consciousness when the crowd erupts into applause. The underdog has won. Eddie feels his own hands rise to clap, but his mind is still on Buck, who’s standing so close to him that his elbow is now bumping into his side as he claps and cheers for the winner. Was his shirt always that tight?

A suffocating hotness suddenly comes over him. It must be the sun, Eddie decides - it’s midday. He lets himself take hold of Buck’s arm, failing to ignore the feeling of his muscles on his fingertips, and drags him out of the crowd.

“Food?” He says. He’s very nonchalant. Still holding onto Buck’s arm.

“Sure - hey, can we go to that place with the protein shakes? They have one I haven’t tried.”

“Of course,” he says. Buck smiles excitedly and an ease settles over him. It’s fine. Being with Buck is fine and easy as it always has been. So why is it suddenly not fine at all?

They settle at a table, protein shakes and chicken wraps in hand, and to avoid looking at Buck, Eddie takes in his surroundings. Right by their table is an enclosed court where a team is currently playing 3x3 Basketball. Eddie groans silently as Tommy comes to mind again.

Buck and Tommy weren’t together for that long. They hardly transitioned out of the honeymoon phase and into the kind of steady that would warrant you to go to a public event without the promise of something else. But surely he shouldn’t ask Buck about this…

The curiosity gets the better of him. “So, this is your idea of a hot date?”

Buck, in the middle of drinking, almost chokes. “Huh? Date?”

“Yes, wasn't this supposed to be a date?”

Buck, visibly confused, shakes his head slowly.

“With Tommy?”

Understanding flashes on his face, and then a sadder smile that Eddie can’t quite read. “Oh. Yes, I guess it was.”

Buck looks over at the basketball game too, sighing deeply like he’s reminiscing about something. By the look on his face, distant and thoughtful, it feels like he is gathering up the nerves for a much harder conversation.

“Do you remember the basketball game?” He says, not looking at Eddie.

“The one where you almost broke my ankle?” Eddie bites back, but there’s no real heat in it. Buck’s tone makes him nervous, and he’s trying to ease the tension.

“Okay, I think you’re being a little bit dramatic there,” Buck looks at him now, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hmm,” he winks.

“But yeah,” Buck says, looking away again. “I still don’t really know why I did that. And I’ve spent so long being confused over it, asking myself why I had such a big reaction to you guys hanging out. Even as I was dating Tommy I still had a weird feeling about it.”

For a moment Eddie feels like there is a confession coming, but then Buck puts his elbow on the table and leans his head into his hand, looking defeated. His other hand lies motionless on the table, his fingers curled into his palm. Eddie fights back the desire to take it and hold it.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says. Buck looks at him confused. “For bringing him up now, I mean.”

“Oh no, don’t worry–” Buck starts.

“And I’m sorry for not being a very good friend back then,” Eddie interrupts and Buck’s lips close with a pop. “When everything happened with Chris, it was hard to think about anyone but myself. But that was shitty of me… I didn’t support you when you went through a breakup, didn’t even ask why.”

“Oh, Eddie, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have told you anyway,” Buck says hurriedly.

“Oh?” Eddie says, taken aback. “Why not?”

“Well… it isn’t something I feel the need to talk about,” Buck says with finality, until Eddie looks at him a little harder and Buck folds, like Eddie knew he would. “Fine. The short story is that we just didn’t really click in the end. And not because he was a guy! Everything there was, umm, fine, you know,” a blush creeps onto his cheeks. “We just wanted different things.”

Eddie decidedly does not want to think about what Buck meant with everything there was fine , so he decides to not dwell on it. “But why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?”

“I guess I just think it’s a little embarrassing, with you guys being friends and all. Didn’t he tell you anything?”

“No. I haven’t talked to him since you got together, not really. Not unless you were there too.”

“Oh. I thought he might have hit you up after, or something…” Buck trails off, looking small and embarrassed.

“Hit me up?” Eddie asks, even more confused now.

A pause comes over them as someone on the basketball court scores a crucial point and the crowd erupts into cheers.

After a little bit, Buck fights his nerves and says, “umm okay, I sort of had the impression he kind of had a thing for you.”

