Chapter Text
“Okay, listen up, we’re being called in as support on this one,” Bobby’s voice crackled through the headphones as the engine raced through the Los Angeles streets to a three alarm fire. “The 136 and 124 are already on scene. Captain Johnson is the incident commander so we’ll do what he says. Everyone copy?”
The 118 echoed their acknowledgement of the instructions back to Bobby. Buck leaned into the feeling of adrenaline buzzing through his veins as he watched the streets blur by beside him. He loved the little calls, helping people with minor injuries, calming them down with jokes and grins; but there was just something about the major incidents that lit his insides with purpose.
When his feet landed on the hot summer pavement, he allowed his senses to take over. The smoke was billowing into the air surrounding the building as the fire ravaged the structure from the inside out. He followed Bobby toward the 136’s engine, where Johnson was barking out orders to the surrounding crews.
“Where do you need us?” Bobby greeted the other Captain, who provided him a sharp nod in return and began a rundown of the situation: a dangerous apartment fire that was spreading rapidly.
Buck’s fingers tapped lightly at his sides, expelling some of the energy he had, ready to jump into things. Johnson directed Hen and Chim toward where the medics were stationed to triage victims and pointed the rest of the 118 toward different tasks. When his eyes landed on Buck, he whisked his gaze toward the crowd, and called out, “Diaz!”
One of the firefighters on crowd control, ‘Diaz’ emblazoned across the back of his turnout, whipped his head around quickly, hurrying over at the motion of his Captain. Buck’s eyes (on their own accord) followed the steady flop, flop, flop of the man’s soft brown hair bouncing on his forehead. Johnson clapped a hand on Diaz’s shoulder and instructed, “You and Buckley grab some gear and pick up on clearing the building starting on the fourth floor. Haven and Trenton have cleared the first three and are rotating out.”
“Yes, sir,” Diaz responded, barely glancing at Buck as he moved toward the engine to grab his gear. Buck did his absolute best to not react to the man’s voice (hot!) and Bobby should be proud with how long Buck did not hesitate as he stared at the man’s ass, which somehow still looked good in his baggy turnouts (unfair!) and wow, this might be the best Tuesday maybe ever?
He jumped into action, grabbing his own gear from the 118 engine, following Diaz as quickly as he could. Before he could get too far, Bobby’s voice echoed behind him, “Buck, follow Diaz’s lead in there, no shenanigans.” Buck, a chronic thumbs-upper, threw his thumb into the air, hoping it would be enough to placate his captain.
“Alright Buckley, let’s hit these stairs,” Diaz shouted over his shoulder to Buck, who was right on his tail. “Then we’ll go door by door clearing each room.”
Buck cringed inwardly at the more formal use of his last name, but affirmed the man’s direction, just happy to be doing his job, happy to be alive on this Tuesday, happy to be following the hottest man alive into the flames. It was with this thought that he yelled, “You can just call me Buck!”
The firefighter didn’t respond verbally, he simply provided Buck with a look, and what could maybe be perceived as a nod, as they rounded the second floor and continued their dash up the stairs. Buck, naturally himself even in the midst of a fire, yelled out, “Hey, did you know that the longest staircase in the world is 11,674 steps? Imagine how your legs would feel after climbing up all that!”
He thought Diaz’s shoulders might have moved with a huff, but he couldn’t be certain. Regardless, he rattled out another fact. “Also, did you know that firehouses started using spiral staircases because the horses kept climbing up the stairs and getting stuck?”
“Passing floor three,” was Diaz’s response.
“And spiral staircases basically always turn clockwise, which started in castles like way back in olden times because it was an advantage for the defense since most knights were right-handed and the opposition would have trouble sword fighting with the wall getting in the way.”
“Okay, this is four, let’s start moving.”
Buck sighed, disappointed at the man’s stoicism. Despite what others might think when it came to Buck’s ADHD, he was not one to get sidetracked from his job, so he immediately began pounding on the door on his left, “LAFD, call out!”
As they moved onto the second set of doors, Buck said, “Did you know that apartment buildings date back to the Roman Empire?”
