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Buck hadn’t planned to be running on fumes by the time the latest call ended, but the shift had been relentless. The 118 had been bouncing from one incident to the next—a fender bender turned freeway pileup, a warehouse alarm malfunction, and a high-rise fire across town. By the time Bobby dismissed them, Buck was ready to collapse into bed.
Or, at least, he thought he was.
As he peeled off his gear, his phone buzzed persistently in his pocket. Hen’s voice floated over his shoulder as he fumbled to grab it.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Hen said, looking at her phone with wide eyes as Buck peeled off his gear.
“What?” Buck asked, freezing mid-motion, his heart already pounding.
Hen turned the screen toward him. “Athena just texted me. She said they’ve been trying to reach you—there’s a fire at your building. Looks like the 217 is on scene.”
“What?” Buck’s voice was sharp, alarmed. He grabbed his own phone, realizing he had missed several calls and messages during the chaos of the shift.
Hen nodded, her expression serious. “The apartment above yours went up. I don’t have all the details, but Athena says it’s under control now.”
Buck didn’t wait for more details. Tossing a hurried goodbye to the team, he hopped into his jeep and floored it toward home, dread tightening in his chest with every block closer.
When he pulled onto his street, his building loomed dark and soaked, smoke-streaked but standing. The acrid smell of burnt wood and chemicals hung in the cold night air, but the chaos had mostly calmed. Firefighters were rolling hoses back onto the rigs, and neighbors huddled on the sidewalk in blankets distributed by the Red Cross from the looks of it.
And there he was—Tommy, standing near one of the rigs, speaking to another firefighter. Relief flooded Buck’s veins as he parked hastily and jogged over.
“Tommy!”
Tommy turned at the sound of his name, his face relaxing slightly, though his expression stayed serious. His helmet was off, soot smudged across his cheek.
“Evan,” Tommy said, striding toward him with purpose, his expression a mix of concern and relief. “You’re supposed to be on shift.”
“I just got off,” Buck replied, his voice tight with worry. “Athena texted Hen about the fire. How bad is it? My loft—?”
Tommy’s hand came to rest on Buck’s shoulder, steadying him. “The fire was contained to the apartment above yours. No injuries, but your unit... It’s not good, Evan. Mostly water damage. Sprinklers and our hoses didn’t leave much dry.”
Buck exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “So, what now? I can’t stay there.”
Tommy squeezed his shoulder gently. “Not for a while, no. But we’ll figure it out.”
---
Inside, the scene hit Buck like a punch to the gut. His belongings were technically still there, but the loft felt unrecognizable. Water pooled in uneven patches across the floor, and the wood had already begun to warp and buckle. The area rug he’d picked out with Maddie, the one she’d called his “first adult purchase,” was drenched and stained. His couch was soaked, its fabric darkened with moisture. Books and papers were scattered and waterlogged, their ink smeared into illegible streaks. The smell of smoke lingered faintly beneath the overpowering dampness.
Buck stood in the middle of the destruction, his hands limp at his sides, his eyes scanning the damage in numb disbelief. It wasn’t just the water—it was the stark realization of how fragile everything felt.
He took a shaky breath. “It’s...a mess,” he muttered, his voice strained. He nudged the edge of the soaked rug with his foot, watching it squelch pathetically.
Tommy stayed close but didn’t speak right away. His eyes flicked over the scene, cataloging the damage, before landing back on Buck. “It’s not ideal,” he agreed quietly.
Buck gave a hollow laugh, his throat tight. “Not ideal?” His hand gestured vaguely to the room. “Tommy, it’s wrecked. Everything’s wrecked.”
The man stepped closer, his gaze softening. “Hey, it’s just stuff,” he said gently. “It’s not you. It’s not what matters.”
Buck exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. “Yeah, I know that. I do. But it still—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “It still feels like I’m losing something. Like I don’t even know where to start picking up the pieces here. I've never been on the other end of a call. Well, not like this at least.”
Tommy hesitated for a moment, then reached out and slid an arm around Buck’s waist, grounding him. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight,” he said firmly. “We’ll deal with this. Together.”
Buck let himself lean into his boyfriend's warmth, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He looked around again, his voice quieter this time. “This place…it was the first time I really felt like I had my own space, you know? My own life. And now…” His voice cracked, and he bit down on the rest of the sentence.
