Archive of Our Own ^beta

Evan Buckley wanted to be something. He wanted to help people, to be the beacon of light on someone’s darkest day. 

The Navy SEAL’s hadn’t worked out. He’d had the physicality for it, proud of the contours he’d sculpted across his body throughout the years. It was the people. The camaraderie was there, but only if you fit a certain box, a stereotype of what a man should be.

He’d tried to squeeze his way into it, limbs sticking out in jagged edges as he stripped away layer after layer of his very being to gain the approval of men who had already decided he wouldn’t fit. 

The firefighter academy had been fun. He’d made friends there, for once. People lit up when they saw him, strong pats on the back and happy shouts of “ Buck !” echoing through paper thin dorm walls as his team helped him file down the barbed points left by the Navy. 

One bad call was all it took to take away the family Buck had fought so hard to make. Two permanent plates screwed firmly into each side of his left leg. He’d worked overtime with his physical therapists, ditching the god awful cane in a few months, but when he walked into his training officers room with a light limp, he wasn’t surprised to see the dismissal papers laid before him. 

“I’m sorry, Buck. You were my best candidate. You’ll always have a home here, but I can’t risk sending you out when you’re not at your best. I hope you understand.”

He did. But it didn’t stop the tears tracking down his face as he shuffled down the academy stairs, everything he owned wrapped up in a duffel bag pulled haphazardly over his shoulder. 

Rather than admitting defeat and returning to his parents and their awaiting “ I told you so ”, he worked odd jobs waiting at restaurants, pouring drinks for half cut patrons in dingy bars, volunteering at his local shelter for women and children. 

It was there he met Jimmy. 5 years old, full of light and joy, the bruise covering half of his face doing nothing to stop his enthusiasm as he pulled Buck to a little table, dragging him into one of those kid sized chairs that left his knees somewhere close to his ears. 

Jimmy had handed him a box of crayons and a plain piece of paper. “ Draw with me, Bucky !”

So Buck did. 

And somewhere along the line, he never stopped. 

–

“Ok! Today kids, we're gonna be making flowers out of craft paper!” Holding up the reams of coloured paper and box of kid scissors, Buck makes his way around the room. 

“Mr Buck, your favourite flower is a sunflower, right?” 

He wasn't supposed to have favourites, but if he had to choose, it would be Chris, the cheeky 7 year old in front of him, waiting with patient eyes for his response.

“Yes! Did you know, young sunflowers move throughout the day to follow the sun. It’s something called heliotropism!” Buck points to the painting on the back wall, depicting that exact scenario. 

Chris stares back at him, trying to process the long word Buck had just told him. 

Buck continues on, finding it hard to stop info dumping even if the recipient is too busy digging the ear wax out of his ear. “Big sunflowers face East always, it means when the morning sun comes up, they get warmer quicker and that attracts more bees to pollinate!”

Chris nods back at him, leaning forward in interest. At the mention of bees, he scrunches his face up in some form of disgust. “I had a dream Daddy got attacked by bees. There were so many, Mr Buck! I told my daddy about my dream and he called them a beenado. What is a beenado?”

Buck’s fights back his first response, a confused “no fuckin’ idea, bud” . Instead, he watches as Chris grabs a sheet of yellow paper and a pair of scissors from the box. 

“I’m guessing a tornado of bees, which is… kinda scary thinking about it. The noise alone… so much buzzing…” Maybe the Sharknado creators would be interested in branching out into insects. 

Snapping himself out of the logistics of what thousands of robotic bee-bots would look like, he looks down to see Chris’ unblinking eyes still staring up at him, before the boy quickly changes the topic. “My daddy likes roses. Well, he says he does but he put the roses he got in the mail in the bin. So I don’t think he likes them that much.”

Buck moves along to stand behind the kid beside him who was too busy chewing on the end of their pencil to notice him. “Maybe they had to go in the bin, Chris. Were they wilting?”

He pauses for a moment, clearly deep in thought. “No. Daddy put them in the bin as soon as he got them. He said something like “cheetah witch” but I couldn't hear properly over Spongebob. Do you think cheetah’s can be witches? How could their paws hold the wands?”

He did not get paid enough to do this job.

--

This wasn’t the first time Buck had heard about the antics of Chris’ infamous father. In the 8 months he had been teaching Chris, full name Christopher Diaz, he had never met the man in real life, instead only handing Chris over to one of his father’s friends.  

Out of all of the friends, Bobby may be his favourite. The last time he had come to pick Chris up, he left a Tupperware box of brownies on Buck’s desk from his step daughter that his stomach very much appreciated after a long day of teaching. 

The others were all a little, and he means this was as much respect as he can muster, strange.

Albert had grabbed the backpack and left the kid. He only returned once he realised the backpack wasn’t talking back to him.

Ravi had been way too overly touchy and flirty, which left him with a sour taste in his mouth when he found out Ravi had a boyfriend waiting in the car.

Howard had shown up with a lowered baseball cap, tracksuit bottoms and a black mask covering his face. He was about to call the police until Chris had flitted over and enthusiastically latched onto his “uncle Chim’s” leg. 

Buck thought he would have met Chris’ father at parents' evening, but when Chris showed up with a scowl deep set on his face and a sheepish looking Bobby being dragged in behind him, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.

Buck knew from Chris’ daily facts about his father that he was a firefighter. This fact was only solidified when he’d given the kids a free session for drawing, and Chris had managed to whip up a near perfect drawing of a fire truck, bumbling through a 10 minute long speech about what each section was for and where all of the gear went. 

Buck also knew he was a single father, from Chris’ file but also from when the kids had been asked to draw their families and present them to the class. Chris had hesitatingly tugged on his sleeve halfway through to ask if it was ok that his drawing didn’t look like everyone else’s. Buck’s heart ached a little for the young boy. 

He knew other, more important facts about the man too. 

1, He was older than Buck. 

( “Mr Buck, how old are you?

Looking up from his creation, his eyes meet Chris’. “I’m 25, bud. Why do you ask?”

“Daddy asked me to tell him about my favourite teacher. I’m collecting facts. Also, that means you’re old, Mr Buck. My dad says he’s old and he’s only a year older than you, so you must be old too.”

Chuckling at his childish crudeness, Buck fiddles with the half made playdough dog on his desk. “Thanks for that, bud.” 

He still slipped a sweet thank you doodle of him holding a tulip into his bag at lunch. He liked knowing he was someone’s favourite.)

2, He was, very much, straight. .

( “Mr Buck, you know how you said you had a boyfriend?”

Finishing up with the child in front of him, Buck turns to face the inquisitive 7 year old. “Yes, Chris?”

“My daddy had a girlfriend. Do you think they know each other?” His head tilts to the side, reminding Buck of the puppy he’d crossed paths with this morning.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, bud.”

The next weekend he broke things off with Tommy. “Better off as friends” was a funny way of saying “he cheated on me for 6 months” but he doesn't quite think the kids want to hear about that. Chris said the same thing about his father and his girlfriend. Buck can’t help but wonder if their situation was the same.)

Finally, the most important point to him. 

3, Chris’ father really loved him.

(Kneeling beside a downcast Chris, Buck places a caring hand on his back. “What’s up, Chris?”

“Daddy was crying last night.” He shuffles forlornly in his seat. “I asked him what was wrong but he told me I was too young to understand. I’m not too young, I’m 7! That’s super old!”

Humming softly, he pats his back. “I’m sure it’s nothing bad. Has anything happened at home?”

“Not really. Since Mom died and Daddy’s girlfriend left, Daddy doesn’t leave the house unless he has to work. He always looks really tired and sad when he leaves. When I asked Mr Bobby why he couldn’t stop work so he wouldn't be so sad when he leaves, he told me that Daddy has to go to work to earn money to look after me. Why can’t he just print more?”

“You can’t print more money. It leads to inflation and other eco- Anyway.” While he loves a good info dump, he’s not about to explain the concept of recession to a child who just 2 hours ago stuck playdough up his nose. “Next time you see your dad, just give him a big hug and tell him you love him. I’m sure that will make him feel so much better!”

Chris brightens up at his suggestion, bright eyes meeting Buck’s. “Thanks, Mr Buck! He does always say how much he loves my hugs. You’re super smart, maybe you should be with my daddy and help him too.” )

--

Buck would never admit it but he had imagined meeting the enigma that was Chris’ father many times. All of which took place at school. None of which took place in the small supermarket next to his apartment. 

So when the telltale call of “Mr Buck!” comes from across the aisle, he is definitely not expecting to come face to face with Chris and a stranger. A very… very handsome stranger.

“Daddy, this is Mr Buck, the one I told you about! Mr Buck, this is my dad!” Chris exclaimed whilst Buck was stunned into silence for the first time in his life.

Round, doe eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes and brunette hair coiffed up gently. Taut, unblemished skin spread taught on high cheekbones and a grecian-esque nose. Plush looking, full lips pulled into a teasing grin.  

Buck’s snapped back to reality as he realises he’s been openly ogling Chris’ dad for a good few minutes, and he had obviously noticed. 

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m Evan Buckley, Chris’ art teacher. But everyone just calls me Buck. It’s nice to meet you, Mr Diaz.” He fumbles with the basket full of shopping, extending a hand towards the still grinning man. 

Chris’ father brushes off the formal greeting and smiles warmly at Buck, hand reaching out to firmly grasp his, “Please, call me Eddie. Mr Diaz makes me feel so old.”

“But you are old daddy, you said you were.”

“Thanks, Chris.” Eddie’s brow furrows slightly jokingly and Buck can’t stop himself from being drawn to the movement, eyes tracing along the contours of Mr Di- Eddie’s face. 

“Anyway, I believe this is our first meeting since you started teaching Chris. Sorry, I haven’t been around much, it’s been a stressful few months.” Eddie chuckles, shoulders shrugging slightly. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Parents have a lot on their plates, I’m not going to hold that against them. Especially parent’s with a job like yours.”

Chris’ father nods, tension strung across his, admittedly very broad, shoulders. Buck can see that Chris has checked out of the conversation, small hands playing with the ripped strands on his jeans. 

Buck realises he currently looks exactly how someone would expect an art teacher to look, white t-shirt splattered with various colours and jeans that have more holes than jeans at this point. He subconsciously checks out his fingernails and yep, there’s yellow paint embedded in his cuticles. 

Eddie, on the other hand, has obviously just come from a shift. A tailored LAFD shirt hugs every curve of his body, tight belt looped through straight trousers, accentuating his waist to shoulder ratio, making Buck feel a little hot under the collar despite being stood next to the freezers. 

Realising he has, once again, been checking his student’s father out, he looks back at Chris who’s turned to playing with the sunflower ring on his middle finger. It was his favourite of the many rings Buck would wear, and secretly he’d always make sure to wear it on days he knew he would have art classes with the boy. 

“Well, we should probably leave Mr Buck to do his shopping. I’ll, uh, see you soon?” Eddie asks expectantly, the hand that had been so soft and firm in Buck’s now reaching towards his son. 

Buck smiles brightly at the other, nodding as Eddie crouches down towards the young boy, “Goodbye, bud, be good for your dad!” 

“Bye, Mr Buck! See you tomorrow!” Chris replies reluctantly as he lets go of Buck’s ring, and waves whilst pouting towards him. 

Buck waves brightly at the boy, who turns to walk alongside his father who’s hand rests gently on the top of Chris’ back to keep him steady, watching as the two move along the aisle. Chris turns back to wave at Buck and he waves back once more before turning to grab the frozen vegetables he’d been eyeing before the encounter. 

–

He didn’t expect Eddie to keep his word, but after class the following day, he came strolling through the school doors. His t-shirt was slightly damp and clung to his pecs, and Buck had to turn away before the blush sitting on his cheeks grew too dark to ignore. 