“For me?” Eddie blanks.

“Is it that surprising? I mean, he flew you to Vegas in a helicopter to see a fight between two half-naked men. He never did anything like that for me,” Buck says, a little subdued.

“Oh.”

And really, maybe Eddie should have realised it. All those times they hung out, working on cars, flying to Vegas, sparring. Tommy was always so nice and eager to hang out and do what Eddie wanted… and yeah, okay, maybe he’s more oblivious than he initially thought.

“Sorry if that’s weird to you,” Buck laughs awkwardly, looking down and smiling adorably.

“No, not at all. I just didn’t realise it,” Eddie says, still feeling a little lost. He notices Buck making himself smaller, folding his body in and keeping his hands in front of his face, and he realises there that maybe he, Eddie, could be the braver one. He says then, “well, I wouldn’t have dated him, anyway. He’s not exactly my type.”

“Obviously–”

“I prefer blonds.” He looks Buck directly in his eyes, silently begging with all he’s got that the meaning behind his words isn’t lost. That Buck understands.

The air around them is quiet. The basketball players have stopped mid-air, the ball frozen motionlessly in the air, the crowd so quiet you’d think they aren’t there. The eyes blue like piercing ice, yet soft, so, so soft, staring at him, unwavering, intense. It’s been five seconds or five hours when a small snicker breaks the silence. Buck’s entire face is a smile, and it lights up the entire world.

“Eddie, you have literally never dated a blond in your life,” Buck says, a laugh on the tip of his tongue. “And I’m not counting Kim.”

And the glint in his eyes is so pure, so unabashedly sweet, that Eddie can’t help but let out a chuckle. Which makes Buck smile even brighter. Which makes Eddie’s chest tighten, and soon they’re both laughing.

“Well, I’ve never dated anyone I truly wanted to date. So maybe that’s been my problem all along. I need to date blonds,” he shrugs, hoping Buck will match his challenge.

And Eddie thinks – hopes – that Buck will say it then, come clean, do something, anything. But a crowd suddenly comes crashing by them; a man is being carried above their heads in a parade of victory. They cheer loudly, and soon the moment is lost.

“Should we check out what that’s about?” Buck says and gets up from the table. Eddie follows, a feeling of disappointment and frustration in the pit of his stomach.

After the Sports Festival, Eddie finds that his situation has drastically changed. Now he isn’t just not receiving gifts from his secret admirer, he’s also not getting texts back from Chris because of it, and to make matters worse, Buck seems to be avoiding him too.

It started out small. Like Buck would be too busy to hang out after a shift, or he’d be working extra shifts on days Eddie was off.

But then it started happening on shifts too. If Eddie sat down next to Buck, he’d move a little so they weren’t touching. If Eddie joined in on a conversation, Buck would get quiet and make himself small. If Eddie used the gym, Buck would be too tired that day and avoid it.

The more Buck avoids him, the more he thinks about how close he’d been to changing everything completely. Because he’d been about five more seconds of intense eye contact away from asking Buck straight up if the secret admirer was him. And looking back on that moment the regret of not doing it settles in him like a bad round of the flu. If he’d just said that… if he’d just done this … and the issue is that the more he thinks about it, the more he realises that the nature of that moment is probably why Buck is avoiding him in the first place.

Because Buck probably doesn’t want to date him. He just wanted to distract him from Chris, and started flirting because he’s a good friend.

And suddenly he doubts every single sign he thought he’d noticed over the last few weeks. All the stolen glances, the low key flirting, the careful protectiveness. Maybe he was just being friendly all along?

They’re out on a call when Eddie gets enough.

It’s a false alarm call. A fire alarm went off at a nursery home and someone must have called 911 without knowing what was going on. It turned out to be cookies left too long in the oven, and a cancelled evacuation of a group of very grumpy elderly people.

And since there’s nothing to do, the team ends up just standing around lazily while Bobby has to finish a report with the nurse in charge.

But instead of goofing around with Eddie, Chim and Hen, Buck simply leaves to go sit in the fire truck by himself. When Eddie follows and asks what’s wrong, he gets an unconvincing nothing’s wrong, Eddie, why would it be? I just need to be alone for a little bit … and Eddie is forced to leave him be.

