Letters from the Heart - BugTheCyborg (2024)

Chapter 1: Ride a Cowboy?

Chapter Text

Evan was sitting at the bar nursing the same beer he’d been sipping on for the past half-hour, debating the merits of having another before heading home for the night. He had work in the morning, but it was still early and the bar was just starting to get busy. Considering it was the only bar in this town, someone he knew was sure to show up soon, even on a Thursday. And he kind of wanted to celebrate, anyway.

It was the end of his first month in Texas, about four weeks now that he’d been working as a Ranch Hand. He’d been liking it so far. It was nice, different than bartending or construction, or surfing, or the training he’d done when he was considering joining the SEALs. Most of the skills he’d picked up in the two-ish years since he’d left Hershey were pretty transferable, but he was still learning the ropes of what it meant to work on a farm. It was starting to get warmer now, too, so he knew there’d be even more to learn soon. As long as he didn’t do anything too embarrassing again, he’d be fine.

He took the last sip of his beer and was looking around to flag down the bartender when he heard some small cheers erupt from one of the two pool tables down at the other end of the building. Evan glanced over, and then did a double-take. Straightening up from taking a shot, presumably a good one, was a man he hadn‘t seen around here before. He might not’ve been able to see his face, but Evan was sure as hell that he would’ve remembered the ass that looked to have been poured into those sinfully tight pants.

It seemed as though mystery man had just won the game, as the group disbanded and passed their cues to the people who’d been watching them, patting him on the back as they did. Mystery man turned around, and Evan caught sight of his pretty brown eyes and immediately rethought his plans for the evening. There were many ways to celebrate, after all.

He moved down the bar and caught the eye of the brunet, jerking his head at the seat beside him in invitation. The man seemed to think for a second, but ultimately decided to accept and approach Evan.

“Hey there,” Evan said. “Seems like congratulations might be in order. Good game?”

The man laughed, running a hand through his hair. God, his biceps were massive.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so. Thanks. I'm Eddie, by the way.”

“Evan. Could I buy you a drink?”

“Who am I to say no to a free drink?”

Evan smiled wider, turning a bit to flag down the bartender. “Her name's Emma, you know. We could start a band, name it something about E's.”

Eddie smirked and took a seat at one of the bar stools. “I can play a mean tambourine.”

Evan chuckled at his reply as Emma finished up with another customer and made her way over to them, wiping down the bar and clearing the empties as she did. “Another one, Buck?”

“Make it two, Em.” He gestured to Eddie, sitting beside him. “One for my new friend here.”

She eyed up the other man, giving Evan a knowing look. He’d had one too many drinks and spent a little too long lamenting with her about the lack of decent men in this town just last week. He knew what she was thinking and, well, she wasn’t wrong.

“Coming right up, boys.”

Emma turned around to grab the drinks, and Evan turned back to his new, ahem, friend, and took a seat himself.

“Don't think I've seen you around here before, Eddie. Not that that's saying much, since I've only been here a month myself.”

Eddie shrugged. “I'm just here for the night. Shipping out tomorrow for my second tour.”

“Oh? Army?”

“Army medic, yeah. Afghanistan.”

“Good for you, man,” he enthused. “Saving lives out there. I looked into joining the SEALs a few months ago, met the physical requirements but uh,” Evan hesitated, unsure if this was the right thing to say to someone who'd just said they were in the Army. “I, well, turns out I wasn't really cut out for it. Couldn't just turn myself off the way they wanted.”

“It's not for everyone, that's for sure. And I’ll bet you know how the Army feels about the Navy. We would’ve been on opposite sides of a rivalry, here.” Eddie huffed a laugh, his tone joking. “So what is it you're doing now, if not the SEALs?”

“Oh!” Buck said, getting excited. “I've been working as a Ranch Hand, one of the farms just outta town. It's pretty sweet.”

Emma slid their bottles across the counter, caps already off, and they paused their conversation to thank her before she moved on to the group that had just walked in.

“So the cowboy hat's not just for show, then?” Eddie asked.

Evan raised a hand to touch the brim of his hat. James had given it to him after his first day on the job, said that they'd ‘make a cowboy out of him yet.’

“I, uh, can't quite ride the horses yet, but I figure, dress for the job you want, right?” He gestured to the rest of his outfit, straight-cut jeans, work boots, and a flannel with the sleeves rolled up, his forearm tattoos on display.

Eddie looked him up and down, eyes darkening, and took a sip of his beer. Evan knew what that look meant, could feel himself flushing at the attention, even if he had invited it.

“You're certainly dressed for something. What's this about not knowing how to ride a horse, though?”

