#buck fluff

You were never enough — not for the parents who raised you, not for the version of success they carved out long before you had a say.

They wanted you in a white coat or behind a desk in a pristine office with your name etched in gold on the door.

Doctor. CEO.

Something to brag about at parties, something that didn’t involve dirt-stained boots or adrenaline-fueled sirens screaming through the city.

But that was never you.

You were the one who ran headfirst into chaos, hands steady, heart louder than logic.

You were the paramedic on the front lines — saving people, stitching lives back together in the middle of a street, on the floor of someone’s living room, beneath flickering streetlamps at 3AM. You were the kind of woman who found herself in the mess, not behind a polished title.

And when you weren’t holding someone’s pulse in your palm, you were sketching out the day on the back of call sheets, painting the quiet between shifts, listening to music the way some people listened for meaning.

Your mother never liked that either.

“You’re hiding behind your hobbies,” she used to say. “You could be someone if you just tried harder. You look like someone.”

She always said that like it was a curse — like beauty meant you owed the world something performative. Like being seen was more important than being whole.

But you had built yourself up — brick by stubborn brick — from the ache of being overlooked. And in the firehouse, with the roar of engines and the quiet camaraderie of those who understood, you had finally found peace.

Especially in him.

Buck wasn’t just a fellow firefighter.

He was your calm in the storm. He was the one who didn’t flinch when you unraveled, the one who saw past the version of you shaped by pressure and criticism. He never tried to change you — only reminded you of who you already were.

The girl your parents tried to remake… she didn’t survive the shift.

But the woman standing in her place? She carried trauma, yes — but she also carried purpose. Family. The kind that came with turnout coats, inside jokes, and a seat saved at the station table.

And most days, that was more than enough.

Until they came back.

The sun hadn’t fully broken over Los Angeles yet, but the city was already humming — slow and sleepy in some corners, chaotic in others.

Buck had his usual iced coffee in one hand, his keys in the other, and your favorite breakfast sandwich tucked into a brown bag he pretended not to make a big deal about.

You teased him for it every time, but the way he shrugged and smiled like it was second nature made it harder and harder not to fall for him again each morning.

“You still deny I’m your favorite,” he grinned, handing you the bag as you slid into the passenger seat of his truck.

“You’re not my favorite,” you said, already biting into the sandwich. “You just bring good food.”

Buck smirked. “That’s basically the same thing.”

It had been a slow, quiet thing between the two of you. Not the blazing, dramatic romance people wrote songs about — but something softer.

Healed.

It came after the long nights, after the therapy sessions, after the breakdowns and the breakthrough that came after.

You weren’t looking to be rescued anymore. Neither was he.

Instead, you’d built something steady — like muscle memory, like breath.

You woke up, met him outside of your apartment, showed up to work, made fun of each other in the locker room, rolled your eyes when Hen caught you smiling too wide.

It was comfort. It was ease.

And lately, it felt like the kind of thing you could build a life around.

At the station, the team had already claimed their seats in the kitchen — Hen nursing her coffee like a lifeline, Chim flipping through a magazine he probably had no intention of reading, Eddie snorting at something Ravi said under his breath, and Buck sliding into the seat beside you.

“You gonna eat both of those pieces or are you feeling generous today?”

“Generous, with you? Never,” you shot back, pushing your half-finished plate toward him anyway. He beamed like you’d just handed him gold.

Bobby walked in mid-laugh, muttering something about the last shift’s messy truck logs, before giving you both a nod.

You felt a flicker of gratitude settle under your ribs — like maybe this was your real beginning. Like the ghosts from your childhood didn’t have a place at this table anymore.

Then your phone buzzed.

It was a simple vibration at first. One you ignored.

Then another.

Then a third.

You reached into your hoodie pocket without thinking, glancing at the screen as Buck leaned over to grab the creamer behind you.

Mom.

Dad.

No message. Just the names lighting up your screen in tandem, like they were waiting to be let in again.

You froze for a second too long.

“You okay?” Buck asked, catching the shift in your posture.

You nodded quickly, sliding the phone screen-down onto the table. “Yeah. Just spam.”

“Spam with your last name?” Hen raised a brow, sipping her coffee. You shot her a subtle glare that only made her grin.

Buck didn't press, but his eyes lingered a second longer than usual, quietly clocking the change in your mood.

You forced yourself to laugh along with the team as Chim started mocking something Ravi said, but your head was miles away.

You hadn’t seen your parents in a little over a year and a half. Not since the last screaming match that ended in a slammed door and a one way plane ticket back to LA without looking back.

They’d always wanted you to be someone else — and for a long time, you thought if you just tried hard enough, you'd become that person. But you had come a long way since then.

You weren’t a project anymore. You weren’t unfinished.

You were someone now.

And yet, all it took was one notification to make your stomach twist like you were seventeen and living under their roof again.

Buck gently nudged your knee under the table.

“You sure you’re good?”

You looked at him — really looked — and for a moment, you wanted to tell him everything.

How scared you were to open that message. How tired you were of being molded into someone else’s dream. How the life you had now felt fragile suddenly, like it could be taken away the second you let the past back in.

But the moment passed.

“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

Buck watched you carefully, like he didn’t believe you — but also didn’t want to push you before you were ready. Instead, he smiled softly and handed you the last bite of your sandwich.

“Well, wake up. You’ve got another twelve hours with my charming self.”

You laughed — because it was easier than crying — and took the food from his hand.

“Lucky me.”

But in the back of your mind, the messages waited.

And you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to decide whether to open the door… or finally close it for good.

The call wasn’t heavy, not in the way that stuck to your skin for days. A minor traffic collision, a few broken bones, a scared kid who wouldn’t stop clinging to Chimney until his mom arrived.

It was the kind of run that made your heart squeeze in a different way — the kind that reminded you of everything fragile about the world.

You were quiet on the way back. Buck noticed.

You knew he did because his eyes found you in the rearview mirror more than once, flickering between the road and the crease between your brows.

Back at the firehouse, everyone scattered.

Hen went to check inventory in the rig, her clipboard in hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear. Eddie was helping Ravi clean out the squad, their laughter drifting faintly through the open bay doors.

Bobby had vanished into his office, probably knee-deep in the usual mountain of paperwork. Chim was in the kitchen, half-singing under his breath as he prepped dinner for the shift.

And Buck?

Buck waited.

He always waited — not in a way that hovered, but in a way that reminded you he’d be there when you were ready.

“Wanna go up?” he asked gently, nudging your elbow.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant.

The rooftop had become your shared place. A quiet, liminal space above the chaos — where the world slowed down just long enough for you both to breathe.

You nodded.

The city stretched around you, a sea of lights blinking to life against the late afternoon haze. Traffic buzzed below like static, and the sky was turning the soft kind of orange that only LA could pull off.

You sat beside Buck, your shoulders brushing, your knees tucked to your chest. For a while, neither of you spoke.

You just leaned into his side, and he draped an arm around you with practiced ease, his hand rubbing small, absent-minded circles into your back.

