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Buck is halfway through his third week of Duolingo when the 118 starts noticing a pattern.
Specifically: every time his phone chirps with that stupid green owl notification, Eddie’s life gets significantly more complicated.
“You practicing again?” Hen asks one afternoon as Buck leans against the counter in the loft kitchen, aggressively repeating phrases under his breath.
Buck straightens proudly. “Actually, I’m expanding my horizons.”
“Mm-hm,” Chim says. “And how many fake emergencies has the owl threatened you with today?”
Buck ignores him, eyes locked on Eddie where he’s cleaning out his turnout locker across the room.
Then, with the confidence of a man who has absolutely no business being this confident, Buck strides over.
“Eddie,” he says smoothly.
Eddie glances up immediately, already suspicious. “Why do you sound like that?”
Buck grins. “Mi amor.”
Eddie blinks.
Hen whistles quietly from across the room. “Okay, not bad.”
Buck practically glows under the praise. “Thank you. I’ve been studying.”
Eddie huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Alright, cariño, what else you got?”
Buck’s face lights up further at the encouragement.
“Oh, I know this one.” He clears his throat dramatically. “Estoy embarazado de ti.”
The entire firehouse goes silent.
Eddie freezes mid-motion.
Hen chokes on air.
Chimney makes a sound like a dying seal.
Bobby slowly lowers the clipboard in his hands. “Buck…”
Buck looks around, confused. “What?”
Eddie’s mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
“You just told me you’re pregnant because of me.”
Buck stares.
“What.”
“You said you’re pregnant,” Eddie repeats, now trying not to laugh. “Not embarrassed. Pregnant.”
Buck’s face goes bright red instantly. “There’s a DIFFERENCE?”
“A very significant one, yes.”
Hen is fully crying now.
“I thought embarazado meant embarrassed!”
“It does not,” Eddie says, shoulders shaking.
Buck points accusingly at his phone. “The owl betrayed me.”
—
Unfortunately, this does not stop him.
If anything, it makes him worse.
Because now Buck is determined to “redeem himself.”
Which is how Eddie finds himself cornered in the station kitchen two days later while Buck practically vibrates with excitement.
“Okay,” Buck says. “I practiced this one.”
“That sentence alone fills me with fear.”
Buck ignores him. “Tus ojos son como… uh…” He squints at his phone. “Dos… huevos.”
Eddie stares.
“Told you,” Chim whispers from the couch. “This is my favorite hobby now.”
Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Buck.”
“Yes?”
“You just compared my eyes to two eggs.”
Buck gasps in horror. “NO.”
“Yes.”
Buck frantically checks his app. “Wait, what’s ojos—”
“Eyes.”
“And huevos—”
“Eggs.”
Buck looks devastated. “I was trying to say stars!”
Hen nearly falls off the armchair laughing.
Eddie, meanwhile, can’t stop smiling.
Because the thing is—Buck is trying. So hard. With all the earnestness of a golden retriever attempting poetry.
And Eddie’s maybe a little doomed by it.
—
A week later, Buck walks into the station with flowers.
Actual flowers.
“Uh-oh,” Chim says immediately.
Buck ignores him and marches directly toward Eddie, who’s sitting at the table helping Christopher with homework during shift downtime.
Christopher notices the flowers first.
“Ooooh,” he says, delighted. “Dad, you’re in trouble.”
“I’m aware.”
Buck clears his throat importantly.
“Eddie Diaz,” he says. “Eres el amor de mi vida.”
Eddie pauses.
Then blinks.
Then softens so visibly the whole room goes quiet for a second.
Because that one? That one is right.
“You sure?” Eddie asks quietly.
Buck grins. “I triple checked with Google Translate.”
Christopher groans. “That’s not better, Buck.”
But Eddie’s already smiling helplessly.
“You’re the love of my life too,” he says.
Buck looks so pleased with himself that Bobby mutters, “God help us,” under his breath.
Buck hands over the flowers triumphantly.
“And,” he says, “you smell like a horse.”
Eddie stares.
Christopher wheezes.
Hen screams laughing from the kitchen.