Chris meets his father halfway, small arms wrapping around his shoulders as he’s hoisted to rest against Eddie’s hip. Scoffing happily, Eddie continued forward, listening intently as Chris started to tell him about his day. 

“Hi, Mr Diaz.” Buck can’t stop the wide smile from spreading across his face, watching the two walking towards him. 

“I told you to call me Eddie, but hi, Mr Buckley.”

“If I’m gonna call you Eddie, at least call me Buck. How come you’re here today? Albert told me the other day that he would be coming to pick Chris up? Not that it isn’t nice to see you…” He trails off before he can dig himself into a deeper hole. 

Eddie looks amused, so hopefully, he’s not made too much of a fool of himself. “Albert was supposed to come, but I finished my shift early so I thought it would be nice to pick Chris up for once. We’re gonna go for ice cream since it’s so nice out.”

Chris perks up at the mention of ice cream, unwrapping himself from Eddie to grab onto Buck’s hand, pulling him closer. “Daddy, can Mr Buck come too? He likes vanilla just like you! You two can share because you always complain about being too full to finish it! I like strawberry!”

The last statement is directed toward Buck, still leaning off balance and slightly bewildered. “Chris, I’m sure your dad wants to spend time with just you. We can have ice cream together next week with the class.”

“It’s ok.” Eddie’s voice has his head snapping up to the man watching the two of them fondly. “It would be nice to be able to finish an ice cream for once. I mean, that is if you want to come?”

Looking down from Eddie’s hopeful yet nervous expression to Chris’ excited one, Buck nods happily. Chris squeals and pats Eddie to be put down, heading towards the last few kids in the classroom, boasting about how he’s going for ice cream with Mr Buck. 

Buck shakes his head before steadying himself once more, pressing out the creases in his jeans. “I have to wait until all of the kids are gone but that should only take another 10 minutes if you’re ok with waiting?”

Eddie hums and nods, walking across to grab Chris from where he’s playing around with Johnny and Steven. “I’ll wait with Chris in the car. Come out whenever you’re ready.”

The two of them walk out, leaving Buck surrounded by the remaining kids whining about why they can’t have ice cream with Mr Buck. 

After promising to have an ice cream day the next week, the other children leave with their parents happily and Buck grabs some paperwork from his desk. Shutting the lights off and locking the door to his classroom, he passes Olly on the desk who quickly grabs the keys to the main door and joins him on his walk outside. 

The two of them talk about their weekend plans as they cross the courtyard. Olly was going to meet his boyfriend’s parents for the first time this weekend, asking Buck about whether a blue tie or black tie would go better with his boyfriend’s planned outfit. Buck points out, jokingly, that they’re going to a bowling alley and that maybe a tie isn’t the right choice, but Olly shakes his opinion off. Humming gently, Buck chooses the blue tie before grabbing his phone from his pocket. 

-

Do Not Respond

Are you ever gonna reply to me? I told you it was a mistake, he meant nothing to me. 

-

Olly sneaks a peek over Buck’s shoulder before huffing softly. “Babe, why haven’t you blocked his number yet? Y’know I saw him the other day with another guy, they looked very close. ”

Shrugging his shoulders, Buck types out a quick reply before searching the car park for Eddie and Chris. He spots them in the corner, Chris waving excitedly from his spot on the hood of Eddie’s car. 

“What are Chris and his dad still doing here?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Buck keeps his eyes on the young boy in front of him. “We’re going for ice cream.”

He knows Olly’s looking at him with a suggestive expression. “You sneaky boy. Are you fucking him?”

Spluttering, Buck slaps Olly’s shoulder, laughing as he feigns pain briefly before nudging the slapped shoulder with his own. “No, I am not fucking him. We literally met for the first time yesterday. Chris basically coerced him into asking me to come. Stop looking at me like that! Go be gross with your boyfriend and leave me alone, you fiend.”

He giggles before skipping off to his boyfriend’s car parked three spaces from Eddie. He waves at Chris, who mimics the action happily, before slipping inside. 

Buck’s now standing next to Eddie’s car, feeling a little stupid for agreeing when he knows how awkward he is around people he finds attractive.

“Hi, Mr Buck! Come on, let’s go! I’m hungry!” Chris shuffles from the hood of the car, Buck’s arms reaching out in worry until the boy sets his feet on the ground, moving to wait at the door for Eddie to open it and help him get strapped into the car seat in the back seat. 

“Um, you can just get in whilst I sort this out. It’ll only take a second.”

Nodding, he slips into the passenger seat, fingers twisting in his lap. Two seconds later, Eddie is slipping into the driver's seat and offering Buck a soft smile before starting the car. 

Chris is the one who starts the conversation, telling Eddie all about his day and asking Buck to talk about how good his painting was today. Eddie nods along, noises of assent slotting in between to show he was listening. It only takes five minutes to reach the small ice cream parlour on the main road. Buck falls into the usual habit of resting a hand on the top of Chris’ back, blushing when his fingertips brush Eddie’s who had apparently had the same habit. 

Seated at a small booth, Buck and Eddie face each other whilst Chris sits on the rounded section inside so he could be next to both of them. Eddie’s the one who orders, voice soft and smooth, reminding Buck of the ice cream they were about to eat. The two of them chat idly until the waitress returns, mostly about their jobs and little anecdotes about Chris. 

They’re in the middle of talking about Chris’ habit of labelling every drawing after one of Eddie’s coworkers when a big bowl of vanilla ice cream is placed in front of the two of them, two spoons nestled together. Buck blushes at the implication, eyes trained on the bowl instead of the man across from him. Chris thanks the waitress brightly when she places a small bowl of strawberry ice cream with whipped cream and sprinkles in front of him. 

“You’re welcome, darling. Your daddies are so nice to buy you such a lovely ice cream!”

Buck’s about to correct her when Eddie smiles at the waitress and thanks her. The blush on Buck’s cheeks darkens, and he can see hints of it reflected on the tips of Eddie’s ears. 

The three eat their ice cream mostly in silence, soft clinks of Buck’s and Eddie’s spoons knocking together and Chris rambling about any and everything filling the air around them. Briefly excusing himself to use the bathroom, Buck quickly walks to the counter to pay for the order. When it comes to the last spoonful of vanilla ice cream, Eddie glances up at Buck, eyes engaged in a silent conversation through spoon nudging until Buck gives in and takes the final mouthful for himself. 

Looking over, he notices Chris has smears of pink across his face and hands but before he has a chance to grab a napkin, Eddie is already leaning across the table and swiping the stubborn smudges from his cheeks. Focusing on cleaning Chris’ hands, Buck tries to ignore the fact that Eddie’s face is mere inches from his. 

Once Chris is clean and ready to go, Eddie goes up to the counter to pay but returns with a frown marring his face. “Did you pay for the ice cream?”

Buck just wanted to be friendly, but Eddie looks slightly upset and he can’t help but think he may have messed up, once again. “Ah, yeah. I never really have a reason to spend money since I live alone so I wanted to pay for you guys as a thank you for inviting me out.”

Eddie’s frown deepens and Buck’s gut clenches as the man’s eyes narrow. “Thank you for paying but this was my treat to my son.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Truly, I just wanted to thank you for this.” He’s scrambling for words now, not wanting to make another mistake with the man in front of him. “Honestly, I don’t really leave my apartment unless it’s to go to work or the gym so it was nice to be out and about for once. I promise I’m not trying to undermine you in any way.”

He hopes the sincerity is coming through in his voice, turning on his famous puppy-eyed pout for good measure. 

It must work because Eddie softens, turning to pull Chris up to rest on his hip. “Ok. Well, in order to make it up to me, I’ll pay for next time.”

Flushing at the implication of a next time, Buck follows the father-son duo out onto the street. 

“Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”

Shaking his head, Buck points to an apartment block a few feet down the road. “I live over there so there’s really no need. Thank you for the offer though. I hope you and Chris get home safe. Um, perhaps I could give you my phone number so you can let me know the two of you got home alright?”

Eddie flusters and clumsily pulls his phone from his pocket, handing it over to Buck. Inputting his number under “Buck 🙂”, he opens the camera app and snaps a quick selfie, setting it as his contact picture. Handing it back to the other, he can see a hint of amusement on Eddie’s face that leaves a warm feeling in his gut. 

“There you go. Well, I’ll get going now. I’ll see you on Monday, bud!”

Chris clambers from his father’s arms, almost launching herself at Buck, leaving him barely any time to react. Quickly tightening his grip around him, he nuzzles closer into Buck’s neck. The action startles a giggle out of him, a reaction to how ticklish his neck is. 

“Bye-bye, Mr Buck. I’ll miss you!”

Squeezing his arms tighter around the boy, they sway from side to side gently. “Chris, you’ll see me in two days. There won’t be time to miss me!”

“I always miss you, Mr Buck. You’re my favourite teacher!” He leans a bit closer, voice lowered to a stage whisper. “And don’t tell Daddy but you’re also my favourite person.”

Eddie lets out an affronted noise at the admission, hands reaching out to tickle Chris’ waist. In retaliation, his arms lock tighter around Buck’s neck until he’s struggling to breathe a little. Eddie notices, hands falling from his sides. 

“Ok, Chris. You gotta let go now so Mr Buck can breathe.”

He unlatches himself from Buck’s neck, reaching a hand up to pat his cheek. Smiling back in response, Buck resists the urge to nuzzle the soft palm. He sets the boy down onto his feet, watching him wrap around Eddie’s thigh. The three of them share a final set of goodbyes before Buck turns to walk to his apartment. 

Looking back, Chris waves from his car seat, Eddie matching him with a smaller, softer one. Buck waves back shyly, slipping into the front door of his apartment block. By the time he reaches the apartment, the lethargy has set in and he can barely reach the sofa before falling onto it, eyes closing at the feeling of soft cushions below. His phone buzzes in his pocket, hands fumbling as he blearily raises it to his eyes. 

-

Unknown Number

Hey, it’s Eddie.

Eddie Diaz. 

We just got home. 

Thank you for joining us today, I know it made Chris really happy. 

I wasn’t joking about paying for the next time. Let me know when you’re free. 

Have a good night Buck. 

-

Buck wants to reply but before he can bring himself to think of a response, his eyes are already closing, phone falling onto the carpet below. 

–

When he had originally chosen to teach elementary schoolers, Buck didn’t think there would be much preparation needed over the weekends, especially for a subject such as art. He’s sorely mistaken when he wakes on a Saturday morning to the sound of his alarm incessantly ringing from the bedroom. 

Apparently, he had managed to sleep through the whole night on the sofa and even though his brain thanks him for the rest, his back certainly doesn’t, the stress knots from teaching deepening at the uncomfortable position he’d managed to twist himself into overnight. 

Grabbing his phone from the floor, he presses the lock button only to see a blank screen and the small battery sign flashing brightly in the centre. Grunting as he lifts himself from the sofa, he pads gently across the living room floor to his bedroom, sliding the switch on the alarm to silence the loud beeps whilst plugging his phone into the charging cable hanging from the corner of the bedside table. Pulling open the drawer below to grab the painkillers prescribed by his doctor. The mornings were always the worst time for his leg, the ache creeping in, snaking around the metalwork screwed deep into the bone. 

As he waits for the phone to turn itself back on, he flops back onto the bed beneath him. The plush feeling of the orthopaedic mattress that he spent way too much of his paycheck on lulls him into a sleepy state until his phone pings awake, notifications rolling in from its time spent dead on the floor. He ignores the wave of random notifications from Twitter and Instagram, instead choosing to focus on the three text threads at the top.

–

Do Not Respond

You can’t ignore me forever Buck. I still have some things at yours. I’ll be over to get them at 3, you better be there. 

– 

Olly-pop (lollipop)

BUCK

BUCKEROO!!!!!!

Answer me right now before I fill your drawer with shaving foam on Monday

I’m serious

Buck

Are you still asleep? 