“I promised,” you finally murmured.

Buck tilted his head, watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Promised what?”

“No secrets. That I’d talk to you.” You swallowed thickly, staring at your fingers. “They texted again. My parents.”

His hand stilled on your back.

You didn’t look at him yet. You weren’t ready for the weight of that gaze.

“They… they’re here. In LA.”

Buck stayed quiet, which somehow gave you the space to keep going.

“I thought they were just passing through. I didn’t want to make it a big deal. I told myself I’d just ignore it. But then they sent this message and said they wanted to talk. That they’d been thinking about me. About everything.”

You laughed — a short, bitter sound.

“And part of me wants to believe it. That maybe people really can change. I mean… look at you. Look at Maddie. Even your parents. They’re trying. The Hans too. And it made me think — if they can change, why can’t mine?”

Buck’s arm pulled you a little closer, his voice quiet.

“Because yours hurt you. Not just once. Not just in passing. But over and over again.”

You turned your face into his chest, the soft fabric of his hoodie muffling your thoughts.

“They hated who I was,” you said.

“Not just what I did — not being a paramedic, not choosing a job where I get to help people every day — but who I was. I liked art. I liked movement. I liked not needing their permission to be myself. And they said it made me selfish. Undisciplined. Unlovable.”

Buck’s hand cradled the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently at your temple.

“You’re not any of those things,” he whispered.

“You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had. And the most real person I know.”

You breathed in, grounding yourself in his scent — laundry detergent and smoke and something unshakably him.

“But it still hurts,” you admitted.

“Even after all this time. Even when I tell myself I’ve built a life. That I’m good. That I’m okay now. All it took was one message and suddenly I feel like I’m fifteen again and nothing I do will ever be enough.”

Buck exhaled slowly, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“You’ve come too far to let them take that from you.”

“But what if they really mean it this time?” you whispered.

“What if they want to make amends? What if I don’t even give them the chance?”

Buck didn’t answer right away. He waited, thoughtful, like he was measuring his words carefully.

“I used to think that too,” he said.

“When I went back to my parents’ house that time… I wanted so badly for it to be different. I wanted them to see me. The version of me I worked so damn hard to become. But the thing is — it’s not about them. It never was.”

You looked up at him slowly, heart pounding in your chest.

“It’s about what you need to feel safe. To feel whole,” he continued. “And you already built that. You don’t need to let them back in to prove you’re healed.”

He brushed your hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your jaw.

“But if you do let them back in… do it for you. Not because they suddenly remembered how to be parents.”

That cracked something open in you.

For the first time in hours, you let the tears fall — quiet, cathartic, and honest. Buck didn’t flinch. He just held you tighter, kissed your forehead, and waited with you on that rooftop like he always did.

And in that moment, you knew something with perfect clarity:

You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You weren’t trying to earn love from people who only ever saw you as a reflection of their own regrets.

You had a home now — not in a place, but in people.

In Buck. In Hen. In Bobby. In Chim. In Ravi. In Eddie. In the family you chose at the 118.

And maybe — just maybe — that was more than enough.

At first, it was fine. Or at least, it looked fine.

The meeting with your parents was held in a neutral place — some polished brunch spot on the West Side with cold-pressed juices and overpriced eggs.

They hugged you like they meant it. They said they missed you. They even asked about your job, your friends, your life.

You let yourself hope. Just a little.

But it didn’t take long for the cracks to show.

“You look tired,” your mom said, peering across the table. “Are you still not using concealer?”

A laugh followed, as if she’d just made a joke. You forced a smile.

Later, your dad — swirling his coffee absentmindedly — asked, “So… are you really planning to stay a paramedic forever?”

Your heart dropped like a stone.

“Not that we don’t respect what you do,” he added quickly, as if softening the blow.

“It’s just… there’s more out there. You’re smart. You could still go back to school. Do something that really stretches you.”

You gripped your fork too tight.

“I like what I do,” you answered, steady and restrained. “I help people. Every single day.”

They didn’t argue. But their silence screamed louder than words.

That was the beginning.

The comments didn’t stop. They just evolved — small, needling remarks that made you second-guess the things you’d worked so hard to reclaim.

“You know, if you just dressed a little differently, you'd look even more put together.”

“This haircut is cute, but the last one made your face look slimmer.”

“I still think you’d do well in PR — you’ve always had a nice smile.”

They cloaked it all in faux concern, under the guise of caring. But what they were really doing was trying to remake you into something they could understand.

Someone more acceptable. More palatable. Less you.

You thought you could handle it.

You thought — after everything you’d survived, after years of therapy, after finding love and home in the 118 — that you were immune to their power.

But you weren’t.

Not entirely.

You didn’t tell anyone. Not even Buck.

You kept coming into work with a smile on your face, your uniform pressed, your voice steady. You carried your gear like it weighed nothing, even when your shoulders ached from the stress you weren’t admitting.

But the little things gave you away.

You started zoning out during debriefs — just for a second or two — like your mind had floated somewhere else.

Somewhere darker.

You’d stopped lingering at mirrors in the locker room, dressing quickly, avoiding the impulse to check your reflection.

Even compliments from Hen or Chim started to land wrong — twisting into something warped by the things your parents had said.

And worst of all: you skipped breakfast. Sometimes lunch, too.

You didn’t mean to. You just weren’t hungry. Or maybe you just didn’t want to hear that quiet voice in your head — your mother’s — telling you to be careful about portion sizes.

Buck noticed.

Of course he did.

He noticed how your uniform hung differently. How your laugh didn’t reach your eyes. How you hadn’t touched your smoothie after a call and shrugged it off with “I’m just tired.”

He watched you push food around your plate at dinner. Watched you duck out of team photos when Bobby tried to snap one for the wall. Watched you smile through gritted teeth like your jaw was wired shut.

And Buck — for all his light and warmth — knew darkness when he saw it.

One night, after a long shift, he waited until everyone had gone. You were packing your things in the locker room when he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“You ever gonna tell me what’s really going on?”

You froze.

“Because I know you,” he continued softly. “And you’re slipping.”

You turned around slowly, blinking too fast.

“I’m fine, Buck.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, moving toward you.

“You haven’t been fine for weeks. You barely eat, you’re constantly somewhere else in your head, and you flinch when anyone compliments you. That’s not you. That’s not the you I know.”

You swallowed hard, looking at the floor.

“I didn’t want to make it real,” you admitted. “I thought… if I didn’t talk about it, it wouldn’t stick.”

Buck’s hands found your shoulders, gentle and grounding.

“Talk to me. Please.”

And that was when the dam broke.

You told him everything — about the comments, the small jabs, the way your parents had managed to reopen wounds you thought were healed.

You told him about the fear creeping in, how you’d started second-guessing the body you’d learned to love, the career you were proud of, the face you saw in the mirror.

“I fought so hard to feel okay again,” you whispered. “And now I feel like I’m back at square one.”

