Later, Eddie wonât be able to put his finger on what, exactly, finally did it.
Maybe itâs the fact that they're nineteen hours into their last shift before their seventy-two off, the firehouse still and quiet the way it always is when it's so late at night it's wrapped back around to being too early.
Maybe itâs the fact that they're nineteen hours into a shift that feels like it's lasted more than twice that, each call dragging on into monotony, his muscles tense with an anticipation that's had no outlet.
Or, maybe just itâs seven years of them finally catching up to him, stacks of evidence piled so high that he can't pretend not to notice them anymore. It's a steady presence watching his back, offering a hand almost before he can ask for it. It's evenings spent on the couch, dinners cooked and dishes washed side by side. Itâs fun facts and wordless glances and countless days of shared blood, sweat, and tears, every moment adding up until the banks of his heart threaten to overflow with it.
All Eddie knows for sure is this: he wakes up in the bunk room in the middle of the night, his heart racing from an already-forgotten dream. He reaches out instinctively, squinting out at the bed across from his own, but he already knows that it's empty.
He throws back his blanket and rolls to his feet, creeps past the rest of his sleeping teammates, and slips out the door.
Buck isn't hard to find, not that he ever isâat least, not for Eddie. He's sprawled out on one of the couches in the loft, decked out in his LAFD sweats and hoodie, his head on the armrest and legs stretched out over the cushions, thumbing lazily through the pages of his latest book.
"Hey, Eds," he murmurs, glancing up at him with a small, sleepy smile. Eddie feels his shoulders soften, a tension he didn't realize he was holding melting away, and his feet carry him forward.
âWhatâre you doing up?â
âCouldnât sleep,â Buck says, but itâs his distracted-by-a-hyperfixation voice, not his my-bad-legâs-bothering-me-but-I-wonât-admit-it voice. Sure enough, he continues, âIâm halfway through this book, itâs this tell-all memoir by a Facebook whistleblower. I looked it up and apparently Zuckerburg did everything he could to bury it, the author wasnât allowed to publicly promote it or anythiâ oh," he finishes quietly, soft and startled.
Which is fair enough, given that Eddie's crawled up his body and flopped right on top of him, a leg thrown over his hips and an arm across his chest, tucking his face into the curve of his shoulder.
He feels Buck's breath shudder through his lungs, feels his heartbeat pick up just a little. Then a warm hand settles over the back of his head, fingers raking carefully through his hair.
"Oh," Buck says again, a little wondrous. Like Eddie's something worthy of wonder. He nestles closer, sinks deeper. "Are we doing this now?"
Eddie lets out a long exhaleâit tastes like relief, and maybe a little wonder of his own.
"Yeah," he answers just as quietly, twisting one of the strings of Buck's hoodie between his fingers. "We're doing this now."
"Okay," Buck says, like it's really that simple.
Maybe it is. Maybe it can be.
Buck's other arm curls around his back, cradling him close. Eddie feels himself relaxing in increments, lulled by unspoken safety of Buck's hold, the familiar smell of his skin, the gentle thud of his heartbeat beneath his ear.
It makes him brave enough to ask, a hushed plea, "You know, don't you? You know?"
A brush of pressure against his foreheadâsweet and understanding.
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If we are getting a bi Buck dating montage, it absolutely needs to end with a date being like, âhey, so⌠you seem like a great guy but I donât think this is gonna work out, youâre clearly still in love with you ex.â Buckâs like, âđ¤¨đ still in love with my ex??? đ¤¨đ¤đ Iâm notââ âyou should reach back out, maybe you and Eddie can try againâ and we get to see Buckâs brain start buffering in real time as he realizes heâs spent every one of these dates waxing poetic about Eddie
Buckâs scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of grease when a long line of heat settles along his spine, a pair of arms wrap around his middle, and a forehead lands between his shoulder blades. A pulse of heat rushes through his veins, and the pan heâs holding slips from his fingers and falls back into the sink with a splash!
âEddie?â Buck croaks, because it could only be Eddie curled around him like a shadow, sure of his welcome and a little shameless with it. âYou, uh⌠You good?â
Eddie snuffles closer, his stubble prickling against the back of Buckâs neck as he scents him. He drags his nose down the tendon of his throat, then buries his face in the curve of his shoulder, sagging against him with a sigh.