THE Evan Buckley still asleep past 7am? I knew you were fucking that dad

–

Unknown Number

Hi again.

Just wanted to make sure you were ok and safe.

It’s Eddie by the way.

Eddie Diaz, Chris’ dad. 

–

Buck huffs softly at the last message, as if he would be able to forget who Eddie Diaz was. He debates whether to answer Eddie or call Olly first, but knowing the younger truly would put shaving cream in his slippers, his fingers slide across Olly’s icon and press the call button. 

It takes less than two rings for Olly to answer.

“Buck!”

“Hi, menace. What’s up?”

“You could sound a little more excited,” Olly’s voice takes on a whining tone and Buck can already tell his mouth has dropped into a faux pout, “I have really exciting news!”

“Are you transferring schools?”

“Mean. And no, you would miss me way too much. Anyways, the news is…”

The sound of beatboxed drum rolls blasts through the speakers and Buck has to pull the phone away slightly to avoid ruining his eardrums. 

“He proposed!”

“Who?”

“Who do you think, dumbass? My boyfriend!”

“It’s only 9am, who gets engaged at 9 in the morning?”

“Damn, not even a congratulations? I woke up this morning and when I rolled over he was sitting there, all sweaty and nervous, with the ring already in his hands. He was supposed to wait until we met up with his parents but he was too anxious to wait, isn’t that right baby?”

Olly’s voice drifts away towards the end of his sentence, obnoxious kissing sounds seeping into Buck’s ear. 

“Gross. But, congratulations. I really am happy for you, Ols. I know how happy he makes you and from the sounds of it, you make him really happy too. Maybe now I’ll finally get the chance to meet him…” he trails off at the end of the sentence, hoping Olly gets the hint. 

“Ok, one sec!”

Olly hangs up briefly, Buck's now plain home screen being replaced with a facetime call from the younger a few seconds later. Steeling himself for the worst, he presses the green button and braces himself for what is probably a very happy, post-sex Olly. 

He hates being right. 

Olly’s cheeks are flushed pink, a bright smile hidden behind the hand covering 90% of the screen. The ring is nice, Buck can’t deny. It’s not flashy, just a small silver band with diamond insets, perfect for working with children who will most definitely try to get their hands on it the second he steps foot into the school on Monday. 

“Very pretty, Ols. The ring’s not half bad, too.” Buck smirks, eyeing the way the figure behind Olly tenses himself slightly. 

“Buck, don’t pseudo flirt with me after I just told you I got engaged. But thank you. I know I’m pretty. Ready to meet my fiance?”

Buck nods in lieu of answering, pushing down the hard lump settling in his throat. This could have been him. He could have been happy and engaged, flashing the ring off to all his friends and telling everyone how his fiance just couldn’t wait to propose. Instead, he got a cheating bastard of an ex and a lonely, cold apartment. 

“Buck, meet Ravi!”

The camera pulls back and Buck spots a very familiar face.

“You!”

Both Ravi and Olly jolt at the exclamation, Olly from confusion and Ravi from recognition. 

“Oh, you’re Chris’ art teacher! I remember coming to get him from you once!”

“Yeah and I remember how you winked at me on the way out. I did look out the window and see someone in the passenger seat of his car but I didn’t realise it was you, Ollypop.”

Olly side-eyes his now bashful fiance, patting his leg slightly. 

“Ravi’s very flirty I know, but trust me, he loves me too much to do anything stupid like cheat on me.”

The second that leaves his mouth, Olly’s eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes a few times, obviously flustered. 

“Buck, that’s not what I -”

“I know what you meant, Ols. Don’t worry, I know he wouldn’t because I would chop his balls off if he ever tried, you hear that, Ravi?”

A flushed, wide-eyed Ravi nods from where he’s slid behind Olly on the screen. 

“Anyway, I have to go now. I have a lot of work to do before Monday.”

Buck can feel the tears pushing at the backs of his eyes. He needs to get off this call right now. 

“Buck…”

“Olly, I’m fine. Promise. I’ll see you on Monday. And congratulations, again. I really am happy for you.”

Olly’s warm smile pushes back the oncoming tide of tears swimming in Buck’s eyes and he nods once at the younger before ending the call, flopping back onto the bed again. 

He wished someone loved him enough to not cheat on him too.

-

Buck allows himself to wallow in bed, drawing the covers up to his chin as if they could protect him from the monsters that only exist in his head. His mind unhelpfully conjures up image after image of the last few years of his life, all of them tainted crimson red by his ex-boyfriend. 

He knows Olly meant no harm. The poor man has 2 brain cells knocking around in that stupidly beautiful head of his and by the look in his eyes when he answered the facetime, Buck guesses Ravi had rendered them inactive for the next few hours. He knew there was no malice behind his words, yet why did it feel like a knife twisting in his gut, leaving him bloodied and helpless as he desperately tries to hold himself together. 

His parents. Maddie. Tommy. The one boy he had a semi-situationship with in high school before deciding any and every girl in their year was better than Buck. No one had loved him enough to stay. No one had pulled back the layers of his masquerade and not run away at the sight of the tumultuous mess laid bare. 

He knows he needs to get up and work on his projects for Monday’s class, so 30 minutes later he reluctantly throws the now warm duvet off of him, allowing the cold morning air to rush over him. He grabs his phone that he had tossed somewhere in the covers and opens the texts from Eddie, quickly changing the contact name.

-

Buck 🙂

Hi Eddie Diaz, Chris’ dad. 

I just woke up, I don’t think I realised how tired I was 😆 

I got home ok and fell asleep on my sofa

-

It takes not even 30 seconds to receive a response. 

-

Eddie 🔥

Hi Buck. 

No worries, just wanted to double check and make sure you were ok. 

Though I am sure your back isn’t thanking you for your sofa sleep. 

Buck 🙂

Oh, definitely…

Going to have to hobble into work tomorrow like the old man I really am 😞

Eddie 🔥

If you’re old, then what am I, Mr Buckley?

Buck 🙂

Ancient. 

Eddie 🔥

And to think, I was going to invite you over for dinner since Chris misses you. 

Buck 🙂

Noooo

You can’t use Chris against me that’s cruel 🥺

Eddie 🔥

So. 

You coming round?

Buck 🙂

I wasn’t joking when I said my back was aching

Don’t think I could walk around there in one piece

Eddie 🔥

We could always come to you?

If that’s alright with you of course. 

[Eddie 🔥   is typing…]

-

Buck waits for 5 minutes as that little bubble appears and disappears continuously. Settling down onto his makeshift bed from last night, he taps his finger along the side of the phone, flicking between apps as he waits for Eddie’s next text. Eventually, he gets tired of waiting and responds before the other has a chance to talk himself into a spiral. 

Buck 🙂

Levanter Building. Apartment 118. Press the buzzer and I’ll let you in 😁 

All he gets back is a thumbs up reaction to his text.

Looking around, he notices the general mess of his apartment. Based on how quick Eddie texted him last night, he guesses they only live about 20 minutes away. Knowing Chris, it will take him at least half an hour to pick out an outfit which gives him just under an hour to shower and make the apartment semi presentable for guests.

– 

Buck’s hair is still damp at the tips but he thinks he’s managed to pull this off. 

He’d already wasted a good 10 minutes standing in front of his wardrobe, scrutinising every piece of clothing he owned before eventually settling on a pair of dungarees with sunflower appliques (his personal favourite) and a plain white t-shirt to tuck underneath. He’d left one of the straps unclipped in the hopes it wouldn’t make it look like he’d tried too hard. 

It’s on his tenth visit to the mirror to check his outfit that he mentally smacks himself over the head. Who was he trying to impress? Eddie was straight. A woman liker. Had a whole ass child with a wife. Or ex-wife. Buck wasn’t too sure on what the correct term was for what Eddie and Shannon were. 

He’d heard bits and pieces from Chris about his parents. How his mother had laid him next to his sleeping dad and vanished. The same mother who reappeared years later, promising for them to be a proper family only to pass away soon after. Hit and run. That part Chris hadn’t told him, he’d been curious one night and googled Shannon Diaz.

She was gorgeous. Her obituary photo had been of her and Chris when he was just a baby. He could see the resemblance even then, they had the same button nose, nothing like Eddie’s, strong and sloped. 

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he checks his watch. Eddie and Chris should be arriving any second. 

Shoving the last of the dishes into the ridiculously small dishwasher, he manages to turn it onto a quick cycle just before the buzzer by his door rings. Quickly running over, he pulls off one of the marigolds Olly had gifted him as a housewarming present, pressing down on the intercom. 

“Hello?”

A squeal comes over the intercom, quickly followed by a voice he had to come to recognise as one of his favourites. “Mr Buck, it’s Chris!”

He grins softly even if he can’t see it and presses the button to let them in. He shoves the still wet marigolds into the cupboard next to his sink and runs a quick hand through his hair. Hopefully it looks more “artfully tousled” than “scrubbed half to death with one of his ratty towels he refuses to get rid of.” 

He opens the door just as Eddie is raising a hand to knock. “Ah, come in! Sorry if it’s a bit messy, I pretty much fell asleep the second I got to the sofa.”

Eddie waves him off, letting Chris down from his perch on his hip so he can throw himself full pelt into Buck’s legs, hands raised in the air. 

“Mr Buck! Mr Buck!”

He manages to land on one of Buck’s socked toes, but he ignores the pain in favour of reaching down to pick him up, letting him wrap his legs around his waist in a vice grip. “Want a tour of the place?”

He directs the question towards Eddie who stands almost uncomfortably just through the threshold of the door but it’s Chris who answers, wriggling in agreement and a slew of loud “ please ”’s filling the small living room. 

He nods at Eddie who shuts the door behind him and drops a picnic basket on the table. Buck eyes it but leaves it for the moment, steeling himself for the moment Chris sees the spare room he’d turned into an art studio. 

“So this is the living room slash kitchen slash dining room. You see that big painting up there,” he points out the artwork swirled with yellow and blue hanging over the television, “that's the first thing I painted when I moved in. Can you guess who it’s inspired by?” 

This time the question is directed at Chris who squints at the swirls lining the canvas for a moment before turning back to Buck. “ The painter you like. Ban Gogh!”

Chuckling at the mispronunciation, he bounces him higher up on his hip. “Van Gogh, yes. Good memory, Chris!”

Chris shines brightly at the praise, looking back at his dad to make sure he heard. Eddie’s too busy running his eyes over the artwork. “You painted that?”

Buck turns to face him fully. “Well, I am an art teacher. Which basically means I was a struggling wannabe artist who needed to eat. And luckily, I enjoy working with kids.”

Eddie blanches at the response. Buck can see he’s worried that he’s offended him. 

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’ve just never seen any of your work before and it’s… really good.”

This time it’s Buck who glows from the praise, cheeks taking on a rose hue as Eddie smiles kindly at him. Would it be weird if he committed this moment to memory and used it for character sketches? He couldn’t deny that Eddie would make a very good model, all sweeping cheekbones and soft, naturally pouty lips. 

“Thank you.” He coughs slightly, turning back towards the small hallway just past the sofa he’d febreezed just before he’d got into the shower. 

“And down here is my art studio.” He eyes Chris waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t disappoint, gasping as he looks up at Buck and then the yellow door, eyes wide and very much reminiscent of the man following them a few paces behind. 

He opens the door and lets Chris down from his hip, allowing him to wander around the room. There’s paint everywhere. Up the walls, on every surface, even stuck to the light fixture. He wishes he has an explanation but honestly, he has absolutely no idea how it got up there. He’s just lucky the landlord doesn’t mind what he does as long as it looks presentable when he comes to move out. 

“Mr Buck, are these your paintings?” Chris’ stood by a thick stack of canvases, a thin layer of dust beginning to form along the top. 