Buck shook his head and pulled you into his arms, cradling your head against his chest like he could shield you from it all.

“You’re not back at square one,” he said.

“You’re not that person anymore. You’re stronger now. But even strong people break a little when the right people push the wrong buttons.”

You let yourself sink into him, into the warmth, into the truth of his words.

“They don’t get to take this from you,” Buck said, voice low.

“Not your peace. Not your joy. Not the life you built for yourself. Because you built it with your own hands. You didn’t wait for anyone’s permission — not theirs, not mine, not anyone’s.”

You nodded into his chest, your tears soaking the fabric.

And he held you, quietly and completely, until the shaking stopped.

From up here, at the firehouse rooftop, the hum of L.A. traffic was just white noise — distant, forgettable.

You were wrapped in Buck’s arms, your head resting against his chest, his hoodie warm against your cheek.

The call earlier had shaken you a bit — not because of the trauma or the chaos, but because you'd caught your own reflection in the fire truck window, and for a second, all you saw was her.

Your mother’s voice echoing in your ears: you’d look so much prettier if you just fixed your posture.

You thought maybe saying it out loud would break the spell. So you did.

And Buck just… listened.

Now, he shifted, his hand gently stroking your back, voice low and steady.

“You know,” he began, “I spent a long time trying to be what my parents needed.”

You blinked up at him, and he was staring out at the skyline — not avoiding you, just thinking. Peeling open old scars.

“I was the ‘fix-it’ kid. If something was wrong, I’d jump in. Be the distraction, the helper, the good one.” He let out a short, mirthless laugh.

“Didn’t matter how much I gave. It was never enough.”

You watched him carefully, feeling your chest ache for the boy he once was.

“They didn’t see me, not really. Not until Maddie left, and even then… it was like I only existed through what I could do for them. Not who I actually was.”

His voice softened, eyes flicking back to yours.

“You’re not alone in this.”

Tears threatened again, but you bit them back.

“I thought they changed,” you whispered. “I thought maybe… maybe if I let them in, they’d see me now — the real me. Not the one they wanted me to be.”

Buck nodded.

“That hope? I know it too well. But Y/N… healing isn’t about letting the people who broke you walk back in just because they might be better now.”

He took your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

“You don’t owe them another piece of yourself. Not after everything you’ve done to become you.”

You looked at him, really looked — and saw not just the man who loved you, but the one who had clawed his way out of the same kind of shadow.

“The 118 — Hen, Chim, Bobby, Eddie… they see you,” he continued. “They respect you. They love you. Hell, I love you.”

You let out a shaky breath, and Buck cupped your cheek with his free hand.

“You built a life from the ground up. You stood in fire and didn’t flinch. If your parents can’t see that? That’s not on you.”

Silence settled around you again, the kind that didn’t need filling.

And for the first time in weeks, your shoulders relaxed.

Because Buck was right.

Your family wasn’t something you were born into. It was something you chose.

And the 118 — this loud, messy, brave, wonderful crew — had chosen you back.

Every single time.

It was their last night in L.A.

You sat across the dinner table from your parents in a sleek West Hollywood restaurant — the kind they would’ve approved of, with overpriced salads and polished silverware.

You’d even worn something nice, soft makeup, hair tucked back just the way your mother always said looked “less messy.”

And yet, nothing you did ever seemed to be enough.

They were smiling — that brittle, curated smile they wore in public. They made small talk about your “little job” and asked again if you'd considered going back to school, becoming a doctor like you “originally said you would” when you were fifteen.

You tried to laugh it off, to steer the conversation away.

But then came the line.

Your mother, wine glass in hand, leaned across the table with a too-sweet smile and said,

“You’re too beautiful to hide behind that uniform forever, sweetheart. You could be something more — if you just tried.”

That was the final crack.

Your chest tightened, your fingers clenched around your water glass, and all the work — all the healing, the therapy, the hours at Station 118 saving lives and rebuilding your confidence — it all teetered on a ledge.

“Do you even hear yourselves?” you said, quietly at first.

Your father looked up, startled. Your mother blinked, taken aback.

“I’ve been doing everything I can to build a life — my life — and all you see is who I’m not.”

Your voice wavered, but you didn’t stop.

“You wanted me to be a doctor. Or a businesswoman. You hated that I loved art, that I found purpose in helping people. You hated the way I looked, dressed, existed. And now, you come to L.A. for three days and want to shape me all over again?”

Silence fell over the table.

“I’m not going to dinner with you again,” you said.

“This… is the last one.”

Your mother’s mouth opened to object, but you were already rising to your feet, grabbing your coat.

“I have a family. A real one. One that sees me. I’m not throwing that away just to be palatable to you.”

And then you called an Uber, knowing your parents would take your car anyway because that’s how much they disrespected you.

You didn’t cry until you reached Buck’s apartment.

He didn’t ask any questions. He just opened the door, took one look at your face, and pulled you into his arms.

You sobbed into his hoodie, fists clinging to the fabric, your knees nearly buckling with the weight of years of resentment and grief. He held you through it — no words, no pressure.

Just presence. Just Buck. Your Buck.

Eventually, you ended up outside — sitting in the back of his jeep at the beach, wrapped in one of his flannel shirts, your head leaning on his shoulder as the night breeze swept around you.

Your voice was hoarse when you finally spoke.

“I’ve spent so long trying to be who they wanted. I didn’t realize I’ve already become someone I’m proud of.”

Buck turned his head toward you, his fingers lacing with yours.

“I’ve always been proud of you,” he said, with that soft kind of certainty only Buck had when it really mattered.

“Even when you didn’t see it. Even when you were still hiding parts of yourself.”

You sniffled, leaning into him more.

“They were supposed to love me unconditionally.”

“They didn’t,” Buck said gently. “But we do.”

The next morning at the firehouse, you told Bobby everything.

You expected a lecture, maybe a reminder to show grace — but instead, Bobby reached out and placed a steady hand on your shoulder.

“Family doesn’t come with conditions. You’re one of us. And we’re not going anywhere.”

Hen brought you coffee. Chim cracked a terrible joke that made you laugh through your puffy eyes. Eddie gave you that silent nod of solidarity he only reserved for moments that mattered. Ravi slipped you a cookie from the pantry with a wink.

And Buck?

Buck just stood beside you, hand in yours.

No longer your anchor.

Now your entire world.

----------------

I was walking down the hallway of my apartment building to grab my mail from the mailbox in the lobby, looking like a hot mess. I never thought I would meet a cute boy there, so here I was, slept in comfy clothes, hair stinky and tangled from not being styled yet and my slippers that I had thrown on before I left my apartment. I got to the lobby and unlocked my mailbox, shifting through all the mail. Bills, ads, coupons, of course nothing exciting. I shut the door and turned around, looking at the deals they had on food for the local grocery store, when I heard papers fall to the ground and a loud sigh.

My eyes flicked up from the paper, to see a younger man on crutches trying to lean over and grab his mail. I shoved mine in my armpit and ran over and crouched to the floor to pick them up and hand them to him.

