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The station was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like a blanket someone had forgotten to shake out. Buck was sprawled across the sofa in the loft, one arm dangling off the edge, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. He’d been like that for the better part of an hour, ever since they’d gotten back from the roof call. No one had said a word about it. They didn’t need to.
Hen settled into the armchair across from him, cradling a steaming mug of coffee like it was a lifeline. She took a sip, then glanced over at him.
“Hey, Buck. Have they landed yet?” Buck blinked slowly, as if the question had to travel a long distance to reach his brain. He pushed himself upright with a groan, rubbing both hands over his face until his skin was pink.
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Least they landed,” Bobby said from the kitchen, not looking up from the salad he was chopping. His voice was calm, deliberate, the kind of calm that meant he was paying more attention than he let on.
Buck just nodded. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He’d been up since—well, he couldn’t remember when. Last night? The night before? Eddie had been texting him from the airport in El Paso, sending photos of Chris asleep against his shoulder, complaining about the endless delays. And Buck, like the lovesick idiotic boyfriend he was, had stayed up to reply to every single one till about 4 or 5 in the morning.
Can’t wait to see you. Chris is gonna tell you about the donkey at the petting zoo. Miss you. Miss you. Miss you.
The bell rang.
Buck was off the sofa before anyone could blink, the exhaustion evaporating into pure adrenaline. His boots hit the floor hard, and he was already halfway down the stairs by the time the others had set down their coffee.
The call was simple. A kid, maybe nine years old, stuck on the roof of his own house. The ladder had fallen over, and he was too scared to climb down. Standard stuff. Except the kid wasn’t scared of the height—he was scared of going back inside.
Buck sat with him for almost forty minutes, perched on the shingles like they were old friends having a chat on a park bench. The kid’s name was Marcus, and no one had shown up to his birthday party. Not one person. Buck’s heart cracked right down the middle.
“You know,” Buck said, his voice rough with exhaustion but soft as anything, “when I was your age, I threw a party once. Invited the whole class. No one came either.”
Marcus looked at him with wide, wet eyes.
“Really?”
“Really. My sister made me a cake anyway, and we ate the whole thing just the two of us. It was actually kind of awesome.” Buck smiled, and it was genuine. “Sometimes the people who show up are the ones who matter most. Even if it’s just one person.”
Marcus sniffled. Then he took Buck’s hand, and they climbed down together.
Back at the station, Buck helped restock the truck on autopilot, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was wading through honey. When he finally trudged upstairs, he was ready to collapse back onto the sofa and not move until his next birthday.
“Buck!”
The voice cut through the fog like a beam of sunlight. Buck’s head snapped up, and there he was—Christopher, barreling toward him with his crutches swinging, his face split in a grin so wide it looked like it might break his cheeks. Buck jogged over, scooped him up, and held him tight.
“Hey, buddy,” Buck murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He buried his face in Chris’s hair and breathed in. Home.Chris was home. Which meant—
“The plane was so boring,” Chris announced, pulling back to make his displeasure known.
“And the guy next to us snored. Really loud.”
Buck laughed, a tired, scratchy sound that made Eddie’s heart clench from where he was still standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching.
“I believe you,” Buck said. Then he straightened, and his eyes finally found Eddie.
Eddie was smiling. Soft. Tender. The kind of smile he reserved for Christopher and for Buck and for no one else in the entire world.
“Hi, bubs,” Eddie said, his voice low and rough from travel.
Buck didn’t answer. He just walked over, sat down heavily on the sofa, and leaned into Eddie’s side like he’s done millions of times before, just how his body had been programmed too.
And just like the millions of times before Eddie had wrapped an arm around him immediately, pulling him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Missed you too,” he murmured as buck leaned up and kissed his jawline.
Hen and Chimney appeared at the top of the stairs, and the loft filled with warm greetings.
“Hey, Eddie! Hey, Chris! How was El Paso?” Hen asked, settling into the chair she’d vacated hours ago.
“Long,” Eddie said, his hand coming up to rest on Buck’s head, fingers threading absently through his hair. “Three delays, a missed connection, and a rental car that smelled like someone’s abuela’s trunk. But we made it.”
Chris was already launching into a detailed account of the donkey at the petting zoo, complete with sound effects. Buck’s eyes were closed, his breathing evening out. Eddie felt the exact moment his body went slack.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just documenting the reunion.” Ravi laughed, as he took a photo of buck and Eddie cuddled on the sofa.
“That’s my job rav.” Chim said pulling out his phone, also taking a picture
“You’re both weird.” Buck mumbled
“Please do,” Eddie said, taking a sip of the coffee. “I want evidence that he actually missed me.”
“I didn’t miss you,” Buck mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder, his voice barely audible. “I was fine.”
