Chapter Text
Buck wanted to be married.
Well, not right this second.
He was probably a bit too drunk and a bit too covered in glitter to get married right now. He also couldn’t remember where he left his phone or where his shoes went, but that was all beside the point. Buck wanted to be married—eventually. Well, maybe sooner than eventually.
It was two hours into the New Year, and his ears were still ringing from the music blasting at the Han household earlier. There was probably still tinsel in his hair, he hadn’t checked though, he was too busy trying to keep the room from tilting every time he blinked. The sound of Eddie shutting the refrigerator snapped him out of his drunken haze, drawing his mind back to his previous thoughts.
Oh yeah, Buck wanted to be married.
He wanted the whole thing. He wanted the shampoo sharing, arguing over who would buy groceries, sharing a calendar thing. He wanted someone to fall asleep during movies with. He wanted someone to wake up in the morning to. He wanted to know their favorite breakfast and for them to know how he liked his coffee. He wanted someone to be there after a hard shift, to have someone who could step into the spiral with him and guide him back.
He wanted someone who made things easier by just existing with him.
Well, he had that already, he s’posed.
He had that in the next room.
But it was different.
Sure, they already lived together, cooked dinner with each other, argued about groceries, took turns doing laundry, had each other’s appointments in their phone calendars, and while Buck wasn’t gonna say he was raising Chris or anything—that was Eddie’s son and his entire world—Buck helped and always showed up, and he loved that kid with everything in him.
It was a partnership, wasn’t it? It just… wasn’t the kind he could call a relationship. It wasn’t the kind of partnership that came with vows or someone grabbing his hand and saying, You, I pick you.
Buck craved that part. He wanted to feel chosen.
He just didn’t know if anyone out there would ever fit him the way Eddie already did.
The room spun again.
From the kitchen, footsteps padded across the hardwood. The couch dipped beside him as Eddie sat down with a bowl of pretzels in hand, close enough that their knees touched. Buck didn’t move, he just sat there and let the moment exist between them, soft and fizzy.
“I wanna get married.”
Buck didn’t mean to blurt that out.
Eddie snorted into his beer. “You also said you wanted to learn guitar and start jogging before work. Wanting things at two in the morning doesn’t count.”
“I’m serious,” Buck insisted solemnly, leaning over to grab the pretzels and missing by a mile. “I want, like, a person. You know? Someone to do life with.”
“You have me.” Eddie reached into the bowl, grabbing a handful of pretzels and holding them out to Buck who plucked a few from the bunch. “We do life.”
Buck rolled his eyes as he tossed the snack into his mouth. “Yeah, but we don’t make out.”
“Well, you’ve never asked.”
Buck choked, sputtering on the pretzel. He coughed a few times, fist pressed against his chest as shook his head at Eddie. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m eating, Jesus.”
“I’m just saying,” Eddie continued with a grin, “being married isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know?”
Buck looked at him, still rubbing his hand against his chest. “You ever miss it, though?”
Eddie didn’t answer right away, leaning back on the couch with his arm draped over the back cushion. Buck leaned closer to his arm without realizing it, turning his body into the near touch.
Buck didn’t push against the silence, he just watched him. He knew Eddie had been through a lot, not just this year, but always; the world had taken too many swings at him and it left him bracing for impact more often than not. But this last stretch had been especially brutal with Chris leaving for Texas to live with his grandparents. Buck watched the way Eddie had shut down, and it gutted him to see him fall apart. Eventually, Eddie left LA to go after Chris, and had to say goodbye to the life he built here. Buck knew Eddie going after Chris was the best thing for both of them, no matter how much it hurt to lose him.
But then the lab accident happened.
The day the world cracked open and tried to take the 118 with it.
Everyone walked away somehow, though they had cut it close—Chim and Bobby especially. But the team survived against the impossible, like they always did.
After that, Eddie couldn’t stand to be away anymore. Buck knew he was having a hard time in Texas despite patching things up with Chris, so it didn’t surprise him that much that they came home after that. He could still remember the look on Eddie’s face when he stepped back into the firehouse, wary and worn thin; he carried regret like a second skin, blaming himself for not being there to stop the close call. He carried himself like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be there.
He didn’t say it outright, but Buck had seen it anyway. He saw the way he kept his hands in his pockets, how he couldn’t meet Bobby’s eyes for longer than a second, how he smiled like maybe he wasn’t supposed to.
Buck couldn’t stand to see that.
Eddie had spent his whole life trying to earn things he already deserved. He tried to be unshakable, like goodness was something he had to earn with silence and denial. But he was already good, already enough.
That wasn’t something Buck fully knew how to fix, but he tried. He didn’t point it out, but he showed up every day, baked goods or beer in hand. He tried his best to be a safe place to land. Buck let Eddie take what he needed without asking for it, because that was what Eddie deserved. Buck wanted to be the person who gave him that, even if he never got to say it out loud.
He wanted Eddie to feel chosen, not for what he could endure or hold together, but just for being him.
Buck shifted, brushing their knees together in the familiar way they always did.
“You don’t have to answer,” Buck said, quieter now.
Eddie stared at the wall for a second longer before sucking in sharply. “No, it’s okay. Yeah, I miss it sometimes. You know, having someone.”
You have me, Buck cut in internally.
“Like, a real partner,” Eddie continued, staring off like he could still see it. “Someone who gets it, who you can just… do whatever with. Who picks up the slack when you can’t, I guess. I liked having someone who just knew me.”
I know you, Buck thought to himself. I know you better than anyone. I know you better than I know myself.
But he didn’t say that out loud. He let Eddie’s words settle between them, that soft and warm feeling fizzling in his chest again. When he finally found the words, they were gentle as he said, “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
Eddie turned his head, their shoulders brushing. Neither of them pulled away. The room was still, heavy in that hazy way only the drunken middle of the night could be. Buck could still feel the champagne humming in his veins. His cheeks were warm and his eyes burned a bit from how tired he was, or maybe it was because he hadn’t blinked in the last five minutes.
He was suddenly extremely aware of blinking. He blinked once, twice, and then squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. He wondered if that technically counted as blinking, but at least his eyes didn’t sting anymore. He leaned back into the couch, realizing just how drunk he still was. God, maybe those extra shots weren’t a good idea.
Tipping his head back against the couch cushion, the ceiling swam slightly in his periphery. Everything felt loose, like the world had let go of its grip for the night and decided to let them float a while. Buck rested his head against Eddie’s arm that still hung on the back of the couch, and the world stopped swimming for a minute.
“I mean,” Eddie started, his voice a bit lower now, “we kinda got it figured out already, don’t we?”
Buck turned his head lazily toward him, his mouth catching on the soft fabric of Eddie’s long-sleeve shirt. A ridiculous part of him wanted to latch his lips onto the shirt. “We do?”
Eddie shrugged. “Not everything. But, you know… the living together part, sharing responsibilities, the knowing each other part.”
The world began to spin again, and Buck didn’t know what to say to that. His throat felt tight, like something had slipped between his ribs when he wasn’t looking. His voice was soft as he said, “Yeah, we make it work.”
“Yeah,” Eddie echoed. Then, after a pause, “You ever think about just… keeping it going?”
Buck blinked. “What, like living together forever?”
A snort filled the air, and Eddie looked half amused and half serious. “I dunno, maybe? Something like that. I mean, look, it’s a new year, right? Anything could happen. But neither of us wanna be alone forever. So, maybe if we’re both still single in a year or whatever, we could just—” he waved a hand vaguely, like he was lassoing the future— ”make it official.”
Buck’s heart tripped over itself.
No, actually, it felt as if his entire reality tripped over itself.
Make it official. The words echoed, too casual and too dangerous to be real, but they were. Buck’s body was hot all of a sudden, like someone had cranked the thermostat, or maybe someone set his skin on fire. He felt floaty and heavy at once, nerves jumping under the fuzz of the alcohol like they’d just remembered how to feel.
It was a joke.
Probably.
But Eddie had said it so easily. He said it like it wasn’t wild, like it made sense.
Buck’s brain was no help at all, because instead of waving it off, it was busy fast-forwarding. He looked ahead to a year from now, to them still here on that damn couch. He saw them still doing this: grocery runs, movie nights, making breakfast for him and Chris. But then what? They’re just doing all of that while... married?
