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Buck knew he looked like he got his ass beat.
Probably because he did, in fact, get his ass beat.
It had happened on shift the night before. They’d been responding to a call at a bar, and while trying to defuse a situation - which didn’t even have anything to do with the call, but Buck couldn’t just ignore it - Buck himself had become the target of a man who wasn’t only bigger than him, but also had clearly had fighting experience that Buck completely lacked.
By the time his coworkers had helped him subdue the very drunk man, Buck had taken a good few blows. His lip was split, and he had a black eye and a deep purple bruise on his jaw. He had a few other bruises under his shirt. It ached, the way the blood pooled under his skin, the way the purplish-red of the already developing marks looked in the mirror in his bathroom that morning.
But more than anything, it felt like a hit to his ego.
Buck was a firefighter. He was supposed to be this big strong hero, but all it had taken was one man more experienced than him to render him useless. He had thought the academy would teach him everything he needed, he had thought getting strong and building his stamina would be enough to protect the people around him.
It didn’t feel like it was anymore. Which was how he ended up here.
Buck eyed the building in front of him, the boxing gym tucked between a clothing store and a smoothie place. He had settled on this one after an extensive Google search that included reading entirely too many reviews. People had a lot of good things to say about the trainers here - one in particular seemed to really impress reviewers.
He let out a heavy sigh and tugged the door open, walking inside.
It smelled like that mix of sweat, Lysol, and rubber that most gyms did. It was pretty empty, one person hitting a bag and two people sparring. Buck can hear a song playing that was vaguely familiar, but felt completely out of place for the setting.
“What a man, what a man, what a man / What a mighty good man (you can say it again, now)”
A man approached Buck, and he felt his mouth go dry. The man had brown hair that looked fluffy despite the sweat at his roots, a few strands falling over his forehead. He was a little more muscular than Buck, as was shown off by the black muscle tee he wore. It left Buck with a deliciously clear view of his biceps and the slight sheen of sweat on his tan skin. His brown eyes ran over Buck appraisingly, lingering on the clear bruises on his face.
“What a man, what a man, what a man / What a mighty good man (he’s a mighty, mighty good man)”
A somewhat exasperated grin suddenly split the man’s face and he turned to look over his shoulder at the woman at the desk off to the side of the entrance. “Soph, what the hell are you playing? I thought we told you to stick with the playlist James made.”
Buck was glad the man’s eyes were off of him for a moment, because he really felt thrown for a loop by how incredibly attractive he found this man in front of him.
Which was crazy. Buck liked women. A little too much probably, considering he’d almost gotten fired over some hookups. Sure, he’d stolen the ladder truck to get to said hookups, but he still secretly felt like Bobby trying to fire him was a little extreme. Admittedly, it had scared him straight, which was probably the man’s intention.
At the moment, though, Buck wasn’t feeling very straight. Scared or otherwise.
Buck suddenly realized that the man was looking at him expectantly, like he had just asked something and was waiting for an answer. Buck swallowed hard and gave the man a sheepish smile.
“Uh, sorry, what?”
“I’m assuming you’re here for a lesson?” the man repeated, looking a little amused in a way that made Buck’s cheeks warm.
“Uh, yeah, how-”
“Looks like someone did some damage,” he remarked casually, his gaze lingering on the bruises on Buck’s face again. “Are you planning revenge or something?”
Buck gave a little huff of laughter that was part amusement and part nerves. Why the hell was this man making him feel so… unsteady? “Not quite. I’m a firefighter, so I figure I should probably be better prepared in case someone gets aggressive again.”
“A firefighter, huh?” He seemed surprised, and Buck was used to that - he’d been told he looked more like a frat boy than a first responder. “Well, I’m Eddie. Lucky for you, I have the next hour free. If you wanna start now.”
There’s something like a challenge in his brown eyes, like he doesn’t expect Buck to be willing to dive right in. Buck’s gaze flickered between Eddie’s extended hand and his face. Buck gave a smile that he knew was more confident than he felt, and he reached out to give Eddie a firm handshake.
“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m Buck.”
-
Over the next several weeks, Buck went to Eddie’s gym twice a week. He incorporated the boxing lessons into his usual workout routine, and he could feel himself getting stronger. He was apparently getting better at the self-defense Eddie was teaching him, at least according to Eddie himself.
Buck wasn’t sure how, considering he could never seem to focus on anything beyond how hot he found his trainer. And when Eddie would tell him he’d done a good job? He felt like the simple praise made his brain shut off.
Clearly, this experience was educational in multiple ways, considering the things Buck had learned about himself.
They had started to get to know each other a little bit over the weeks, exchanging bits of conversation before, during, and after their lessons. They fell into an easy rapport, exchanging banter and jokes between swings while sparring. Eddie wasn’t someone who offered up pieces of himself and his past easily, but Buck had managed to gather bits and pieces - Eddie was originally from El Paso, had moved to Los Angeles several months ago. He’d served in Afghanistan as an army medic. The gym was owned by his little sister Sophia’s long-term boyfriend, and she worked at the desk. Being a boxing trainer wasn’t necessarily something Eddie planned to do forever but it paid the bills and gave him an outlet.
They had just finished a session, and Buck took a gulp of his water, then tried not to choke when Eddie took his shirt off to get some relief on his sweaty skin. Buck wasn’t sure how he hadn’t done something incredibly embarrassing yet considering the way this man made his brain short-circuit, but he was very thankful that he’d mostly been able to play it cool.
