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Buck was already halfway through his second beer when the stool next to him scraped back and she sat down. He’d noticed her earlier, a little spark of interest zapping him when she threw her head back laughing at something her friend she was with had said. She had one of those carefree smiles that caught his attention without trying, and Buck, tired, annoyed, and maybe just a little desperate for a distraction, had been nursing that second drink with the faint hope she might come over. He threw her a couple of smiles, sent over a drink, and then crossed his fingers. He had been out of the game for a minute, but he hoped that she’d come over and they could talk and see where the night took them.
And she did.
"That seat taken?" she asked, her voice a blend of curious and teasing.
"Nope," Buck said, offering his easy grin, the one that usually worked wonders on a girl like her.
All she did was smile back, sliding into the chair, and leaning into him far closer than required for the low volume in the bar on a weeknight.
He didn’t tell her about the shift that had nearly broken him earlier, the one that had brought him to the bar. He told her he was a firefighter, flexing his biceps that she gripped onto while giggling. But he didn’t tell her about what was truly on his mind. Didn’t mention the kid who OD’d in front of her own mother. Didn’t bring up that the new probie who was assigned to shadow him, to learn from him and had quit on the spot two hours into his shift, pale and shaking after seeing their first real call. Didn’t explain how the station felt too quiet these days, like all of them were overworked while they tried desperately to fill the spot that was open since Jenkins had transferred to a station in the Midwest. He didn’t say that sometimes he feels like he's floating, waiting for someone to tell him what the hell to do next, where to go with his life. That definitely wasn't what she was interested in.
So, instead he told her his name, watching as her eyes darkened a bit when he threw the nickname “firehose” into the conversation. It might not be what he tended to use now, but he knew when it would help, and this was definitely one of those times. She just giggled, pressing herself further into his space and whispering her name into his ear–Rachel. He liked that.
She laughed at his jokes. Leaned in when she talked. Flirted just enough to keep things interesting and make him feel wanted. And that truly what Buck has always needed, to feel wanted. She smelled like coconut and something floral. She stirred her drink with a straw she didn’t use. Her nails were painted pale blue, chipped at the edges. Her number got scrawled on a napkin, and when she slid it across the bar, she smiled and said, “text me,” before disappearing out the door with her friends to take their night to yet another bar.
Buck ended his night by walking home a little drunk, a little flushed, with the napkin tucked in his pocket like some kind of promise and trophy all in one.
He didn’t expect anything big to happen. After all; he wasn’t stupid. He knew what bar flirting was. It was half sexual chemistry and half alcohol. But it felt good to be wanted for a minute, and if there was a chance of meeting up later even for just a hookup, well, he’d take it. Walking home with that number in his pocket made him feel a little like his night wasn't a waste of time.
He ended up not texting her that night, simply passing out on his couch, not even bothering to walk the steps up to his bedroom.
He woke up the next morning with the kind of headache that came from too much cheap beer and flashing dance floor lights. He groaned, rolled over, and squinted at the time.
10:43am.
He sighed, knowing it was a Saturday, the rare one with no shifts or responsibilities to deal with. No, there was just the pounding reminder that he was alone. He rubbed at his face, grabbed his phone off the nightstand, and stared at the napkin for a second. It was kind of smudged, the ink smeared at the bottom from where it had been in his pocket, but the numbers were clear. He typed the number carefully into his phone, and went for it. Afterall, what was the worst that could happen?
Hey Rachel, this is Buck from last night. Just wanted to say it was nice meeting you :)
He hit send before he could overthink it, dropped the phone beside him, and let his eyes fall closed again. The response came faster than he expected. Barely two minutes later, his phone buzzing next to his hand.
Think she gave you the wrong number, dude. No Rachel here, my name’s Eddie.
Buck blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then stared at the screen for a full two minutes, the fog in his head clearing just enough for him to groan out loud. Of course she had given him a wrong number. Just his luck. Oh well. He sat up, rubbing both hands through his hair, embarrassed as hell even though it wasn’t like Eddie could see him.
Shit. I’m so sorry , he typed. Didn’t mean to bother you.”
No worries, came the response, equally as fast as the first reply. Happens more than you’d think.
Buck hesitated. He could just leave it there. Let it go. Chalk it up to one more stupid thing in a long list of frustrating moments in his month from hell. But something about the text made him pause. The tone wasn’t annoyed or clipped or even sarcastic. It was casual, as if Eddie didn’t care, as if he wasn’t even slightly annoyed by being contacted by a random stranger. Buck wasn’t used to people not minding.
