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The first time Eddie realizes this was a mistake is when Buck walks out in black turnout pants, suspenders hanging loose around his hips, hair still damp from the makeup artist spraying it down for the photoshoot.
The entire room goes silent.
Not metaphorically.
Actually silent.
Hen blinks slowly from where she’s leaning against the engine.
Chimney lowers the donut halfway to his mouth.
Even Bobby looks momentarily betrayed by the universe.
And Buck, oblivious as always, frowns.
“What?”
A photographer makes a strangled sound somewhere behind the camera.
Eddie feels something hot and unpleasant curl low in his stomach.
“Oh, this was a terrible idea,” Chim says immediately.
Buck snorts. “Relax. It’s literally just a charity calendar.”
“Yeah,” Hen mutters, staring openly. “For charity.”
The photographer recovers first. “Buckley, can you stand by the truck again?”
Buck shrugs and moves.
The suspenders shift against his t-shirt.
Eddie hates everyone in the room instantly.
He tells himself it’s annoyance. That’s all.
The whole thing had started two weeks ago when the LAFD announced some citywide fundraiser involving local firehouses. Something about rebuilding community centers after wildfire damage. Every station had to contribute.
Apparently the 118 had “strong visual appeal.”
Which was bullshit.
“Strong visual appeal?” Eddie had repeated flatly at briefing.
Hen had immediately pointed at Buck.
And honestly, yeah, okay.
That tracked.
But Eddie hadn’t expected this.
He definitely hadn’t expected the photographer to nearly fall over herself every time Buck smiled.
“Perfect,” she gushes now. “God, you photograph beautifully.”
Buck laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh. Thanks?”
And there it is.
That stupid laugh.
The one that makes Buck’s entire face light up.
The photographer visibly melts.
Eddie wants to go home.
“You’re glaring,” Ravi whispers beside him.
“I’m not.”
“You look like you want to kill her.”
Eddie crosses his arms tighter. “I just wanna get this over with.”
Ravi glances toward Buck, who’s now leaning against the engine while the photographer circles him like prey.
“Sure.”
Eddie ignores him.
He’s being ridiculous.
Buck’s his best friend.
Buck gets attention all the time.
This is normal.
Except.
Except usually Eddie can pretend the flirting doesn’t bother him because it’s fleeting. A waitress batting her eyelashes. Someone at the grocery store lingering too long. Casual.
Temporary.
This feels different.
The photographer touches Buck’s arm to reposition him and Eddie’s jaw clenches hard enough to hurt.
“Oh my god,” Chim whispers suddenly.
Eddie follows his gaze.
Buck’s pulling his t-shirt over his head.
Apparently this month is shirtless.
Fantastic.
The room erupts.
Not professionally.
Not subtly.
Just fully.
The makeup assistant actually says “holy shit” out loud.
Buck startles. “Jesus.”
Hen doubles over laughing.
And Eddie…
Eddie forgets how breathing works for a second.
Because he sees Buck all the time. He does. They work together. They train together. He’s seen Buck shirtless more times than he can count.
But this is different somehow.
The lights are warm against Buck’s skin. His hair is messy from fingers constantly pushing through it. His turnout pants ride low enough to reveal the sharp V of muscle disappearing beneath fabric.
And Buck smiles.
Bright and easy.
The photographer practically whimpers.
Eddie abruptly looks away.
“Oh, he’s doomed,” Ravi says softly.
“Who?” Eddie snaps.
“You.”
“I’m gonna kill you.”
“See?” Ravi says.
The next hour is torture.
Buck keeps laughing because he’s nervous, which only makes the photographer more obsessed.
“Can you lean forward a little?”
“Perfect.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Buckley, you’re a natural.”
Eddie genuinely considers walking directly into traffic.
Then the worst part happens.
Buck glances over toward the crew between shots, clearly looking for reassurance, and his eyes land on Eddie.
He grins immediately.
Like Eddie’s the person he wanted to find.
Like Eddie’s approval matters most.
The jealousy in Eddie’s chest twists sharply into something worse.
Something terrifyingly soft.
Buck jogs over during a break, grabbing a water bottle from the cooler.
“Please tell me I don’t look stupid.”
“You look stupid,” Chim says instantly.
Hen smacks him.
Buck rolls his eyes and looks at Eddie.
And there it is again.
That stupid thing where Buck looks for him first.
Always.
Eddie swallows hard.
“You look fine.”
Buck squints. “Why do you sound mad about it?”
“I’m not mad.”
“You’ve been glaring at everyone for an hour.”
“That’s just his face,” Hen says helpfully.
Buck studies him another second.
Then he smiles softly.
Small.
Fond.
Like he knows Eddie better than anyone.
Which he does.
The realization lands heavily in Eddie’s chest.
Buck trusts him.
Buck chooses him.
Buck comes home with him after shifts and falls asleep on his couch during movie nights with Christopher.
Buck knows how Eddie takes his coffee.
Buck remembers the exact anniversary of Shannon’s death without needing reminders.
Buck carries extra juice boxes because Christopher likes the apple kind better.
Buck belongs in their life so naturally that Eddie sometimes forgets he isn’t already theirs.
And maybe that’s the problem.
Because now everyone else is noticing Buck too.
Really noticing him.
The photographer waves from across the room. “Buckley! One more setup!”
Buck sighs dramatically. “Pray for me.”
Then he bumps his shoulder lightly against Eddie’s before jogging back.
The touch lasts maybe half a second.
It still burns afterward.
—
The calendar releases on a Thursday.
By Friday morning, the internet has lost its mind.
“It has eighty thousand likes,” Hen announces, walking into the loft kitchen with her phone raised.
Buck nearly chokes on cereal.
“What?”
“Correction,” Chim says, scrolling on his own phone. “The behind-the-scenes video has three hundred thousand.”
Buck looks horrified.
Eddie feels weirdly murderous.
Ravi is openly delighted. “Read the comments.”
“No,” Buck says immediately.
“Yes,” Hen counters.
She clears her throat dramatically.
“‘I would let this man ruin my life.’”
Buck groans loudly, covering his face.
Chimney cackles.
Hen keeps going.
“‘Respectfully, firefighter Buckley can climb through my window anytime.’”
“Hen.”
“‘Whoever this man is dating better appreciate him.’”
Eddie’s stomach drops unexpectedly.
He stares down into his coffee.
Buck laughs nervously. “People are insane.”
“Wait,” Ravi says. “This one’s my favorite.”
Absolutely not.
“‘How is he single? I could treat him better than whoever fumbled him.’”
Something ugly twists in Eddie’s chest.
Because that’s the thing.
They’re jokes.
They shouldn’t matter.
Except Eddie can’t stop hearing them.
Could treat him better.
As if Buck is something precious people deserve only if they’re good enough.
As if Eddie wouldn’t ruin him eventually.
Buck steals a piece of toast off Eddie’s plate.
“You okay?”
Eddie blinks up.
Buck’s looking at him with quiet concern already etched across his face.
Always noticing.
Always caring.
And Eddie suddenly feels exhausted.
“Fine,” he says shortly.
Buck’s smile falters a little.
Guilt hits immediately.
But before Eddie can fix it, Chim lets out a loud gasp.
“Oh no.”
Hen looks over his shoulder and starts screaming.
Buck points at them accusingly. “What now?”
Chim turns the phone around.
It’s a screenshot from the calendar shoot.
Buck shirtless against the fire engine, head tipped back slightly while laughing.
The caption reads:
LAFD’s hottest firefighter has officially entered the chat.
And beneath it?
Millions of views.
“Oh my god,” Buck whispers.
Ravi looks emotional. “You’re famous.”
“I’m deleting the internet.”
Hen grins wickedly. “Too late. You belong to the people now.”
Buck looks genuinely panicked.
And despite everything twisting inside Eddie’s chest, despite the jealousy and irritation and awful insecurity creeping under his skin…
He still steps closer automatically.
Buck notices immediately.
Always.
“You’re not allowed to laugh at me,” Buck says.
Eddie snorts softly. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Buck relaxes a little at that.
Just from that.
Like Eddie’s opinion still matters most.
And somehow that only makes everything worse.
By the end of the week, the problem becomes impossible to ignore.
Not for Buck.
Buck somehow remains completely oblivious.
For Eddie.
Because suddenly it’s everywhere.
At the grocery store:
“Wait, aren’t you calendar guy?”
At calls:
“My daughter follows you on TikTok!”
At the coffee shop:
“You should model professionally.”
And every single time, Buck reacts the same way:
awkward laugh, pink cheeks, immediate attempt to redirect attention somewhere else.
Usually toward Eddie.
Which should help.
It doesn’t.
Because people keep saying things.
Little things.
Thoughtless things.
And Eddie keeps hearing every single one.
—
“Okay, this one’s objectively your fault.”
Buck looks up from where he’s restocking medical supplies. “What did I do?”
Chim tosses his phone onto the table.
Buck catches it automatically.