It can’t go on for much longer than this or Eddie will go insane. He has to do something, has to find out what’s going on, why Buck is avoiding him and more importantly, what he can do to get him back.

He sees Hen disappear into the ambulance alone, and before he even realises it he’s following her in and closing the door behind him.

“Hey, can I ride with you?”

“Uhh,” Hen starts. “Well, usually Chim–”

Out of the side view mirror, Eddie gets a glimpse of Chim walking dutifully towards the ambulance, aiming for his usual place in the passenger seat, which Eddie is currently occupying. He rolls down the window.

“Sorry Chim, do you mind?”

Chim stops, confused. Eddie gives him a look that says please don’t question me , and Chim slowly backs away and leaves for the fire truck instead.

“What’s up with you?” Hen asks. She turns on the ambulance and sets it in gear, driving slowly away from the scene.

Eddie lets a hand go through his hair, feeling a little wrecked and sweaty. “I need some advice.”

“Okay.” Hen nods curtly. Eddie takes it as a go ahead to continue.

“So I’m gonna be really forward right now… what do you think my chances are with Buck?”

“Sorry?” She jerks a little in her seat, but keeps her eyes on the road.

“You know, romantically,” Eddie says. He looks out of the window; the fire truck with Chim, Bobby and Buck is right behind them.

“Uh... damn, you’re right, that was really forward.” Hen says. “Since when did you realise you’re into guys, anyway?”

“Since I found out that Buck is my secret admirer,” Eddie says. He feels the sweat in his palms heat up, and absent mindedly turns up the AC.

“What! You’re sure?”

“Yes – no – almost. It’s technically still just a hunch. I have nothing concrete, but Hen, I know Buck. Isn’t this exactly the kind of thing he’d do?”

“Maybe, but is that all you have to go off of?”

They’re driving on a bigger road now, and Eddie closes the window before getting a glimpse of the fire truck one last time, still behind them.

“Look, he’s been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why. I’m scared that maybe it’s because I’ve been trying to flirt back, or that he knows I’m getting close to figuring it out.”

Hen is quiet for long enough to make Eddie nervous. He lets his head fall silently back in his seat.

Then Hen says, “well, I actually have been noticing a change in him lately. He was awfully quiet today.”

“Yes, exactly!” Eddie says, sitting up again, ecstatic that he hasn’t been reading into things. “And I’m sure it’s because of me, Hen, and it’s killing me.”

Hen tuts, clearly unsure of what to say to this, so Eddie continues.

“And of course this happens at the same time as the flowers stop coming. There’s no way that’s a coincidence, right?” He looks over at Hen, who’s driving seamlessly despite Eddie throwing his Buck crisis in her face. “It must be him, there’s no other way… but why is he acting like this…”

“Well, you definitely won’t find out if it is him, that’s for damn sure,” Hen says.

Eddie’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? You don’t know what I mean?” Hen says, grasping the steering wheel tighter.

Eddie shakes his head. He isn’t a mindreader.

Hen sighs, exasperated. “Those notes have already crossed a delicate line between friendship and more. He would never come clean if there was even a tiny risk of him losing you.”

“What?” Eddie says, completely lost. “That’s crazy, why would he lose me?”

“I know he won’t! But he doesn’t know that,” Hen says, gentler now. “Look, it’s very common for queer people to realise they have feelings for a straight best friend. It’s almost like a rite of passage. And sometimes it’s something you can just laugh at and forget about… but other times, especially if it’s serious, that kind of thing can end friendships”

“But–” but Eddie doesn’t know what to say. He’s had a lot of scenarios in his head for the past month, but none of them have ended their friendship.

“Have you thought about how you’d react if he came clean to you?”

He looks out of the window again, not wanting to face Hen’s stare. The fire truck is out of his view now. An image of Buck waking up next to Eddie, a strike of sun igniting a glow on his body from his face to his naked torso, comes to his mind.

He coughs. “A little bit…”

“Well?”

Eddie sighs. “I guess I would like it.”