I seriously didn’t mean to invade your morning with awkward bar guy energy.
Eddie replied, again, quickly. Could be worse. You could’ve sent a dick pic.
Buck choked on his own breath, a half laugh stuttering its way into the air around him. He stared at the message for a second, then laughed— really laughed —for the first time in what felt like weeks.
Point taken, he sent back. I promise I’m not that kind of guy.
The reply took 5 minutes next time, with Buck tapping on his thigh nervously, fearful he’d somehow screwed this up. Good to know. For the record, you didn’t seem like it. Your text was... weirdly polite .
Buck smiled at that.
Yeah, well. It was kind of a weird night. Guess I wasn’t really feeling the usual bar scene vibe.
Eddie: And yet you still got a number.
Buck: Apparently a fake one.
Eddie : C ould be like fate or something. If you believe in that kind of stuff.
Buck paused. Stared at the screen again. Fate? He shook his head at himself, but his smile didn’t fade.
Maybe.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating, before he added, Sorry again. Hope you have a good Saturday, mystery Eddie.
Eddie: Same to you, accidental Buck.
Buck laughed again, softer this time, like the sound was just for him. He set his phone down gently and leaned back against his pillows.
The headache was still there and his loft was still teetering on the edge of too quiet for his liking. He still didn’t know what the hell he was doing with his life or why it felt like every time he tried to build something, the ground shifted underneath him. But for a second, it didn’t feel so heavy.
For a second, there was someone else on the other end of a message, someone who hadn’t asked for him but didn’t seem to mind that he showed up anyway.
He didn’t know who Eddie was. Didn’t know where he lived or what he did or why he was up answering wrong number texts on a Saturday morning. Didn’t know why Buck wanted to text again. Or if he would.
But maybe.. Maybe he would. Maybe he was right and fate did have a weird sense of humor.
And maybe that was okay.
—
Buck made it to the end of his shift without losing his temper, but it was a close call.
The kid in the SUV had been texting when he plowed through a red light, hitting a cyclist and crashing into a line of parked cars. Buck had been the first one jumping out of the rig and falling into the scene, pulling twisted metal away with his sweat still dripping down his face from the last call, his adrenaline barely faded.
The cyclist didn’t make it.
It wasn’t even mid-day yet.
Chim had clapped him on the back as their shift ended and offered to grab a drink with him, but Buck said no. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to sit at the bar and pretend that a beer would make it all better, would fix the mess in his mind. He just wanted quiet and the safety of his own loft where he could fall apart if he wanted to.
He drove home alone, choosing not to even turn on the radio. His legs were sore. His hands ached. His brain was buzzing, and not in the good way.
When he got back to the loft, he showered until the water went cold, leaned his forehead against the tile, and just stood there for as long as his body let him. Stood under the spray until his fingers were pruny and legs couldn't hold him up anymore. It didn't help.
Afterward, wrapped in a towel and barely dry, he picked up his phone. His thumb hovered over Maddie’s name. Then Chim. Then Hen. He wanted– needed– someone to talk to. Yet, nothing felt right. No one felt like the person who could help him, give him more to think about than the call.
Then he scrolled further and landed on Eddie's name. It wasn’t even labeled with a last name. Just Eddie , like he and Buck had been friends for years, like they knew each other in some sort of intimate way.
Buck stared at it.
It had been a week since the wrong number thing, days since their last group of texts. It's not that they were talking all the time. It was just– Eddie was easy to talk to, so they'd traded a few messages back and forth, nothing too intense. A funny meme Buck sent when he couldn’t sleep. A picture of Eddie's breakfast, black toast on a plate with an eye roll emoji. A joke Chim had told that Eddie had laughed at. Or at least typed lmao , which Buck decided definitely counted.
He hadn’t expected to talk to him again after that first time, not really. But Eddie had answered. Every time. And Buck, well, he wasn't exactly rolling in companionship so he welcomed it with open arms. It was nice to have a friend, someone who wasn't somehow related to the 118, to his sister. Someone he could be himself with and not have to worry about being too much in some way.
Buck bit his lip, thought about it for a second longer, then typed,
Rough shift. Mind if I bug you again?
He hit send before he could talk himself out of it.
A few minutes passed. Just long enough for Buck to regret it.
Then–
Eddie: Bug away. I’ve got popcorn and no plans.
Buck actually smiled at that. You always this nice to wrong number strangers?