Onscreen is a photo from yesterday’s rescue. Buck carrying a little girl away from a car accident while she clings to his neck.
The comments are unhinged.
“Firefighter Buckley can rescue me anytime.”
“Need him biblically.”
“His arms????”
“I know he smells amazing.”
Buck recoils in horror. “What is wrong with people?”
Hen is crying laughing beside Chim.
Ravi looks delighted. “Scroll further.”
“No.”
“Scroll.”
Buck reluctantly swipes.
Then freezes.
“Oh.”
Eddie shouldn’t ask.
He does anyway.
“What?”
Buck turns the screen around awkwardly.
It’s another comment.
“How does a guy like that stay single?”
“Seriously. Men like that don’t stay alone unless they’re waiting for someone specific.”
Something tight lodges in Eddie’s throat.
Because he knows it’s irrational.
But suddenly all he can think is:
Maybe Buck is waiting.
Maybe one day he’ll stop waiting.
Maybe eventually he’ll realize Eddie’s never going to be brave enough.
Buck tosses the phone away like it burned him. “People need hobbies.”
“You’re the hobby now,” Chim informs him.
“Kill me.”
Hen pats Buck’s shoulder. “Sorry, pretty boy.”
Buck flips her off automatically.
Eddie watches him laugh.
Watches the way sunlight from the loft windows catches against his skin.
Watches the way Buck’s t-shirt stretches across his shoulders when he reaches upward.
Watches Ravi stare for half a second too long before quickly looking away.
And suddenly Eddie feels furious again.
Not at Ravi.
At himself.
Because he doesn’t get to feel possessive over something that isn’t his.
Buck isn’t his.
No matter how much Eddie’s life has slowly shaped itself around him.
No matter that Christopher asks for Buck before anyone else when he’s hurt.
No matter that Buck has his own drawer in Eddie’s kitchen.
No matter that Buck fell asleep with his head in Eddie’s lap three nights ago during movie night.
That doesn’t mean anything.
People do that.
Friends do that.
Probably.
“Diaz?”
Eddie blinks.
Buck’s watching him carefully now.
“You with us?”
“Yeah.”
Buck frowns slightly. “You sure?”
The concern in his voice almost hurts.
Eddie forces a shrug. “Fine.”
Buck doesn’t look convinced.
Before he can ask more, Bobby walks in.
And immediately stops.
“What happened now?”
Hen grins. “Buck’s accidentally becoming an internet sex symbol.”
Bobby closes his eyes briefly like he’s praying for strength.
“I miss five minutes of silence.”
Buck points accusingly. “I didn’t do anything!”
“That’s the upsetting part,” Chim says.
Buck groans and drops his forehead against the table.
Eddie has to physically look away.
Because Buck’s hair is falling into his eyes and his mouth is slightly pouty from annoyance and Eddie’s apparently pathetic enough that even that does something to him now.
God.
He’s so screwed.
—
The gala invitation arrives the following Tuesday.
“Absolutely not,” Buck says immediately.
Hen snatches the envelope from his hands.
“Oh my god, yes.”
“It’s for the charity campaign,” Buck protests. “Why would they invite me?”
The entire loft goes silent.
Then Ravi actually laughs out loud.
Buck looks offended. “Wow. Okay.”
Chim grabs the invitation next.
“Formal attire required,” he reads dramatically. “Buckley in a suit? Eddie might actually die.”
Eddie chokes on air.
Buck turns immediately. “What?”
“Nothing,” Eddie says way too fast.
Hen’s eyes narrow instantly.
“Oh, interesting.”
“No,” Eddie says flatly.
“No what?” Chim asks innocently.
Buck looks between them, confused. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing,” Eddie repeats.
Buck keeps staring.
And Eddie hates that Buck can probably tell something’s off already.
Because Buck always notices.
Always.
The invitation gets shoved into Buck’s locker eventually, but the damage is done.
Because now Eddie can picture it.
Buck in a fitted suit.
Hair styled properly.
That stupid smile aimed at rich strangers who’ll flirt with him all night long.
The image makes Eddie feel slightly ill.
Which is ridiculous.
They’re not dating.
Buck’s allowed to do whatever he wants.
Buck could probably walk into that gala and leave with anyone.
The thought sits ugly and heavy in Eddie’s chest all shift.
It gets worse later.
Because of course it does.
The 118 gets called to a minor apartment fire just after lunch. Nothing serious. Mostly smoke.
And while Hen checks an elderly resident and Chim talks to building management, Buck ends up helping a woman carry a box outside.
She’s pretty.
Blonde.
Around Buck’s age.
Eddie notices immediately and hates himself for it.
The woman laughs at something Buck says.
Then she touches his arm.
Eddie’s grip tightens on the oxygen tank in his hand.
“Diaz,” Bobby says quietly beside him.
Shit.
Eddie loosens his fingers immediately.
“You good?”
“Fine.”
Bobby hums like he absolutely does not believe him.
Across the street, the woman is still talking to Buck.
Then she says something that makes Buck laugh.
And Eddie suddenly can’t hear anything else.
Not the radios.
Not the traffic.
Nothing.
Just Buck smiling at someone else.
Then the woman reaches into her purse.
Pulls out a pen.
Writes on Buck’s hand.
Eddie goes cold.
“Oh,” Ravi says beside him.
Buck looks startled but polite as the woman squeezes his wrist flirtatiously before walking away.
The second she’s gone, Buck makes a face.
Then he walks directly toward Eddie.
Of course he does.
Always.
“She gave me her number,” Buck says the moment he reaches him, sounding baffled.
Eddie forces neutrality into his face.
“Congrats.”
Buck immediately frowns.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
Buck studies him carefully.
Then glances down at the number on his hand.
And without hesitation, grabs a disinfectant wipe from the truck and scrubs it off.
Eddie stares.
Buck notices.
“What?”
“You erased it.”
Buck shrugs like it’s obvious. “I’m not gonna call her.”
The relief that crashes through Eddie is immediate and humiliating.
He looks away quickly.
Buck watches him for another long second.
Then softer:
“Seriously, are you okay?”
And Eddie almost says it.
Almost says:
No, actually, I’m losing my mind because everybody suddenly sees what I’ve always seen and I think one day you’re gonna realize you deserve more than me.
Instead he just nods once.
Buck doesn’t look convinced.
But the alarm sounds again before he can push.
And Eddie gets another temporary escape from the fact that he’s completely, hopelessly in love with his best friend.
The gala is on a Saturday.
Which means Eddie has six full days to spiral about it.
Fantastic.
By Wednesday, the entire station is unbearable.
Hen is helping Buck pick ties during downtime.
Chim keeps showing him celebrity interview clips “for media training.”
Ravi made a playlist called Hot Girl Firefighter Music and somehow connected it to the loft speakers.
Buck looks permanently embarrassed.
Which should make Eddie feel better.
Instead it just makes him worse.
Because Buck isn’t enjoying the attention in an arrogant way. He’s still Buck. Still soft around the edges. Still rolling his eyes every time someone calls him famous.
Still bringing Eddie coffee without asking how he takes it.
Still texting Christopher stupid memes during shift.
Still theirs.
That’s the dangerous part.
Because Eddie keeps forgetting Buck could leave if he wanted to.
—
“You’re going with him.”
Eddie looks up sharply from the report he’s writing.
Hen is smirking at him from across the table.
“With who?”
“With Buck,” she says slowly, like Eddie’s stupid.
Buck nearly drops the stack of towels in his hands. “What?”
“The gala,” Chim says. “Obviously.”
Buck laughs awkwardly. “No.”
“No?” Ravi repeats. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not like that.”
The words hit harder than they should.
Eddie focuses very carefully on the report in front of him.
“Okay,” Hen says casually. “Then take Eddie as your friend.”
Buck opens his mouth.
Stops.
Looks at Eddie.
And there’s something almost hopeful in his expression for half a second.
“Would you want to?” Buck asks quietly.
Eddie’s heartbeat stumbles.
The loft suddenly feels too warm.
Too small.
“Uh,” Eddie says intelligently.
Buck immediately backtracks. “You don’t have to. Forget it.”
“No, I just…”
Eddie can feel everyone watching them.
He wants to say yes.
God, he wants to say yes.
But the idea of spending an entire evening watching people flirt with Buck while Buck looks gorgeous enough to ruin lives?
Absolutely not.
“I can’t,” Eddie says finally. “Chris.”
Buck’s face falls before he can hide it.
“Oh. Right.”
The disappointment in his voice is quiet.
Still obvious.
Guilt claws immediately through Eddie’s chest.
Christopher is literally at a sleepover that night.
Buck knows that.
Eddie knows Buck knows.
And Buck still lets him lie.
Because Buck never pushes when Eddie starts retreating.
“Could ask Carla,” Buck says after a second, too casual.
“Yeah.”
A weird silence settles over the loft.
Then Chim claps loudly.
“Anyway! We’re buying Buck a slutty suit.”
Buck throws a towel directly at his face.
The others dissolve into chaos instantly.