That was not how this was supposed to go.
He’d already had this conversation months ago. In fact, he had it twice.
The first time was with Tommy when Eddie was in Texas. He had the nerve to suggest that because Buck was living in Eddie’s house that it meant he was in love with him. It set something off in Buck. The suggestion had just cracked him open wide, and he slammed it shut without a second thought.
But then Maddie suggested it—his own sister. When Tommy suggested it, Buck didn’t put much stock in it, but this was someone who knew Buck better than he knew himself. After all, she was the one who raised him.
It wouldn’t be so crazy.
That was what she said—but it was crazy.
Eddie had always been his best friend, and Eddie was straight.
He just missed his best friend, that didn’t have to mean anything.
Except now Eddie was sitting there, inches away and casually proposing they get married if nobody else came along, and Buck couldn’t breathe. He just stared, willing for his face to not betray him and trying not to unravel completely on the couch.
“Official?” he echoed, head even fuzzier now.
Eddie’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, we could just get married, or something close enough to it. I mean, think about it. No more weird Tinder hookups or blind dates.”
Buck let out a strangled noise. “I—uh, wow.”
“I’m… I’m kidding,” Eddie said, but he wasn’t laughing.
Buck wasn’t either.
Something about the idea of Eddie—his Eddie—with someone else made his stomach twist. He didn’t want to picture it, but he couldn’t help it now. He felt sick at the idea of someone else sitting on their couch, in their house, with their legs tangled up in Eddie’s on movie night. He didn’t want anyone else knowing what kind of coffee Eddie made in the mornings, or how he liked his steak, or the shape of his smile.
That was his stuff.
Their stuff.
He didn’t have the right to feel territorial, he knew that. But the feeling bloomed anyway, hot and irrational in his chest.
The words hung there between them, glittering like the last of the fireworks outside, daring for the wind to sweep them away. And Buck, tipsy and exhausted, swallowed once before saying, “Okay.”
Eddie blinked. “Okay?”
Buck cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah. Sure, let’s do that. If both of us are still single… why not?”
He tried to sound casual, like his heart wasn’t trying to throw itself out of his chest and run laps around the living room. Eddie stared at him for a beat too long before nodding. “Alright, deal.”
And that was it.
Totally normal and completely sane. It just made sense, it was the rational thing to do.
Just two very drunk best friends, making a marriage pact at two-something in the morning, like it wasn’t the most life-altering thing Buck had ever said yes to in his life. Something about that made him smile, a little wild and unhinged.
“So… we’re engaged.”
Eddie barked out a laugh. “We are not engaged.”
“Engaged to be engaged—”
“—that isn’t a thing—”
“It is if I can find those plastic ring pops Chris got a few years ago,” Buck said, already digging through the drawer by the TV. He pulled them out finally, triumphantly holding up two slightly crushed ring pops in red and blue. His voice slurred slightly as he reminded him, “You already proposed.”
Eddie let out a laugh, holding out his hand as he accepted his fate.
And Buck, grinning like an idiot, handed him the red one.
●・○・●
Oh shit.
The thought landed before his eyes even opened.
His head was pounding. It wasn’t a sharp pain, more like a dull and echoing thud as if someone had crammed a drum kit into his skull and was going to town with no rhythm or remorse. His mouth tasted like pretzels.
The room was dim—thank god. The curtains were still drawn, hiding the quiet room from the piercing sunlight outside. The only sound filling the space was the sound of someone else breathing.
He cracked one eye open and saw Eddie sound asleep next to him, hair a mess with one arm slung toward Buck’s side, not quite touching but close enough to make his skin itch. Not because he minded, but because it made his heart race far too fast.
It wasn’t a surprise to find Eddie next to him. They’d been sharing a bed for a few weeks now—it wasn’t weird, not really. They had shared a bed for months during the pandemic when the team stayed at Buck’s place. Eddie had offered to share the bed after a few nights of Buck trying to prove the couch didn’t destroy his spine; he had insisted it was no big deal and that the bed was huge. He even said Buck could take the left like he always did, especially since Eddie liked the right side anyway.
It had become routine. It was practical.
Buck had been trying to find a new place for a few weeks now. He must have applied to a million apartments, but he got rejected from every single one. He had no clue what the issue was. Look, his credit score wasn’t great, but he didn’t think it was this bad. Eddie just shrugged every time he heard that Buck got another rejection, saying, Looks like you need to stay here a bit longer then. You can stay here as long as you want.
Like Buck had said, it was just practical.
But now… it felt different.
Buck shifted slightly and immediately regretted it as his stomach churned and flipped around. The inside of his skull buzzed, and he groaned under his breath, flopping back onto the pillow.
Please tell me that was a dream.
His fingers twitched against the sheet, and something cold and hard tapped against his knuckle.
He looked down.
The ring pop.
He stared at it, brain struggling to connect last night’s blur to this very real and very incriminating object now digging into the base of his finger.
Oh shit, that really did happen.
He and Eddie, last night on New Year’s Eve—two idiots drunk off their asses who thought it was a good idea to sappily talk about marriage—decided it was perfectly reasonable and logical to marry each other in a year’s time. Well, if they were both still single. At least they had terms to it.
God, they actually agreed to that.
A pact.
An actual, verbalized, fully fleshed marriage pact.
He groaned again, deeper this time as he dragged his hands over his face, flopping the ring pop directly into his own eye in the process.
What the hell did it mean? Was it a joke? What if Eddie remembered it and regretted it? Or worse, what if Eddie didn’t remember it at all? Would Buck be the only one holding onto this?
He rolled onto his side, careful not to jostle the mattress too much as he looked at Eddie again.
His person.
Don’t go there, Buck told himself, stomach doing another slow roll.
He squeezed his eyes shut and flopped back onto his pillow. This was fine. Everything was totally, completely fine. This was totally normal. The ring on his hand glinted in the morning light like it knew better.
Eddie stirred beside home with a groggy hum, stretching just enough to rustle the sheets.
Buck bolted upright like he’d been electrocuted—well, again.
“I’ll make breakfast!” he blurted, already halfway off the bed before Eddie had fully opened his eyes.
Eddie blinked up at him in a daze, his hair sticking up in five directions and his face creased from the pillow. His eyes were still half-shut, his voice hoarse with sleep as he asked, “You… what?”
“Breakfast!” Buck repeated, way too loudly. “Hangover food, I got it.”
He was moving before even realizing it, stumbling out of the bedroom and beelining towards the kitchen. He was like a man possessed, grabbing pans with way too much energy for someone who had downed an entire bottle of champagne the night before. His hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting, and every time he looked down, that stupid blue plastic ring on his finger mocked him.
“Buck,” Eddie’s voice drifted in, low and gravelly from sleep, “I got the coffee. And can you make some extra food? Chris will want some when he gets back from his friend’s.”
Chris.
Oh shit—Chris. What the hell would Chris think of this? The idea of him hearing they had made a marriage pact as a drunken New Year’s idea was… difficult.
He’d be fine with it, right? Buck told himself. But this felt different. Like the line they’d been toeing for years had finally been crossed, even if it was just a drunken blur. The two of them had always done things that normal friends didn’t do, or so Buck was told.
Buck, for one, thought it was all very normal.
He had never had a best friend before, and it felt right, so what about that would be strange?
He did wonder if Eddie remembered anything, but he had to because there was no way someone could say something like that and not remember. The floor creaked softly, and Buck felt Eddie’s presence before he turned around. He always filled the air with warmth, like the sun. Eddie padded into the kitchen with his hair still askew, letting out a yawn that Buck thought resembled a cat. He looked unfairly good for someone who had been equally hammered as he was last night. Buck’s breath caught as he stared at him. Eddie leaned against the counter in silence. He didn’t say anything at first, just shuffled in quietly.
Buck kept fussing with the eggs, pushing them around in the pan. His pulse thudded behind his ribs, uneven and anxious. He could feel Eddie standing there, close but hesitant, like he was waiting for something to settle. When Buck finally glanced up, Eddie was resting against the drawers, his arms crossed loosely over his chest like this was any other morning.
And then their eyes met.
