Archive of Our Own

Eddie would like it on record that he despises the Internet. But sometimes, on rare occasions, it is a necessary evil. Like washing the dishes. Or taxes. 

Right now, on a Tuesday night, he is wrestling with said evil, squinting blearily at his laptop. Christopher is asleep down the hall, peaceful as can be, and Eddie is awake. He is wide awake. He is in the middle of a staring competition with his laptop. It’s not even a good laptop. The “r” key won’t depress, which means he can’t type to his heart’s content unless he meticulously copies and pastes the “r”, which is fine, it’s fine, except for that one time he forgot, and he had then copied an entire LAFD handbook and pasted it into an email he sent to Adriana. She had laughed. He had sighed. It is what it is. 

And now— now, Eddie’s taken the time to write something he’d only ever have the balls to write anonymously. Which he has. He is on Reddit.com, on a Tuesday night, in bed, waiting for someone to help him. 

r/relationships
10 seconds ago - eddiebodywantssome

What the hell do I do? — girlfriend (f25) told me (m26) last night she doesn’t think I love her, even though I tell her I do at all the appropriate times. Am I just emotionally unavailable? 

I’ve been dating my girlfriend for four months now after being set up on a blind date by my tia. She’s really nice, she’s great with my kid (I’m a single dad), and I like spending time with her. She keeps saying that it feels like I’m distant, and last night she said sometimes it doesn’t feel like I love her. I don’t know how to convince her otherwise. I say it on dates, when we say goodbye, etc. I don’t want her to feel like this.

I haven’t dated anyone but her since I separated from my ex-wife. I feel like I’m just bad at being open about things because dating feels like such a performance. Go to dinner, buy the flowers, kiss her, etc etc. It’s like a role. I don’t know how to break out of this. It felt like that even with my wife. When we were just dating, she even mentioned that I always seemed distant from the relationship, even though I wasn’t trying to be. I was never really taught how to be vulnerable romantically; a lot of “man up” stuff was drilled into me as a kid instead. I don’t want my kid to see my relationship with my girlfriend and think he shouldn’t be vulnerable. I want to set a good example, especially since they get along so well.

Any advice is appreciated. 

Thanks.

Undisclosed_Turtle87: Do you even like kissing her
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Sure. It’s nice.
-> Undisclosed_Turtle87: Oh Brother

Growlmasteronaboat: Hello there. Gay man weighing in here. Ignore this if it doesn’t apply, obviously, but when I was in college, I felt about the same way you’re describing your own life right now. I felt like dating was a performance, and that if I just played my role right I’d start feeling the right thing too. And then I met my current partner, who is a man. We spent three years orbiting each other while I dated woman after woman. He was already out as a bisexual man, and I knew this, but it just didn’t click for me that I wanted him as more than a friend. Or maybe it did on a subconscious level. But I needed that final push, which I got when he asked me, straight up, if I could see myself marrying my then-girlfriend, or if I was just kidding myself. No pressure to respond to this, but think about it maybe. Good luck OP.
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Hey, I appreciate the input. I’m straight, though. I could probably see myself marrying her. She’s really good with my kid, has a good job and I like spending time around her. It’d make sense for us to end up married.

Wolfalicelovelove: hello OP !! when did she tell you this??
-> Eddiebodywantssome: In bed. 
-> Wolfalicelovelove: like after sex orrr ? 
-> Eddiebodywantssome: That’s an inappropriate question. Also irrelevant.

Buckaroo69: Hey man! I can’t say I’ve had a lot of trouble expressing romantic feelings before, usually the opposite, haha! But as someone who has been on the other side – do something big! A grand romantic gesture will help her feel seen and hopefully loved. Take her to dinner at her favourite restaurant and bring her a big bunch of flowers. Maybe take her to a show if she likes that kind of thing. I tried an air balloon once, haha, no such thing as too big!
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Not a bad idea. I’m not really sure what her favourite restaurant is, though. We mostly just go to the same place we had our first date.
-> Buckaroo69: Maybe just pick a nice place of her favourite cuisine! Trying something new should help shake things up, man. You got this!
-> Undisclosed_Turtle87: My brother in Christ, he does not got this

As it turns out, Buckaroo69 is right (take that, Undisclosed_Turtle87). Eddie takes Ana out to an Italian restaurant the next weekend, and they have a lovely time. They even shared dessert — a chocolate mousse Ana really enjoyed — and splurged on an extra glass of wine each. Grand gestures haven’t really been Eddie’s thing, ever, but he thinks maybe he could make them his thing. He’s bound to mess up and… withdraw, as he seems prone to doing around Ana, again. And Ana is good. She deserves nice things. Especially since Eddie just— can’t stay in the mood long enough to have sex with her. Or— make love. Whatever. Point is: if Eddie can’t make himself touch her in a way that makes her feel seen and wanted, then the least he could do is pay for a nice meal every once in a while. 