Eddie laughs automatically.
But Buck barely looks at him the rest of the shift.
And somehow that feels worse.
—
By Friday night, Eddie’s in hell.
Because Buck comes over after shift to “try outfit options.”
Eddie should’ve said no.
Instead he somehow ended up here.
Watching Buck emerge from Eddie’s bedroom in a dark suit that genuinely makes Eddie forget his own name.
“Oh,” Eddie says before he can stop himself.
Buck pauses.
The room goes strangely still.
“You think it looks okay?”
Okay?
The suit fits perfectly.
Dark charcoal.
Tailored close through Buck’s waist.
White dress shirt slightly open at the throat.
He looks older somehow.
Sharper.
Dangerously beautiful.
Eddie suddenly understands why the internet lost its mind.
Christopher looks up from the couch and gasps dramatically.
“Buck!”
Buck laughs. “Too much?”
“You look like James Bond!”
Buck grins brightly.
Then looks at Eddie again.
Waiting.
Always waiting for Eddie.
And Eddie hates himself because his first instinct is panic.
Because Buck looks incredible.
Because this is what everyone else is going to see tomorrow night.
Because someone at that gala is absolutely going to flirt with him.
Maybe take him home.
Maybe make Buck laugh like that.
Maybe give him things Eddie never figured out how to.
“You okay?” Buck asks softly.
Eddie blinks.
“Yeah.”
Buck’s eyes narrow slightly.
“Eddie.”
Christopher looks between them curiously.
Eddie forces himself upright from the couch. “Suit looks good, man.”
Buck keeps watching him.
Like he knows something’s wrong.
Like he’s trying to solve Eddie piece by piece.
Then Christopher jumps up excitedly.
“You need fancy shoes!”
The tension breaks instantly.
Buck laughs. “Apparently I do.”
Christopher drags him toward the hallway.
Eddie stays rooted to the floor.
And for one awful second, watching Buck disappear down the hall with Christopher feels painfully domestic.
Like something he could’ve had.
If he’d just been braver.
—
Later that night, after Christopher finally goes to bed, Buck stays.
Of course he does.
He’s stretched across Eddie’s couch in sweatpants now, gala clothes carefully hung up in the hallway.
The TV plays quietly in the background.
Neither of them are really watching it.
Buck glances over eventually.
“You’ve been weird all week.”
Eddie exhales slowly.
“I’ve not.”
Buck gives him a look.
“You’re quieter.”
“Sorry.”
Buck’s expression softens immediately. “Hey. Don’t do that.”
Eddie looks over.
Buck’s watching him carefully now, blue eyes warm in the low apartment light.
“You don’t have to apologize for having moods.”
God.
That’s the problem.
Buck is so good.
Too good.
“How do you do that?” Eddie asks quietly.
Buck blinks. “Do what?”
“Just…” Eddie gestures vaguely. “Be like this.”
Buck laughs softly. “I’m literally lying on your couch stealing your blanket.”
“You know what I mean.”
Buck goes quieter at that.
The TV flickers softly across his face.
“I don’t,” he admits.
Eddie stares at him.
Buck shrugs one shoulder, suddenly looking strangely uncertain.
“People online don’t know me, Eddie.”
“They seem to think they do.”
Buck snorts softly. “Yeah, well. They see thirty second clips and a couple photos.” His voice turns quieter. “That’s not really me.”
Eddie’s chest tightens unexpectedly.
Because he knows the real Buck.
The real Buck who wakes up disoriented after nightmares.
Who tears up at animal rescue commercials.
Who kisses Christopher’s forehead without thinking about it.
Who gets scared people will stop loving him if he isn’t useful enough.
Buck shifts slightly on the couch.
“You know me though.”
The words land directly in Eddie’s chest.
Deep.
Dangerous.
Buck’s looking at him with something unbearably open in his expression now.
Trust.
Affection.
Maybe something more.
Eddie’s heart pounds hard enough to hurt.
Then Buck smiles softly.
“And you’re still here.”
Eddie thinks that might be the moment he realizes he’s completely screwed.
Because the thing destroying him isn’t really jealousy.
It’s fear.
Fear that one day Buck’s going to look around and realize Eddie brings nothing special to his life.
That Buck could have easier.
Lighter.
Better.
Someone less damaged.
Someone who wouldn’t hesitate every time things got real.
Buck yawns suddenly, breaking the moment.
“You’re staring.”
Eddie looks away immediately. “Shut up.”
Buck grins sleepily.
Then, because apparently Eddie’s suffering means nothing to the universe, Buck stretches out farther across the couch and rests his head against Eddie’s thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Eddie stops breathing.
Buck doesn’t notice.
Or maybe he does.
Either option is terrifying.
“Wake me up if I fall asleep,” Buck mumbles.
Then his hand settles absentmindedly against Eddie’s knee.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
Eddie stares down at him for a long, helpless moment.
And realizes he’s already lost this fight.
Eddie makes it exactly fourteen hours before everything gets worse.
The gala starts at seven.
At six thirty-two, Buck texts him a selfie.
No warning.
No context.
Just:
help i think i accidentally look expensive
And attached is a mirror photo that nearly kills Eddie instantly.
Buck’s standing in some hotel bathroom, dark suit fitted perfectly, tie loosened slightly already like he’s trying not to suffocate in it. His hair is styled back just enough to expose the sharp line of his jaw.
He looks unfair.
Like magazine-cover unfair.
Like someone people would turn around to stare at in public.
Eddie sits motionless on his couch while his heart does something deeply embarrassing.
Then another text arrives.
Buck:
seriously why are rich people lighting so aggressive
And because Buck is Buck:
Buck:
also there are tiny sandwiches and im scared of them
Eddie laughs helplessly before he can stop himself.
Christopher looks up from where he’s building Lego on the floor.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
But his chest aches anyway.
Because this is what Buck does.
Makes things warm.
Easy.
Safe.
Even while looking beautiful enough to ruin Eddie’s entire life.
Eddie types back before he can overthink it.
Eddie:
You clean up okay.
The typing bubble appears instantly.
Buck:
okay?????
Then:
Buck:
rude
Eddie smiles despite himself.
Christopher squints suspiciously at him. “You’re smiling at your phone.”
“Mind your business.”
“That means it’s Buck.”
Eddie throws a pillow at him.
Christopher cackles.
The phone buzzes again.
Buck:
send help
someone just asked if i model
Something ugly twists low in Eddie’s stomach again.
He stares at the text too long.
Buck:
eddie?
Eddie:
Ignore them.
Three dots appear immediately.
Buck:
trying to
And for some reason, that helps a little.
—
It does not help an hour later when Hen posts photos.
Traitor.
Eddie’s scrolling through his phone while Christopher brushes his teeth when the first picture appears.
Buck standing beside a sponsor wall, one hand in his pocket, smiling softly at someone off camera.
Thousands of likes already.
The next photo is worse.
Buck laughing with his head tipped back slightly.
The comments are catastrophic.
“OH HE’S PRETTY PRETTY.”
“Need him in ways concerning to feminism.”
“That man could absolutely ruin me.”
“The things I would let firefighter Buckley do.”
Eddie locks his phone aggressively.
His chest feels tight.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Buck isn’t doing anything wrong.
But every comment feels personal somehow.
Because they’re seeing it now.
What Eddie’s spent years trying not to notice too much.
Buck is beautiful.
Not just physically.
In every possible way.
And the terrifying thing is Buck still doesn’t fully understand it.
Eddie’s halfway through convincing himself to stop doom-scrolling when his phone rings.
Buck.
His heartbeat immediately kicks harder.
Christopher yells from the bathroom, “Tell Buck I said hi!”
Eddie clears his throat before answering. “Hey.”
The noise hits first.
Music.
People talking.
Glasses clinking.
Then Buck’s voice.
Warm and familiar.
“There you are.”
Something in Eddie’s chest melts instantly.
“You sound drunk.”
“I had one champagne,” Buck says defensively. “Maybe two.”
Eddie smiles despite himself. “Lightweight.”
“Rude.”
Buck’s voice lowers slightly.
“I escaped to the balcony.”
The image appears immediately in Eddie’s mind:
Buck outside beneath city lights, suit jacket pulled open slightly, hair messy from people touching it all night.
Eddie feels sick.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
A pause.
Then:
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“I kinda hate this.”
Relief crashes through Eddie so hard it almost knocks the breath from him.
“Why?”
Buck sighs softly through the phone.
“Everybody keeps looking at me.”
The words are quiet.
Uneasy.
And suddenly Eddie remembers:
Buck’s never actually liked being watched.
Not really.
Attention, yes.
Affection, yes.
But scrutiny?
No.
“They keep saying weird stuff,” Buck continues. “One woman asked if my calendar photos were edited.”
Eddie’s jaw tightens instantly.
“What’d you say?”
Buck laughs softly. “Hen nearly tackled her before I could answer.”
That earns another reluctant smile.
Then Buck goes quieter again.
“I wish you were here.”
