Chapter Text
Thank to ronordmann for the lovely cover.
https://ronordmann.tumblr.com/
Eddie stared at the assorted box of teas, picking up one and scanning the label before putting it back down. Each box said the same thing: calming, relaxing, soothing bedtime formula. He settled on chamomile. His mother used to drink it when he was a kid, and his father was away on business. Funny—it was made of flowers, not leaves.
Heating a pot of water, Eddie leaned against the counter and stared into the darkness. He had no idea what time it was and he didn’t want to look at the clock knowing he would only start counting the minutes until his alarm went off. It was late, too late to get any decent sleep, but he had to try.
His whole body ached, his brain hurt, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone through the whole night without waking up, to comfort Christopher, to answer the phone when Buck was suffering from his own insomnia and worry–over Eddie.
The tea kettle whistled, startling Eddie out of his daze. He grabbed the kettle before the noise woke Chris and poured the water over the tea bag to let it steep.
Glancing at the doorway, Eddie wondered if his son could go through a year without another trauma and just live a happy life like so many his age.
Sipping his tea, Eddie hoped he could scrap together three hours in a row before his next shift.
His head felt light as a feather when he hit the pillow, but no matter how long he waited, sleep never came.
Eddie eventually got up, moving around his bedroom on autopilot, pulling out the clothes he needed for work. Removing his nightshirt and throwing it in the hamper, Eddie walked into the bathroom to take a shower. He paused in front of the mirror in morbid fascination and stared at the faded bruises over his chest.
The bruises would fade soon, the cracked rib would heal in a couple more weeks, the coughing would end. Then, he’d finally return to full duty instead of being stuck with paperwork.
Coffee wired Eddie’s brain and a hot shower loosened tight muscles, but he still felt like he was nursing a hangover minus the pleasure that came with alcohol.
But Christopher woke up at a normal time and that was a win in his book. Watching Chris eat his oatmeal, Eddie absently grabbed coloring books from the shelf and stuffed them into his son’s book bag.
“Dad?”
Eddie sat the book bag down on the chair. “Yeah?”
“Do you dream?”
“Sometimes. Why?”
Chris looked up at Eddie, his forehead scrunching in thought. “Where do they come from?”
“Dreams?”
“Uh-huh.”
It took a moment before Eddie figured out the easiest way to articulate the answer. “Well, sometimes they’re stories or images we think about when we’re asleep.”
Christopher’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “So, we make them?”
“Not on purpose, it’s more like…they can be part of our memories or our thoughts….” Eddie rubbed his burning eyes, not sure where this conversation was going. “Did you dream about something that confused you?”
“I dreamed that Buck lived with us.”
It was Eddie’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”
Chris slowly got down from his chair and grabbed his forearm crutches. “Yeah, he helped cook dinner and we didn’t have to go to his house to hang out.”
Eddie laughed, running a hand through Christopher’s hair. “That would save on gas, wouldn’t it?”
Christopher started pulling out the coloring books Eddie had picked out and stuffed different ones inside his bag. Eddie almost asked Chris more about his dream, if his son was happy in it, if Buck slept on the sofa or….
“Dad?”
“Hmm?”
Chris snickered. “You were staring at the air.”
They were going to have to stop at Starbucks before swinging by Buck’s. “All right, let’s go,” he started ushering them out the door. “Or your dad’s going to be late.”
Most of the time, Eddie and Buck shared the same shifts, but occasionally, their schedules differed. The tunnel rescue and Eddie’s hospitalization had shaken Christopher. And after Buck suggested it, Eddie realized how much it would help Christopher to hang out with one of his favorite people.
Buck opened the door with a smirk. “I thought I was going to have to send a search party for you two.”
Christopher snickered while he went inside, Buck smiling at him.
“Yeah, we got stuck in traffic.” Eddie checked his watch with a frown. “Cap’s going to kill me.”
“I highly doubt that.” Buck was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair damp from a shower. “Hey. I have some left-over croissants and eggs.”
“Sorry, no time.”
Buck rested a hand on Eddie’s arm. “One of the things I’ve learned recently is that we spend too much of life racing around and not enough of it enjoying the simple moments in life.”
Before Eddie had a chance to politely refuse, Buck started leading him toward the kitchen. “I bought this new grass-fed butter, it’s just amazing.”