Everything went still.
The kitchen sounds came to a halt, the hiss of oil and morning traffic outside melting under the weight of his gaze.
That was the thing with the two of them, they could always speak even in silence. There was a language between them that didn’t need translation. It was built over years of shared calls, late-night dinners, hospital rooms, and grocery runs. It was the kind of trust that was earned after almost losing it. They knew how to read each other’s silences. A glance could say a million words. A breath could provide a lifeline. They’d built a partnership without ever needing to define it.
And now, in this quiet morning, Buck felt that unspoken thread pulling tight again.
They didn’t say anything—didn’t need to.
Eddie’s mouth quirked, just a little. He gave him the kind of smile he didn’t give to just anyone. He raised an eyebrow at Buck, deciding that this was one of the times they did, in fact, need words.
“So… we really doing this?”
Buck’s throat went dry. He could’ve laughed it off, but instead, the words came out before he could stop them.
“Yeah, let’s do this.”
●・○・●
Everything was spinning around him.
It kept hitting him in spurts that he was technically engaged to Eddie. They agreed to tell the team, but Buck had no clue how they would react. The team was a family. They’ve had a way of doing things for years now. He knew this was gonna be a shock to the system, and he just hoped they’d be supportive of it eventually.
After Christopher’s reaction, Buck didn’t know what to expect when they told the others.
It had been right after breakfast yesterday, the morning light still slanting through the kitchen windows as they all sat around the table. Buck had put way too much vanilla in the pancakes, Eddie burned the bacon, and Chris had stepped into the house with a suspicious look on his face. Buck nearly dropped his mug when he heard Chris’ ride honk from the street.
“You guys are acting weird,” Chris said flatly, sliding into his chair slowly.
Buck glanced at Eddie, who just shrugged at him. “We might as well tell him now.”
“Tell me what?” Chris raised an eyebrow, all straight to the point and sleepy teen energy. He looked so much like Eddie at that moment, it was terrifying.
Buck cleared his throat. “So, uh… last night, your Dad and I—well, we made this sort of… pact.”
Chris stared.
“A marriage pact,” Eddie said, way too casually as he poured syrup over his already-too-sweet pancakes.
“A what?”
“You know,” Buck rushed in. “Just, like, if we’re both still not dating anybody in a year, we’ll get married. It’s not real—well, it is real, it’s sort of real, but not like that real—”
“He proposed with a ring pop,” Eddie said around a mouthful of bacon, like that clarified anything.
“Hey, you proposed!” Buck corrected. “I just got the rings.”
Chris blinked, and then he blinked again. “You guys are so weird.”
Eddie glanced at his son hesitantly, pausing slightly as he tried to find the words. “I just… are you okay with this, buddy? I don’t wanna do anything that’s gonna, you know, hurt you.”
“You aren’t,” Chris told him as he bit into a pancake. He turned to Buck, looking more stern than Buck had ever seen him before and said, “Just… if this does happen, I need you to promise to be good to my Dad.”
Buck blinked, taking a few seconds to process his words. “I–yeah, of course I will.”
“I mean it,” Chris pressed on, his head lowering a bit like he was embarrassed. Buck would’ve felt amused by how classic teenage boy it was if it weren’t for how serious Chris sounded in that moment. “I want… I want my Dad to be happy.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Buck saw Eddie’s face shift, something small and sharp, like he had been caught off guard. His mouth twisted as his eyes darted down to his plate, and then he lowered his head altogether. Without thinking, Buck pressed his knee gently into Eddie’s under the table, trying to tell him I’m here, you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel this. Eddie didn’t look up, but Buck felt the way his leg leaned into his.
“Chris,” Buck started seriously, leaning over and clapping his hand onto the boy’s shoulder to meet his gaze. “I promise you, if we do this, I will spend every day dedicated to making your Dad the happiest person on the planet, okay?”
Chris met his eyes, and for a second, he looked so much like Eddie that Buck nearly lost his train of thought. Then the boy shrugged, trying and failing to act like it wasn’t a big deal.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m good with it then.”
Buck exhaled.
Across the table, Eddie was staring at him.
His cheeks were red. His neck was red. The tips of his ears were red.
And Buck, for all his endless rambling, could only sit there and bask in the heat of that gaze. It was like Eddie was trying to memorize something and didn’t want to be caught doing it.
Neither of them said anything.
Chris reached for more syrup like nothing had happened.
Buck was sure that telling the others would go just as smoothly.
“You guys are doing what?”
Hen’s voice echoed throughout the firehouse. Buck and Eddie had just finished explaining it, explaining the plan simply like it was the most normal thing in the world. The room had gone dead silent for a beat before their shock cracked the tension like thunder.
Across the room, Chim had frozen mid-chew, and Ravi looked like he wasn’t sure if this was a joke or some sort of psychological experiment he’d accidentally become a part of. Eddie, of course, was sitting at the edge of the table with a certain gleam in his eyes, like he was incredibly proud of himself.
Buck didn’t turn from the stove, mostly because he was actively flipping over the chicken and pretending not to feel like he was about to spontaneously combust. Bobby was still staring at him with his mouth gaping open, like he was trying to process what Buck just told him. It was a look Buck was very familiar with, at this point.
“Getting married,” Chim said, his voice filled with amusement, eyes darting between Buck and Eddie. “Next New Years… if they’re both single… very normal thing to do.”
“It was a pact,” Buck clarified, whipping around with the tongs still in his hand. “Not a proposal.”
Hen raised an eyebrow. “You made a marriage pact… while drunk.”
“Very drunk,” Eddie added, completely unbothered, sipping his coffee like they weren’t in the middle of getting interrogated by their coworkers.
Across the table, Ravi looked genuinely concerned. “Is that a real thing people do?”
“It is not,” Bobby said, stepping toward the stove to toss some more seasoning on the chicken. “It’s something people say in college and then forget about.”
Buck pointed the tongs at him. “See, that’s what I said!”
“You did not say that,” Eddie muttered into his mug. “You were the one to get us rings.”
“There are rings?” Chim repeated incredulously.
Eddie shrugged. “Ring pops.”
“Well, actually, speaking of rings—” Buck started before getting cut off.
“This is actually kind of on brand for you two,” Hen chimed in, looking off to the side in thought. “Part of me is surprised you didn’t do this earlier, or something equally crazy.”
“Well,” Buck said with a wince, realizing this never came up before, “does being put in his will count as equally crazy?”
Bobby turned his head towards Eddie. “Wait, what—”
“Hey, is Chris on board for this?” Ravi asked, eyes narrowed curiously.
“Yep,” Buck insisted. “Told me to treat Eddie well and everything.”
Chim blinked. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Eddie bragged fondly. “Called him out hard.”
Hen leaned back in her chair, as she looked over at Eddie. “And you? You’re just… cool with this?”
Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, why not?”
“Right,” Hen said, narrowing her eyes at him calculatingly.
Buck suddenly remembered the items sitting in his pocket that he had started to mention a few seconds earlier. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on a towel, reaching into his pant pocket. The tips of his finger gaze across the slick metal bands, fumbling them out into his palm.
He ordered them as a joke, okay?
Well, sort of…kind of… not really.
They weren’t, like, real engagement rings—just titanium bands he found on sale at three in the morning and some silicone bands they could wear on calls.
Buck held them up between his fingers, beaming at Eddie as their coworkers gaped at him. Eddie looked him over, eyebrows lifting in surprise. He stood up from his seat, waltzing over to Buck casually. “Really?”
Shrugging, Buck aimed for nonchalant but landed somewhere around a nervous prom date. “I mean… figured we should at least look engaged. You know, for the bit.”
“For the bit,” Eddie parroted, but his voice was soft, a bit amused.
He reached for one of the rings before Buck could change his mind, plucking one of the bands from his fingers and turning it over in the light. Buck watched his face change, mesmerized by how his entire body softened.
Eddie smiled, his eyes fond.
And then, without ceremony—well, for now, at least—Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger, like it belonged there.
Buck’s heart immediately forgot how to function.
Eddie looked up. “Aren’t you putting yours on?”
Blinking, Buck croaked out, “What?”
“Your ring,” Eddie said. “I’m not wearing mine alone. That’s not how engagements work, man.”