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it worked. For once, the Internet didn’t let him down. 

(Later, his laptop pings with a new reply on the Reddit thread. 

Buckaroo69: Hey! Did it work? 

Eddie stares at the reply for a long minute before replying. 

-> Eddiebodywantssome: Yep. 

He leaves it at that.)

r/firefighters
24 minutes ago - buckaroo69

Submitting for the LAFD firefighter calendar this year – which pictures should I go with? :D 

Finishing off my probie year and preparing for the LAFD calendar for next year, but can’t decide on what kinda photo to go with. Let me know what you think :D ;) 

[Images attached x 12]

Eddie doesn’t know why he’s here. He’s not even a probie yet, so he has no business perusing the LAFD subreddit. But he is. He is here, and he’s staring at what is probably the most remarkable set of biceps he’s ever seen. 

Not to mention the thighs. Holy shit, does this Buckaroo guy have big thighs. Meaty thighs. Thighs one could grab and squeeze, fingers dimpling into the muscle, the plushness of it overflowing from their grip, if one had urges like that. 

He’ll give himself five more seconds to look. And— sure, Chris is in his room, and Ana is still on her way here for their bi-weekly movie nights, but— it feels wrong. To be here. On his own couch. Using his own laptop that still refuses to type the letter “r” (despite how many times Eddie aggressively pokes at it). He should put his laptop in rice. He should put himself in rice. 

Exhaling shakily, Eddie keeps staring. 

Strangely flushed and out of breath, Eddie scrolls down to read the replies. 

Hoeforhoes: HOLY SHIT. I am so glad I joined this subreddit. Sweet Jesus that body of yours is absurd. I would definitely go with picture 4. And 5. And 6. And .all of them. Are you single? 
->Buckaroo69: hahahaha thank you! The general consensus seems to be that picture 4 is the best, so I’ll go with that one. Appreciate the appreciation ;) 

Comingdownthechimney: Dude. 

Bunker_Bunny67: Wowwwww go for number 10! Your abs look breathtaking :OOO Can you give me CPR? 

Firelovernotfighter: This isn’t appropriate for this subreddit. Go post your thirst traps elsewhere, dude. 

Eddie shouldn’t reply. He’s not a firefighter yet. He shouldn’t have any kind of opinion on the matter – and yet he’s spent fifteen valuable minutes flicking between the provided images, face hot with … something. Envy, maybe? Is he envious of this guy's muscles? He’s never felt like that before. He’s always been pretty neutral on his body.

And the guy is looking for opinions, right? And he’s helped Eddie out. Fair is fair. 

Eddiebodywantssome: 4.
-> Buckaroo69: Hey! Fancy seeing you here :) I’ll take your vote into consideration 🫡

Eddie didn’t think Buckaroo69 would reply. Eddie stares at the almost instant response for so long that his eyes go a little blurry. Heart racing like a herd of horses, he types a speedy response and then slams his laptop closed.

-> Eddiebodywantssome: Ok 👍

The next time Eddie takes to Reddit has to do with his girlfriend again. Peripherally. Because, apparently, Eddie can’t date without having an entire website of people at his disposal. 

It’s not a great feeling, being a grown man needing to be handheld because he’s in a relationship with a wonderful woman. Woe is he, who must sleep beside a kind, smart, pretty woman who checks all the boxes and gets along with his kid and wrinkles her nose cutely when Eddie makes a bad joke. Woe is he whose palms start to sweat when her hands drift beneath the duvet to tease the edge of his sweatpants — sweatpants he’s taken to wearing in bed to dissuade her from touching him — before he rolls away and says he wants her to feel good, all but begging her to let him focus on her pleasure while ignoring his own. 

But there is no pleasure to ignore. Because he can’t feel it. He can’t feel whatever he’s supposed to feel with her. There is something wrong with him. 

He tells himself it’ll sort itself out. These things take time! He can’t expect himself to fall in love with Ana this early on in the relationship— especially not when he’s simultaneously juggling the Fire Academy and single-handedly raising a kid. Of course he’s tired. Of course having sex seems like an impossible task. He doesn’t need Reddit to tell him that. 

He manages to go an entire week before he takes to Reddit again, because some things really can only be discussed anonymously. 

r/relationships
2 minutes ago - eddiebodywantssome

An acquaintance accused me of flirting with a man today. I am straight and dating a woman. How do I respectfully make this clear?