“Grass-fed butter? What does that actually mean?”
Buck stood in the middle of his kitchen and handed Eddie a pastry. “That the cows eat grass?”
Eddie took the offered croissant, pausing in thought. “True.”
Somehow, Buck beamed even brighter. “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift.” He held up his buttered pastry. “And we should enjoy this gift.”
“You been reading new-age books again?”
“It’s called mindfulness, Eddie. And yes, I have. Ever since, well you know…,” Buck shrugged.
Yeah, Eddie knew. But he also realized that the hour he was missing was just as terrifying for those who feared they’d lost him. Even more so for Buck who had been the one who had to keep Eddie stabilized after his brush with near-drowning and hypothermia.
Eddie took a bite of his breakfast. The croissant really was heavenly. He wiped crumbs away from his fingers, distracted by the little dab of butter at the edge of Buck’s mouth. “I really need to go.”
“When’s your sit down with Cap?”
“After my next medical evaluation on Monday. Still on light duty until then.”
“Hey, I know what it’s like. Trust me. But it’s only been a little two weeks you know? I mean, you almost….” Buck stared at Eddie’s chest, swallowing. “It was a close call.”
Eddie reached out and rested a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “But I’m good now. And in a few days, we’ll all return to normal.”
“Speaking of, you’re off on Friday, right?
“Yeah?” How did Buck know that? Did Eddie say something and forget?
“And Carla said she could look after Chris just in case you needed a night to decompress?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go out.”
“What?” Eddied asked, surprised. “I don’t know…I really should catch up on some sleep….”
“We need to cherish every day.” Buck gestured while he spoke. “Finish today’s light-duty shift. Sleep all day tomorrow, then come out with me on Friday.” When Eddie hesitated, Buck raised an eyebrow. “What pressing things do you need to do? Sort your sock drawer or, I know, paint the inside of your closets? I mean, when’s the last time you let off a little steam?”
Eddie wasn’t about to defend how he spent his time off, even if he couldn’t remember the last time he went out for fun. “Yeah, okay. I can grab few drinks with you.”
Buck clapped his hands. “Awesome. Sounds like a plan.”
During his shift Eddie did equipment inventories, reviewed the more recent protocols, and used the treadmill for over an hour. His muscles were heavy, his eyelids even heavier, but all he did when he went to bed that night was stare at the ceiling.
He woke up before the alarm clock went off and dragged himself to his feet to help Chris get ready for school.
He had eight hours before Chris got home. Grocery shopping and laundry wouldn’t get done on their own.
Eddie wandered outside in search of the mail, blinking against the bright sunlight. Sifting through the pile as he walked, Eddie flipped through advertisements, the phone bill, his credit card bill, and a letterhead he didn’t recognize.
Law Office of Kenneth Hiller, PLLC.
He stared at the envelope in confusion.
A jeep sped down the street. Eddie held up his hand against the blinding reflection from one of the mirrors. For the briefest of moments he felt the need to duck behind his truck for cover. But his feet remained rooted in place and he resisted the sudden urge to bolt until the vehicle went around the corner.
Releasing a shaky breath, Eddie went back inside. If he didn’t get everything done he needed to today, there was no way he’d ever be able to meet Buck tomorrow.
It was almost ten at night and Eddie still felt wired and frayed around the edges. Instead of tea, he took a sleeping pill left over from the prescription his doctor had given him after his mandatory therapy last summer.
He woke in the middle of the night soaked in sweat and with no idea why his body was shaking.
He threw away the prescription bottle the following morning.
Buck fiddled with his phone as he went through his emails. Doctor’s appointments, bill reminders, and his daily affirmation. He scrolled to that message.
To think in terms of either pessimism or optimism oversimplifies the truth. The problem is to see reality as it is.
He found that reading got him out of tough spots in the past. Researching natural disasters helped him navigate his thoughts after the tsunami, reading about living for the current day helped put things in perspective about the paths in life.
Settling down on the sofa, Buck stretched out, letting his thoughts drift. To the moment lightning struck, creating and explosion that buried his best friend under forty feet of Earth. To the moment he clawed the ground, willing to dig with his bare hands to reach him.
He’ll always remember the way the rest of his crew placated him when they all thought Eddie was dead.