“You texted me seventeen times last night,” Eddie said, amused.
“That’s normal.”
“The last one was just the word ‘when’ with seventeen question marks.”
Buck went silent. Eddie grinned.
“You know, most people just say hello to their boyfriend. They don’t immediately use him as a mattress.” Bobby said as he came over, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Good to have you back, Eddie. Chris, you hungry? I made pasta.”
Chris’s face lit up. “Yes!” He was already heading toward the kitchen, but he stopped and turned back. “Buck, are you coming?”
Buck shook his head, not moving from Eddie’s side. “In a minute.”
Bobby and Eddie exchanged a look. The kind of look that said volumes without a single word.
“Go sleep, Buck,” Bobby said from the kitchen, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re off shift for the rest of the day,”
Buck’s eyes flew open. He sat up—or tried to. “No. I can’t. I have to—work.” The words came out slurred, tangled. He shook his head, but it only made him dizzier.
Bobby looked at Eddie, one eyebrow raised. Your turn.
Eddie didn’t hesitate. He hooked an arm around Buck’s waist and pulled him back down, guiding his head to rest against his chest. Buck’s resistance lasted about half a second.
“You’re not working,” Eddie said, his hand coming up to cup the back of Buck’s neck, thumb stroking slow circles against the skin there. “You’re exhausted. You’ve been exhausted for days. I can feel it.”
Buck’s resistance crumbled like a sandcastle in the tide. He sagged against Eddie, his breath hitching once, and then his eyes slid closed. Within seconds, his breathing evened out, deep and slow.
Eddie looked down at him, something soft and fierce in his expression. “He’s been like this all week?”
“Sort of,” Hen said, settling into the armchair across from them. “He was fine the first couple days. Then he got tireder and tireder. We figured he wasn’t sleeping.”
“He wasn’t,” Eddie confirmed. “He was texting me all night. Every night. Said he couldn’t sleep without me.”
“That’s disgustingly cute,” Chim said, mouth full of the pasta Bobby had handed him.
“I know,” Eddie said, and he didn’t sound sorry at all.
Buck shifted in his sleep, his hand fisting in the fabric of Eddie’s shirt, and he burrowed closer, his nose pressing into the curve of Eddie’s neck. Eddie adjusted his arm, pulling Buck more securely against him, and pressed another kiss to his hair.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
The station settled back into its quiet rhythm. Chris came back with a plate of pasta, sat on the floor next to the couch, and started telling Hen about the world’s longest airport delay.
Bobby went back to his pot. Ravi finished polishing the nozzle and started on the next one.
And Buck slept.
He slept through Chim’s bad jokes. He slept through Hen’s laughter. He slept through Chris asking if Buck was going to wake up before dinner.
Eddie smiled, his thumb tracing a lazy circle on Buck’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, so light it was barely there. “Missed you too, bubs.”
Chris had finished his donkey story and was now leaning against Eddie’s knee, watching Buck sleep with the kind of fondness only a kid could have for his honorary other dad. “Is Buck okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, buddy,” Eddie said, his voice soft. “He’s perfect.”
The station hummed around them—the low murmur of the TV, the clink of Bobby’s knife against the cutting board, Hen and Chimney trading quiet jokes. And Buck slept, safe and warm, right where he belonged.
And then, about an hour later, the bell rang.
Loud. Sharp. Insistent.
Everyone snapped to attention. Bobby was already moving, Chim and Hen right behind him, boots thundering across the bay. Ravi grabbed his gear, helmet tucked under his arm.
Buck stirred. His eyes blinked open, heavy and unfocused, confusion and exhaustion warring on his face. He felt the vibration of the alarm in his bones, the muscle memory of it pulling at him.
"What—call?" he mumbled, trying to sit up, his limbs heavy and uncooperative.
Eddie's arm tightened around him, gentle but firm. "Stay."
"I can't," Buck said, but his voice was slurry, his words running together like honey. "I'm on shift. I have to—"
"Buck." Bobby's voice cut through the chaos. He was already halfway to the truck, but he paused, turning back to look at the two of them on the couch. His expression softened, just a fraction.
"You're staying. That's an order."
Buck's jaw set. Stubborn. Always stubborn.
"Bobby, I can do it. I just need a minute."
"You need more than a minute," Bobby said, and his voice was firm but kind, the way it always was when he was taking care of one of his kids.
"You need rest. Eddie just got back. Stay with him. Stay with Chris. That's where you're needed right now."
Buck opened his mouth to argue—because of course he did, because he was Buck and he never knew when to stop pushing—but Eddie's hand came up to his cheek, turning his face gently, redirecting all of his attention.
"Hey," Eddie said softly. "Look at me."