He grimaces as each canvas edge he sees conjures up an old memory of a past he’d rather forget. At the beginning of the relationship, his ex had loved his creativity, had begged him to paint canvases to decorate the home they would eventually buy together. So he had. Every anniversary, every birthday and every Christmas, he gifted his ex something homemade, having spent many late nights after work perfecting each brush stroke. 

“They are, bud. Do you want to look at them?”

Just because the sight of them brought bile to the back of his throat doesn’t mean he’ll stop Chris from exploring. He was always one of the only kids to compliment his version of whatever they were painting at school, he could do this for him. 

He pulls the first one off the top and Buck regrets his choice. A slightly wonky rendition of a photograph he had taken with his ex at Santa Monica Pier stares back at them. He’d painted it after the break up. As much as he wanted to hate his ex in that moment, his heart took over and a few hours later he found himself smoothing a paintbrush around the curved cheek of the man he thought he’d spend forever with. 

“Is that your boyfriend, Mr Buck? He looks like human Shrek. Doesn’t he, daddy?”

God bless childhood ignorance. He couldn’t see the smudges over his ex’s eyebrow where he’d hunched over crying as he waited for it to dry. Or the slight tear in the lapel of his suit where he’d pressed so hard with the paintbrush, it had burst through the other side. 

Buck resolutely ignores the stifled chuckle coming from behind him as Eddie shushes his son. 

“He’s my ex boyfriend now, Chris. Remember, I told you at school we were now just good friends?”

He hums in response, turning back to look at the physical proof of Buck’s grief. Buck chances a glance back at Eddie, his usual warm eyes now staring directly into Buck’s. He could tell the other didn’t believe him but that was a story to be told over copious amounts of alcohol.  

He and Eddie enter some form of stare off, both trying to read the other person. It’s only broken when Chris huffs and tugs on the loose strap of Buck’s dungarees. “I’m hungry.”

He breaks eye contact with Eddie, reaching down to grab Chris’ hand, dramatics turned up to mask the vulnerability he had let Eddie see. “Forgive me, Master Chris. I have let you down! We must feast at once!”

He giggles as Buck kneels before him, head bowed. Tugging his hand, Chris leads him back to his kitchenette like it was his own house. Eddie follows behind again, eyes still searching Buck like he’s trying to find the last piece of the puzzle. Buck ignores it, in fear that one more look into those brown eyes would crumble every last defence he had built around himself. 

“I see your dad packed us a few bits. Do you want to sit and have a floor picnic?”

It was something he liked to do with the kids when he brought them treats. He’d bought special pillows for them all to sit on but the sofa cushions will suffice for now. 

Chris grapples for the picnic basket on the counter. He’s about to step in and reach for it when a hand comes from behind him and grasps the handle. He’d been too focused on Chris to notice his dad sneaking up behind them. He can feel the warmth of Eddie against his back. The planes of his chest pressed against him as he reaches around Buck to pass it down to Chris. 

Buck wills the blush down on his cheeks before joining Chris in the middle of the carpet. Eddie joins them again, sitting across from Buck. At least he’s no longer staring at Buck like he’s some kind of unknown foreign language, instead indulging Chris in pulling everything out of the basket. Various packages wrapped in clingfilm and tin foil come piling out. There’s enough to feed a large family and Buck hopes he’ll offer to leave the rest here so he can skimp out on getting groceries this month. 

Eddie hands him a clingfilmed bread roll. He looks inside. Peanut butter and jelly. His favourite. 

“I asked Chris what you liked. Just glad it wasn’t something ridiculously expensive like lobster or caviar.” Eddie chuckles almost awkwardly. 

“Teacher’s salary,” Buck unwraps the first half, the smell of peanuts wafting into the air, “can’t afford to like the expensive stuff, Eds.”

The nickname slips out before he can stop it. Eddie doesn’t look affronted though, he just smiles warmly as Buck pops the first bit of roll into his mouth. 

–

Chris had apparently worn himself out after popping piece after piece of candy as he talked a hundred miles a minute. He’d had a very brief sugar rush and then crashed, sprawled across the sofa under a blanket Buck’s sister had knitted for him one Christmas. His neck was tilted at an awkward angle and Buck knew he’d wake up complaining. 

“Mind if I pop him in my room? I just think he’d be more comfortable there.”

Eddie nods, eyeing the one leg hanging off the sofa's edge. “I’m pretty sure he could sleep on a bed of nails and still be comfy but if it makes you feel better, sure.”

He bundles Chris up softly, keeping the blanket around him to keep all his limbs in place. A little Chris roll. 

Laughing at himself, Buck quietly walks through to his room, laying Chris down on top of the duvet. He didn’t want him to get too hot under the down quilt he’d bought as he was cursed with permanently cold extremities.

He leaves, shutting the door softly. He can hear Eddie talking in the living room, assuming he was on the phone. When he walks out from the hallway, he’s confronted by something he could only consider a nightmare. 

Eddie’s blocking the doorway, preventing an agitated Tommy from crossing the threshold. 

“Listen mate, we’ve only been broken up like 4 months. He’s got my shit in there. I just want it back and to talk to him. This whole thing was a mistake, we’ll be back together soon, so how about you just fuck off and let me in.”

Buck used to love that voice, had spent hours relistening to old voicemails just to see if he could catch a note he hadn’t yet heard him use. But now it’s just like nails on a chalkboard. Sharp, scratchy and leaving a nasty ringing in his ears. 

“Tommy? What are you doing here?”

His voice is croaky, weak with 4 months of grief bleeding through. Both men’s heads snap towards him. 

“Evan. This joker wouldn’t let me in. I texted you to say I was coming over. I was hoping we could talk. I brought your favourite.”

He raises a bag of takeout, handle hanging off his pointer finger. Buck could already smell the seafood bisque inside. That was Tommy’s favourite, not Buck’s. Buck hates seafood. He only ate it because Tommy never asked what he wanted before ordering. 

“I never said you could come over though. You can’t just show up unannounced anymore.”

Tommy scoffs, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Unannounced? This is technically still my flat, remember?”

Through the haze of grief, Buck has at least had the common sense to go to his landlord and let him know Tommy would no longer be living there. He didn’t know what it meant at the time when Mr Seo had patted him on the back and congratulated him. 

“Not anymore. It wasn’t like you ever paid rent anyway.”

Despite working a rather sensible, well paid job, his ex had always made excuses. Promising that he was saving half his salary each month for a deposit on a new house for them. Turns out most of his salary was going out to “gentleman” clubs most nights when he said he was working late which eventually turned into “work trips”, code for holidays with the man he said was a friend. 

Eddie stifles a laugh, angering Tommy even more. 

“Not being funny mate, but who even are you? I know all of Evan’s friends, and you definitely aren’t one of them.”

Before Buck can try and diffuse the situation, Eddie throws a lit match into the pile of dynamite that is his ex boyfriend. 

“I’m his boyfriend. We’re in the middle of a date which you are very rudely interrupting. You want your stuff? Tell me your address and I’ll have it sent across. As for talking, I don’t think you deserve a second of Buck’s time.”

Boyfriend. 

Very much straight Eddie had just called himself Buck’s boyfriend. A man he met less than a week ago was coming to defend his honour. He felt like opening the fan from Pride and sitting on the sofa to fan himself, fulfilling the damsel in distress role he’d somehow found himself thrust into. 

He can almost feel the steam coming from Tommy’s ears. He’s looking at Buck now, eyes narrowed, anger pouring from them. 

“Wow, you moved on quick, huh? Never thought you’d be a slut who’d spread his legs for anyone.”

Buck gets it now. Gets why his landlord congratulated him. Gets why his friends had sent him champagne instead of flowers. 

Tommy was an asshole. 

He’d sort of known that already. From the perspective of him being a cheating bastard. But it’s as if someone has torn the rose tinted glasses straight off his face and he’s finally seeing Tommy in the true light. 

“At least I waited until we broke up to move on.”

It’s meant to be a low blow, a sucker punch right to Tommy’s chin. But it boomerangs back, landing deep in Buck’s gut. A reminder that he wasn’t enough. 

He almost lets it fester there, rotting deep in his core until he glances over at Eddie. Eddie who's looking at him like he’s finally found the missing piece of that puzzle. Eddie with his big eyes full of mirth, twinkling softly under the fluorescent lights. 

He yanks the hole in his gut closed, lets it be sewn shut in the same line as Eddie’s smirk and sidles up next to him. Luckily, Eddie catches on instantly, hand coming to wrap around his waist. It’s warm, kind of like a familiar weight, as if it had always been there. 

“If the missed calls and ignored texts weren’t a big enough hint, I don’t want you anymore. I don’t love you anymore. I’ve moved on. And thank god I did, because I’d hate to have to spend one more minute of mediocre sex with a man whose dick is the size of the shrimp in that bag. Now if you’ll excuse me, we’re gonna finish our date and then I’m gonna ride my boyfriend until he cries. Or vice versa. Goodbye Tommy.”

He barely gets the last word out before the door slams shut in his ex’s face. He wishes he had taken a picture of his expression. He could repurpose that old canvas into something actually good.

He then wishes he had thought about what he was saying before word vomiting. Eddie is still holding his waist, grip slightly tighter than before. When Buck turns to look at him, he’s still smiling. But there’s something in his eyes that Buck can no longer place. 

He curls in on himself slightly, embarrassed that the heterosexual dad of one of his students had just heard him say he was going to, hypothetically, ride him. “Sorry, that was too much.”

He goes to step out of Eddie’s grip when he hears Eddie murmur beside him. Cocking his head to the side, he takes note of the blush rising up the sides of Eddie’s neck. “What was that?”

Eddie chuckles before squeezing his waist once, dropping his hand back to his side. “I said, I wouldn’t mind.”

Buck feels like a record scratch just ran down his entire spine. Did very straight, just broke up with his girlfriend, Eddie just insinuate that he wants Buck to ride him? He blinks in response, watching Eddie as he flops back onto the sofa across the room. The little shit just smiles back at him in response, hand patting the seat next to him. 

Buck moves on autopilot, feet taking him to sit gingerly beside the other. If Eddie had patted his lap, Buck has no doubt he would have sat there too. 

He doesn’t know what to say. Does he bring it up? Does he pretend Eddie was still faking being his boyfriend? He’s beginning to spiral, mind running at a hundred miles an hour. Given that it’s Buck’s, he wouldn’t be surprised if it tripped and skinned its knee. 

“I take it you guys aren’t good friends then?”

He almost forgot Eddie was sitting beside him, his voice jolting him from whatever labyrinth he would have wound up in. 

“No, not good friends. But I think it’s unethical to tell a bunch of 7 year olds that Mr Buck’s boyfriend is a dirty, rotten cheater with a penchant for redheads.” 

Eddie’s laugh is warm. Light and soft, vignetted around the edges. It lights a fire in Buck’s gut, cauterising the self-inflicted wound he’d left there. 

“God bless childhood ignorance.”

Buck hums, allowing himself to melt into the cushions below. 

–

Chris had woken up not too long after that, eyes bleary and arms reaching up as he stumbled out of the bedroom. Eddie goes to pick him up but he grunts, pushing past him to clamber onto Buck. 

“Mr Buck, I don’t wanna go home.”

He feels a piece of his heart break off, slither out from between his ribs and leap onto Chris. He’d always been his favourite even before they hung out outside of school. 

“It’s ok, bud. One more day and then we’ll see each other at school. Shh, don’t tell the others but we’re doing finger paintings.” Buck makes a note to send out a bulletin to the other parents to remind them to pack spare clothes for Monday. The little rascals love to smear their paint covered hands over any and everything. 

Chris nods in response, still drowsy from his sugar crash nap. With his warmth blanketing him, Buck too could have slipped into a badly timed nap. 