Evan sputtered. “I- Well, uh. It's not that-”

“It's not that he doesn't know how to ride, right Buck? Just that the ones James has got don't seem to like him all that much when he's in their saddles.”

Evan wasn't sure if Emma was saving him or throwing him under the bus. He glared at her just to be safe.

She winked. She was totally throwing him under the bus.

Eddie looked amused. “Oh?”

“Yep,” Emma continued, “Very first day, Buck here got up on Applejack to take her for a spin and she just, well, bucked him right off. Usually such a mild-mannered horse, too.” She shook her head, smiling.

Buck could feel his cheeks flushing again, was sure he looked red as a tomato by this point. He chanced a glance at Eddie, who seemed to be trying earnestly not to burst into laughter.

“Is that- is that why you call him Buck, then?”

“That, and his last name.” She smiled and walked off again, gone as fast as she’d popped up to embarrass him.

She reminded him a bit of Maddie in that way. They both seemed to know just when he was trying to make a good impression, so they could swoop in and tease him. Evan shook his head, looking up to find Eddie gazing at him with a raised eyebrow and a small grin.

“Evan Buckley,” Evan said. “Or as that hellion and everyone else in this town likes to call me, Buck. At your service.”

He tipped his hat, bowing as dramatically as he could while still seated.

Eddie snorted and gave a little bow back. “Edmundo Diaz,” he returned. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Evan and Eddie had been chatting at the bar for hours. They'd each had a couple of drinks, but neither of them had made any moves, nor was either of them anything more than slightly tipsy. Their bar stools had migrated closer together over the evening, mostly out of necessity as the bar got busier and louder, but partially, at least on Evan's part, out of a desire to be near. Under the bar, their thighs were pressed together, warm and solid.

Evan finished the last of his drink and leaned into Eddie's space, placing a hand on his knee. “Do you maybe wanna get out of here?”

He pulled back to look at the brunet, and he could see the lust mirrored in his eyes. His stomach tensed in anticipation when Eddie threw back the rest of his drink, making eye contact with him as he caught the last drop on his tongue.

“Where to?” He asked.

Evan opened his wallet and threw a couple twenties on the bar to close out their tab, then grabbed Edddie’s hand and pulled him to his feet. He gave a quick nod to Emma as they made their way towards the door.

“I've got an apartment just around the corner, if you're alright with that?”

“Sounds good to me,” Eddie said. “My hotel’s about 10 minutes by car, I took a cab to get here, so unless you've got a roommate-”

“Nope,” Evan said. “No roommates. Just me.” They made it outside and Evan started to steer them towards his place.

Eddie reached down to twine their fingers together. “Perfect.”

It was a quick walk to Evan's place, like he'd said. He really did live just around the corner. He was grateful for Eddie's hand in his though, because despite the small duration of the walk, that point of contact was the only thing that stopped him from pulling this gorgeous man behind a building and asking to be wrecked. Based on the looks Eddie kept sending him, he must've been thinking along those same lines.

When they finally made it to his building, they ran up to Evan's floor like giggling school girls. Evan hadn't felt this bubbly about someone in a while. He let go of Eddie's hand to fumble for his keys, and Eddie took the opportunity to not-so-subtly cop a feel, his hand brushing the younger man's ass. Buck leaned into the touch, then unlocked the door. He stepped into his apartment, nothing special but it did the job, and held the door open while Eddie followed.

They paused for a moment to take off their shoes, sneaking glances at each other the whole time. The second they both were done, Eddie had Evan backed up against the wall.

The man was a little bit taller than him, a little bit stronger, a little bit older, too, from what Evan had gathered through their conversation. He placed his hands on Evan's hips, and Evan could feel the heat of them through his clothes, could feel Eddie's breath on his face as he leaned in, stopping just before their lips touched. If Eddie had seemed hesitant earlier, there was none of that hesitation in him now.

“This okay?” He asked

“Y-yeah. More than.” Buck let his eyes flutter closed, and Eddie kissed him.

It started off slow and gentle, their lips moving together as they got familiar with each other. Evan reached up to wrap his arms around Eddie's neck, leaning into him, and Eddie's grip tightened on his hips before relaxing, one hand moving to his waist and the other reaching around to press against his ass, much less tentatively than he had outside the door.

Evan gasped into the kiss, and Eddie used the opportunity to deepen it, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Evan could feel himself melting, turning to putty in his hands. He might've kissed a fair amount of people, but Eddie was a damn good kisser.

Eddie bit his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and a small moan wrenched its way out of Evan's throat. He felt Eddie twitch at the sound, then return to the kiss with a vengeance, lips and teeth and tongue all playing a part, trying to eke more sounds out of him. Evan was all too happy to oblige.

