Archive of Our Own ^beta

The flames were under control, but black smoke rolled thick and heavy as it poured from the venue doors. Sweat stinging his eyes, Buck headed back inside.

"Fourteen people still unaccounted for." Bobby's voice crackled down the radio. "Find them and get out, we need to assess the stability of the building."

"Got it, Cap," Buck said, pulling the radio against his visor.

Navigating inside the building was difficult, the dense smoke choking visibility even with his lamps. Striding through the empty rows of seats, Buck circled the abandoned ring coated in a layer of sooty rubble, and moved towards the stands at the far side of the room.

A cluster of people emerged through the gloom, and Buck knew he'd found all the missing people. A quick headcount confirmed it as he tramped towards them. "What's the hold up here?" he called, bellowing across the white roar of flames. "Time to move, people!"

"We're working on it," a steady voice replied. Turning towards it, Buck discovered the problem—a few people were blocking the rest from escaping. "I've got injured here."

Scooting up to them, Buck ducked down. "What's the problem?"

"The stands collapsed here," a man said, gesturing. "I've got two suspected breaks and a lot of minor injuries."

Glancing at him, Buck did a second-take. "You're not a first responder."

The man did not look at him. "Correct," he said. "You take the girl, I'll help the big guy."

Buck blinked. "Um," he said. "No. You need to get out of here and let us do this."

"We're wasting time." Without waiting for an answer, the man—who was naked around a pair of small shorts and sneakers—hefted another man off the ground and slung him into a hold across his shoulders; he hissed a screech of pain but did not resist. Then the shirtless man called, "Anyone who can walk, follow me!"

"Wait!" Buck snapped. "The smoke can turn you around, let me lead."

Finally, the man's eyes settled on Buck, boring through his visor. Hunched beneath the weight of the fellow he was carrying, he said calmly, "Lead, then."

Briefly inspecting a young woman who was crying on the floor, Buck slipped his arms around her. Cradling her, he lifted her and turned, heading back the way he'd come. He hollered so the group would hear him. "Stay close, everyone!"

Minutes later, he burst back into the bright, fresh air and moved towards the triage area, briefly turning to make sure everyone had followed him out.

A stream of people trailed behind him.;he counted again—everyone was safe.

A section of the car park had been commandeered for triage, and Buck lowered the girl he was carrying down, setting her on the curb. It was obvious she had a broken leg.

He turned to help the mostly-naked man with his patient, but he'd already shucked out from beneath him and was peering into the man's eyes as he took a pulse rate. "What are you doing?" Buck asked.

"Shh."

"We have paramedics here, you should be getting checked out yourself."

"I was a medic in the army," the man muttered. "I can help."

"That's great," Buck agreed. "But you're not on duty here, soldier. You're an emergency victim who could have smoke inhalation because you didn't evacuate when you should have."

The man glanced at him. His bare chest was sweat-damp and smudged with ash.

Shoving his visor up and yanking off his helmet, Buck tried not to look as he shook his hair out.

Cocking his head, the man asked in a light tone, "You gonna check me out?"

"I'm not a paramedic," Buck said, then realised too late what he was actually being asked. A slow grin stretched across his mouth. "But I'd be happy to give you a once over."

"Hm."

Suddenly Buck stilled, peering at the man sharply. "Hey," he said slowly. "I know you. You're Eddie Diaz!"

The man—Eddie—blinked, looking confused and taken aback. "You know me?" he repeated.

Buck flushed. "Well, I mean, we haven't met, but I recognise you. You're a boxer."

Glancing down at his bare body and little shorts, Eddie drawled, "Gee, what gave it away?"

Heat flooded Buck's face. "I mean, I've seen you fight."

"Oh." Eddie's expression brightened. "You follow the fights?"

"Well, not me." Buck stumbled over the words a little. "But my ex did. You were his favourite."

Looking nonplussed, Eddie cocked his head. "His favourite, huh?"

"To be honest, I think he had a crush on you," Buck said, words blundering across his tongue. A flirty smile drifted unbidden over his mouth. "And who can blame him?"

"Buck!" A voice called across the carpark and Buck jolted around as Bobby strode towards them. "We need you for the inspection."

"Oh." Disappointment unspooled through Buck's belly as he glanced back at Eddie. "Okay, Cap."

Studying him softly, Eddie smiled. "We can flirt later," he offered.

Grinning again, Buck reached out and closed his gloved hand briefly around Eddie's elbow. "I'll hold you to that."

"See that you do, fire-boy."

<*-*>

The instant the inspection was over, Buck bee-lined for the triage area. People were still scattered around, paramedics moving through the throng.

Approaching, Buck's eyes slid across the crowd, looking for bare skin and boxer shorts. He couldn't spot them anywhere.

Scooting over to Chimney, who was checking someone's respiration, Buck crouched down beside him. "Have you treated someone called Eddie?"

Glancing at him briefly, Chimney brushed him off. "I don't know, Buck. You're in my way."

"Sorry."

Standing, Buck moved back and glanced around again … and there, half-hidden by the open door of one of the ambulances, was Eddie. Squatting against the tarmac, he was talking with someone who looked incredibly shaken.

A swoop of emotion darted through Buck's chest and he moved closer, his stride long.

"What's your favourite flavour of jello?" he heard Eddie ask as he neared.

Blinking, Buck's step faltered a moment. Then he closed the gap, mouth parting as he listened to Eddie talk the woman through her shock with something apparently called 'jello body'. Slightly awed, he shuffled closer and only when it seemed he wouldn't be an interruption, he squatted down beside Eddie.

Flicking a glance at him, Eddie did a double take. "Oh, fire-boy. Hi." He smiled.

"Hey," Buck said, cocking his head.

"I thought you were a paramedic coming to tell me off again," Eddie said, dropping him a wink.

Buck shook his head. "What're you doing?"

Eddie shrugged. "Helping people ground." He scoped the area with an encompassing gaze. "There's a lot of people here who are upset but don't need medical support."

"Again, you know you're not a first responder, right?"

Giving him a grumpy look, Eddie grumbled, "You sound like that Wilson woman."

"Oh, you know Hen?" Buck looked around, and didn't spot her.

"We met briefly when she was telling me off," Eddie said. His shoulders heaved again. "I only know her name 'cause it was written on her coat."

"Why was she telling you off?"

"Apparently I'm supposed to wait my turn and keep out of their way," Eddie said, a lopsided grin pulling at his mouth. "But no one's watching right now."

"I'm watching."

Eddie gave him a sly, sideways glance. "Are you going to tell me off?"

Shaking his head, Buck grinned too. "Nope."

"Hm. Good." Turning back to the woman, who seemed to be only half watching them as she breathed carefully and muttered under her breath, Eddie pressed a hand to her shoulder and spoke softly. "How are you doing now?"

"Better," she gasped. "A little. Thank you."

"Just keep focusing and deep breaths until the paramedics come."

She nodded, and thanked him again as Eddie rocked back on his heels and got to his feet. Buck scrambled up beside him. "Has anyone checked you over yet?"

"I'm fine."

Buck grabbed his shoulder as Eddie made to walk away. "What if you're not?"

Smiling broadly, Eddie's eyes softened as he glanced back and met Buck's gaze. "I'm fine," he repeated, punching the words softly. "No difficulty breathing, no dizziness or shock, no sprained muscles. I'm good, fire-boy."

"My name's Buck."

Eddie watched him for a moment. "Thanks for helping me, Buck."