“I think these are yours.” I said, reaching my hand out.

“Thank you, I literally could not have done that without you.” The man laughs. When I look up, I’m met with the most beautiful blue-green eyes. He can’t be any older than 30. I nearly choke when I realize I wasn’t breathing… or talking.

“I-uh, i’m sure you could have, if you did the splits or something.” He laughs and it shows his beautiful smile, damn.

“You just moved in, right? I think you're across the hall from me. I’m in 112.”

“That would be correct, 113.”

“Well 113, I’m Riley.”

“Buck. Actually, Evan, but I mostly go by Buck.” We shake hands and smile at each other.

“Are you going right back to your apartment? I’ll bring your mail down for you.”

“That’d be great, it is just paper but believe it or not it’s super hard to hold things while on crutches.” He said as we started making our way down the hall to our apartments. He slips a little halfway down the hall but manages to catch himself.

“Like your body weight?” I giggle and Buck gives me a smirk in return. “How did you break it anyway?”

“A fire truck crushed it.”

“Like one of those toy ones?? You seriously need to workout.” He laughs again. I don’t even know what i’m saying at this point, just anything to get a laugh out of him.

“No, like one of those real ones.” He says. My face falls in embarrassment.

“Shit, Buck i’m sorry, you probably think i’m a terrible person and you just met me.”

“Hey, you didn’t know, it’s all good.” He smiled understandingly. “I’m a firefighter, down at the 118, not that that means anything to you. My team and I were on a call and there was a bomb on the truck that we didn’t know about, it was this whole thing and I was in the front seat, the truck exploded, flipped, I was thrown out and the truck landed on my ankle.”

I looked at him in disbelief. By now, we had made it the short distance to our respective residents.

“Wow, that sounds crazy, i’m really sorry Buck. Any... casualties?” I asked.

“No, thank god. We all lived and I just came out with this.” He said, opening his door and stepping inside.

“Well, uh, thanks for telling me about your traumatic life event in the 5 minutes that you’ve known me, here’s your mail and you know where to find me if you need anything.” I smile and turn to open my own door. Just as I'm about to unlatch it, Buck speaks up.

“Actually… I’m uh. I’m off the job right now and I don’t get many visitors. Do you wanna come in, hang out for a while?”

The question takes me by surprise. I turn around, ready to run inside of his apartment and get to know him more. And then I remember the way I look, the way I smell. All the time I have today is to shower and get ready to work. I have to turn him down. Dammit.

“I… would love to, Buck but. As you can see, I look like a mess, and I actually have to work today.” He shakes his head looking down about to head inside when I speak up this time. “But- if you’ll still be awake around 10:30-11, i can pick up a pizza on my way home and we can hang out then?”

His face brightens up and he smiles. “I will be very lonely but for you, i’d take a late night over no night.” He says and waddles into his apartment and shuts the door.

--------------

I grab the pizza out of the counter and thank the worker behind it, pushing my way through the door and out to my car. It was even earlier than I thought, 10pm, work being super slow. I rush home and run through the lobby down to my apartment, hurrying to unlock my door and sneak in, hoping Buck didn’t hear. I threw my things on the table and the pizza in the oven, that was off, but hoping it would keep it warm for a few extra minutes. I run to the bathroom, turning the water on to wash the sweat from the day away. I dry off as quickly as I ever had. I threw on a comfy bra and some sweats and pulled my hair into 2 dutch braids, slipped on some socks, grabbed my phone and the pizza and ran across the hall.

I situated myself before knocking on the door. It takes him a minute to get there because of the crutches.

“God you took so long, I think the pizza got cold.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” He said, moving to the side so I could come in, shutting the door behind me.

“I hope you like just pepperoni cause that’s all they had.”

“That's’ okay, I’ll eat anything with carbs.”

“Does Pizza have carbs?”

“I think so? Beer?”

“Yeah.” I giggled, setting the pizza on the table and walking to the kitchen to help. I find some paper plates and grab the beers out of his hands.

“Is this what you do? Prey on the crippled?”

“No, I saw someone in distress and he just happened to be funny too, so I thought we could be friends.” We sit down on his couch and dig into the pizza.

“Well you came along at the perfect time.” Buck said.

“So tell me about yourself, Evan Buckley.” I smirked, taking a sip of my drink.

“Well, I grew up in Pennsylvania, with my mom and dad and my sister. Super close with my sister, super distant with my parents.” He says, sort of sad, but also with a hint of joking.

“You seem... pretty okay with that.”

“My parents are good people, just not good parents, as my sister has always told me. They just were never there.... emotionally, I guess? There’s a pretty big age gap between me and Maddie, 9 years, so she pretty much raised me.”

“I’m sorry, Buck. I can’t imagine how that feels... but that’s amazing that you have your sister. I love the name Maddie. Does she live around here?”

“Mhmm, she moved here a little over a year ago after her divorce and now she works as a 911 dispatcher downtown. And yeah, it’s pretty great. We’ve worked out a lot of things since she got here and I think we’re closer than ever.”

I smiled, finishing up my slice.

“So helping people just runs in the family?”

“Well even though she’s older, I was a firefighter before she was a dispatcher so if anything, she copied me.” I laughed. “Do you have any siblings?”

I grabbed another piece of pizza. “I do. 3 brothers. 2 older, one of them is actually my twin.” His eyes went wide.

“Awesome, I’ve always thought twins were cool. Are you guys identical?”

“Fraternal, thank god. If he looked just like me, I would scream.” We both laughed. “We’re from Michigan, I'm the only one that lives out here. I moved out here about a year ago as well to go to school.”

Buck smiled and nodded while swallowing another piece almost whole.

“So does your girlfriend live here too?” I said. Buck almost choked on his pizza when I said that.

“Sorry, uh what?”

“Oh sorry, I just saw you guys when you were looking at the place and when you moved in, you were handsy and I just assumed she was your girlfriend. And I am here pretty late so I was just curious if she lived here.” I mumbled, embarrassed for asking.

“No, no it’s okay.” He reassured me, putting his hand out to comfort me. “Ali, she was my girlfriend. Not for very long. She never lived here. We were together when the truck fell on me and she just couldn’t handle that lifestyle.”

“I’m sorry, Buck.”

“Nah it’s okay. She was great but just wasn’t, the one.”

------------------

6 months later.

Time flew by. After that night, Buck and I exchanged numbers and texted as friends all the time. We hung out every Saturday night and had pizza and popcorn and watched movies and talked. We had more in common than I thought and Buck was so sweet and funny. We never stopped laughing. It was like we were made to meet. We had become close in that short amount of time, he told me everything that happened with Maddie and her ex. He introduced me to everyone at the station, Maddie, Chim, Hen, Bobby, Athena and of course, his best friend Eddie and Christopher. I helped him through the stress of his lawsuit with the city and the aftermath trauma from the Tsunami.

The night I felt us get really close, was when he opened up to me about his struggle with sex addiction and about Abby.