“Okay,” Hen says. He can practically hear her suppress a smile. “Then why don’t you just make the first move?”

He can’t just ask him directly. What if he says no?

“Now I feel like I’m back to my first question, Hen,” Eddie says, resigned. But Hen is making their final turn, and before he can make any more inquiries they’re driving into the firehouse.

Somehow the firetruck is already there, and Eddie briefly wonders if Hen took a longer journey just to finish the conversation, or it’s just a matter of traffic, when Buck is suddenly standing right in front of him.

“Hey, are you okay?” Buck asks immediately as Eddie jumps out of the ambulance.

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You didn’t ride in the firetruck,” he says. Eddie walks towards the locker room with Buck trailing close behind him.

“You said you wanted to be alone. I’m just giving you space,” Eddie says. He tries his hardest not to look at Buck, but…

When he finally gives in, he’s met with the saddest eyes he’s ever seen.

“I take it back,” Buck says. Eddie takes him in; his hair is unruly and it looks like he’s been crying. “Look, I’m sorry. Chim kind of told me I was being an asshole.”

“I’m glad you listened to him,” Eddie turns around again to open his locker, but Buck’s hand is faster and the locker gets slammed shut and replaced by Buck pressing himself in between the locker doors and Eddie.

“Also, I’m really sorry you aren’t hearing anything more from the flower person.”

They’re chest to chest, and Eddie can feel how fast Buck’s heart beats, the way his muscles tense. And that’s the last drop for Eddie.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “It just saddens me, you know, not just because of Chris but because of me, too.” It feels like he’s edging closer to Buck, even though that should physically be impossible. “I was looking forward to thanking them personally. And it’s not that I had any expectations at all, you know? Like even if I might’ve gotten a little bit too attached, that doesn’t matter at all because the experience was enough.”

Buck looks like he’s going to faint. He nods silently. Eddie continues,

“Even if they might’ve just been doing it as a low commitment thing, that doesn’t matter to me. I can love them anyway,” Eddie says. “Or the experience, at least. Since, you know, I won’t ever get to make that decision.”

“I see,” Buck croaks.

The last gift comes when he is least expecting it. It’s been a taxating shift, not much time for down time, and Eddie is exhausted. Him and Chim are walking into the locker room when a panicked-looking Buck nearly runs into them on his way out.

“Sorry, got to go, see you guys tomorrow,” he says as he’s rushing out of the firehouse.

“What’s up with him?” Chim says as they each gather in front of the lockers. Eddie has no idea, as he has been trying to give Buck the same medicine right back, and thus hasn’t really talked to him all day. However, he did overhear him talking to Hen earlier about some kind of problem, so it could be related to that.

He thinks about voicing this concern to Chim as he’s opening his locker. “No idea, maybe–” but his words are caught in his throat as a small package falls to the ground.

“Is that from them?” Chim asks, incredulous.

“Probably,” Eddie says as casually as he can. But his heart is racing a mile. He bends down to pick it up and opens it carefully as Chim watches in anticipation. It’s small, and it doesn’t take him long to unfold the soft, pinkish wrapping paper to reveal… a tiny flower pin.

Eddie lets the wrapping paper fall to the floor as he holds the little pin in his hands. It’s a white flower with large, round petals and a yellow head, but unfortunately Eddie still doesn’t know –

“Hold on, there’s a note there,” Chim says as he examines the paper on the floor. He picks up a little white note which appears to have writing on both sides. Chim reads the side that only has one sentence. “It says, ‘ gardenia, the flower of secret love ’.”

Well, duh. That’s no news.

“Let me see the other side,” Eddie says and takes the note from Chim. It’s another poem, and Eddie feels his hands go numb as he reads,

I hide myself within my flower,

That wearing on your breast,

You, unsuspecting, wear me too—

And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,

That, fading from your vase,

You, unsuspecting, feel for me

Almost a loneliness

“Can’t believe they got access to your locker now, that’s crazy,” Chim says, but Eddie doesn’t hear it.

He’s reading the poem again. And again. A desperate attempt to digest some kind of meaning. Anything that can answer the question he so eloquently asked all that time ago, why do you hide your feelings like that?