"What?" Nonplussed, Buck gaped at him. "You helped me."

"However it went," Eddie said. "Thanks."

"Sit down and let me check you over," Buck said.

Eddie's eyebrow quirked and the edges of his mouth flicked up. "Check me over, huh?" He cast a slow, contemplative look down his naked torso, his bare legs, then glanced up at Buck with an edge of flirtation catching his tone. "Do I need to sit down for that?"

Mouth going dry, Buck fumbled. "I … I meant, not like—"

Eddie cut him off with a laugh.

Slightly embarrassed, Buck curled one gloved hand around Eddie's bare shoulder and steered him towards the gate of the ambulance. Shoving him down against the bay floor, flanked either side by the open doors, Buck grumbled, "You need to be checked over."

"Over, huh?" Eddie repeated, his voice playful. "Well, if you insist. Although I thought you weren't a paramedic, hm?"

"I know some basics," Buck said, casting his eyes over Eddie's body and trying to remain objective. "Like this bruise across your ribs looks painful."

"I'm used to bruises," Eddie said flippantly. "I'm a brawler."

Buck didn't know what that meant, although he was sure he'd heard the word before, probably from his ex during one of the too-many fights he'd been dragged to.

"It's pretty dark," Buck said. "What if your ribs are broken? How many rounds did you fight before the fire broke out?"

"Eleven," Eddie said, hissing as Buck removed his glove and brushed his fingertips across the swollen bruise marring Eddie's skin.

"Did your ringside doctor check this out?"

"Buck," Eddie said, his voice suddenly iron strong. "I'm fine. I know my body, I know my business, and I'm okay."

"But—"

"Buck!" Hen's voice cracked through the air and Buck whipped around to see her striding over.

"Hen," Buck said, stepping aside. "Does this bruising look okay to you?"

Growling softly, Eddie crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm good, people. I thought you came over to flirt with me, not treat me like I'm broken."

Blinking, Buck's lips parted.

Hen cast a knowing look between them. "Buck, you know it never works out with people you meet on calls."

Eddie's brows hiked up his forehead. "Oh, so I'm not special then?" His tone was suddenly unreadable. "You do this a lot?"

"I …"

"Let me take a look at you," Hen said, pushing between them, and Buck hovered awkwardly, wondering how he had misstepped so significantly.

Skimming her fingers across the bruise, Hen hummed idly and moved on, checking Eddie's pulse, respiration and pupil response as Eddie sat looking incredibly grumpy.

"I don't think your ribs are broken," Hen said, stepping back. "And you don't seem to have any indicators of smoke inhalation."

"I think I told you that," Eddie muttered.

"If you notice any difficulty breathing or light headedness, go to the ER and get checked out again," Hen said.

"I won't need to do that," Eddie said. Then he raised both eyebrows. "Are we done here? I'd kind of like to, you know … get my stuff and get dressed."

Looking over her shoulder, Hen spotted Buck. "Is the building safe?"

"The locker room was untouched," Buck said. "It's safe, but you'll need an escort."

Eyes narrowing, Eddie said archly, "And I suppose that's going to be you."

"Well…"

Eddie sighed and got to his feet. "Come on, then," he said. Without waiting, Eddie strode towards the husk of the building, still puffing wispy smoke. Buck jolted and sprang after him.

"Hey, uh." Buck touched his fingertips to Eddie's elbow. "I don't pick up people on calls."

"Don't you," Eddie replied evenly.

"Okay, well, I have met people on calls, but—"

"Look." Eddie's voice brooked no argument and he stopped walking, rounding on Buck with an unimpressed glare. "I don't do hook ups and I don't do casual, so … sorry, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for."

Meeting his stare earnestly, Buck said softly, "I'm looking for serious."

Eddie arched an eyebrow.

"I mean it."

Studying him for a few beats, Eddie dropped his gaze and sighed. "I don't wanna be a fucking notch or a … a conquest."

Buck's mouth opened to deny that would be the case … but his dating history would not back him up. Pressing his lips back together, he took a moment to gather his thoughts. Softly, he said, "I used to be like that. But it never gave me what I really wanted. I'm looking for serious."

Glancing back up at him, Eddie gave him a curious look. The tiniest of twitches tickled one corner of his mouth. Then he said, "If my phone survived the fire, I'll give you my number."

<*-*>

Buck had offered to pick Eddie up for the date they scheduled after a little text-flirting. But Eddie had resolutely refused, saying he would meet Buck at the restaurant.

He had chosen his favourite Thai place. Little more than a hole in the wall, it was cramped but cosy, with outrageously delicious food.

Buck arrived to find Eddie sequestered in a dimly lit corner, a tiny tealight candle flickering in front of his folded hands. He smiled as Buck approached, a soft and genuine smile that made the light shine in his eyes. "Hey."

"Hi." Buck slipped into his seat. "You found the place okay, then?"

"Yeah," Eddie said. "Although parking around here sucks."

Buck's mouth quirked. "I offered to pick you up."

"Next time I'll take you up on it," Eddie said.

"So, how are—" Buck's question was cut off by the approach of their server, who passed them menus and put a tall bottle of water on the table between them.

"Drinks?" he asked, voice lightly accented.

"Wine," Eddie said. "Red."

The server rattled through a few options and Eddie smoothly selected one. They both turned to Buck, who wriggled one shoulder in a slight shrug and said, "I'll have the same."

"Thank you," the server said, and moved away.

Buck planted his elbows on the table and leaned towards Eddie. "How are you, then?" he tried again.

"Good," Eddie said. "You?"

"I'm great right now," Buck said, letting flirtiness enter his voice. "I'm out to dinner with you."

"Flattery won't work on me," Eddie said, but the smile playing across his mouth gave away the lie.

"We'll see." Buck grinned. "Sexy."

Raising his eyebrows, Eddie asked, "Is that the best you've got?"

"Oh, I'm just getting started," Buck said softly. "But I need to ration my charm or you may become overwhelmed."

"I wish we'd had charm rations when I was deployed," Eddie said.

Cocking his head, Buck said, "Tell me about that."

Eddie blinked. "About … charm rationing?"

"No." Buck laughed. "About deployment. What's that like?"

A strained smile stretched across Eddie's mouth. "That's a pretty heavy topic to begin our date with."

Sensing resistance, Buck sat back in his chair, giving Eddie space. "Let's start somewhere lighter, then," he offered, smiling.

For a moment, Eddie looked puzzled, before matching Buck's smile. "Why don't you start. Tell me about you."

"Where do I begin?" Buck said, feeling slightly rattled by the abrupt switch in focus.

"Well, you're a firefighter," Eddie said lightly. "That must be pretty interesting."

"Oh, it's fantastic," Buck said, and immediately, the scrap of nerves that touched him disappeared as he spoke, sharing the path that had led him to LA and the one-eighteen, before prattling into several sprawling anecdotes about wild and wonderful calls he'd supported on.

Eddie listened with a soft, wide smile as Buck talked, asked appropriate questions, and sipped his wine.

"I'm going on, though," Buck said as their server interrupted again to bring their meals. He'd barely paused talking to order, and a flush of hot blood crept around his neck.

"No," Eddie said. "I'm enjoying listening to you."

"All the same," Buck said, smiling around his embarrassment. "Tell me something about you. How'd you become a boxer?"