Eddie : Only the ones who don’t send dick pics.
Buck snorted. That had already become a running joke between them and somehow it never got old.
He curled up on the couch, still in the towel, hair dripping water down his neck, and phone balanced on his chest.
What kind of popcorn?
Eddie: Kettle corn. The good kind.
Buck : Okay, you’ve got taste.
Eddie: Don’t sound so surprised.
Buck : You just strike me as a regular butter guy. Classic. Predictable.
Eddie : You barely know me.
Buck : True. But I’m building a profile.
Eddie : Oh yeah? What else is on this imaginary profile?
Buck : Hm. Well. Based on your refusal to be weirded out by unsolicited texts, I’m guessing you’re a people person.
Eddie : Or very bored.
Buck : Same thing.
Buck tucked his chin into his knees, the chill in the air finally catching up with him. He didn’t know why he felt better. Nothing had changed, not really. The shift had still sucked. The cyclist was still dead. The kid in the SUV had cried, but that couldn't bring anyone back.
Still. He wasn’t spiraling the way he usually did. He wasn’t reaching for a distraction like three too many beers down the street or a warm body under his. He was just... here. At home. Talking.
He sent another message:
I’m a firefighter, btw. Just realized I never said that. Explains the bad days.
Eddie : Seriously?
Buck : Yup .
Eddie : That’s wild.
Buck : Wild?
Eddie : I’m in the academy right now.
Buck sat up a little straighter.
Wait, really?
Eddie : Yep. Class 231 for the LAFD. Week 9. Kicking my ass.
Buck grinned. LAFD? That was–not what he'd been expecting. He had thought Eddie would be halfway across the country or something, not close enough that they shared the same city.
No shit. That’s awesome. What made you want to join?
There was a pause, a few minutes that ticked by with no response at all. But before Buck could think he'd done something wrong, his phone buzzed.
Long story. But I guess... I needed something to believe in again.
Buck’s smile faded a little, softened at the edges. He knew that feeling.
That’s a good enough reason, he typed back. Honestly? You picked the right place. It’s hard, but it’s worth it.
Eddie : I want to believe that.
Buck : You can. Hell, if you ever want help studying or prep for your interviews or anything, I’m around. Not just bad day venting. I’m the full package.
Eddie : You offering to be my mentor?
Buck : Don’t make it weird.
Eddie : I think you were already doing that when you started building my personality profile.
Buck laughed again, the tension in his shoulders finally fully easing.
Maybe. But I’ve got years of field experience, he sent. And excellent taste in kettle corn. You could do worse.
Eddie : That’s true. You are very polite .
Buck : And modest. Don’t forget modest.
Eddie : A real catch.
Buck didn’t reply to that right away. He let the words sit there, stupid and light and comforting in a way he hadn’t expected. Not quite flirty, but tinged around the edges. And that was…. something. He hadn't really expected to cross that line with Eddie, but, maybe…he shook his head not wanting to let his thoughts stray that far.
Instead of answering immediately he stood up, finally dragging on sweats and an old thread bare t-shirt from highschool. Then he managed to grab a protein bar from the cabinet before settling back on the couch and whipped his phone back out.
Thanks for answering tonight. I didn’t want to talk to anyone who knows me.
Eddie : Then you picked the right stranger.
Buck : You’re not that much of a stranger anymore.
Eddie : No?
Buck : Not if you’re gonna be a firefighter. That makes us like... coworkers in spirit. Or something.
Eddie : Brothers in arms?
Buck : Okay now you’re making it weird.
Eddie : Pot, meet kettle.
Buck laughed into the dark, head tipping back against the couch cushion. His phone buzzed again.
Eddie : I meant it though. If you ever need to vent, I don’t mind. I get it.
Buck stared at the screen.
He didn’t know what this was. Some random guy who answered a wrong number and didn’t treat him like a burden. Who didn’t know about his childhood or Abby or his work or how he always screwed everything up. Who wasn’t connected to his mess.
Eddie was just a guy with popcorn, going through the same training Buck had clawed his way through years ago. Who answered a wrong number and then decided he'd keep answering.
Maybe that was why it mattered.
He typed, slower this time, but still putting as much thought as possible into the message. Probably trying too hard.
Thanks. Really.
Eddie : Anytime .
Buck put the phone down, face warm. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or whether this thing with Eddie was just a weird coincidence he’d eventually forget.
But tonight, he felt a little less alone.
And that was enough.