“I thought we weren’t engaged,” Buck pointed out simply, his brain feeling a bit fuzzy.
“Engaged to be engaged,” Eddie mused, echoing Buck’s words from that night.
Buck nodded rapidly in agreement as he fumbled with the second ring, nearly dropping it and cursing under his breath. His hands were shaking, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Oh my god,” Hen muttered from somewhere behind them. “They’re actually doing this.”
Chim whistled low. “Didn’t think this would turn into an engagement party, but okay.”
Bobby said nothing, just staring at the two of them in complete and utter awe.
Buck’s ears were flaming as he finally got the ring onto his own finger. Eddie just grinned and bumped their shoulders together like this was the most normal thing in the world, and maybe it was.
This was fine.
This was gonna be fine.
The rest of the shift moved quickly, in the way busy days always did, with one call after another. The city pulled them from street corners to high-rises, even to the edges of quiet neighborhoods. There was a minor car accident on the freeway that required more traffic cones than usual, a kitchen fire that turned out to be a scorched oven mitt and a panicked teenage babysitter. There was a wellness check where they ended up coaxing a very old, and very angry parrot off a ceiling fan.
They were the kind of calls that filled a day without leaving much behind. There was no trauma, no adrenaline crashes, just familiar and routine work. It was enough to keep Buck moving and keep his hands busy while his mind continued to drift to the ring on his finger. They didn’t talk about it, not yet. They just let it hang there between them like everything else they had never said.
There was something oddly comforting about the weight of the ring on his finger. It felt like belonging. It was a promise, even if it was a ridiculous and extremely drunken one that didn’t mean anything. Out on calls, the slight pressure of it beneath his glove felt steadying somehow, like he wasn’t just floating through the world alone, like someone was waiting for him on the other side.
Now, as the sun started to dip low on the horizon, casting long amber shadows across the sidewalk, Buck and Eddie walked side by side back toward the engine after clearing their last call. A false alarm at a corner bodega had set off the smoke detector from some burnt popcorn. It was easy, a nice way to end the day. Their boots echoed in step, the late-day breeze tugging softly at their jackets.
For a moment, it felt like things were settling down. He glanced sideways at Eddie, about to make some joke about the popcorn call, but then Eddie’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out without breaking stride, thumb moving across the screen. He smiled—just barely—but enough for Buck to notice.
Buck squinted. “Chris?”
“No,” Eddie said, slipping the phone back into his jacket. “It’s about my date later.”
Buck missed a step—literally. His foot hit the pavement half a beat too late, like his body lagged behind his brain. “...Wait, what?”
“I’ve got a date tonight,” Eddie said casually. “Someone I talked to for a bit last week. We’re grabbing dinner.”
And just like that, Buck felt it. The ring on his finger, once comforting and steady, suddenly turned cold and heavy. The realization of the situation settled over him slowly, but it hit all at once: this wasn’t real.
This wasn’t happening. It was just a pact. This was a break-glass-in-case-of-emergency situation. It was a maybe, a someday, a placeholder.
And Eddie wasn’t waiting around.
Why would he? After all, they had agreed to find someone, to live their lives… and if they were still single, then maybe.
But now hearing the casual mention of a date, of someone else who wasn’t him, hanging out with Eddie… it made something inside of Buck twist. A hollowness opened up beneath his bones. It clawed through his chest like panic, but quieter. He couldn’t name it, he didn’t dare to. It felt too much like jealousy—too much like heartbreak.
It felt too much like wanting something he hadn’t realized he already believed was his.
And the worst part was that Eddie hadn’t even done anything wrong.
This was what they both agreed to.
“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile that felt all wrong on his face. “Nice, that’s… nice.”
He sounded unconvincing even to himself.
Eddie glanced at him sideways, eyes scanning him as if to find out what was wrong. But neither of them said anything else, they just kept walking. Buck stared ahead, blinking harder than necessary at the firetruck waiting for them. His face felt hot, his chest tight.
What did you think this was? a voice in his head asked, sharper than he liked.
He didn’t have an answer.
Maybe he hadn’t realized how much he wanted it until the idea of someone else getting there first left him gutted. His hand drifted to the ring again, fingers brushing the silicone slightly almost subconsciously, like he was checking to see if it was still there, if it was still his.
But it didn’t have any meaning. It just sat there, dull and silent against his skin.
It was just a stupid ring.
And suddenly, that felt like the cruelest thing of all.
He didn’t know what all of this meant. He didn’t know why his chest had gone all tight or why the idea of Eddie sitting across from someone else made his stomach churn.
But he knew one thing: he wasn’t just going to sit and smile through it.
Not when it felt like something was shifting beneath his feet or when everything that had felt warm and steady just an hour ago felt fragile in his hands. He kept his eyes ahead, legs still moving in rhythm with Eddie beside him
He didn’t know what it meant, but as they climbed into the truck, that ache in his chest didn’t fade. It sharpened and settled deep beneath the surface.
He wasn’t ready to give this up, not yet, not to someone else.
All he wanted was to have Eddie for himself.
And Buck… well, he didn’t know what to do with that.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●
Eddie knew it was a crazy idea, alright?
He woke up that morning after New Year’s with a dry mouth, a dull headache, and Buck shooting up out of bed like he got burned. For a moment, Eddie just laid there, eyes open and thinking about how they got there.
A marriage pact.
A real one. Well, as real as one could be with ring pops.
If anyone else had told him that they’d both drunkenly agree to marry their best friend in a year if they were both still single, he would’ve said they needed sleep, or therapy, probably both. But it was different with Buck. It always had been.
When Buck got them the actual rings, Eddie could’ve laughed it off—he probably should’ve—but he didn’t. Instead, Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger when Buck held it out. It hadn’t felt like a joke, not really. There was something about the weight of it that settled in him like warmth. It almost felt like want.
He didn’t make a habit of letting himself want things. Wanting led to needing, and needing led to disappointment. He knew that too well; he lived it a million times over.
But he kept the ring on, and it didn’t feel out of place for even a second. It felt like it belonged there. Occasionally, his fingers would drift toward it and trace the edge without thinking. He thumbed at the metal, gentle and grounding.
He didn’t overanalyze it, but he felt it—something had shifted, not just between them, but in him.
It was easier not to name it.
But he could feel how it curled under his skin, pressing a little harder every time Buck smiled at him from across the room. Whatever this was, it didn’t come with instructions, and over time Eddie had figured out that letting himself feel too much and acting on that usually ended in pain. He had learned that the hard way.
He had chased what scared him before. He had made choices on instinct and followed his gut straight into grief. He hated how easily things slipped through his fingers, how fast people could disappear, and how even the good things didn’t always stay.
That was a lesson he learned several times over now.
When the lab explosion happened, Eddie wasn’t there. He wasn’t even in California. He had been in Texas, moving there to reunite and fix things with Christopher. Leaving the team and life he had built there wasn’t easy—it was a feeling he hadn’t experienced before, and he never wanted to feel it again.
He and Buck talked nearly every single day; it didn’t feel right to not talk to him, even from hundreds of miles away. He spoke to the rest of the team as well, texting them throughout the day about various things. Even though he left, it didn’t change the fact that the team was still his family, and they always would be.
And then the call came through.
It was a blur, if he was being honest.
Everything after he heard the words “there’s been an accident” sounded like it was underwater. But the bottom line of the call was that the team almost died.
The team almost died… and he wasn’t there. He had been hundreds of miles away, safe and oblivious, while they were fighting for air.
It hit him like a brick after that. That if he’d been there, maybe something would have gone differently. Maybe the weight wouldn’t have fallen on Buck’s shoulders to be the only one not inside. Maybe, if he hadn’t left, the team wouldn’t have needed to claw their way back from the edge without him.
The guilt stayed.
It always stayed.
Nothing else stayed, but that did.
And Eddie was so fucking tired of that feeling.
Coming back hadn’t gotten rid of it, but it had forced him to face everything else he’d been avoiding. California hadn’t changed, but Eddie did. He walked back into the firehouse and into his own life and felt a truth pressing against him, unrelenting and undeniable. It was something that gnawed at him for years, but he didn’t understand the feeling, he couldn’t name it.