âBetter now,â he rumbles, in the same rough sort of voice he falls into first thing in the morning when he hasnât had his coffee yet. Buck shifts his feet, automatically widening his stance to take more of his weight. âJust neededâŚâ
A long, deliberate inhale. Buck valiantly resists a shiver. âSmells good in here.â
âLasagnaâs in the oven,â Buck offers in a tight, breathless voice. âShould be done soon.â
Eddie huffs out a laugh: low and raspy, the sound of it whispering gently past the shell of Buckâs ear. âSure. The lasagna.â
Oh, for fuckâs sake.
âYou are such a dick,â Buck hisses, his face flushing red-hot. âYou couldnâtâveâ I am literally elbow deep in dirty dishes, Eddie.â
Eddieâs arms tighten around him. âDonât let me stop you,â he says.
Buck bows his head beneath the falling water, his ribs shuddering around a shaky exhale.Â
Heâll pull himself together eventually. Slap a smile back on his face and remember how to be grateful for what he already has.
But first he needs to mourn. He needs to mourn and mope and shed a tear or twenty: then he can bury these stupid feelings and finally put them to rest.
Maybe itâs time to re-download Bumble and Hinge, make a proper effort at getting back out there and moving onâ â
The bathroom door slams open with a bang! Buck whips around so fast that he nearly loses his footing, then nearly keels over anyway when he realizes itâs Eddie standing there amongst the clouds of steam.
Eddie, whose chest heaves like heâs just run a marathon, his hair a mess and his shirt only half buttonedâ âlike heâd hauled ass out of the locker room in the middle of changing. Eddie, whose expression is granite but whose eyes are wild, his irises totally eclipsed by burning crimson, that spiced-dark-chocolate-char scent rolling off of him like thunderclouds sweeping in over the horizon.
They stare at each other for one long, charged moment. Buck can barely meet his eyes; thereâs something almost feral prowling in the shadows of his gazeâ âsharp and accusing, honed like a knifeâs edgeâ âand it cuts him all the way to the core.Â
Buckâs throat clicks around a nervous swallow, his pulse pounding in his ears.
âEddie,â he says, almost helplessly, more of a breath than a word.
Eddieâs nostrils flare, his upper lip curling back to flash a single, pointed canine. Then heâs wrenching open the shower door and stepping determinedly into the sprayâ âstill fully dressed, boots, belt, watch and all, what the fuckâ is he?â âand he braces a hand on either side of Buckâs waist, caging him up against the shower wall.
âEddie!â Buck yelps, suddenly and extremely aware of the fact that heâs bare-ass naked, soap dripping down his arms and conditioner clinging to his curls. He clutches his hands to his chest like that will somehow mask the aforementioned nakedness. âWhat the hell are youâ â? Hey!â
âDid you actually think,â Eddie starts, and his voice has settled in this gravely, dangerous place thatâs making Buckâs stomach do somersaults. âThat I wouldnât come after you?â
âYouâ Câmon man, youâre getting soaked. Did you even take your phone out of your pocketâ ââ
âYou didâ ,â Eddie decides, continuing as if Buck hadnât spoken, anger and disbelief dueling across his features. âYou thought I was gonna just let you goâ ?â
âJesus, Eddie,â Buck sighs, letting his head thunk back against the tiles, already exhausted with this whole conversation. âCanât this at least wait until Iâm out of the fucking showerâ ââ
âClearly it fucking canât,â he growls, and he cups both of those huge hands around Buckâs jaw and yanks his head back down, forcing him to hold his gaze.
âBecause last time I checked, we were in this together,â Eddie saysâdemands, really. Water streams through his hair and down his face in dozens of rivulets, his wet clothes clinging to every sodden, gorgeous inch of him. âThatâs the deal, right? You have my back and I have yours. You go in and Iâm right there on you six. Iâm the one on the other end of your radio, Iâm the one that double checks your harness, Iâm the one that anchors your line.â
Theyâre plastered together: a tangle of water and limbs, fabric and skin. Buckâs mouth moves soundlessly, his voice trapped somewhere beneath the weight of his longing, but even if he could say something he wouldnât have the words. Static blurs the edges of his vision, his mind emptied of anything that isnât Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
âThere isnât a universe where I donât come after you, Buck,â Eddie tells him, with all the force and certainty of gravity itself. âIâd have to be dead in the fucking ground before Iâd let you go, and maybe not even then. Because youâre mine. Youâre mine,â he insists when Buck canât help the involuntary little noise that escapes him at the declaration. âAnd youâre out of your goddamn mind if you think Iâm going to let you spend another second thinking I donât want you.â
Buckâs heart stops dead in his chest, then kicks in again twice as fast.Â
âEddie,â he manages, barely able to hear himself over the sound of the shower pouring overhead. Thank god heâs already got a wall at his backâ âheâs not sure his legs would support him otherwise, hope turning his joints to jelly. âYou⌠Donât do this if you donât mean it. I canât⌠I canât.â
Eddie shifts impossibly closer, angling up until their faces are a hair apart. Their noses brushâ âa gentle, almost exploratory touchâ âfollowed by a solid press of forehead against forehead.Â
âIf you still donât think I mean it,â he murmurs, his eyes burning like twin flames. âThen you clearly havenât been listening to me.â
A shared breath.Â
âMaybe this will finally convince you,â Eddie says, and he leans in and seals his mouth over Buckâs own.