After a while, a minute, an hour, who knows, they broke apart, pulling away from the kiss to breathe. Evan felt Eddie give one last quick squeeze to his ass, then let go and smack it. It didn't hurt, what with the jeans Evan was wearing and the limited range of motion between his ass and the wall, but it made his co*ck twitch all the same. He whined.

Eddie looked at him, smug, his lips red and swollen. “You got a bedroom, baby?”

Evan could only nod.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The sun filtering in through the window woke him up before his alarm, which was starting to be the standard. Evan kind of liked waking up when the world did, hadn't known that about himself until he started this job. That was part of why he enjoyed bouncing around so much. He learned something new everywhere he went and every job he worked at, and not just new skills, but about himself as well. Like the ocean. He hadn't known how much he loved it until he'd spent all that time surfing in Virginia.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of his alarm clock, blaring the morning radio from his bedside. The sudden flurry of movement from beside him startled him more than the dulcet tones of John Denver though, until he remembered exactly how he'd celebrated the end of his first month in Texas.

Sitting up in his bed, hair mussed from both sleep and debauchery, was the gorgeous brunet from the bar last night.

“Dios, that's loud,” Eddie croaked. “Could you turn it off?”

Evan jolted, realizing he'd just been staring, and reached over to turn off the radio. “Right, yeah, of course,” he stuttered. “Good morning. D'you sleep okay?”

Eddie looked at him, running a hand through his hair (once again, damn, those arms), a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, Evan, I slept alright.” The smile grew into a smirk, and he got a mischievous look in his eyes. “After you tired me out, I mean. You sure do know how to ride, don't you?”

He could feel himself blushing, and his eyes flicked to the hickies he'd left on the other man's chest, the scratch marks he could see on his back. The beard burn on Evan's chin and between his thighs from Eddie's scruff stung.

Eddie laughed softly at whatever he saw on his face, and flopped back down into bed. “Could I trouble you for a drive to my hotel in a bit?” He asked. “I've got to grab my bags and then check out by 11.”

Evan felt his heart break a little at the reminder that Eddie wasn't staying, couldn't stay. There was something about him that made Evan just want to… hold on and not let go, or something. He knew that wasn't in the cards, though. They'd had an amazing night, but Eddie was leaving, and Evan would be staying here.

“No trouble at all,” he said. “I can drop you off on my way to work, if you've got time to eat breakfast first? You can use my shower if you want, too.”

“Breakfast and a shower sounds like just the thing. Thanks.”

“Of course. I'll grab you a towel and a fresh toothbrush from the cupboard.” Evan leaned over and brushed a close-mouthed kiss against his lips before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. They hadn't put on any clothes to sleep, and if Evan swayed his hips a little more than usual as he walked, who could blame him? Eddie certainly wouldn't. Evan could feel the other man's eyes following him as he made his way across the room.

He brought a towel back with him, placed it at the foot of the bed and caught Eddie's eye where he'd been watching him. “I'm going to shower real quick, and then while you're cleaning up I'll get started on breakfast. Omelets okay?” They were just about the only thing Evan could make, so he hoped he liked eggs.

Eddie hummed, stretching his arms up over his head. “Baby, omelets sound perfect.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Omelets may have sounded perfect, but in practice, Evan was struggling. About halfway through he gave up and resigned himself to serving a breakfast scramble. At the very least, he had good coffee to offer up when Eddie joined him in the kitchen wearing yesterday's clothes, hair wet from the shower.

Eddie leaned against the wall, watching as Evan poured him a mug.

“How d'you take it?”

“Ah, just black is good,” Eddie replied, “I've kind of developed a taste for it after two years, though I'm sure your blend is better than the stuff we've got.”

“It's alright,” Evan chuckled, “I worked as a barista for a while in Virginia Beach, when I was at bartending school. I'm not snobby about it, but I know my way around a cup of coffee.”

Eddie cradled the mug in his hands and held it up to his face, inhaling, his eyes falling shut.

Evan smiled to himself and turned around to keep dishing up the food. “Okay, so, I know I said omelets, but I got in a fight with the eggs so we've got a nice breakfast scramble with some toast instead.”

He heard Eddie set his mug down on the counter, and felt a hand slide along his lower back. Eddie pressed a kiss to his cheek and buried his face in Evan's neck, arms around his waist. “How could you,” he mumbled into his skin. “I don't know if I'll survive.”

Evan melted into his hold, tilting his head to give him better access. “Mm,” he hummed. “Forgive me?”