Until one day, he finally did.
It had been a warm night, windows open in the kitchen with the low hum of the neighborhood outside. Chris had been working on homework, pencil in hand, as he scribbled away. Eddie sat down across from him, heart pounding and palms sweating.
“Hey, bud,” Eddie said, leaning against the doorway. “Can we talk for a sec?”
Chris looked up at him. “Yeah, you okay, Dad?”
Eddie crossed the room slowly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck. He sat down next to him and inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… been thinking a lot lately. You know, about us, about how much has changed over the years. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes—”
“You don’t have to do this, Dad,” Chris interrupted gently, setting his pencil down. “Everyone makes mistakes. I don’t… I don’t want you to think about that anymore. I just want you to be happy.”
The words landed so softly it almost hurt. Eddie felt an overwhelming, bone-deep rush of love bloom in his chest. It was more than just pride or gratitude; it was the staggering realization of just how good his son was. Eddie loved him so much in that moment, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. It was a nice reminder that under that teenage huff and eye-rolling, Chris was still the same kid who used to climb into Eddie’s lap without hesitation. He was still the same kid who looked at Eddie like he could keep the whole world from falling apart. It was nice to know that part of him hadn’t gone anywhere.
Eddie let out a gentle laugh, almost like a huff, as he smiled at his son and placed a hand on the side of his face fondly. “No, I know, but this isn’t me beating myself up. I just… I’m building to something, and I need you to hear me out, okay?”
Chris nodded and waited, folding his hands on the table.
“A lot has happened since you were little. Some of it good, some of it… not so good. And through all of it, I told myself I needed to be this… perfect version of a Dad for you. I had to be this guy who never messed up. But I’m realizing that’s not a good example to set, because people mess up. And I’m realizing that kind of thinking made me hide things from you, and from myself.”
Chris’ brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
“I spent a lot of years shutting parts of myself away because I thought it would make life… easier. I thought if I stuck to what was safe, then I wouldn’t lose anymore. And we—we’ve lost a lot. But I don’t wanna live like that anymore,” Eddie said quietly. “And I don’t want you to ever think you have to live like that, either.”
There was a long pause before Eddie took a breath and let the words out, steady but low. “Pretty recently, I realized something about myself. And when we came back here, I told you no more secrets.” He swallowed, mustering up the courage to say the words for the first time out loud. “So, I wanted to tell you… I’m gay.”
The silence stretched, heavy in the small kitchen as Eddie’s heart thudded in his chest.
And then Chris stood up.
He didn’t say anything at first, walking around the table and coming to stand in front of Eddie. He placed his hands on the side of Eddie’s face, mimicking the motion that Eddie had done to him a thousand times over, and something inside his chest cracked wide open. Christopher held his face as he said, “I love you, Dad.”
Then, he wrapped his arms around him, tucking himself in against Eddie’s chest like he used to when he was younger. Eddie’s breath caught hard, eyes squeezing shut as his arms came up to hold his son. He pressed his face into Chris’ hair, fighting the emotions swelling thick in his throat. He twisted his lips slightly, trying to hold it together.
But then he remembered what he just preached to his son, and he let some tears fall.
It was okay to feel this, he reminded himself.
“I love you too, Chris… so, so much.”
Chris just held on tighter.
It didn’t erase the years he’d spent locking doors inside himself. It didn’t undo the guilt he held onto like a second skin, but it gave him a way forward. For the first time in a long time, he’d said something out loud that scared him and found it met with nothing but love.
Maybe that was why he kept his life contained to things he could name. He’d chased things that were uncertain, and it had cost him pieces of himself he still couldn’t get back. Now, he did what made sense, and he stuck to what he could hold.
And the pact—as ridiculous as it was—felt like something he could hold. It wasn’t wild or uncertain; it was spoken out loud and agreed upon. It was something they both chose together, and Eddie didn’t have to question if he’d read it wrong.
So, he stuck to the plan.
He kept the ring on. He lived his life. He said yes when someone asked him to dinner, because that was something people did when they were trying to move forward and when they were technically still single.
They weren’t married—not really. Well, not yet. Maybe not ever.
They had a year.
They had an agreement.
And so, Eddie went by the terms of that agreement.
When that text came through during their shift, Eddie hadn’t expected it to strike a nerve; he didn’t even expect Buck to ask about it, but he had. When Eddie told him, the silence that followed was different than their usual kind. It wasn’t comfortable, it wasn’t easy, and it didn’t sit right in his chest. Though he couldn’t explain why.
But he didn’t call it out. Instead, he just went on the date.
He got dressed up, showed up on time, and even ran a hand through his hair in the car mirror before heading inside. He told himself he was being open-minded, that this was just one evening with a decent guy who seemed kind and normal.
And he tried, okay?
It was his first date ever with a guy, after all. He wanted to give it his everything.
The guy was perfect on paper. He was handsome, polite, and had a job that Eddie was actually interested in hearing about. He even paid for the date, which Eddie had never experienced before. It felt nice.
There was just… one problem.
“I love animals,” the guy boasted.
No, Buck loves animals.
“I’ve gotten really into baking this last year.”
No, Buck got really into baking this last year.
“I really like barbecue.”
No, Buck really likes barbecue.
The poor guy couldn’t get two words in before Eddie felt a protective flash go through him—those were Buck’s things. It felt like this man was trespassing without realizing it. Every sentence landed just a little too close to home. He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew the guy across from him had no idea he was walking directly into a mental minefield. He was just trying to be interesting and build a connection.
But all Eddie could think about was how none of it felt right: not the conversation, not the way he smiled, not the way Eddie’s hands stayed folded in his lap the entire time, fingers twitching for a ring that he took off hours before.
But he had to try, right?
That was the agreement.
If they were still single in a year, they’d figure it out. But until then, they were supposed to look and see if something else fit.
He just hadn’t expected it to feel so wrong so fast.
He didn’t tell Buck that the date was with a guy. In fact, he didn’t tell anybody the date was with a guy. When Eddie got back to their house that night, he shot a quick text to his date saying it wasn’t going to work, walked inside, and just shook his head at Buck’s wordless inquiry. He pretended not to notice how Buck fought a grin.
That was a month ago.
Now, he was standing in the middle of the firehouse, drowning in cheap red tinsel.
Hearts were taped all over the lockers. There were glittery “Be Mine” signs stuck with half-used painter’s tape to every surface Hen could reach. Ravi and Chim were hanging dangling hearts across the common room. Even Bobby had been roped into helping, standing on a step stool to hang pink streamers from the ceiling.
The warm smell of sugar hit him the second he walked out of the bunks. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and slowed, brow furrowing as he took in the scene. Buck stood at the stove, sleeves rolled up with pink frosting smudged on his wrist; he was focused, tongue poking out between his teeth as he iced a heart-shaped cookie with ridiculous precision. Beside him sat two neatly arranged tins of baked goods. There were red velvet cupcakes, sugar cookies in the shape of hearts, and even chocolate-covered strawberries.
A separate tin sat off to the side, filled with various sweets that Eddie happened to love. He narrowed his eyes, noticing his name was written on it. They were for him.
Wait, did Buck make those all for him?
He blinked at Buck. “You’re baking?”
Buck looked up, his eyes bright. “You like sweets.”
Eddie opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was suddenly too aware of the heat behind his eyes. “You made all of this for me?”
“Well, I mean…” Buck started, scratching the back of his neck, dusting flour into his hair. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Hen made her way towards them, catching sight of the heart-shaped cookies and the tin with Eddie’s name on it, stopping dead in her tracks. Her words came slowly, asking, “Okay, so, we’re just… we’re just doing this now?”
Chim came over next, craning over her shoulder. “What is this, like… gourmet Valentine’s Day prep?”
Buck glanced over at them and shrugged like it was no big deal, but Eddie didn’t miss the way he shifted under their gaze. “Just figured it'd be nice.”
“For Eddie?” Hen asked as she raised an eyebrow, then immediately turned towards Eddie. “It’s for you, right?”
“I left some for you guys!” Buck cried out, gesturing to the small plate in the corner.
“Oh, thanks,” Ravi chimed in sarcastically.
