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Buck had spent the entire morning getting ready. A-Shift had lucked out this year with the Fourth of July off, and Buck had volunteered to host this year's barbecue, eager for an excuse to show off his new backyard.
He'd baked red, white, and blue sugar cookies, marinated the ribs, and prepped every side dish, all while trying to keep up with the world's most energetic four-year-old.
Even so, by the time the clock crept toward six, there was still plenty left to do.
Buck turned his back for one second.
One measly second.
By the time he looked up again, Theo had somehow unearthed a Sharpie from Buck's desk drawer and was sprinting toward the pristine white living room wall.
"No!" Buck yelled, abandoning the sheet pan of freshly baked cookies on the stovetop as he lunged after him.
"Theo, put it down!"
The front door swung open.
Eddie stepped inside, hauling a rolling cooler with Christopher close behind.
Taking in the scene in an instant, Eddie released the cooler's handle and intercepted Theo before he could reach the wall, scooping him up from behind in one smooth motion.
"Eddie!" Theo shrieked excitedly, dissolving into giggles.
With practiced ease, Eddie plucked the marker from Theo's hand and passed it to an exhausted-looking Buck.
"Thanks," Buck muttered, slipping the Sharpie into his pocket before dragging the cooler farther into the house, out of Christopher's path. "You're early."
"Figured we could lend a hand," Eddie said, shifting Theo onto his hip as he made his way farther into the house.
Buck let out a dramatic sigh. "How'd you know I was in the weeds? The ribs were supposed to go on an hour ago."
Eddie just chuckled, shaking his head.
"Because you're extra." He started counting on his fingers. "Ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs... and, what? How many sides and desserts?"
"Only six sides and four desserts," Buck said defensively. "I want everyone to have options."
Eddie stopped walking and stared at him.
"Buck... are you hearing yourself?"
Buck frowned. "What?"
Eddie looked at Theo, pinching his cheek. "Theo, are you hearing this?"
Theo nodded with grave seriousness.
"I know," Buck admitted with a sigh. "Can you keep an eye on him while I get the ribs on the grill?"
"You got it." Eddie bounced Theo lightly on his hip. "Anything else we can help with?"
"Yeah." Buck pointed toward the dining room. "The decorations are in the Target bag on the table."
A few hours later, the sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, casting the backyard in a warm golden glow.
Everyone was scattered across the patio and lawn, balancing paper plates on their laps or gathered around the picnic table, laughter drifting through the evening air.
Buck sat beside Theo, carefully cutting his hot dog into bite-sized pieces before finally turning to his own plate.
"Buck, these are the best ribs I've ever had," Harry declared, barbecue sauce smeared across his mouth.
Buck laughed. "Thanks. I used Bobby's barbecue sauce recipe."
Harry grinned.
"Must be why they're so good."
"Must be," Buck agreed, a wistful smile tugging at his lips.
Finally, Buck dug into his own well-earned dinner.
Eddie slid into the chair beside him, setting an ice-cold bottle of Coke in front of Buck before taking a sip of his beer.
"Thanks," Buck said around a bite of macaroni and cheese.
Eddie nodded toward the spread across the table.
"The food's incredible, by the way."
Buck shot him a smug look. "See? All the extraness paid off."
"It did," Eddie admitted before turning to Theo. "What do you think, buddy? How's Buck's cooking?"
Theo looked up from his plate, ketchup decorating both his cheeks and his hands.
"Good!"
Before anyone could stop him, he reached for another piece of hot dog with his fingers, completely ignoring the fork resting beside his plate.
Eddie smirked.
Buck sighed fondly, grabbed a napkin, and wiped Theo's face before cleaning the ketchup from his sticky little hands. Then he pressed a kiss to the side of Theo's head and nudged the forgotten fork toward him.
"Use it."
With an exaggerated huff, Theo picked up the fork and resumed eating.
Buck poked him gently in the side.
"Love you."
Theo didn't even look up.
"Love you too," he mumbled around a mouthful of hot dog.
A sharp boom cracked through the neighborhood.
The conversation around the table faltered for half a beat as everyone's attention drifted toward the streak of red bursting above the rooftops.
Another followed, blooming gold against the darkening sky.
Buck rolled his eyes.
Fireworks were illegal in Southern California for a reason. With the dry brush and constant wildfire threat, it simply wasn't worth the risk.
He was grateful A-Shift had the holiday off this year. Fourth of July shifts were always brutal—call after call for brush fires, structure fires, and people who had somehow managed to blow off part of a hand. There were more severed fingers packed on ice than Buck cared to remember.
Another explosion echoed closer this time.
Buck instinctively looked toward Theo, who was craning his neck toward the sky, eyes wide with wonder.
"Can we see?" he asked, bouncing in his seat.
"No."
"Why not?" Theo whined.