I (26m) have made a new guy friend (early 40s) and we’ve gotten close fast. We play pick-up basketball together and he dropped off a pack of beer we’d talked about that’s kinda hard to get in this area after I finished training today (I’m becoming a first responder). My acquaintance insinuated that this was some kind of mating ritual, which is insane, because we’re just friends. Me and T(friend) have a boys trip coming up that T organised last minute and I don’t want anyone to make any assumptions about it, because T is straight too.

I also tried reminding them I have a long term girlfriend, but they don’t seem persuaded. 

BarryAllenIsDaBomb: r u sure he’s not flirting? What is the boys trip?
-> Eddiebodywantssome: he’s taking me to vegas in a helicopter to catch a fight. 
-> BarryAllenIsDaBomb: are you paying for the tickets
-> Eddiebodywantssome: No
-> BarryAllenIsDaBomb: Right. Right right right right. Break up with your girlfriend. You have a sugar daddy
-> Eddiebodywantssome: No

Giant_Gay420: He’s buying you niche beer and flying you to fights. Are u sure he’s straight
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Yeah. So? 
-> Giant_Gay420: So imagine if he were a woman. 
-> Eddiebodywantssome: He’s not. 
-> Charliii_3i: omg respectful king. no misgendering here 
-> Giant_Gay420: Stop enabling this obviously gay man
Eddiebodywantssome locked this thread 

Buckaroo69: that sounds normal to me hahaha! I would do that for my friends too if i had the money. Sounds like u found a good friend :) maybe ask if you can bring ur gf next time? That way u can get ur coworker off ur back AND prove to her and everyone else it’s platonic at the same time! 
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Thanks for seeing it from my point of view. I do want to keep the two separate, but it’s a nice thought. Thanks. 
-> Giant_Gay420: BRUH

Going to Vegas was, Eddie can admit, the highlight of his month. It’s not often he does things for himself, and this wasn’t that either, but— he let someone else do something for him. He let someone usher him into a helicopter and buy him a ticket to see a fight, and eat a nice meal before flying home again. 

He rides the Vegas high for an entire week. Even Chris points it out, making fun of him for acting weird at the dinner table. 

And then he breaks up with Ana. 

It’s fine. Latent homosexuality or not, it’s fine. Eddie can be straight and break up with his girlfriend. Eddie can be gay and break up with his girlfriend. It’s honestly none of his business. 

The world spins on either way, which brings with it new problems for Eddie to lie awake pondering. 

r/firefighting
2 minutes ago - eddiebodywantssome

Any advice for regular care for crazy firefighter hours? I’m a single dad and my son (age 8) has CP so would need to be someone properly trained. And not too expensive. LA area. 

Not sure if this is the right place to ask this, but I’m starting my probationary year next month or so after graduating from the academy and I’ve got family to watch my kid, but I don’t want that to be the long term solution as I don’t want to rely on my Abuela and Tia too much, especially since they have their own lives.

Edit: No, his mom can’t help. She passed away in an accident.

Edit: No, my girlfriend (from other posts) can’t help, we broke up. 

Buckaroo69: hey! That’s amazing dude! Congrats on graduating soon :) I’m also in the LA area, so maybe we’ll bump into each other on calls in the future. As for your kid… I have a friend of a friend who knows how to cut through all the red tape. Child care is no joke when you work 24h/48h shifts regularly. Can I give you her number?
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Hey Buckaroo. You stalking me? Her number would be great. 
-> Buckaroo69: Hey! You stalked me here first! DM sent :)
-> Eddiebodywantssome: I don’t know how dms work
-> Buckaroo69: Okay. Click my name and click send message
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Ok
-> Buckaroo69: Send me your phone number and I’ll text u
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Are u a serial killer?
-> Buckaroo69: No
-> Eddiebodywantssome: Ok
-> Buckaroo69: You have a slim grasp on internet safety 

Eddie knows. Eddie’s going to be Christopher’s very own, very personal cautionary tale. But Eddie’s desperate— anyone who knows someone who might be able to help him navigate child care is a person Eddie needs to talk to. And it’s not like Buckaroo69 is a total stranger; they’ve spoken on several (two) different subreddits. That’s the equivalent of at least a handful of run-ins at a coffee shop in real life. And Eddie believes that he would exchange numbers with a stranger at a coffee shop if the circumstances were right. 

Unknown number: Hey! It’s Buck
Like Buckaroo69
But just Buck
You don’t have to include the 69

Eddie: You mean your legal name doesn’t include the number 69?

Buck: Haha. No. I mean my real name is Evan

Eddie: Why Buck?

Buck: It’s my last name. Buckley

Eddie: Now who has a slim grasp on internet safety, Evan Buckley?

Buck: Okay, do as I say, not as I do

Eddie: You’re a weird guy, Buck

Buck: Be nice! I’m helping you!