âSir, if youâre unable to climb out on your own, then we need to hoist you up,â Bobby says. âYou canât stay in your current position without injuring yourself further.â
âI donât need help, Iâm fine!â Dangling Dude yells back. Heâs still slowly spinning. âItâs not like Iâm the one that called you! Mind your own business!â
Bobbyâs mouth twitches, then flattens out.
Stepping back from the ledge, he tells them, âBuck, harness up, Eddie go with him and prep a line, a backboard, and a basket. We canât assist him while heâs combative and refusing help, but if the situation escalates youâll have to climb down to himâ . Hopefully, we can talk some sense into him before it comes to that.â
âCopy that, Cap.â
They move like a well-oiled machine. Eddie goes hunting in the ambulance while Buck fastens himself into his harness, grabbing a coil of rope from the compartment while heâs there, and they meet back somewhere in the middle for their usual safety check.
It goes harness and helmet first, then attach the line and gear bag, then one last check on the helmet for good measureâ âBuck lost one to a flash flood once, three years ago and Eddieâs never let him hear the end of it.
âThink theyâll be able to talk him down?â Buck asks as Eddie traces along the lines of his harness.
âNot a chance,â Eddie scoffs. His palms skim over Buckâs chest and down his sides, pausing every now and then to adjust a clasp or shift something into place, his brow furrowed in concentration. âHeâs gonna argue with them right up until he passes out.â
He gives Buck a quick little tap-tap right over his sternum.
âI donât know, man,â Buck disagrees, obediently turning so Eddie can check his back. âI think theyâll manage. Bobby and Hen could convince me of almost anything.â
âWell, yeah,â Eddie says. âBut thatâs mostly because youâre a textbook people-pleaser and extremely susceptible to peer pressure. Theyâll have a harder time convincing some rando.â
âWhaâ Iâm not susceptible to peer pressure!â Buck splutters.
âItâs a genuine miracle that baby-Buck made it all the way to Peru and back without getting abducted or accidentally joining a cult.â
âOkay, asshole, Iâm not that bad!â
âSure,â he drawls out. âRemind me, which one of us let himself be talked into buying three boxes of Thin Mints heâs never gonna eat, and which one said âNo, thank youâ and kept walking, like a normal person?â
âThey were out of Trefoils!â Buck protests. âAnd I promised Iâd buy a box on the way out of the store.â
âUh-huh. And what about the other two boxes?â
ââŚThey were very persuasive.â
Pointed silence. Buck can almost feel the eyebrow Eddieâs raising at him.
âYou know, entrepreneurship is one of the focal tenets of the Girl Scouts program,â he tells him, pretending like he canât feel the flush creeping down his neck. âSo, if you think about it, by buying cookies, Iâm actually offering a crucial opportunity to hone their business acumen. Iâm nurturing growing minds, Eddie.â
âOf course,â Eddie says loftily. âMy mistake.â
He taps again, this time between Buckâs shoulder blades, and with a huff, Buck turns back to face him
âOh, donât pout,â he teases. âIâll eat your Thin Mints for you.â
ââM not pouting,â Buck pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. âAnd I already put them in your freezer.â
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Buck doesnât get a chance to talk to Eddie again until theyâre loading up to head back to the station.
Heâs already outside waiting on him, seemingly nonchalant as he leans against the side of the truck, but thereâs a quiet tension pinching at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
Buck doesnât keep him waiting long.
âHey,â he starts. âThanks for, uh, stepping in back there. I tried my best to shake him off, but I guess some people are determined not to take a hint.â
âMore like determined not to hear âno,ââ Eddie grumbles, but his gaze loses some of that tight, flinty edge. âGot your back, man.â
âI know you do,â Buck says, bumping their shoulders together.
Eddieâs nose wrinklesâadorably, but you didnât hear it hereâand leans more of his weight into the press of their shoulders.
âHe touched you,â he says unhappily. It isnât a question.