It wasn’t until after the tunnel rescue, after the moment he thought Eddie was gone forever, that Buck made the biggest realization of all: his feelings for Eddie went beyond platonic. His heart raced around Eddie; being around him filled Buck with happiness and wants and desires.
But despite all his daily reading, Buck had no idea how to find the path he wanted to be with Eddie. Or if he even should.
When Buck walked into the bar, he spotted Eddie on the far left dressed casually in jeans and a white Henley. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually make it,” Buck teased, taking the next stool.
Eddie snorted and handed him a basket of pretzels. “I go out.”
Buck tried not to laugh out loud. Eddie occasionally went out with the rest of the crew or with Buck, but he couldn’t remember the last time that happened.
Eddie signaled the bar keeper. “Two shots of Espolòn tequila.”
Buck’s eyebrows shot up. “Fancy.”
“Only tequila is good tequila. Besides. I owe you. For what you’ve been doing for Christopher.”
The sincerity in Eddie’s voice sent a warm tingle down Buck’s spine that had nothing to do with the liquor. “Whatever I can do to help. How’s he doing?”
Eddie downed his shot. “He still has nightmares. Not as frequent since the accident. But I think seeing me in the hospital so soon after his mother died…it really shook him up.”
Ouch. Buck hadn’t realized the depth of Chris’s problems. He swallowed, trying hard not to allow guilt to bubble up inside him again. “Must be rough. What about you?” Buck studied Eddie’s face, noticing the drawn expression, the tension in his body. “How are you doing?”
Eddie didn’t talk about the rescue.
“I’m good. You know. Busy. Work. Home.” His gaze drifted to the glass in his hand. “I’m just worried about my son.”
“I’m sorry,” Buck could feel Eddie’s frustration. “He hasn’t said anything to me, either. I’d tell you if he did.”
“I know you would. It’s just…going to take time, you know?” Eddie narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Time does help. I mean, it took me forever to realize it after the tsunami…. You get sucked into your own dark thoughts and they just keep pulling you into this pit…,” Buck cleared his throat, gazing at Eddie. “That is, until someone reaches out to lend you a hand.”
Eddie squinted at him in confusion. “Hey, that was all Christopher. He’s amazing, like sunshine in a paper bag. You two saved each other and…I couldn’t be any prouder.”
Buck had to do everything in his power not to blurt out what he was feeling in that moment. The way Eddie beamed when he talked about his son, the softness of his hair, his eyes—if Buck wasn’t careful, he’d wrap himself around Eddie like a giant sloth and never let go.
Buck didn’t intend to get drunk. Not just drunk, but the affectionate and uncoordinated type of inebriation. He hung on Eddie’s shoulder as they stumbled out into the parking lot. Okay, Buck was the one tripping over his two feet while Eddie was smirking as he guided Buck safely around other people who were coming in for a late-night drink.
“I don’t get it; I’m not a lightweight.”
“I had a big dinner before coming out; I bet you didn’t,” Eddie pointed out.
“You drank nothing but water,” Buck pouted. “Not fair.”
“I had water with every drink. There’s a difference.”
“You always have to be in control of everything, don’t you? I mean this was supposed to be your night to unwind, let things go…release some stress.”
Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, but he didn’t say anything. Buck was too mesmerized by the long line of Eddie’s jaw to comment. “You’re very pretty,” he blurted out loud.
Eddie paused, not in shock, not in horror, just a long look before he started nudging Buck along again. “Okay. Come on, I’ll drive you.”
Buck’s jeep was easy to spot.
Eddie drove Buck home and even helped him to the door. “Do you have electrolytes or Gatorade?”
“Would you like to come inside and check?”
Eddie looked dangerous when he smiled like that, and for a moment Buck thought he was going to take him up on his offer.
“Good night, Buck,” Eddie said instead.
Shit.
Buck woke up with a monster headache and a case of second-hand embarrassment…at himself.
Did he really hit on Eddie last night? Shit. It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t been wanting to, but that wasn’t the plan.
Then the tequila happened. Not to mention Eddie remained mostly sober when all Buck wanted was for him to have a good time.
It was four in the morning, but Buck didn’t want to wait until a semi-decent time to ensure everything was cool between them.
“Hey, just wanted to apologize for tonight,” he texted. “Didn’t mean to go all happy-octopus on you.”