Eddie: Feeling real helped so far

Buck: So pushy.
[CONTACT SENT]
This is Carla, she’s a home health care aid :) she’s genuinely the best. Give her a call and say Buck sent you. She’ll be able to help. She’s a badass with all the bureaucracy stuff, I know there’s a lotta hoops you probably have to jump through for your kid

Eddie: Wow.
Thanks, man. I really appreciate this.
You have a kid?

Buck: Oh no no no. She helped my ex with her mom.

Eddie: Ah ok. 

Buck: But we’re still friends. She’s really cool.

Eddie: Good to hear :)
Thanks again.

Carla is, as promised, a Godsend. She’s wonderful with Chris, which unfortunately leads to Eddie reflecting on his time with Ana and how she evoked the same emotion in Eddie that Carla does: relief. Relief that Chris has an adult to rely on who isn’t Eddie. 

Which, um. Yeah. Sure is a revelation. He sits with it for thirty minutes before ordering Ana the biggest bouquet of flowers he can find online. When it arrived later that day, Ana sent him a very valid text message reading: ? and Eddie, who was on his broken laptop, replied with an embarrassingly heartfelt: I’m soy for eveything. Thanks fo having my back even though I was a weck. Ana replied with another ? and Eddie had cast a solemn look at the bottle of wine beside him (sent from Texas by Sophia as a congratulations for graduating). 

Carla is privy to the whole Eddie-Ana thing. She’d pried it out of him the day after they’d broken up, because Carla is as good with emotionally constipated adults as she is with children. 

But they talk about other things, too: Carla’s adorable niece, how Eddie’s settling in with Station 6, Christopher’s propensity for geography. Sometimes, they even talk about Buck. It’s a little strange when they do, because Eddie doesn’t actually know him. He’s never met him. He has no clue what he looks like. And still, still, he’s grateful for him. Enough so that he tells Carla to thank him and say hi from him again the next time they see each other. 

The thing is this: outside of work and Carla, Buck is the closest thing Eddie has to a friend. If he’s honest, he’s the closest friend, period, that he’s had in years. Which feels a little pathetic, considering the whole never having met the guy thing.

But they text. Frequently. Almost insanely so.

Buck: You ever been to the pier?? 

Eddie: I haven’t. But I want to take Chis. The pie seems nice this time of yea. 

Buck: ???
Are you having a stroke Eddie 

Eddie: Texting on laptop. Lette between q and s doesn’t wok. Soy. 

Buck: Oh my hof

Eddie: New school PTA is trying to recruit me for a bake sale. I’m going to die. 

Buck: Not secretly a bomb baker?

Eddie: No, but I can make mac and cheese, cheese toasties, and cheese quesadillas.

Buck: Cheese-heavy menu

Eddie: Cheese is reliable

Buck: Let me send you a recipe my captain showed me. It’s basically idiot proof

Eddie: I’ll mess it up

Buck: Just text me while you’re making it. I’ll be your Remi

Eddie: What

Buck: From Ratatouille 

Eddie: Remi is the rat?

Buck: Yeah

Eddie: You’re a weird guy, Buck

Buck: That’s why they pay me the big bucks

Buck: Found an arm in a pool

Eddie: ??

Buck: had to fish it out with a big net. Saved the arm!

Eddie: The only call we’ve had today was saving a cat out of a tree.

Buck: I don’t think I’ve actually seen that

Eddie: A cat?
They’re small and fluffy. Pointy ears. Goes meow. 

Buck: No the.
Asshole

Eddie: :)

When the tsunami hits, Eddie’s ashamed of how relieved he is, knowing his kid is safely inland in the care of Carla. He spends the day wracked with worry, of course, but he knows he’s safe. Knows he’s in the best hands he could be in, with Eddie out here, wading through the wreckage, doing what little he can. 

What he doesn’t know, however, is how Buck is faring. He knows he’s on shift today, which means he’s probably out here somewhere, picking his way through the same carnage Eddie is. 

It’s a mess. Station 6 is sent to the pier — a place many stations were redirected — to scour for survivors and help out in the makeshift relief centre erected near a connecting road. 

Everyone is tired. Everyone wants to go home. But by dawn, they’re still pulling people out of the water with no end in sight. Eddie sleeps fitfully, propped up against a pole near one of the tents, and wonders, half-asleep, if Christopher slept through the night. To his right, someone he’s pretty sure lost a hand is laughing. To his left, someone is sniffling, voice wobbling around the short story they’re telling of how they got down from the Ferris wheel. 

He wishes he could text Buck. 

He’s nudged awake around eight in the morning. The sun is bright in the sky, and looking down at him, haloed by the sun, is a sheepish-looking man in turnouts.