Eddie pressed an open-mouth kiss to the crook of his neck, right over where Evan knew he'd left a mark the night before, and pulled away. He grabbed one of the plates and sat down at the small table off to the side of the kitchen. “If it tastes half as good as it smells and twice as good as it looks, there’s nothing to forgive.”

“Oh, shut your mouth,” Evan said, grabbing his own plate and sitting across from Eddie. The other man immediately started playing footsie with him, and Evan felt his heart clench. The morning after wasn't supposed to be this… soft.

They ate their breakfast slowly, not really saying much. Evan poured them each another cup of coffee and they just sat together, appreciating the quiet of the early morning.

When they finished their second cups, Evan brought the mugs to the kitchen and placed them in the sink, looking warily at the clock. “Hey, so, it's just about 7:30. I don't want to kick you out or anything, but I do have to get to work, so if I'm driving you-”

“Yeah, yes,” Eddie said, standing up. “Of course. Do you need to do anything before we head out? I'm ready to go whenever.”

“I've, uh, got everything I need.”

They headed to the door, putting their shoes on much more calmly than they'd taken them off the night before. They made their way down to the parking lot, and Evan got into the Jeep, Eddie following into the passenger seat.

“Which hotel are you at?” He asked, looking over at Eddie.

“Just the, uh, the Quality Inn? I think?”

“Ah, I know where that is. Buckle up.”

Eddie looked at him blandly. “Okay, mom.”

Evan blushed, looking away but standing his ground. “47% of people who die in a car accident aren't wearing a seatbelt Eddie, better safe than sorry.”

“Well alright then,” Eddie chuckled, putting on his belt. “I was going to wear it anyways, but that's even more reason for it. 47%, really?”

“Yeah,” Evan replied, pulling out of the lot. “The National Highway Safety Traffic Administration collects the data and then they publish these studies-”

Evan talked, and Eddie interjected every once in a while to ask a question, and before he knew what had happened they were sitting outside of Eddie's hotel.

“Oh. We're here. I, I'm sorry I didn't mean to, to talk the whole ti-”

“It's okay, Evan. It was interesting.” He placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. “I don't know how you keep all of that information in your head, though. The statistics and facts and everything.”

Oh, Evan thought to himself, anxiety fading in the face of Eddie's gaze.

“Oh,” he said aloud, “I don't know, it's just. I think it's cool.”

“Well, it is,” Eddie said, unbuckling the seatbelt that had started the whole tirade. He leaned over from the passenger seat and pressed a kiss to Evan's cheek. “Thanks for the ride, cowboy.”

Evan blushed, again. “My pleasure.”

He smiled, watching as the other man got out of the Jeep and closed the door behind him.

“Hey,” Evan said, raising his voice a little to be heard through the open window. “Why don't you send me a letter sometime? A little snail mail. You know my address, yeah?”

Eddie laughed, throwing his head back, and waved him away. He walked into the lobby of his hotel, and Evan waited until he couldn't see him anymore before starting the drive to James’ Ranch. He might’ve been a bit late for work, but it felt worth it. Evan would probably never see Eddie again, as much as he wished he would. What were the chances he'd actually write? Evan had been half joking, and no one even sent letters nowadays.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Three weeks later, Evan opened his mailbox. Sitting there, mixed in with the bills and flyers, was a lightly crumpled envelope with an Army Post Office return address.

Chapter 2: This is me, writing a letter

Chapter Text

════ May 2013 ════

Hello Evan,

This is me, writing a letter.

I've never really written a letter to someone who wasn't family before, and I know you were joking, but I had paper and stamps and free time, so I figured why not?

I don't know if it's any easier the second time around, being on base, but at least I knew what to expect. I know I poked fun at the mess you made of breakfast in the morning, but truth be told, the food here doesn't even hold a candle to those omelets-turned-scrambled eggs, messy though they were.

Maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe you won't even get this letter, but I hope you do. I hope it at least makes you smile. You've got a gorgeous smile. I know it's cheesy but it really does light up the whole room. Everyone back home is lucky they get to see it so often.

Try not to get bucked off any more horses, or else I'll have to start calling you Buck, too.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

I'll have you know, I have not gotten bucked off a single horse since my very first day. It was a one-off, a fluke. If you want to call me Buck though, I don't mind. Everyone here does, and it's starting to grow on me.

Sorry about the food situation. At least you've got coffee? And the memory of not-omelets to keep you company. I've been practicing, because eggs are the only thing I can really cook, but I haven't mastered them yet.

I'll have to let Emma know that you wrote. She was asking if she’d be seeing you at the bar again anytime soon. We could still start that band, you know. Eddie and the E’s, maybe? Everything’s coming up E? I'll keep brainstorming.

