Archive of Our Own

2 weeks in

Her younger brother was still ruffled from sleep when he answered the door, tawny curls sticking out in every direction but down, gray T-shirt wrinkled like it had spent the night on the floor. Yet there was a nervous glimmer in his eyes that had her thinking he’d already been awake when she knocked. And was it just her imagination, or did he look entirely taken off guard by her presence on his doorstep?

“Maddie!” Buck puffed, plastering on a grin.

“Good morning,” she replied. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Uhhh, no. No, not at all. I was just—” He slung a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing noncommittally towards the bedroom. “—Uh, getting dressed.”

“Really?” She swept her eyes over him. And here she’d thought his wardrobe had generally been improving the last few years. “Your shirt is on inside out.”

He glanced down at himself, noticed the fact, and flushed pink at just the tips of his ears. “Well, that must’ve been… in the dark.” He looked up at her. “I like to get dressed in the dark.”

“Oh. Sure.”

There was a moment’s hesitation where they just stared at each other. She was tempted to pull out her phone and check the calendar, make sure she'd gotten the date right—but she was an anxious planner by nature, and she'd already done that before heading out the door this morning. Twice. She knew she'd made no mistake. Buck, however, wasn't exactly a stranger to losing track of plans. Nobody needed his recent ADHD diagnosis to explain that one.

Maddie held up the coffee cup carrier in her hand. “You didn’t forget, did you?”

She saw the realization hit him full force, the regret too, and he shut his eyes as if it were a physical blow. “Ohhhh,” he groaned.

“You did,” she said mournfully.

“No, I didn’t— well, okay, I did kinda forget, Maddie, I’m sorry, but—”

“You know what, it’s fine, I can just come back later—”

But he was already ushering her inside, his large frame gently herding her through the doorway, one hand taking the drinks from her and the other guiding her by the small of her back. “Absolutely not,” he vowed. “I’m not flaking out on plans we made, like, two weeks ago; that’s crappy.”

“You sure I’m not intruding?” she asked.

“Not even a little bit.”

She hummed, satisfied with the reassurance in his voice. “You did promise me good frittata.”

“A recently perfected recipe, if I do say so myself."

“‘So good, it could make grown men cry’?” she recounted. Buck was always in a state of excitement over one thing or another; the object of his enthusiasm shifting at dizzying speeds but the strength of his conviction never wavering. Last week’s fixation had been his attempts to master the new dish; and at the achievement, she could do little to resist his insistence that she come over soon and try it.

“That’s the one,” he said now.

He was surprisingly perky this morning, given the state of him, and moving like there were sparks at his heels. He was already yanking things from the fridge—cardboard egg carton, almond milk, shiny cloves of garlic, shallot and feta cheese, chopped bell pepper—and igniting the stovetop with quick hands. He looked not unlike a hack magician at a child’s birthday party; frantically maximizing the extravagance of his gestures so as to distract from the coin hidden between his fingers.

“Jeez, where’s the fire?” she asked, leaning against the kitchen island.

His eyebrows shot to his forehead. “W— What do you mean?”

“I mean if this isn’t relaxing, we don’t have to do this right now,” she said. “We really can reschedule, Buck, I don’t mind.”

He gave a breathy laugh. “No, Maddie, it’s all good. I just— totally spaced, you know?”

“Sure.”

He pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and, in the least subtle way possible, turned the screen away from her as he started to type.

She furrowed her brows. “Who are you texting?”

“Uhhhh…” He finished typing, shutting the phone off and slipping it back into his pocket in one swift motion, before looking back up at her. “No one.”

A muffled ding! sounded from behind Buck’s closed bedroom door.

For a minute neither of them moved.

Suddenly beet red and wincing like he’d been punched in the diaphragm, Buck leapt between her and the door, physically blocking her path as if there was any world in which she’d actually want to investigate the noise. Honestly, she’d rather both of them died than go into that room.

“Wha— Are you serious?” she hissed instead, mouth agape where she sat rooted at the counter.

His blue eyes were wide as saucers. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh, good, ‘cause it looks like there’s someone in your bedroom as you’re trying to make me breakfast!” She struggled to keep her voice down, suddenly painfully aware that whoever was on the other side of that door could absolutely hear them. “I mean, seriously, Buck, were you even going to tell me?”

The sheepish look on his face was answer enough.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, pinching her eyes shut. “You’re unbelievable.” Her brain was making a valiant effort at fighting off the images flashing behind her eyelids, but unfortunately, her intrusive thoughts were winning this battle. She suddenly felt itchy to flee.

“I’m so sorry!” he replied, in an equally hushed tone.

“I can’t believe you right now. What made you think you could possibly get away with this?”

“I don’t know, I just felt so bad for forgetting!”

She flung her arm at the door. “Well, you clearly had other things on your mind!”

“I…” His voice trailed off, eyes flicking desperately between her and the room. “I really didn’t mean for this to happen, Maddie. I promise. Can I make it up to you?”

“You can tell me the truth first thing the next time it happens,” she said, pointer finger aimed at his guilty face as she swung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the front door. “Honestly, Buck, you would have spared us both a lot of pain if you’d just told me when I got here. I wouldn’t have been offended or anything, just—” An expression of disgust crossed her face. “Just grossed out.”

He followed her to the door in a whirlwind of frantic energy. “You’re— You’re leaving?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I stick around? Did you want to invite your special friend out to have breakfast and coffee, just the three of us? Oh, speaking of—” she grabbed her keys from the console table, “they can have mine.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

She turned back, halfway out the open door, and placed a firm hand against his chest. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, and meant every word. “I’m not upset. Just— a little embarrassed, honestly.”

He smiled, chastened and blushing. “...You’re not the only one.”

She smiled back up at him, sweet despite the circumstances. She saw his nervous gaze and couldn’t help but think of nine-year-old Evan, bleeding but grinning all the same after yet another crash on the bike, and herself, unable to be truly angry at him through all her relentless fondness. Some things never changed.

She cast a cautious glance towards the bedroom, still sealed shut, and then took a breath to steel herself. “Are you doing okay?”

He blinked, taken off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean—” She sighed, ruminating on the least instigating way to phrase it. “This kind of thing. The one-night-stands. I thought you wanted to stop all that. I mean… What happened to wanting to settle down? Not that you have to, of course,” she quickly revised herself, “there’s no right way to do it, and I’m not judging you for this. I just…” She huffed an incredulous laugh. “Honestly, I just thought you didn’t want to do casual hookups anymore. And I just want to make sure… you’re still doing okay.”

At that point, his eyes had softened like butter. It still amazed her that he took every positive word like the first ones he’d ever heard—or like they’d be the last. It was unbelievable, sometimes, how fragile his capacity to receive love was. But then again, she was no stranger to his parents.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Maddie,” he said, and his tone was genuine. “I’m not struggling. I’m actually... really good right now.”

She exhaled a sharp breath of relief. “Well, that’s what I thought! You’ve seemed really good lately. It’s like you got promoted or something—only I live with your boss, so I know that’s not what happened.”

They both laughed, and he looked at the ground. With mild trepidation, she glanced again towards the closed bedroom door. “I gotta be honest, I wouldn’t have guessed it was this.”

He followed her gaze. “Yeah, I know. This is… something I’m still figuring out.”

A moment passed.

“Okay,” she said affirmingly. “Just keep taking care of yourself. And take care of whoever’s in there, too, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he vowed, holding up his right hand as if he were a key witness and she the presiding judge. “I, uh— I didn’t come this far just to revert back to Buck 1.0.”

“Yuck. But good, I suppose.” She sighed, patted his shoulder, and stepped out the door. “Okay. I’m gonna run away now.”

“Hey, can you do me a favor and not tell anyone about this?”

“Oh, I’m very much going to pretend this never happened!” she said back. “I might even convince myself it was a bad dream!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, okay, good luck with that!”

“Bye, Buck.”

“Bye, Maddie.”

She was back in her car by the time the front door shut, and only then did she slump forward, pressing her forehead to the morning-cooled leather of the wheel and letting out a long, anguished groan. One of these days, she was moving to Oregon. Just you wait.

—

Morning sunlight warmed his back, filtering through the tall kitchen windows behind him and flushing everything, including himself, in a gentle golden glow. Distinct from the warmth, a cold bead of sweat trickled down the nape of his neck. He stood staring at the door Maddie left from. 

He felt terribly guilty; but also terribly relieved—and his heart rate felt as though it would take another half hour to settle from either. That was closer to discovery than they’d ever come. He was only lucky that it had been Maddie to visit, and not Hen or Chim, who both surely would’ve barged into the bedroom without a moment’s hesitation.

At that thought, the bedroom door opened behind him with a steady creak. Soft footsteps padded down the hallway and came to rest just on the threshold to the living room. For a moment, neither of them moved.

“I think she noticed,” Eddie said at last.

Buck snorted and turned around, and there he was: hair mussed akin to Buck’s own, leaning against the doorway with a wry smile on lips still swollen from use. His typically broad shoulders swam in a white T-shirt that was too big for him, and the boxers he wore had the same effect, and both used to belong to Buck before Eddie made a home of them two weeks ago. The way he crossed his arms made every vein and muscle ripple beneath his skin.

Good lord, Buck thought, mouth going a little dry. That man had just been in his bed.

He already wanted to take him right back to it.

“Oh, you think so?” he said instead, sauntering closer but stopping just beyond contact. Still, he noted the way Eddie shifted backwards to match, crowding himself against the wall as if he’d expected Buck to close the distance all the way.

“Just a hunch,” Eddie replied.

“Well, it could have been worse. She only thought you were a random hookup.”

Eddie’s mouth twisted down like he’d tasted something sour. “I wouldn’t call that any better.”

“Why? You jealous?”

“In your dreams, Buckley.” But his hand was already snaking out to Buck’s waist, slipping under the hem of his shirt. His fingertips brushed skin, and Buck shivered.

It’d been two weeks since it first happened; two weeks since they’d finally crossed that line, and they’d certainly made themselves no strangers to each other’s hands since—but Eddie’s touch still made him tremble like it was the very first time. He suspected it would continue to do so for a long time still. This was Eddie, after all. Nothing he ever did fell short of miraculous.

Like now, as his languorous expression transformed into a dazzling grin.

“What?” Buck asked fondly, brows pinching together.

“I’m just imagining your face when she figured it out.”

Buck made a pfft sound and swatted at his shoulder, and Eddie just laughed. “On a scale of one to ten, how red did you get?”

“Uh, I handled it, didn’t I?” Buck fired back. “She didn’t ask any questions.”

“I could hear every word you both said,” Eddie reminded him. “And she most certainly did.”

“Well, at least I did something. It’s not easy coming up with a solution on the spot.”