Tommy’s grip on him tightened, his other hand coming up to rest on Buck’s shoulder. “You’ll have that again. This isn’t the end of anything, Evan. It’s just a setback.”
Buck let out a bitter laugh. “A setback soaked in a few hundred gallons of water.”
Tommy tilted his head, catching his gaze. “You’re allowed to be upset. This sucks, plain and simple. But your life isn’t this loft. It’s you, your people, your work. You’ve got a family, Evan. You’ve got me.”
Buck blinked, emotion welling up in his eyes. He nodded slowly, his breath hitching. “I know. I just… It’s a lot, you know? And I'm exhausted.”
Tommy pressed a kiss to Buck’s temple, murmuring softly. “We’ll get through it. I promise.”
Buck ran a hand through his damp hair, his voice hesitant. “I guess I’ll call Eddie, see if I can crash at his place for a bit.”
Tommy frowned, his expression soft but firm. “Eddie’s in Texas, Evan. And honestly, why would you even think about that when I’m right here?”
Buck blinked, caught off guard. “Tommy, this could take weeks. I don’t want to invade your space—”
Tommy stepped closer, his hand brushing over Buck’s arm before resting on his chest. “You’re not invading anything. You’re my boyfriend, Evan. My home is your home, for as long as you need it. No conditions, no hesitations.”
Buck looked at him, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Are you sure?”
Tommy’s gaze softened even more, and he cupped Buck’s face, his thumb brushing over his cheek. “If you ask me that again, I’ll carry you out of here myself. You belong with me, Evan. No matter how long this takes.”
The tension in Buck’s shoulders eased slightly, a small, grateful smile breaking through. “Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll stay.”
“Good,” Tommy said with quiet conviction, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Buck’s lips. “Because that’s where you’re supposed to be.”
---
By the time they arrived at Tommy’s house, Buck could feel the weight of the night pressing heavily on him, every muscle aching with exhaustion. His boyfriend unlocked the door and gently guided him inside, the familiar warmth of the space wrapping around Buck like a soothing embrace.
“Sit,” Tommy said softly, his hand brushing over Buck’s arm as he motioned to the couch. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
Buck nodded wordlessly, sinking into the couch and letting his head fall back with a weary sigh. The quiet was comforting, and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to exhale fully.
When Tommy returned, it was with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, the rich aroma filling the room. He handed one to Buck, his fingers lingering just long enough to offer reassurance before sitting down beside him.
Buck took a sip, his eyes fluttering closed as the warmth spread through him. “This is incredible,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Is this the fancy recipe? Because it tastes like magic.”
Tommy huffed a quiet laugh, his own smile soft and easy. “Only the best for you.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the evening slowly dissipating. Buck shifted, leaning into Tommy’s side and resting his head on his shoulder. His voice, when it came, was quiet and tentative. “Thanks for letting me stay. I don’t know what I’d do otherwise.”
His hand moved up to thread through Buck’s curls, his touch light but grounding. “You don’t need to thank me, Evan. You’re here because this is where you’re meant to be. With me.”
Buck tilted his head to look up at Tommy, his chest tightening at the sheer sincerity etched into his boyfriend’s expression. “I know, but... it’s a big deal, isn’t it? Letting me move in, even temporarily?”
Tommy’s lips curved into a faint smile, his fingers still gently carding through Buck’s hair. “You really think I wouldn’t want you here?” His voice was a low murmur, steady and sure. “Sweetheart, if it were up to me, you’d have moved in a long time ago.”
The words hit Buck with the force of something unspoken finally set free. His eyes widened slightly, a soft flush creeping up his neck. Before he could find the right response, Tommy leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss that was as unhurried as it was deliberate. It spoke of love, of safety, of everything Buck hadn’t dared to hope for.
When they finally pulled apart, Buck’s face was warm, his smile soft and genuine. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Tommy chuckled, wrapping an arm around the younger man and tugging him closer until they were tangled together on the couch. “Takes one to know one,” he teased, his voice dipping into a familiar warmth that made Buck feel utterly at peace.
As the night settled around them, the city’s quiet hum filtering through the windows, Buck let himself relax fully for the first time. His loft might be damaged and uninhabitable, but here, wrapped in Tommy’s arms, it didn’t matter. For the first time in a long time, Buck felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.