I don't think this is ridiculous. I did ask you to write, after all. I wasn't sure if you would, it sounded a bit like a joke when I said it.

I'm glad you did, though. It made me smile.

Until next time,

Evan

════ June 2013 ════

Hi Evan,

Still holding down the fort for me in Texas? Sorry it’s been a few weeks since my last letter, I got yours, just haven’t been able to sit down and reply. It’s been pretty busy. The days feel so long, with everything we’ve got to get done. Sometimes they actually are long, when we’ve got to stay up for a stretch, but for some reason, those times never feel as slow as the regular days.

How are things going at the Ranch? The owner’s name is James, right? And that one horse… I can’t remember her name. Emma said she was sweet, though, just had something against you. I don’t understand how everyone doesn’t just like you immediately, animals included. I know I certainly did.

There aren’t any pool tables here, but we’ve been passing the time we've got with cards. I’m lucky I’ve had practice, because these guys are sharks. If I thought I was good at poker before this (which I kind of did), they've disavowed me of that notion. You any good at cards, Ev?

I'm missing Texas something fierce today . I'm not sure about those potential band names, yet. Let me know if you come up with any others, and I’ll keep looking for a tambourine. And please do say hi to Emma for me. Don't know if I'll ever be back in her bar, but it was a nice one. It's where I met you, after all.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Hi Eds,

(Two can play at the nickname game, see?)

I'm holding down the fort for you, yeah. The Ranch is good! We're reaching the end of calving season now, mostly, so things are calming down a bit. Except not really, because there's a lot of calves and foals, and then all the cows and horses, and the other animals, and all the same maintenance work to be doing… and it’s hot as hell and only getting hotter. James says I'm well on my way to being a proper cowboy, though! Only thing is, and promise me you're not going to laugh, Applejack still won't let me ride. She bucked me off again last week, landed me in the hospital (I'm alright, they were just worried about my head). On the other hand, Arion and Apollo have warmed up to me and I've been able to go for a couple of nice rides with them. I don't know what Emma is on about, Applejack is NOT mild-mannered, at least not when you stick a saddle on her.

Speaking of Emma, she says hello! I think she's like, my first actual friend in Texas. She was one of the first people I met here since James is her uncle, and when I'm not working I usually keep her company at the bar. She also helped me get my apartment. And now I get to talk about you with her, too. We've been brainstorming more band names when the crowd is slow, what do you think of E-lectric? Or Element E?

I'm a bit ashamed to say I'm horrible at cards. I've got no poker face at all. The only times I've ever played, it's been strip poker, and I was not unhappy to be losing clothes.

Remember to take care of yourself, Eddie. I know… I know a lot of it is out of your control, but all the same. I think I miss you more than Texas does, and I barely know you . Don't waste time writing me when you could be resting, alright? I love hearing from you, but I'd love it more if you could be safe, as safe as possible in an active war zone.

Talk again later,

Evan Buck (I'm just getting ahead, you said you'd start calling me Buck if it happened again, and it did)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Hello Buck,

Promise not to laugh? You said “promise not to laugh” and then told me you were in the hospital. Buck, baby, what on earth? I'm glad you're okay, but seriously? Do I have to come back there and teach Applejack a lesson? Why were they worried about your head?

I'm glad you've got a friend in Emma, and that she's been able to help you out in more ways than one. Those band names ain't it, though. We might have to throw in the towel on that idea.

It's been… it’s been rough, Ev. But writing you is taking care of myself. It's a reminder that this isn't all there is. That you're out there, bringing new animal life into the world and apparently losing all your clothes in strip poker. I might just have to set up a game with you when I'm back.

You make it all a bit easier, Buck.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ July 2013 ════

Eddie,

f*ck, Eds. You can't just. You can't just say sh*t like that. Calling me baby, telling me that I make it easier for you. All I'm doing is writing you letters. All I can do is write you letters.

Okay, that's not quite true. I can do a bit more than that. Sorry if this one took longer to arrive, but it came with a care package, so I hope it’s forgiven. It's not much, just some of my favorite chapstick, good socks, and some nuts. A picture of Applejack, so you can see how sweet she is and that she's perfectly friendly when I’m not trying to ride her. You can share with your squadron if you want. I got bulk (as in lots, not muscles. You've got the muscles covered).

I'd get naked for you without the game, Eds. You just have to ask.