The words hit like a punch.
Eddie closes his eyes briefly.
“Buck…”
“I know,” Buck says quickly. “Chris.”
Guilt twists viciously in Eddie’s stomach.
Because Christopher is already asleep down the hall.
Because Eddie could’ve gone.
Because he was too much of a coward.
Buck sighs softly into the phone.
“Sorry. Ignore me.”
“No.”
Silence settles between them for a second.
Comfortable.
Heavy.
Then voices sound faintly behind Buck.
“Buckley!”
Buck groans quietly. “They found me.”
Eddie’s chest tightens unexpectedly.
“Go back inside.”
Another pause.
Then softly:
“Wish you’d come anyway.”
And before Eddie can respond, the line disconnects.
Eddie stares at the dark screen long after the call ends.
His pulse won’t settle.
Because Buck wanted him there.
Not Chim.
Not Hen.
Him.
Christopher shuffles sleepily into the living room in dinosaur pajamas.
“Was that Buck?”
Eddie nods once.
Christopher studies him carefully with terrifying Diaz perception skills.
“You miss him.”
The honesty of it steals Eddie’s breath.
“Go to bed, buddy.”
Christopher keeps staring.
Then quietly:
“You look sad when Buck’s sad.”
And before Eddie can answer that impossible statement, Christopher disappears back down the hallway.
Leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts.
And the awful realization that he’s not just jealous.
He’s in love enough that Buck being unhappy physically hurts him.
Buck gets home just after midnight.
Not to his loft.
To Eddie’s.
Because apparently that’s where he goes now.
Eddie hears the quiet knock while he’s still awake on the couch pretending not to stare at his phone waiting for updates like some pathetic teenager.
He opens the door immediately.
And promptly forgets how language works.
Because Buck still looks devastating.
Tie gone now.
Top buttons undone.
Hair a mess like he’s been dragging frustrated hands through it all night.
His cheeks are pink from alcohol and cold air.
And the second Buck sees Eddie, his entire face softens.
There it is again.
That thing.
Like Eddie’s where he relaxes.
“Hey,” Buck says quietly.
Eddie swallows hard. “Hey.”
Buck exhales dramatically while stepping inside.
“Never let me do rich people things again.”
Eddie snorts softly, closing the door behind him. “That bad?”
Buck drops onto the couch beside him with a groan.
“They kept trying to network.”
“The horror.”
“I’m serious,” Buck complains. “One guy asked if I’d considered acting.”
Eddie blinks.
Then immediately:
“You’d hate acting.”
Buck turns toward him so fast he almost loses balance.
“Right?”
The relief in his voice is immediate and weirdly fond.
Eddie stares for a second.
Because Buck genuinely cares what he thinks.
Still.
Always.
“You’d hate pretending to be someone else all the time,” Eddie says softly.
Buck watches him.
Really watches him.
Then smiles slowly.
“Yeah.”
The room goes quiet.
Too quiet.
Eddie can smell Buck’s cologne from here, mixed with smoke and champagne and something warm underneath that’s just Buck.
It’s distracting.
Dangerously distracting.
Buck leans back against the couch cushions with a long sigh.
“Missed you.”
The words slip out casually.
Like they don’t mean anything.
Eddie’s heart nearly stops anyway.
Buck closes his eyes briefly.
“Hen kept threatening people who flirted with me.”
Eddie huffs a laugh automatically.
“Sounds about right.”
“She called one guy emotionally unworthy.”
“That’s because he probably was.”
Buck grins sleepily.
“There was another guy though.”
Something sharp twists instantly in Eddie’s chest.
“Oh?”
Buck nods against the couch cushion.
“Some city council guy.” He makes a face. “Very shiny teeth.”
Eddie hates him immediately.
“He kept trying to get my number.”
The jealousy arrives hot and ugly before Eddie can stop it.
“What’d you say?”
Buck cracks one eye open.
And suddenly there’s something unreadable in his expression.
“Told him I wasn’t interested.”
Relief crashes through Eddie again.
Immediate.
Humiliating.
Buck keeps looking at him strangely.
Then softer:
“He asked if I had a boyfriend.”
Eddie’s breath catches.
The air between them changes instantly.
“What’d you tell him?” Eddie asks quietly.
Buck doesn’t answer right away.
Just keeps watching him.
Then:
“I said it was complicated.”
Eddie’s pulse pounds hard enough to hurt.
Because what does that mean?
Complicated how?
Before he can ask, Buck laughs softly and drops his head back against the couch again.
“God, I’m tired.”
The moment fractures.
Or maybe Eddie just loses his nerve.
Again.
“Go change,” he says roughly. “You look uncomfortable.”
Buck groans. “These pants are evil.”
Eddie makes the mistake of looking.
The suit pants fit extremely well.
This is punishment from the universe specifically.
Buck catches him staring.
His eyebrows lift slowly.
Eddie jerks his eyes away immediately.
Buck goes very quiet.
Then:
“Oh.”
Oh no.
Eddie stands abruptly. “I’ll get you water.”
He makes it exactly two steps before Buck catches his wrist.
Warm fingers wrapping carefully around him.
Not tight.
Just enough.
Eddie freezes.
Buck’s hand slowly slips downward until their palms press together.
Neither of them breathe.
“Eddie,” Buck says softly.
Every survival instinct Eddie has starts screaming.
Because Buck sounds different.
Small.
Hopeful.
Terrified.
And Eddie cannot survive this if he’s wrong.
So instead of doing the brave thing for once in his miserable life, he panics.
Pulls away too fast.
Buck’s expression drops immediately.
“I should change,” Eddie says quickly.
Coward.
Buck’s hand falls empty into his lap.
The hurt on his face is instant even though he tries to hide it.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sure.”
Guilt slams through Eddie so hard he feels sick.
But he can’t fix it.
Because if Buck means what Eddie desperately wants him to mean, then everything changes.
And if he doesn’t?
Eddie loses him.
So instead he retreats into the kitchen like an idiot while his heart tries to claw its way out of his chest.
He grips the counter hard enough to hurt.
Behind him, the apartment stays painfully quiet.
Then eventually:
“You know what the weirdest part was tonight?”
Buck’s voice sounds careful now.
Guarded.
Eddie closes his eyes briefly.
“What?”
“All those people.”
A pause.
“They kept looking at me like they wanted something.”
Eddie swallows hard.
“And?”
Another pause.
Then softly:
“I kept wishing you were there looking at me instead.”
Eddie’s entire body goes still.
Because no one has ever wanted him like that.
Not fully.
Not openly.
Not Buck.
Not possibly.
And suddenly Eddie understands with horrible clarity that this is not one-sided.
That Buck might actually…
No.
No, Eddie can’t think that way.
Because wanting Buck is one thing.
Losing him would destroy him.
So instead of turning around and kissing him like he wants to, Eddie grips the kitchen counter tighter and says the stupidest possible thing.
“You should get some sleep.”
Silence.
Long enough to hurt.
Then:
“Right.”
Buck’s voice closes off instantly.
Eddie feels the distance the second it happens.
And he hates himself for causing it.
A minute later Buck stands.
“Guess I should head home.”
Eddie turns finally.
Buck won’t look at him now.
The suit suddenly feels less intimate somehow.
Like armor again.
“You don’t have to leave,” Eddie says quietly.
Buck smiles.
Small.
Sad.
“Feels like maybe I do.”
Then he grabs his jacket and walks out the door before Eddie can figure out how to stop him.
Buck avoids him.
Not obviously.
That would almost be easier.
Instead it’s subtle enough that nobody else notices.
But Eddie does.
Of course he does.
Because Buck still smiles at him.
Still checks if Eddie ate during shift.
Still tosses him water bottles after training exercises.
He just…
Pulls back first now.
No casual touching.
No leaning against Eddie during movie nights at the station.
No unconscious reaching.
And the worst part is Eddie knows exactly why.
He did that.
—
Three days after the gala, Eddie walks into the loft kitchen at seven in the morning and nearly turns around immediately.
Buck’s there already.
Fresh from a run apparently, grey department shirt damp with sweat and clinging unfairly to his chest.
Ravi is saying something animated while Buck laughs softly.
Then Buck notices Eddie.
And that tiny hesitation appears again.
Quick.
Painful.
“Morning,” Buck says.
“Hey.”
Eddie grabs coffee mostly so he has something to do with his hands.
The silence stretches awkwardly.
Before the gala, Buck would’ve filled it instantly.
Now he just looks away first.
The loss of it sits heavy in Eddie’s chest.
Ravi glances between them.
Definitely noticing something.
“You guys good?”
“Yep,” Buck says immediately.
“Fine,” Eddie says at the exact same time.
Ravi looks terrified.
Smart man.
Buck clears his throat. “Anyway, the internet thinks I adopted a Dalmatian now.”
“What?”
Buck pulls out his phone reluctantly.
Someone apparently edited photos of Buck holding a rescue dog at yesterday’s call into a full relationship announcement.