“Hey,” the guy says, quiet and apologetic. “Sorry to wake you, but— um. I think your team’s been relieved.” 

Eddie blinks blearily, senses coming back to him slowly, like a laggy computer. Through a mouth full of cotton, he manages, “Station 6?” 

The guy nods, gaze lifting momentarily to nod to his left. “They’re looking for you, I think.” 

As if waiting on its cue, his radio buzzes to life. “Firefighter Diaz, we’re heading back in ten. Rendezvous at tent four. Over.” 

Biting back a yawn, Eddie grasps his radio. “Copy that. Over.” 

Letting go of his radio, Eddie slumps. Just a little, though. He’s just gathering his strength, trying not to think about the scent of sea salt and sweat clinging to him.  

“Hey, let me—” the guy says, reaching for him. 

Eddie lets him. He lets this random guy get an arm around him and haul him to his feet, lets him steady him when he stumbles like Bambi, exhaustion weighing on him like dumbbells. 

With a hand on the guy’s bulky shoulder, Eddie manages to get himself upright. And then, laughing weakly, he lifts his gaze and feels at once like the world stops for half a second. 

He sees the guy, then, fully and in high definition. He’s got short hair, just a little on the curly side, eyes bright blue like the ocean he spent so much time fighting through the last day or so. 

The guy is— well. He’s attractive, is the thing. Kind eyes, full lips, pink high on his cheekbones. 

Eddie’s chest does a funny thing. Like a swoop, mid-summersault.  

“Thanks,” he breathes. 

“Yeah,” the guy says, his voice weirdly airy, eyes flickering between Eddie’s. “Any time.” 

Eddie tries, and fails, to look away from him. The man. The man in turnouts, who has bulky shoulders and kind eyes. And, Above his eyebrow, a— 

Eddie tilts forward quickly, hand finding the guy's chin and turning his head to the side with a gentle nudge to inspect the splash of colour above his brow. “Hey, have you got this checked—”

The guy beneath Eddie’s touch laughs, a placating hand settling over his wrist. “Birthmark, man. Not a bruise. I’m all good.” He blinks then, slowly, likely taking in Eddie’s dishevelled appearance. It’s been a long day. A long night. “You okay, Diaz?”

Just call me Eddie, he almost says, but then his radio crackles again: “Firefighter Diaz, don’t make me come find you.”

It isn’t until the next morning that Eddie’s phone regains service. Not that Eddie knows this— he crashed hard as soon as he got home, taking only enough time to confirm Carla could stay over before collapsing like a ragdoll whose strings had been cut. 

He sleeps for eleven hours. The only reason he gets up, in the end, is to have dinner with Chris and relieve Carla of her Diaz-duty. (He also, quickly, checks to see if Buck has texted him. He has. Which means he's alive. Faint with relief, Eddie tells himself he'll text him back as soon as he has a minute to himself). 

Chris is, understandably, clingy for the rest of the night. Eddie soaks it in, lets himself be goaded into putting on a movie on a school night and bundling up on the couch with popcorn. Chris rests his little head on Eddie’s arm, and Eddie feels, at once, impossibly grateful for him. For the miracle his son is. 

It’s only once Chris is asleep and tucked into bed that Eddie lets himself focus on himself. Namely, his phone. Which, as it turns out, has amassed fifteen texts from one Evan Buckley since this morning. 

Buck: Hey man please text me when you can
You okay?
I don’t know what station you’re with but I hope you were able to avoid the pier
Just checking in. 
You’re off shift now right?
Is Chris okay?
Sorry, me again. Carla let me know you're alive and have been sleeping 
Call me if you need anything
Or text
Hey
Sorry, just me again. Was a hell of a day, just wanna make sure you’re ok
Realising now maybe ur phone didn’t survive haha
Or you’re still asleep
Text me when you’re awake. Or from your laptop.
Missing r or not.

Eddie flushes hot and cold with equal parts relief and guilt. 

Eddie: Hey Buck
I’m so soy fo disappeaing on you. I’m okay. Chis is okay.
Fuck me. Finding my phone, one second
Are you okay? 

Buck’s reply is almost instant. 

Buck: Fuck
Hi
Sorry for spam texting you a million times earlier
I’m so glad you and Chris are alright
Where were you sent?
During the tsunami, I mean
Also I’m okay don’t worry about me

Eddie: I will worry about you.
Seriously though, sorry for taking so long to reply. I’m exhausted. Commute from the station didn’t help.
My station was at the pier. Same as yours I’m guessing? 

Buck: No way
Yeah I was there!
That’s crazy
We might have talked without realising it
Also yeah I remember you saying the drive to ur station is crazy
Considering a transfer? 