I hide myself within my flower. So he is hiding his feelings in the flowers, in the gifts?

You, unsuspecting, wear me too. And now Eddie has the pin to wear on his chest. The feelings? He has the feelings to wear on his chest, but he doesn’t know it? What feeling is he unsuspecting of?

That, fading from your vase . He lets his thumb caress the little flower pin, made of metal and definitely not fading like the other flowers he’s gotten. Well, one that is everlasting , he thinks.

None of this is an answer to his question of why. And then he remembers the second part of his deal with Rosie, the part where he asked for a better description when he’d come to pick up the letter… and if anything, this is a direct response to the letter, which can only mean Rosie must have seen him again.

“Chim, I have to go,” Eddie says, dazed.

Eddie drives to Rosie’s like he’s in some kind of lavender haze; this is it, this is when he’s finally gonna get the last piece of the puzzle; the final answer. He expects no more than going into Rosie’s labyrinth of flower pots and aromas and finally understanding the greatest love story of his life.

What he does not expect is for Rosie to have… nothing.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the man never came and got your letter,” Rosie says as she takes out Eddie’s envelope from underneath the counter. “I still have it right here.”

He takes it back and stares at it for a second. It’s unopened, completely as it was when he gave it in.

It’s like a lightbulb explodes in his head. And the plan slowly forms itself in front of him, like vines growing in circles, encapsulating the idea in their core.

“Thank you, Rosie,” he says sincerely, and leaves the shop. There is something he has to do.

Knock.

He’s standing outside Buck’s apartment door. The gardenia pin sits proudly on his breast pocket. He takes a long breath. He feels calm.

The door opens.

“Hey,” Eddie says. “Can I come in?”

Buck is standing in the doorway, he’s wearing that old, blue hoodie of his that brings out the colour in his eyes. He nods and stands back to let Eddie in.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” Eddie says.

Buck shrugs. “You want a beer?”

“Uhh, thanks,” he says. He sits down at the kitchen island as Buck leans over the table, pushes a beer towards him. “I actually came here to talk to you about something.”

Buck’s body freezes for a second as he takes his beer to his lips. He takes a large swig.

Eddie stares at the way his neck moves as he swallows. He puts the beer down and gives Eddie an encouraging smile. “So-”

But before he can get another word out, his phone rings in his pocket. He puts a finger up to signal Buck to wait and fishes his phone out.. It’s Chris on a FaceTime call.

“Hey buddy!” He says, with a tone of faux surprise. He looks over at Buck, who’s smiling widely with those soft eyes he always reserves for Chris.

“So what is the news?” Chris says. He’s sporting a cheeky grin, trying to contain his laughter.

“Oh you wanna know the news?” Eddie eggs him on. Buck quirks his eyebrow, his eyes clearly showing a hesitant interest.

“I think I’m very close to having him,” Eddie says, looking directly at Buck. “You know, the flower man.”

He’s never mentioned to anyone else that he knows the gender of the secret admirer, but it doesn’t appear to be a surprise for Buck.

“Cool!” Chris says with a genuine sense of awe. “How did you find him?”

Eddie relaxes into the table. He’s got one eye on Chris and one eye on Buck. Buck’s not looking back at him though, busy playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“Well, you know how I wrote that letter to give to the flower shop woman?” Eddie says. “He responded to it so precisely, so I figured our plan worked, and I had finally found him. But then when I went to the flower shop again, she said that she hadn’t seen him at all.”

Buck stills at this, but still doesn’t look up.

“But that’s crazy! You were so close!” Chris says.

“Oh, I’m closer than you think, bud. Because you know what this means?” Eddie asks. Buck looks up now, curious and confused. “This means that he must have read the letter anyway. How else can he respond to it? He couldn’t have read it without going to the flower shop… unless he read it before it got there.”

Chris, perplexed, asks “how does that work?

Eddie locks eyes with Buck now. An understanding passes between them. Buck’s eyes soften, and Eddie feels like his whole soul is being lifted out of his body.

“It must be someone I showed the letter to before I delivered it. Someone I already know.”

There’s only one other person who saw that letter.