Eddie raised a brow, clearing his throat dramatically as he pulled his phone from his pocket and brought up their text chain. “Gotta have bfast w Maddie,” he read. “Think you can stay quiet for a bit? Hm. Wonder why that didn’t work.”

“Probably because you don’t know how to turn off your ringer.”

Eddie gave a self-righteous scoff. “I like to stay in the loop!”

“Keep telling yourself that, old man.”

Eddie pinched the skin of his stomach. “Your shirt’s on backwards, genius,” he said, tugging on the hem to reel him in. “And I can only tell because it’s also inside out.”

Buck shuffled obediently closer. “Next time, I’m letting her find you.”

“Mhm,” Eddie replied. His eyes were already darkening with want.

“Eddie!”

They jolted apart as the bedroom door adjacent to them swung open, and 33 pounds of rambunctious toddler catapulted towards them at full force.

“You’re awake!” Eddie exclaimed, the second word cut off with an oof! as Theo launched himself into Eddie’s arms. He hardly wavered, though; sweeping Theo up to his chest with one arm beneath him and the other steadying his back. Buck knew firsthand how deceptively heavy Theo could be, especially when he was squirming with enthusiasm—and yet Eddie handled him like it was nothing at all.

“You’re here,” Theo said in awe.

“Yeahhhh, I am,” Eddie replied, casting a briefly apprehensive glance Buck’s way. Buck only grinned. They’d planned to get Eddie out of here before Theo woke up, like they usually managed, but right now it was impossible to regret the chain of events that had led them to this moment. In fact, Buck was beginning to regret not having totally failed their routine more often.

“You’re up early, Spider-Man,” Eddie said, poking the boy’s belly.

“I heard you!” Theo offered in response. “Are we hanging out today?"

“Not right now, bud,” Buck said, rubbing the boy’s back. “Eddie has to go back to his house pretty soon.”

Theo’s face fell, and Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t understand exactly what the kid was feeling. He was sure his own face looked pretty much the same every time Eddie had to leave in the morning, despite knowing they’d see each other on shift later in the day.

Eddie glanced between their two faces and then boosted Theo in his arms. “You know what?” he said. “Since you’re already up, I might just have a little more time this morning. What do you say I stick around for breakfast?”

It was as if Christmas had come early and Santa Clause himself had walked in the door with a bag of presents. Though Buck wasn’t sure even that would make Theo smile as widely as he did now.

“Really?” Theo said, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, voice warm and sweet as honey. “A chance to hang out with my favorite Buckley in the world? How could I pass that up?”

Theo threw his arms around Eddie’s neck and nuzzled under his chin like a cat. Buck felt as though he was about to burst open from the strength of his adoration.

He met Eddie’s gaze over the boy’s head. “You sure?”

Eddie shrugged. “Chris isn’t gonna be home for another hour,” he said. “Plus—” His eyes glinted. “—I’ve been hearing about this incredible frittata dish.”

“Oh, great,” Buck said, throwing up a hand. “You know, I really should have let Maddie into that room.”

“You love me,” Eddie said in reply.

Buck only grinned, and kissed both his boys on the head, because he really did.

—

When Harry finally advanced from a probie to an official member of the LAFD, of course it warranted a party.

And not just that honorary, city-sanctioned nonsense (Eddie didn’t believe for one second it was actually nonsense—he remembered the ceremony when he’d passed his own probie year as one of the best days of his life—those were Buck’s words, and Eddie hardly bothered arguing with him), but an authentic, personal celebration (also Buck’s words) fitted to Harry’s liking. And the only people who could really put something like that on were the people who’d known him all his life.

So after the ceremony was finished and Harry received his official acceptance as a full-time member of the 118, his until-that-point very dutious coworkers unbuttoned their dress blues and swept him blindfolded from the station into a car that took him to, lo and behold, Athena’s house; which had already been adorned end-to-end with decorations and balloons and banners reading Congratulations Harry! and a huge pile of gifts on the table.

“I can’t believe you guys,” the kid said, the biggest grin on his face as it took it all in. And Eddie had to remind himself again that Harry wasn’t really a kid anymore—he was now one of their own.

“Don’t get used to it, Grant,” Chim said, slapping him on the back. “The next time you get one of these, it’ll be because you got rebar through the skull.”

“Don’t even joke about it, Howard,” Athena said.

The party unfurled like a blooming flower—people relaxed against the couches, chatted across veggie plates in the dining room, went outside to watch the first stars come out. The younger kids sprinted through the living room chasing goblins with pipe-cleaner swords. Buck went to the kitchen to make something at Harry’s request, and, after he’d deemed it an appropriate amount of time, of course Eddie followed him there.

“This seems to be pretty successful,” Eddie said, coming up beside him.

Buck looked up, hands coated in flour, and smiled. “And to think you doubted it. Tsk-tsk, Eddie.”

Nobody on earth had ever said the words “tsk-tsk” aloud in place of making the actual sound. Eddie was so ridiculously endeared by it he could hardly stand up straight.

“I never doubted you,” he corrected. “I just don’t remember ever receiving an afterparty for my promotion ceremony.”

“And I remember having practically my entire leg shattered by the ladder truck a week before, so that might have had something to do with it.”

Eddie shook his head. “Excuses, excuses.” He wasn’t angry in the slightest.

Eddie loved watching Buck bake. His hands were huge, and capable, and utterly sure of themselves as they worked; kneading the dough, smoothing the flour, folding and shaping and creating something beautiful from scratch. It amazed him how Buck could bring something to life from mere ingredients, and not just because Eddie himself was hopeless when it came to baking. He’d found the reverence he was missing in church right here, in Buck’s able hands. This was magic he was watching. This was something sacred.

“What’re you making?” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

“Cinnamon rolls,” Buck replied. “Well, the dough for them. Harry’s staying here with Athena tonight; she’ll actually bake them in the morning.”

“And it’ll… still be good tomorrow?”

“Well, yeah, the dough needs to proof overnight.”

Eddie scratched behind his ear. “Ah, right, of course.”

Buck snickered and plopped a handful of dough on the cutting board next to him. “Here. Help me out with the kneading. Not too much, though.”

At this, Eddie cast a trepidatious glance around the room. People milled about the living room to their right, clustered at the table in front of them, and even occasionally passed through the kitchen to get another drink. Eyes everywhere. Nobody was looking at them now—but would that change the moment they got too close? Where was the line between how they used to be and how they should be acting now? It was something the two of them were still figuring out.

A moment’s hesitation was all it took for Buck to read his mind.

“Don’t worry,” he said, in a voice just quiet enough to not be overheard. “Bobby used to cook beside me all the time; it’s no different.”

Eddie gave him a look. “It’s a little different.”

“I just mean—” Buck laughed. “I was hopeless back then, and he was helping me get better.” He leaned over and nudged Eddie’s arm. “You’re hopeless now, and I’m helping you get better.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Oh-ho-ho, okay, bud.”

“What?” Buck asked, shrugging cheekily. “You’re in capable hands.”

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie started kneading, eyes trained on Buck’s movements and doing his very best to follow them closely. Still, he wasn’t surprised when his first dough ball turned out lumpy and flour-pocketed. Buck only rolled his eyes fondly and had him do it again. It took some time, but soon enough his portions were coming out nearly identical to Buck’s; something he couldn’t help but feel some silly pride about. He tucked the feeling away with all the other good things Buck brought out in him.

As he got more confident, his eyes drifted away from the dough and towards the beacon of light shining at him from across the room. Christopher. He stood by the back door, left arm leaning on a crutch and right clutching a can of Dr. Pepper. He must have gotten the taste for it from his mother; Eddie was much more of a Coca Cola guy himself. It was a point of conflict he and Shannon would tease each other in circles about during high school.

Chris was chatting with Ravi about something that had them both lit up, beaming like two stars you could see even in the city. Ravi said something, and Chris broke out in laughter, and Eddie watched it with a smile he knew would make Chris roll his eyes because it was so sappy.

Eddie couldn’t help it, of course; and he would never try to. There was a time when he thought he’d never see his son laugh or smile again, and it would be his own fault. That time had passed, thankfully; and every day Eddie counted his blessings. Christopher was laughing so often now. Eddie counted every one of those, too.

“They’re definitely plotting against us.”

Eddie looked to his left, and Buck was watching Chris with that very same sappy smile on his face. Of course he was. It bemeaned Eddie to forget—Chris was a beacon for them both.

“You think?” he replied.

“Oh, absolutely,” Buck said. “No way Ravi isn’t jumping at the chance to win Favorite Uncle. I bet he’s promising Chris a new gaming monitor or something.”

“...That I’ll buy for him,” Eddie finished, understanding.

“Well, of course. That’s how the Favorite Uncle works: he makes promises that the parents have to keep. As Jee-Yun’s Favorite Uncle, I’d know all about it.”

“Is that an official title?”

“Oh, yeah. I have a crayon name tag and everything.”

Eddie didn’t doubt it. He saw the starry-eyed way kids got around Buck, like they were looking at the sky up close. Like his every word held enchantment. It was why, even when Buck was sending himself down spirals of panic, Eddie had never for a second believed he wouldn’t be a good guardian for Theo. And how many times had Eddie had to repeat it when the man was panicking the most?—Buck had already proved himself a capable parent long before Theo came along.

“Maybe,” Eddie said now, eyes back on Chris and Ravi. “Or maybe they’re talking future plans. God knows Chris doesn’t talk to me about the future, so I figure he’s gotta be talking to someone.”

“Of course he doesn’t talk to you about it; you’re his dad,” Buck said. “He doesn’t want you to think he sees anything beyond your doorstep.”

“Or maybe he actually doesn’t,” Eddie said, feeling a lot better about that idea.

“Right, exactly. And you’ll be telling yourself the same thing as you help him pack up his room for college.”

Eddie elbowed Buck in the side, and he huffed out a pained laugh. It only worked because Eddie knew when that day finally came, Buck would be just as wrecked as he would be.

“You know, he once told me he wanted to be a firefighter,” Buck said, recoating his hands in flour.

“Really?”

“Yeah. When he was seven, though—not so sure he’s stood by it.”

Eddie huffed. “Thank god. I don’t know how Athena does it—” He gestured at the party around them, the photos of Harry in his 118 gear. “If I had any say in the matter, Chris and Theo would both be— accountants, or something. Minimize risk.”

He realized, then, only after he’d said it, that he’d grouped Chris and Theo together as one. His kid, as much his responsibility as Buck’s. Surely, that had to cross some line.

But Buck only laughed. “If you had any say. Good luck with that.”

Eddie picked up a new wad of dough. “That’s what I figured. So, how about Theo? He told you what he wants to be when he grows up? A race car driver? A superhero? When Chris was that age, he wanted to be a dinosaur.”