—
Buck: Morning, man. How’d the study session go last night?
Eddie: Not bad. I think I finally get the difference between offensive and defensive fire tactics.
Buck: That’s the hardest part. Took me ages to wrap my head around it.
Eddie: Thanks again for sending me those notes. You’re a great accidental mentor.
Buck: Only the best for my favorite accidental student.
Eddie: Haha, well. Guess I'm lucky you got the wrong number.
Buck: Yeah. Me too.
—
Buck was halfway through a mediocre sandwich and a documentary he wasn’t really watching when his phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Eddie: Hey—random ask, but does the offer to help study still stand?
Buck smiled before he even finished reading the message.
Always. What do you need help with?
Eddie: Written exam. My brain’s mush. I’ve got a week and it’s not clicking the way I need it to.
Buck: You free tomorrow? We could meet up somewhere. Easier to explain stuff face to face.
The typing bubble popped up immediately, barely a minute after the message was sent.
Eddie: Yeah. That’d be great, actually. Coffee shop?
Buck: You pick. I’ll be there.
Eddie sent an address in Echo Park and a time– 11am–and Buck felt strangely nervous the moment it was locked in.
They hadn’t even talked on the phone, let alone met in person. But Buck already knew the way Eddie texted when he was tired. Knew he liked kettle corn and that he was self-deprecating but funny, and serious when it counted. He’d gone from a wrong number to something like a presence in Buck’s life so fast, it barely made sense. But Buck didn’t question it. And this just seemed like a logical next step.
When he walked into the coffee shop the next morning, small, wood-paneled, the smell of cinnamon and espresso hitting him like a warm hug, he spotted Eddie right away. Or at least who he thought must be Eddie considering he was wearing an LAFD academy T-shirt with a stack of manuals in front of him at a small table.
He looked… normal. Which was somehow a relief. After all, there was always the chance that he had been lying, that Eddie wasn't who he'd presented himself as.
But get there he was, in that navy t-shirt, tight jeans, and a short military-style haircut that made sense now that Buck saw him. Strong jaw, dotted with stubble and he was flipping through a stack of notes, one leg bouncing under the table.
Buck approached, smiling.
“Eddie?”
The man looked up, surprised for a second, then smiled back. “Buck?”
They shook hands. It was quick, firm and familiar.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Eddie said as Buck sat down across from him. “I wasn’t sure if you were serious about the whole studying thing.”
“I’m always serious about saving people from written exam misery,” Buck said, grinning. “Besides, I had to pass that thing too. It nearly killed me.”
Eddie snorted. “Great. That’s reassuring.”
“You get through it. I’ll help.”
Eddie pushed his notes across the table, already color-coded and marked up in the margins. “It’s mostly scenario-based stuff that’s tripping me up. Like, I know the protocols, but when they get buried in a paragraph of confusing wording, I blank.”
Buck leaned in, scanning the page. “Okay, yeah. That’s normal. They make the questions harder than they need to be on purpose. It’s not about memorizing. It's uh– more about thinking like a firefighter. Priorities. Safety. Chain of command. That kind of stuff.”
Eddie nodded, listening closely, eyes focused. Buck liked the way he paid attention, really paid attention. There was something steady about him. Something quiet and calm that made Buck want to lean into it.
They worked through the first set of questions together, Buck offering small tips and Eddie testing himself out loud. Twenty minutes in, the nervous edge Eddie had come in with started to wear off.
“You’re good at this,” Eddie said, glancing up.
Buck shrugged, sipping his second coffee. “I’ve done it a while. And I’ve trained a few probies. Kind of comes with the territory.”
Eddie nodded slowly. “Still. Thanks. I didn’t expect the guy who texted me by accident to turn out to be a decent tutor.”
“Happy to subvert expectations.”
That earned him a small smile, soft, and a little more real than the ones from earlier.
They kept working. Talked shop a bit. Buck told a story about a training drill gone wrong from when he was in the academy, complete with foam hose failure and an instructor who slipped in fake smoke. Eddie laughed so hard he nearly spilled his own coffee.
It was easy. Shockingly so.
And when there was a pause, Buck leaned back and asked, “So what made you want to join the academy, anyway? You never said.”
Eddie hesitated. Not in a closed-off way, but more like he was searching for the right words.
“My son,” he said finally.
Buck blinked. “You’ve got a kid?”
“Yeah. Christopher. He’s seven. Smart as hell. Braver than I ever was.”