I've been in this city for just about four months now, you know. I left Pennsylvania a bit before I turned 19, and the longest I've been anywhere since was the eight months I spent in Virginia Beach, and three months in Montréal. It's kinda nice to stay in one spot, but I'm getting a bit antsy, too. Usually some opportunity pops up when I'm feeling this way, so I'll be keeping an ear out, I guess. I'll keep you updated if I'm gonna be somewhere other than here.

You… you make it all a bit easier for me, too.

That’s all for now,

B

P.S. You really are a medic, aren't you? I knocked my head on the ground when I fell, that's all. No concussion, nothing broken, not even a bump. I'm fine, don't worry.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Hey baby,

Thank you for the package, especially the socks. The group says thanks as well. You got them all curious though, now they won't leave me alone, needling me about writing you back. I had to hide to write this without them looking over my shoulder.

I'm glad you're alright and that you don't have a concussion, but I'm going to worry anyway. I’ll buy you bubble wrap for your birthday, or something.

You've traveled a lot, huh? Where else have you been, other than Virginia, Quebec, and Texas? I bet you've got loads of stories. I'd love to hear them all, someday.

Shorter letter today because I've got to run. Thinking of you.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Hi Eddie,

Stop being so sweet. I'm thinking of you too. You're turning me into a sap, I swear to god.

I hope your squadron has laid off on their snooping by now, so you can read this in peace and reply without needing to hide. I'm glad they appreciated it though, I wasn't really all that sure what to pack. I had to ask James what he thought you might want, and he was very insistent about the socks. Happy that worked out.

If you want to send me bubble wrap for my birthday you're gonna have to wait a while. It was in June, on the 3rd. I'm 22 now, woohoo!

I have traveled a lot, yeah. All over the US, really, and then parts of Canada, too. When I first left, it was about 3 years before I met you, actually. April 2010. I went to Boston, stayed with my sister and her husband for a couple of weeks. That's when Maddie gave me the Jeep, which made it easier when I went to New York. I worked odd jobs there for a while before I continued up to Maine and got a job on a lobster boat for the season. That was pretty cool, I learned a lot about fish and the ocean and stuff. When lobster season ended, I ended up driving around New England for a couple of months, staying in a bunch of different places. I met a guy in Vermont who was from Québec, he invited me to go back to Canada with him and work at his cousin's for the winter, doing mechanic stuff. The paperwork was a bit of a hassle but we got it sorted and then I was in Montréal for three months. I kinda regretted that one, with how cold and snowy it was. Pennsylvania got cold, but not that cold. I did get to learn some French, though, and have maple taffy. Life-changing if you've got a sweet tooth, I swear.

After that, I decided I wanted to see all the Great Lakes. I drove around, picking up odd jobs and sightseeing. Staying for a couple of weeks all over the place, a couple of months in some places. Met a lot of good people. Took about a year, all in all, and when that was done, I headed to Virginia. Learned to surf, got my bartending certificate, worked in a cafe. The travel bug bit me again after about eight months, though, and I started working my way towards the West Coast doing construction. When I got to California, I looked into joining the SEALs, realized it wasn't for me. Heard about this opening at James’ farm, and here we are. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

I wonder where the wind will take me next. It brought me to you already, so I know it's got good taste.

Adventure awaits,

B

════ August 2013 ════

Hi beautiful,

Turning you into a sap? You sure you weren't one already? I've got some pretty distinct memories of you being real sweet for me, back when we'd only just met. The sweetest.

Can't believe I missed your birthday. I'll be sure to remember next year, so I can get a whole roll of bubble wrap delivered right to you.

Wow. You really have been all over, Evan. Have you visited all 50 states? Anywhere else in Canada? And a sister! I'm guessing she's older than you? I've got a couple of siblings as well. Riri is a year younger than me, and Soph is 4 years younger. We were all close growing up, but we don’t talk as much now.

The guys here aren't looking over my shoulder anymore, but they do keep giving me flack for my B. Happy to deal with their sh*t when it means I've got a letter from you, but dios, están molestando. They're calling me soft.

The wind certainly does have good taste, if it brought you to me. One day it'll bring me back to you. Let me know wherever you head next, so I can hear all about your next adventure.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

I’m only sweet for you. I’ll be as sweet for you as you want me to be. Doesn’t mean you haven’t turned me into a sap, mooning over some words you wrote down.

I’ll keep an eye out next June for a comically large roll of bubble wrap showing up at my door. Speaking of, when’s your birthday?

I’ve not been to all 50 states, no. Never been to Alaska or Hawaii, and I never got around to Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, or the Dakotas. I’ve hit most of the rest of them though, even if it was only driving through or popping in for a day. As for Canada, I stuck to Quebec. Took a trip to Ottawa, once, but nothing other than that.