“Actually, yeah, he, uh— he just told me the other night. When I was putting him to bed.”

“Yeah? What’d he say?”

Buck looked at him, smile dancing on his lips. “He wants to be Eddie.”

—

Maddie was determined to enjoy the evening, even if it killed her. She said as much to Howie as they drove from the firehouse to Athena’s for the party, and he’d replied, “Don’t you think that’s a bit dramatic?” She’d acquiesced that it was. She could pretend Nash was letting her sleep more than three hours a night. She could muster the energy.

And maybe the party itself didn’t kill her, but she sure looked like she’d been slain when Theo went racing by her on the couch and spilled her entire glass of red wine down her shirt.

“Theo!” she gasped, mouth agape.

The boy screeched to a halt, his little face morphing into one of deep woe. “I’m sorry,” he said, placing a small hand on her knee.

Instantaneously, her anger dissipated. He was barely five, after all, and he’d been chasing after her own kid (who seemed to have made herself conveniently scarce the moment Maddie spilled)—and his doleful little face looked so alike to Buck’s at that age that she hardly had any choice but to instantly forgive him.

 “Oh, honey, it’s okay,” she said, leaning forward and patting his hand on her knee. “It’s only a shirt. I’ll just get a new one.”

“It was an accident,” the boy mumbled.

“I know it was,” she said soothingly. “I’m not even angry, okay?” He still looked guilty, so she tapped his arm with her finger. “What were you running so fast for?”

“Monsters,” he said, hardly pronouncing the r.

She giggled. “Monsters? What monsters?”

“Wolves, and trolls, and dinosaurs, and… umm…” He scrunched up his face, as if concentrating very hard to remember. “...And Bill Cipher!”

Maddie threw her head back and laughed. She knew exactly where he’d gotten that idea from—they’d just finished Gravity Falls with Jee, who’d insisted on watching even the episodes they’d deemed too scary for a six-year-old and, at Maddie’s embarrassment, had delighted in the creatures that still unnerved her adult mother. She just hoped Theo had the same strong stomach as Jee, because she had a feeling Buck would be getting demands to watch the show pretty damn soon. Her daughter could be convincing like that.

“You don’t have to run away from the monsters; they’re not going to hurt you,” she said now.

Theo’s brows furrowed. “No! We’re hunting them!” At that, he unleashed a war cry that might intimidate a skittish puppy. Maddie started and then laughed at herself.

“Oh, well—in that case, I feel very safe,” she said. “Is that your sword?”

Theo held up the thing in his hand: a flimsy styrofoam knife, old paint flaking off the edges and worn completely down at the hilt. “Yeah! It’s mine!” He swiped it threateningly through the air a few times, and she had to lean back so it didn’t catch her across the nose.

“Yeah, I see that. Where’d you get it from?”

“Eddie gave it to me,” the boy said proudly.

Ah, that made more sense. If Maddie had to guess, the toy used to belong to Christopher—that would explain its wear—and now that Chris was a teenager who undoubtedly neglected his childhood games, it had been regifted to Theo; whose unadulterated excitement for the world could turn any old toy into something shiny and brand new.

“Well, that was very nice of Eddie,” she said. “I hope you said thank you.”

“I gave him a hug.”

She smiled, entirely beguiled by the simplicity of his explanation. “I’m sure you did. And I’m sure he loved that.”

Unless she was imagining it, the boy blushed. “Eddie’s my best friend.”

“Oh, no,” she said, raising her brows. “You might have to compete with Buck for that one.”

“No! Eddie’s not Buck’s best friend, he’s my best friend!”

“Is that right?”

“Eddie doesn’t hug Buck; he hugs me, and best friends hug,” Theo explained, in the train of logic only a five-year-old could understand.

Maddie laughed again. This kid was endlessly delightful. “Eddie doesn’t hug Buck?” she asked. This was news to her, who’d seen them hug several times—those two were more physically comfortable with each other than a lot of male friendships.

Theo shook his head. “No! Eddie doesn’t hug Buck, he hugs me. And— And Eddie says I’m his favorite and he likes me more than Buck; so I’m his best friend, too.”

Poor Buck, Maddie thought, though she was smiling at the image of it.

“And— And Eddie sleeps over with us all the time, which best friends do all the time,” Theo carried on. “And sometimes he stays and we play firefighters, which is— which is his job.”

Maddie blinked. “Eddie sleeps over?” she asked.

“He stays in the big bedroom with Buck, but sometimes he leaves before breakfast and I don’t get to say goodbye,” Theo explained. “But– But yesterday he ate breakfast with us and we played together.”

Yesterday?

Yesterday, she’d shown up on Buck’s doorstep and humiliated them both (though that was all Buck’s fault) by discovering the other person in the bedroom. She furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of Theo’s claim. Had Eddie come over after the other person had left? Why would Buck have had someone over when—

It clicked into place with a deafening boom. Oh, she thought. But at first, she hardly dared believe it.

Almost unconsciously, her eyes traced upward from Theo’s face, searching the party until she found them both. They were in the kitchen—she’d seen Buck go in there a bit ago; she hadn’t seen Eddie follow him. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, leaning in tandem over the counter, kneading dough but enraptured entirely in their own conversation. As she watched, Buck leaned over and nudged Eddie with his shoulder. Eddie’s responding smile was dazzling.

Ohhhhhhh, her brain sighed, understanding arriving first and followed almost instantaneously by a bone-deep relief. That makes sense. For so, so many reasons; it made sense. Buck’s recent happiness. The things she could tell he wasn’t saying. Howie’s speculation that his two best men must be in an argument, because they were acting strangely at work. Of course they were.

The realization arrived; and joy swept in at its heels. She watched her brother finally being loved in the way he’d always needed, and couldn’t help the teary-eyed smile that crept its way to her face. Oh, finally.

“Buck’s not Eddie’s best friend,” Theo repeated conclusively, oblivious to the epiphany he’d just brought on.

Blinking away happy tears, she leaned forward and clasped Theo’s hands in her own. “No,” she agreed. “Not quite.”

3 weeks in

For the first time since they’d finally gotten together, their joint day off fell on a weekend. Buck booked a dinner reservation the moment they found out.

When the weekend finally arrived and Buck executed the equivalent of a blind-trust-walk but in an Uber with his hands over Eddie’s eyes, Eddie found himself at the Italian restaurant of a foodie’s dreams. The dining room was lavish, with rich brown lighting and high ceilings; soigné waitstaff gliding past while real grapevines climbed up the walls. He could tell with one look that this wouldn’t be a cheap meal.

“No way you booked the place from that cooking show,” Eddie said, looking around in a sort of amused awe as they waited for the hostess.

“You said you wanted to try it,” Buck replied.

Had he? He must have made some comment along those lines as they’d watched, no doubt salivating at the dishes they prepared on TV, and then forgotten by the time the next restaurant feature was up. He tended to want to try everything they prepared on that show, regardless of how unrealistic the request. But of course Buck had remembered. Tucked it away, kept it safe, and saved it for when the time was finally right.

“How’d you get a reservation?”

Buck shrugged coyly. “I pulled some strings.”

No doubt this meant it was offered by someone he’d saved on the job. Neither of them were the type to feel owed any favors by the people they saved, but sometimes the patients insisted on repaying them; and, well, how could Buck refuse something like this?

Though, as he looked around, a tiny part of him wondered if maybe he should have. This place had all the makings of a dream meal—but one that tended to stay just that: a dream. The fanciness made Eddie squirm a little, because even though Buck had told him to dress nicely, and even though he doubted anyone actually cared that they were there; he couldn't help but feel a little out of place. He was used to beer and pizza with Buck. Making something special of their relationship had never taken more than just having their relationship.

The hostess led them to their place, a table in the back beside a stained glass wall that seemed to be slowly changing color, shifting shades like a river of molten gold.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, the moment the hostess left them.

Buck’s brows pinched together. “It’s too much?”

“No, no— it’s really nice,” Eddie said, quickly shifting tone. “Like, really nice. Did you get a salary bump I don’t know about?”

Buck gave a breathy chuckle. “No, I, uh— I just wanted to do something kind of special, you know? This is sort of our first date, if you think about it. We haven’t really had a chance to…”

“Huh,” Eddie said. He hadn’t thought about it like that, but he supposed Buck was right. Between their jobs, their kids, and their sporadic days off, they hadn’t actually done much other than stealing secret nights at the other’s house or sneaking brief touches throughout a shift. It didn’t feel the least bit inadequate to Eddie, but Buck was probably right—this was something that couples did.

“Well,” he said, straightening the menu. “If that means you’re paying…”

Buck laughed. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. That happens when you’re dating another guy, Eddie. Sometimes they pay.”

“Damn, really?” Eddie clucked his tongue. “Man, I should’ve been doing this all along. Would’ve saved so much money.”

“And probably a good amount of suffering.”

“Meh.”

They fell quiet as the waiter came by to fill their glasses. After a ruminative pause, Buck spoke again. “Would you?”

Eddie looked up from the menu. “Hm?”

“...Would you have wanted to change it? To— To come out earlier, and date a bunch of guys then?”

Eddie sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Probably. I mean, since I didn’t date like a maniac in my twenties, I have to make up for it now with a chain of passionate male lovers.”

“Ah. Of which I’m the first.”

“Right. I figure you’ve got about—” Eddie checked his watch, “—a week left until I move on to the next one; so enjoy it while you’ve got it.”

He could tease Buck about this only because of the conversation they’d willingly failed to have at the start of it all. Barely three days after their first night together, Buck had sat him down with a grave expression that had had Eddie convinced he was about to tell him someone died. Buck had only gotten about four and a half sentences into his speech about wanting to give Eddie the freedom he deserved to explore himself before Eddie had climbed on top of him.

“Don’t ever try to tell me what I deserve,” Eddie had said, from atop the other man’s lap.

And that had been that.

Now, almost three weeks later, Eddie was only more confident in his conviction. Sitting across from Buck, teasing him about something just to bring out the dimple in his smile, was exactly where he wanted to be.

It was for this same reason that he gave his real answer to Buck’s question.

“I wouldn’t change anything,” he said. “Yeah, it probably would have saved me some pain in the short-term, but… all the things I did to hide myself; to— to run away from the truth… Whole time, I was actually running towards something. I mean, I ended up in the right place, didn’t I? All that running brought me to you.”

And though he only said it because it was the truth, and not to serve his own agenda, he was still rewarded with the look on Buck’s face as it melted from astonished to adoring. There was that dimple he loved so much.