Hen walks in, sees the picture, and immediately starts laughing so hard she has to grab the counter.
“Oh my god, they gave him matching sweaters.”
Buck sounds personally betrayed. “Why are people like this?”
Eddie tries not to smile.
Fails.
Buck notices instantly.
And for one brief second, the tension cracks.
“There he is,” Buck says softly.
The fondness in his voice hits Eddie directly in the ribs.
Then Chim enters yelling about breakfast burritos and the moment disappears.
But Eddie catches Buck looking at him twice more that morning.
Small glances.
Hopeful ones.
Like Buck’s still waiting for something.
—
The problem with loving Buck is that Eddie can’t stop noticing him.
Especially now.
Now that Buck’s keeping distance carefully enough to hurt.
During calls, Eddie catches himself searching automatically for Buck’s voice over the radio.
At lunch, he notices the empty chair beside him before Buck sits somewhere else with Ravi and Chim.
At the end of shift, his apartment feels wrong without Buck sprawled across the couch.
Christopher notices too.
“Where’s Buck?”
Eddie nearly drops the plate he’s drying.
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t come over yesterday.”
“Buck’s busy.”
Christopher narrows his eyes in that deeply unsettling Diaz way.
“Did you fight?”
“No.”
A beat.
“Did Buck think you were mad at him again?”
Again.
Because Buck always assumes that first.
Eddie closes his eyes briefly.
“Why would you say that?”
Christopher shrugs. “Sometimes when you get quiet, Buck gets sad.”
Well.
That’s emotionally devastating.
“Finish your homework,” Eddie says weakly.
Christopher keeps staring.
Then quietly:
“You know Buck likes you the best, right?”
Eddie’s heart stops.
“What?”
Christopher looks confused by the question. “Out of everybody.”
Oh.
Oh, that’s somehow worse.
Because Christopher says it like it’s obvious.
Like it’s fact.
And maybe it is.
Maybe Buck does choose Eddie first.
But that doesn’t mean Buck wants him the way Eddie wants Buck.
Except…
Except the gala balcony.
The hand on Eddie’s wrist.
I kept wishing you were there looking at me instead.
Eddie presses his palms hard against the counter.
God.
He’s such a coward.
—
The next shift is a disaster.
Not because of a call.
Because of a reporter.
The station doors are open while Chim washes the engine and Hen reorganizes medical inventory.
Buck’s halfway through carrying equipment across the bay when a woman appears with a camera crew.
“Oh my god,” Buck mutters immediately.
The reporter beams.
“Firefighter Buckley! Just a few questions about the calendar campaign?”
Buck freezes like a deer in headlights.
Eddie recognizes the panic instantly.
Buck hates surprise attention.
“You need permission to film here,” Bobby says firmly, stepping forward.
The reporter smiles apologetically. “Of course. We were just hoping for a quick interview.”
“No,” Buck says instantly.
The woman blinks, clearly surprised.
Buck shifts uncomfortably under the camera lens already pointed toward him.
“No interviews,” he repeats, tighter this time.
Eddie’s chest twists.
Because Buck looks trapped.
The reporter recovers quickly.
“Just one question? People are calling you the face of the LAFD online.”
Buck visibly flinches.
And something inside Eddie snaps instantly.
He steps forward before he even thinks about it.
“He said no.”
The reporter looks startled.
Eddie plants himself directly beside Buck.
Close enough their shoulders brush.
Buck goes still.
“You’re making my firefighter uncomfortable,” Eddie says flatly. “So either turn the camera off or leave.”
The camera guy lowers it immediately.
Smart.
The reporter flushes. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to-”
“Leave,” Bobby says calmly.
They leave.
Fast.
Silence settles over the bay.
Buck’s still standing rigidly beside Eddie.
“You okay?” Hen asks gently.
Buck exhales slowly. “Yeah.”
But he sounds shaky.
Without thinking, Eddie reaches for him.
Just instinct.
His hand lands against the back of Buck’s neck briefly.
Warm skin.
Soft hair.
Buck’s eyes close for half a second.
Then Eddie remembers himself and pulls away too quickly.
Again.
Buck opens his eyes.
And there it is.
That hurt.
Quiet now.
Resigned.
Like Buck’s getting used to Eddie retreating from him.
The realization makes Eddie feel sick.
Ravi awkwardly clears his throat and disappears immediately.
Chim follows.
Cowards.
Bobby pretends to check paperwork very intensely.
Leaving Buck and Eddie alone near the engine.
Buck stares down at the floor for a second.
Then quietly:
“You always do that.”
Eddie’s throat tightens. “Do what?”
“Protect me.”
The honesty in Buck’s voice is unbearable.
Eddie looks away first.
Buck laughs softly.
Not happy.
“You know what’s messed up?”
“What?”
Buck steps closer.
Not enough to touch.
Enough that Eddie can feel heat rolling off him anyway.
“I think you’re the only person who’s looked at me differently since all this happened.”
Eddie’s chest tightens painfully.
Because Buck’s wrong.
Eddie’s looking at him more than ever.
He just doesn’t know how to survive it anymore.
Buck keeps watching him.
Then quietly:
“And I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.”
Before Eddie can answer, the alarm rings overhead.
Saving him.
Again.
And this time, when Buck walks away first, Eddie realizes with sudden terrifying clarity that he might actually lose him if he keeps running.
The call is bad.
Not catastrophic.
But bad enough that adrenaline burns through the station for hours afterward.
Apartment collapse.
Gas leak.
Three injured civilians.
And Buck gets hurt.
Not seriously.
But the second a chunk of falling debris clips Buck’s shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways, Eddie’s entire world narrows instantly.
“BUCK!”
The shout tears out of him before he can stop it.
Buck hits the ground awkwardly with a grunt.
Everything after that happens too fast.
Eddie’s moving before the dust even settles.
Dropping beside him.
Hands immediately on Buck’s face, shoulders, anywhere he can reach.
“Talk to me.”
Buck blinks up at him, dazed. “M’fine.”
“You hit your head?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Eddie.”
Buck’s voice cuts through the panic just enough.
Around them, Hen is already assessing the rest of the scene while Chim coordinates evac routes.
But Eddie can barely hear any of it over the blood roaring in his ears.
Because Buck got hurt.
Because for one horrible second Eddie saw Buck disappear beneath concrete and his entire body reacted like the world was ending.
Buck grabs Eddie’s wrist gently.
“I’m okay.”
Eddie looks down.
Their eyes lock.
And suddenly the rest of the scene fades completely.
Because Buck’s looking at him with something soft and wrecked and horribly hopeful all at once.
Like he sees everything Eddie’s trying so desperately to hide.
Hen kneels beside them suddenly.
“Well,” she says dryly, “this is intimate.”
Eddie jerks backward immediately.
Buck’s hand slips away.
The loss of contact feels immediate.
“He’s bruised,” Hen says after a quick check. “Nothing broken.”
Buck sighs dramatically. “Can I stop being assessed like a Victorian woman now?”
“No,” Hen and Eddie say simultaneously.
Buck smiles automatically.
Then catches himself.
That distance slides back into place again.
And Eddie hates it.
—
Back at the station, Buck sits shirtless on the couch while Hen tapes his shoulder.
Which is already difficult enough for Eddie to survive.
The bruise stretches dark across Buck’s skin, ugly against muscle and freckles.
Eddie stands near the kitchen island pretending not to stare.
He fails.
Repeatedly.
Buck notices every time.
Of course he does.
“You’re hovering,” Buck says finally.
“I’m not.”
“You literally haven’t blinked in ten minutes.”
Chim snorts from the table. “He looked ready to fistfight a building earlier.”
Eddie flips him off without looking away from Buck.
Hen finishes taping the shoulder carefully.
“You’re lucky Diaz loves you more than oxygen.”
The room goes silent.
Completely silent.
Eddie’s heart stops.
Hen freezes too.
“Oh,” she says faintly.
Buck stares at Eddie.
Eddie stares at Hen in horror.
Chim makes a choking noise into his coffee.
Ravi physically turns around and walks straight back out of the room.
Coward.
Hen recovers first.
“I meant-”
“No, yeah,” Eddie says too quickly. “Obviously. Team stuff.”
Buck is still staring at him.
Not moving.
Not blinking.
“Right,” Buck says softly.
And the thing is?
He doesn’t sound convinced at all.
Bobby appears in the doorway, takes one look at the atmosphere, and immediately backs out again.
Traitor.
Hen suddenly stands. “I’m gonna go inventory bandages for the next six years.”
Then she flees.
Actually flees.
Leaving Buck and Eddie alone.
The silence becomes unbearable instantly.
Buck’s sitting there shirtless, shoulder taped, blue eyes fixed entirely on Eddie like he’s trying to solve him.
Eddie feels exposed down to the bone.
Finally Buck speaks.
“You thought I was gonna die.”
Not a question.
Eddie swallows hard. “You got hit.”
Buck stands slowly.
Steps closer.
“You screamed my name.”