Eddie didn’t answer; he just stared at the tin, his name written in big, confident letters, like Buck didn’t even think twice about it. Chim let out a snort. “You know what? You deserve it. You were the only one to like his baking when it was barely edible anyway.”
Looking up, Eddie asked, “Wait, you didn’t like his baking?”
“Dude,” Chim barked out with a laugh, “a few months ago, he baked this loaf after the breakup, right? I took one bite and thought I was being punked.”
Eddie blinked again. “They were good.”
There was a beat of silence. Hen gave Chim a long-suffering look like she was ready to smack him with a baking sheet, while Buck went very still across the kitchen. Eddie didn’t even notice them, he was too busy staring at the tin again.
He remembered all the stuff Buck had baked a few months ago. He went on a huge kick after Tommy broke up with him. It slowed down a bit, but he still usually had some sort of pastry in the house. He would spend hours fussing over some new recipe, muttering about measurements. Eddie was usually the first to try them now, and he always noticed how Buck would shrug off the compliments, despite the smile tugging at his lips.
He saw how happy it made Buck, and Eddie just liked making Buck happy.
And he liked sweets.
“I liked those loaves,” he insisted, firmer now, feeling unreasonably annoyed with the others.
“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” Hen told him pointedly. “He saved his best for you.”
Eddie glanced up, brow furrowed. “He made them for everyone.”
“Sure he did,” Hen said with a smile. She didn’t push it, she just walked off to help Ravi tape more hearts onto the kitchen window.
Looking back down at the array of pastries, he let the fact that Buck had done all of this for him settle over him. He did it just because he knew Eddie liked sweets, even if he never said it out loud. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed it before—the way Buck always went out of his way for him. He’d carry two coffees without being asked, pack Eddie’s favorite granola bars for shifts, pick up Chris from school when Eddie was already running around. Buck just… did things. He took care of things—took care of him.
And Eddie liked it; that was the strangest part.
He didn’t think he’d ever crave something like that. He never had wanted someone fussing over him after everything. After spending so much time doing things alone, he convinced himself that he had to do things that way, that it was safer. But Buck didn’t ask for permission, he just showed up and stayed. It was like he belonged in the spaces that Eddie never knew he was allowed to have for himself.
Eddie let out a breath, pulling his thoughts together.
“Thanks for this,” he said finally, voice quieter than it had been all morning. “Really.”
Buck turned at the sound, flour still on his shirt and sugar dusted into the curve of his neck. His eyes met Eddie’s and softened in a way that made something tighten in Eddie’s chest. He gave a gentle smile as he said, “You’re welcome.”
Eddie held his gaze longer than he meant to.
It was stupid, really, how easily he could get lost in the details, but Buck just had something about him. There was something about the way Buck’s lashes caught the light, how his cheeks got flushed from hovering over the oven for too long, the way his birthmark got redder the more his face flushed. He looked so—
Buck’s phone buzzed.
The moment shattered.
Eddie glanced down at the phone just as Buck picked it up, catching a glimpse of the screen.
Tinder.
Lifting his eyebrows, he asked, “Wait, why are you on Tinder?”
Buck shrugged like it was nothing. “Just… checking what’s out there.”
“Oh god,” Chim barked out, laughing heartily from across the room. “I remember your Tinder days, man. Firehose making a comeback?”
Eddie blinked. “Firehose?”
Hen nearly dropped her mug from laughing. “That was Buck’s nickname back in the day. He went on, like, seven dates in a week once.”
“Hey, that’s an exaggeration,” Buck argued, though his face was still flushed.
“Is it?” Bobby chimed in, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s been a while, okay?” Buck said defensively. “I’ve been out of the game.”
“Then why get the app again at all?” Eddie asked, meaning to sound casual as he asked. Really, he tried; but something sharp crept into his voice, something that gave him away more than he wanted. He could feel the others staring at him.
Buck didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t know, just thought it was time, you know?”
“I—” Eddie started before cutting himself off. He wanted to say, No, I don’t know, but stopped himself. He then gestured to the trays of pastries again, asking, “Wait, so are these for your date later?”
Buck’s head snapped up. “What? No! They’re for you, man. You like sweets!”
“What if your date likes sweets?” Eddie asked, jaw tight.
“I’m not gonna—” Buck started before cutting himself off, shaking his head. “It’s just a hookup! I don’t think it’ll come up. I baked these for you.”
Warmth rose in Eddie’s chest, curling slowly like the steam off the stove. Buck baked for him, not this random person from the app. Maybe Eddie shouldn’t care that much about cookies and cupcakes, but Buck had remembered his favorites, and no one had done that before.
“...Right,” Eddie muttered, huffing out once. “Thanks.”
Buck’s lips twitched into a smile again as he nodded once, and Eddie found himself caught in the weight of it, looking back down before he could say anything else.
“Hey,” Buck added casually, wiping a smudge of flour from his forearm. “I put in an application for another place this morning. So, uh, you might get a call. You know, landlord referral and all.”
Eddie inhaled, the words landing heavier than they should’ve. When he finally spoke, the words came slower than he meant them to: “Yeah, right.”
Buck didn’t seem to notice, already grabbing something from the counter and humming softly under his breath like it was nothing. But Eddie’s stomach pulled tight. It wasn’t the first time Buck had mentioned an application, and it wasn’t the first time Eddie had nodded and smiled as some sort of supportive response.
He told himself he’d take the call like he always did.
He’d say all the right things he needed to say.
Whatever happened after that… well, that wasn’t really up to him.
But the knot in his chest didn’t loosen.
Not even a little.
In fact, the knot didn’t loosen for the rest of the day.
It lingered even hours later, only tightening as he stared at the front door for what felt like ages.
He moved around, sure. The dishes in the sink had to be cleaned, the laundry had to be put away, he even tried scrolling through his phone to take his mind off everything. But no matter what he did, his eyes found their way back to the door, waiting for Buck to walk through it.
It wasn’t as Buck had been out for ages, it wasn’t even that late, but knowing where he was… the knowledge of it made something in Eddie’s chest coil. He tried to tell himself to forget about it—they had a pact, not a claim. Buck was free to do whatever he wanted. Eddie had been the one to go on a date first, after all. He was the one who suggested seeing what was out there during this next year. Buck was just following through on what they both agreed to.
But something about it felt wrong.
He leaned back into the couch cushions with his arms crossed tight over his chest. The television murmured in the background, some sports game on that Eddie couldn’t bring himself to care about right now. The sound of Chris’ video games filled the air from his bedroom, his son’s muffled discussions with his friends blending in. His eyes flickered over to the kitchen, the pastries that Buck had made still sitting on the counter, scattered across the platter. The house just felt different without Buck in it.
He could practically see the date playing on the screen in front of him. A pit formed in his stomach as he imagined Buck smiling across from someone else, laughing at their jokes and leaning in close. He couldn’t name the feeling flashing through him, and he tried to convince himself it was just normal curiosity, but the thought wouldn’t leave him alone. He sighed, dragging a hand over his face before glancing at the door again. Buck would walk through it eventually, and Eddie just wished he didn’t care so much about how long it took.
Glancing at his phone again, the tracking app caught his eye. As he clicked on it, he told himself it was perfectly normal to make sure a friend was safe on a date. He was just checking to see if Buck was in a ditch or something, that was all. The little map popped up, and Buck’s location showed him across town at some apartment complex. A dull throb started at the base of Eddie’s skull.
He needed to get out of his head.
Maybe a run would help. Maybe all he needed was to get some air moving through his lungs and shake the tightness from his chest. For a brief, ridiculous second, he considered running to the apartment complex himself, but he quickly got rid of the thought. On his way to Chris’ room, he grabbed his keys and patted his pocket for his AirPods, only to come up empty. He turned to the coffee table, the counter, the little bowl by the door—nothing.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed slightly, opening his phone again to the Find My app for the second time that night. As soon as he opened the map, he saw them, a bright little beacon sitting right alongside Buck’s location across the city.
Of course.
A low laugh escaped him, less amused and more in disbelief. Buck must’ve grabbed them by accident. There was something about the fact that they were there, with him, on his date, that landed heavier than it should’ve.
It was stupid, and he knew that. They were just AirPods. He could easily find Buck’s and just use his, but the thought hit him all the same. He didn’t have his AirPods, and he didn’t have Buck.