Eddie manages to wrangle everything up, leaving the food on the side for Buck to put in the fridge. He dashes around, putting everything back to what it was when he found it, fluffing the sofa pillows and righting the blanket Chris had strewn across the other cushion when he’d come through. Buck could quite frankly kiss him. 

Chris leaves with a soft pout and a pinky promise to see Buck out of school sometime next week. Eddie grabs the hand Chris had pinky promised with, stopping at the door threshold. “I enjoyed today, Buck. I know Chris did too. Thanks for letting us come round. And, uh, if you-know-who comes back, let me know. I only live around the corner.”

Buck smiles softly, leaning against the door. “I will do. Thanks for coming, Eddie. It was nice to have some company.”

–

The following week came and went uneventfully. Eddie had been pulled in for multiple 24 hour shifts, Chris back to being picked up by one of the team or by his grandma. Isabel, or Abuela as she often reminded Buck to call her by, was a sweet woman, often exchanging her grandson for tupperware filled with snacks for Buck, his favourite being Pan Dulce. 

She’d chuckled and ruffled the curls on top of his head, the same way he’d watched her do to Chris, when he’d taken his first bite, eyes widening in joy as the sweetness of the bread danced across his tongue. 

Eddie had kept him up to date with daily texts, sometimes sending pictures of his day to day life. An action shot of Bobby swatting at him with a tea towel to get him out of the kitchen, Chim and a woman Buck had come to know as Hen pulling silly faces at the camera; a blurry Eddie in the background reaching for the phone. His favourite was, to everyone else, a normal photo. Just Eddie smiling at the camera, hand half in the screen in a thumbs up pose as Ravi and Albert flip off the screen in the background. 

But as Buck traced the curves of Eddie’s smile from the confines of his bed that night, he couldn’t help but add the picture to his camera roll, cheeks warm despite the chill in the air. 

On Friday, as the kids play around outside for lunch, Buck’s phone buzzes on his desk. He’s not proud of how quickly he’d gone to pick it up, hand dropping the fork full of elotes; another gift from Abuela, in mid air. 

-

Eddie 🔥

Hey Buck.

I’m so sorry to ask this, but would you be able to look after Chris for a few hours tonight?

Abuela is back in El Paso visiting my sisters.

Everyone is here on overtime, there was a big accident. 

I don’t have anyone else to look after him and I don’t know who else to turn to. 

Again, I’m so sorry. 

Buck 🙂

Hey Eddie!

Not sure why you’re sorry, I would love to have Chris over at mine 😁

Do you know roughly how long?

Just so I know if we need to stop for groceries on the way home 🥖 

Eddie 🔥

Are you sure? 

We’re gonna be here til 7 or 8 at the latest. 

And don’t worry about groceries, get takeout and I’ll send you the money for it. 

Buck 🙂

Don’t be silly, of course I’m sure! 

Just make sure to let the school know so they don’t think I’m stealing a child 🤣

I love having Chris around! 

Don’t you know? It’s the only reason I put up with you 😉

Eddie 🔥

Oh ha ha

Very funny Buck.

But thank you. 

Genuinely.

I owe you big time. 

Buck 🙂

There’s nothing to owe, Eddie. 

It would be nice to have some company for a change ☺️

-

Buck waits until the end of the day before calling Chris over, watching him fondly as he high fives Johnny as the other kid heads out the door. 

“Hey, Mr Buck!”

Buck crouches down, one hand resting on Chris’ shoulder gently. “Hey, bud. Your dad texted me, he’s gonna be a bit late tonight so he asked if it was ok for you to come home with me for a few hours. Is that alright?”

He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face as Chris’ eyes brighten, matching grin scrunching up already chubby cheeks. “Really?! I get to go to Mr Buck’s house?”

“Sure do, bud! Here, let me call your dad so you can ask him yourself.” Despite knowing both Eddie and Chris were on board with the idea, he still wanted them to talk. Too many child safety training sessions had left him a bit more paranoid when it came to this sort of thing. 

Eddie picks up on the third ring. “Hey, Buck. Everything ok?”

It’s loud where he is, sirens wailing in the background. “Eddie, are you- are you there now?”

He avoids mentioning the accident, he’s not sure how much Chris truly knows about his dad’s job outside of riding around in cool trucks and sliding down poles. 

“Sure am.” Eddie’s cut off briefly, the sound of orders being called out behind him. Buck only just makes out the words “black tag”. He shudders as he remembers his fire academy training. Black tag. Someone didn’t make it. 

“Um, Chris just wanted to double check that he was definitely coming home with me.”

“Chris did? Or you did?” 

Buck hates how he can almost hear the smirk on that stupidly gorgeous face. “Ok, ok. I did. Listen, if you had to sit through a 4 hour training session on child safety, you’d want to double check too.”

Eddie chuckles, grunting as he continues on with whatever he was doing before Buck called. “Put Chris on.”

Buck hands the phone down to Chris, who smiles brightly up at him, before launching into a spiel at his dad about his day. He’s about to gently persuade Chris to ask the question, well aware of how busy Eddie must be, but Eddie must reply to some part of Chris’ speech, the younger answering enthusiastically. 

Buck admires that about Eddie. Despite only meeting him a few times, he can see how much Chris means to him. No matter what was happening at that moment, he always had time for his boy. 

Buck thinks back to his own childhood. He may have had two parents physically present growing up but that doesn’t mean they were there mentally. The only time they acknowledged Buck was to point out his flaws, sharp tongued words thrown his way as they broke down every part of him into tiny, jagged pieces. 

Maddie had essentially raised him, forced to grow up long before she was supposed to. 

Eddie was much like her in a way. When Buck went on one of his deep dives, she would always be by his side, lending an eager ear to any fun facts Buck had stored deep. 

He misses her. Misses the bond they had. Before they grew up. Before fucking Doug came into the picture. Before she turned her back on Buck too, replacing him with someone else. A common theme for his loved ones apparently. 

He’s jealous of Chris in that sense, and it makes his stomach tie itself in knots. He’s jealous of a kid who’s dad could walk into a burning building and never come out, of a kid who got his mother back only to be attending her funeral months later. 

Flashing back to the present, he hears the end of Chris and Eddie’s conversation, a happy “ love you too Daddy! ” before the phone is thrust back into his face. He takes it gingerly, holding it up to his ear. 

“Hey.”

More shouts in the background before Eddie’s voice calls through. “Hey Buck. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Oh, and don’t feed him too many E numbers, I wanna pass the fuck out the second we get home.”

Buck hums in response, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up. Looking back down at the boy resting his head gently against Buck’s thigh, he can’t resist carding his own hand through Chris’ curls, heart clenching at the beaming smile he gets in response. 

“Let’s get going, bud.”

–

Chris was a whirlwind. Never one to let his crutches stop him, only an hour had passed since they got back to Buck’s apartment and he was ready to follow Eddie’s lead and curl up in bed. They had finished all of Chris’ homework, Buck nearly brought to tears as he stared down at the equations before him. 

When the fuck did math get so difficult? 

As soon as the last sum was written down, Chris had immediately pulled Buck along to his art room, where the two of them sat currently, Chris humming as he tried to paint inside the lines. Buck had quickly changed into his comfy clothes, grabbed a sketch pad and some charcoal, subconsciously sketching away as he watched Chris splatter red paint all over the table. 

Looking down at what he expects to be a scribble, he’s surprised to see familiar doe eyes staring back at him. Slamming the sketch pad closed, he shoves it away from him as if it had scorched his skin. 

He really needed to pull himself together. Fawning over a straight man was one thing. Fawning over a straight man who just so happened to be the father of one of his students was a step too far. 

Eyes flitting over to the clock on the wall, he’s surprised to see it’s already 7 o’clock. 

Turning back to the boy still dragging the paint brush carefully along pencilled lines, he drums his fingers on the desk. “Hey, Chris. You hungry?”

Chris looks up at him, eyes wide as he takes a moment to think. The paintbrush in his hand plops down on the desk, a large splodge of red spreading across graphite. “Very. Is dad coming soon?”

Buck huffs, tapping his phone screen. The blank screen stares back at him mockingly. 

“I dunno, bud. Pizza sound good to you?”

The two of them share a grin as he unlocks his phone, pulling up the menu for the pizzeria down the road. 

–

Chris was trying his best to stay awake. With a tummy full of pizza and Spongebob playing in the background, Buck watches fondly as the boy's eyes droop slowly before widening, vision unfocused on the cartoon in front of him. 

Flicking his wrist over, he checks his watch for the fourth time that hour. It’s not that he didn’t love having Chris over, he hadn’t had this much fun in months, but when the numbers 21:58 flash across his watch screen, he can't help but worry about Eddie. 

What if something had happened to him? The accident sounded bad, Buck could make out at least four separate fire truck sirens in the back of the earlier phone call and Eddie hadn’t responded to the selfie Buck had sent earlier of him and Chris stuffing their faces with meat feast pizza. 

Eyes flitting back to the now sleeping boy, Buck unlocks his phone once more. 

Eddie answers on the fifth ring this time. “Buck?”

Buck tries to speak but the words won’t come out. Eddie sounds exhausted, his name coming out more as a sound than an actual word. 

“Um, hey Eddie. Sorry to call you but I just wanted to check up. It’s nearly ten. Chris is kinda falling asleep here.”

Eddie sighs, the noise soaked around the edges in fatigue. “I’m so sorry, Buck. We’re still on site.”

Buck can’t hear sirens in the background anymore. They must still be wrapping up. “No need to apologise, I don’t mind having him. I just wanted to make sure you’re safe, y’know? I was a little worried.”

His voice is too soft, too caring. It reverberates around his skull, shapes itself into the charcoal black outlines of doe eyes in his sketchpad. 

Silence is the only response he gets for a moment. Then Eddie responds, voice thick. “Oh, um, thanks. No one’s been worried about me in a long time. I’m ok, we’re just packing up all the gear. I’ll be there in about 30 minutes.”

Buck hums, eyes trained on Chris as he slowly slumps into the sofa. “Ok, Eds.” He doesn’t even flinch as the nickname slips past his lips this time. “Drive safe, I’ll let Chris have a little nap while we wait.”

“Thanks, Buck. Truly. For all of this. I’m sorry for blindsiding you with my kid but he loves you, so much. I knew I could trust him with you.”

Buck’s eyes widen as a red hot blush settles on his cheeks, burning down his neck. 

It’s one thing for the parents of the kids he teaches to thank him for helping with their homework, or framing their artwork to bring home. But for one to trust him enough to look after his kid after that final bell rang? That was truly special in his eyes. 

–

True to his word, Eddie knocks on Buck’s front door 30 minutes later, the rapping of his knuckles was weak but Buck had since muted the tv, leaving it on for the faint glow it emitted across the living room. 

Chris had managed to shuffle around in his sleep, his head resting lightly against the edge of Buck’s thigh. Buck grabs the throw pillow next to him and slowly moves to stand, leaving the pillow in his wake. 

Opening the door, he fights back a gasp. Eddie looks terrible. Ok, maybe not terrible. Buck doubts Eddie could ever look anything other than gorgeous. But he’s tired, the bone deep chill of exhaustion evident in the bags forming under his eyes and the way his lips unconsciously pull down in a pout. 

He smiles tiredly at Buck, shuffling through the threshold of the door. Buck closes it gently behind him, eyes following the man as he makes his way to the living room. 

Eddie leans against the wall, gaze locked on his sleeping son. Buck leans against the opposite wall, gaze locked on Eddie. 

There’s no way he was letting Eddie drive home in this condition. Making a mental note of how messy his bedroom might be, he slowly walks up until his chest is mere inches from Eddie’s back, hand reaching out to rest softly on his shoulder. 

His heart thumps harshly in his chest as Eddie tilts his head to rest his cheek against the comforting grip for a moment.

“Eds?”

The only response he gets is a noncommittal hum. 