"Because—"
Out of the corner of his eye, Buck caught Eddie stiffen, knuckles pale against his beer bottle.
"You okay?" Buck whispered in his direction.
Eddie blinked, as if he'd been somewhere else for a second.
"Hm?" His smile returned just as quickly. "Yeah."
Another firework detonated, louder than the last.
Eddie's shoulders jerked almost imperceptibly.
It was so brief Buck almost convinced himself he'd imagined it.
Then Christopher said something to Theo, the two boys dissolving into giggles, and Eddie's attention shifted back to them as though nothing had happened.
Buck let it go.
Later that evening, after the last streaks of orange had disappeared beyond the horizon, everyone gathered in a loose circle around the fire pit, swapping stories from Fourth of July shifts over the years.
Christopher, Denny, and Mara had migrated inside, their laughter drifting through the open back door as they took turns on Christopher's Switch.
Nash had long since passed out in Chimney's lap.
Jee was curled up asleep on the lounge chair beside Buck's hot tub, one tiny hand still clutching the corner of a throw blanket.
And Theo...
Theo was somehow operating on an entirely different fuel source.
He tore across the backyard in endless circles, chasing a soccer ball he'd been kicking against the fence for the better part of twenty minutes. Every time it bounced back, he'd sprint after it with renewed determination, like a self-imposed game of fetch.
Karen watched him with open bewilderment.
"Does he ever run out of energy?"
Buck laughed.
"He'll wear himself out eventually."
"You should figure out how to bottle whatever's powering him," Karen said. "You'd make millions."
"No kidding."
Another fifteen minutes passed.
Chimney was in the middle of recounting a fireworks call involving a Roman candle, a lawn chair, and one spectacularly bad decision when Theo wandered over without a word.
He climbed into Buck's lap, curled against his chest, and let out one tiny sigh.
Buck barely had time to wrap an arm around him before Theo was out cold.
It was as if someone had reached over and flipped a switch.
The conversation around the fire dissolved into quiet laughter.
"I stand corrected," Karen whispered.
Buck smiled down at the sleeping boy, brushing his sweat-damp off his forehead.
Suddenly, a cacophony of fireworks shrieked through the night sky—exploding with a resounding boom—and dissolving into brilliant colors.
Across the circle, Eddie jerked violently.
His eyes squeezed shut. His shoulders curled inward.
Chimney's smile vanished.
He shot Buck a quick glance before turning toward Eddie.
"Eddie—"
Before he could finish, Eddie was already on his feet.
His movements were rigid, almost mechanical. His breathing had turned shallow, his chest rising and falling too quickly.
Without a word, he crossed the yard and disappeared through Buck's back door.
Silence settled over the group.
The fireworks continued in the distance, but around the fire pit no one spoke.
No one seemed quite sure what to do.
One by one, their eyes found Buck.
Buck stood, passing Theo to Athena's waiting arms.
Buck found Eddie sitting on the floor of the bedroom, his back braced against the side of the mattress.
He was staring straight ahead.
His eyes were distant and unfocused, his breathing quick and shallow.
Buck quietly lowered himself to the floor beside him.
"Eddie."
No response.
Buck rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Eddie flinched violently.
His head snapped toward Buck, wide, frightened eyes finally finding his face. His chest heaved with every ragged, shallow breath.
"Hey," Buck said softly. "You're okay."
Eddie's breathing only hitched harder. The sound of fireworks still echoing through the room.
"Breathe with me."
Buck drew in a slow, deliberate breath, holding it for a beat before exhaling just as slowly.
"That's it," he murmured. "Breathe."
Eddie tried to follow him, managing only a shaky inhale before his breath caught in his throat.
"Again."
Another breath.
This one came a little easier.
"And out."
With a trembling hand, Eddie scrubbed it over his face before covering his eyes entirely.
Buck waited. He didn't fill the silence. Didn't ask questions.
He simply stayed beside Eddie, matching the slow rhythm of his own breathing and hoping, eventually, Eddie's would follow.
Outside, another volley of fireworks erupted. The muffled booms still carried through the walls, but they were distant now.
"Eddie."
Eddie lowered his hand just enough to look at him.
"Can you look at me for a second?"
It took a moment, but his tear-stained eyes found Buck's.
"That's it." Buck nodded encouragingly. "You're here. You're at my house."
Another breath.
"Your house," Eddie repeated hoarsely.
"Yeah."
"The fireworks..."
"I know, you don't have to explain."
A humorless laugh escaped Eddie.
"I thought I was over this. Fireworks don't usually bother me."
"You got triggered," Buck bumped his shoulder gently against Eddie's. "Happens to the best of us."
The words settled between them. Outside, another boom rattled the windows.
Eddie's shoulders tightened again.
Buck noticed immediately.
"Come here."