Eddie: I think so, since I can’t really move houses.
It’s accessible for Chris. So a transfer might be best.
Ha, yeah. I talked to a lot of people. It’s all kind of a blur.
But you’re okay? 

Buck: I’m okay
I met this guy, though. Holy shit. Not the time, but seriously the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen 

Eddie: Oh?

Buck: Yeah dude
I can’t even describe him
Actually yes I can
He was like
Ruggedly handsome
And beautiful
Even when he was sleeping
I saw him and froze, man 

Eddie: Haha. Wow. Are you into men?

Buck: I guess?
Yeah
Yeah I am
I haven’t really thought about it much before. Like sure, I’ve done a few threesomes with dudes and their girlfriends, but who hasn’t?

Eddie: Me

Buck: Different lifestyles I guess LOL but yeah.
I’m into men. This one man in particular
He had these like really rich eyes. Like dark chocolate.

Eddie: Sounds like you’ve got a crush. 

Buck: Eddieeee 

Eddie: I’m just teasing you. It’s cute.
Did you get his name? 

Buck: Not his first name :(
But his team called him Diaz 

Eddie, who’s sprawled on his bed like a crab flipped by a brutal wave, freezes. 

There’s no way, right? These things don’t happen in real life. There’s no way that the beautiful, rich-eyed man that Buck’s describing is him. Buck did not take one look at the exhausted, gross-smelling heap of a man sleeping near the tents and think: beautiful. 

Maybe it was another Diaz. There are plenty of them out there. Hundreds in LA, alone, probably. 

Eddie rolls onto his stomach, brows knitted as he responds. 

Eddie: He was a firefighter?

Buck: Yeah, station six. I sent him home. He looked like he had a rough night

Okay. There’s only one Diaz at station six. This is, unfortunately, pretty concrete. He met Buck. Buck — with soft sky blue eyes and a blotchy strawberry birthmark, with broad shoulders and steady, warm hands, with a strong jaw and soft, billowing muscles. Buck—

Oh. 

Eddie’s fucked. He doesn’t know why, and he refuses to investigate how, but he knows deep down to his core just one thing: he’s absolutely fucked.

Eddie: I’m sure he appreciated a friendly face.

Buck: Yeah. I appreciated his face, too.

Eddie: Okay, Buck. 

Buck: Sorry
Soy* 

Eddie: Don’t apologise
Actually do apologise
For the soy 

Buck: What have you got against soy? 

Eddie: Allergic. 

Buck: Wait actually? 

Eddie: No.

Buck: I’d put you in a headlock if I could 

Eddie: Not strong enough? 

Buck: I’m literally not there physically. I could totally take you in person
And I felt bad! I don’t mock allergies! They’re serious!

Eddie: But you’ll mock my broken keyboard. Okay.

Buck: There are levels to this Eddie
And I’m going through a crisis here

Eddie: Over your crush?

Buck: I literally just realised I like men
Be nice 

Eddie: I am nice 
Why are you in crisis over this? 

Buck: I’ve never consciously wanted to lick a man before
Which is a thing I’m experiencing now
Retroactively
He looked like the kind of guy who has washboard abs
I was so sleep-deprived he was kind of like a siren. You know how they’re always exactly your type?
Diaz was like… man. MAN
I didn’t even know I had a type. But I do now.

Eddie: Wow 

Buck: Bad wow? 

Eddie: No. Just a friendly wow 

Eddie stares up at the ceiling for a moment, wondering if he’s coming across as flustered as he feels, and also if there is such a thing as a friendly wow. Because, if there is, his wow was not that. It was a blustering wow. An embarrassing wow. A wow that spoke volumes, all of them tinged with an undeniable edge of homoeroticism. There’s no way around it. Buck met Eddie once, unknowingly, and decided he’s attractive enough to crush on. He might not feel the same if he knew Eddie was… well, Eddie, but— this is a start. 

And Eddie’s very much in the same boat. 

Because he is also experiencing a crisis. Over Buck. Over Buck who is a man, who he wants to lick. Like Buck wants to lick him. Maybe they could lick each other, just to get it out of their systems. 

Or they could date. And— and hold hands, sometimes. Maybe cook dinner together in the same kitchen. They could take Christopher to the aquarium, and plan picnics in the park, and visit each other at their respective stations on the days their schedules don’t line up and bring coffee for everyone, and— Eddie would be so good at it, at being Buck’s partner. He’d win Bobby, Buck’s captain, over. He knows he would. 

Eddie blinks. Reverts his gaze to his phone. 

Buck: What do I do? 

Heart in his throat, Eddie replies. 

Eddie: Text him. 

Buck: I don’t have his number 

Eddie: Maybe you do 

Buck: What
How?
Hello? 