“Stay here for the night. You can barely stand up straight, I can’t let you drive like this. You and Chris can take my bed, I’ll take the sofa.”

This gets Eddie’s attention, his head slowly turning to look at Buck. They’re half closed like he doesn’t even have the strength to look properly. 

“It’s ok, you’ve already done more than enough for me, Buck.”

Buck strokes his thumb across the back of Eddie’s shoulder blade, relishing in the way it makes the man shiver slightly. “Don’t be silly. This isn’t for you, I just wanna have more time with Chris.”

Eddie throws him a playful glare, hand reaching back to swat at Buck’s thigh. 

Buck takes the silence as acceptance, tightening his grip slightly to guide Eddie towards his bedroom. It’s only when they get to the door that his throat begins to dry up. What if he’d forgotten to throw last night's clothes in the hamper after his shower? What if Buck’s late night granola bar snack left crumbs in the bed and Eddie thinks he’s a huge slob?

Before he can spiral more, Eddie lets himself into the bedroom, feet dragging towards the plush bed. He flops down heavily, groaning as the ridiculously expensive mattress moulds to his shape.

Buck can almost taste the relief flowing through Eddie’s muscles right now. 

“I’m just,” he points behind him, even though Eddie is face down on the bed, “gonna go grab Chris.”

Turning his back, he pauses at Eddie’s responding groan. “Don’t wake him. He may sleep like the dead but once he’s up, it’ll be hell to get him back down.”

Buck looks between the open door and the man sprawled across his mattress. Back and forth, back and forth until his vision gets a little blurry. “But, I don’t wanna leave him out there on his own.”

Eddie flops over onto his back, one eye opening to stare down Buck. “He’ll be fine. I promise. He often sleeps on the couch at home after movie nights.”

Buck swallows, nodding his head in acquiescence even though his feet still move to the room's threshold. “Ok, I’ll just go get the air mattress out. Bathrooms the door opposite to here, and you already know where the kitchen is. Night, Eds.”

“Where are you going?”

Buck blinks, wondering if overtiredness can make a person go deaf because he’s pretty sure he just told Eddie exactly where he was going. 

“I’m… I’m going to sleep?”

“Just,” Eddie drags himself up, pulling back the duvet and crawling underneath. 

Buck watches as he shuffles his way across to the other side. He’s not sure how Eddie knew which side was unofficially Buck’s but the swallow he gulps down is audible in the air. 

“Buck.” 

Buck’s eyes drag up from the way Eddie had wrapped himself up in the duvet, flinching when he catches Eddie’s expectant stare. 

“Buck, just get in.”

Anyone would think this was Eddie’s house, Eddie’s room, Eddie’s bed with the way Buck gingerly slid onto the mattress, half his ass hanging off the edge as he moved at a snail's pace. 

He assumes Eddie’s passed out at this point, having rolled over onto his stomach and shoved his face into the pillow below. He has half a mind to reach out and rest his hand over Eddie’s back, wait for the rise and fall to make sure he was still breathing. 

As he shuffles around, trying to rest his weight a little more on the bed so he doesn’t risk falling off in the night when the hand Eddie had stuffed under the pillow darts out, wrapping tight around Buck’s waist as he yanks him fully onto the mattress.

Buck’s not proud of the yelp that fell from his lips, cheeks rosy at how easily Eddie had been able to manhandle him across. 

“Go to sleep, Buck. I can hear you overthinking from here.”

The warmth from Eddie’s hand still resting on his stomach spreads throughout him, from the tips of his fingers all the way down to his toes. Chancing a glance at Eddie’s peaceful expression, illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the curtains, Buck takes a moment before joining Eddie and drifting off to sleep. 

–

He thought it would have been more awkward, waking up to a man in his bed. 

Sure, he’d done it before. Buck 1.0 was a menace with a strong quiff and a smooth charm. He’d often wake up to men or women half sneaking out of his room, stubbing their toes in the darkness and cursing as they quickly checked behind them to make sure he hadn’t woken up. 

He used to hate it. The feeling that they’d gotten what they wanted and discarded him as soon as possible. After the 10th or 11th time it happened, Buck started leaving the light on in the hallway, settling back down to slip away to the land of dreams as clothing rustled from somewhere in his room. 

This morning was different. His alarm startled him awake, his hand reaching out to smack it once, twice before it finally silenced. 

It was warm. So warm. 

Glancing down, he takes in the arm wrapped tight around his waist, the fingers digging into the flesh of his stomach slightly. The curves of Eddie’s front moulded to his back as one of his legs had found itself between Buck’s at some point in the night. 

Eddie’s breath is hot as it fans across the back of Buck’s neck, a shudder suppressed as it tickles along his neck.  

Buck wonders what they would look like to an outsider. An omnipresent force looming above, trained on the way Eddie’s nose pressed against the bottom of Buck’s hairline. 

Glancing at the alarm clock, he groans as the number flips over and 6:00 marks the beginning of his morning. 

Slowly, he reaches down and unlatches Eddie’s hand from around his waist, tracing the white marks left in place of his fingertips. He slides out of bed, forcing himself not to look back at the man still fast asleep in his bed for fear he’d call in sick, cuddle back in and let Eddie’s presence lull him back to sleep. 

To his surprise, Chris is awake. He’d managed to turn the TV on, Spongebob playing quietly in the quiet morning air. When he spots Buck emerging from the hallway, he throws him a beaming smile, hands reaching out to him. 

Buck can’t resist, shuffling over to hoist Chris into his arms, enjoying the warmth of his sleep soaked body. 

“Morning Mr Buck.” Chris’ voice is quiet, and Buck gets the feeling Chris knows his dad is asleep in the next room. 

“Morning, bud. How did you sleep? I hope it wasn’t too scary waking up here instead of your bed.”

Chris shakes his head, burying it into the juncture of Buck’s neck and shoulder. “I slept good. It wasn’t scary at all, the house smells like you so I knew I was safe.”

Buck chokes down the tears building quickly in his eyes. Tightening his grip on Chris, he rocks the two of them back and forth, humming softly under his breath. 

He turns to go to the kitchen, planning to whip up something quick for Chris. He startles as he meets Eddie’s eyes, his body mirroring last night as it rests against the living room wall. His eyes are warm, molten chocolate as he lets his gaze roam over the sight of Buck and Chris cuddling. 

“Chris, you wanna say hi to your dad?”

Chris barely moves from his spot against Buck’s neck, twisting his head to look at Eddie. “Morning, Daddy.”

Eddie smiles softly, moving over to press a gentle kiss to Chris’ forehead. “Morning, mijo. I hate to break up cuddle time, but we gotta go home and get you ready for school.”

Chris whines, reaching out his hand to push Eddie away slightly. “But Mr Buck.”

Buck huffs out a laugh, rubbing his hand up and down Chris’ back softly. “You’ll see me in a couple of hours, bud. You don’t wanna be stinky at school, do you?” His hand moves to tickle the boy’s waist teasingly. 

Chris grumbles in response, wriggling in Buck’s hold. “No…”

It only takes a promise for Buck to come and hang out with Chris and Eddie at their house soon before Chris is letting his dad hoist him onto his hip. Buck flits around, gathering all of Chris’ things. 

As they stand at the front door, Eddie turns to look back at Buck. “Thanks. Again. For looking after Chris. And for letting me crash.”

Twirling his hands around one another behind his back, Buck’s about two seconds away from kicking his foot gently and letting out an ‘aw, shucks.’ “You’re always welcome here. Well, only if Chris comes too.”

Eddie levels him with another playful glare. 

“Joking,” Buck raises his hands in mock defence. “Chris, I’ll see you soon, and get some rest, Eds. You must be exhausted.”

“I don’t know, I slept pretty well last night.”

His knowing smirk leaves Buck swallowing harshly, cheeks warm as he thinks back to the way they were intertwined. 

Pushing a still smirking Eddie and a waving Chris out the door, he leans back against it once it’s closed. 

“What the fuck?” 

–

After that night, it was like things had shifted. 

Normal work selfies turned into full body gym photos, Buck wide eyed and scrambling to lock his phone as he catches a glimpse of abs underneath a sweaty grey LAFD shirt. 

A one off night at Buck’s turned into a weekly event, his wallet took a hit at the amount of snacks he would end up toppling into his cart each week but it was so worth it to see the way Chris’ face lit up as Buck revealed a kitchen counter full of puppy chow ingredients and a small apron that had “Head Chef” plastered across the front. 

Whenever he could, Eddie would find a way to touch Buck. Whether it would be a hand resting against his neck, massaging gently as Chris nestled between them while Moana played on the TV. A knee pressed strongly against Buck’s as he wiped chocolate ice cream from Chris’ grinning face. Hands against his hips as Eddie squeezed past him in the kitchen, strong and warm and pushing Buck slightly against the counter. 

Once Buck had managed to miss his mouth mid ice cream hang out, and Eddie had leant over the table, napkin wiping away the mess gently. Buck watched as his eyes trailed the same path of the napkin, lingering on the swell of his lower lip. The moment passed quickly, Chris passing a small spoonful of chocolate ice cream over to his dad who looked away abashedly, accepting the sweet treat. 

It was driving Buck insane. 

Everytime he left the duo, it was as if his brain was on overdrive. Analysing every moment, every smile thrown his way, every casual touch, every time his skin burned as Eddie’s gaze washed over him. 

He didn’t know who to talk to about this, who could help him unravel his jumbled thoughts and help him try to understand just who Eddie Diaz was and what he wanted with Buck. 

He couldn’t turn to Olly. Not only was he in the sickening honeymoon phase with Ravi, but he would know immediately who Buck was talking about. And god forbid he told Ravi, who would tell Albert, who would tell Howie, who would tell Hen, who would accidentally let it slip to Eddie and before he knew it, Eddie would know about his big, fat crush on him. 

That’s all it was though. 

A crush. 

Eddie was still recovering from becoming a single father, Eddie was a busy working man, Eddie was straight (maybe).

Buck wasn’t foolish enough to let himself fall deeper for someone so unattainable. 

–

Buck was a fool. 

All it took was Eddie’s fingers trailing along his neck, carding through his hair gently to pull his head down onto his shoulder. 

Buck hadn’t realised he’d been slowly falling asleep during their weekly movie nights, Chris already passed out, sprawled across both of them. 

Eddie had kept his hand wrapped in his curls, petting gently as he chuckled softly at something in the movie. Buck couldn’t tell you what they were even watching anymore. 

All he could focus on was the warmth of Eddie’s shoulder against his cheek, the soft fabric of his t-shirt a siren's call to a sleepy Buck. The way he would twirl a curl around his fingers, pulling only slightly in a way that had heat spread warm and wild in Buck’s gut. The slow movement of his hand trailing down to rest against his neck, fingers tapping out a beat against Buck’s pulse point. 

When Eddie glanced down at a pretend sleeping Buck and huffed gently, tilting his head to rest against the soft curls, Buck finally admitted what he had always known deep down. 

He was in love with Eddie Diaz. 

–

Buck can tell it’s not time to wake up yet, it’s still dark outside. It may be December and the nights are getting longer, but the pitch black of his surroundings are a tell-tale sign that he should have a few more hours before he has to stumble out of bed. 

He’s not sure what woke him, normally he sleeps like the dead. One time, his sister had to grab a jug of freezing cold water and throw it over him so he didn’t miss his finals. He chuckles at the memory. 

Just before he can settle back down, he smells it. 

Smoke. 

And then, it’s all he can smell. Thick, acrid, cloying in his lungs and burning his eyes. It’s all around him, all encompassing and when Buck fully opens his eyes, he realises it’s not dark outside. Just dark within. 

Thick plumes of grey smoke billow through the room, suffocating him as he scrambles to get out of bed. Reaching his bedroom door, he gingerly and briefly touches the door handle, relieved to find it room temperature. At least the fire isn’t too close. 