Shrugging delicately, Eddie downed the rest of his wine and picked up his fork, spearing a tomato with the tines. "I learned pretty early on that being an openly queer kid means having to defend yourself. I throw a mean uppercut. I got hauled across the coals for it a couple times, but one of the cops who pulled me in for fighting was sympathetic and gave me the number of his cousin, who coaches. She trained me up, put me in a few fights. I'd say the rest is history, but then I met a girl."

Buck blinked, his lips parting. "Why did that matter?"

Eddie sighed. "I got her pregnant. I wasn't earning enough, starting out like I was, to support her and a baby. So I enlisted." Eddie's expression shuttered. "I think she hated me for it."

"Oh."

"Mm."

"So …" Buck twirled his fork through the noodles on his plate. "You have a kid?"

"Yeah." Eddie's face brightened immediately. "Christopher. Wanna see?"

"Absolutely," Buck said, beaming as Eddie fished out his phone and tapped at the screen. "I love kids."

"I love this one," Eddie said as he turned the phone towards Buck. A happy selfie of Eddie with a boy grinned up at him.

"Super adorable," Buck said. He hesitated, then asked a careful question. "So, what's your situation with his mother?"

A short silence responded before Eddie did. He took the phone back and returned it to his pocket. "We separated after I finished my second tour. She's … she's dead now."

"Oh my god," Buck said. "What happened?"

"She was hit by a car," Eddie sighed. "Crossing the street."

Buck said nothing. He'd been called out to enough car crashes and hit-and-runs to know how devastating they could be.

"It was a few years ago now," Eddie went on. He scooped up some rice and shovelled it into his mouth, chewing as Buck processed what he'd said.

"Are you …?"

"Time heals," Eddie said vaguely, digging his fork into the rice again.

"I guess it does," Buck agreed.

Swallowing, Eddie gave him a lopsided smile. "Sorry," he said. "Guess it's hard to avoid the heavy topics with me."

"It's okay," Buck said quickly.

"All the same," Eddie said. "Let's change the subject."

"Alright," Buck said. "So, how'd you get back into boxing?"

Eddie threw him an indulgent, lazy sort of smile. "You sure it was just your ex who followed the fights?"

"Yeah," Buck said. "But I'm interested in you."

"I'm interested in you, too," Eddie said.

A flutter of excitement rippled through Buck's chest. "Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"I'm glad to hear it," Buck said.

The night wore on as they ate and talked and drank some more, and then shared dessert off one plate with two spoons. Buck watched the silver spoon disappear between Eddie's lips and was overwhelmed with the desperate need to kiss him.

Watching him, Eddie tipped his head slightly and murmured, "Should we get out of here?"

Eyes widening, Buck asked, "Do you mean…?"

Blinking, Eddie asked, "What?"

"Um." Buck bit his lip. "Are you inviting me home with you?"

Eddie's expression didn't change. "No."

"Oh."

"I'm not a … 'on a first date' kinda guy," Eddie said carefully.

"Ah," Buck said, soft embarrassment touching him.

"Don't worry about it," Eddie said. "But I just meant, maybe we could do something else. I'm not quite ready for the night to be over."

"Yeah?" Joy burst inside Buck, his blood fizzy with it. "What do you have in mind?"

"Let's go for a walk."

They settled the bill, squabbling for a moment over who would pay before agreeing to split it, and then they wandered down the block in the evening air, flooded by streetlight, until they stumbled across a park and stepped into it's cool, dark embrace.

Soft, night-time blossoms unleashed perfume around them as they strolled, chatting lightly, along the gravel paths. Buck bumped into Eddie a few times, their shoulders knocking together, and Eddie threw him a grin and grasped his hand. He slotted their fingers together.

Gripping him, Buck squeezed hard and kept talking.

Losing themselves in the park, they stopped by an artificial lake and watched dark ripples shift across its surface. Eddie sighed. "I should go soon," he said. "I've got to be back by ten for the sitter."

"Oh." Disappointment unspooled through Buck's belly, weighing him down. "Of course."

Turning his head, Eddie looked at him. And then, before Buck knew what was happening, Eddie's free hand curled around his head, thumb pressed to his jaw, and he urged Buck closer.

Eddie's mouth closed over his. The deep fruity dryness of the wine lingered on his lips as he pressed closer, not just with his kis, but also with his body. Crushing against him, Eddie backed Buck against a nearby tree, the rough bark scratching through his shirt and digging into his skin.

Wrapping both arms around Eddie's waist, Buck pulled him closer and deepened the kiss.

Touching Eddie's mouth with his tongue, Buck was instantly rewarded when Eddie's tongue met his, swept into his mouth. He groaned and Eddie swallowed it.

Against his chest, Eddie was warm and firm. Buck wanted more. Skimming one hand across Eddie's body, Buck felt his shapes—all hard, relaxed muscles. He trailed his fingers over the curve of Eddie's arse and gave an inquisitive squeeze. Eddie pressed into him, hips arching against Buck's.

Wondering if he could convince Eddie to change his mind about first dates, Buck huffed a shallow breath and pulled him closer—and then a cold spray of water shot up his legs, soaking through his jeans.

Eddie leapt away from him. "Fuck," he said. "Sprinklers."

Blinking, Buck struggled to reorientate to the present moment, a present moment where Eddie was not pressed against him and their tongues were no longer tasting one another. "Uh…"

"We should go." Eddie jumped as the sweep of the automatic sprinklers sprayed him again. "C'mon!"

Snatching Buck's hand with his own, Eddie led the way back out of the park, jogging briskly as laughter flowed from his mouth. They dodged and darted past the spritzing water, and burst back out onto the street damp and sweating and clinging breathlessly to one another.

Catching him, Buck looped one arm around Eddie's waist, shoved him against the park fence, and kissed him again.

Chuckling against Buck's lips, Eddie kissed him too, fingers crushing around his hand, then drew back.

Hungrily, Buck trailed a kiss, unplanned, down Eddie's throat, and was rewarded with Eddie suddenly tensing, before gently easing him back. "Not tonight," he murmured.

"Oh. Um. Sorry." Licking his lips, Buck straightened up and stared at him.

"Don't be." Smiling at him, Eddie pecked the tip of Buck's nose with kiss-swollen lips, then gestured with his chin. "We should get back. I need to call it a night."

"Okay."

Buck was glad that Eddie didn't drop his hand as they walked back to where they'd left their cars.

They lingered before saying goodnight. Kissing Eddie gently, Buck pulled back and whispered, "When can I see you again?"

Giving it quick consideration, Eddie gave him the day, and Buck's heart lurched and swooped and sank as he darted through reactions—thrilled that Eddie wanted to see him again, disappointed that he had to wait.

As though he could see it, Eddie smiled and kissed Buck's cheek. "I'm just a phone call away in the meantime," he murmured. "Goodnight, Buck."

"Goodnight," Buck whispered, and then he watched Eddie climb into his truck, give him a brief wave, and drive away.

<*-*>

"Buck?" Eddie's voice was soft down the line, barely above a whisper. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Buck said, cringing at the bright, chipper pitch of his own voice. "I'm great."

There was a pause, then Eddie's voice came down the phone again, a sly tilt to the words. "It's been an hour, are you calling just because you missed me?"

"Um…" Heat roared into Buck's face. "Ye-yes?"

Eddie laughed softly. "Okay, gimme a minute," he said. There was a rustle of movement on the other end of the line, the soft clunk of a door shutting, and then Eddie said, "Nice to know you're keen."

"I am so, so keen." Buck grinned. "Can you talk?"

"Christopher's just gone to sleep," Eddie said. "So yeah, I can. But just for a little while. I have training early tomorrow."