Buck’s expression drops immediately into horror. “NO, WAIT—”
“You called him a horse?” Chimney is fully bent over now.
“I WAS TRYING TO SAY FLOWERS!”
Eddie is laughing too hard to breathe.
Buck grabs his phone frantically. “Caballo and cebolla and whatever— Spanish is a scam language—”
Still laughing, Eddie reaches out, catches Buck by the front of his hoodie, and pulls him in close.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says fondly.
Buck sighs dramatically. “But lovable?”
“Unfortunately.”
Then Eddie kisses him right there in front of everyone while Buck still clutches his phone with Duolingo open.
The owl notification goes off mid-kiss.
Practice reminder: Your family misses you!
Hen loses it completely.
By the time Buck hits Day Forty-Five on Duolingo, the entire station has developed survival instincts.
Specifically:
If Buck says, “Hey Eddie, can I practice something on you?” everyone else leaves the room immediately.
“Nope,” Hen says one morning, grabbing her coffee and backing toward the apparatus bay. “I have children to live for.”
“Coward,” Buck calls after her.
“She’s smart,” Eddie mutters.
Buck beams at him from across the kitchen table. “Ready?”
“Absolutely not.”
Too bad.
Buck sits down beside him anyway, practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, so I’ve moved into intermediate Spanish.”
“That sounds fake.”
“There are stories now,” Buck says proudly. “And flirting modules.”
Eddie makes a face. “God help me.”
Buck clears his throat dramatically.
“Eddie,” he says, lowering his voice. “Quiero tocarte toda la noche.”
The room goes silent.
Chimney slowly looks up from the couch. “Oh.”
Hen freezes halfway through sipping coffee.
Bobby just closes his eyes.
Eddie nearly inhales his own tongue.
Buck grins, oblivious. “Pretty good, right?”
Eddie stares at him for a long moment. “Buck.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what you just said to me in front of our coworkers and my son?”
Christopher immediately perks up from where he’s sitting at the table. “Wait, what did he say?”
“Nothing,” Eddie says quickly.
Buck frowns. “No, tell me if I got it right.”
Eddie rubs both hands down his face. “You told me you want to touch me all night.”
Buck blinks.
Then turns bright red so fast it’s honestly impressive.
“Oh my God.”
Christopher absolutely loses it.
“BUCK!”
“I THOUGHT IT MEANT DANCE!”
Hen is laughing so hard she has tears streaming down her face again. “How are you consistently making these worse?”
Buck points accusingly at Eddie. “Why are all your words dangerous?”
“My words?”
“Spanish is hostile.”
“It’s not the language’s fault you keep trying to seduce Eddie before breakfast,” Chimney says.
Buck groans and drops his forehead onto the table.
Eddie, traitor that he is, can’t stop smiling.
Because honestly?
Buck accidentally saying filthy things in Spanish while looking deeply sincere the whole time is maybe the funniest thing that’s happened to Eddie in years.
Christopher grins wickedly. “You know what? I should help.”
Eddie looks up sharply. “No.”
“Yes,” Christopher says immediately. “Absolutely yes.”
Buck lifts his head hopefully. “You’d tutor me?”
“Dad deserves payback for making me eat mushrooms for eight years.”
“That was one time,” Eddie argues.
Christopher ignores him. “Rule number one: never trust the owl.”
Buck nods solemnly like this is sacred wisdom.
—
Three days later, Eddie should know something’s wrong the second he walks into the station and everyone goes weirdly quiet.
Hen looks seconds away from exploding.
Chimney won’t make eye contact.
Christopher is sitting at the table with the expression of a child moments from committing crimes.
And Buck—
Buck looks way too confident.
“Oh no,” Eddie says immediately.
Buck lights up. “Eddie! I practiced!”
“Why is everyone smiling like that?”
“No reason,” Christopher says innocently.
Eddie narrows his eyes. “Buck. What did you learn?”
Buck walks over proudly.
Then, in genuinely excellent Spanish, says:
“Your ass looks incredible in those jeans.”
Dead silence.
Eddie stops breathing.
Hen physically folds in half.
Chimney falls off the couch.
Christopher bursts into hysterical laughter.