âUh, yeah,â Buck admits, ducking his head. âJust a little bit, I dodged when he tried toâ umââ He takes one glance at Eddieâs expression and quickly pivots. âSorry if I, like, stink or whatever, I know your nose is super sensitive. Iâll hop in the shower when we get baââ
The rest of the sentence dies on his tongue because Eddie reaches up and wraps aâwarm, calloused, fucking hugeâhand around the hinge of Buckâs jaw, then drags it purposefully down the column of his throat.
âThere,â Eddie says, his voice pitched low. âThatâs better.â
âYeah?â Buck wonders, another rush of yes, alpha, yes, good, mine flooding his hindbrain.
âYeah,â Eddie agrees, the tips of his fingers brushing featherlight against his pulse point as he pulls away. He hops up into the cabin, then glances back over at Buck. âYou coming?â
Buck shakes himself out of his stupor. âRight behind you.â
Later, Buck will swear up and down that this all couldâve been avoided if Eddie had just opened his mouth at any point and said something.
âIt was pretty fucking obvious, tonto,â Eddie grumbles, an arm slung over his waist and his nose nestled against the curve of Buckâs throatâ âwhere itâs been for the majority of the last thirty-six hours. âYouâre just oblivious. Or blind. Orâ ââ
âShut up,â Buck says, pulling him closer.
But to recap, Buckâs just arrived at the firehouse for his shift and the knowledge that Eddie wonât be joining him already has him grumpy and irritableâlike an itch between his shoulder blades that he canât quite scratch.
Heâs really not looking forward to whichever floater heâs stuck with this time. The last guy thatâd come in couldnât coil his ropes or roll a hose for love or money, and heâd spent most of the shift cleaning up after him. So itâs a genuine surprise and delight to find Eddie sitting in the locker room when he walks in, already in his uniform.
âHey!â Buck greets, feeling himself perk up like a freshly-watered plant. âWhatâre you doing here? I thought your leave started today?â
âBobby called,â Eddie says, double knotting the laces on his boots. Heâs forgone the gel today and a swoopy piece of hair falls over his forehead. Buckâs heart jolts in his chest. âWhittlerâs partner went into labor just after midnight, and Ginsburgâs still in Cabo until Tuesday, so he asked if I could push it back a day.â
âBad luck,â Buck sympathizes, digging through his locker. Heâs almost positive heâs got a spare uniform buried in here somewhere⌠yep, there it is. He muffles a yawn against the back of his hand, then tugs the t-shirt heâs wearing over his head. âYou gonna be okay out there? I know how you get.â
He senses more than sees the face Eddie makes at that.
âYeah, well, it is what it is,â he says. âThankfully Iâd already made arrangements for Chrisâheâs at Pepaâs until itâs over, and Carlaâs helping coordinate his schedule. Iâve got some supplies left over from last time, but if I canât make it to the store before it hits, Iâll just get groceries delivered.â
Now itâs Buckâs turn to make a face.Â
âNo, you wonât, donât lie,â he chides as he does up the buttons on his shirt. âText me a list, Iâll drop off some stuff for you.â
Eddie huffs out a breath. âIâm pretty sure I can manage an Instacart order, Buck.â
âYou can but you wonât,â Buck counters. âPre-rut Eddie gets territorial when the mailman comes by, youâre definitely not gonna eat anything delivered by a stranger.â
Which is absolutely true, by the way. Itâs honestly kind of adorable how worked up he gets: all grouchy and growly, stomping around with that little furrow between his brows.Â
âI canâ ââ
âEddie,â Buck says, glancing over his shoulder and fixing him with his sternest look. Eddieâs nostrils flare, his spine straightening like heâs about to jump to his feet and stand at attention. âCome on, man, donât be stubborn. Let me help you.â
He fastens his nametag to his chest, does one last spot check on his hair, and shuts his locker with a click.Â
âMaybe if youâre really nice to me, Iâll even swing by that place over on Lawrence with those egg rolls you loveâ ââ
And anything else heâd been about to say is lost because when Buck turns around, itâs to find Eddie standing right behind him. Like, literally right behind himâ âHow the fuck did he sneak up on him?âa fierce glint in those warm brown eyes.
Before he can do anything other than blink stupidly at him, Eddie pushes him up against his own locker: a full body press, chest to hip to thigh. He nuzzles in close, rubbing a stubbled cheek all over Buckâs throat.