Everything’s all good.
Buck squinted at the response before typing: “Why are you still up?”
Couldn’t sleep.
Buck had a fuzzy recollection of Eddie mentioning a battle with insomnia.
“That sucks. I’ll bring you a book I read recently that might help on Monday.”
Sure. Thanks.
Buck fired off a smiley face, glad he didn’t screw things up while thinking of a time to try again.
Obviously, Eddie wasn’t upset. That was a plus. He’d been more worried about Christopher and was probably not really in the right headspace for anything else.
Buck looked around the room, trying to remember which book helped with insomnia, curious how long Eddie had been struggling with it. He never mentioned it before, even though it sounded like an on-going problem. In fact, Buck wondered if Eddie would have ever brought it up it if wasn’t for a couple of beers.
Yawning, Buck decided he should crawl into his bed first then look for the book when he woke up. He was sure with a few good tips Eddie would be as good as new, ready to tackle the world together like they always did.
Eddie couldn’t breathe. The fire was in the walls, spreading overhead, pieces of ceiling falling everywhere. His lungs burned with every breath. The heat was unbearable, pressing in on him from all directions, sweat pouring down his face. He crawled on his hands and knees, searching for a way out, dark smoke filling every open space.
“Help!”
His chest tightened at the sound of Buck’s panicked voice. Where was he?
“Buck!” he yelled, his voice sputtering into a choking rasp.
He inched toward the door, keeping his head low, his eyes watering from debris-filled smoke.
“Eddie!”
Knowing the door would be hot, Eddie rammed it open with his shoulder, the door giving way—into the desert.
He stared in horror as high wind blew swirls of burning sand toward his face….
Eddie bolted up from where he fell asleep on the sofa, his chest heaving. He gasped, his body fighting to take in more oxygen, his eyes tearing as his throat closed in even more.
He stumbled about until he leaned against the wall with his hands, his brain frantic. Finally, reflex and biology worked in sync. He panted in between coughing fits, finally drawing in enough oxygen to calm down and breathe normal.
“Dad?”
Pushing off the wall, Eddie wavered toward his son standing in the hallway. “Hey, buddy.”
Christopher peered at him anxiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie said still trying to steady his breath. “Just had a bad dream is all.”
“You were coughing really bad.”
“I know.” Eddie knelt and rubbed his hands up and down Christopher’s arms in reassurance. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you still sick?”
During the well rescue, Eddie aspirated water resulting in the beginnings of pneumonia. Hence one of the reasons for light duty. “No, I’m fine. I’m…,” Eddie pressed hand to his chest. “It’s just residual stuff. I’m good. I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
Christopher still sounded scared and it was Eddie’s job to ensure he felt safe. “I’m sure. My lungs are still a little sore and they get irritated if I breathe too hard or too fast. But I’m good. I promise.” Eddie stood up and took Christopher’s hand and started leading him into the hallway. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Why were you sleeping in the living room?”
Eddie honestly had no idea. “I must have drifted off watching TV.”
Waiting until his son got back into bed, Eddie bent down and kissed him goodnight. “See if you can get back to sleep? I don’t want you to be too tired for school.”
“What about you? Will you be able to go back to sleep?”
“I’ll probably count sheep or something.”
“That never works.”
Eddie sighed. “Yeah, but it’s worth trying.”
After seeing Christopher off to school, Eddie started cleaning. He had three hours before reporting for his medical evaluation, then his meeting with Bobby.
Vacuuming took time, so did the dishes. He started in on his room, pulling out drawers and rearranging things.
“What pressing things do you need to do? Sort your sock drawer?”
Biting his lip, Eddie closed his dresser drawer. Buck. Eddie wasn’t always the most observant about social cues, but he knew Buck was hinting at something, or was trying to, before Eddie had bought another round. Something that made all the hair along his neck stand up in anticipation.
Growling under his breath, Eddie grabbed some boxes he meant to tidy up weeks ago. Stuff that needed organizing. Opening and inspecting the contents, he found the box he’d taken to Christopher’s show and tell.
What the hell had he been thinking, leaving this stuff out?
“You really were oxygen starved,” he mumbled out loud.