I had opened up to him about being a virgin at 22.

It was nice to have Buck as a friend but I couldn’t help thinking of him as more. More than just a pretty face and a sexy body.

After Buck got his cast off, I promised him we would go to Disneyland, since he had never been. We invited Eddie and Christopher as well, knowing Christopher would be ecstatic to go. We were walking down a street in New Orleans Square, Buck alongside Christopher, picking the next ride to go on that was safe for him. Eddie and I were trailing behind, when I decided to open my mouth.

“Buck really is amazing with him.”

“Yeah, i’m so lucky to have a best friend who loves my kid like his own. I never thought I would have that.”

“He’s going to be a great dad to his own kids someday.”

“Are you volunteering as tribute?” Eddie joked.

“What?? Why would you say that?”

“Because you're crazy about him! I can tell by how you look at him, how you are with him. You’re so into him.”

I looked down at my shoes, kicking them on the ground.

“Is it that obvious?”

Eddie laughed. “I mean, I don’t think he’s caught on but, yeah, the rest of us can tell.”

I smiled, blushing when I looked up at Buck and Christopher in line at the Haunted Mansion, waving to us. Eddie and I waved back.

“It was just nice that when we met and we exchanged numbers and started to hang out, it was just as friends, I didn’t need to feel pressure for it to be anything else if it wasn’t supposed to be that way.”

“I know Buck feels the same way. Most girls throw themselves at Buck because of how he looks. No one cares to get to know what's underneath..”

“Until Abby.”

“Bingo. And even now, he still has trouble, both with himself and with others. He’s always wondering if they still want him for his body and he’s worried he’ll give in. But I know with you it’s different. He’s crazy about you.”

My head whips up and looks at Eddie.

“He is? W-what? Are you sure, you’re not mistaking it for just being friendly?”

Eddie laughs at my nervousness. “No, no Riles, I promise. He never shuts up about you, he talks about you more than he mentions weird natural disasters and we both know that he could talk about those forever.”

I think to myself for a minute, wondering how someone as amazing as Evan Buckley could want some stick in the mud like me.

“I know what you're thinking.” Eddie speaks up. ‘You’re not boring. I don’t think so at least, and I for sure know Buck doesn’t.

“What if he’s still hung up on Abby?” I blurt out. Eddie looks at me, knowing that would probably be another insecurity of mine.

“Riley,” Eddie sighs, “Buck was head over heels for Abby. She was the one who helped him realize he is not just a piece of meat.”

I sniffle a little bit, Eddie’s speech not helping.

“But- He is absolutely crazy, insane, i can’t even think of another word for it, for you. I know he didn’t tell you this cause he told me not to mention it to you but…Abby was in town last month. She was on that huge train that derailed.”

My eyes started to water more. “Great, are you going to tell me that they’re back together?”

“Are you not listening? Look, he was in shock at first. But she’s engaged, married now. She has 2 stepdaughters, a family. They met up after and said their peace. She’s his past, your his future. Just tell him how you feel. Please. I want you two to be happy and I know you would be a million times happier if one of you idiots tells the other.”

Eddie started to laugh when I started to giggle through my tears.

“Thank you, Eddie. You're a really good friend.” He pulls me in for a hug. “You and Christopher deserve someone amazing too.” I smiled, pulling away.

“Yeah, I know. We’ll find her someday. But for now, we have you and Buck.”

Just then, Buck and Christopher return from the ride, smiling and laughing and we continue the rest of the day at the amusement park.

------------

The next day, Buck had a shift and I had the day off. I had slept on what Eddie had said and decided I was going to tell Buck tonight how I felt. I bought a nice pair of jeans and some cute sandals and a pretty top, trying to dress up a little but not too much. I ordered his favorite take out and texted Eddie. He told me they were on a call but would probably get back to the station about the same time I would.

I parked my car and got out, bringing the food inside. Just as I was about to walk up the stairs, I heard the trucks pulling in. I stood there with a bright but nervous smile on my face. They all got off the truck, smiling as they walked past me. Buck was the last to walk up to me.

“Hey Buck.”

“Hey.” He said, sort of coldly. “What’s up?”

“Well, I uh. I just… I have something I wanna talk to you about and I got your favorite take out.” I smiled.

He looked at me, an odd mood coming off him. “You wanna talk to me about what?”

“Well, it’s sort of something I want to do in private.”

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of everyone.”

My face became heated, embarrassment creeping up. “Buck, I-”

“What? Do you think I don’t already know?”

“Already know what?”

“That you and Eddie are fucking.”

My face went white.

Eddie’s face went white.

Everyone else's face dropped.

“What-”

“Yeah, you think I don’t know. I really thought we kinda had something going you know, we were friends and we were kinda flirty and I thought maybe soon we could go on a date. But then after I saw you two being so close yesterday, I knew you were probably fucking my best friend.” He said, pushing past me.

“Buck, what are you-”

“And now you wanna rub it in my face, by telling me formally with my favorite food. Forget it, Riley.”

The tears were streaming down my face at this point, not caring who saw or that all my make up was ruined. I turned on my heel and ran out of the station, throwing the food in the trash on the way out.

I drove home and changed into my sweats, taking what was left of my makeup off. I crawled into bed and tried to fall asleep, but my phone kept going off.

Eddie:I’m so sorry that happened.

Eddie:I should have known, he’s been cold toward me today too.

Eddie:I should have told you not to come.

Eddie:I’ll try to talk to him.

Bobby:I’m sorry that happened, kid. I’ll tell him that was totally unprofessional and reprimand him for it.

Hen:If you need anything, let me know. Call me or text me, hun.

Chim:What an asshole.

Athena:Bobby told me what happened, tell me when and i’ll go arrest him.

I threw my phone back on my nightstand after shutting it off and turned over in my bed, crying myself to sleep.

--------

I heard a loud bang that woke me from my sleep. I jumped up and looked at the clock.

2:27am

I figured it was just someone next door and then I heard it again. I wandered downstairs slowly, hearing it for a 3rd time, realizing it was coming from my front door. I went over and looked through the peephole, seeing it was Buck standing on the other side. I sighed, preparing myself to fight again, swinging the door open.

“Evan I really don’t want-”

I was cut off by his pair of soft lips on mine. I was taken aback at first, trying to process that he was kissing me and not yelling at me. I felt his bag drop to the side and both his hands find their way on my back. He pulls away after a few seconds.

“Kiss me back.” He whispers.

“But Buck-” I slightly moaned.

“But what? I know you want to.”

“But i’m still pissed at you.” I pushed him away. “I do want to kiss you, Buck, more than anything. But I tried to tell you how I felt tonight and before I could even say anything, you started to scream at me and accuse me of sleeping with Eddie, when you damn sure know i’m still a virgin and you’re going to be the one to take my virginity and you do it in front of the entire firehouse, embarrassing me and you think you can just come here and kiss me and everything will be fine? Hate to break it to you Buck, we’re not in a romance movie.”