Even though the sight of Eddie flushed and sweaty and panting from exertion would definitely be haunting his dreams.
Buck was pointedly avoiding looking at the other man, so he happened to be looking towards the door when it opened, a woman and a little boy with glasses and forearm crutches walking in. The kid looked past him, his whole little face lighting up with an infectious smile before he called, “Dad!”
Eddie breezed past Buck, and Buck just barely managed to catch the smile on the other man’s face - a smile that’s impossibly soft and makes Buck feel like he’s about to melt into a puddle on the rubber floor of the boxing gym.
Because of course Eddie had a kid - the cutest kid on the planet, to top it off. And of course he’d walk over and pick up the boy with ease and a bright grin as he greeted, “Hey, Superman! You have fun with your mom?”
These words brought Buck’s attention away from the fact that the man he was hopelessly crushing on - as Hen had helped him figure out when he finally had to acknowledge that the stirring in his stomach when he saw Eddie wasn’t just excitement for his boxing lessons - was a DILF and he’d be losing his mind over it later. Especially because he wasn’t just a hot guy who happened to be a dad - Buck could tell from the brief interaction that Eddie was a good dad. The universe had it in for him, it was the only explanation.
Buck couldn’t help but glance at the woman that was clearly the boy’s mother, and presumably Eddie’s wife. Though, Buck had never seen a ring on Eddie’s finger - not that he’d looked, or anything. Eddie probably just took it off for work. Buck tried to ignore the rising tide of disappointment filling his chest and he went to step past Eddie and his family to go to the little cubbies where his stuff was.
Unexpectedly, Eddie spoke and made Buck stop short and turn towards the three.
“Buck, hey, this is my son Christopher,” Eddie introduced, having set the kid - who couldn’t have been older than seven - back down, though he kept a hand on his shoulder. “Chris, this is Buck - he’s a firefighter.”
Christopher looked at Buck, eyes wide with excitement behind his glasses. “Really? That’s so cool!”
Buck grinned right back at the kid, giving him a little wave. “It is a pretty cool job,” he acknowledged, gaze flickering to Eddie like he couldn’t help himself - because he couldn’t. The warmth he saw in those brown eyes made something in his chest ache.
Not wanting to be rude, Buck looked to the woman next and held his hand out for a handshake. “You must be Eddie’s wife,” he said. She exchanged a look with Eddie that held plain amusement, confusingly enough.
“Ex-wife,” she corrected, still looking a little amused. Even Eddie’s lips were twitching up at the corners. “I’m Shannon.”
Buck definitely should not have felt the relief he did at that information, but he knew by now that he was a lost cause.
He shook her hand, his cheeks flushed lightly in embarrassment at his assumption - though he’d blame it on sparring if he had to. “Uh, right, sorry. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Shannon said, her gaze running over him appraisingly before she looked at Eddie. The two seemed to have a conversation with their eyes that lasted just a second before Eddie rolled his eyes and looked away, clearing his throat.
Before anyone else could speak, Christopher was suddenly asking Buck questions about being a firefighter, and Buck indulgently answered every single one. Partially because he loved kids and had nowhere else to be, but also because it earned him a flash of that warm look again from Eddie.
Buck was so incredibly screwed.
-
It’s a few weeks later - a little over two months since the whole getting his ass beat incident - that Buck’s lessons were put to the test.
He’s not on shift this time. It does happen at a bar again, and it’s a fairly similar situation of Buck not being able to ignore something. This time, though, it’s a fairly drunk man bothering a woman that Buck saw getting more and more uncomfortable. How the hell was he supposed to just sit there? No one else was doing anything.
Buck hadn’t been expecting the guy to swing.
Beyond that first hit, though, Buck was ready and he held his own. The guy was sloppy and drunk, so Buck didn't really bother throwing punches of his own - he was just on defense and managed to keep the guy from landing any more punches until the bouncer came over and kicked him out.
Buck leaned back against the bar, his heart racing a little from the interaction. He was a little tipsy, but he felt good. Invigorated. His first thought was that he wanted to tell Eddie, like some proud student wanting their teacher’s praise. Which wasn’t far from the truth he supposed.
“Looks like someone’s been training you well.”
Buck turned so quickly it almost made him dizzy, eyes wide with shock. He genuinely wondered for a moment if he had somehow summoned Eddie with the power of thought.
Eddie was grinning at him in the way that made his knees weak, sat at a bar stool that Buck swore was empty a few minutes ago.
Buck grinned at him in return, desperately ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.
“Eh, he’s alright,” he said, tone lightly teasing as he took a sip of his beer.
He almost choked as Eddie suddenly leaned closer, a hand extended. He swallowed thickly as Eddie’s thumb swiped over his cheek, the slight sting letting Buck know that the man’s first punch had broken skin - probably because of the ring he was wearing.
“You’re bleeding a little,” Eddie said casually, like the proximity and touch were nothing. A touch that Buck had been craving for weeks, a touch that was more gentle than he had expected. A touch that felt like it awakened a hunger Buck didn’t know existed.
“Uh, it’s- Ye-yeah um it’s fine,” Buck managed, knowing his cheeks were flushed and he probably looked like an idiot.
But Eddie just looked amused - not in a mean way. There was something soft in it.
Maybe it was that look that gave Buck the courage, though he was sure him being a little tipsy still had something to do with it. Either way, the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could think better of it.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Eddie’s face split into a smile that made Buck feel warm all over. “Thought you’d never ask.”