“That’s awesome,” Chris says, happy and oblivious to whatever is going on between Buck and Eddie. “So are you gonna date him now?”

Eddie looks back at Chris so quickly he might’ve gotten whiplash. “Oh, Buck is here,” he says as if he hasn’t been here the whole time. “Do you wanna say hi?”

“Yeah!” Chris says.

Eddie gives the phone to Buck and mouths that he’s just gonna go to the bathroom real quick.

He leaves them to catch up and immediately starts shaking upon entering the bathroom. He leans over the sink, splashes water in his face and looks himself in the eyes in the mirror.

You can do this, Eddie. It’s just Buck.

He chuckles nervously.

When he comes back to Buck’s kitchen it feels like he’s been gone for an age. Has the light gotten darker in there? He turns on a floor lamp. Its warm lights make the room feel romantic. Eddie shivers.

“I can’t believe you went to the Marvel diner without me…” he hears Chris say on the phone.

Eddie watches as Buck talks animatedly about the diner, his big sunshine smile taking up his whole face.

“Oh hey, your dad is back. Do you wanna say goodbye before you go?”

“Bye Buck! Bye Dad!”

“Bye Chris!” They say in unison before Buck ends the call.

A silence comes upon the room. Eddie didn’t have nerves to sit down, so he’s leaning on the kitchen counters. Buck turns around slowly, leans against the kitchen island, looking at Eddie.

“So… that was very clever. I’m impressed,” Buck says.

“Christopher’s idea.”

“Oh really, so that performance was just for me, then?” He says, clearly having caught on to Eddie’s farce. “I’m flattered–”

“Buck, thank you,” Eddie cuts him off. “You’ve changed everything, and you didn’t even do much. And I really love the flowers. They’re beautiful, all of them.”

Buck smiles, eyes downcast. “You’re welcome, I guess.” A Pause. “And thank you for the letter. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Eddie lets out a laugh. “You basically wrote it yourself.”

“You helped,” Buck muses. “And you seemed so desperate, it was the least I could do.”

A flirt. But Eddie is prepared, and he takes up the challenge. “I was pretty desperate. You really know how to make a man feel wanted,” Eddie says. “The flowers, the poetry, the cheesy pick-up lines… How could I do anything but fall?”

Buck quiets down, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink as he takes a sip of his beer. Eddie’s fingers tingle, and he feels the heat rising in his body.

“Well, I didn’t know you would be so interested,” Buck says after a while. He quirks his head to the side, taking Eddie in. “Until of course that day at the festival. Hey, what did you mean by that by the way?”

Something in Buck’s tone makes it feel like danger is coming. And he feels powerless. “With what?” He asks.

“With what you said that day, about dating?”

“Ah, you didn’t forget that,” he says. His mouth feels dry, but he doesn’t feel like drinking anymore. He feels the nervousness coming over him, and he takes a sip anyway, to dull his worry. “Well. I’ve been doing a lot of introspection these past few weeks. And I don’t really have a good relationship with women, do I?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“I guess I’ve never really dated anyone because I wanted to. With Marisol, everyone was pushing me to do something so that I wouldn’t end up lonely, and seeing her in the hardwood store, I thought it was a sign.”

“You know that would never happen, right? You will always have me.”

He says thank you with his eyes. “I ruined that relationship pretty thoroughly, didn’t I? And it wasn’t just the Kim stuff. The whole ex-nun thing was just an excuse for me to run away, again . Because I keep doing that. Either I run away, like with Shannon and Marisol, or my body says no, and I panic, like with Ana.”

“It wasn’t your fault that you panicked, Eddie.”

“I know. But I didn’t listen to my body, and still stayed with her for far longer than I should’ve. She didn’t deserve that.”

“People make mistakes. It’s okay.”

“You really love defending me, huh?”

Buck smirks. “Someone has to. You aren’t very good at it yourself.”

“Well, I’m gonna try to be better. And you’ve helped, without even realising it. I’ve never felt so good about myself before.”

“You mean, the secret, anonymous love helped. You didn’t know it was me till today,” Buck says cheekily, taking a chug of his beer.

“Well…” Eddie says. “I kind of always figured.”