Fire. 

Oh god, his apartment building was on fire. 

Running to the wardrobe, he pulls down as many towels as he can find, thanking himself for always bringing a big bottle of water to bed before dousing the towels in the liquid. He’d watched so many people do this on those firefighter shows he let play in the background some nights when Tiktok had drawn him in, like dancing fruit to a baby. 

Shoving the soaked towels below his door, he clambers back to his bed, yanking the charging cord from his phone and dialling in 3 little numbers. 

“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” The voice is calm, collected. Everything Buck wasn’t at this moment. 

He goes to speak, choking around the smoke settling heavy in his throat. “H-hi, my name’s Evan Buckley. I live at 118 Levanter building on 5th street and my apartment building is currently on fire.”

“Hello, Evan. My name is Josh, I’m going to help you through this. Can you see any flames around you?”

Buck’s eyes are wild as they dart around the room, looking for any sign of light in the dark. He fumbles back to the doorknob, still the same as before.

“No, no flames. I’m in my bedroom, the door knob isn’t hot. There’s so much smoke though, I put wet towels at the bottom of the door, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?”

“It is, Evan. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a seasoned firefighter yourself.” 

In any other situation, Buck would brush the compliment off, bashful at best. But right now, where it matters most, it instils confidence in him. A drive to survive, to fight to live. 

“Nothing like that, no. I’m just an art teacher. I tried for the firefighters when I was younger, but it didn’t work out.”

Josh hums down the line and Buck can hear the sound of a keyboard clacking on the other side. 

“Hey, Evan -”

His mouth opens before his brain has a chance to catch up. “Buck.”

“What?”

“Sorry, everyone calls me Buck. Evan just doesn’t… suit me.”

Evan was the person who couldn’t save his brother. Evan was the person who cowered beneath disparaging looks from his parents. Evan was the person who believed his sister when she said she would never leave. 

Josh hums down the line, keyboard still clicking away in the background. “OK, Buck. I’m trying to find your address on the map but it’s not flagging. You said 5th street, right?”

“Yes, 5th street. Opposite Skulls and Blooms, the tattoo shop slash flower shop. We live tucked away down an alley type road, is that why you can’t find me?”

“Wow, a walking fanfiction trope.”

Buck blinks at nothing, eyes stinging as the smoke tinged tears settle on his lash line. “A what?”

“Nevermind. I still can’t seem to triangulate you, we have sent fire trucks to 5th street so they will be able to find you as they go.”

“Which fire trucks?”

“Sorry?”

“Which house?” He knows he’s being rude, demanding almost. But if God was real and on his side, Eddie would be hurtling down the road in a roaring firetruck to save him. 

Josh hesitates for a moment before replying. “I’ve dispatched the 135 and the 118. Why? Do you know a firefighter?”

“Eddie Diaz. 118. He’ll know where I am. You have to tell him, he’ll be able to find me. He has to find me.” His voice is desperate, pleading to any entity around him for Eddie to just. Fucking. Find. Him. 

“Ok, Buck. Let me patch them through, can you check the doorknob again for me whilst we wait for them to reach you?”

Buck does as he’s asked, stupidly confident in the fact that it will still be cool. It comes as a surprise, and with a loud yelp, when the palm of his hand almost sizzles when he touches it.

He’s trying not to panic, deep breath in, deep breath out, just like what his therapist taught him to do. “Josh, it’s hot. It’s really fucking hot. Oh god, the fire’s right outside. I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

Josh’s voice is strong, steady. A mast for Buck to lean against before he spirals. “No, Buck, you’re not going to die. I’m patching the 118 in now, stay with me.”

More keyboard clacking, a dial tone and a responding bleep. 

“118, this is Dispatch, do you copy?”

Bobby’s voice rings loud through the phone's speakers. “Dispatch, go for 118.”

“I have the resident who phoned about the building fire on 5th street, the one you’re currently heading to. He says Eddie will know where to go.”

Buck nearly whimpers when Eddie’s voice echoes through, tinny and crackling but so undeniably Eddie. 

“What? Say that again, Josh?”

“He said you’ll know where to find him.”

“5th street… 5th… Oh god. It’s Buck.” The end of his sentence trails off, voice wavering. 

He hears the others in the truck, overlapping repetitions of his own name calling back to him. 

Josh reaches out for him verbally, a life line as the smoke around him thickens exponentially. “Buck, are you still there?”

A cough rattles through him before he can respond. “I’m here, Josh.”

He hears what sounds like a sob echo through the speakers before Eddie’s voice comes back. “Buck, oh my god, we’re coming to get you, ok? I promise. We’re gonna get you out of there.”

He almost feels comforted until the sound of crackling echoes in the otherwise quiet room. Turning slowly, his gut sinks as he sees small licks of flames come through the gaps in the door. The completely wooden door. “Eddie…”

“Yes, Buck?”

“Please hurry. It’s here.”

–

Eddie gets cut off as the fire engines roll onto 5th street, the last Buck had heard was him barking directions at whoever was driving. Josh stays on the line, talks Buck through what to do next. 

He cracks open his window, pulling a wet towel over his head and over his nose and mouth to block any more smoke from crawling into his lungs. 

He can see people gathering below, citizens and firefighters alike. He tries to look for Eddie, needing to see a familiar face to get him through this living nightmare. They all look the same from up here, 10 stories up with nowhere to go. The fire escape was just through his front door but so was the fire. 

He was trapped.

Why were they just standing there? Why was no one coming to help them? Why was Eddie not coming to save him? He promised. 

The flames are larger, encompassing the door entirely. The heat burns through his thin t-shirt and he leans closer to the window, hands clawing at the windowsill for a little more space between him and the fire raging behind. 

He calls out for Josh, eyes stinging with tears. He can’t tell if they’re still from the smoke or from his own fear. 

“Yes, Buck? I’m right here, ok. You can see the firefighters, they’re going to get you out.”

“Josh, the floor is hot. They need to evacuate everyone below me. Mr Seo is in Apartment 25. He’s the landlord. Has emphysema and uses oxygen at times. Mrs Jones is in Apartment 10. She can’t walk too well, uses a stick to get around. The Buchanan family in Apartment 86. They have two young kids, James and Jonah. They’re only 8. Tell the firefighters. They need to save them.”

Josh sounds almost desperate, voice cracking around the edges. “They need to save you too. Just hang on, Buck. They’ll get you out of there, I promise.”

Promise. Buck remembers when Maddie promised, pinky promised even, to never leave, then disappeared and left him in the prison called home. Tommy had promised to love him, and he remembers all too well how that ended. Eddie promised to come and get him, yet they were still just fucking standing there. A promise no longer means anything to him, he can’t let himself hope anymore. 

“You shouldn’t make a promise you can’t keep, Josh.”

Josh’s voice is pleading, almost angry at Buck for giving up. “I’m not. They’re going to get you out. They’re heading in now.”

Buck can see them, clad in fireproof gear, charging towards the building doors. “Tell them what I told you, Josh. Please.”

“You sound like you’re giving up. Not on my watch.” Keyboard clacks get louder and before he mutes himself, Josh is shouting across to someone called Linda. 

Buck chances a glance back, eyes roaming over the flames as they crawl up to his ceiling, engulfing the once white paint in thick orange. Backing up against the open window, he raises the phone back to his ear. “Josh, I don’t know if you’re talking to someone else right now, but… tell Eddie I-” He chokes around the words, face screwing up as he harshly wipes away falling tears with the now dry towel. 

“Buck -” Josh’s voice falls away as the fire pushes forward, flames reaching out to him with a kind of scorching tenderness.

“Tell Eddie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t stick around longer. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for Chris. Tell him I love Chris. Tell him I lo-”

He catches himself before he finishes that sentence. He’d only known the man for a few months, how on Earth could he tell Eddie he loved him. It was illogical, a fatal flaw of Buck’s design. He always loved too hard, too soon.

But then he thinks about the way Eddie’s nose scrunches when he laughs, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and the laugh lines around his mouth deepen. 

He thinks about the moments he’d seen Chris and Eddie together. The way they fit together, puzzle pieces with matching edges. The way their hands always reached towards one another. And somewhere along the line, began to reach for him too. 

The phone clatters to the floor, Buck’s hands falling to his sides as he begins to welcome the blazing caress. 

This is it, he thinks. Dying of a broken heart had always been Buck’s first thought when he pondered how he’d go. 

Scraping his knee and calling out for his mother who looked right through him. The stupid motorbike, the stupid car door, the way his parents cared more about the money he’d wasted on the bike over the cast encasing his arm. The weight of disappointed looks from his parents. Waiting at the hospital for a sister who never showed. The sound of the front door slamming as he walked in on Tommy with another. 

Each time, a part of Buck’s heart had chipped away, leaving behind a barrage of cracks and breaks, lines tore deep from each betrayal. 

He never even considered fire. 

It was fitting. He’d finally found what could be a second chance. At a family not born from blood but from love. Chris. His sweet, sweet Chris. And with Chris, came his firefighter dad. Eddie. Of course, God was not on his side. 

If something was going to take Buck away now, it would be the very thing Eddie fights everyday. 

Before the fire has a chance to pull him into its burning embrace, an arm hooks around his waist, yanking him back through the open window. The air rattles from his lungs at the heavy landing, back pressed hard against thick turnout gear. 

Coughing loudly, he looks up into familiar doe eyes. 

–

Buck doesn’t remember passing out. Doesn’t remember the broken sound of Eddie crying his name as he pulled him down the ladder. Doesn’t remember the hand held tightly around his as the ambulance hurtled towards First Presbyterian. 

He does remember big, brown eyes, panicked yet determined. 

He does remember the way his own mouth had tugged up at the corners, eyes tracing the contours of a face he had come to know so well. 

He does remember the last words to slip past his lips before he fell into darkness. Warm and reverent like a believer’s prayer. “ Eddie .”

The hospital light is too bright, the beeping of the heart monitor too loud. The smell of antiseptic and something distinctly hospital-like assaults his senses, a gag working its way out of his throat as the memories of the last time he had been somewhere like this whirl through his mind. 

His eyes slowly work their way open, blinking at the harsh light beaming down on him. His hand feels heavy, blanketed in warmth. He glances down, noticing a hand wrapped around his, knuckles white from how tightly it held on. 

He moves his gaze upwards, takes in tanned arms smattered in dark hair, a black Henley, dark tousled hair belonging to a head buried deep in hospital blankets. 

He flexes his fingers once, feeling the way the hand wrapped around his tightens immediately. 

The head looks up and Buck’s breath catches in his throat, tickling down smoke singed lungs. 

Eddie was beautiful. Even like this. Big brown eyes, lined red with unshed tears. The skin of his cheeks mottled as if he’d been crying moments before. The way his mouth opened and closed again, and again, until he was jumping up from his seat, free hand slamming against the call button behind his head. 

“Buck?”

Eddie was so beautiful. 

“Buck, can you hear me?”

He loved Eddie. So much. 

“Buck, say something, please. God, I was so scared. What were you doing? Why were you giving up? I told you I was coming for you, I promised!”

Buck blinks back at him, mind whirring as he tries to remember what had happened before he evidently passed out. He remembers flames, angry and all encompassing. Josh, sweet Josh, trying his hardest to keep Buck fighting. Eddie’s arm around his waist as he pulled Buck to safety. 

“Chris.” 

God, his voice sounded awful. Scratchy and pathetic as the word comes out as more of a rasp. 

Eddie sobs, tears tracking down his cheeks as his free hand comes to rest against Buck’s cheek, thumb brushing away stray tears. Buck didn’t even realise he was crying. 

“I didn’t want him to see you like this, but he asked about you everytime Bobby forced me to go home and rest. He’s gonna be so happy you’re awake, he’s missed you so much.”