After the waiter took their order, they fell into the easy conversation they were used to. They recounted some of the wilder calls from the week, steering clear of the ones that hadn’t gone their way. Eddie talked about Chris’s science project, and Buck fretted about the sitter he’d left Theo with (Eddie reassured him that it would be fine, though he was secretly nervous about it too).

The only distinction between how it felt at home and how it felt now was the razor-sharp edge of Buck’s anxiety, working itself into every word he said. What Eddie had thought arose from his nerves about Theo quickly revealed itself to be of another source entirely. Every time Eddie commented on the restaurant, Buck’s throat bobbed. Every time a waiter passed the table, his eyes followed them like he was only waiting for them to trip and spill something all over them both. It didn’t take long for Eddie to understand where his nerves were coming from. Buck had said it himself—this was technically their first date, and he wanted it to be perfect.

Several times, Eddie opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it. He wanted to reassure Buck that he didn’t have to feel obligated to do anything fancy, that he wasn’t going to up and leave him just because he wasn’t chivalrous enough; that Eddie would be happy spending the rest of their lives on his faded old couch as long as they were sitting beside one another. But Buck had gone through all the trouble of getting them this reservation, and Eddie didn’t want to give the impression that he wasn’t grateful. He was. He couldn’t decide if he was more psyched about the food or the ambiance—but he also knew that his very favorite part would always be the company.

It doesn’t have to be this hard, Buck, he thought, but didn’t dare say aloud.

It was the sheer irrationality of Buck’s anxiousness that made Eddie almost disregard him when suddenly, barely five minutes after their food arrived, Buck gasped and yanked the elaborate floral centerpiece in front of his face.

“Eddie, don’t turn around,” he said, through a mouthful of verdure.

Eddie choked out a laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Athena’s here.”

An ice-cold shock of panic zipped through him; and, despite Buck’s clear instruction not to, he instantly turned to look. It only took a moment of searching to spot her—standing at a distance, beside the front door, a stern look on her face that suggested trouble. For a moment, Eddie had the foolish idea that she must be here to bust them. Then he saw the shine of the detective badge on her chest.

“She must be here on a case,” he mused.

“Then she’s absolutely gonna figure out why we’re here if she sees us,” Buck hissed, still from behind the flower arrangement.

“Well, what do we do?”

Buck paused to think about it. “Go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“Go! She’s gonna come back here any minute, and if she sees us together, she’ll figure it out immediately! Better she spots one of us than both— I can tell her I got stood up, or something.”

“What? Buck, that doesn’t make any—”

“She’s coming. Go-go-go-go-go—!”

Eddie ran. Something about Buck’s urging and more so the idea of Athena’s face if she were to see them spurred him from the table and down the hallway to the bathrooms. He ducked into the men’s room, heart fluttering in his chest. Then he got one look at himself in the mirror and rolled his eyes.

What was he doing? He should be out there enjoying his date with Buck—probably the last official one their schedules would allow for at least another month—rest of the world be damned!

He was about to barge right back out of the bathroom when there was a soft knock on the door. A moment later, Buck poked his head in. “You decent in here?”

Eddie snorted, and Buck came all the way in, shutting the door behind him.

“What if there had been someone else in here with me?” Eddie asked.

Buck shrugged. “I’d riff. I’ve talked myself out of worse.”

“Yeah, I know; I’ve met you.” He nodded towards the door. “Athena leave already?”

“No, but she got distracted before she saw me. I think she found whoever she came here looking for, ‘cause she was moving with purpose and talking into her radio. I took the opportunity to flee in here.”

Eddie sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back against the sinks. “And now what? We skulk in here for the rest of the night?”

Buck chewed on his lip. “I mean… it’s better lit than the restaurant?”

Eddie huffed and stepped forward, placing both hands on the man’s shoulders. He gave them a little rub. “Buck, this is ridiculous. Why do we even care if Athena finds out?”

“Because,” Buck said, “if she finds out, then the first thing she’ll do is tell Hen, and then Hen will tell Chimney, and then Chimney will tell everyone, and—” He sighed. “And maybe I want this to stay ours for just a little bit longer.”

Eddie softened. Of course that was what this was about. He’d forgotten the very reason they’d decided to keep their relationship a secret in the first place—not out of shame, but out of justified precaution. To keep something they were still adjusting to themselves safe from the probing eyes of their friends, just as you’d keep a fragile new seedling from the harshest rays of the sun. They both wanted this to work. And learning it came day-by-day.

“Okay,” Eddie said.

“Y— Yeah?”

“Yeah. Me too.” He nodded towards the exit. “What do you say we ditch this joint and go get street tacos?”

Buck’s smile bloomed like a sun coming to life. “I love you so much.”

—

Only after the door of the police car closed, sealing the suspect inside, did Athena feel she could breathe for the first time all day. When she’d taken this job back in April, she hadn’t known exactly what detective work would entail—and it turned out it was a lot like her old job, only in a headspace far more intimate with the people she tracked down. That was most of the reason why she liked it so much. But it wore on her.

Nevertheless, this one had gone as smoothly as a case like it could. She tracked him, cornered him, and called in the officers before he knew she was even there. And just in time for the end of her shift—she had the rest of the evening off. She was planning a nice night with her couch, a glass of beaujolais, and the 9pm Claws reruns.

Her breath puffed ever-so-slightly as she walked from the parking lot to the street where her department-issued car was. She slowly undid the tie of her ridiculous trench coat as she walked, the one Captain Maynard had gifted her for her farewell party with the police force, insisting it was something every detective needed. She hadn’t been wrong—every other detective Athena had met did have a coat just like this one. That didn’t make it feel any less ridiculous to walk down the street in. But then again, she’d once felt out of place in her officer uniform, too; and she’d made a refuge of it anyway.

She stuttered to a halt halfway out of the restaurant’s parking lot.

It wasn’t the truck itself that caught her eye—Buck was far from the only Angeleno to own a monochrome Nissan Frontier—but rather the sticker in the right back window, which was distinctly Buck. Protect the oceans! it read in baby-blue bubble-letter font, with a smiling cartoon orca leaping over a rainbow. She’d been with Bobby when he bought the sticker for the kid. She remembered the way Bobby laughed when he’d spotted the thing on the shelf during a run-of-the-mill grocery run, tossing it on the checkout counter with a twinkle in his eye.

Buck will love it, he’d said. Athena was gratified to see he’d been right.

Slotting her hands into her pockets, she stopped to inspect the truck more closely. It was definitely Buck’s. Though the sticker had been enough of a clue, the contents of the interior served as her confirmation. A few picture books littered the backseat and a plastic toy firetruck had been discarded on the floor. Theo’s, without a doubt. A Philadelphia Eagles charm dangled by a string from the rearview mirror. The driver’s side sun visor was flipped down, and tucked into it Athena could see a photo of two kids, a blonde-haired boy and a dark-haired girl, embracing in a suburban front lawn. She didn’t need to make out their faces—that would be him and Maddie.

There was a jacket strewn across the passenger’s seat. It didn’t look like it belonged to Buck. The shoulders weren’t quite broad enough to fit him; and it wasn’t in his seat, after all. At least, she sincerely hoped it wasn’t his—that color would never suit his eyes.

So Buck wasn’t here alone. Well, it made sense that if he were at this restaurant, he’d be with another person. Athena herself had even thought it would be a good place to bring a date when she’d walked in, not that this was an observation that did her any good anymore.

Well done, Buckaroo, she thought, thoroughly impressed. How he would’ve gotten a reservation at a place like this was beyond her, but she didn’t much like to think about what kind of persuasion he might’ve pulled out of his back pocket for it. That boy was as capable of sweetness as he was of great naughtiness, and she wanted to stay as far away from the latter as she possibly could.

In fact, she was just about to walk away from the truck when another thought occurred to her. She’d spent yesterday morning at the 118 firehouse after a call that had required her help, and the casual conversation she’d had with Hen popped back into her mind now.

It was a silly lead to be following… but then again, she had nothing better to do now that she was off. Claws could wait another few minutes.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Hen’s number. It took six rings for her to answer.

“Hey, Athena, what’s up?”

“Nothing much now,” Athena replied. “I just finished up that case I was telling you about, though; the serial burglar. Remembered you wanted an update and thought I’d let you know it all went smoothly.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Hen said. “Congratulations, Thena.”

“Thanks, girl. Say, that sleepover you were telling me about yesterday… that’s happening tonight?”

“The boys are beating each other to a pulp on the Xbox as we speak.”

“And that’s… Christopher who’s over with Denny?”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Hen replied, mistaking Athena’s curiosity for skepticism. “First weekend off in a whole month, and you’re telling me Eddie doesn’t want to spend every minute of it with his kid? But, I guess he wanted to go out tonight.” She gave a bemused huff. “I’m honestly more surprised he didn’t leave Christopher with Buck—the babysitter who never says no.”

Athena peered further into the dark truck. “Maybe Buck has something going on tonight, too.”

“Yeah, maybe. Someone who knows those two less than we do would probably say they’re spending the night together,” Hen joked.

Athena straightened up slowly, exhaling through the popping off her back. “That would be something.”

“Of course, they’d be underestimating the strength of totally platonic codependency. Oh, sh— Denny! Keep the violence inside the video game! Athena, I gotta go. Gotta make sure Eddie still has a kid to give back tomorrow morning.”

“Bye, Hen. Good luck.”

After she hung up, Athena took one last look at the truck. There was little she trusted more than her own intuition, even against the worst odds—a long career in the force had given her that. And her gut was telling her she’d stumbled upon an answer she hadn’t even been looking for.

As she strolled back to her own car, she turned her face towards the sky. The emerging moon peered down at her from its bedspread of stars.

Oh, Bobby, she thought. I owe you a boatload of money right about now.

The stars just twinkled back at her.

—

It was a miracle that both Chris and Denny made it through the night in one piece. Between the Xbox and the last bite of dessert, Hen had been pretty sure they’d rip each other to shreds before daybreak.

By breakfast, though, they were much more civil. The boys had stayed up late gaming, so their energy was too sapped for much, and they were back to being pleasant with each other like nothing had ever happened. That seemed to be the way with boys—forgive and forget as easy as anything. Hen meanwhile was still holding grudges from her youth.

Karen was an early riser by nature, and Hen was the very opposite, especially on a weekend off; so by the time she trudged out of bed, the kids were already at the table, waiting on pancakes Karen had sizzling at the stove.

Hen came up behind her with a hand on her back, a soft touch the woman immediately leaned into.

“Good morning,” Karen said. Hen could hear the smile in her wife’s voice. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mmmm, amazing,” Hen murmured. “Coffee?

“Already on the pot.” God, she loved this woman.

Hen tucked her chin into the crook of Karen’s neck, looking over her shoulder at the stovetop. “Pancakes?”