Buck almost chokes on his beer. “There’s no way, I was so careful!”

Eddie shakes his head fondly, but he’s done with the shenanigans now. “But Buck… that hasn’t scared me. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Buck nods like he doesn’t really want to acknowledge that. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought there might be a reason why you’ve been doing it in secret. Didn’t want to offend you, or…” Eddie trails off. Buck is watching him with a curious look on his face. “Was there a particular reason you were doing it in secret?”

“You didn’t want my attention as Buck, remember? You were kind of pushing me away.”

Eddie’s heart sinks when he remembers the way he almost snapped at Buck, the way Buck was just trying to be kind and Eddie took his love and threw it away.

“But Eddie, I really am sorry for the way it progressed,” Buck says, his voice low, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “The way the letters got so… flirty, in the end. Couldn’t help myself, you looked so flushed and shy getting all this romantic attention. It was cute.”

“That’s– that’s okay,” Eddie stutters, feeling a deep blush creeping up his neck. He tries to hide it by taking a huge swig of his beer, but Buck still notices.

In fact, he is looking at him like he has never seen him before.

Eddie looks away as a silence settles over the room again. Damn it , he thought he was prepared, he was supposed to be in charge of this, but one, just one suggestive comment from Buck and he’s back in the trenches.

He finds Buck’s eyes again, so kind and inviting, and it kind of reminds him of the last time they were in this weird space between challenge and flirt and –

“But you were going to stop completely. You basically told me that, and you were never gonna tell me,” Eddie says, failing to put an edge to his voice, the statement feeling like desperation on his tongue.

“Eddie–”

“What changed?” He challenges.

Buck puts his beer down and shifts nervously. “Look, it’s kind of hard to say it…”

“Try,” Eddie pleads.

Buck takes a step forward.

“I was confused,” he says, taking another step. “It felt like you were coming on to me, and I just couldn’t let myself believe it.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Buck laughs. “Eddie, you’re kind of hard to read sometimes. You’ve never shown interest in me, or men in general, before… uh, now. I didn’t know how it would end, if I was setting myself up for hurt, or hurting you…”

Buck has come very close now, less than an arm’s length away. If Eddie just leaned a little bit forward, he would be able to fall into his arms.

He tightens his grip on the kitchen counters. “You still haven’t told me what changed. Why the gardenia?”

Buck loosens his shoulders and slowly leans towards the kitchen counters, so he’s right next to Eddie. So close, but still too far.

“You changed, I guess,” he says quietly. Eddie furrows his brows in question. “I think you became a little braver. You said something like you didn’t care about the outcome, that you’d love me anyway.”

“And I meant it,” Eddie says.”I Will. I do.”

But makes as if to say something, but stops. He seems to be struggling, chewing on his words, deep in thought. He leans closer, making sure Eddie hears what he has to say.

“ I love you isn’t enough to explain what I feel about you, Eddie.”

Eddie draws in a sharp breath. Buck continues, “I love you. But you know that, it’s not a secret. And I know you love me, too. I love you when you’re being silly and laugh at my bad pick-up lines. I love you when you’re sad and angry and can’t stand me.”

“There’s never a time where I can’t stand you, Buck.”

Buck nods. “I know. The thing is, though, that love takes a lot of shapes. I also love Maddie, and Chim, and Bobby, and Hen. I love them all in different, individual ways. And the way that I love you is something that I don’t know how to explain with words.”

“Buck-” Eddie says, feeling himself tear up.

“Let me. I love you so much that I don’t care that you don’t love me the same. Love me as a friend, or a brother, or a partner, or whatever. I’ll take anything you can give me, Eddie. And I’m not even really sad about it, because I love what we have now. And I want you to know that.”

It’s Eddie who moves closer now. Like a magnetic field, Buck pulls him in. “Well, wow,” he stutters. “How am I ever going to be able to match up to that?”

Buck shrugs shyly.

“Look Buck, you were right. I am hard to read. And I don’t really know what I’m doing, to be honest. This whole thing has kind of taken me by storm,” Eddie says, but he feels the words are insignificant, like he can’t possibly explain. “I just know that I feel things for you that I’ve never felt before.”