The hand against his cheek is trembling, Buck reaching up to cover it with his own. He watches as Eddie’s shoulders relax, letting Buck’s fingers slide into the spaces between his own. 

“How long?” It hurts to talk, each syllable a red hot fire poker branding his throat, but he needs to know. 

“3 days. You inhaled a lot of smoke, mi cielo. The doctors were surprised you managed to hold on for so long, but I told them they didn’t know our Buck.”

Their Buck. 

Buck likes the sound of that. 

Before he can respond, nurses and doctors come rushing in, brushing Eddie away to check Buck’s vitals. As the man's fingers slip from his own, Buck can’t help but feel cold. 

Eddie was always so, so warm. 

–

Accidental arson. 

At least that’s what Mr Seo told Buck when he called one night from the plush mattress of Eddie’s bed. 

Mr Reid. Apartment 105. Spent most of his time staring disgruntledly out the window of his silent apartment, half lit cigarette hanging from his arthritic fingers. Buck sometimes caught his eye on the way to work, offering a small smile and a wave, only to be stonewalled in response. 

He hadn’t always been so angry at the world. Buck guesses that’s what happens when your wife leaves you for a younger man and your kids slowly distance themselves as the child support dries up. 

Mr Reid and Mr Seo had an unlikely friendship, one born from loneliness and an ache for family ties. All of Mr Seo’s family lived back in Korea, and Mr Reid’s… well they only lived around the corner on Boulevard Avenue, but they may as well have been a world away. 

The night of the fire, Mr Reid had been sitting in his armchair, lit cigarette half smoked between his fingers. Mr Seo told Buck that Mr Reid wasn’t well. The dreaded big C. 

Began in his lungs, no doubt from the years of smoke scorching his lungs. Then it spread to his kidneys, liver, brain. To quote Buck’s guilty pleasure film, he lit up like a Christmas tree on his routine x-rays. 

Mr Reid had closed his eyes in that worn armchair and never opened them again. The rug on the floor was the unfortunate first victim of the glowing cherry of the Marlboro that had slipped from his fingers, the flames ravaging over a half century of broken memories until they had engulfed all of Apartment 105, and then the rest of the building. 

–

Buck was feeling better. His chest no longer ached when he took a deep breath in, the slight burns on his back and scabbed over, soothed by the balm Eddie would religiously apply every night before bed. 

It had been 3 weeks since his apartment had burnt to a crisp and Eddie had pulled him from the hospital bed and into his own home. 

Buck had tried to argue, looking up reasonable hotels for a teacher’s salary on the drive home. Eddie had batted the phone from his hand, pulling him from the car and grinning as Buck stared wide eyed at the welcome home party before him. 

All of the 118 were there. Despite having never met them, he couldn’t help but grin as Hen pulled him into a tight hug, rocking them back and forth as she murmured about how happy they all were that he’d made a full recovery. 

“Eddie and Chris love you so much, of course we do too.”

That had been Howie, or as he liked to be called, Chim’s words of wisdom before Buck finds himself wrapped in a bear hug. Despite the fact that Buck had a good half a foot on him, Chim still encompassed him, bundling him up into reasonably strong arms. 

Albert and Ravi had tackled him from either side, evil cackles escaping as Eddie fretted over Buck’s injuries. “We won’t break your boyfriend, don’t worry.”

It went, thankfully, unnoticed that neither of them denied the statement. 

Bobby and his wife, Athena, offered him gentle pats on his shoulders, avoiding the bulky areas where gauze lay hidden beneath a borrowed t-shirt. 

The group part down the middle, Buck falling to his knees unceremoniously as Chris made his way over, smile bright enough to blind him. Small arms wrap gingerly around his waist, Chris nuzzling against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I missed you, Mr Buck.”

Buck holds on tight, ignoring the way tears drip down onto Chris’ curls. “I missed you too, bud. So, so much.”

Snapping himself back to the present, he shakes the cheesy grin off his face, cutting off the last crust of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before carrying it over to Chris who sat comfortably at the table, legs swinging softly. 

Eddie’s just stepped through the door, a cheeky “honeys, I’m home” announcing his arrival. Buck greets him softly before Chris’ voice calls out. “Thanks, Dad!”

Buck freezes. As does Eddie. Chris… keeps on eating his sandwich. 

The two men are locked in a silent conversation, eyes widening and narrowing, hands moving a mile a minute as they try to navigate what just happened. 

‘What was that?’

‘I have no idea, I literally just got home.’

‘What do we do?’

‘I don’t know, I’ve never had to deal with this before.’

‘You’re his dad! You should know!’

‘Apparently, so are you.’

Buck scoffs at Eddie’s teasing grin, slowly turning back to face Chris. The boy smiles up at him, jam smeared across his cheeks. Eddie brushes past him, hand resting against his waist as he goes. 

“Mijo. Did… did you mean to call Buck dad?”

Chris hums around his final bite of sandwich, taking his time to chew slowly before swallowing. Buck unconsciously reaches for a napkin to wipe away the mess on his face as he waits nervously for Chris to respond. 

“Yes. He takes care of me. He cuts the crusts off my sandwiches. He gives me hugs when I ask him. He loves me. He makes me happy. He makes you happy. Mr Buck is my dad.”

Buck kneels down, knuckles brushing against Chris’ soft cheek. “Chris, you already have a dad though.”

Chris levels him with a look. “Well, duh. Now I have two!”

Before either of the men can respond, Chris pushes himself from the table, the tip tap of his crutches getting quieter as he heads off to his room. The click of his door is permission for Buck to start spiralling. 

“Eds,” he didn’t deserve to call him that. “Eddie, I swear I didn’t make him call me that. I don’t even know where that came from. I’m so sorry, I’ll get my stuff and be out of your hair in an hour.”

“Buck.”

He’s pacing backwards now, back coming to press up against the wall, a scared animal forced to choose fight or flight. As always, he chose flight. ”I’m so sorry for overstepping. Chris is just such a sweet kid, you- you’ve done such a good job raising him. You .” He’s not making sense, words jumbling as he fights to undo the damage he’s caused. 

“Buck, hang on-”

“You’re a good dad, Eddie. A really fucking good dad. I’m sorry.” Buck can’t catch his breath, it’s worse than when he was in the fire. It burns even though the air around him is clear, a vice grip wrapped around his chest as his heart pumps so fast, Buck is scared it’s about to burst from his chest. 

The vice wraps tighter, squeezing like a viper, before Buck realises it’s not a vice at all. Eddie’s arms are warm, they always are. His fingers cling to the back of Buck’s top, digging in tight as he whispers softly into Buck’s ear. 

“ Estás bien. No hiciste nada malo. Por favor, cálmate. Respira profundo, querido. Estás a salvo aquí, nunca te haría daño.”

Buck has absolutely no idea what he’s saying, he had never paid attention in Spanish class. Eddie’s tone is soft, a balm against the burn deep in Buck’s chest. He clings to him, face buried deep into Eddie’s chest. 

He can hear his therapist in the back of his head. Deep breaths. In. Out. He lets the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest lull him into stable breaths. If Eddie inhaled, Buck exhaled and vice versa. 

Eddie kept his hold tight around him, hand moving soothingly up and down his back. He was no longer talking, instead humming a song Buck didn’t recognise. 

Buck can feel that the fabric of Eddie’s t-shirt against his face is wet, cheeks burning as he sniffles softly. Eddie must sense that he’s slowly calming down, slowly pulling away to scan his face. 

“Back with me?”

Buck nods in response, not wanting to speak for fear his voice will come out thickened, cloyed with remnant tears. 

“Good.” Eddie’s hand still wrapped around his back guides the two of them to the sofa. “Now, I’m not the best at… emotional conversations so bear with me.”

One hand rests beside him, pinky finger mere centimetres from Buck’s. “I know you think I’m mad or something that Chris called you dad, but honestly, it’s a relief.”

Buck blinks at him wordlessly, confused as to how hearing your own son call someone else dad could feel like anything other than a betrayal. 

“Chris adores you. Even before we started,” Eddie coughs, hands rubbing against his jeans, “before we became friends, he couldn’t stop talking about you. I’ll admit, I was a little jealous of Mr Buck in the beginning but when we met you in the supermarket, I understood.”

Eddie’s not looking at him anymore, eyes trained on the picture frame on the mantle. They’d taken Chris to the zoo, the three of them crowding into Buck’s phone lens whilst still trying to get the penguins behind them in shot. It’s one of Buck’s favourites, Eddie’s too apparently. 

“You have this energy. I don’t know how to describe it other than magnetic. Everytime I left one of our hangouts, I could feel this… tug in my gut, something pulling me back to you. At first, I thought it was just because I’d finally made a new friend in this town, but then the night you let me stay over at yours. I woke up in the middle of the night and somehow we’d been drawn together. Holding you like that felt, I don’t know, right. I may have played it cool but it scared the shit out of me.”

Eddie’s hands twist nervously in his lap and Buck wants nothing more than to reach out and hold them between his own, feel the warmth seep deep into his bones. 

“I was straight, or at least I thought I was. Sure, maybe I thought a guy we rescued was handsome, but guys can think guys are handsome and still be straight, right?”

Eddie turns to Buck to back him up, the only response he gets is a small shrug of shoulders. 

“But then we kept hanging out, and I kept wanting to touch you, to hold your hand, cuddle in on the sofa during movie night. Then, we were out for ice cream and you managed to make a total mess,” Eddie chuckles at the memory, “and I wanted nothing more than to kiss the ice cream off your face and see if you tasted just as sweet.”

Buck’s breath catches in his throat. He thought he’d been projecting his own feelings onto Eddie the entire time, reading into every moment too deeply and analysing them through rose tinted glasses. 

“Eddie.” His voice is no louder than a whisper, but it echoes like a yell in the quiet living room. 

“I- I think I love you, Buck. I know I like you, a lot. Like a lot a lot. I think that’s why Chris calling you dad didn’t upset me. Like that night at your apartment, it felt right. Everything I do with you feels right. Us. Me, you, Chris. It feels right, it feels good.”

Eddie ends his speech there, face turned towards him. He can’t meet his eyes, gaze locked on the birth mark just above Buck’s eyebrow. 

“Eddie.”

Brown eyes meet his, warm but hesitant. “I think I love you too.”

The smile that melts across Eddie’s face lights a fire in Buck’s gut, sparks trickling down his spine. The rest of the sentence goes unsaid. No, I know I love you too.  

He can’t tell who leans in first but the first brush of lips is a spark. The second; kindling, smouldering embers as it works its way through every vertebrae. The third; ignition, searing hot, incinerating any worries Buck could have had. 

Sweat builds at the base of his neck, Eddie any and everywhere around him. A thigh slotted between his own, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as Eddie pushes him back against the sofa. His head bums softly against the firm armrest, the slight ache at the back of his skull forgotten as Eddie licks into his mouth, an unspoken apology he accepts instantly. 

Buck’s hands creep underneath the back of Eddie’s shirt, fingertips mapping out every movement of muscle, trailing softly enough to pull a shudder from the man above him. An appreciative groan rumbles in his chest, hands pushing Eddie down until every curve of their bodies touch in sweet serenity. 

Time loses meaning, press after press of lips, hands, chests, thighs pulling Buck deeper into blissful pleasure. 

When Eddie finally pulls away, Buck follows, blushing at the whimper that leaves him unconsciously. Eddie’s smile is still so warm, lips slick with spit, plump lower lip enticing Buck to lean up and nip at the bruised skin, relishing in the groan it pulls from Eddie. 

He almost pouts when Eddie stands, craving the delicious warmth only Eddie could provide. 

Hand reached outwards, Eddie grins down at him. “Let’s go see our son.”

Slipping his hand into Eddie’s work rough one, Buck lets himself be pulled from the sofa, dragged down the hallway towards the family he’s always wanted. The family he’s always deserved.