"Alright," Buck said, and a silence dragged between them.

Sounding amused, Eddie said, "So what did you want to talk about?"

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Buck admitted sheepishly, "Nothing in particular."

Eddie laughed again.

"Tell me about training," Buck said, fishing for the first topic that came to mind.

"Alright." Eddie started sharing, going over his training routine with a comfortable depth of detail. As someone who loved working out, Buck enjoyed it.

"Do you really use jump ropes?" Buck asked.

"Sure," Eddie said. "It's good for flexibility in the wrists and staying light on your feet. But the best way to train in my opinion is by sparring."

Buck hesitated. "Does … it hurt?"

"Sparring?" Eddie sounded a little surprised. "Well, sure, people get injuries from it. But it's like any sport, right?"

"Is it?"

"Of course."

"Seems dangerous to me," Buck said.

A wry twist entered Eddie's deadpan voice. "At least no one's shooting at me."

Buck blinked. "Ah—"

"Hey." Eddie's voice was soft. "It's getting late, I better go. I'll check in tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh. Okay."

"Goodnight," Eddie said. "I'd kiss you again if I could."

"Too bad," Buck said.

"Too bad," Eddie agreed. "Bye, Buck."

"Bye."

<*-*>

Without work the next day, Buck was in a flap trying to occupy himself. He went to the gym, came home and baked two cakes and then, still waiting to hear from Eddie, he packaged one of the cakes up and took it over to his sister.

"Buck!" Maddie beamed as she opened the door. "What brings you here?"

"Do I need a reason to see my favourite sister?"

"You don't need one," Maddie said playfully. "But I'm sure you have one."

Handing over the cake, Buck grinned softly. "I've met someone."

"Oh!" Maddie gestured him towards the kitchen and put on the coffee machine without asking. "That's exciting. What're they like?"

"He's amazing," Buck sighed. "Just amazing."

"Come and sit down," Maddie said. "I want to hear everything."

Settling at the kitchen table, Buck shared everything. Listening with intent, Maddie gave away nothing until he was done. Then she said in a purposefully light tone, "A boxer?"

"Mm," Buck said. "Yeah."

"I thought you didn't like the fights." She gave him a careful stare. "You always said how much you hated it when you got dragged to them by—"

"Yeah." Buck cut her off before she could say the name he preferred not to hear. "I know. But Eddie's worth it."

Maddie blinked slowly. "I wonder if you can know that," she said softly, "without having seen him in a fight."

"I've seen him fight before," Buck said. "A lot of times, actually."

"Yes, and then he was just a random stranger that your ex was drooling over," Maddie said. Buck flinched. "Now, he's someone you care about, getting beaten. How do you think that's going to feel to watch?"

"Well, I just won't watch it," Buck said.

Maddie cocked her head. "You don't think he's going to want to share that with you?"

Buck hadn't considered it. "I don't know."

"If it's important to him," Maddie said, "then he's going to hope it's important to you too."

"Well, it's not like it's been easy for people to cope with my work, either," Buck said, trying to deflect her. "I've had more than one person quit on me after a close call."

"Not you, Buck," Maddie said softly. "They don't quit on you."

Flicking his shoulders into a shrug, trying to dismiss the memories, Buck said, "It's the same thing in the end."

Reaching across the table, Maddie pressed his hand. "All I'm saying is, get to know this side of his life before you let yourself get too attached. You don't want to end up falling in love with someone only to find you can't handle their job. And the same goes for Eddie."

Disheartened, Buck nonetheless knew she had a point. "Alright," he agreed. "You're right."

Smiling, Maddie got up again. "Let's have some cake."

<*-*>

Buck left Maddie's conflicted and confused. He could not deny she made some excellent points, and it was certainly his impulse—and pattern—to dive headlong into things without heeding any warning signs.

By the time he made it home, he had a text from Eddie.

He couldn't help the surge of delighted excitement that flowed through his chest. Tapping out a response, he flung himself onto his couch and hoped Eddie would reply quickly.

He did.

I miss you

Buck's heart twisted and danced within his chest. He tapped out the obvious reply, grinning as he stretched out, feet up against one arm rest, head pillowed on the other. Settling in for a chat, he was slightly surprised when Eddie called him instead of texting back.

"Hey!" he said brightly, accepting the call.

"Hi," Eddie said. "I'm on my way home. Can you chat?"

"Definitely," Buck said. "How was training?"

"Fine," Eddie said. There was a tiny pause. "I want to see you again."

"You will," Buck said. "We have a date on Monday."

"Too long away," Eddie said.

"Well, I'm not gonna argue that," Buck agreed. He shifted slightly, wriggling his hips more comfortably. "So, what's the solution?"

"Chris and I are heading to the beach this afternoon," Eddie said. "You free to join us?"

Grinning, Buck said, "You bet."

They met at the shore an hour later, the heat of the day pulsing around them as Buck got out of his Jeep and jogged over to Eddie's truck on the otherside of the carpark. He was lifting a spindly looking pre-teen from the front seat, a pair of crutches leaning against the back door.

"Hey!" Eddie greeted him over the boy's flop of curls.

"Hi." Buck grinned. The boy wriggled in Eddie's arms and he carefully put him down, hand resting on his shoulder as he turned. "Hi, Christopher!"

"Hi," Christopher said. He looked just like his photo, only a few years older, and his face crumpled into a bright smile as he blinked up at Buck through spotless glasses. "You're Buck?"

"Sure am," Buck said. "It's great to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Christopher said. He threw his father a sly look. "Dad hasn't shut up about you for a week."

"Re-ally?" Dragging the word out, Buck glanced up at Eddie, who failed to stop a pink stain from brightening his cheeks. It was remarkably endearing.

"Chris," Eddie muttered, ruffling his hair. "We want Buck to think I'm cool."

Christopher looked conspiratorially at Buck and said in a stage whisper, "He's not cool. He's super bad at dating and stuff."

Reaching idly for Eddie's hand, Buck caught his fingers. Eddie squeezed, and Buck smiled. "He's doing okay so far."

Trekking down to the sand, they found a spot and set themselves up. Christopher wanted to make sandcastles, and Buck spent the first fifteen minutes carting buckets of water for him to dampen the sand, watching with slow wonder as Christopher diligently shaped the sand, sitting still only long enough for Eddie to paint a layer of sunscreen over his bare skin.

Once Christopher was set up, and had quite clearly indicated that he wanted no help with his construction, Eddie waved Buck over, the bottle of sunscreen still in his hand. "Want me to do your shoulders?" he offered.

Not about to pass up the offer to have Eddie's hands on him, Buck swallowed his grin and nodded.

"C'mere." Eddie patted the sand beside him.

Buck wanted to sit between his knees, but didn't quite dare. Easing down in the soft, sinking sand, he planted his elbows against his bent knees and shivered as Eddie squirted the cream onto his right shoulder. Warm fingers curled around his bicep and stroked upwards, moving in a wide circle as Eddie massaged the sunscreen into his skin, fingers dipping beneath the strap of his tank top.

Hand shifting, Eddie rolled his palm across the ball of Buck's shoulder and down the front, pressing across his chest. A sharp breath hissed into Buck's lungs as Eddie's fingers trailed over his pec. "Uh…"

"Mm?"

"Nothing," Buck said, and leaned back, closer, as Eddie broke into a soft laugh.

Enjoying himself, Buck let Eddie's hands track across his body as he rubbed in the sunscreen, not stopping at the shoulder but sliding down his whole arm. No one had ever touched him like this, and while it was mostly platonic—mostly—Buck's blood ran hot as Eddie's fingers touched his skin.