“The best sleepover breakfast, so I hear.”

“Let me guess. Denny suggested it?”

“Mara, actually,” Karen said. “The boys wanted Cap’n Crunch.”

Hen snorted, stepping back to grab some coffee. “That actually checks out. I feel bad you had to do all this while I slept in—you could’ve woken me.”

“Babe,” Karen scoffed, her forehead creasing in incredulity. “I know you need to crash after a long shift. And all this is, like, lighting the stove for a couple minutes.”

“Yeah, but still.” She took a much-needed sip of caffeine. “I guess I’m just still amazed that I have such a generous wife.”

“Damn right,” Karen said. “Make it up to me by dropping me off at work today? We can swing by that cafe on the way; make a morning of it?”

Hen smiled. “Done.” They both leaned forward, meeting in the middle with a soft peck on the lips.

“My moms are being gross again!” Denny’s conspicuous voice floated in from the dining table. Hen and Karen broke apart, groaning into laughter.

A few minutes later, Hen carried a plate of steaming pancakes into the dining room, setting it down between two teenage boys who, by the looks of it, had been starving for weeks on end. Hen knew for a fact that they’d gorged themselves on chips and junk food well into the early hours of the morning before finally passing out, but they tore into breakfast now with no less vigor than two wild dogs. Mara could hardly get a hand in to grab one herself. When she finally smacked Denny’s arm out of the way to fill her own plate, Hen smiled down at her lap.

“These are really good, Mrs. Wilson,” Chris said, when Karen finally joined them at the table.

“Oh, thank you, Christopher,” she said. “And for the last time, you don’t have to call me Mrs. Wilson. It makes me feel like my mother.”

“No, sorry; I was raised in Texas.”

Hen snorted in laughter.

“Yeah, mom, these are really good,” Denny agreed, finally having chewed through enough of his huge mouthful to speak in semi-coherent sentences. “Did you do something different?”

“I added nutmeg and vanilla.”

“Ooo, going rogue,” Hen mused.

Karen’s eyes twinkled. “I’m a woman of rebellion now. The status quo fears my name.”

“Buck is gonna be so pissed that I found better pancakes than his,” Chris said, spearing another from the platter with his butter knife.

Karen gasped. “I de-throned the king of the kitchen himself? That’s a real honor.”

“Meh, his breakfasts aren’t really his strong suit anyway. I get so sick of overcooked bacon. And I’m not even allowed to tell him, ‘cause it’ll hurt his feelings.”

Hen smiled. “Eddie looking out for him?”

Chris nodded, sullenly stabbing at another syrup-drowned chunk of pancake. “I don’t get it. We both have to suffer with it, like, every morning. Why not speak up when something’s wrong?”

It didn’t seem to occur to Chris that he’d said anything out of the ordinary, but both Hen and Karen’s eyes snapped to each other at once.

Every morning? Karen mouthed at her, brows inching towards the ceiling.

Hen only shook her head, feeling just as taken aback.

Two plus two equaled four, and two people spending the morning together meant they’d spent the night together, too; and these two things were facts regardless of the context they were put in. Hen had had no notion of Buck cooking Chris and Eddie breakfast every morning, though it seemed like something she absolutely should have. This probably meant it had not been a simple lapse but rather a conscious effort to keep it from her. A secret.

Well, if that didn’t just make the thought of going to her next shift a hell of a lot more interesting…

Chris said nothing else regarding his dad or Buck for the rest of breakfast, no allusions to anything that would provide more insight, leaving Hen with only the throwaway pancake comment to chew on until it was time to bring him home.

Karen came with her to drop him off, since Eddie’s house was on the way to her work. They chatted the whole drive there, Chris fascinated with the profession of rocket science, and Karen happy to answer every one of his many questions. It left no room for Hen to ask him for clarification—which was most likely for the best.

By the time they pulled up to the Diaz house, Hen had come to the conclusion that she’d misinterpreted the remark. Two plus two equaled four, and Buck and Eddie were a mystery to anyone but themselves, and who was she to question their breakfast rituals? It would be just like Buck to drive to a house that wasn’t his own every morning to make breakfast for its inhabitants.

“We come bearing gifts,” Hen said, when the front door swung open.

Eddie’s face broke into a grin at the sight of his son. “Hey, bud! Did you have a good time?”

“Mhm. I kicked Denny’s ass at Battlefield.”

“Language!” all three adult voices said at once. Chris snickered.

“‘Raised in Texas,’ yeah, right,” Karen said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“That’s an LA mouth through and through,” Eddie agreed, frowning pointedly at Chris. “Me and your tías are gonna have a serious conversation about your manners.”

“I’m so scared,” Chris deadpanned.

“Alright, James Bond, go put your stuff away,” Eddie said, nodding inside. “Bacon’s on the stove.” Hen and Karen’s eyes found each other over the boy’s head.

Chris raised a brow. “Overcooked?”

“It’s getting better.”

“We have to tell him, dad,” Chris grumbled as he moved past Eddie in the doorway.

Eddie let out a skittish laugh. “Haha, tell who, what?” he gritted back, talking through his teeth.

“Nothing!” Chris’s voice droned, already lost down the hallway to his room.

Eddie turned back to them, creases of nervous tension smoothing from his face. “Thank you guys so much for taking care of him. I really appreciate it.”

“Uh— Yeah, no, of course,” Karen said. “Any day, Eddie.”

“Denny would say every day,” Hen added, trying to cover for her wife’s badly concealed suspicion. “But seriously, we love having him. The next time you need a night out, just drop him off with us.”

“So…” Karen said, drawing out the sound a little. “...How was your night out?”

Even as Hen was just getting to know Eddie, when he was still shuttered off from them behind walls of suave equanimity, she’d noticed how easily the man blushed. It took no more than an improper comment in his direction to make him go a bit pink with embarrassment. Now, at the suggestiveness of the question, she watched as a rosy flush spread from beneath the neckline of his T-shirt to the very tips of his ears.

He ducked his head a little. “It wasn’t much of a night out. I… mostly just watched TV.”

“Uh-huh,” Karen said. It took everything in Hen not to elbow her in the side. Instead, she checked the clock on her phone.

“Oh, babe, we gotta get going if you want to be on time.”

“Right,” Karen said. “We should get going.”

“Thanks again, guys,” Eddie said, waving.

Karen waved back as Hen steered her away from the door. “Yup! Buh-bye!”

Halfway between the house and the car, Karen leaned closer, lowering her voice to a murmur. “So, did you also spot the hickey on his neck, or…?”

Hen urged her forward. “Aaaaand we’re walking away.”

They said nothing more until the doors of the car shut between them and the Diaz house. And then they started talking. They talked about it in the car, and then they talked about it in the cafe, and then they talked about it on the drive to the lab, and after they parked in the lab’s lot, they talked about it more there.

By the time Karen actually clocked into work, she was forty-five minutes late.

1 month in

The music playing through the grocery store’s speakers was a little too loud to enjoy, and May’s body was a little too sore to ignore. Her shifts at the hospital kept her on her feet all day, most of them spent frantically following one of the doctors and jotting down more notes than she’d ever thought she could fill. At the end of her days, her hand and legs ached fiercely and relentlessly. And her soul felt satiated enough so that nothing else mattered.

She still wasn’t totally convinced that joining nursing school hadn’t been a crazy, stupid idea; but then again, who in her inner circle hadn’t built their life on crazy, stupid ideas? Her dad married a neurosurgeon and moved to Haiti. Her stepfather had sacrificed himself for the good of his team; a group so dedicated to recklessness that she was worried when she finally became a nurse, they alone would be her patients. Her mother was one of the most down-to-Earth people she knew—and for a few hours not so many months ago, she hadn’t been down on Earth at all. Space kind of made every risk May took seem elementary in comparison.

In other words, while her more well-adjusted half told her she was making a huge decision by upending her life for yet another career path, the half of her who’d grown up hosting first responder barbeques knew that the real heroes were the ones who took great leaps even when they couldn’t see where they’d land. That was the part of herself she chose to listen to.

That part didn’t make her feet hurt any less, though.

She rolled her stiff shoulders out as she meandered through the produce section, finally stopping to test the avocados. She prodded through about a dozen before she found one that satisfied her. Harry would undoubtedly make fun of her for the thorough, almost procedural way she evaluated them for ripeness, but she had no shame. At the end of the day, one of them made a killer avocado toast, and one just sat on his ass and watched.

“Auntie May!”

She whirled at the sound of the voice, high and young and excited to see her. She caught two seconds of a blue-brown streak zipping around the corner of the fruit stand before throwing its arms around her leg in greeting.

“Wha— Theo?” she exclaimed in disbelief.

Indeed, the boy untangled himself from the leg of her scrubs and peered up at her. Those were Buckley eyes, no doubt about it—eager, fascinated with the world around them, and glimmering with just a hint of misdemeanor.

“Hi, Auntie May,” he said.

“Hi, you,” she said back, though she was already looking around, waiting for the boy’s guardian to appear and take responsibility for him. Yet no one emerged from the aisle he’d come from. “Theo, where’s Buck?”

“At work,” he said matter-of-factly.

She balked. That’s right—the 118 was on shift right now; Ravi had told her this morning that he’d probably be hard to get in touch with. Buck would be there with him. But then how the hell did Theo get to the grocery store?

“Theo, hon, who did you come here with?” she asked, laying a hand on top of his head. Through lots of trial-and-error, she’d found this to be the most effective way to keep him from running off. It was like an invisible stop button buried in his curls.

“My best friend,” Theo replied.

Before she had a chance to ask what that meant, the kid launched into another train of thought.

“We’re getting food for Buck,” he explained. “Tomorrow is a big day and we’re gonna make it special.”

May furrowed her brow. “Who? Who’s going to make it special?”

“Me and Christopher and Eddie!”

“Eddie?” she repeated.

“Theo!”

The shout came from behind her, and she turned. It was the man in question himself. Eddie’s face was stricken, his hair tugged out of place like he’d been running his hands through it, and he didn’t seem to see her at all. At the sight of Theo, he broke into a run. Scooping him from the floor like he weighed next to nothing, Eddie wrapped the boy in a tight embrace. Theo’s little hands patted the back of Eddie’s head.

“You can’t do that to me, bud,” Eddie said when he pulled away, placing Theo back on his feet and kneeling at his level. “It scares me when you run away.”

Theo twisted sheepishly back and forth. “I’m sorry.”

“Agh, I’m not angry.” Eddie gave the kid’s hair a little stroke. “Just don’t do it again, okay? You stick with me from now on.”

“Okay.”