“Buck,” Diaz’s voice was harsh over the sound of the fire upstairs, too sharp to even care about how his name sounded rolling off his tongue (not that Buck cared how he said his name, of course). “I’m trying to do my job here.”
Buck’s mouth immediately clapped shut, his jaw clenching. “Oh, sorry, right,” Buck mumbled before turning and pounding on the next door. They worked their way methodically down the hallway, shouting, pounding, listening. Buck kept his lips tight on fun facts, although they raced through his brain anyway, and stuck to his job.
He understood that not everyone worked like he did, not everyone loved fun facts when they were trying to focus, not everyone liked Buck.
Once they reached the end of the hall with no sign of life from any of the rooms, Diaz reached for his radio. “This is Diaz, four is clear, Buckley and I are moving up to five.”
Buck followed him into the stairwell on the opposite side of the building, their heavy footsteps echoing as they pounded up the stairs. As they swung around, the man turned over his shoulder and said, “The horse fact was funny. About the spiral stairs. I didn’t know that.”
Buck couldn’t help the grin that overtook his face, nor the laugh that erupted from his chest. He thinks I’m funny , he thought to himself proudly, just as Diaz’s radio crackled to life. “Negative Diaz, do not move to five. The building is gonna come down, evacuate immediately.”
“Copy that, Diaz and Buckley moving out,” Diaz spoke into the radio, motioning for Buck to start moving. It was at that moment that Buck heard a distant shout of help coming from the fifth floor. With wide eyes, he pushed past Eddie back toward the entrance to the fifth floor. If they could hear the voice from here, the victim had to be trapped in one of the closer rooms. They could reach them in time.
A firm grip on his arm halted his movement. “Buck, what are you doing?”
“You heard that, right?”
Another shout of help echoed through the door.
“We have to evacuate, Buck, it’s not safe.”
“No, we have to save them, it’s our duty.”
Diaz stared at him, searching his face, for what Buck didn’t know, but before he had a chance to say anything else, Buck ripped his arm free from the man’s grip and plunged through the doorway, shouting, “LAFD, call out!”
“God fucking dammit,” Diaz cursed as he crashed after him, shoulder to shoulder as they searched for the apartment the voice was coming from.
Finally, Buck pinpointed the sound, four doors down, and knocked down the door. Diaz’ radio blared to life again, “Diaz, Buckley. What’s your position? You should be out by now.”
Buck plowed through the bathroom door in the apartment, checking the pulse of the woman, passed out in the bathtub. “Got a pulse, but it’s weak,” Buck conveyed to Diaz as he pulled the woman over his shoulder and began moving out of the apartment. Just as they stepped out into the hallway, a large cracking sound pierced the air.
Buck felt two heavy palms in his back, shoving him out of the way of the ceiling caving in. The smoke in the hallway was thick and the heat was blazing. Slowly, Buck peeled himself off the floor. He spun on his way down to protect the woman, taking the brunt of the fall. His shoulder ached from the impact.
He blinked at the direction of the doorway, the path now blocked by the debris. Diaz was on all fours, pushing himself up through the debris with a cough. The man’s helmet was unceremoniously tossed from his head by the impact. Buck’s eyes widened at the blood dripping down his forehead.
The radio crackled again, Bobby’s voice this time, “Buck, do you copy?”
“You okay?” Buck rasped, still catching his breath from getting the wind knocked out of him.
Diaz grunted as he heaved himself off the floor, sweeping his cracked helmet off the floor in the process. “Yeah, let’s move, we have to go out the other way.”
Buck pulled the woman onto his shoulder again and began the trek down the smoky hallway, hoping Diaz was right behind him.
“Buck, you better answer me right now,” Bobby’s voice, an edge to his tone, echoed through the radio again.
“This is Diaz.” Shit, the man’s voice sounded wrecked. “We’re moving across five now, the ceiling collapsed on the end where we were. Coming down the North stairwell with one victim, unconscious, have medical on standby.”
“The fifth-” Oh, okay, that’s Bobby’s angry voice . “Okay, copy. Hurry.” Buck could practically hear Bobby’s put upon sigh, could definitely imagine the look in his eyes as he dished out Buck’s reprimand and punishment.