When Eddie was done, Buck cleared his throat and asked roughly, "Want me to, uh, do you?"

"Phrasing," Eddie said mildly, and handed the sunscreen over.

Taking his time, Buck rubbed the cream into Eddie's bare shoulders, marvelling at the curve of his biceps, the strength in his body. "You're really hot," he murmured, low enough that Christopher couldn't hear.

"Mm, it is warm today," Eddie teased.

"You know that's not what I meant," Buck said, and Eddie chuckled again. Dropping the bottle back into Eddie's beach bag, Buck tentatively changed the subject. "I told my sister about you."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie looked at him. "Nice things, I hope."

"I only have nice things to say about you," Buck confirmed.

"So far," Eddie said lightly.

Buck ignored it. "She said we should get familiar with each other's work before we get too serious."

Eddie raised a curious eyebrow. "Okay," he said slowly. "What does that mean?"

Pressing his lips together, Buck picked his next words carefully. "Well, she said it might not be that easy for me to watch you … take a beating."

Head tilting slightly, Eddie nodded. "Okay."

"And likewise, it might be hard for you to know that I'm in life-or-death danger."

Gaze flickering, Eddie took a slow breath. "Yeah. How … how common is that?"

"It depends on the shift," Buck said. "Some calls are more dangerous than others, but you know … fires are always dangerous. People get lost in the smoke, fall through rooves, are trapped by debris. And there's a lot of other big things that happen. Catastrophes. But it's not like that every day, either. Most of our calls are EMS."

Eddie hooked a questioning eyebrow.

"Emergency Medical Service," Buck clarified.

"Oh, of course," Eddie said. He frowned. "Have you ever come close to dying?"

"A couple of times," Buck said lowly. "There was a bomb in our engine that flung me out and crushed my leg. And there have been a couple of near misses in fires and stuff."

"That was you?" Eddie asked, startled. "The truck bomb? I remember that being on the news."

"That was me," Buck said. "I was seeing someone at the time … she couldn't cope with the risk. We broke up not long after it happened."

"I see," Eddie murmured. "So, are you trying to warn me off, or suss me out?"

"I don't know, really," Buck said. "But Maddie had a point when she said we should both know what it's like to live with what we do, before we get too attached."

Bowing his head, Eddie's eyebrow twitched again. "I get it," he said. "And you're worried about seeing me get hit?"

"Boxing's dangerous," Buck said. "People die in the ring."

"It's rare," Eddie said.

Narrowing his eyes, Buck asked, "How many concussions have you had?"

Eddie threw him a look that was very slightly dirty. He didn't answer, and said instead, "I don't fight as much as I used to, so the risk is lower."

"How much are you fighting?" Buck asked, genuinely curious.

Shrugging, Eddie was a little avoidant and Buck could not place why. "Five to ten times a year," he said. "Depending on travel and recovery and stuff."

"That's all? How do you afford to live?"

Eddie said, "I make sure I win."

Eyes narrowing, Buck asked, "Does that matter?"

"Well, you get paid a lot more for winning than for losing," Eddie said sardonically.

Buck blinked. "What … what do you get for winning a fight?"

Sighing, Eddie finally stopped dodging his gaze and gave Buck a thin smile. "It depends on the fight, but … I average around forty-thousand."

Jaw dropping open, Buck gaped at him. "Forty thousand dollars?"

"Yes, Buck."

"Per fight?"

"Yes."

"Oh my god," Buck said. "Are you rich?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Eddie said, shifting uncomfortably. "LA is expensive, and Chris has special needs that I get some support with, but not for everything. We also need enough savings in case I don't win for a while. We make do."

"Wow," Buck said.

Eddie's mouth was tight. "It's not that wow."

"It's more than twice what I earn in a year," Buck said. "And then only if I do a stack of overtime."

"Right."

And only then did it hit Buck what Eddie must be thinking. He blurted, "I don't want your money."

It was so abrupt and so earnest that it startled Eddie into a croaky laugh. His eyes softened. "Okay."

"I really don't," Buck said. "I was just surprised. I had no idea fighting was so lucrative."

"Prize fighters earn millions," Eddie said. "I'm small potatoes."

Skimming his gaze across Eddie's arms, Buck offered him a flirty smile. "You're not small," he said.

Eddie gave him a glittering, enigmatic smile. Buck returned it with a lascivious grin.

But they didn't follow that obvious line. Instead, Eddie dropped back into the sand, leaning on his elbows, and said, "So, you wanna see me fight?"

"I think I have to," Buck said. "Can I?"

"Of course," Eddie said. "But my next fight is three weeks away. Will you … get attached in that time?"

Reaching for Eddie's hand, covered in coarse, shining grains where it rested in the sand, Buck said, "Absolutely."

<*-*>

There was no lie in it. Over that three weeks, Buck saw Eddie eight times. They went out, they stayed in, they shared their time with Christopher. Curled together on the couch, enjoying activities together, the one thing they didn't do was sleep together.

They'd talked about it, though.

"I'm not about casual sex," Eddie had said. "And … I don't think we should take that step until we know if we can live with each other's work, like you said."

Reluctantly, Buck agreed.

He was far less concerned with waiting, but he respected Eddie's position. Simmering desire bubbled inside him, waiting for release, threatening some nights to bubble over when he was on the couch with Eddie in his lap, kissing him.

But he never pressed.

And then, finally, the day of Eddie's fight arrived.

Buck wasn't allowed to see him that day, but he was invited to spend the day with Christopher. Wondering about what Eddie was up to—he'd told Buck he had a routine for fight days that was as private as it was sacred—he took Christopher to an architecture museum, delighting in his joy as they wandered through the exhibitions.

At five o'clock, he dropped Christopher off with Eddie's tia Pepa, and took himself for a lonely dinner before heading to the venue.

Eddie had gotten him a ringside seat, right by his corner, and strict instructions not to get out of his chair at any point, for any purpose. Buck knew that well enough from the fights he'd attended with his ex, but he also knew this would be different. He had a front row seat to watch Eddie get beat up.

He had a feeling he wasn't going to enjoy it.

Squirming in his chair as Eddie emerged and entered the ring, Buck's eyes skimmed across him and drifted instead to his opponent. He was about Eddie's height, maybe an inch shorter, and well-muscled. His skin glowed beneath the lights, his wrapped fists looked enormous as he threw a few shadow punches.

Snapping his eyes back to Eddie, Buck found he was being watched. Offering Eddie a smile, he worried it was more grim than reassuring. Eddie smiled back, looking far more relaxed, and gave him a nod.

"Focus," Buck heard Eddie's coach say, and Eddie turned away again.

Buck had never seen the appeal of fights, especially watching them. He fit one thumb knuckle between his teeth as they went through the calls, and then the bell rang and the fight began.

Whether it was being so close, or whether it was his personal investment in this fight, Buck noticed things he had never seen before. He could not help but admire Eddie, his fierce, determined expression beneath the flop of his dark hair. His body was lithe and fast as he moved, and then he crowded in close, throwing a flurry of punches before his opponent managed to fling him off.

Eddie bounced back and flicked his head.

He was good, Buck couldn't deny it. He supposed if you were going to make a career out of fighting, being good at it was the safest option.

The round felt as though it went for hours instead of minutes, and when the bell sounded and Eddie retreated to his corner, slugging down a scant mouthful of water, Buck was close enough to see the sweat puddling in tiny spots across his brow.