The memory flashes hot through Eddie instantly.
The panic.
The terror.
Buck’s expression softens almost painfully.
“Eddie…”
And that’s it.
That’s the final crack.
Because Buck says his name like it matters.
Like Eddie matters.
Eddie’s exhausted.
Exhausted from fighting this.
From being terrified all the time.
From watching Buck pull away because Eddie keeps pushing him there.
“You wanna know what my problem is?” Eddie asks suddenly.
Buck goes very still.
“Yes.”
Eddie laughs once.
Broken around the edges.
“My problem is everybody keeps acting like you’re some prize people can win.”
Buck blinks.
“What?”
“The comments. The flirting. People saying you could do better.” Eddie’s voice turns rougher. “Like eventually you’re gonna realize they’re right.”
Buck stares at him in stunned silence.
Eddie can’t stop now.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like watching people look at you like that?” he asks quietly. “Like they already know you’re worth more than anybody around you?”
Buck’s breathing changes.
Small.
Sharp.
“Eddie…”
“You could have anyone,” Eddie says helplessly. “Anybody.”
And there it is.
The fear.
Raw now.
Visible.
“Eventually you’re gonna wake up and realize I’m not…” Eddie swallows hard. “I’m not enough to make you stay.”
Buck just stares at him.
Completely motionless.
Then:
“You think that’s what this is about?”
Eddie looks away immediately.
Buck steps closer.
“Look at me.”
Eddie can’t.
Buck’s voice breaks slightly.
“Eddie, please.”
That does it.
Eddie lifts his eyes.
Buck looks devastated.
Actually devastated.
“You think I want better than you?”
The words hit like a punch.
Eddie says nothing.
Buck laughs softly.
Disbelieving.
“Jesus Christ.”
Then suddenly Buck’s hands are framing Eddie’s face.
Warm.
Steady.
Eddie stops breathing.
“You are the person I want,” Buck says fiercely. “You. It’s always been you.”
Eddie’s entire body goes still.
Because there’s no room for misunderstanding in that.
None.
Buck’s thumbs brush lightly against Eddie’s cheeks.
“I don’t care about the comments,” Buck whispers. “I don’t care who flirts with me. I don’t care about any of this stupid attention if I can’t come home to you afterward.”
Home.
Eddie’s chest cracks wide open.
“I thought you were pulling away because you didn’t…” Buck swallows hard. “After the gala, I thought maybe I read everything wrong.”
“You didn’t.”
Buck searches his face desperately.
“You feel this too?”
Eddie laughs shakily because apparently he’s close to crying now.
“Buck,” he whispers. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”
Buck makes a soft, wrecked sound.
Then he kisses him.
And Eddie understands immediately why people write songs about this.
Because Buck kisses like he loves.
Openly.
Completely.
One hand slides into Eddie’s hair while the other stays warm against his jaw.
Eddie grips Buck’s waist instinctively, pulling him closer with something dangerously close to desperation.
Buck kisses him deeper instantly.
Like he’s been waiting too.
Like he’s wanted this just as badly.
The world narrows down to warmth and breath and Buck.
Buck.
When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing hard.
Buck rests his forehead against Eddie’s immediately.
“You idiot,” he whispers shakily.
Eddie laughs breathlessly. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Buck kisses him again quickly. “You thought I wanted somebody else?”
“You’re literally firefighter calendar hot.”
Buck snorts against his mouth.
“Yeah, and?” he murmurs. “I still only wanted you looking at me.”
For exactly thirty-six hours, Eddie thinks maybe the universe is finally giving them a break.
Which honestly should’ve been the first warning sign.
Because those thirty-six hours are… good.
Absurdly good.
Buck kisses him in the parking lot after shift with both hands cupping Eddie’s face like he still can’t believe he’s allowed.
Christopher takes one look at them holding hands in the kitchen and just yells “FINALLY.”
Buck sleeps over and somehow ends up half on top of Eddie by morning.
Eddie wakes up happier than he remembers being in years.
It feels easy.
Natural.
Like maybe they were always supposed to end up here.
Then the internet finds out.
And everything explodes.
—
It starts with a photo.
One blurry stupid photo.
Buck and Eddie outside a grocery store after shift.
Buck laughing.
Eddie touching his waist absentmindedly.
Both of them looking painfully soft.
The caption reads:
WAIT. FIRE FIGHTER BUCKLEY IS DATING SOMEONE???
And because the internet is evil, it takes less than two hours for people to identify Eddie.
Firefighter Eddie Diaz.
118.
Army veteran.
Single dad.
At first, it’s mostly shock.
Then the comments start.
Buck sees them first.
Unfortunately.
He’s sprawled across Eddie’s couch after dinner, Christopher upstairs showering, when Buck suddenly goes very still beside him.
Eddie looks over immediately.
“What?”
Buck locks his phone instantly.
“Nothing.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “Buck.”
Buck smiles too quickly. “Seriously.”
Which means absolutely not seriously.
Eddie reaches for the phone automatically.
Buck pulls it away.
Too late.
Eddie already saw enough.
How did HE pull Buck???
Buck could do so much better.
Thought he’d date someone hotter tbh.
Buckley settling is insane.
Why does Eddie look permanently miserable.
That guy is punching WAY above his weight.
Something cold settles heavily in Eddie’s stomach.
“Oh.”
Buck’s expression immediately crumples.
“Eddie.”
“It’s fine.”
It is very obviously not fine.
Buck grabs his wrist gently. “Don’t.”
Eddie looks away first.
Because this.
This is exactly what he was afraid of.
The whole world looking at Buck and wondering why he chose Eddie.
Buck shifts closer immediately.
“I don’t care what they think.”
Eddie laughs once under his breath.
“Yeah, well. They’re not wrong.”
Buck goes completely still.
“What?”
Eddie shrugs tightly. “Look at you.”
Buck stares at him like he’s said something insane.
Then Christopher barrels downstairs.
“Buck, can we order-” He stops. “Uh oh.”
Buck immediately softens his expression.
“Hey, buddy.”
Christopher looks between them suspiciously.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” Eddie says.
Christopher squints.
Then marches directly over to Buck and steals the phone from his hands with terrifying speed.
“Christopher-”
Too late.
Christopher reads silently for about five seconds.
Then his entire face twists in outrage.
“These people are stupid.”
Eddie blinks.
Buck looks helplessly fond already.
Christopher points aggressively at the phone.
“Dad, you literally look at Buck like he invented happiness.”
Buck chokes violently.
Eddie feels his soul leave his body.
Christopher keeps going.
“And Buck likes you the most out of everyone in the whole world, so who cares?”
Buck’s eyes go suspiciously shiny.
“Buddy…”
“No, seriously,” Christopher insists. “They don’t know you.”
Then, because apparently Eddie raised a tiny emotional assassin, Christopher climbs directly into Buck’s lap and glares at the phone like he personally wants to fight the internet.
Buck wraps his arms around him automatically.
Eddie has to look away for a second because his chest physically hurts.
God.
This family could ruin him.
—
The next shift is worse.
Much worse.
Because now everybody knows.
Hen opens the station doors before Eddie and Buck even fully walk in.
Then immediately screams.
“OH MY GOD FINALLY.”
Chim appears behind her looking equally emotional. “I KNEW IT.”
Ravi looks like he’s witnessing history.
Buck laughs helplessly beside Eddie.
And despite everything still sitting ugly in Eddie’s chest from last night, the sound instantly calms him a little.
Hen points accusingly. “You idiots have been in love for YEARS.”
“We know that now,” Buck says.
“Bobby owes me forty dollars,” Chim announces proudly.
Bobby walks out of his office looking exhausted already.
“I hate all of you.”
Then he sees Buck and Eddie standing close together.
Really sees them.
The softness.
The obviousness.
His expression immediately gentles.
“Oh,” Bobby says quietly.
And somehow that’s worse emotionally than the screaming.
Buck smiles sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Bobby looks genuinely happy.
“For the record,” he says calmly, “it’s about time.”
Then he walks away before either of them can combust.
The shift almost feels normal after that.
Almost.
Until lunchtime.
Ravi’s scrolling through his phone at the table when he suddenly goes quiet.
Too quiet.
Buck notices immediately.
“What?”
Ravi hesitates.
“Nothing.”
“Ravi.”
Ravi winces.
Then slowly turns the phone around.
It’s bad.
A gossip account reposted the grocery store photo.
And the comments are worse now.
Buck deserves someone less damaged.
Eddie always looks angry.
Can’t believe Buck picked a guy with baggage.
Buckley could pull celebrities and chose THAT?
No offense but one of them is way hotter.
Eddie feels heat crawl up his neck.
Across the table, Buck goes frighteningly still.
Then:
“Give me the phone.”
Ravi immediately does.
Buck scrolls once.
Twice.
His jaw tightens harder every second.
“Buck,” Eddie says quietly.
Buck stands abruptly.
Then throws the phone onto the table hard enough that everyone jumps.
“No.”