Eddie straightened, only then looking at May. She’d been watching the exchange quietly, not daring to butt in, and meanwhile wordlessly reconfiguring the role she’d thought Eddie played in the boy’s life. Clearly that role was a lot larger than she’d believed. She didn't talk to Theo like this when she babysat, but that was because she wasn't his parent. Eddie, on the other hand...

“May, hi,” he said, blinking. “What a coincidence.”

She shook her head, just as flabbergasted. “Yeah, I mean— I just got done at the hospital. You’re not on shift today?”

“No, uh; day off. Which means…”

“Which means you’re on Theo duty,” she finished. This, of course, didn’t quite explain the way he handled Theo as if he were Eddie’s own son, not the kid he was just babysitting. But she felt as though she was maybe starting to have a guess as to why.

“Usually my favorite thing, until this one gives me a heart attack. Man, I’m so lucky you were here to stop him.”

“Well, I wish I could take credit for that, but…” She looked at Theo. “He came running right to me like a man on a mission.”

Eddie shut his eyes like it physically pained him to picture it. “I swear to god, I turned around for one second, and he was gone. I was just trying to grab some paprika.”

“I won’t tell Buck you almost lost his kid, I promise.”

“Uhh..” He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly bashful despite his strong entrance. “Better if you didn’t tell him we were here at all? I’m kind of… Well, it’s complicated. At least don’t tell him until after tomorrow.”

Tomorrow; mentioned again. She just couldn’t help her curiosity at that.

“Theo mentioned something about tomorrow,” she said, cocking a brow. “Something about it being a ‘big day’?”

A nervous laugh tumbled out of him, haphazardly and unsuccessfully disguised as a cough. “Uh— No. No, it’s nothing. Just… another day. Like any other day. Totally regular.”

That delivery itself was enough to convince her of the complete opposite—and then Theo spoke up.

“No!” he shouted. “You said it was a special day! You said that— that me and Chris had to be good and help you plan! You said—” Eddie was trying and failing with a series of hand gestures to quiet the boy, who prattled on unhindered. May knew from her own time with Theo: once he got going, there was no stopping him; and so she just watched with a growing smile. “—You said it was a special day and we have to keep it a secret or else it’ll be ruined! You said tomorrow is special! Be good to Buck and don’t tell him about the plan! Help Chris with the plan too!”

“What’s the plan, Theo?” May asked, gleefully ignoring the frantic look Eddie sent her way.

Theo trailed off, mouth moving silently as if he were rehearsing something. Then his eyes snapped to hers; resolute with a decision. “I’m not supposed to tell,” he declared.

May frowned in disappointment as Eddie’s shoulders slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Theo tugged on Eddie’s interlinked fingers, then cupped a hand beside his mouth. “It’s a secret,” he whispered loudly.

“That’s right, bud,” Eddie said, voice ragged. “It’s a secret. Good job remembering.”

“Hm.” May crossed her arms. “Interesting.”

Eddie looked up at her, his face creased with concern and embarrassment and nerves. She felt for him. She didn’t have the full picture here—hell, she barely even had half—but if the answer was what she thought it could very well be, she knew it would only make it worse to ask. Though curiosity burned in her chest and she swore she could hear the gossiping voices of her ancestors urging her to poke her nose in further, she bit her tongue instead.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, sounding earnest. “I wish I could explain, I just…”

May put up her hands. “No need. I get it; it’s none of my business.”

His face softened. “Thank you.”

“I mean, I did just save your hide with the rescue of the century, but…” They both laughed, albeit Eddie’s a moment delayed until he realized she was kidding. Only then did the tense energy of the conversation finally dissipate. Eddie’s familiar open-faced demeanor returned, and May was happy to welcome it back. He asked her about her shift at the hospital, and she filled him in—sore feet and everything. He related with a lament about his strained hamstring from a call last week. They chatted about work, and Harry, and Ravi—Eddie wanted to know how that was going; subtly asking if Ravi was treating her well, and not-so-subtly insinuating that he could arrange an accident on the job if he wasn’t. She was happy to tell him that probably wouldn’t be necessary.

They both steered clear of the topic of Buck. May wasn’t sure that was something she should touch right now.

After a bit, Eddie checked his watch and cringed. “Shoot, I gotta go. Chris is at home and I told him this wouldn’t take long.” He looked up at her, brown eyes appreciative. “May— thank you so much. I’m really glad you were here for him.” He reached forward and pulled her into a brief, one-armed hug. She was pretty sure this was the first time they’d ever done that. 

She smiled into his shoulder and pulled away blushing. “Eddie, of course. I’m just happy to catch up with you both. Even if someone’s—” She looked pointedly at Theo, “—keeping a secret from me.”

“I can’t tell!” the boy exclaimed proudly.

“And I respect that,” she told him. “You take your job very seriously, Theo, it’s good. I know I can call you the next time I have a secret.”

He beamed up at her in response.

“Is it enough if I promise it will make sense someday?” Eddie asked, wincing a little.

“Well, I suppose if you promise.”

He smiled back at her, then gave Theo’s hand a little shake. “Say bye, Theo.”

“Bye, Auntie May,” the boy said, giving a wave.

“Bye, Theo,” she replied. “Don’t go running away from Eddie again, okay?”

“Okay!”

She and Eddie exchanged glances, both knowing he absolutely would and there was nothing they could do about it. Then they bid each other goodbye, and May watched Eddie lead the kid from the grocery store, hand clenched securely around Theo’s with every step.

The moment they disappeared, she pulled out her phone. She’d been so good at not prodding Eddie, she hadn’t tried to ask him anything; she’d pat herself on the back for that later—now, she needed to send a text. She went to the third pinned contact in her phone and started typing.

To Ravi: I think I just figured something out and you’re not allowed to call me crazy…

—

Buck’s shift went until 5 the next day, which was only ideal in that it gave Eddie the entire morning and afternoon to prepare. In all other aspects, it was a real pain in the ass—they could’ve instead spent that time together, celebrating; especially since it was a Sunday so both boys were off school. But there was no way around the scheduling. How was Buck supposed to request the time off? Hey, Chim, can you switch my shift around so I’m not working on the 11th? It’s my one-month anniversary with my secret boyfriend that I haven’t told you about. Yeah, you do know him; and he needs that day off too.

Instead, Buck got scheduled and Eddie didn’t, which meant they couldn’t even spend the day working together, and Eddie wasn’t quite crazy enough to request the shift unprompted. Or probably he was, but just didn’t feel like trying to explain it.

“Dad, this is so painful,” Chris said now, sitting at the porch table, wearing a mask of disapproval as he watched Eddie sweat at the grill. “Just let me help a little.”

“You are helping,” Eddie replied, pointing to the card Chris was working on writing. “You’re the best one of us with the… words, you know, so just do your thing. I got this. Doesn’t it look like I got this?”

Apparently it didn’t, because the look Chris gave him was more than a little disheartening. Eddie refused to be demoralized by his own kid, though, who would only really be impressed if Gordon Ramsay appeared in front of him and performed teppanyaki on the spot, so he waved him off and turned back to the chicken skewers on the grill. They were fine—they weren’t even burnt yet.

“Eddie! I finished!” Theo came running out the back door, arms flailing in his excitement.

“Great work, bud.”

“I finished! Come see!”

“Ohhhhkay, um—” Eddie glanced between the house and the grill, finally snapping his fingers at Christopher. “If these catch on fire, yell for me.”

“Okay, Dad.”

Theo dragged Eddie into the house by his pant leg, bouncing on the balls of his feet and vibrating like a caffeinated chihuahua. At least here, Eddie didn’t have to worry about him running off somewhere again—yesterday’s grocery store incident had nearly sent him to an early grave. May had come to the rescue, thank god; but then nearly killed him a second time by asking Theo one too many questions. There were moments when Eddie looked in the mirror and was shocked he wasn’t going gray yet.

Theo came to a halt and swept his arm out in demonstration of his achievement. Eddie followed his gaze.

Buck’s living room was decorated like the aftermath of a friendly atomic bomb. Colorful streamers were draped across the back of the couch and wedged into the drawers of the console table. Christmas lights hung from the lampshades. Pages of his firefighter coloring book had been ripped out, scribbled upon in crayon, and taped at about knee-level around the walls by the dozen. Balloons littered the floor; some droopy from underfilling, some blown up so much they looked mere seconds away from popping.

“Ta-da!” Theo exclaimed.

Eddie smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “It’s perfect, bud. He’s gonna love it.” And he meant that.

“Daaaad! Something’s smoking out here!”

Eddie jolted, jogging back towards the grill. “I’m coming!” He’d been juggling a dozen tasks all day, and here was the most important of them all—saving dinner.

By the time he salvaged the food on the grill (nothing was burnt beyond redemption), prepared the accompanying dishes, and set the table, it was nearly 5:20. Which meant any minute now…

Right on cue, Eddie heard a key turn in the lock. A thrill of anticipation zipped up his spine.

When Buck opened the door, there was a moment that he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the living room, mouth slightly parted as he took in Theo’s contribution. But it only took a total of three seconds for his surprise to give way to delight.

“Oh, what is this?”

“Surprise!” Theo cried, launching himself from behind the couch and catapulting into Buck’s open arms. Buck swept him up with a bit of a groan—it couldn’t have been easy after a 24-hour shift, and Theo wasn’t quite as light as he liked to treat himself, but Eddie had never seen Buck refuse to pick him up. Then again, he wasn’t so strict on that front himself.

“I told him this wasn’t a surprise, but he insisted,” Eddie muttered from the living room threshold.

“No, I was very surprised, Theo,” Buck said, rubbing the boy’s back. “Good work!”

“I did the whole room!”

“Yeah, I see that.” He gasped and pointed. “Is that from my coloring book?”

“Yeah!”

Eddie knew then that he didn’t have a chance of moving this night along until Theo had shown every nook and cranny of the living room he’d decorated, so he happily stepped back to let it happen. Theo proceeded to walk them through each drawing he’d made, every chunk of streamer he’d taped to the furniture, and every balloon he’d scattered along with each of their names (yes, he’d named them all). Buck followed patiently behind him the whole time, nodding shrewdly like a scholar taking notes. Eddie loved so feircely it nearly buckled his knees.

When Theo finished his demonstration, Buck’s cheeks were flushed pink from hiding smiles. He picked Theo up again and squeezed him tight, giving him that little spin at the end that always made the boy shriek with glee.

“I hope you’re hungry after all that heavy lifting,” Eddie said, once Buck finally put Theo down.

“Yeah, I could go for takeout,” Buck said wryly. Eddie snorted and stepped into the dining room.