He held his breath through the next few rounds, wincing every time a blow landed on Eddie. A sharp hook sent him ducking, reeling across the ring, and when he straightened again, there was a gash splitting his bottom lip. Swiping his tongue across it, he rounded in again, throwing himself right back into the fight.

"Fuck," Buck hissed. Inside, his belly roiled with fear and discomfort. Eddie was hurt, and every instinct in him was to jump the ropes, dive into the ring, and pull Eddie to safety.

But Eddie was clearly very in control of things. He wasn't rattled, his body moved smooth and efficiently, and he wore each punch easily.

Taking slow breaths, Buck tried to reassure himself. This was what Eddie did. He could handle it. He had to.

They were seven rounds in when Eddie took a hard blow across the temple and went down.

Buck was on his feet before he even realised he was moving. He made it one step before a nearby security guard was in his way. "Back in your seat," he said, not unkindly, but very firmly.

"Oh…" Pressing his lips together, Buck sank back in his chair and leaned forwards, eyes glued to Eddie as he eased himself up again.

Giving his head a shake, Eddie wobbled and looked dazed.

Buck held his breath, teeth sinking into his tongue. He could almost taste Eddie's blood as a cut above his eye dripped a scarlet river down his face.

Eddie was not deterred. He took one unsteady step, then another, more determined one, and swung a wide punch that struck his opponent in the ribs. Dancing in close, he sent a series of hooks in fast progression, until the other man caught him in a clinch and the referee moved in to break them up.

The bell sounded. The round ended.

Eddie didn't quite move in a straight path back to his corner, and Buck was tempted to leap up again, tempted to dive forwards and check him over. That privilege belonged to the ringside doctor, who flashed a pen light in both of his eyes, dabbed some glue to the cut on his head, and clapped him on the shoulder.

Buck didn't want Eddie to lose, but he didn't want him to fight another five rounds with an obvious concussion. He had no idea how the points worked, though his ex had tried to explain it to him many times, but he did know Eddie would not win if he got knocked out.

The bell sounded, and Eddie got back up to fight. He looked steadier, more focused. His punches landed square, and as Buck watched with his breath held, he noticed that the opponent was flagging. His breath was high in his chest, his punches coming slower. But when he swung at Eddie's head again, Buck made an audible noise, air hissing through his teeth as Eddie successfully dodged.

Righting himself, he swung a fierce left-handed swing upwards.

It connected.

The man's head snapped back. Buck was so close, he saw the whites of his eyes show, and then he crumpled like an empty sack and collapsed onto the mat.

The referee made the count.

The opponent stirred, but didn't get up.

Buck breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to get up and check on the man on the floor, make sure he wasn't badly hurt. The doctor climbed into the ring and made some checks, before helping the man to his feet and escort ing him back to his corner. He looked dazed and unfocused.

Buck glanced at Eddie. Eddie was watching him.

He looked okay. Relief washed through Buck's body and he sagged down in his seat.

The fight was called, with Eddie announced the unambiguous winner. And then it was over, people filtering out of the venue. Buck tentatively approached Eddie as he slipped through the ropes and took a step towards him.

"Hey," Eddie said, opening his arms.

"Hey," Buck echoed, stepping into his grip. He dropped his head onto Eddie's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eddie said. For a moment, they held each other, and then Eddie tensed and eased him back.

"Evan!"

The voice lashed between them like a crack of a whip.

Buck knew that voice.

This had never occurred to him—and feeling like an utter idiot, he realised it should have. Of course he was here, he went to almost all of Eddie's fights. Seeing him here suddenly felt inevitable.

Swallowing, Buck turned and pasted a smile across his face. "Hi," he said, striving for an even tone.

Eddie's eyes were on him. Buck felt the sharpness of his stare.

Striding down the stairs between the seats, his ex loomed in front of them. "I didn't expect to run into you at a fight," he said. "You never seemed to take to it when we were together."

"Well—"

A gaze flicked between him and Eddie. Buck knew his ex well enough to know it was suspicious. "Do you two … know each other?" he asked, voice deceptively neutral.

"I'm his boyfriend," Eddie said smoothly. It was the first time he'd said it. Delight tangled with a strange sense of embarrassment stained Buck's face with a hot flush. Tipping his weight into one foot, Eddie slid one hand into the small of Buck's back. "You must be the ex."

Those familiar, unwelcome eyes suddenly locked on Buck and only Buck. "You're … dating?"

Buck nodded, biting his lip.

"You're dating Eddie Diaz?!"

"Yes," Eddie said. "He is."

A horrible expression crossed his ex's face, something accusatory and disbelieving. An unkind curl touched his words. "How did that happen? How did you even meet?"

"We met on a call," Buck muttered.

His ex's tone turned scathing—and patronising. Beside him, Buck felt Eddie bristle. "Oh, Evan. You know it never works out with people you meet on calls."

"It's not like that," Buck mumbled.

"Uh huh."

Leaning in, Eddie kissed Buck's cheek, lingering a second longer than was strictly necessary. Then he said, "Doesn't matter how we met." His voice was low and sultry, a bedroom tone. "All that matters is you traded up."

Blood pounded against Buck's ears, and an angry, embarrassed look crossed his ex's face. "Excuse me?"

"Well, look at you," Eddie said. He did not elaborate, but simply swung his arms out, stretching tired muscles, and said, "Anyway, you better go before security kicks you out. Bye bye."

His mouth opened, and closed as Eddie gestured to the hovering security guard who had sat Buck down. As he moved towards the ex, the man threw his hands up, shot Buck a poisonous look, and walked away.

The instant he left the room, Buck turned towards Eddie. "Um."

"Your ex is a dick," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Buck said. "Sometimes, I guess. But everyone can be."

Eddie gave him a complicated look, then sighed. "I need to cooldown and then there'll be a proper doctor's check and some interviews. Are you … gonna hang around?"

"Am I allowed to?" Buck asked.

Nodding, Eddie looped his arm through Buck's, and led him through the venue to the locker rooms. There, Buck chatted vaguely with Eddie's coach as Eddie went through some light cooldown exercises and had a proper check over with a doctor.

"Mild concussion," she said, then prodded Eddie's face with her gloved fingertip. "Glue seems to be okay on this. I'll put a couple of Steri-Strips over it, but you'll be fine without stitches."

"Great," Eddie said. "Business as usual, then."

"Mm," the doctor hummed as she inspected a series of bruises, patted his ribs, and finally left Eddie alone.

The interviews were the fastest part of it all, a few brief minutes spent with the reporters, before finally Eddie was allowed to shower and dress.

He emerged from the shower room in a puff of steam, and beamed at Buck. "Wanna come back to mine?" he asked.

"Yeah," Buck said. "Where's your car?"

Eddie laughed, soft and sweet. "I'm not allowed to drive after a fight. You mind giving me a lift?"

"Oh," Buck said, feeling slightly foolish. "Of course."

They headed off together, Eddie with a gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stayed close to Buck as they headed to the car park, and chattered lightly as they drove through the city evening to his house.

"You seem a bit reserved," Eddie murmured as they pulled into his driveway. His expression was slightly closed off. "How did you … find the fight?"

Sinking back in his chair, Buck looked over at him after putting the Jeep in park. "I don't know," he said honestly. "It wasn't easy to watch. I wanted to help you and I couldn't."

Watching him, Eddie rested his head against the backrest. "I get that," he said softly. "Is it too much?"