There was a glow to Eddie’s voice when he said it. Not boastful, just proud. He pushed his phone over, his lock screen a photo of him in army fatigues hugging a little boy with curly hair close, a pair of red crutches balanced on Eddie's knees.
Buck’s chest went a little warm. “That’s awesome. He's adorable. So…he was the reason for the change?
Eddie nodded. “I was in the army before. Then bounced around for a bit. But I needed something that felt solid. Something I could show him, you know? I want him to see me doing something that matters.”
Buck understood that more than he could say. He might not have a kid, but he knew what it was like to need something to fight for, something that felt like it mattered.
“I get that,” he said. “Honestly, that’s what keeps me in the job. That feeling. Like even when everything else is messy, at least this... helps people.”
Eddie looked at him for a long second. Then smiled. “Yeah. Exactly.”
They sat like that for a beat, comfortable silence layered with something unspoken.
Eventually, Eddie cleared his throat. “What about you? Why firefighting?”
Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “Long story. And probably better saved for another time.” He glanced at Eddie, lips quirking. “Maybe if you pass your exam.”
Eddie laughed. “A reward system?”
“Exactly. You get a good score, I’ll spill all the dramatic origins.”
“Deal.”
They finished the study session about forty minutes later. Eddie seemed more relaxed now, like the stress had been dialed back a few notches. When they stood to leave, Buck felt reluctant.
“You’ve got this,” he said as they stepped out into the sunlight. “Seriously. You’re already way ahead of where I was at this point.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Buck nodded. “Yeah. Just don’t psych yourself out. The department would be lucky to have you. You'll get your pick of stations.”
Eddie looked down, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. Then he smiled wider than he had the rest of the afternoon.
“Thanks, Buck.”
Buck shrugged, grinning himself. “Anytime.”
They stood there for a second longer, the late afternoon sun warming the sidewalk around them.
“You want to do this again sometime?” Eddie asked, casual but hopeful. “Even just for coffee. Doesn’t have to be all studying.”
Buck felt his heart skip in that ridiculous, unmistakable way.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”
And when they walked off in opposite directions, Buck checked his phone almost immediately, not for a new message. But just to see Eddie's name still sitting there in his recent history.
He really wasn't a stranger anymore.
—
Eddie: Okay, serious question.
Buck: Shoot.
Eddie: If you could fight a fire in any city, where would it be?
Buck: Hmm. Depends. Big city fires have their own chaos, but I love a good challenge. Maybe Seattle? Lots of hills, unpredictable weather.
Eddie: I was thinking Texas, and not just because that's where I'm from. You made me watch that stupid show and now I can't stop thinking about firefighting in Austin. Some guy in my class said he'd wanna go out to Nashville, but idk why anyone would do that?
Buck: 126 forever! You gonna binge watch and catch up?
Eddie: Caught the pilot last night. You made it sound fun.
Buck: Fun is relative. Sometimes it’s just stupid chaos. Not realistic but ya know, mindless.
Eddie: I’m okay with that.
—
Buck barely made it through two bites of his burger before Maddie narrowed her eyes at him across the diner booth.
“Okay,” she said, pointing her fork at him. “Who are you texting?”
Buck looked up from his phone, innocent. “What? No one.”
Maddie raised an eyebrow. “You’ve checked your phone five times in the last three minutes. And you smiled. You never smile at your phone unless there’s a video of a dog doing something dumb.”
Buck scoffed, setting his phone screen-down on the table. “Maybe it was a dog video.”
“ Evan .”
He sighed, dragging a fry through ketchup. “Fine. His name’s Eddie.”
“His name?”
“Yeah.” Buck shrugged, trying to make it casual. “He texted me by accident a few weeks ago. Or—I texted him, actually. Wrong number. Long story. But we kept talking, and he mentioned he was in the academy, and I offered to help him study.”
Maddie’s expression softened immediately. “That’s sweet.”
Buck nodded, eyes flicking to his phone like he couldn’t help it. “We’ve met up a few times now. At a coffee shop. Once at the library. I’ve been helping him prep for his written exam. He’s smart, just kind of in his own head about it.”
Maddie watched him, her head tilted like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“He’s got a kid,” Buck added, quieter this time, because he knew this was the thing that would maybe make Maddie question it all. “Christopher. He’s seven. He’s awesome. Funny. Smart like his dad. I’ve met him a couple times now–just like uh quick hellos. He came with Eddie to one of the study sessions, and then they invited me to this food truck thing last weekend.”