The table was expertly laid with food. The skewers Eddie’d been marinating and grilling all day were perfect, steaming with a mouth-watering aroma and soaking in a bed of lemon yogurt sauce. Freshly chopped cucumbers and bowls of golden rice pilaf sat by as complimentary dishes, and baskets of hot pitas sat on either side of the table. Everything smelled, looked, and surely tasted delicious. But it wasn’t the food itself that made Buck’s eyes go wide in a dazed wonder.

“Is this—?” he began.

“Just like Nadia’s,” Eddie affirmed softly. “I actually had to track them down to ask for the recipe. It was not easy.”

Buck looked up at him, stars in his eyes. Eddie knew they were remembering the same thing. Exactly one month ago, they’d both stood outside their favorite Mediterranean food truck, stealing bites of each other’s dinners and wondering quietly who was going to break the equilibrium first. Since Eddie’d come out to the team just a few days prior, it had merely been a waiting game—the two of them orbiting closer and closer around each other; locked in a stasis of anticipation. Unable or unwilling to yet take the next step.

When Eddie had gone in to steal another bite of Buck’s food, Buck stopped his fork and said, “Here, try it with this,” smearing some sort of yellow sauce on Eddie’s bite before letting it go. He’d watched in eager expectancy as Eddie lifted it to his mouth.

Afterwards, Eddie couldn’t have told you what it tasted like, good or bad—only that Buck had smiled as if he’d taken the bite; and when he started talking about the compatibility of the flavor profile, the evening glow was painting him a deep blue like the color of his eyes and it was too distracting to hear him; and the entire world looked more beautiful and more promising than Eddie’d ever thought it could be. On the next bite, as Buck had leaned over to steal from Eddie’s plate, Eddie intercepted his mouth with a kiss.

He’d tasted like Buck, and like cardamom, and like forever.

“We didn’t get to finish, as I recall, so…” Eddie said now, gesturing to the spread of food on the table. “I made it.”

“Eddie…”

“Happy one month, Buck.”

Buck crossed the room in four gentle steps and reached to touch him—on his cheek, on his shoulders, on his sternum—light, fluttering touches like he couldn’t decide where to put all of his gratitude. Finally, his hands rested tenderly on Eddie’s sides. And then he kissed him.

Warmth flooded through him at the brush of their lips. Buck’s mouth brought to life something within Eddie he’d never felt before, something awakening that he’d never known had slumbered in the first place. This kiss, like most of theirs, held the potential for something more—but their kids were sitting at the table, waiting to eat. They opted instead for something very PG, short and sweet, Eddie’s fingers curling against Buck’s nape while he smiled against his lips.

“You guys are so gross,” Chris said.

Buck broke away with a laugh, turning to where Chris sat. “Oh, and that reminds me…!” He swooped forward, and Chris had barely enough time to groan before Buck was on him, wrapping him in his arms, pressing a smacking kiss to the top of his head. “Mmmmwah!”

“Buuuuck…” But Chris was fighting a smile.

“Now that was right.” Buck sighed in a self-satisfied manner. “See, I just misfired and landed on your dad at first.”

“You should get that checked out.”

“I really should. Is that for me?”

Buck had spotted the card Chris was writing earlier—he’d been bent over the thing all evening while Eddie cooked and Theo decorated. To Buck, from Chris, the front read, but whatever the real message was was folded inside.

“Yeah,” Chris said, sliding the card Buck’s way. “But you’re not allowed to read it until later.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re gonna get all teary and emotional and want to hug me.”

Buck laughed. “Oh, is that right? You seem awfully confident in your writing abilities, Christopher.”

“No, I’ve just met you before.”

“I did a drawing too!” Theo piped up, pointing at the card.

Buck gasped. “Really? That’s perfect, Theo. I can’t wait to see it.” He turned to Eddie then, brows raised expectantly. “Well? You write me something, too?”

Eddie scoffed. “Are you kidding? Chris hasn’t let me read that thing, either. Don’t know why, ‘cause I would not get all choked up like you.”

“Yes you would,” Buck and Chris said in unison.

“Okay,” Eddie huffed, affronted. “While we stand here telling lies, the dinner I slaved all day over is getting cold. I should have known I’d be upstaged by a sheet of paper.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Dad,” Chris said. “It’s what’s on the paper that’s gonna upstage you.”

As they arranged themselves to eat, Eddie leaned over to whisper in Buck’s ear. “That sass is all you, Buckley.”

“Liar,” Buck murmured back. And it was true. The parts Eddie loved the most about his son were the parts that came from them both.

—

Long after the dinner was cleared; after the table was wiped down and the dishes dried and put away; long after the boys were put to bed, Buck and Eddie lay awake, side-by-side in bed. The ceiling fan hummed above their heads in the otherwise still air, and Buck’s head was on Eddie’s chest, and they were both naked beneath the tangled sheets and sticky with sweat but so spent that for the time being, it didn’t matter. Buck could feel Eddie’s heartbeat through the warm skin of his sternum.

Time was indeterminate in the dark, but it felt as if they’d been lying like this for days. Quiet and still and peaceful. Quiet, because the boys were asleep—Chris in the bed and Theo on the air mattress; though any day now Buck had a feeling they’d get a setup that was more permanent. He’d been meaning to ask Chris and Eddie to move in for a while, and had only been forgetting because it felt so much like they lived here already.

Eddie was running his fingers through Buck’s hair; had been since they’d melted together; and didn’t seem to ever want to stop. He’d developed a sort of fixation on that one curl that always fell forward against Buck’s forehead. He would curl the lock around his finger and then let it go, letting it spring back into place. He’d been at it all night. He was doing it now: curl, spring. Curl, spring. Curl, spring.

Buck’s mind was quiet, as at-rest as his body, but he did think one thing: he could stay tucked here, against this steady heartbeat, for the rest of his life.

“I think we should tell everyone,” he whispered at last.

Eddie’s voice floated up in a soft, low tremor through his sternum to Buck’s ear. “Really?”

Buck’s fingers traced a featherlight touch along the skin of Eddie’s stomach. He loved this part of Eddie’s body—the soft tan skin, the firmness of the muscle tucked beneath it, the coarse dusting of hair above his waistband. It was just as beautiful as every other inch of him. Now, he watched as goosebumps rose there under the brush of his fingertips.

“I don’t want it to surprise everyone when I propose to you someday.”

Eddie was quiet for a long moment. His heartbeat didn’t pick up at all, only kept on thrumming.

“Not if I propose first,” he finally murmured.

So much for just moving in, a tiny part of Buck’s brain whispered—but the rest was too busy just being happy.

“Did you read Chris’s card yet?” he whispered.

Eddie hummed in denial. Using Herculean effort as though their bodies were two magnets he was pulling apart, Buck reached away from him to grab the card from the nightstand. He handed it over.

He didn’t need to read the card over Eddie’s shoulder in order to follow along. He’d already read the thing the moment they put Chris to bed, holding out just as long as he’d promised. And then he’d read it a second time as Eddie was brushing his teeth. And again after that. By now, he knew the words by heart.

Dear Buck,

I’m really happy you’re with my dad. I think you might not know this, because you’re probably used to it by now, but he’s always happiest when he’s talking about you. I didn’t use to know what that meant, but it was enough to just have something that made our days better when things got hard. You’ve always been that for us.

I didn't want you guys to date at first, because I didn’t want to be in danger of losing that. When Dad told me, I got upset at him. I don’t know if he’s told you that. I think he probably did, though, because that’s the night you showed up with freshly-baked muffins and sat me down to tell me that if I wasn’t comfortable, you and my dad would stop seeing each other. I didn’t really know how to say everything I was actually thinking.

What I should have told you was that you’ve been an important part of my life for almost as long as I can remember, and I want you to be in my life for the rest of it, too. For a kid who maybe hasn’t known a whole lot of stability, you’ve been a constant source of love and support since the moment we met. So much of that comes from what you mean to my dad.

Any kid would be lucky to have you as a friend. I was lucky enough to get you as a parent—long before just a month ago.

I love you,

Christopher

(P.S: please don’t post this on your insta story with a million emojis)

For a long moment after Eddie finished reading, the room was quiet. Buck heard the soft shhff of paper as Eddie closed the card and lay it against his chest, then only the humming of the ceiling fan and that anchoring heartbeat beneath his ear.

Finally, Eddie spoke. His voice was barely audible. “You shouldn’t have shown me this.”

Buck shifted. “Why not?”

“Because it’s 2 am on a school night, and now I need to go wake my kid up to tell him how amazing he is and cry into his pajama shirt.”

Eddie was already moving, rolling towards the edge of the bed, but Buck was quick to pull him back. They wrestled half-heartedly; Eddie straining while Buck tugged on his torso; but the effort was hardly real on his opponent’s part and Buck prevailed after a minute or so. Eddie slumped back, going limp in his arms.

When Buck caught a glimpse of his face in the sliver of moonlight through the curtains, he saw tears glimmering in his eyes.

He only pulled Eddie closer, pressing his lips to the warm skin of his torso. “He knows,” he whispered into his skin.

Eddie nodded, seemingly unable to speak. He carded a hand through Buck’s hair and sniffled softly. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, Buck recalled the mantra he’d begun one month ago, the very first time he’d touched Eddie like a lover instead of a friend. The words had circled his head like a prayer since then; only more certain than a prayer ever could be.

This is forever.

1 month and 1 day in

The firehouse buzzed in anticipation even before they made the announcement, almost as if the world was holding its breath for them. This, of course, was the nerves talking. A firehouse was an eternally active place; so in reality, the buzz meant nothing more than the flurry of a typical shift. But it still felt consequential to Eddie as they stepped into the station.

They’d decided not to force the confession; rather, to wait for a convenient time and issue the admission then—but this almost instantly proved to be harder than they’d expected. After changing, they headed up to the loft together, expecting to find the team assembled as usual for breakfast. Instead, only Hen sat nursing her coffee over the morning paper. There was no one else in sight.

“Mornin’, Hen,” Eddie said.

“Morning, guys,” she replied, glancing up only briefly from the crossword she was gnawing on.

Buck looked around. “Hen, uh— where’s everyone else?”

“Oh, um… Chim’s finishing paperwork from that vending machine call, Ravi’s in the gym, and Harry’s cleaning the bathrooms.”

Eddie quirked his brows. “He’s not a probie anymore.”

“Yeah, and that’s getting to his head real fast.”

“He pissed Chim off yesterday,” Buck explained. “Went off on his own during a call. Defied orders—you know the drill.”

“Sounds pretty familiar,” Eddie said, and Buck smiled coyly.

“It was kinda badass, actually.”

Hen pointed at him with the tip of her ballpoint pen. “You are a terrible influence.”

“That’s what I’ve always said,” Eddie agreed.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, swiveling the pen in his direction. “You’re an instigator.”

“What?”