Buck looked. His eyes were glassy, dark circles underneath, his lashes still clumped from sleep. But he looked at Eddie like he was the only thing in the world, like the sirens and the chaos and the call didn't exist.
"You've been holding it together for five days," Eddie said, his thumb brushing across Buck's cheekbone. "You don't have to anymore. I'm here. Let me take care of you."
Buck's lip wobbled, just slightly. A tiny crack in the armor. He nodded. Just once. Small. Vulnerable.
Eddie smiled, soft and warm, the kind of smile that was just for Buck. He pulled him back down against his chest, guiding his head to the crook of his neck. "Good. Now sleep."
Buck didn't fight it. He curled into Eddie's side, his legs tucking up, his head finding its familiar spot. His hand found Eddie's, fingers lacing together, and he let out a long, shaky breath that sounded like relief.
"Missed you," he whispered, barely audible, his lips brushing Eddie's collarbone.
Eddie's heart cracked open and mended itself all at once. "Missed you too, bubs. So much."
The station had gone quiet after the 118 roared out of the bay, sirens fading into the late afternoon. The sudden silence felt heavy, like a held breath finally released.
Chris had moved to the other end of the couch, his plate of pasta balanced on his knee, and he was watching his dad and Buck with a soft, knowing smile that made him look way older than twelve.
"He's really tired, huh?" Chris asked.
"Yeah," Eddie said, looking down at Buck's sleeping face, at the way the furrow between his brows had finally smoothed out. "He is."
"He waited up for us last night," Chris said, his voice quiet, like he was sharing a secret. "I saw his texts. He sent one at 3am that just said 'please tell me you landed.'"
Eddie's throat tightened. He could picture it. Buck alone in his loft, phone in hand, refreshing the flight tracker, willing the plane to go faster. "I know, buddy. I know."
Buck shifted, mumbling something unintelligible against Eddie's neck, and his hand tightened around Eddie's. A reflex. A need. Eddie held on.
They stayed like that for the next hour. Buck slept, curled into Eddie like a cat finding the warmest spot in the house, his breath evening out into soft, steady puffs. Eddie didn't move.
Didn't even think about moving. He just held him, one hand in Buck's hair, the other wrapped around his waist, grounding them both.
Chris finished his pasta, set the plate aside, and pulled out his phone. He took a picture. Eddie saw the flash but didn't say anything. Let him. Let the whole world know.
Buck moved slightly, taking a while to get orientated with his surroundings, smiling when he realised he was in eddies arms.
“Where is everyone?”
“They went on the call remember bubs.” Eddies voice was calm still, as he looked down at buck who immediately, got stressed getting up. Eddie pulled him back down.
“Buck, Bobby told you you’re done for the day you remember?” Buck nodded slowly, almost as if he didn’t want to accept it.
“No but I’m on meant to be on shift.” Buck started rambling, trying to get eddies arm off of him, so he can go be with his team but Eddie didn’t let go. He gave buck a minute before talking.
“Buck, stop.”
“You’re too tired to work, just stay with me and Chris they will be back soon anyways.” That didn’t do it unfortunately.
Eddie had to keep talking keep repeating himself until finally buck stopped and settled back down, but this time he didn't go straight to sleep. He lay there, his head on Eddie's chest, his fingers playing idly with the hem of Eddie's shirt. Eddie kept running his hand through Buck's hair, slow and steady, and Buck's eyes kept fluttering closed and open again, like he was trying to hold onto this moment.
"You smell good," Buck said, his voice drowsy.
Eddie snorted. "I smell like airplane peanuts and bad coffee."
"No," Buck said, shaking his head against Eddie's chest. "You smell like home."
Eddie smiled into Buck’s hair. Of course Buck would say something like that when he was half asleep.
“Yeah?” He murmured a smile on his face
“Yeah.” Buck whispered still playing with eddies rings, not really paying attention to anything his hands were doing.
“Good.” Eddie lifted bucks hand kissing it, making buck smile.
Chris, who had been pretending to sleep, cracked one eye open. "Dad, you're being mushy."
"Go back to sleep, Christopher."
"I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes."
"Same thing."
"Not even close."
Buck laughed, a soft, sleepy sound that vibrated against Eddie's ribs. "He's got you there."
Eddie groaned. "I'm surrounded."
"By people who love you," Buck said, his voice warm.
Eddie looked down at him, at the way Buck's eyes were shining even through the exhaustion, at the small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," Eddie said, his voice thick. "I know."
They stayed like that until the engine pulled back into the bay, the rumble of the truck shaking the walls. Buck's eyes snapped open, alertness flickering through the haze.
"They're back," he said.
"Yeah."
Buck sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and there was a crease from the couch cushion on his cheek. He looked rumpled and soft and utterly adorable, and Eddie wanted to tell him that, but he knew Buck would get embarrassed, so he just smiled.