Maddie blinked again. “Wait wait wait, you’ve met his son?”
“Yeah.” Buck’s smile was soft as he explained. Chris really was the greatest kid. “He loves dinosaurs and space and apparently now thinks I’m a superhero because I showed him how to turn a hose line into a jet stream.”
Maddie was still staring. Not disapproving, but just surprised.
“What?” Buck asked, a little defensive.
“Nothing,” she said slowly. “I just didn’t realize this… guy had become a real person in your life.”
Buck didn’t respond right away. He glanced out the diner window, watching a kid on a scooter roll past as he took another bite of burger.
“He’s just easy to be around,” he said eventually. “I don’t have to explain myself with him. I don’t have to be anything. And he listens. Like, really listens.”
Maddie leaned forward on her elbows, voice gentler now. “Is he…?”
Buck looked at her.
She didn’t finish the question. She didn’t have to.
“I don’t know,” Buck said, honest. “We don’t talk about that kind of stuff. It’s not like that. Or–I–at least, I haven’t tried to make it like that. I don’t want to ruin what we do have.”
“But you like him.”
Buck didn’t answer immediately. His fingers found the edge of his napkin and folded it once, then again.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
Maddie’s face softened again, concern laced through the lines around her eyes. “Buck…”
“I know,” he cut in, looking at her again. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m not rushing into anything. I’m not trying to force something that isn’t there. I just… I feel better when I talk to him. And when I’m with him, I’m not… lonely.”
The word hung there, heavier than it should’ve been. But so real. Because he had been–lonwky– for a while now. No real friends, no partner. Just his coworkers, his boss and his sister. He loves his life, he did. But sometimes he wanted more, and he was starting to feel like he had something else besides the obvious.
Maddie reached across the table, brushing her fingers over his.
“I get it,” she said gently. “But just be careful. You’ve got a big heart, Evan. And I love that about you. But not everyone knows what to do with that.”
“That sounds like a nice way of saying I fall too fast.”
“You fall completely, ” she corrected. “Which is different. And Eddie seems great. I’m not saying he’s not. But you said yourself you don’t know where he stands. And he has a son, which means he’s got a whole world of responsibility that might not leave space for—” She hesitated. “For something more.”
Buck nodded slowly.
“I’ve thought about that,” he said. “I know it might not go anywhere. I know he might not feel the same. But… I don’t know. I don’t want to stop talking to him just because I’m afraid of something that hasn’t even happened.”
Maddie gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “Then don’t stop. Just, stay grounded. Protect your heart a little.”
Buck took a breath. Let it out.
“I’ll try.”
They ate the rest of their dinner mostly in silence, the way they did when the air between them was comfortable, when there wasn’t anything to fix. Just space held between people who knew each other down to the bone.
Later, as Buck climbed into bed, he saw a message waiting from Eddie.
Chris asked if you’d come to his school fair next Saturday. I told him I’d ask. No pressure.
Buck smiled down at the screen, heart kicking up a little too fast. Wouldn’t miss it. He hit send before he could overthink it.
Because Maddie was right. he was falling.
But this time, it didn’t feel like crashing.
It felt like flying.
—
Eddie: Rough day. Feeling like I’m drowning in protocols.
Buck: Happens to the best of us. Remember, you don’t have to memorize every detail, just know where to find them.
Eddie: Easier said than done.
Buck: Want me to quiz you tonight?
Eddie: Bring it on. I’m ready for a challenge.
Buck: That’s the spirit.
—
Buck settled into the worn leather chair at Eddie’s small apartment, the afternoon sun filtering in through the blinds and casting stripes of light across the floor. The place smelled faintly of coffee and something faintly spicy, like cinnamon or cloves. It was cozy. Nothing fancy, but warm. Homey. Buck found it funny that somehow Eddie's apartment after only a handful of visits felt more like home than his own loft.
Eddie was already in the kitchen, fiddling with the coffee maker. Buck had been here twice before, mostly for study sessions, but this time felt different. Less about the exam, more about... something he wasn’t quite ready to name yet.
“You want cream? Sugar?” Eddie called out over his shoulder.
“Black’s good,” Buck said, scanning the shelves. A few framed photos caught his eye. Chris with a wild grin, an older man in uniform, and a snapshot of two men laughing over a campfire, one of which looked like it may have been a younger version of Eddie himself. Buck’s gaze lingered longer than he meant to.
Eddie noticed and raised an eyebrow, coming back with two mugs of steaming coffee. “Curious?”