Buck smiles proudly. “Pretty good, right?”
Eddie slowly turns toward his son.
“Christopher.”
Christopher is crying laughing now. “I couldn’t help it!”
“You weaponized my boyfriend!”
Buck’s eyes widen. “Wait.”
Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Baby, what exactly did Chris tell you that meant?”
Buck thinks for a second.
“…Your smile lights up the room.”
The entire station erupts.
Buck looks horrified. “CHRISTOPHER!”
Christopher cackles. “You should’ve seen your face!”
“You little menace!”
Buck lunges toward him while Christopher speeds away in his wheelchair, shrieking with laughter as Buck chases him around the loft.
“GET BACK HERE!”
“You said it PERFECTLY!”
“THAT DOESN’T HELP!”
Eddie watches them tear through the station, Buck dramatically betrayed and Christopher delighted with himself, and feels something warm settle in his chest.
Because this.
This ridiculous chaos.
This is his life now.
Buck finally catches Christopher by grabbing the handles of his chair, both of them breathless and laughing.
“You are evil,” Buck informs him.
Christopher grins. “You love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Eddie walks over, still shaking his head.
Buck immediately points at Christopher. “Your son is a criminal.”
“My son,” Eddie says carefully, “learned from the best.”
Buck gasps. “You take that back.”
Eddie just smiles and kisses him before he can keep arguing.
Buck melts instantly.
Then pauses.
“…Can I try one more phrase?”
Eddie sighs deeply. “Why do I keep letting you do this?”
Buck grins against his mouth.
“Porque te amo.”
Eddie blinks.
That one’s right too.
Simple. Perfect. Completely sincere.
Because I love you.
And somehow that lands even harder than the disasters.
Eddie smiles softly. “Yeah?”
Buck nods. “Yeah.”
Hen sniffs dramatically from the couch. “Okay, now I’m emotional.”
“Disgusting,” Chimney says, equally emotional.
Christopher grins. “You guys are gross.”
Eddie pulls Buck in for another quick kiss anyway.
Buck immediately ruins the moment by whispering, “Also I think I accidentally told a cashier yesterday that I was a table.”
Eddie closes his eyes.
“Buck.”
“She looked so concerned, Eddie.”The problem with Buck learning Spanish is that he’s actually getting better.
Which, unfortunately for Eddie, means he’s becoming confident.
And confident Buck is a public safety hazard.
“You know,” Hen says thoughtfully during shift breakfast, “there was a brief period where the mistranslations were protecting us.”
“Exactly,” Chim agrees. “Now he’s accurate enough to be dangerous.”
Buck points at them with his fork. “You’re all just jealous of my linguistic growth.”
“You called a paramedic at last week’s call ‘beautiful and emotionally available,’” Eddie reminds him.
Buck shrugs. “She appreciated it.”
“She proposed marriage,” Bobby says without looking up from his coffee.
Buck looks pleased. “See?”
Eddie groans into his hands.
Honestly, he should’ve known today was going to be bad the second Buck walked into the station carrying a tiny notebook.
“What’s that,” Eddie asks carefully.
Buck lights up. “My romance phrases.”
Hen immediately stands up. “Nope.”
“Coward,” Buck says again.
“I’ve heard enough accidental foreplay to last a lifetime.”
Buck flips the notebook open proudly. “I’ve been writing down the good ones so I stop making mistakes.”
“That somehow feels more threatening,” Chim mutters.
Eddie eyes the notebook with deep suspicion. “Who approved the phrases?”
Buck pauses.
“…The internet.”
“Oh, we’re doomed.”
—
The opportunity arrives faster than Eddie expects.
Because of course it does.
The 118 is midway through a grocery run when Eddie separates from the group for exactly four minutes to grab coffee beans.
Four minutes.
That’s all it takes.
He turns down the next aisle and finds Buck standing beside the shopping cart talking to an older woman in rapid, surprisingly decent Spanish.
Eddie slows, startled.
The woman is smiling warmly while Buck gestures animatedly, helping reach something from the top shelf.
“Oh,” Eddie says quietly to himself.
That’s… actually kind of sweet.