He felt Eddie’s hand on his back behind him as they made their way down the stairs in silence. As soon as they broke through the doors into open air, the medical team was pulling the woman out of Buck’s arms and moving her quickly toward an ambulance.
“Are you kidding me, Buck?” The disappointment in Bobby’s voice was palpable. Hen’s hands flurried over Buck’s face and arms, searching for any visible scratches or ailments while Chim tried in vain to pull Diaz toward the ambulance. “You heard the woman, I get it, but you know better than to disobey direct orders when the structure is deemed unsafe and unfit for further rescue. You put both you and Diaz at risk.”
“Bobby, I-” Buck started with a choke, the tears stinging at his eyes.
“No, Buck, there’s going to be-”
“I made the call,” Diaz said clearly and firmly, cutting off Bobby.
Buck startled and threw his wild gaze in Diaz’s direction, who was determinedly staring Bobby down.
“I heard the woman when we entered the stairwell and I made the call to go to the fifth floor despite evacuation orders. The only thing Buck is guilty of is following my lead.”
Buck opened his mouth to protest, but shut his mouth when Diaz’s hand wrapped around his wrist, halting any words from spilling out of his mouth.
“Bobby, I need to check out his head wound,” Chim’s voice cut through the tension. Bobby blinked, glancing suspiciously between the two firefighters and nodded his assent to Chim, who quickly ushered Diaz toward a waiting ambulance. Bobby’s gaze then swung toward Buck, who gave him a sheepish grin, then allowed himself to be pulled along by Hen.
“You’re surprisingly quiet, Buck, you alright there?” Hen whispered to him gently as she wiped at the soot on his face. Buck nodded absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on Diaz across the lawn, who was currently being chewed out by his captain for disobeying orders and pulling another firefighter along with him.
As soon as the man was left to his own devices, Buck pushed Hen’s arm out of the way, mumbling a, “sorry, excuse me,” as he made his way over to the other man. When he reached him, Diaz was leaning back against the side of the ambulance, his eyes closed.
“Hey,” Buck said softly.
Diaz opened one eye and looked Buck up and down, clearly checking him for any visible injuries, which certainly didn’t make Buck’s heart flutter at all. Once he deemed Buck was fine, he closed his eye, relaxing his shoulders and returned the greeting with a gentleness that Buck didn’t expect.
“Hey, Buck.”
“Are you okay?”
Diaz attempted to nod, but winced at the movement. “Mild concussion.”
“I am so sorry,” Buck started, but the other man cut him off, a smirk dancing across his lips.
“It’s fine, Buck. I’m fine. And that woman is fine thanks to you.”
Buck gulped, swallowing down the heaviness in his throat. “Why did you-” He paused, staring at the other man for a beat, who seemed so nonchalant, so… not uptight like Buck had previously thought. He was relaxed, his eyes still closed as Buck fought to find the right words. “You didn’t have to-” Buck tried again.
Diaz opened both his eyes this time, locking onto Buck’s gaze. He did his best to not shrink back at the intensity of it all. “Don’t worry about it. I have your back.”
Buck could barely contain the fire blossoming in his chest. “Yeah?” Buck barely managed.
“Yeah, that is why I said it.” That smirk. Those eyes . Fucking hell.
“Well, uh, I mean, I have your back too,” Buck stumbled over his words.
The man snorted and mumbled, “Okay, Buck.”
Buck’s radio crackled. Bobby. “Buckley, we’re moving out, let’s go.”
Buck’s gaze lingered on the man once more, tracing him up and down. He could swear the other firefighter blushed, but he really couldn’t be certain if his cheeks were still just pink from the rush of it all. “I gotta-” he pointed over his shoulder at the 118’s truck. “Thanks, Diaz.”
He could feel the man’s gaze on his back as he turned. “Hey, Buck!” Buck spun around on his heel, ready to hang on to every word that ever made its way out of this man’s mouth. Every breath.
“You can call me Eddie.”
Buck’s whole body lit up like fireworks. He beamed at his new friend. “Thanks, Eddie!” He called with a wave as he turned and hustled his way back to the truck, blatantly ignoring the snickers from his teammates as he pulled himself into his seat.