The word cracks through the loft sharply.
Hen straightens immediately.
Buck looks furious.
Not embarrassed.
Not awkward.
Furious.
“No one gets to talk about him like that.”
The room goes silent.
Eddie’s heart pounds painfully.
Buck’s chest rises and falls hard.
“He’s the best person I know,” Buck says roughly. “He’s a good dad, a good firefighter, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
Eddie stares at him helplessly.
Buck keeps going.
“And if people can’t understand why I love him, that’s their problem.”
Love.
Not loved.
Love.
Present tense.
Open.
Certain.
The room feels too small suddenly.
Hen looks emotional.
Chim looks ready to fight somebody.
Ravi looks like he might cry.
And Eddie…
Eddie feels something fragile inside him crack apart completely.
Because Buck isn’t ashamed of him.
Not even a little.
Buck notices him staring then.
His anger softens instantly.
And in front of everyone, without hesitation, Buck walks over and cups the back of Eddie’s neck gently.
“You okay?”
The tenderness in his voice nearly undoes Eddie on the spot.
He nods once because speaking feels impossible.
Buck studies him another second.
Then kisses his forehead softly.
Like it’s instinct.
Like loving Eddie publicly is the easiest thing in the world.
And suddenly Eddie realizes something important.
The comments only hurt because Eddie already believed them first.
Buck never did.
The problem is that the internet doesn’t stop.
If anything, it gets worse.
Because people love Buck.
And people especially love projecting things onto Buck.
Which means suddenly strangers online have decided Eddie is:
* too closed off
* too intense
* “not warm enough”
* “probably mean to Buck”
* “emotionally unavailable”
* “holding Buck back”
Eddie tries not to look at any of it.
Fails spectacularly.
—
Three nights later, Buck wakes up at two in the morning to find Eddie sitting alone in the kitchen staring at his phone.
The apartment is dark except for the stove light.
Buck pauses in the hallway immediately.
Because Eddie looks…
Small.
Folded into himself somehow.
Buck walks over quietly.
“Hey.”
Eddie locks the phone instantly.
Too late.
Buck already saw enough.
Why does Buck always date fixer-upper men?
You can tell Buck gives more than he gets.
Eddie looks like he’d break Buck’s heart eventually.
Buck’s chest twists painfully.
“Oh, baby.”
Eddie laughs softly without humor.
“Don’t.”
Buck crouches beside his chair immediately.
“Why are you reading this stuff?”
Eddie shrugs tightly.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“That’s because you’re torturing yourself.”
Eddie looks away.
Buck reaches up carefully, fingers brushing against Eddie’s jaw.
“You know none of this is true, right?”
Another shrug.
Buck’s heart breaks a little.
Because Eddie still doesn’t fully believe him.
“I’m serious,” Buck says softly. “You know what these people see?”
Eddie says nothing.
“They see edited clips. Photos. Thirty second videos.” Buck’s thumb strokes gently against Eddie’s skin. “I see the guy who gets up early to make Chris pancakes before school.”
Eddie’s expression flickers.
Buck keeps going.
“I see the man who carries extra snacks in the truck because he worries people forget to eat.” His voice gentles further. “I see the guy who stayed up with me after my nightmares even before we were together.”
Eddie’s eyes finally lift toward him.
Raw now.
Vulnerable.
Buck’s chest aches.
“They don’t know you,” Buck whispers. “But I do.”
Eddie swallows hard.
“You make everything feel safe,” Buck says quietly. “Do you understand that?”
Something in Eddie’s face breaks slightly at that.
Because Eddie has spent so long believing he’s difficult to love.
Too damaged.
Too complicated.
Too much grief packed into one person.
Buck leans closer.
“You are not something I settled for.”
Eddie closes his eyes briefly.
Then finally whispers:
“I just don’t understand why it’s me.”
Buck actually laughs softly.
Fond.
Disbelieving.
“Seriously?”
Eddie looks miserable. “Buck.”
“No, I need you to hear yourself.” Buck takes both of Eddie’s hands carefully. “You think I could have anyone, right?”
Eddie immediately looks away.
Buck squeezes his fingers gently.
“But you’re the one I want to come home to.”
The words settle warm and heavy between them.
Buck smiles softly.
“You know what happened at the gala?”
Eddie blinks slightly.
“What?”
“There was this actress there.”
Eddie immediately tenses.
Buck notices and kisses his knuckles quickly.
“Relax.”
Eddie glares weakly. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
True.
Annoyingly.
Buck leans his chin against Eddie’s knee.
“She flirted with me for like twenty minutes,” he says. “And the whole time all I could think was that you’d make fun of her shoes.”
Eddie snorts despite himself.
Buck brightens instantly at the sound.
“See? There he is.”
Eddie shakes his head helplessly.
Buck goes quieter again.
“I don’t want perfect, Eddie.”
His voice turns soft enough to ache.
“I want you.”
Eddie stares at him for a long moment.
Then finally:
“You really mean that.”
Buck blinks.
“Of course I mean it.”
“No,” Eddie says quietly. “You really… love me.”
Buck’s expression melts immediately.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
And there it is again.
That overwhelming tenderness Buck carries for him like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Buck stands slowly, guiding Eddie up with him.
Then wraps both arms around Eddie’s waist.
Close.
Warm.
Certain.
Eddie exhales shakily into his shoulder.
“You know what I think?” Buck murmurs into his hair.
“What?”
“I think maybe people online are obsessed with me because they have terrible taste.”
Eddie laughs helplessly against his neck.
“There’s my laugh,” Buck says softly, sounding genuinely relieved.
Guilt twists instantly through Eddie’s chest.
Because Buck notices everything.
Even the moments Eddie disappears into himself.
Buck pulls back just enough to look at him.
“I need you to stop reading comments.”
Eddie makes a face.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Buck studies him another second.
Then suddenly narrows his eyes.
“Wait.”
Eddie immediately distrusts that tone.
“What?”
Buck’s mouth slowly curves upward.
“You got jealous.”
Eddie freezes.
Buck gasps dramatically.
“Oh my god.”
“Buck.”
“You were jealous of the calendar thing.”
“I was not.”
Buck beams brightly now.
“You were!”
Eddie can feel heat crawling up his neck already.
Buck looks delighted beyond reason.
“You thought people were gonna steal me.”
“I hate you.”
Buck laughs so hard he has to hide his face briefly against Eddie’s shoulder.
Then he looks back up with eyes warm and bright and impossibly fond.
“Eddie,” he says softly. “No one could drag me away from you.”
And maybe that should sound ridiculous.
Maybe it should feel too romantic.
Instead it settles deep in Eddie’s chest like something true.
The first time Buck calls Eddie his boyfriend in public, Eddie nearly walks into a parked car.
It happens casually.
Which somehow makes it worse.
The 118 stops at a coffee truck after shift because Chim claimed he was “medically deteriorating” without caffeine.
Buck’s standing beside Eddie in sunglasses and a navy t-shirt that should honestly be illegal when the barista smiles brightly at him.
“You’re the firefighter from TikTok!”
Buck visibly dies inside.
Eddie bites back a smile.
The barista keeps talking anyway.
“My roommate is obsessed with you.”
Buck groans softly. “Please don’t tell me more.”
“She cried when she found out you had a boyfriend.”
And then.
Without hesitation.
Without awkwardness.
Buck hooks two fingers through Eddie’s belt loop and says easily:
“Yeah, sorry. He got there first.”
Eddie’s brain fully short-circuits.
The barista laughs.
Buck smiles politely.
Like he didn’t just alter Eddie’s entire chemical makeup.
Then Buck turns toward him.
And immediately pauses.
Because Eddie is apparently staring at him like he hung the moon.
Buck’s expression softens instantly.
“What?”
“You said boyfriend.”
Buck blinks once.
Then slower:
“…Yeah?”
Eddie feels ridiculous suddenly.
“No, I just…”
Buck goes warm all over.
Like sunlight.
“Oh.”
Then, because the universe hates Eddie specifically, Buck leans in close enough that Eddie can smell coffee and soap and Buck.
“You like that?” he murmurs softly.
Eddie wants to evaporate.
Chim appears out of nowhere.
“EW. Absolutely not.”
Buck flips him off without looking away from Eddie.
And somehow that tiny stupid act settles something deep inside Eddie’s chest.
Because Buck doesn’t hide him.
Not ever.
—
Unfortunately, the internet is still terrible.
The newest discourse apparently is:
Buck smiles more than Eddie.
Buck deserves someone softer.
Eddie looks intimidating next to him.
Buck’s “golden retriever energy” is wasted on a guy like Diaz.
Hen finds Eddie reading comments again during downtime.
“Oh, for the love of God.”
Eddie immediately locks his phone.
Too late.
Hen sits beside him heavily on the couch.
“You know what your problem is?”
“Several things.”
“You think if enough people say something cruel, it becomes true.”
Eddie stares at the dark phone screen silently.
Hen sighs.
“Eddie.” Her voice gentles. “Do you know what Buck looked like after that reporter showed up at the station?”