He pulled out the black box containing his Silver Star. The tiny bit of metal was the only time his father had beamed with pride looking at him. With a sigh, Eddie opened his closet door and pulled out the metal lockbox he never actually kept secure and set it on top of the bed.
This would explain how prying, curious people were able to find his stuff, he chastised himself.
Opening the lockbox, Eddie thumbed through the rest of the contents: his and Christopher's birth certificates, insurance forms. He fingered his marriage certificate with heaviness inside his chest and ignored another document just underneath it.
He picked up another leather-encased certificate, flipping it open and scanned the inside.
From the Armed Forces of the United States of America. This is to certify that E-6 Staff Sergeant Edmundo Diaz was Honorably Discharged from the United States Army.
He closed the flap and stored it. He put his Silver Star away, ignoring the other boxes, his Purple Hearts, Army Achievement Medals. Ignored it all.
He took the metal box and returned it to his closet, shoving it into the back and closing the door. Leaning both hands against the door, Eddie lowered his head and took several ragged breaths to calm his suddenly racing heart, his hand absently rubbing at his shoulder.
Eddie sat quietly at the table while Bobby scanned the files in front of him. The medical evaluation had gone smoothly, despite his most recent coughing fit, and he was eager to return to work.
Closing the file, Bobby leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Hanaar cleared you for full duty.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How are you really feeling? Cracked bones knit, lungs recover. But the body sometimes needs a few more minutes.”
The Army taught Eddie a lot, including always being honest with your CO. Hiding injuries were frowned upon because not only did it impact your health, but also the overall safety of your unit.
“I’d say I’m at 90 or 95%. I might get winded if I go too hard. The rib doesn’t bother me unless you poke at it.”
Bobby nodded. “And your mental health?”
“Sir?”
“You were trapped inside a drill well flooding with water.”
Eddie straightened in his chair. “But I found my way out.”
“You did.”
“Listen Cap, I’m fine. It was a scary situation, terrifying in fact. I’d be a liar if I said otherwise.” He contemplated his hands on the table before glancing back up at his boss. “Sleeping has been tough, but I’m working through it.” He tilted his head back and forth. “I think my time overseas helped, though; gave me the tools needed to focus on what had to do…which was to back those who needed me. Get back to my family. And I did.”
Bobby studied Eddie’s face before gathering the file. “It’s Monday. I’ll put you on the full duty roster for Friday. In the meantime, would you mind continuing to put those Army skills to good use and finish re-writing our maintenance procedures?”
Eddie laughed, relived. “No problem. Thank you.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “I appreciate it.”
Whenever the station got a call, Eddie desperately wanted to jump up and go with his crew to the scene. It made Buck’s struggle with retuning to work after his leg injury even more poignant. But Eddie could wait a few more days and finish updating the department’s outdated manuals, saving the captain some much needed time.
His phone rang and Eddie picked it up without looking at the caller ID. “This is Eddie.”
“Mr. Diaz, this is Henry Blankenship from the law office of Kenneth Hiller. I’m contacting you regarding your wife’s estate.”
Eddie closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “My wife didn’t have an estate; she rented an apartment.”
“Shannon Diaz recently inherited property from her mother and the status of that is still probate while we work out certain details.”
“Okay?”
“As Mrs. Diaz’s husband, you are the beneficiary of that estate, but said property has a substantial amount of back taxes owed.”
It took a moment before Eddie’s brain figured out what the lawyer was talking about. “Wait. What does that have to do with me?”
“It means, Mr. Diaz, that you need to come down to our office so we can discuss this further.”
Eddie dunked the mop into the bucket before slapping it down onto the concrete floor, brushing it side to side, completing one section of floor and retuning to another. It was rhythmic: dunking, slapping, swinging the mop around, then wringing out the water by pressing the bucket lever and repeating the whole process.
“Whoa, what are you doing?”
Eddie didn’t look up at Buck while he continued mopping. “What does it look like?”
“Manual labor.”
“Yeah, well, there’s your answer.”
“If you mop any harder, we might be able to eat off the floor,” Chim said walking by.
Pulling up the mop, Eddie shoved it into the yellow bucket again. “Well, that means I’m doing it right.”
Buck grabbed the mop handle, stopping Eddie from jerking it away, his voice thicker. “Seriously, are you okay?”