Buck chuckled, trying to play it off. “Just... looks like you’ve got a good life.”
Eddie sat down across from him, setting the mugs on the small table. “I try. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.”
The conversation lulled, comfortable but filled with unspoken things. Buck took a sip, eyes meeting Eddie’s.
“Yoy wanna ask something “ Eddie said, no question in his voice. “Go for it. I know my life is…complicated.”
Buck waited for a moment, eyes tracing over the photos again. There was one, tucked in the back, that looked like it was taken from afar at a lake. Water stretched out before two figures, their backs to the camera. One looked like Eddie, skinnier and hunched a bit, his arm flung over a woman with mousy brain hair, her face turned toward him and caught mid-laugh.
“Chris’ mom?” He found himself asking before he could stop himself.
“I’m divorced,” Eddie said finally, voice cautious. “His mom and I, Shannon– we’re good now, but it was– it was rough for a while. We were young and didn't know who we really were. Not separate and certainly not together.”
Buck nodded slowly. “That sounds... hard.”
“It was,” Eddie admitted. “But what made it harder was that I’m gay. That’s why the marriage didn’t work. I couldn't–I– I didn't want to lie anymore. We had Chris young, we weren't even out of high school yet when she got pregnant. And I just– it took a long time but when I did we got divorced and I moved here and well…yea thats–thats the story.”
Buck blinked, taking it in.
“That’s why I haven’t really brought it up,” Eddie said quickly, reading Buck’s face as negative. “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to–I don't know, change things. It's just–”
“I'm bi,” Buck felt the words leaving his mouth before he could think it through. “I haven't exactly like told anyone but it's–yea so I get it. I know.”
Eddie smiled, a little relieved. “I wasn’t sure if I should open up about that. I guess I’m still figuring out how to talk about it sometimes.”
Buck reached out, gave Eddie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
“Thanks, Buck.”
They sat together for a long moment, the quiet stretching between them in a way that was full but not awkward. Just two people connected in a way that Buck had only imagined before.
He realized that this… This friendship with Eddie? It was something he hadn't dared hope for before.
Something real.
—
Buck: So... any plans this weekend?
Eddie: Taking Chris to the park. What about you?
Buck: Might catch a game with Chim. But I’m free if you want to grab coffee again.
Eddie: Coffee sounds perfect.
Buck: It’s a date then.
Eddie: I like the sound of that.
—
Buck was halfway through cleaning his turnout gear when his phone rang. The screen lit up with Eddie’s name, and Buck's heart skipped a beat. It was a weird but welcome flutter that had become familiar lately. The flirting had turned up since they came out to each other and although they hadn't crossed a line, Buck could feel himself falling more everyday.
He wiped his hands on a towel and answered before it could ring more than twice.
“Hey,” Eddie’s voice was warm, a little breathless, like he’d been holding it in or running a marathon.
“Eddie. What’s up? You sound like you’ve got news.”
There was a pause on the other end. Then, “I passed. The written exam. I actually passed.”
“Hell yea, man! That’s amazing.”
“Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you. Seriously.”
Buck shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “You earned it. You worked your ass off.”
“I know,” Eddie laughed, relief spilling through his words. “And I want to celebrate. If you’re up for it, I’d like to take you out sometime. Like a proper date.”
Buck’s grin grew, warmth spreading through him in a way that had nothing to do with the gear drying on the rack beside him.
“That sounds… really nice,” Buck said, voice a little softer, trying to prove that he was all in, that this was something he wanted too.
Eddie cleared his throat. “I mean, no pressure. If you’re busy or not interested, I get it.”
Buck shook his head, even though Eddie couldn’t see him. “No, I’m good with that. I want– that–yea I– yes.”
They talked a bit more, the easy back-and-forth of two guys who were still figuring things out but were clearly on the same page.
After the call ended, Buck sat down on the edge of the bench behind him, heart pounding in a way that felt like both a warning and a promise.
He wasn’t just interested anymore.
He was head over heels.
And as he stared at the wall in front of him, the soft glow of his phone screen casting a soft glow, all he could hope was that this feeling—this wild, unsteady, exhilarating feeling—would last.
He had a date. A date with Eddie. And that was something he could barely believe was real.
—
Eddie: You still coming over tonight?
Buck: Yeah. Just finishing laundry. You want anything on the way?
Eddie: Nah. Just you.
Buck: Smooth.
Eddie: I’ve been practicing.
Buck: In the mirror?