Eddie glances over reluctantly.
“Terrified.”
That twists painfully in Eddie’s chest.
Hen nudges his shoulder.
“You know what happened the second you stepped beside him?”
Eddie says nothing.
“He calmed down.”
The memory flashes immediately:
Buck’s shoulders relaxing.
The tension leaving his jaw.
Hen watches him carefully.
“That boy trusts you with every soft part of himself,” she says quietly. “You really think he’d do that if you weren’t good for him?”
Emotion lodges thickly in Eddie’s throat.
Hen snorts suddenly.
“Also, for the record, Buck looks at you like you invented happiness.”
Eddie groans weakly.
“I’m serious. It’s honestly embarrassing sometimes.”
That earns a reluctant laugh.
Hen smiles triumphantly.
“There he is.”
Apparently everyone notices when Eddie disappears into himself.
Buck especially.
—
That night, Buck corners him in the kitchen while Christopher finishes homework upstairs.
“You read comments again.”
Not a question.
Eddie sighs immediately. “Hen told on me?”
Buck narrows his eyes.
“Honey, I know you.”
Honey.
Jesus Christ.
Eddie’s heartbeat stumbles embarrassingly hard.
Buck notices instantly and looks unbearably pleased with himself.
“Oh, you liked that.”
“Don’t start.”
Buck grins and crowds closer anyway.
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m literally not.”
“Baby.”
Eddie hates how weak his knees go.
Buck beams brightly.
“This is incredible information.”
Eddie grabs Buck’s hoodie strings and pulls him closer just to shut him up.
Buck kisses him immediately.
Soft at first.
Then smiling into it.
Warm hands sliding around Eddie’s waist automatically.
By now kissing Buck feels dangerously addictive.
Like Eddie could spend hours doing this and still want more.
Buck hums happily against his mouth.
Then quietly:
“You know I’m obsessed with you, right?”
Eddie pulls back slightly.
“What?”
Buck looks genuinely confused.
“Eddie. I voluntarily watch golf with you.”
“That’s your argument?”
“Yes.”
Eddie laughs helplessly.
Buck’s expression softens immediately at the sound.
“I mean it,” he says quietly. “You know that, right?”
Eddie wants to.
He really does.
Buck studies him carefully for another second.
Then:
“Come here.”
Before Eddie can ask what that means, Buck pulls out his phone and opens Instagram.
Then, right in front of Eddie, Buck uploads a photo.
It’s from earlier at the coffee truck.
Eddie laughing at something off camera while sunlight catches against his face.
Eddie’s stomach flips instantly.
The caption reads:
Turns out the love of my life is also annoyingly handsome.
Eddie stares at the screen in horror.
“Buck.”
Buck looks smug.
“Buck.”
“What?”
“You cannot post that.”
“Too late.”
The comments start exploding almost instantly.
But Buck just tosses the phone onto the counter and wraps himself around Eddie again.
“Now,” he says happily against Eddie’s neck, “everyone online can be jealous of me instead.”
And the thing is?
For the first time since all this started, Eddie actually believes him.
The post breaks the internet.
Not metaphorically.
Actually.
By morning, Buck’s Instagram comments are full of people collectively losing their minds.
HE CALLED HIM THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE???
oh they’re REAL real
the soft launch became a marriage announcement
okay never mind i get it now
the way buck looks at him in candid videos suddenly makes so much sense
Eddie reads exactly four comments before locking his phone and staring at the ceiling in distress.
Beside him, Buck yawns sleepily and hooks an arm tighter around Eddie’s waist.
“Morning.”
Eddie turns his head slowly.
“You posted me.”
Buck blinks once.
Then smiles into the pillow.
“Yeah.”
“You called me the love of your life on the internet.”
Buck looks completely unbothered.
“You are.”
Eddie’s heart promptly forgets how functioning works.
Buck notices immediately.
His smile softens.
“Oh no,” he murmurs fondly. “You’re having feelings about it.”
“Buck.”
“You’re all blushy.”
Eddie hides his face in the pillow instantly.
Buck starts laughing.
Warm.
Sleepy.
Happy.
God, Eddie could listen to that sound forever.
Buck presses a kiss against the back of his neck.
“Good morning, boyfriend.”
Eddie groans weakly into the mattress.
This is humiliating.
Wonderful.
But humiliating.
—
The station is unbearable.
The second Buck and Eddie walk into the loft together, Chim slams both hands dramatically onto the table.
“LOVE OF MY LIFE?”
Buck points at him. “Don’t.”
Hen looks emotional already.
Ravi is openly grinning.
Bobby just looks tired.
“You two are making the internet worse.”
Buck looks delighted by this information.
Eddie wants to disappear into the earth.
Hen scrolls through her phone dramatically.
“Oh my god, wait. Someone made an edit.”
“No,” Eddie says immediately.
“Yes,” Chim says instantly.
Absolutely not.
Too late.
Chim turns the screen around.
It’s a montage.
Buck looking at Eddie during calls.
Eddie instinctively reaching for Buck’s turnout gear.
Them laughing together in the background of random station videos.
Set to a love song.
Ravi looks genuinely moved. “Okay, that’s kinda beautiful.”
Eddie wants to die.
Buck, unfortunately, looks emotional.
“Aw.”
“Buck.”
“What? They used our good angles.”
Hen squints at the screen suddenly.
“Oh my god.”
“What now?” Eddie asks warily.
Hen turns the phone around again.
A screenshot from an older interview clip.
Buck had apparently been asked:
“What’s your type?”
And without hesitation, Buck answered:
“Someone steady. Someone who feels like home.”
Then the edit cuts directly to Eddie.
The loft goes silent.
Buck’s face goes bright red instantly.
“Oh no.”
Chim looks like he’s ascending spiritually.
“YOU WERE IN LOVE THE WHOLE TIME.”
Buck hides his face with both hands.
Eddie can physically feel his own heartbeat.
Because he remembers that interview.
Remembers Buck answering carefully while Eddie stood just off camera.
God.
Buck really had loved him all that time.
Hen looks at Eddie and immediately softens.
“You okay?”
Eddie laughs shakily.
“Yeah.”
Except the truth is:
he’s overwhelmed.
Because for so long Eddie convinced himself he was difficult to choose.
And now Buck’s choosing him loudly.
Publicly.
Without hesitation.
Buck lowers his hands finally and glances toward Eddie carefully.
Still worried.
Still checking.
Like maybe Eddie might pull away again.
The realization hurts.
Because Buck’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Still braced for Eddie retreating.
Eddie crosses the loft before he can overthink it.
Then, in front of everyone, grabs Buck by the front of his hoodie and kisses him.
The entire station erupts instantly.
Chim screams.
Hen yells “FINALLY.”
Ravi nearly drops his coffee.
Buck makes a startled sound against Eddie’s mouth before immediately melting into it.
Warm hands grabbing Eddie’s waist automatically.
When Eddie pulls back, Buck looks dazed.
And unbelievably happy.
“There,” Eddie mutters, slightly breathless. “Now they can make edits about that too.”
Buck stares at him for one stunned second.
Then absolutely beams.
“Oh, you’re getting confident now.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
Too late.
Buck’s already glowing.
—
The shift settles eventually.
Mostly.
Until they get called to a rescue at a shopping center downtown.
The second they step out of the truck, a teenage girl gasps loudly.
“Oh my god.”
Buck freezes immediately.
The girl looks between him and Eddie with increasing horror.
“No way.”
Eddie already knows where this is going.
The girl clutches her friend’s arm violently.
“That’s THEM.”
Buck mutters, “Please no.”
Too late.
The friend squints at Eddie.
Then dramatically:
“Wait, you’re the love of my life guy.”
The entire 118 loses it instantly.
Buck folds in half laughing.
Eddie contemplates walking directly into traffic.
The girl points excitedly at Buck.
“You guys are all over my TikTok feed!”
Buck gestures helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s cute!” she insists immediately. “You guys look at each other like Disney parents.”
Eddie nearly chokes.
Buck looks delighted beyond reason.
Hen is openly crying laughing now.
The girls finally leave after taking a selfie with Buck and telling Eddie “don’t break his heart.”
Eddie stands there in stunned silence.
Then slowly turns toward Buck.
Buck’s eyes are sparkling.
“What?”
“You’re enjoying this.”
Buck grins.
“A little.”
Eddie narrows his eyes.
Buck steps closer casually while the others continue laughing nearby.
Then quietly:
“I like people knowing you’re mine.”
The words hit Eddie hard enough to steal breath.
Because Buck says it so easily.
No shame.
No hesitation.
Mine.
Eddie’s chest feels painfully full suddenly.
He grabs Buck’s hand briefly.
Quick enough nobody really notices.
Except Buck does.
Always.
Buck squeezes back instantly.
And for the first time in a long time, Eddie doesn’t feel like he has to compete with the rest of the world for Buck’s attention.
Because Buck’s already chosen him.
Completely.