Eddie: Night, Buck

Buck: Talking to you is like talking to a troll guarding a bridge 

Eddie: Answer these riddles three  

Buck: You hate me 

Eddie: I don’t hate you, bud.
Goodnight :) 

Buck: Sleep well Eddie :)
Glad you’re okay
Dream of riddles

Through some Internet sleuthing, Eddie is able to determine that Buck belongs to the 118. He does this after he’s spoken to Bobby, who, he’d like to point out, offers him a spot on A-shift ten minutes into their very first phone call. At this point, Eddie might have to revisit his previously held belief that the Internet is evil. Though the fact that the information was so easy to obtain is mildly concerning. He really can’t believe Buck had at any point ragged on Eddie for his lacklustre grasp on internet safety.

Buck has his station in his Instagram bio—an Instagram that is littered with an array of shirtless images that Eddie only very briefly gawks at before locking his phone, suddenly afraid someone will peer over his shoulder and catch him.

In his own bed. At home. 

He comes back to Buck’s Instagram account an hour later, where he accidentally likes a photo from four years ago before locking his phone again. 

Buck doesn’t call him out because he’d have no reason to. Eddie has a private account, a username consisting entirely of numbers, and no profile picture. He is internet safety personified. It has nothing to do with the fact he can’t figure out how to change his name, and the one time he asked, Adriana laughed so hard she snorted before Eddie hung up on her. 

Buck and Eddie keep texting. Buck even suggests they meet up at some point for a casual coffee. He also tells him that there’s no pressure, that they can wait until after Eddie’s transferred stations, and Eddie’s chest swells with so much fondness he worries he might explode. 

As subtly as possible, Eddie doesn’t take him up on this. He knows, if he does, he’ll do something stupid like kiss Buck the second they sit down at a table, and he really, really needs this transfer. Station 118 will be a better fit overall, and he thinks maybe Bobby might’ve been onto something when he’d said he had a perfect partner for Eddie.

So, he bides his time. 

The day of Eddie’s transfer is as nerve-wracking as it is exciting. He drives Chris to school, double-checks his hair in the reflection of his car window, and smooths his uniform down with sweaty palms three times before approaching station 118. 

And then he’s standing there, in front of the bay doors. A few steps away from a new chapter of his life. 

Buck knows this is first day, of course. But he doesn’t know Eddie’s here. Doesn’t know Eddie will be here for the foreseeable future, and— 

God. Maybe Eddie’s being crazy. Maybe he should have asked Buck if this was okay first. Shit, he probably should have mentioned it at least, as a possibility. He should have gauged the vibe. 

It is too late to gauge the vibe now. 

In his pocket, Eddie’s phone buzzes. Tearing his gaze from one of the fire engines, Eddie fumbles for his phone. 

Buck: You’ll do great, Eddie
Your new team’s gonna love you 

Exhaling slowly, Eddie feels himself relax. It’s just Buck, he reminds himself. He’s not going to bite his head off. 

Biting his lip around a smile as he types, Eddie steps into the bay.  

Eddie: You think so? 

Buck: I know so 

Eddie: What are you doing right now? 

Buck: Coffee :D

Eddie: Where? 

Buck: Uh
Station loft
Why? 

Eddie: No reason
:) 

Luckily, the bay is entirely void of people. This makes it easy to traverse the short distance to the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time, before— 

He spots him. Buck. Leaning against the counter next to the percolating coffee pot, typing on his phone. Eddie’s stomach flutters with butterflies. 

Buck is as beautiful as he was that day at the pier, with his honey-brown hair, tongue caught between his teeth, something like delight written all over his face. 

In his hand, Eddie’s phone buzzes. He glances down at it, smiling at Buck’s reply. 

Buck: Ur so mysterious. A man of mystery. The mystery man.
LMK when you’ve met your new team? I wanna vet them 

Eddie: Meeting them now 

With that, Eddie pockets his phone and scuffs his foot against the floor. 

Buck looks up. His eyes widen, mouth falling open. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. “I’m Eddie. New recruit.” 

Buck visibly buffers for a solid ten seconds. He comes back to himself in a flurry of movements, stepping around the counter to approach Eddie before halting suddenly. 

“I– um.” Buck’s voice cracks. “What— I— Eddie. Are you serious?” 

Eddie’s heart speeds up. “Yep.” 

Blinking too fast, Buck nods sort of like a bobblehead. “R-right. Right. But— why? You— here? How?” 

“New recruit,” Eddie says again, nerves and excitement making his voice breathier. “I told you, bud.” 