He climbed onto the mattress first, leaning back against the headboard before patting the space beside him.
After only the briefest hesitation, Eddie pushed himself onto his feet.
His legs were unsteady. He climbed onto the bed next to Buck.
Neither of them spoke.
The fireworks continued to pop in the distance, each one a little quieter than the last.
Eddie stared at his hands.
"I hate this."
Buck's chest tightened.
"I know."
Another long silence stretched between them.
"What can I do?" Buck asked quietly.
Eddie swallowed hard.
"...Make it stop."
The words were barely more than a whisper.
Buck's heart ached.
If he could've silenced every firework in Los Angeles, he would've.
"I think I have an idea," he said instead. "Give me one minute. I'll be right back."
Buck slipped off the bed as carefully as he could.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, he found Christopher watching him from the living room, his posture rigid with worry.
Buck offered Christopher a reassuring smile as he crossed into the entryway.
Bingo.
His noise-canceling headphones sat on the console table exactly where he'd left them.
Behind him came the familiar click-clack of Christopher's crutches.
"Is my dad okay?"
Buck paused before turning around.
"He's having a hard time with the fireworks," Buck said gently.
Christopher's face fell.
"But I'm with him," Buck continued. "He's safe, and he's going to be okay."
Christopher nodded, though the worry never quite left his expression.
"Enjoy the party," Buck said, offering him a small, reassuring smile as he started back down the hall. "I promise I'll take care of him."
Christopher hesitated for a moment before giving another quiet nod.
"I know you will."
Buck slipped back into the bedroom.
Eddie had curled onto his side in the few moments Buck had been gone, his knees drawn toward his chest and one arm draped over his eyes. Even through the walls, the distant percussion of fireworks continued to punctuate the night, and Buck could see Eddie tense almost imperceptibly with each explosion.
Without saying anything, Buck knelt beside the bed and unzipped the hard case containing his headphones.
"They're noise-canceling," he said quietly. "Let's see if this helps."
Eddie lowered his arm just enough to look at him.
Buck gently settled the headphones over Eddie's ears before reaching for his phone. He opened a playlist he'd been building for years—a collection of mellow acoustic songs and old classic rock that Eddie always seemed to gravitate toward.
He pressed play.
Soft guitar chords filled the headphones.
Buck watched some of the tension ease from Eddie's face almost immediately.
"There you go," Buck murmured. "Just listen to the music."
Eddie closed his eyes.
Several long minutes passed without either of them speaking.
Buck remained beside him, absently tracing slow circles against the comforter with his fingertips, content simply to be there if Eddie needed him.
Eventually, Eddie shifted.
The movement was tentative, almost hesitant, as though he wasn't entirely aware he was doing it.
He inched across the mattress until the space between them disappeared, then leaned into Buck's side and rested his forehead against his shoulder.
Buck's heart raced.
He adjusted without thinking, sliding farther onto the bed until he could sit comfortably against the headboard. He slipped an arm around Eddie's shoulders, allowing Eddie to settle wherever he needed to.
Eddie let out a slow breath that shuddered on its way out.
Another firework echoed faintly in the distance.
This time, he didn't flinch.
Buck rested his cheek lightly against Eddie's hair, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles over his shoulder.
Neither of them spoke.
After a while, the steady rise and fall of Eddie's breathing settled into soft, familiar snores.
Buck smiled to himself. He didn't dare move.
A gentle knock sounded against the partially open bedroom door before it eased open another few inches.
Maddie peeked inside with Theo standing in front of her, already dressed in dinosaur pajamas. His hair was damp. Maddie must've given him a bath.
"Theo wanted to say goodnight before bed," Maddie whispered.
Buck's smile softened.
"Come here."
Theo padded quietly across the room, making an exaggerated effort to tiptoe. He stopped beside the bed, glanced at Eddie asleep against Buck's shoulder, then looked back up at Buck.
"Night, Buck," he whisper-shouted, lowering his voice only enough to make it marginally quieter than normal.
Buck chuckled under his breath.
"Goodnight, buddy."
Theo seemed satisfied with that.
He slipped his hand back into Maddie's.
She smiled knowingly at the scene in front of her before her gaze drifted toward the hallway behind her.
"We've got everything handled out there," she said quietly. "Take care of him."
Buck was eternally grateful.
"Thank you. I will."
She eased the door closed behind her, taking Theo with her.
The room fell silent again.
Buck looked down at Eddie, whose face had relaxed completely in sleep, the tension finally gone from his brow.
Without thinking, Buck brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead.
Then he settled a little deeper into the pillows, tightened his arm just enough to keep Eddie comfortably tucked against his side, and closed his own eyes.
Morning came slowly.