Eddie ground his teeth and looked up at Buck; some of the anger bleeding out at seeing his friend’s concerned expression, the way his focus was one hundred percent focused on Eddie. “I’m just annoyed.”
“Why?”
Instinct told Eddie to brush everything off, but he was trying hard to break some of his bad habits. He still held onto the wooden handle but didn’t try to pull it out of Buck’s grip. “A lawyer called, said something about Shannon's estate, and how I have meet with them. And I…I just don’t know.” He shook his head.
“That sucks.” Buck let go of the mop handle and stepped closer, his gear smelling of a dirt and outside. “Maybe, we could you know, grab a bite to eat tonight and talk about it?”
“Thanks. Maybe another night.”
“You sure?” Buck looked around the room then back at Eddie. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the other–”
“Hey, Buck. Cap needs you,” Hen called out from the balcony.
Buck stared at Eddie like he’d done something wrong, a sad, wounded look capturing his expression. Eddie couldn’t allow his problems to cause others pain. He rested a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I said we’re good and I mean it. In fact, you’re like the most stable thing going on with me right now.”
Eddie bit his lip after the admission, but Buck’s eyes went from anxious to bright, a shy grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, well, that’s good. Um, when I’m done with the Cap, I’ll give you the book I promised.”
“You might want to take a shower first.” Eddie pointed at Buck’s coat, noting that it was covered in orange dirt and glitter? “Do I want to even know?”
“Probably not.”
Buck took another look at the floor. “Do you realize you, like, mopped the whole garage floor?”
Eddie looked down in curiosity. “Huh.”
“Guess it helps all the trucks were pulled out to be cleaned. Hey, want to clean my loft next?”
“Go on, before you make the Cap wait any longer.”
Buck winked at him and damn if it didn’t fill his chest with something unexpected. Something warm and….
Eddie turned around and attacked the mop bucket so hard it almost toppled over, his entire body humming with more energy than he knew what to do with.
The one thing Buck had learned about life the hard way was that it had horrible timing. He made these eye-opening revelations in the 8th inning of a blow-out game. He spent years fumbling about life going when, in truth, all he wanted was to help people.
It took him almost a year before he realized Abby was never coming back, or he harbored more than platonic feelings for his best friend. And now that he’d realized the depth of those emotions—he had no idea what to do about it.
The flu spread like wildfire throughout the firehouse, taking out ten members, which meant double shifts and not enough time to juggle a string of calls. Not to mention Eddie’s angry phone calls with the lawyer at various corners of the firehouse and frantic pacing outside sucking up any remaining spare time.
“Hey, Buck. Could you spot me?”
“Of course.”
Buck stood behind the bench press while Eddie lay on his back. It was a ridiculously amazing view, given Eddie was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and shorts.
“Um...do you need help lifting the bar up?” Buck asked after finding his voice.
After a few adjustments, Eddie looked up at Buck peering down at him. “Yeah.”
Buck lifted the bar off from the rack and slowly lowered it until Eddie reached up and took it with his hands. “How many reps do you want?”
“Ten.”
During the set, Buck knew not to touch the bar, letting Eddie do all the work. His job was to keep his eyes on Eddie to see if he required help, ready to step in if he needed.
But his eyes kept drifting over the length of Eddie’s chest, all the way down to his well-defined thighs. Buck swallowed. Eddie was a beautiful display of hard-work and dedication: fit, but not over-muscled.
Buck couldn’t help staring at the way Eddie squeezed his shoulders together as he lifted up the weights, forcing his back into the bench, flexing his biceps, the planes of his chest tightening with every motion, his feet pushing against the floor to keep his body in place.
Sweat beaded across Eddie’s face, over his throat and down his arms as he lifted.
“Ten,” Buck said out loud.
“Twelve.”
“Eighteen.”
Buck found himself lost in the rhythm, his heart beating to every inhale and exhale. His throat dry.
Were they at twenty? Twenty-five? It seemed like a lot, but Eddie kept going. Pushing himself harder and harder. Which didn’t seem like a good idea given his rib had just healed.
“Buck?”
“Hmmm?”
“The rack?” Eddie grunted, his arm trembling with the strain.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” Buck took the bar from Eddie’s hands, placing it back onto the rack.
Eddie stared up at Buck, his chest rising and falling. “Did you get distracted?”
Buck swallowed. “No. I mean…I just zoned out a little. I don’t think I was the only one.”