His thumb hovered over the “Play Sound” button.
Was he really about to do this? It felt ridiculous and petty as hell, but the idea of just sitting here while that little dot stayed in one place was eating at him. He told himself it was just about the AirPods and wanting to go on his run, but the truth was tangled up with something tighter in his chest.
He pressed it once.
The faint satisfaction of knowing Buck’s pocket was chirping across the city lasted about thirty seconds before it curdled into something restless. He gave it a few minutes, but the dot didn’t move.
He pressed it again.
Still nothing.
His mind spiraled quickly. He could see the scene like he was watching from the doorway. He could see Buck tangled up with his date on the couch, knees pressed between theirs—the spot where Eddie always put his knee. He could see Buck’s hands sliding over bare skin like he couldn’t get enough. Hungry lips dragging slow over a throat, his breath coming quick against their skin.
He pictured Buck’s shirt shoved halfway up, exposing the warm planes of his stomach and the flex of muscle under someone else’s hands. The little breathless noises he’d make when their mouths met again, deeper, with no space left between them. Eddie could see Buck’s head tip back, mouth parted, and eyes blown wide as fingers gripped his hips and pulled him closer.
The heat pooled low in Eddie’s gut, and he hated the way it felt like his chest was caving in. It wasn’t just the image, it was that someone else was there to touch Buck like that, to pull those noises out of him, to feel the weight of him pressed close.
His thumb jabbed the button again, harder this time, like pressing it with enough intent would make Buck hear it over the noise of the person above him.
His phone buzzed, pulling him out of the rhythmic tapping of the Play Sound button.
Buck: Hey, you good?
Eddie’s finger tightened around the phone before he typed back.
Eddie: You stole my airpods.
A pause.
It wasn’t more than a few seconds, but it was long enough that Eddie felt it. He stared at the screen, eyes locked onto the little “delivered” below the text while the blue dot on the map didn’t move. His mind filled the gap with something he didn’t wanna see: Buck leaning back against someone’s couch, phone in his hand but attention elsewhere, head tipped toward his date’s mouth.
Buck: Lol, pretty sure I grabbed mine man
Eddie: No, they’re mine. I checked. You have them.
There was another pause, but this one was longer. The dots blinked, then disappeared. They came back, and then disappeared again. Eddie could practically see it in front of him. He could see Buck starting to type before his date pulled his gaze away, a hand on the arm and leaning in to take his focus back.
Buck: Sorry, just use mine
Eddie scoffed under his breath, thumb moving before he could think.
Eddie: I can’t, I need mine
A minute stretched by, each second dragging and stretching his chest tight. He let out a huff of annoyance when he saw Buck’s dot not moving on the map, tapping the “Play Sound” button again. He imagined it cutting through the air where Buck was and couldn’t help but feel momentarily satisfied.
He wondered if Buck was just ignoring it now. Maybe his date moved closer. Maybe their hand was moving lower. Maybe their tongue was—
Eddie shook his head. He didn’t get why his stomach was twisting at the thought.
Two minutes went by, and there was nothing. Eddie’s thumb hovered over the keyboard, typing without thinking.
Eddie: Where are you?
Eddie knew where he was.
He hit send before he could stop himself.
No reply.
Something hot flashed through his chest, pressing the “Play Sound” button over and over again as if he could pull Buck’s attention through the phone. But the dot stayed where it was on the mat.
Another minute.
And then, finally, his phone buzzed again.
Buck: Do you really need them right now??
Eddie’s fingers curled into the edge of the couch cushion.
Eddie: Yeah, need you
—his thumb slipped.
His heart plummeted. Eyes bulging out from his head, Eddie sat up to the edge of the couch, mouth suddenly dry. He frantically held down on the message to edit it, heart pounding in his chest as he finished the text.
Eddie: Yeah, need you to bring them home
Hitting send once more, he let out a sigh of relief.
Crushed it.
He checked the app.
The dot was moving—finally.
Eddie’s eyes stayed glued to the map, tracking the slow crawl of Buck’s location like he could will it to speed up. It glided across the screen, sliding along the little grey streets, inching toward their block.
The pressure on his chest loosened just enough to let him breathe, though the air still felt thick. It was stupid—he knew it was stupid—but there was something undeniably satisfying about watching Buck come back for him.
He leaned back with his phone in his hand, his gaze locked on the screen like a hawk tracking prey. Every tiny jump forward made the corner of his mouth twitch. By the time the little circle turned into their driveway, Eddie’s knee was bouncing.
He set the phone down, only to pick it right back up and double-check that Buck really was home.
The front door opened.
Buck stepped inside, a little flushed still with his curls tousled, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if the picture in his head was a little more accurate than he had hoped it was. He held out the AirPods like they were a peace offering.
“Here,” Buck breathed out, his tone twinged just slightly with frustration. “Your precious AirPods.”
Eddie took them without hesitation, slipping them straight into his pocket.
Buck tilted his head, mouth gaping open slightly. “Uh… aren’t you gonna—”
“We’re watching a movie,” Eddie cut in, his tone steady but low, leaving no room for Buck to argue.
Buck blinked at him from the doorway, still holding his coat in one hand like he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to keep it on or not. “We are?”
The television flared to life, washing the room in flickering light. Eddie leaned back into the couch cushions, eyes on the screen but seeing none of it. “Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day. Gonna watch a romcom.”
For a moment, Eddie let himself glance sideways, just quick enough to take in some details he knew he shouldn’t be noticing. Buck’s curls were all over the place, a little damp at the end like someone’s fingers had been combed through them. His shirt sat slightly askew at the collar, one side stretched in a way that made it obvious it had been tugged. There was a faint flush across his cheeks, the kind that didn’t come from the cold. His breathing was still uneven, like he’d been in the middle of something and stopped abruptly.
And the thing was, Eddie knew he had been.
Buck had left that to come home… all because Eddie told him to.
The realization settled deep in his chest. He shouldn’t like it, but he did.
For a moment, Buck just stood there like he was trying to figure out if Eddie had genuinely just ordered him to come home and sit on the couch with him. Finally, he let out a short laugh under his breath and crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside him.
They practically sat on top of each other; it was a kind of closeness that came naturally to them now, shoulders pressed together like gravity had pulled them in. Eddie could feel the warmth radiating off him, could catch the faint trace of cologne still clinging to his skin.
Without thinking about it, Eddie just lifted his arm and let it rest across the back of the couch and around Buck’s shoulders.
Buck didn’t hesitate to lean into it, almost too easily.
He tucked himself into Eddie’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Eddie let him. He adjusted just enough to make it comfortable, breathing in the mix of Buck’s scent. The quiet around them softened, and Eddie could almost pretend this was normal for them.
Buck shifted once, turning further into Eddie and pressing his face into the curve of his chest and armpit, right against him. His nose brushed the fabric of Eddie’s shirt, dangerously close to the warm space beneath his arm. The sound of Buck inhaling filled the air, and Eddie noted how his eyes were almost shut. It was so casually intimate that Eddie had to fight to keep his breath steady. Something tight and restless moved under his skin, an ache he didn’t want to name. But he didn’t move away, he let Buck stay there and fold in close, and Eddie let himself feel the weight of it.
Eddie didn’t glance over or let Buck see the satisfaction on his face, but in the quiet between them, he let himself breathe.
And then Buck’s phone buzzed, and for a moment, Eddie wondered if he was gonna have to think of another excuse to keep him home from his date.
But then Buck said, “Goddamnit, I got rejected from another place.”
Eddie didn’t even try to stop the smile on his face this time.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●
Buck hated how quiet the house was without Eddie.
It was the wrong kind of quiet. He moved through the living room like a ghost, touching things just to feel them, trying anything to get his mind off of Eddie. The space was left with various items tossed to the side, the jacket Eddie opted not to wear thrown on the couch, the half-drunk coffee mug on the counter, the ring on the coffee table.
Everything looked like it was waiting for someone to come back, and Buck despised how it would stay that way for hours.
Eddie was on a date. Again.