Buck considered. "I don't know," he said. "I mean, you're here and you're safe and that's wonderful. But I don't know if I want to watch that again."

"You don't have to come to the fights," Eddie said. "I'm not going to force you to watch if you don't want to."

"That might be worse," Buck admitted. "Knowing you're fighting and not being there."

"Mm," Eddie hummed. He snuggled into the car seat for a moment, then asked, "Would it have been better if your ex hadn't been there?"

"Absolutely."

Without another word, Eddie leaned closer and kissed him.

They weren't touching anywhere but their lips, and Buck felt the distance. He felt it, and he hated it. In that moment, his decision was made.

Drawing back, Buck whispered, "If you're willing to take this risk, then so am I."

"Risk?" Eddie asked softly.

Buck nodded. "The risk that something might happen to you during a fight … or to me on a call. I think it's worth it to pursue what we have here."

Eddie's eyes were dark and very serious. "I think so too."

"Alright," Buck said. "So. Where does that put us?"

"Puts us inside the house, I reckon," Eddie said. "I'm tired and I need to eat. C'mon."

Buck followed him inside. He was very aware of just how alone they were; this was the first time he had been over without Christopher being there. He was also very aware of Eddie's bruised body as he trailed behind him, saw the shifts of his steps that suggested pain.

"You hungry?" Eddie asked as he opened the door and led the way in.

"Always," Buck replied.

Eddie threw him a grin.

They went through to the kitchen. Eddie offered him a beer and Buck turned it down since Eddie couldn't have one. Then he took over making sandwiches so Eddie didn't have to.

"I'm quite capable, Buck."

"Just rest," Buck said. "Let me take care of you."

He didn't miss the soft, delighted pink that flushed Eddie's cheeks. It made his insides warm.

Slapping the sandwiches together, Buck took both plates while Eddie followed with glasses of juice, and they settled on the couch.

Eating with gusto, Eddie looked—apart from the nasty split lip and glued gash above his brow—perfectly well. Buck ate with an uncharacteristic moderation, his eyes on Eddie, wondering about what was hidden beneath his clothes. He'd been wondering that more and more over the past few weeks, but this time it wasn't fuelling the building tide of desire, it was pure concern.

"I'm okay, Buck," Eddie said through a mouthful. "Stop looking at me like that."

"How am I looking?" Buck asked, deliberately taking another bite himself.

"Fretful," Eddie said. He arched his good eyebrow. "You wanna strip me down and give me a once over?"

Buck swallowed. "Uh…"

"Will it reassure you I'm okay?" Eddie asked, popping the last corner of his sandwich between his lips.

Blinking, Buck shook his head. "How many bruises are your clothes covering?"

Eddie shrugged. "A few." He gestured to his face. "This is gonna puff up real pretty too."

Sinking into his corner of the couch, Buck asked, "What's the worst injury you've ever had?"

"I've had a couple of nasty concussions," Eddie said. "Been knocked out cold once for nearly a minute. And I was out of commission for a fight after snapping some bones in my hand and dislocating that same shoulder one time."

"Jesus," Buck murmured. "Why do you do it?"

"It suits me," Eddie said. "I'm good at it. And it pays well, when I win, anyway."

"But it hurts you."

"It's pain I'm willing to bear," Eddie said. A quizzical line appeared above his eyes. "Your job must hurt, too. When you lose someone. Seeing people's homes destroyed. But you do it because it suits you and you can take the hit. Right?"

Considering the words, Buck nodded slowly. "I guess, yeah."

Sliding his hand across the space between them, Eddie rested his fingertips against Buck's knee. "I can take the hit, Buck."

"You can take the hit," Buck repeated, slowly, trying the words on. He smiled slightly, and Eddie smiled back.

"We good?"

"We're good," Buck said. He covered Eddie's fingers with his own, shuffled across the couch, and wrapped his free hand around Eddie's head. Very gently, he pressed a reverent kiss near the cut on Eddie's forehead.

Tipping back into his touch, Eddie found his lips, and kissed Buck's mouth.

Keeping it gentle, Buck returned the kiss with supreme carefulness, until Eddie drew back and whispered, "I'm not gonna break, Buck. Kiss me properly."

"Your lip is split open," Buck murmured. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not much," Eddie said.

"So it does."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Fucking kiss me, Buck."

Cradling Eddie's head with one tender hand, Buck closed the gap between them and kissed him again. He thought he could taste the metallic sting of the raw cut, and ignored it. Eddie curled around him and clung, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

Losing himself in Eddie, Buck groaned when Eddie pulled away again and breathed, "I want you to stay tonight."

An electric jolt pulsed through Buck's chest. "Huh?" he asked stupidly.

"Stay tonight," Eddie repeated.

"Do you mean…?"

"Mhm."

Swallowing, Buck wriggled back a little and cocked his head as he considered Eddie. "You have a concussion," he murmured.

Eyes narrowing slightly, Eddie nodded. "Okay, that's a no."

"It is absolutely not a no," Buck said quickly. "It's a not tonight."

Studying him for a very long, silent minute, Eddie finally puffed out a breath and bowed his head. "You're right," he said. "But I'd still like you to stay."

A flood of affection and raw joy flowed through Buck's core. "I will then," he said quietly. "Should I go home and get some stuff?"

"What stuff?" Eddie asked, frowning. "No."

"Clothes, toothbrush, that sort of thing," Buck said.

Glaring at him softly, Eddie pouted. "No," he said again. "I have shorts you can wear and you can use my toothbrush if I don't have a spare."

"Alright," Buck said. "It's a plan."

"Great," Eddie said. "I'm gonna shower, okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

A playful glimmer entered Eddie's eyes. "Wanna join me?"

"Yes," Buck said. "But—"

"Ah." Eddie gave him a wry smile. "But. I'm not that concussed, Buck."

"All the same," Buck said. "It'd be like if you were drunk and I wasn't, and I don't wanna be that kind of guy."

"You're not that kinda guy," Eddie said, kissing him again as he stood up. Lingering a long moment, he finally broke away and gave Buck a soft stare before turning away without a word to head for the bathroom.

<*-*>

Alarm rocketed through Buck's waking mind and he shot upright in the bed, gaping around the room.

"Umph." A grunt beside him snapped at his attention and Buck shot his gaze down.

Eddie was beside him.

He was in Eddie's room.

He was in Eddie's bed.

"Are you staring at me?" Eddie asked without opening his eyes.

"No," Buck said, then realised he was. "Yes."

Grunting again, Eddie wriggled beneath the covers and brushed one hand across his face. "Ow," he muttered.

His face had swollen up in slight but obvious ways, a few dull bruises on his warm skin. Shifting his weight, Buck reached down and brushed delicate fingers across a puffy cheekbone. "How's your head?" he asked quietly.

"Excellent," Eddie said, the hint of a smile touching his mouth.

Buck couldn't resist an eager grin breaking over his face. "I meant your concussion."

"Mm," Eddie hummed. "But that's not what you asked."

His eyes split open and swivelled to catch Buck's.

"Hey," Buck said. "Morning."

"Morning," Eddie replied. Making a soft, murmuring sound, he snuggled into his pillow. "Why are you awake?"

"I don't know," Buck said. "But I am. And I gotta pee, so."

Groaning, Eddie squinted at him. "If you're getting up, can I convince you to bring me coffee?"

Bending down, Buck brushed his mouth across Eddie's skin. "Absolutely."