Buck looks at me for a minute. “You want me to be your first?” He tilts his head to the side, smirking.

“Seriously? That’s what you got from that?” I said. Buck smiled and grabbed my waist, leading me to the couch. We sat down together and he started to speak.

“Riley, I am so sorry about what I did tonight. I cannot believe I acted that way. I just got so furious thinking that you were into Eddie after all the time I spent gushing about you to him and him encouraging me to tell you how I felt and then just feeling like I was betrayed. I took my anger out on you, on both of you and I am so so so sorry. I will spend my entire life trying to make up for it. I will totally understand if you don’t wanna go out with me anymore but I would love to take you on a date and try out this whole relationship thing between you and me.” He said.

I thought about it for a minute, turning away from him. I knew I was going to forgive him, knowing his apology was sincere. He got up from the couch and started to walk towards the door. Just as he opened it, I got up and spun him around, kissing him back. He was the one in shock now. I pulled away, “Kiss me back.” I giggled. He looked at me for a second before attacking my lips. We kissed for a hot minute before pulling away.

“I should have done that forever ago.”

“Yeah you should have.”

“You looked beautiful tonight, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I’m sorry I ruined it.”

“Take me out on that date and I’ll get all prettied up again.”

Buck kissed me again, smiling. He intertwined our hands together, rubbing his thumbs on top of mine.  

“Okay, well. I should go to bed and let you sleep, I'll see you tomorrow?” he says walking out the door. I pulled him back swiftly.

“Or… you could stay?”

He gave me a questionable look.

“We’re not horny teenagers and I think we like each other enough that we’ll be able to withstand it until we’re ready.” I said, our foreheads touching, hands running up and down each other.

“I think I'm still a horny teenager but I would wait forever for you.” Buck said, kissing my forehead.

I locked the door behind him and put his stuff down on my couch. I led him up to my bed and watched him strip down to his underwear. I practically drooled at the sight of his body. I had only seen him shirtless a handful of times and as much as I loved his personality, his body was still amazing. We pulled back the covers and cuddled up under them. He wrapped his arms around my back, giving my forehead and cheeks soft kisses, as I snuggled up into his chest, falling asleep quickly.

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispered.

Maria, a friend of ours had this confusion then proceeded to ask me, "Buck is here, I don't know why you're still waiting for a cab? You two are basically a couple without being in a formal relationship?" I rolled my eyes to her.

"Am I right, Buck?" She shouted over Buck even though he didn't know what are we talking about.

He nodded and shouted back at me, "Y/N, get in the car."

"As if I have a choice." I mumbled as I walk over the Jeep.

I said my goodbye to Maria and she's happily teasing the me and Buck. I don't know why people kept seeing us so compatible to each other because right now, I can't even see it.

I stand in passenger side of his Jeep, "Hey, thank you for doing this, I don't even know that you're still in the station at this time." He smiled and God forbid those smiles. "Can you open up the back, I could just sit over there." I pointed it because I'm refusing to seat beside him.

He looked over at his back, "It's kinda messy over there, I got my stuff for the gym earlier. It'll be better if you'll seat over here." He pointed at the passenger side.

"I think I can do that," he smiled again, "I mean, I can sit at the back."

"It's really messy in there Y/N. I wished I cleaned it up before passing you here because I would if I just know that you'll be here. And it's pouring hard so you better get inside." He opened the door and a backed away. I climbed over the passenger side to settle this little argument.

"Where can I put my umbrella? It's literally dripping." I asked him.

He points at his back seat and it's really messy. "Put it in the back."

He started driving away from the station, he offered me a bag of Cheetos and even if I wanted some I declined his offer. Buck started casual talk but it really ends up in my yes, no or maybe.

"Do you still have grocery at your home? Because the last time I was there it was almost empty."

Well, he's not wrong. He spend a night in my apartment four days ago as we watch The Office again.

"I still have some. I'll probably just order a takeaway tonight." I said in a monotone voice.

Then, it's a dead silent. It felt like five minutes before he start speaking again.

"I heard you're gonna have a five day off, where are you going? Are you gonna visit your parents in New York?" He asked as if he dropped a million dollar question.

"No and not to be rude, Buck. It's none of your business." I put my airpods in my ear to shut whatever he's gonna talk.

He sighed deeply as he saw me doing that. I kept my head leaned over the window watching the raindrops race over the end.

*****

He parked his car adjacent to the door, I settled myself before opening it. I put my phone and airpods at my bag, "Thank you so much for driving me home, Buck and I'm sorry that I'm mean earlier I'm just not in the mood."

"It's Evan and it's okay I understand, Y/N."

I opened the door and hop out, "Drive safe." Usually it followed set of words, 'call or text me when you're home.'

And he usually answers, "Yeah, I'll text you when I'm home." and he does this time out of habit even if I didn't ask for it.

*****

I had different shifts from Buck after that day he dropped me home, he also did text me that he arrived home safely that night but I didn't reply, I left him on read. And fun fact I'm flying over London tonight for my mini vacation.

"So, London, huh?" Maria asked me as I settled my things I had the night shift the past few days so I had the chance to hangout with Maria.

"Yeah. It'll be good." I said in British accent. I tied my hair into pony tail before grabbing my things.

"I hope you have a wonderful vacation over there dearie."

"Yeah, I will." I walked over my car unlock it from a far when someone grabbed my free hand.

"Hey, I got you coffee to compensate your all nighter duty." Buck said as he handed me a venti Starbucks cup. "It's Vanilla Latte." He smiled.

"Thank you." I said confusingly. He's acting weird like he normally fo everyday.

"You're welcome and actually if you can remember I want to grab something with you so I can say something to you. Maybe right now, like breakfast?" Buck asked as if we're actually okay and its making me mad.

"No, I have something to do today." I replied plainly.

"Something much more better than me, mmm, Y/N." He said playfully.

"Buck, stop this."

"Evan, call me Evan." He insisted.

"I'll be flying to London tonight and I need to pack up my things, I'm sorry if I can't. And please stop acting that we're okay because we both know that we're not, Buck."

And now, he's totally angry. "I want to talk to you so bad because I want to explain things and after all you're gonna leave like what Abby did to me. It felt like everyone is leaving me, Y/N and you're the last person I expected to do that."

It felt like I'm burning up, I catch my breath before answering him, "I'm not like Abby, Evan. Okay. Don't compare me to her. That's it, get over it. Get over her. Find yourself and I'll go figure out what the hell is happening with me in London. I needed this time off so you don't have the right to tell me those words you said to me."

I opened my car and threw my bag at the back as I settled the coffee in the cup holder. He held the door to keep it open, "I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean it."

*****

I'm at the airport right now waiting my flight to board.

"All passengers from BA 798 bound to London this is your pre-boarding announcement -"

"Y/N!" Someone called my name, panting. I looked around to see Evan catching his breathe. "I'm glad I still catch you here." He hugged me tightly.