The team filed in, looking tired and sooty but in good spirits. Hen spotted them first and broke into a grin.
"Well, look who's awake," she said, her voice warm. "Sleepy Buck rises."
Buck groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Don't call me that."
"Too late," Chim said, pulling out his phone. "I have photographic evidence."
"You took a picture of me sleeping?"
"Of you and Eddie being adorable. It's for the archives."
Buck peeked through his fingers, his cheeks pink. "What archives?"
"The ones I'm going to show at your wedding," Chim said cheerfully.
The room went very quiet.
Eddie felt his face heat up. Buck's hands dropped from his face, his eyes going wide.
Chim looked between them, his grin turning sly. "What? Too soon?"
"Chimney," Hen said, elbowing him. "You can’t just volunteer your self as the photographer for their wedding.”
"I'm just saying—"
"Don't," Bobby said, but he was smiling. He walked over to the couch and looked down at Buck with fond exasperation. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Buck said, and he sounded surprised by it. "A lot better."
Bobby nodded. "Good. You're off for the next twelve hours. That's an order."
"But—"
"That's an order, Buck."
Buck opened his mouth, closed it, and then nodded. "Okay."
Bobby patted his shoulder and moved on, already calling out assignments for the post-call cleanup. Hen and Chim fell into their usual banter, and Ravi started restocking the ambulance.
Eddie stood up, offering Buck his hand. Buck took it, letting Eddie pull him to his feet. He wobbled a little, and Eddie's hand found his lower back, steadying him.
"You okay?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah," Buck said, and he smiled—a real smile, the kind that reached his eyes. "I am now."
Chris appeared at Eddie's side, tugging on his sleeve. "Can we go home now? I want to show Buck the new dinosaur book I got at the airport."
Buck's face lit up. "You got me a dinosaur book?"
"It's not for you. It's for me. But you can read it to me."
Buck laughed, reaching out to ruffle Chris's hair. "Deal."
They gathered their things slowly, taking their time. Buck's movements were still a little sluggish, but the color was back in his cheeks, and the tension in his shoulders was gone. Eddie watched him out of the corner of his eye as they packed up, making sure he wasn't pushing himself too hard.
As they headed for the door, Hen called out,
"Get some rest, you two!"
"We will," Eddie said.
"Take care of him," Chim added, winking.
"I always do."
Buck rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He bumped his shoulder against Eddie's as they walked out into the cool evening air. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and the world felt soft and quiet.
"Hey," Buck said, stopping at the edge of the parking lot.
Eddie turned. "Yeah?"
Buck looked at him, his eyes soft, his hair still a mess, his cheeks still pink. "Thanks. For making me stay."
Eddie stepped closer, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in Buck's eyes. "You don't have to thank me for taking care of you."
"I know. But I want to." Eddie smiled and reached up, brushing the front of bucks hair up more as it had flopped onto his face.
"I've got you, Buck. Always." Buck leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. When he opened them, his eyes were soft and warm, and Eddie couldn’t help smiling.
“Always,” Buck repeated softly, a sleepy little smile tugging at his mouth.
Like there had never been any other answer
"Always," Eddie confirmed.
Chris, already buckled into the backseat, rolled down the window. "Are you two going to kiss or what?" Buck choked. Eddie's face went scarlet.
"Christopher!" Eddie said.
"What? Grandpa said you should tell people how you feel before it's too late. I'm just helping."
Buck burst out laughing, doubling over, his hand braced on Eddie's arm. Eddie shook his head, but he was laughing too, the tension breaking into something warm and easy.
Buck laughed, stepping closer and pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Eddie then grabbed bucks face leaving a quick peck on his lips.
“Happy now?”
“Yes,” Chris called from the car.
Eddie shook his head. “You two are impossible.”
“Love you too, Dad,” Chris said.
"Get in the car, Diaz," Eddie said, pointing at Buck.
Buck grinned, wiping his eyes. "Yes, sir."
They climbed into the car, Buck in the passenger seat, Eddie behind the wheel. As Eddie pulled out of the station, Buck's hand found his on the center console, their fingers lacing together.
Eddie glanced over. Buck was looking out the window, a soft smile on his face, his thumb tracing lazy circles on Eddie's knuckles.
"Hey," buck said.
Eddie turned. "Yeah?"
Buck squeezed his hand. "Welcome home."
Eddie’s smile widened, soft and bright. He squeezed Buck’s hand once, their fingers still tangled together.
Home.
That was what Buck had meant.
And Eddie understood.
It was good to be home.
And Eddie drove them home, one hand on the wheel, the other holding onto Buck like he'd never let go. Because he wouldn't. Not now. Not ever.