âE-Eddie?â Buck stammers, his voice cracking right down the middle. His skin is buzzing with staticâlike someoneâs overloaded the circuit breaker for his heart, sending pulse after pulse of electricity through his veins. âWhatâre you doing?â
Eddie laughs, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into Buckâs, oh god. âTake a wild guess.â
âAre you scent marking me?â
âPre-rut Eddie gets territorial,â Eddie says, echoing his earlier words, curling a hand around Buckâs hip. âWhat makes you think youâre an exception to the rule?â
âUm.â Buck has no idea whatâs going on right now. Unsure of what else to do with his hands, he ends up settling them gingerly on Eddieâs back. âIâm⌠not?â
âExactly,â Eddie says, like theyâve come to some kind of agreement. He cranes up until he can tuck himself into the space under Buckâs jaw and inhales with a deep, contented sigh. âWhy arenât you wearing your blockers? I could smell you coming the moment you walked into the vehicle bay.â
âI am wearing blockers,â Buck tells him, trying hard not to do something utterly mortifying like whimper or beg or pass the fuck out. Every one of his instincts is screaming at him to bare his throat to the attention, his head swimming with yes, yes, good, please, alpha, yes. âAnd, uh, actually, did you know that an alphaâs olfactory senses can become up to eighty percent stronger in the three days leading up to their rut? Itâs to help them stay in tune with the needs of their pack and mate throughout their cycle.â
âYeah,â Eddie muses, and he reaches up and undoes the top two buttons on Buckâs shirt, pulling his collar open and nosing at the newly-exposed skin. Buck chokes back a whine by the skin of his teeth, his knees threatening to buckle out from underneath him. âThat tracks.â
He nuzzles even closer, then says, âGod knows I need every advantage I can getâ âkeeping you is a full-time job.â
Buckâs mouth is painfully dry.Â
âYou mean, uhâ ââ When did it get so fucking hot? âYou mean k-keeping up with me?â
He can feel the shape of Eddieâs smirk against his throat. âSure, that too.â
They arrive on sceneâa grassy, fenced-in playground teeming with children and familiesâand are immediately met by a frantic young woman.
âOh, thank god,â she says, a huge diaper bag thrown over one shoulder and her arms filled with screaming toddler. âI swear, I looked away for, like, two seconds, Jaime was crying and I couldnât figure out where their mom packed the juice boxes and when I looked back, she was halfway upââ
âWhatâs her name?â Bobby interrupts.
âHarper,â she says. âSheâs right over hereââ
And sure enough, there in the far corner of the playground is a tall oak tree, and about twenty feet up that tree is a little girl. Sheâs maybe seven or eight at the most and clinging tightly to a branch, her face streaked with tears.
âHey, Harper,â Bobby calls, calm and steady. âWhatâre you doing up there?â
âIâm stuck!â she wails.
âI can see that,â Bobby says. âAre you hurt at all?â
ââM okay,â she sniffles. âBut itâs too far, I canât get down!â
âHey, thatâs alright, weâre gonna send someone up to come get you. You just sit tight and keep holding on, okay?â Bobby tells her. âWeâll get you down from there in no time.â
âNo way we get the ladder in here,â Chim observes, pulling off his sunglasses. âWeâre fenced in on all sides and the trees are too close together to get a good angle from the curb.â
âHowâd she even get up there?â Ravi wonders, squinting up at her. âNo way sheâs tall enough to make the jump up to that first branch. Iâm not tall enough to make that jump.â
âNever underestimate the ingenuity of a determined elementary schooler,â Hen says wisely.
âI can climb up to her,â Eddie volunteers.
He moves closer to the trunk, knocking against the bark to check for soft spots, but it seems simple enough, as far as he can tell. Itâs a healthy tree with lots of thick, sturdy branchesâplenty big enough to hold steady beneath his weight
âYou sure?â Bobby asks.
Eddie shrugs. âYeah, I got it. I just need aâ a boost or a chair or something to get started, but Iâll be fine after that. Then she can hold on to me while I climb back down.â
He glances around, searching.
âMaybe we can drag that picnic table over andââ
âHere,â Buck says, stepping up behind him.
He fits his hands around Eddieâs hips, a long line of heat against his back.
âWhat are youâ?â
Eddieâs feet leave the ground and all thoughts leave his head.
Buck lifts him like itâs not even hard, like he could do this all day, not a hint of strain in those massive biceps. Eddie fumbles clumsily for the branch, all the blood in his body rushing south so quickly he almost goes dizzy with it.
âEddie?â Buck prompts, lifting him just a little higherâlike maybe the problem is that Eddie canât quite reach. Jesus, he doesnât even sound winded.
âRight,â Eddie mutters, pulling himself the rest of the way up. âUh huh, yep.â