"Is everything okay? I mean how can you be at this area if you don't have a ticket." I asked him.

"I bought a ticket for Kansas tonight and I’m not even flying there just to pass through because I need to tell you something before you go." He uttered those familiar words.

"I know I fucked up that I didn't get over to what I felt with Abby because I kept a promise to wait for her but when you came into my life it drifted away but I'm not gonna lie as soon as I saw her that night it all came back even if I didn't want to because I'm finally happy. I saw pain in your eyes when you both saw us and it felt like I personally planted a knife in your heart to have those look in your eyes. I wanted to pause everything at that time to explain things to you but I couldn't they needed our help. Then, the day after the incident you avoided me, I thought it might be a temporary thing but it didn't. Yes, I met her that day also too, so I could settle whatever is left in here for her" he pointed in his heart. "And when you heard that we agreed to see each other that day, I see the pain doubled in your eyes. Abby, went here with his fiance to tell her relatives that they're going to get married in June, I met Sam too, her fiance I actually saved him at the incident, I may be lying if I'll say now that I wasn't hurt when she say that she'll be married but I did a little, then, I think about you Y/N. I think about everything that we had for the past year and especially the last few days before you start ignoring me," he giggled, "it's much more special and wonderful than what I had with Abby and it was so wrong to compare you to her this morning and again, I'm sorry."

"At this time we invite our business class customers to board the aircraft." The boarding gate agent announced and I hesitantly looked at my watch to check what time it is.

"I'm actually called?" I told him.

"Please stay for a while, I'll finish this up in a minute or two." I nodded.

"Because of the situation we didn't actually do as what we planned that night grab a breakfast or something and me telling you something and right now, you're going to London and I couldn't afford to have those five days passed away from you without knowing this, I love you Y/N more than anything. You mean the world to me and if I could just fly with you tonight I would but I can't, Captain said we will be short staffed. So, yeah, I love you and I want to spend my days with you annoying you, loving you and caring for you."

When he finished saying those words, I teared up and hugged him tightly as I savor those words in my head.

"All passengers for BA 798 bound to London kindly board your flight now at gate 22."

"Hey, I think you're being called for your flight."

You sink further into the tub, a sigh of contentedness leaving your lips. Just as your eyes begin to close your phone buzzes again. You grab it and read the message. ‘Send me one more pic. I have another two hours before I can get home to you.’ Stifling a giggle, you snap a photo of your legs resting atop the edge of the tub and send it his way. ‘Longest two hours of my life,’ is his reply, followed by, ‘you better be awake when I get home…’

Deciding to leave him hanging you enjoy the rest of the warm water, allowing the bubble bath to do its magic. By the time you get out you’re softer than a baby’s bottom and very relaxed. You put on Bucky’s tee shirt and get into his bed, cuddling into his pillow so you’re enveloped in his smell.

He gets home around 2 am, quietly shuffling into his room to find you peacefully asleep in his bed. The blinds are still open, and the light of the moon reflects off your glowing skin. Bucky sits at the edge of the bed, delicately tracing his fingers over your bare shoulder. Brushing some hair from your face he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth just as it curls up into a smile.

You roll onto your back and blink open your eyes, tugging on his arm so he lays down. “Hi beautiful,” he whispers as his hands smooth over your silky skin. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I was just…” You silence him with a kiss, any excitement over your idea momentarily forgotten.

For once Bucky sleeps later than you, his bare feet slapping against the floor and jolting you from your thoughts. “How long have you been up doll?” You run over to him and throw yourself into his arms. He easily catches you, peppering your face with kisses. “I made coffee. BUT IT’S SO BAD. So now you have to make coffee.” You give him a sorry look, pushing yourself up and onto the counter while he starts a new pot.

Minutes later he hands you a cup, the delicious, hot liquid warming you from head to toe. “Ok, now that we’ve both had a sip of edible coffee and I can concentrate on what you’re saying rather than trying to get you naked, let’s hear it!” You almost spit out your coffee at this last comment, shaking your head in amusement. “Ok, so. Eeeeeeeee, ok, this coffee isn’t helping, I’m practically buzzing!” you say before you jump down from the counter.

Pacing the floor, you chew your bottom lip as you try to get your thoughts in order. To Bucky’s credit he waits patiently, sipping his coffee quietly and letting you do your thing. “Alright. So, I hate to sound all about myself, but everyone really liked the pie last night, right?” Bucky agrees with no hesitation. “And grandma, you and Nat went nuts over my chocolate chip peanut butter cookies, yes?” Again, Bucky nods enthusiastically, smiling big. “And you and grandma really loved my chocolate pie and chocolate chip cookies?”

Bucky gently grabs your shoulders, bringing you into his chest and looking you straight in the eyes. “Yes, yes and more yes. Your baking is amazing and there is no doubt that everyone agrees.” You can feel the blush creep up your cheeks, your head dropping to hide in Bucky’s chest. Feeling the rumble of his laugh makes you smile, his finger hooking under your chin to bring your eyes to his. “I mean it.”

With a kiss you continue. “Thank you. So, if you guys like it there is no reason that other people wouldn’t like it. What if we added a café or bakery to the bookshop? Or both! I realize that it will cost money and right now that’s the problem. But I haven’t really thought all that through yet. However, I think if we add the baked goods and maybe even coffee and hot chocolate and stuff like that it could draw in more of a crowd. Also, you have a bartending license. Maybe we can do poetry slams and/or trivia nights. We can serve drinks and treats and charge at the door.”

Your hands are flying every which way and you’re talking a mile a minute, your enthusiasm warming Bucky’s heart and making him fall even more in love with you. It isn’t until you’re out of breath and he’s finished his coffee that you finally slow down. “Well?” He stares at you for what feels like forever before he puts down his cup and takes you in his arms.

“I love you. And I love your idea. I definitely think we have some things to figure out and a lot to go over but together I think we can make anything work.” You shake your head yes, too many emotions welling up inside you to speak. You simply press your lips to his and tell him everything he needs to know.

Later that morning you head home to do laundry and clean up, missing Bucky the moment you walk through your door. Luckily, he had the idea to stay over at the bookshop tonight and sleep up in the secret attic space. To say you were excited was an understatement.

You pack a light bag and head over to meet him, but not before grabbing the tin of chocolate chip peanut butter cookies you baked earlier as a surprise for him. The bookshop is closing just as you arrive, and you smile at the customer who is leaving. Bucky runs around the cashier counter and plants a firm kiss on your lips.

“Hi. Missed you.” You shove the tin into his hands and say, “I was just about to say the same thing. I made you something.” Bucky’s eyes widen as he starts to open the tin, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling the delicious peanut butter and chocolate smell. “You made me more?” he asks, face still half inside. “Yes, and you can eat as many as you want, as long as you share with me.”

Popping one into his mouth he gives you a thumbs up, placing the tin down and turning the sign to closed and locking the door. “The pizza just got here 5 minutes ago, and they gave us paper plates and everything.” Your mouth waters at the mention of food. “Ok, great. I’m starving. I have water and more snacks too. Are we eating upstairs?”