The sentence has been rattling around his head since Eddie said it offhandedly this afternoon. He wouldn’t even say who it was with, just that it was someone he met on some app and how it was probably nothing. Buck had tried to keep it as light as he could. He teased Eddie about shaving and made a joke about ironing his shirt. But then Eddie left, wearing the good cologne—looking a little too good for it to be nothing—and Buck’s stomach had twisted.
That feeling never left.
Now, here he was, sitting on the couch and not watching the documentary that flickered in the corner, a half-empty beer bottle sweating on the table. His phone sat face up beside it, and he’d told himself he wouldn’t check it. He wasn’t gonna open that stupid app and track the date like Eddie did to him a month ago.
That night still lived somewhere in the back of his mind. He still pictured Eddie sitting at home, casually blowing up Buck’s phone like it was no big deal, insisting that he stole his AirPods. Buck was pretty sure Eddie had ulterior motives behind it. He pinged the notifications to Buck’s phone until he finally caved and came home. When he walked through the door, Eddie just told him they were gonna watch a movie, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Buck hadn’t even thought twice about it. He just handed over the AirPods and let himself get dragged into watching some movie he couldn’t even focus on. The warmth of Eddie pressed so close it made something in his head spin out.
The date that night had been nothing more than a distraction, something to fill the space. The guy was attractive, but Buck had felt out of place the entire time. Every smile and polite little laugh had just reminded him of what wasn’t there. It was really just meant to be a hookup—they had barely finished taking each other’s clothes off before Buck was glancing at his phone. It didn’t take much to have him out the door.
He hadn’t gone out again for a while after that. It wasn’t worth the effort when the truth was that no one came close.
And now, a month later, Eddie was the one out on a date.
He really did try to not check that location app. Except, well, he caved. It took all of thirty minutes before his thumb slid over the screen and the little blue dot appeared, growing steady and smug over some restaurant a few miles away. Buck just stared at it.
He told himself it was fine, that Eddie deserved this, that it was normal to want someone in his life. But the longer he stared, the harder it was to ignore the noise in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was actually going well. What if Eddie was leaning casually back into his chair, smiling that gentle smile that he usually reserved for Buck, and if someone else was the reason?
Buck’s fingers twitched, and he dropped the phone back on the table.
He paced, circling the coffee table a few times.
When did it start feeling like this? When had Eddie’s life become something that Buck wanted to be in the center of, all the time? He’d spent years being the one Eddie turned to and leaned on. Now, for the first time in a long time, Eddie was giving that attention to someone else. Even though it was just for a few hours, Buck hated it.
He ran a hand through his hair and dragged it down his face.
He could text him.
No, that was too obvious.
He could call him!
No, that was too desperate.
Instead, he sat back down and stared at the phone like it might bring Eddie home. The dot hadn’t moved. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad anymore.
The clock on the wall ticked, and the television droned on. Buck’s jaw tightened, the restless energy building in his chest until it was almost painful. He grabbed the phone again, thumb hovering over Eddie’s name. He could say something, mention something about Chris, or the laundry, or literally anything to make him come home.
He didn’t.
But the thought of doing nothing was worse.
The clock ticked so loudly that Buck swore it was screaming at him. The little blue dot hadn’t moved in half an hour. Eddie was still sitting there with someone else. Buck just… didn’t like it. He didn’t like Eddie out there, without him, while he was stuck here, without Eddie.
Buck slammed the phone down on the couch and stood, restless energy shaking through him. This was stupid, he had no reason to be feeling this way. They were friends, and friends should be supportive when other friends go on dates.
He stared at the phone. The phone stared back, screen lit with Eddie’s location. It mocked him.
Screw it.
He sat down, opened the call app, and dialed the three-digit number.
It barely rang once before a voice picked up.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
Buck cleared his throat, pitching his voice down a bit. “Yeah, hi, I’m near, uh, 462 South Melrose,” he said, eyes darting to the address on Eddie’s dot. “I’m smelling gas in the area, pretty strong, might wanna send someone.”
It was over in less than thirty seconds. He didn’t give his name.
When he hung up, the adrenaline hit him like a wave. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, and his fingers tingled a bit. Then he let out a laugh, the sound of someone who’d just done something completely ridiculous and gotten away with it.
He leaned back on the couch, stretching an arm along the backrest. The rush was intoxicating. The little blue dot on the map would move soon. Dinner over, the night cut short, and Eddie would come home—to Buck, where he would be waiting, like always.
And God, that felt good.
Too good.
A little warmth filled his chest. He pictured Eddie’s face when he walked back through the door, maybe a little irritated with the night ending there, but he would end it with Buck, and Eddie would feel better after that. It sent a sharp thrill through him that he didn’t know how to name.
Then it hit him.
Shit, what did I just do?
His smile slipped, and a pit formed in his stomach.
“Oh, crap,” Buck muttered, scratching at his jaw. He really called in a fake emergency just to get Eddie to come home from his date. It dawned on him that this wasn’t just petty, this was borderline criminal.
His phone buzzed, sharp enough to make him jump.
Buck snatched it off the couch, hopeful to see Edde’s name, but it wasn’t.
It was a text from Chim in the team group chat. A new photo glowed on the screen, Chim grinning ear-to-ear with an arm slung around someone standing next to him.
It was Eddie.
Buck’s breath caught before his brain even processed the text. Eddie was half-turned toward the camera, laughing at something another firefighter seemed to be saying, but his face was clear. His lips were pink from the cold, cheeks flushed, and hair a little tussled. There was just something about him in that photo… something so easy and alive that made Buck’s chest tighten.
He stared at it too long, taking in details he shouldn’t have been looking at: the way Eddie’s smile tilted just slightly, how his eyes looked bright even in the bad lighting. He was beautiful, so beautiful, and he wasn’t here. Buck felt that like a hit to the ribs.
Then his gaze dropped to the caption beneath the photo.
Chim: Some asshat called in a fake gas leak. Guess who I ran into.
Buck’s stomach flipped.
“Shit, shit,” he muttered, sitting forward on the couch.
Another buzz.
This text wasn’t in the group chat.
Eddie: You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?
Buck stared at the words, pulse jumping. His first instinct was to deny it, but something in Eddie’s tone, teasing even through text, made his fingers itch.
Buck: About what?
A pause.
The three dots blinked, disappeared for a few moments, and then came back.
Eddie: The evacuation, the flashing lights, my night suddenly ending before our food even hit the table
Buck bit his lip, grinning despite the fact that he sort of just committed a crime.
Buck: Wow, sounds rough. Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something
Eddie: Oh good, this again
Eddie: What’s it trying to tell me? That my best friend is a menace?
Buck: Maybe that your taste in restaurants is bad
Eddie: Interesting, cause the appetizers were great
There was a pause, dots blinking every few moments as Buck waited to see what Eddie was typing up.
Eddie: The company was too, until… you know
Buck: Shame, guess some people just can’t catch a break
Eddie: You’re enjoying this
Buck let his head fall back against the couch. He could almost hear Eddie saying it, dry and low with a smile hiding behind it.
Buck: Maybe a little
Eddie: Crazy how the one night I go out, this happens
Buck’s grin sharpened.
Buck: Yeah, I know the feeling. Trust me
Buck: Must be a coincidence. Almost like someone’s looking out for you
Eddie: Almost like someone’s keeping score, actually
Buck: Maybe. How’d your friend take it?
Eddie: My date? They left pretty soon after the evacuation
A weird protective feeling surged through Buck. Yeah, he might have cut the date short, but who in their right mind would leave Eddie? Who would let that stop the night? Buck felt pretty validated by this point. If this person was willing to leave Eddie just because of some measly fake gas leak, he wasn’t ready to take care of Eddie the way he deserved. That sort of thing would never stop Buck.
Buck: Her loss.
Eddie: What makes you so sure?
Buck: She let this cut the night short. That’s lame. You’re already coming home, aren’t you?
Eddie: You’ve been checking that app, huh?
Buck: No, just know you
Eddie: You’re ridiculous
Buck: And yet here you are texting me instead of her
A beat passed by.
Eddie: You really wanna play this game?
Buck swallowed, heat blazing through his chest. His fingers were already typing before he could think better of it.
Buck: With you? Always
Locking his phone, he sunk back into the couch with a grin on his face.
Let the games begin.