“Harry saved that woman, didn’t he?” Buck said, bringing the conversation back to its point.

Hen raised a brow. “Why do you think he’s only getting bathroom duty?”

By the time the station alarm went off for their first call of the morning, only Ravi had joined them in the loft. Buck and Eddie cut each other a displeased look as the alarm began to blare, but Buck only shrugged at him with an optimistic little smile. Eddie read the expression easily—there will be more chances.

But then there wasn’t, and there wasn’t, and there wasn’t. After that call was dozens more—small ones, stupid ones, ones that made them all silently question whether some sadist had whispered the q-word that morning—that kept them abnormally busy. A minor freeway collision resulting in three sprained ankles and a scraped knee. A kid stuck in a treehouse only agreeing to come down on “the big ladder.” A street vendor’s cart going up in flames, leaving a line of disgruntled customers with the ends of their hair singed off.

“What the hell’s up with today?” Eddie muttered to Buck, frantically packing the truck at the end of one call only to immediately transition into another.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Buck said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on, you don’t believe in that stuff.” Only Eddie had forgotten that where Buck doubted in God, he had faith in the ever-nebulous Universe. He’d once told Eddie, the Universe works in mysterious ways, Eds, but it does work, with a wiggle of his eyebrows that suggested he was half-kidding—only Eddie saw now how with each call he grew paler and grayer, and suspected he really did take that stuff seriously.

This isn’t a sign, Buck; it’s just an inconvenience, Eddie longed to tell him. But, much like everything else that shift, he just couldn’t get the chance.

At least when the office fire call came in, the stakes finally felt real. An actual emergency after a sea of irritations. That was little comfort, though, when they arrived on scene and took in the bonfire where a building used to be.

“Hen, Eddie, check on the survivors out here,” Chim commanded, pointing to the parking lot of coughing office workers. “Buck, Ravi, Harry, I want you guys inside clearing the rest of them out. No casualties today, got it?”

“Yes, Cap,” they chorused.

And they did just that; and it all went smoothly at first. Eddie helped Hen check over the survivors—they’d gotten into a real rhythm with each other as partners; where they used to clash they now worked together smoothly, assisting each other without a word as if they shared one mind. Chim helped them out here, too, and he was better too at not casting them a jealous look every time he saw them. Eddie got it—he missed working with his old partner just the same. He’d dealt with missing him by starting to date him, though, which wasn’t quite an option for Chim and Hen.

As they worked outside of the fire, Buck and the others ferried more survivors out to them through the burning entrance. Eddie was a good paramedic, he was attuned to his patients, but on a call like this one he could never help the feeling that he had to keep a constant tab on Buck. At this point, after nearly nine years, it was more like second nature—the persistent awareness just at the back of his mind. He was consciously stemming wounds while he unconsciously tracked the other man. Buck just came out with a survivor, so he was across the parking lot with her. Buck just plunged back in after another, so now he was passing through the heart of the flame. Now he was trudging up the stairs. Now he was busting open a stuck door. Now he was grabbing someone’s hand.

Now, the left side of the building was collapsing.

An echoing wail went up from the crowd gathered in the parking lot as the building at first shuddered, then folded in on itself with a billowing cloud of black smoke. Eddie’s head whipped around just in time to watch one half of the office crumble like a house of cards.

Hen looked at him, and her face mirrored the fear he knew was on his own. But now was the worst time to do something irrational—to go plunging in after their teammates, to panic. They could only pause what they were doing and stare at the building front like they could manifest the appearance of their friends. If they were on the right side of the building, they’d be fine—they’d have felt the collapse and would now be making their way to the exit, safe and sound. If they were on the left side of the building…

That wasn’t something anyone dared think of until there was no other choice.

Sure enough, though, sixty seconds later a black-and-yellow uniform appeared through the smokey doorway, and Harry burst out into the parking lot. Hen breathed a sigh of relief and Chim ran over to receive him.

Eddie kept his eyes trained on the entrance.

“It’s Hell in there, Cap,” Harry coughed, pulling off his mask. “But I think we got the last of the survivors.”

As if on cue, another firefighter burst out of the doorway, a staggering young woman in his arms. Eddie had only one moment of wondering before Ravi was tearing off his mask, too, and handing the young woman to Chim.

“This is the last one, Cap,” he said.

“Ravi, where’s Buck?” Chim asked.

Ravi twisted, paling. “He was right behind me!”

Eddie’s stomach plummeted. He felt the entire team’s eyes turn to him at once, but he couldn’t meet any of them. He wouldn’t. He could only stare at the building, willing it not to collapse any further, praying to God or the Universe or whatever the hell was listening not to take from him another person he loved.

“Where the hell is he?” Chim muttered.

“Come on, Buck,” Hen murmured.

“Come on, Buck!” Harry shouted.

Eddie’s heart was in his throat. Please, was the only thing he thought.

When finally a third figure came stumbling out of the doorway, Eddie felt as though the entire world breathed a sigh of relief at once.

“There he is,” Chim might have been saying, but Eddie didn’t catch the whole thing because he was already running. Buck barely had time to look up before Eddie reached him.

It was more of a collision than a hug, Eddie’s body barreling into him with an oof from Buck, Eddie’s arms closing around him like a vise.

“Hi, Eddie.” Buck’s voice was muffled inside the mask.

Eddie pulled away, already glaring at him. “You dumbass.”

Buck pulled the mask from his head with a single tug, and his sweat-soaked curls bounced free onto a face that was flushed with exertion and caked in soot. He was so beautiful, and so undeniably alive.

“Sorry,” he puffed, grinning despite it all. “Beam came down in front of me. Had to take a quick det—”

The rest was muffled as Eddie pressed his lips against him.

Buck’s body shifted with the force of it—like the hug, it was insistent more than it was affectionate; Eddie so desperate just to touch him again, to punish Buck for scaring him, to remind him why he shouldn’t put himself at risk—but after a second he melted into it. His hand snaked up the back of Eddie’s neck and held him there like he was just as glad to see him, too.

“Eddie,” Buck said, voice breathy, when they finally broke apart.

“I’m still angry at you,” Eddie replied.

“Eddie,” Buck repeated abashedly. Even through the soot and ash coating his face, the tips of his ears were pink. “...Everyone’s watching.”

But when they turned around, nobody was looking at them at all. Chim was on the radio with the chief, eyes on the finally dying fire behind them as if they weren’t even there. Ravi was all the way across the lot with a group of rattled survivors. Harry was the only one who seemed to have perceived their kiss at all, but his efforts to boggle at them were blocked by Hen, who kept forcing his chin straight so she could shine her penlight in his eyes.

Eddie blinked. “Huh.”

“...Do you think they didn’t notice?” Buck whispered.

“Buckley!” Chim shouted, and they both jumped. “Get your ass over here for an inspection. I’m not having you pass out later from smoke inhalation ‘cause you were too busy giving goo-goo eyes at my second-best paramedic.”

“Um,” Buck said.

“Hey!” Eddie protested. Second best?

Buck disentangled himself from Eddie’s arms and walked over to the ambulance with stiff strides. Eddie followed, dreading the smug quips that were sure to come from Hen. But despite his fears, she only took Buck by the hand and gently sat him down, running the penlight over his eyes like he was any other patient. She hardly even blinked when Eddie sat down beside him on the ambulance rim.

“How’s the vision?” she asked, voice clean and professional.

“Uh, normal,” Buck replied.

“Any head or body pain?”

“N— No, no.”

She flicked off the penlight and pressed a stethoscope to his chest. “Deep breath.” He dutifully obeyed, brows drawn in slight confusion.

“How’s it looking?” Eddie asked anxiously. She finally looked at him then, a slight trace of sly amusement in her eyes.

“Everything seems to be in order; don’t worry,” she replied. “Breathing and pupil response normal; responsive and tracking. His heartrate’s a little elevated, but I’d put that down to you more than anything, Eddie.” At that, she gave a knowing eyebrow raise. He felt his face warm.

“You’re thick-headed as normal, Buck, but you’re fine,” she finished. With that, she turned to Chim. “Cap, I’m going to help Ravi with the others!” And she jogged away.

For a moment, they just stared after her. Then Eddie smacked him on the arm. “Did you tell them?” he hissed.

“No!” Buck replied. “Did you?”

“...I don’t think so?”

“Nobody told me anything!” Harry’s voice piped from beside them. He was the only one still in the ambulance, sitting behind Buck, his face twisted in bafflement. His pointed finger waggled between the two of them. “How long has this been going on? Wait, wait a second—” He blinked as if struck by a revelation. “Was I supposed to know about this all along? Has this always been a thing, like, since I was twelve?”

“Uhh—”

“I’m gonna kill my sister,” Harry murmured. Eddie and Buck’s eyes met in wide, silent understanding. Maybe this one was better left unengaged.

When Harry stalked off, presumably to call May about the lifelong lie he’d apparently been fed, they were finally alone. Now would’ve been the time for Eddie to kiss him, out of the watchful eyes of their teammates—only he hadn’t cared at all about modesty when Buck had emerged from that smoke. Only the fact that he’d emerged at all.

And now, he found, he still didn’t care that he’d done it. It wasn’t exactly the way they’d planned on telling everyone—it was supposed to be a bit more diplomatic than a show of impulsive PDA. Then again, the others’ reactions weren’t exactly the ones they’d planned on getting afterwards, so who were really the fools here?

“We must be pretty bad at keeping a secret,” Eddie finally mused.

Buck snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right. We must be.”

“Uh, I couldn’t possibly be sensing a tone right now.”

“I don’t know, Eddie; only one of us couldn’t keep his hands off me during shifts.”

“Couldn’t keep—? Okay, Romeo; for the record, I could so keep my hands off you if I wanted—”

“Is that a challenge?”

“—And only one of us kept pulling me into the supply closet ‘cause he couldn’t go one whole shift without kissing.”

“Right, like when you did that to me last week?”

“Whatever,” Eddie said, which effectively meant he’d lost the argument. Buck knew it, too; because his face lit up with smug satisfaction.

“You wouldn’t last a day without touching me on shift,” Buck said.

“Try me,” Eddie fired back, knowing he was absolutely right.

When their bickering died down, they turned outward to watch their friends work across the lot. They seemed only specks in the distance compared to Buck’s solidity. His side pressed into Eddie’s, warm and safe even through their turnouts; and in that moment, they could have been right back on Eddie’s ratty old sofa together. Not that location really mattered—Eddie loved him no matter what corner of Hell they were in.

“I guess we’re just gonna have to work harder to surprise them,” Eddie finally said, nodding to the others.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Buck paused, then looked at him with a sly smile. “So, about that proposal…”

Eddie smiled, laced their fingers together, and saved that part for later.