Yeah, Maddie, my sister, she’s 9 years older than me. She moved out for college when I was 9, but we’re still pretty close. I send her postcards from everywhere I go, and we call often enough. She’s a nurse in Boston, and her husband is a doctor at the same hospital. It’s pretty cool. He doesn’t like me much, but he’s not my brother, and I’m a lot younger than him, so I get it.

Soft? They’re calling you soft? Have they seen your abs, they should be calling you eight-pack!

I’ve started helping out at the bar, by the way, since I was spending so much time there anyhow. Mike, Emma's boss, told me that if I was going to be hanging around this often, he’d start putting me to work. And he has. Means a bit of extra change in my pocket though, and it's not like I don’t have my bartending certificate. Plus, more time with Emma! It’s a win-win.

Catch you later,

B

════ September 2013 ════

Baby,

You are a gift. I don’t know what I did, to deserve knowing you.

Now that I’ve said that, Buck, I’m going to kill you. The guys have not stopped calling me eight-pack. They got a glimpse of your letter and now I’ll never live it down.

My birthday is November 27th. Still a little while before it comes around this year, but I’m feeling a bit like a cradle robber here. I’ll be turning 25 and you’re just now 22.

You should go on a trip to visit all the states you haven’t, one day. Buy one of those scratchy maps and mark it off. That would be cool to see.

It’s so sweet that you send your sister postcards. I’m sure she loves them. I’d collect them, make a piece of like, wall art out of them or something. It must suck that her husband isn’t a fan of you, though. You’re his brother-in-law, and his wife loves you. Seems like that should be enough.

How is Emma doing? And the Ranch, how is that? What’s it like, in the fall?

Thinking of your beautiful smile.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eds,

25 is not old, and definitely not cradle robbing. This girl in Virginia Beach, she taught me to surf and everything, we dated for like seven months and she was 28. And like, there are people who are married and have over 20-year age gaps, and it's fine. You just have to know yourself. And I know you. I think we’re pretty evenly matched.

I feel like I shouldn’t be taking the blame for that. They’re the ones who snooped, and well, you do have an eight-pack. Not like it’s not true. What if I just started writing something scandalous in these letters? Talk about how much I loved it when you kissed your way down my body, left me covered in hickies, how it felt to have you laying down on top of me, caging me in, pinning my wrists to the bed…

Do you think they’ll stop reading your letters if they see that, or will it just make them want to read more? If so, sorry. Otherwise, you’re welcome.

On another note, I’m glad I asked. I would’ve hated to miss your birthday after the stink you put up about missing mine.

I might look into one of those scratch maps, sounds cool. And Emma is good! Her sister just moved to Peru, to move in with her long-term partner and fiancé of a few months, so she‘s a little bit stressed about that, but mostly she’s good! Probably annoyed by how much I talk about you, but she hasn’t dropped me yet. We went out to karaoke with some of her friends from high school last weekend, it was loads of fun. Have you done karaoke? Do you have a go-to song?

The Ranch is also good. There’s always something to be done, and it means I get to be outside and do a job that keeps me in shape. Plus I get to hang out with animals! Applejack let me take her for a short ride yesterday and didn’t even try to buck me off. It was amazing.

Until the next time,

B

════ October 2013 ════

Buck,

I might have an eight-pack, but I’m still assigning you the blame. You’re the one who wrote it out, after all (I’m not mad, just poking fun at you. You’re easy to tease, baby).

Speaking of teasing, you are one. Jesus, baby. I miss being between your thighs.

I have done karaoke, but not often. My go-to song is probably What I Like About You by The Romantics?

That’s awesome about Applejack. Glad she’s finally realized what an amazing guy you are. And Emma’s sister, too. That’s a big move, I can see why she’s stressed. Awesome though, that she gets to live with the man she loves. Is Emma going to go visit her at all?

(Also, you might’ve been joking, but I think your plan actually worked. They all think I’m sat here writing you dirty things, so none of them are even trying to sneak a glance. Good idea, gorgeous).

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

Emma will not stop poking at me about my pen pal. Which, you know, is what we are, I guess. Feels weird to call you a pen pal, though. Feels like more than that. She knows you, obviously, since you met her the same night we met. And she knows what this is. What is this? Her and I talk a lot. But you and I, we’ve never really called it anything. I guess pen pal fits.

Also, if they all think you're writing me dirty things, why don't you?

It is a pretty big move, yeah. Emma is going to visit for the wedding, it's in December. I'm gonna go with her, I think. Her sister's fiancé mentioned something about looking for new help at his restaurant, they can't seem to hold onto a dishwasher, and, well, I know how to wash dishes. Seems like the wind is blowing me to Peru. The last time I moved it was to Texas, and a month into that I met you. 6 months ago tomorrow, wow. The time flies, doesn't it?

