I love you, kid.

“You’ve been distracted all day, Buck.” She gives him an unimpressed look. “Are you and Eddie still not talking about how you tackled him during a friendly basketball game?”

“I didn’t tackle him! It was more like… a mid-air hip check.”

Hen huffs and shakes her head. “You can take the boy off the football team, but you can’t take football instincts out of the boy, I guess.”

“Hip checking is hockey, not football,” Buck corrects her. “And to answer your question, Eddie and I did talk about it and it’s fine. He knows I just, uh, let my emotions get away from me during the game. I apologized for it. We’re good.”

“Then what are you all in your head about? Last time you were like this, it was when you were secretly contemplating donating certain bodily fluids to a certain former roommate and his wife. They didn’t ask you to help with baby number two already, did they?”

“No! I’m just—”

Buck breaks off with a wince. God, he’s not sure if he’s ready to tell anyone yet. He’s definitely not ready to make some big, dramatic announcement when he’s still trying to wrap his head around this. Not that he’s waffling about what it meant—the head-to-toe thrill that went through him when Tommy’s mouth collided with his. Buck recognized that sensation right away, with all the certainty of someone who’d accidentally touched a live wire. He’s not a kid, for Christ’s sake.

Talking about it—out loud—though. That’s a different story.

On the other hand, this is Hen. Who better to unburden himself to than her? And then maybe he’ll be able to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing here, at work, and save his personal mess for after the shift ends.

“Okay,” he begins, pulling Hen gently by the arm out into the parking area. “Okay, but please don’t tell anyone. I mean, anyone. But especially not Chimney.”

“All right,” Hen says slowly. “What did you do?”

Buck takes a deep breath. “I kissed Tommy.”

“You what!?”

“Well, he kissed me, actually. He came over to clear the air, because he was afraid he was the cause of some bad blood between me and Eddie. You know, since they’ve been spending so much time together, and it was driving me… Uh, I’m not proud of that, either.” Buck runs his hand over his mouth and pushes on. “Then we were talking, and he said he’d teach me Muay Thai if I wanted, and then the next thing I knew, he was just… going for it.”

“Wow,” Hen says simply, and even though Buck can’t bring himself to look her in the face right now, he can tell she’s genuinely shocked. “Wow, I guess you really never can tell with some people. Not that Tommy and I were ever especially close, what with the way things were when I first arrived at the 118. Huh.”

Buck stops himself from telling her that this conversation is supposed to be about him, not Tommy. Honestly though, it hadn’t occurred to him until this moment to think about whether Tommy is out or not. That’s not cool, Buck chastises himself.

“Uh, yeah that’s probably another reason this should just stay between us for now. We didn’t really talk about whether it’s okay for me to tell people. About him.”

Hen raises her eyebrows. “But you did talk, didn’t you? He didn’t just run off or something?”

“We sort of talked? He asked me out on a date. Saturday night.”

“And you said…” Hen prompts.

“Yes,” Buck tells her, with a whooshing exhale and a grin. “I said yes.”

“Okay, then. Good. So what’s the problem?”

She’s looking at him with that mix of patience and exasperation that he knows too well. Like he’s being dense.

“The problem is that I’m thirty-two years old, Hen! It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to me that I—” Buck lowers his voice to a loud whisper. “That I’m into guys, too. Like, don’t most people just know? While they’re growing up?”

Hen reaches over to squeeze his arm. “Not necessarily. There are plenty of good reasons why some people don’t figure it out until they’re older. Sometimes much older than thirty-two, by the way. There aren’t any rules here, Buck. Everyone has their own path to get there. But… you are there, you think?”

“Oh, god. Yes.” Buck gives a small laugh, just lets it bubble out of him. It’s like opening a valve, releasing the pressure inside of him. “I’m one-hundred percent there. No doubt in my mind at all.”

“That’s wonderful. Even so, give yourself some time to process it, okay?”

“I will. But, uh, how long does processing take?” Buck asks helplessly. “I feel like I’m back in that hurricane. There are about fifty different emotions hitting me from all directions right now, and it’s kind of hard to function.”

“That’s just the nature of the beast, I’m afraid. It’s a scary thing, having that big revelation about yourself and figuring out what it means for your life.”

“I’m not scared. More like… in a daze. Every time I think about it, it knocks me back again. And then I think about tomorrow night and I start to get all jittery. Nervous. Cause I’ve never done this and I have no idea how to go about making a guy like me.”

“He already likes you, if he asked you out, right?” Hen says. “So focus on that. Anything else?”

Buck considers it, tries to loosen the tangle of feelings that’s filling up the whole of him right now and lay them out in an orderly way. Hen doesn’t rush him.

“It’s just a lot,” he says eventually, giving up on putting it into words, “and I kinda wish I could switch off my brain for a while.”

“I’m sure. Trust me, all those messy, upsetting emotions will settle down, and then you’re gonna feel really good about it.”

“Oh, I already do,” Buck reassures her. “I mean, I did last night even, right after it happened. And now, still. Just kind of… illuminated on the inside. That sounds weird, doesn’t it?”

Hen shakes her head, then puts her arms over his shoulders and jerks him into a tight hug. Buck returns it gratefully, glad to find an anchor in this crazy day, at last. When Hen speaks again, close to his ear, her voice is uncharacteristically wobbly.