Buck notices him approaching and absolutely beams.
“Eddie! Perfect timing.”
The woman says something else in Spanish Eddie only catches half of, but enough to understand she’s asking if Buck is his husband.
Buck grins proudly and answers before Eddie can.
“Todavía no, pero estoy trabajando en ello.”
Not yet, but I’m working on it.
The older woman laughs delightedly.
Eddie’s brain short-circuits a little.
Because Buck says it so casually. So easily.
Like it’s obvious. Like it’s real. Like Eddie is something Buck plans on keeping forever.
The woman pats Eddie’s cheek fondly as she passes.
“You should marry him,” she tells Eddie in English. “He looks at you like poetry.”
Then she walks away before Eddie can recover from that sentence.
Buck looks unbearably pleased with himself.
“What?” he asks innocently.
Eddie stares at him. “You understood all that?”
“I’m improving.”
“You told a stranger you’re planning to marry me.”
Buck’s expression softens immediately. “Well.”
And there it is again. That terrifying sincerity.
“Well,” Buck repeats quietly, “I mean… yeah.”
Eddie forgets how breathing works for a second.
From the other end of the aisle, Chimney loudly whispers, “OH MY GOD.”
Apparently the rest of the team witnessed enough to become emotionally invested.
Hen peeks around the corner clutching a box of cereal. “Did Buck accidentally propose in Spanish?”
“Not accidentally,” Bobby says.
Buck goes red instantly. “I did not propose!”
“You kind of spiritually proposed,” Hen argues.
“I absolutely did not!”
Eddie can’t stop smiling now, helpless and warm and a little wrecked around the edges.
Buck notices immediately.
“What?” he asks again, softer this time.
Eddie shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
Maybe he is.
Because the truth is—
Nobody has ever loved Eddie Diaz loudly.
Not like this.
Not in grocery store aisles. Not with terrible accents and romance notebooks and complete unwavering certainty.
Buck loves him like breathing. Like gravity. Like the easiest thing in the world.
And Eddie still doesn’t entirely know what to do with that sometimes.
Buck steps closer.
Then, carefully—like he’s testing himself—he says:
“Te elijo todos los días.”
Eddie’s breath catches.
I choose you every day.
No mistakes. No accidental horse comparisons. No calling himself furniture.
Just Buck. Choosing him.
Every day.
“Okay,” Hen says immediately, emotional again. “That one was disgusting.”
Chim wipes at his eyes. “Yeah, I hated that.”
“Can you two let me have one moment?” Eddie asks.
“No,” Chim says. “We suffered through the pregnancy announcement. This is ours too.”
Buck laughs, a little embarrassed now, rubbing the back of his neck. “I practiced that one for like an hour.”
“It was good,” Eddie says quietly.
Buck looks at him for a second too long.
Then grins suddenly. “Cool. Because I also learned how to say—”
Eddie points a warning finger at him. “Don’t.”
“—‘your boyfriend is extremely handsome and deserves a kiss—’”
“That is not a real phrase.”
“It could be.”
“Buck.”
Buck’s grin turns downright devious.
Then he rattles off another sentence in Spanish so quickly Eddie barely catches it before his entire face combusts.
“Oh my God.”
Hen SCREAMS.
“WHAT DID HE SAY?”
Eddie refuses to answer.
Buck looks delighted. “See? Fluent.”
“You absolutely are not fluent!”
“But you understood me.”
“That’s not the point!”
Christopher chooses that exact moment to wheel around the corner holding snacks.
“Why is Dad red?”
Buck immediately answers in Spanish again.
Christopher’s eyes go huge.
Then he looks at Eddie with pure betrayal. “BUCK!”
“WHAT?” Buck says defensively.
“You can’t say that in public!”
“I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT HE SAID,” Chim yells.
Christopher covers his ears dramatically. “I’m too young for this station.”
Eddie grabs Buck by the hoodie and drags him bodily away while Buck laughs the entire time.
“You are a menace,” Eddie mutters.
Buck leans in close, smug and warm and impossible.
“But I’m your menace.”
And honestly?
Yeah.
Yeah, he is.