Buck woke to pale sunlight slipping through the curtains and the dull, uncomfortable awareness that he had fallen asleep in jeans. His neck ached from the awkward angle of the pillows, his shirt was wrinkled beyond saving, and his mouth tasted faintly like barbecue smoke and chocolate cake.
For a few seconds, he stayed exactly where he was, caught in that soft, disoriented space between sleep and waking.
Buck blinked.
He turned his head toward the other side of the mattress, expecting to find Eddie still tucked against him, headphones crooked over his ears, and one hand curled loosely into the comforter. Instead, there was only the faint impression of where Eddie had been sleeping, the sheets rumpled and cooling.
Something in Buck's chest sank.
It was stupid. He knew it was stupid before the feeling had even fully formed, but that didn't stop the hurt from slipping in anyway.
Buck worried that Eddie had come back to himself in the quiet aftermath of the night before and felt embarrassed by it, uncomfortable with how close they'd been, with the way he had pressed himself into Buck's side like it was the only safe place left in the world.
Buck swallowed and pushed himself upright, dragging a hand over his face.
He told himself not to make it about him.
It wasn't about him.
Eddie had been triggered. Eddie had needed help. Eddie had needed someone steady enough to sit with him through it, and Buck had been there because of course he had been there. That was what they did for each other.
Still, the empty space beside him hurt more than Buck wanted to admit.
He was reaching for his phone on the nightstand when he heard a soft noise from the hallway.
A second later, the bedroom door opened.
Eddie stepped inside wearing an old pair of sweatpants and a faded LAFD T-shirt that belonged to Buck.
He paused when he saw Buck sitting up.
"Hey," Eddie said, voice still rough with sleep.
Buck tried to make his smile easy.
"Hey."
Eddie glanced toward the bed, then back at him.
"I had to use the bathroom," he explained. "And I figured I should probably change out of yesterday's clothes before I permanently fused with my jeans."
Buck let out a quiet laugh, some of the tightness in his chest easing despite himself.
"Yeah, I might be a lost cause."
Eddie's gaze dropped over him, taking in the wrinkled button-down, the jeans, the belt still buckled around his waist.
Eddie's expression softened.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Eddie crossed the room and sat carefully on the edge of the mattress, close enough that his knee brushed Buck's.
The contact was small, barely anything at all, but Buck felt it everywhere.
"Last night..." Eddie began.
Buck looked down at his hands.
"You don't have to talk about it."
"I know."
Eddie was quiet for a beat.
"I want to."
Buck looked up.
Eddie stared at the floor, jaw tense, fingers twisting together in his lap.
"I don't really know what happened," he admitted. "One second I was outside, and the next it was like I wasn't here anymore. Not fully."
Buck's throat tightened.
"Yeah."
"I could hear everyone, but it felt far away. Then the fireworks kept going, and I couldn't get my body to understand it wasn't..." Eddie stopped, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
Eddie took a slow breath.
"Thank you," he said finally.
Buck shook his head immediately.
"Eddie—"
"No." Eddie looked at him then, eyes tired but steady. "I'm serious. Thank you for coming after me. For the headphones. For letting me stay."
Buck's chest ached again, but softer this time.
"I'll always let you stay."
Eddie's expression shifted, something complicated passing over his face.
Eddie looked toward the window, where morning light painted the room gold.
"Hopefully, no more fireworks," he said.
"Not unless my neighbors are extremely committed to making terrible choices before breakfast."
That earned him another small smile. Eddie glanced back at him.
For a long moment, he simply looked at Buck.
Buck held his gaze, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting. Close enough that their knees still brushed, close enough that he could make out the flecks of amber in Eddie's brown eyes, close enough that his heart had started beating a little too fast.
"What?" Buck asked with a nervous laugh.
Eddie opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
He looked as though he wanted to say something, changed his mind, then changed it back again.
Buck waited.
Eddie exhaled slowly, almost to himself.
Then, before Buck could even begin to guess what he was thinking, Eddie leaned forward.
The kiss barely lasted a second.
Just the softest brush of Eddie's lips against Buck's.
By the time Buck's brain caught up to what had happened, Eddie had already pulled away.
They stared at each other.
Buck was certain his entire face had stopped functioning.
Eddie looked no less stunned.
"I..." Eddie rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, a flush creeping into his cheeks. "I don't know why I—"
Buck didn't let him finish.
He leaned forward this time.
His own kiss was just as gentle, lingering only a heartbeat longer before he pulled back.
Relief spread across Eddie's face so quickly it was almost tangible.
It started as the smallest smile Buck had ever seen, then grew until it reached his eyes.
Buck couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Eddie look that light.
"I'd kiss you properly, but I don't think it's fair to subject you to my violently horrific morning breath."
Eddie's lips curved into a slow smile.
"Go brush your teeth," he said.
Buck raised an eyebrow.
"And then come kiss me properly."