Eddie: In my head. Since Tuesday. Since you kissed me goodbye and then tripped over my front step like a baby deer.
Buck: That was graceful. You just don’t understand my moves.
Eddie: I understand you were flustered.
Buck: Okay, yea. I was flustered. You looked at me like I was the best thing you’d ever seen.
Eddie: You were.
Buck: Jesus. Warn me before you say stuff like that.
Eddie: What, so you can swoon safely?
Buck: Exactly. I could’ve dropped the detergent.
Eddie: God forbid.
Buck: You’re in a mood tonight.
Eddie: I miss you.
Buck: I saw you two days ago.
Eddie: Still miss you.
Buck: Yeah. I miss you too.
Eddie: Chris asked about you last night, about me dating you.
Buck: What’d you tell him????
Eddie: The truth. That we went on a date, but we’re being careful. He’s excited.
Buck: That’s good.
Eddie: You make it easy to want to get it right.
Buck: Okay. I’m officially abandoning laundry. OMW now.
Eddie: Thought that might do it.
Buck: You better be waiting at the door. I’m gonna need that look again.
Eddie: Which one?
Buck: You know the one. The one that makes me want to kiss you stupid.
Eddie: Good. I had hoped it worked.
—
Buck pushed open the door, letting the familiar mix of leather, engine grease, and early morning chatter greet him like an old friend. The station was alive with its usual controlled chaos; radios crackling, boots thudding on concrete, quiet conversations punctuated by laughter and the occasional shout. But today, Buck wasn’t joining in the normal banter and conversations. Because today the 118 was getting yet another new probie that was meant to be Buck's partner. But, forgive him if he wasn’t exactly excited. He’d trained 4 new probies over the last year and each one had washed out. He was starting to think it might just be him. What were the odds of having 4 duds in a row?
Near the center of the bay stood Bobby, leaning casually against the wall, a warm smile playing at the edges of his mouth. That smile was something Buck hadn’t seen much lately. The soft, hopeful, and full of an energy one that made the room feel just a bit brighter.
“Morning, Buck,” Bobby said, his voice steady but with an unmistakable excitement underneath.
“Morning, Cap,” Buck replied, careful to keep his tone neutral. But he caught the unmistakable twinkle in Bobby’s eyes.
“You heard we’re getting a new probie?”
Buck sighed, shoulders slumping just a little. “Yeah. I heard.”
“And you’re probably thinking, ‘Not another one,’ right?” Bobby's smile didn’t falter as he spoke, in fact it was fading into something that Buck would almost call a smirk if he was paying closer attention.
Buck gave a tired chuckle. “After the last few, it’s hard not to.”
“I get it. The last few were… tough. But this one is different, promise.”
Buck raised a brow, curiosity prickling despite the weight pressing down on him. He may not be excited at the prospect of yet another new probie that was destined to wash out, but he was still a bit curious at what made Bobby so excited about this one. The attitude was different from what Buck was used to from his Captain, who was usually all business when it came to introducing the new recruits.
Bobby took a slow breath, his gaze drifting to the opposite corner where a figure was just coming into view. “Sometimes the right fit just wanders into your office one day.”
Buck’s heart skipped as the man stepped into the bay, a light smile on his face–Eddie.
For a moment, neither moved. The buzz of the station seemed to fade into silence as Buck’s eyes locked onto Eddie’s, watching as his boyfriend’s face softened into something almost shy, eyes warm and steady as he looked at Buck.
Without thinking, Buck closed the distance between them, arms reaching out, pulling Eddie into a gentle embrace. Eddie stiffened briefly, surprise mingling with relief, before returning the hug, holding Buck like he’d been waiting to do just that.
When they pulled apart, Buck searched Eddie’s face, his own smile wide and soft. “You’re here.”
Eddie nodded, a flicker of nerves behind his steady eyes. “I am. Someone convinced me that the 118 was the best station in LA. Figured if I was gonna do this, I should do it with the best, right?
“Welcome to the team, Eddie,” Bobby said as he stepped behind him, clapping him on the back. “Just–let’s all keep int professional at work, okay?”
“You didn’t tell me you applied here,” Buck said, voice quiet but full of wonder.
Buck looked back at Eddie, feeling something settle into place, a gentle certainty. “Looks like this is really happening.”
Eddie smiled, reaching for Buck’s hand. “It is.”
The three of them stood there a moment longer; Buck feeling the weight of the past lifting, replaced by hope, belonging, and something sweetly, quietly new.