Reluctantly leaving Eddie in the bed, Buck got up and used the bathroom, then detoured to the kitchen to make coffee. Returning to the bedroom with two mugs releasing whorls of steam into the morning air, Buck slid one cup onto the nightstand before clambering back into the bed. Cradling his own mug, he took a grateful sip as Eddie sighed and wriggled upright.

He winced as he moved, but retrieved his cup and sank against Buck's shoulder as he took a swallow. "Mm. That's really good," he said.

"Your coffee maker is better than mine," Buck agreed.

For a few long minutes, they sat and drank in silence, content to be together. Buck slipped one arm around Eddie's shoulders, dropped a kiss into his hair.

"Thank you for staying last night," Eddie said after awhile.

"You don't have to thank me for that," Buck said, surprised. "I was happy to."

"Mm," Eddie hummed. He shifted, glancing at the clock on the table, and then cuddled back against Buck. "I need to get Chris in a couple of hours. Do you have plans for today?"

"No."

"Will you stay? I can lend you some clothes if you want."

"My clothes'll be fine."

"Does that mean you'll stay?"

"Yes."

Eddie squeezed his arm. "Good." Glugging down the last of his coffee, he put the cup down and turned to press a questioning kiss to Buck's bare shoulder.

Buck looked down at him. Blinking back up, Eddie's tongue wriggled across the split in his lip. He whispered, "Wanna give me a once over?"

An anticipatory buzz thrummed through Buck's body. "To check your concussion?"

Shaking his head slowly, shifting against Buck's arm, Eddie murmured, "Nope."

A grin carved across Buck's face and he plunked his mug down as well, then turned and slowly, slowly, slithered himself across Eddie's body, urging him back against the mattress as he leaned in and kissed him.

Gentle and curious, their hands found one another, legs tangling as Buck fit their bodies together, Eddie shifting beneath him. The planes of his body moved against Buck's, firm yet yielding. One knee slid along Buck's hip, and Eddie's leg looped over his thigh, a bony foot dropping between Buck's legs from the back.

Tucking his fingers beneath Eddie's tank top, Buck peeled it away, shifting enough so Eddie could free himself.

Holding his breath, he skimmed a gaze down Eddie's body. His warm skin was broken with bruises, florid purple. Heart twisting, Buck skittered lower in the bed, flexing so he could get his mouth against Eddie's skin and press healing kisses to every mark.

Hands raking into Buck's curls, Eddie sighed and swayed beneath him, then breathed a cheeky whisper. "Keep going. Lower."

Laughing into his belly, Buck glanced up and found Eddie watching him, eyes dark and shining in the light filtering through the curtains. "We'll get there," he promised.

"Faster." Eddie pouted.

It made Buck want to bite his lip, so he did; raising his body up again, he gently sucked Eddie's lip into his mouth, caught it between his teeth. He was careful, too aware of the broken skin and swelling, but Eddie groaned and arched towards him. Digging one palm into Eddie's hip, Buck pinned him back against the mattress. "I'll get there," he whispered, then threw Eddie a devastating grin. "When I get there."

Groaning, Eddie flung his head back against the pillow, arching his throat to the morning air. "How long are you going to take?"

Laughing softly, Buck pressed a light kiss to Eddie's jaw. "Let's find out together."

<*-*>

Sweaty, sticky and covered in things he really didn't want to think about, Buck jumped out of the engine. The bay was cooler than the outside air, and he was glad to be back at the station after their call out. He was in desperate need of a shower and a clean uniform.

"Buckley." Hen's voice whipped across the bay. She had stayed back on their call, and was leaning against the railing on the mezzanine, glaring down at him.

"Yeah?" Buck asked, wondering if he'd done something to piss her off.

Then Hen's face broke into a smile. "You have a visitor. Or make that two visitors."

Cocking his head, Buck started, "Who—?" and then Eddie appeared beside Hen, Christopher beneath his arm. "He-ey!" Jogging up the stairs, Buck rushed to greet them, only to skid to a stop a few feet away. "Wait, don't hug me, I'm disgusting."

Grimacing, Hen shook her head. "Go and shower, Buck. I can entertain your friends for another ten minutes."

Peeling his eyes to Eddie's face, Buck gave him a hopeless sort of grin. "Do you mind? Can you wait?"

"Sure thing," Eddie said.

"I'll give you a tour of the ambulance, now it's back," Hen said.

That was where Buck found them all shortly after. Bounding out of the shower in a fresh uniform, his hair still damp, he rushed over to the ambulance and scooped both arms around Eddie's waist, embracing him from behind. "Hey, handsome," he whispered, and kissed Eddie's ear.

"Hey."

"I didn't know you were going to visit today."

"Surprise." Eddie beamed, turning in his arms. "I know I should have asked first, but Chris really wanted to check out the station. Do you mind?"

"Mind? I love that you're here," Buck said. "You gonna stay for dinner?"

"Are we allowed to?" Eddie asked, glancing across at Hen.

But it was Bobby, passing by, who answered him with a firm and unshakeable, "Yes".

"Amazing," Buck said, and leaned his forehead against Eddie's. "I missed you."

It had been two full days and one entire night since their morning in Eddie's bed. Buck had stayed with him and Christopher until the evening, eventually going home to get a proper, uninterrupted sleep before his work week began again. There had been more time spent in Eddie's bed while Christopher had napped in the afternoon, and being apart was a new kind of pain.

"I missed you too," Eddie said lightly. Then he curled both hands around Buck's head and kissed him, full and soundly on the mouth.

Grinning into it, Buck squeezed him closer and kissed him back.

They were interrupted by Christopher, tugging at Buck's sleeve, completely unfazed to be disrupting them. "Hey, Buck, can I go down the fire pole?"

"Yeah!" Buck cried. "You haven't done that yet?"

"We wanted to wait for you." Eddie smiled. He touched a finger to his mouth, and Buck was torn between wanting to dive back into their kiss, and showing Christopher the fire pole.

The latter won out, and Buck spent a wonderfully uneventful hour showing Chistopher and Eddie around the station, taking turns to slide down the pole, supporting Christopher as he got the hang of it, and then they wandered up the stairs after Bobby rang the dinner bell.

"This is nice," Eddie said as he helped Christopher up the stairs. "I can see why you like working here."

"Well, if you ever want a change of career…" Buck said, smiling.

"And lose half my paycheck?" Eddie teased. But then a contemplative look crossed his face. "Maybe when I retire. I've got a few years left in me, though."

"You'd be good at it," Buck said softly as they crested the stairs and moved towards the table. "I remember when we met. You were so good. So cool under pressure. Helping all those people."

Glancing at him, Eddie's face was soft. "You think so?"

"I know it," Buck said. "I watched you."

"Yeah," Eddie said, cheekily. "I bet you did."

"You know I did. I've been obsessed with you right from the start." Pausing, Buck glanced around at his milling co-workers, then crowded in close to Eddie. Resting his chin on Eddie's shoulder, he whispered, "I'm in love with you, actually."

"Well, after yesterday, so I should hope," Eddie whispered back. His arm hooked around Buck's waist and he tipped their faces together. "I love you too."

Joy fizzed through Buck's chest as he pulled Eddie against him, kissed a scattered path down his throat. "Good."

"Good," Eddie whispered, and then they jolted apart as Bobby's voice whipped between them.

"Cut that out and come and sit down. We're not letting my mac and cheese go cold because you two want to paw each other."

Grinning, Buck took Eddie's hand and Eddie took Christopher's. Together, they moved forwards.