Getting up from the bench, Eddie grabbed his towel hanging from one of the other racks and hung it over his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I just got lost in my head, that’s all.”
Eddie walked toward the showers, his shoulder brushing against Buck as he walked away, the contact sending tendrils of exhilaration down Buck’s spine.
If Eddie weren’t already going into the washroom, Buck would have run into the nearest shower and turned the knob all the way to freezing.
Buck avoided working out at the same time as Eddie, though that was easier said than done, since they were back working the same schedule. Friday was Eddie’s first night back on full duty and, of course, it was a wild night.
Being on call was a life built upon interruptions. One moment Buck and Eddie were discussing the science behind hot peppers, and the next they were jumping to the sound of the alarm.
They arrived on a scene of a car accident. One vehicle was on fire, the other was a station wagon stuck on a set of train tracks, the horn of the locomotive blaring from less than a mile away.
Chim and Hen went toward the burning car; Buck grabbed the jaws of life and ran toward the station wagon, Eddie hot on his heels.
Carrying the spreaders, Buck pounded on the driver-side window. “Ma’am?” But the woman was unconscious.
Eddie took his pro-bar and smashed apart the windows. “LAFD! Ma’am can you hear us?”
Eddie stepped away while Buck inserted the jaws at the door. Buck’s heart raced while he worked the jaws, muscles quivering, heart pounding while the freight train blasted its horn.
“You’ve got it,” Eddie encouraged, never moving from Buck’s side, ready to assist.
“Guys!” Bobby yelled in warning.
It was working. Buck channeled all his strength into the handles. “Just...one…second…more….”
“We don’t have one,” Eddie warned, pressing a hand on Buck’s shoulder.
Breaks screeching, the train barreled toward them.
He almost had it. He just needed another fraction of an inch. Buck twisted the jaws just so….
The door broke away. Buck tossed the jaws to the ground. Eddie cut away her seatbelt with a knife and grabbed the woman’s arms and started yanking her through the opening Buck has just created.
The train horn blew again.
Buck scrambled, helping Eddie pull their victim out and dove away from the tracks seconds before the train crashed into the unmoving vehicle.
Two hours later, and an hour after the end of their shift, Buck’s body was still riding a wave of endorphins and adrenaline.
Leaning against the side of Eddie’s truck in the parking lot, Buck watched the night sky, his heart running like a buzz saw inside his chest. He had no idea what he was doing or what he expected to happen when Eddie arrived.
Buck didn’t have long to wait. He heard footsteps in the parking lot and looked up to find Eddie suddenly standing in front of him.
The tension in the air was thick, like a growing electric charge. Staring at Eddie, Buck’s mind went blank, any words he might’ve said evaporating at the tip of his tongue.
Eddie’s breathing was heavy, his shoulders tenser than a bow. And he kept staring at him in a way Buck had never seen. His eyes laser-focused on Buck’s lips, then shifted down to his chest.
God, Eddie looked amazing like this: his hair wet and messy from a shower, his clothes damp over his skin.
They both stood silent, still, radiating energy, until Buck couldn’t take it anymore. “Tell me you’ve thought of kissing me.” It was practically an order.
Eddie swallowed, not immediately answering. Buck had enough for the both of them.
“We were seconds away from death. Not just seconds—inches. And I don’t know about you, but life’s too short to be lost on wasted moments.” Buck stepped close enough to watch drops of water slip from the short strands of Eddie’s hair to trace unsteady patterns down his forehead. “So, tell me. Have you ever thought about kissing me?”
“Yes. I do think about kissing you.” Eddie’s voice was rough, strangled in a way Buck had never really heard before.
Buck’s brain went from huh to oh in about two point two seconds. “What? I mean…. Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what are you waiting–”
Eddie took Buck’s face with both hands, bringing Buck’s mouth against his. The kiss was fast and strong, as though Eddie had held back for so long, he’d put all his energy into this very moment.
Buck returned the passion, tasting Eddie’s mouth, gripping his arms.
“Um,” Buck said after his third huff for air.
Eddie’s chest heaved, his whole body shaking. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, no. You absolutely should have. In fact, I think we should do it again.”
Buck’s loft was thankfully only a five-minute drive from the station. He and Eddie took the stairs leading up to his bedroom two at a time.