Bucky nods, taking the cookies and pizza and walking toward the back. When you get up the stairs and open the door you’re surprised to see that Bucky has hung a small string of star lights over the love seat and made a pile of blankets and pillows in the middle of the floor.

“Aw Buck, it looks so beautiful and cozy! This is going to be so fun.” The two of you settle on the floor surrounded by the pizza box and snacks, your feet touching while you dig into your first slice.  “You have some sauce right there,” Bucky says, leaning in to brush his thumb over your bottom lip. You take his thumb into your mouth and suck off the sauce, closing your eyes and letting out a moan.

When you open them again his lips are only inches from yours.  He carefully takes the pizza slice from your hands. “I was eating that,” you whisper, your eyes dropping to his mouth. “I have something better,” he teases, before pressing his lips to yours.

Laying on the floor amidst the soft blankets and pillows, cradled against Bucky’s chest you watch the rain drops pitter patter against the sky light above you, the lights from the city dancing along the dark walls. The low rumble of distant thunder echoes through the quiet space as you trace small patterns along his bare skin.

“I love summer thunderstorms.” Bucky hums in agreement, his eyes closed and his head resting against one arm while the other holds you close. “Do you think we should tell my grandma our idea?” Bucky’s question catches you off guard and for a second, you’re unsure of what to say. “Well. I think your idea of doing our research and talking to some friends, like Sam, is a good way to start. Maybe after we have a more solid plan we can sit down and show her everything.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, the sound of his breathing and the city below all you hear now that the rain has stopped. “That seems smart. Sam will probably be a big help since he opened the bar at the beginning of the year. And I know he has some other friends in the restaurant business too.” You prop your head up on your elbow and he turns to face you. “Good idea! I like it,” you say, tracing over the stubble on his jaw.

Grabbing your waist, he rolls over and sits you on top of him, the blanket falling from your shoulders. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You gently roll your hips against him, smiling softly. “Oh Bucky.” The words fall from your lips with a quiet tenderness and the world falls away with every brush of his fingertips.

You and Bucky walked to the corridor in silence.  A small smile played over Bucky’s lips as he stopped outside your room. “Do you want to go over it tonight?” As you reached for your door handle you turned to look at him. “Yeah sure, see you later Bucky.” Closing the door behind softly you let out a relieved sigh. You threw the file onto your coffee, raked your hair up into a messy bun before flopping down on the sofa. It took less than an hour to read the file over twice. It seemed pretty straight forward. Try and gather as much information at the party and if all else failed then search the house once everyone had gone to bed. The guest list was made up of the rich and powerful from across the world, some with backgrounds in organised crime. Bucky was fluent in many languages and you were good at reading body language and a dab hand at lipreading. Really you were going to make an incredible team and acting as a couple wasn’t going to be as difficult as Steve thought.

It was 2 in the morning when Bucky knocked quietly on your door. You padded over the door and opened it. Bucky stepped in and waited for the door to close before sweeping you up in his arms and capturing your lips with his. “Hey, put me down you moron” you grumbled against his mouth. He slid you down his body until your feet hit the floor, his hands on your hips. “I thought Fury and Steve had found out about us when you walked into the office this morning.” You rolled your eyes as he tucked a lose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you believe we actually get to act like a couple whilst being undercover? It’s going to be so easy” You frowned slightly. “Not sure about easy but it’s going to be less acting than our everyday lives.” You took Bucky’s hand and dragged him towards the sofa. Bucky laid down in the sofa his head resting on your lap, your fingers running through his hair. “We are going to have to tell them about us you know, it’s been 6 months.” Bucky tilted his head back his blue eyes fixed on yours. “I know Y/N, we will, but I just want to stay in the bubble a little longer.” Leaning down you pressed a kiss to his lips. After discussing the finer details of the mission Bucky reluctantly headed back to his own room. Part of hiding your relationship relied on you not waking up with one another, it was something that was starting to bother you. That’s why you were excited for the mission tomorrow. For once you and Bucky could hold hands, whisper to each other, kiss one another, hell just be yourselves for a change. Well, whilst pretending to be a completely different couple.

The mission went down without a hitch. Between you and Bucky you found out the host was in fact an arms dealer and who he was supplying. No one ever suspected either of you. Bucky clung to you the whole night as you both mingled, danced and despite working managed to have an enjoyable night. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed as Bucky flew you both back to New York the next morning. As you looked across at him you could see he was feeling the exact same thing. You were both going back undercover; hiding your true selves from the rest of your teammates.

An hour or so into the flight Bucky let out a loud sigh. “Doll, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” Panic flooded through your body. “Buck, what do you mean?” Bucky glanced over and noticed how your eyes had widened and the colour had drained from your face. “Shit Y/N, I didn’t mean us.” He turned the jet onto autopilot and come to kneel in front of you. He took your hands in his and pressed kissed to each of your knuckles before holding them in your lap. “Doll, look at me.” You were still unsure where this was going but met his gaze. “I love you Y/N, I don’t want to hide anymore. The bubble was nice but after last night I don’t think I can go back to hiding.” Bucky was caught off guard when you began to attack his lips. After getting over the initial shock he responded with the same fiery passion. Your tongue glided over his bottom lip and he opened up, releasing a moan into your mouth as your tongue danced with his. Minutes later you finally broke apart, gasping for air, your forehead rested against his. “I love you Buck” you panted in between breaths. He chuckled “I kinda gathered that from your sudden attack.” You shoved him playfully back towards the pilot’s seat.

Bucky woke you from your nap when you landed. “Steve wants to meet us for a debrief straight away” You yawned and stood up, stretching out your limbs after the long flight. Bucky intertwined his fingers with your and led the way to the briefing room. Steve was waiting for you when you arrived. He raised his eyebrow when you and Bucky entered holding hands. “You two know you’re not undercover now don’t you?” Both of you sat down in the same chairs you were in only a couple of days ago, not letting go of one another. “Yeah we’re not idiots’ punk.” Steve alternated his gaze between you still utterly confused. “Then why are you still holding hands?” You stifled a laugh as Bucky continued to torment Steve. “Considering you’re America’s hero you can be quite thick sometimes punk.” Steve folded his arms across his chest. You took pity on the disgruntle super soldier who was none the wiser. “Steve, me and Buck have been seeing each other in secret for the last 6 months.” You braced yourself for a lecture but it never came. Instead Steve was grinning. “I knew it.” He said quietly. Bucky scoffed at this. “You didn’t have a clue pal. I thought you didn’t lie?” Steve’s cheeks went a little pink. “Fine, I didn’t know exactly what had been going on but I noticed how much happier you seemed Buck.” You shot a smile at Bucky who squeezed your hand in return. “Did you want to debrief Steve or interrogate us about our relationship? Me and my girl have got six months of PDA to catch up on.” Bucky winked at you and you giggled watching as Steve tried to work out exactly what his best friend meant.

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