They’re even closer now, fully in each other’s space. Eddie doesn’t know who moved last. Maybe them both.

“That’s okay, Eddie, you don’t have to have everything figured out,” Buck says, but he’s looking him up and down like he wants to eat him.

“I’ve never really thought about being with men until this summer,” Eddie says as he realised this.

“Well, neither have I,” Buck says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I guess that’s true,” Eddie says. “But at least you got a kiss to help you along.”

Buck’s eyes light up. “I mean, that’s not too late for you, either, if you want to be helped along a little bit.”

Eddie thinks about the implications of what Buck is saying. Thinks about his lips on his, his hands on his body and… He feels his face flush, his heart rate pick up, his hands get clammy, and maybe, maybe this is the answer. “Okay,” he says. Their eyes meet. Eddie swallows instinctively.

Buck leans in. At each millisecond he gets closer, and it feels like time slows to a stop, like hours pass by with each forward movement. His hand reaches up to cup Eddie’s chin, and he tilts it up slightly, to get the angle right. His hands are soft and warm, and Eddie leans into his touch like he’s starved. He can feel Buck’s breathing on his lips and his cheeks now, and why does it feel nervous? He feels a ringing in his ears, a tingling on his skin, and he knows he’s nervous, but Buck too?

“You can stop me anytime, okay?” Buck whispers.

Eddie nods once. Their lips are almost touching now and Eddie closes his eyes, and suddenly Buck is there. The touch is warm and wet and it’s not like electricity. It’s like comfort and ease and it’s right. Buck moves his lips in a slow rhythm and Eddie follows. He wants to be closer, to push their lips harder together, to have this feeling fill up his whole body, from the daze in his head to the beating of his heart, when suddenly, Buck pulls away.

“How was that?”

Eddie opens his eyes. Buck’s lips are still close, pink and puffy.

“I don’t know,” his voice shakes. He takes a breath. “I… I think I need to do it again to be completely sure.”

A smile tugs on his lips and Buck’s worried gaze changes so abruptly to something much, much darker.

“Oh, shut up.”

There is a hunger in his eyes and suddenly they’re kissing again. Eddie grabs a hold of Buck’s t-shirt and clings, pulling him closer until they’re pressed into the kitchen counter. The hand that was previously holding his chin is now going through his hair, the thumb caressing sweetly around his temple. The other hand is in movement, feeling him up from his chest to his hip, from his waist to the top of his thighs. It rests there, dangerously close to his crotch but never going further.

Eddie feels high.

Then Buck pulls away again “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m more than okay, I feel so, so okay.” He has words but they will not come.

Buck giggles. Eddie feels dizzy, and the hand that’s clinging to Buck’s shirt is shaking.

“Hey, relax, it’s just me,” Buck whispers. He caresses his cheek and Eddie leans into it.

“I love you, Buck,” he says. Buck smiles, his eyes watery. They kiss again, slowly and sweetly, and not for long enough to keep up the heat.

“What now?” Buck says into his mouth, a nervous smile hidden on his lips.

“What now?” Eddie repeats, wondering. He lets his hand uncurl on Buck’s shirt and lets it slowly explore the muscles in his back, caressing him soothingly. “Well, as I said, I want to give the favour back.”

Buck chuckles. It tickles Eddie’s skin. “Okay, how are you gonna do that?”

Eddie leans back a little to get a look at Buck’s face. “I’m gonna show you just how romantic I can be. But I’m gonna do it openly,” he teases. “I’m gonna take you on a first date you will never forget.”

“Oh yeah?” Buck laughs shyly. “And what about after that?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Buckley, so I guess you’re gonna have to wait and see,” Eddie smirks. He lets the hand on Buck’s back reach down to the edge of his ass, getting a very cute reaction out of him. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Oh yeah,” Buck says. “I can’t wait to find out.”

Eddie looks at Buck’s lips and before he knows it they’re kissing again.

fin

Notes:

Thank you if you made it this far!
And thank you to miss Emily Dickinson and miss Sarah Orne Jewett for the lovely poetry and the inspiration for this fic!

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