They had barely made it up the flight when Eddie started tugging at Buck’s t-shirt. Buck just managed to pull it over his head when Eddie started tracing the lines of Buck’s collarbone, the sensation of Eddie’s fingers over his skin making Buck shiver.
"So, we're...," Buck gasped as Eddie’s hands went lower, down each rib, over his abdomen, before they started working the zipper to his pants. "We're doing this now? I thought we...well, I don't know what I thought. We've never really exactly discussed...."
Eddie started jerking Buck’s pants down to his ankles.
Buck returned the favor, fumbling with Eddie’s clothes, removing his shirt, pushing Eddie's pants and underwear to the floor. Heart racing, he took his time tracing the outlines of Eddie’s thighs, up his sides, running the flat of his hands over his pecs, Eddie’s chest heaving faster and faster as Buck enjoyed feeling the muscles underneath.
God, Buck loved seeing Eddie like this, wild and eager. “Jesus, Eds, look at you.”
“Come here.” Eddie hands caressed Buck’s face then pulled him in for a deep, desperate kiss, until he finally pulled away. "Let me fuck you," Eddie muttered.
Buck almost forgot how to breathe. "Yes. Let’s do that.”
“But first….” Eddie lightly pushed against Buck’s shoulders until he was pressed against the wall next to his bed. Then Eddie sank to his knees and pulled down Buck’s underwear and buried his face in Buck's groin, tasting and licking.
“Oh, God,” Buck groaned, his legs trembling.
Eddie took Buck's cock, sucking him down like he couldn’t get enough.
"Jesus, Eddie." Buck jerked helplessly into Eddie's mouth.
He didn’t know what gave him more pleasure—watching Eddie work him, or witnessing Eddie display such passionate emotion, like he could never give or get enough.
Buck couldn’t help the gibberish coming out of his mouth, alternating pleading, begging, and demanding, his legs shaking from keeping himself upright while Eddie’s tongue did amazing things. Until Buck couldn’t contain it anymore, his whole body jerking from its release.
He might have yelled out, Buck wasn’t sure. His whole body vibrated in pleasure, the wall the only thing keeping him upright.
Eddie pushed slightly away, looking up at Buck, his lips swollen, eyes lidded with lust. Buck offered him a hand up, pulling Eddie to his feet and they stood there for a moment, oddly abashed, simply looking at each other, panting and grinning.
Still smiling, Eddie started looking around the room, but Buck beat him to it. “Lube’s in the nightstand drawer.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow in an oh expression.
“Always be prepared,” Buck breathed, still buzzing in bliss.
Pulling out the drawer, Eddie grabbed a condom and rolled it onto himself. Then he found the tube and poured lube over his fingers and started spreading more over his cock.
“Have you…I mean have you done this before?” Buck asked curious. “I have. If you need help. I mean, I’ve experimented a few times.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I…you know…. I watched some videos before.”
Buck grinned; it was such a genuine, honest answer. “That’s good.”
Buck watched Eddie stroke himself lightly, his brain short-circuiting at the beautiful sight. Heart thumping in expectation, Buck turned around and crawled onto the bed onto his hands and knees.
Waiting, Buck braced himself, breathing in anticipation.
Eddie rested a warm hand on Buck’s hip. Buck licked his lips in anticipation, fingers digging into the mattress. He gasped as Eddie slowly pushed two fingers into him, working him open.
"Is this good?" Eddie asked.
“Yes,” Buck moaned as Eddie continued stretching and teasing him.
Buck’s arms started trembling, pleasure coursing down his spine, his breathing ragged. Eddie was methodical, excited. Just when Buck couldn’t wait another moment, Eddie’s cock replaced his fingers, Buck releasing a slow groan.
Eddie pushed all the way, making hot circles against Buck’s back with his mouth, clasping him tightly, holding him. "Been wanting this,” he panted.
“Yes,” Buck said, repeating himself over and over again as Eddie moved faster and faster, fucking him, Buck thrusting back against Eddie. “God yes, God….”
And Buck finally let himself go, giving into the thrum of pleasure coursing through and over him.
Eddie let out a shout that made Buck grin ear-to-ear, then two of them collapsed next to each on the bed, boneless, Buck’s brain in a happy little place. This was good; this was right.