“Eddie, I—” Buck laughs, mouth stretching into a disbelieving, megawatt grin. “Holy shit, Eddie. I thought I was, like, cheating on you. With— with my crush on Station 6 Diaz. But you’re the same person, so now I’m crushing on one person again. Just one. Holy shit. Also, no pressure, I just— wow. This is good for me, personally. ‘Cause I’m really into the monogamy thing these days.” Buck freezes, eyes widening as he holds his hands up. “And you don’t have to worry about this. M-my feelings, I mean. I can keep it under wraps. I can and will get over you.” 

“Buck–”

“Seriously, I’m just– you’re here! You weren’t here, and now you are here, and you were at the pier, and you– holy shit.”

“Breathe.”

Buck sucks in enough air to lift a hot air balloon off the ground. Eddie reaches out, hand finding the crook of his shoulder, thumb tucking into the hollow of his collarbone.

Choking on the breath, Buck splutters, eyes wild. “I–”

“Don’t get over me,” Eddie says. “Or station six Diaz. He’s— I’m into you, too. So.”

“Oh my god,” Buck breathes, “Growlmasteronaboat was right.”

It knocks a startled laugh out of Eddie, cheeks heating at the memory. “I hate that you remember that.” 

“It was the day we first spoke! It’s monumental, it’s—” Buck halts, then, like he’s realising he’s sped right past Eddie’s confession. He blinks a few times in rapid succession, then glances around at the loft space. Far to their left, two of their teammates are staring at them with cocked brows and coffee held to their mouths. Buck sighs, eyes finding Eddie’s again, gentling instantly. “Your timing sucks. I can’t even kiss you till we’re off shift.”

Eddie wrestles with the instinct to kiss the pout off of Buck’s mouth in front of God, his new team and the entire station. 

“Waited this long, man,” Eddie murmurs, “I think you can wait a day.”

“I think you’re seriously overestimating my patience,” Buck insists, eyes drifting down and lingering at the pink dip of Eddie’s cupid’s bow. 

Eddie laughs, squeezing his shoulder. Even through his shirt, Buck’s skin is so, so warm. Eddie wants to press his face there, to melt against the heat of him. “I promise you’ll survive.”

In the end, Buck isn’t the one who caves before their shift ends. After two med calls, wrangling a group of teenagers having a shared weed-induced panic attack, a small kitchen fire, and a loose, apparently domestic, tiger — Eddie’s had enough. Buck’s hair is sweat-damp, curled at the ends, just like it’d been the day he met him. He’s flushed in the face from sprinting, still huffing a little as he climbs out of the engine.

As soon as their team has dispersed, Eddie, as subtly as possible, nudges him toward and then into the storage closet. Buck flicks the light on, blinking down at him.

Eddie tries to say something. Anything. But his hands move quicker than his mouth, one slipping around the side of Buck’s neck and tugging him down as the other curves around Buck’s hip, pulling them flush together.

Buck makes a noise that sounds thrilled and also like a startled bird against Eddie’s mouth before kissing back, his hands cupping both sides of Eddie’s face, the force of the movement knocking Eddie back against the door.

Eddie’s never kissed someone like this before. He’s liked kissing—admittedly it’d always been his favourite part of sex—but this is… he feels insane with it. Like he’s licking heaven itself out of Buck’s mouth as he dives back in, stealing another kiss and Buck’s breath along with it.

After a beat, Buck pulls back, sucking in a ragged breath. Eddie pants right along with him, overwhelmed with a feeling of rightness he’s never felt before. He wants to glue himself to Buck’s side, wants to introduce him to Chris and ask him to move in, wants to cook for him and dote on him and kiss him again and again and again. 

And— he can. He can, if he plays his cards right. 

Which is crazy. Eddie never gets this lucky. 

“Wow,” Eddie says, and Buck laughs, ducking his head. Eddie’s helpless to the way his chest swells at the sight. 

“Wow,” Buck echoes. 

“Beer?” Eddie says, thumb tracing a circle into Buck’s neck. “After work?” 

“Beer,” Buck agrees, his grin wide and boyish. He leans into Eddie’s touch, inching closer like he might kiss him again. Eddie sways closer, but then— 

“Buckley! Diaz! Where’d you guys go?” 

Buck’s eyes fall closed. “Chimney.” 

Eddie snorts. Softly, he says, “It’s okay. After work, right?” 

“After work,” Buck confirms, grim, like leaving this room is the equivalent of walking the plank. 

And then, just because he can, because he can’t help himself, he grabs Buck by the collar and slots their mouths together again. Buck’s hand slides into his hair, tugging, and Eddie fights the urge to stick his tongue down Buck’s throat because—work. They have work. Together.

Because Buck is his partner now. His work partner, and maybe— maybe just his partner, at some point in the future. Soon. 

And again, eyes soft as he pulls back, Buck breathes, “Wow.”