No way!! That's my go-to at karaoke as well. We HAVE to do a duet sometime, Eds. It'll be phenomenal.

How are things going over there? Are you and your squad doing alright?

Missing you,

Buck

════ November 2013 ════

Hey B,

What are the chances that we have the same karaoke song? That has to be one in a million, at least. I'd love to duet with you, one day, after probably way too many drinks. I need some liquid courage if you want me to sing in public. There's another reason why the band would not have worked out: stage fright.

This is. Does it matter what this is? You make me happy, I try to do the same. Does it need to be something? I guess we are pen pals, aren’t we? Does it count if we met each other in person first?

Things over here are going. It's war, there's not much to say. We're making do.

Do you want me to write you dirty things, Buck? Because I can do that. I've had months to let my imagination run wild, thinking about all the things I want to do to you. All you have to do is ask.

Happy 6 months of knowing you, baby.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

I’m headed to Peru! Tomorrow! I leave tomorrow! Can you tell I’m excited? I’m actually writing this at the bar, my apartment is all moved out and packed up, and I’m staying the night at Emma’s. I’ll write you again when I’m settled in Peru, it might be a couple of weeks though. End of December, maybe? Don’t reply to this letter, I won’t be here to get it. I’ve gotta have an address or a PO box at my new place before I can set up mail forwarding, so it’s easier if you just wait for me to send you another letter. Does mail forwarding even work internationally? I’ll have to figure that out too.

I’m a little bit drunk right now.

I told you that Emma invited me to be her date at her sister’s wedding, right? Purely platonic though! We’re friends and I look super hot in a suit and she needed a date. I’m excited though, the last wedding I went to was Maddie’s, when I walked her down the aisle. I’ve never actually been to one as like, a guest. I’ll tell you all about it, after! Have you been to many weddings? Are your sisters married?

Also, stage fright can be overcome. And I'd be right beside you! We’d be doing it together. Everything’s easier that way.

Lastly, happy early birthday, Eddie!!! Don’t go thinking I forgot. I’m glad I met you, and that you sent me that first letter. Changed my life for the better.

Love you,

Talk to you in a month,

Buck

P.S. This is me asking. But not yet! Wait for my next letter. Then you can tell me everything you want to do to me.

Chapter 3: P.S. I think I love you

Chapter Text

════ January 2014 ════

Eddie,

Oh my god sorry it took me so long. I had an apartment figured out, but then it caught on fire like, the day before I was supposed to move in? I don’t know if that’s lucky or unlucky. Probably lucky. It did mean that I had to find a new place on short notice though. Luckily (again) the hotel Emma and I had booked let me pay to stay in the room longer, but she had to go back home to work and then I also had to start work, with Emilio, Emma’s sister’s husband? Another E name, we really should start a band at this point. Emma’s sister is named Delilah, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that. She’s nice. Looked gorgeous in her wedding dress, like she should. The prettiest woman there by far.

Anyway! Sorry again, for not writing sooner. I started work with Emilio at his restaurant like, mid-December? And I just stayed at the hotel until I found a new place, which took a while. And then it took me a while to get settled. But now I am! It may be the middle of January, but I'm renting this house in a decent neighborhood and I've got a steady job and things are looking up. So I am writing you, to give you my address, so you can write me. Because I miss your letters. Rereading the old ones isn’t the same. Em was making fun of me for pinning and reading them over and over, but she always does that. I’m going to miss her, kinda do already. She’s hooked up with my address too, though, and wifi calling is a thing, so we’ll keep in touch.

You’ve got my address now, Eds. Send me a letter, sometime. A little snail mail, if you will.

Talk soon (please),

B

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck,

This is me, writing a letter, again. Just like you asked. I would do anything you asked. I missed hearing from you, baby. I’m glad you’re alright, even though you had what sounds like more than a few hiccups along the way.

I'm going to try and respond to everything from this letter, and the one from the end of November too. Firstly, I'm a little bit jealous that Emma got to see you in a suit and I didn't. I would've loved to see you done up all pretty, drag you up to your hotel room after and take you apart, unwrap you like the gift you are. I can picture you, flushed and disheveled, the top couple buttons of your shirt undone, dark spots blooming on your neck…

How was it, being a guest at a wedding instead of in the wedding party? Any different?

Secondly, I cannot believe your apartment burnt down. That's insane. I'm glad it was before you moved in, though. Have you checked to make sure your new place is up to code? Do you have a fire extinguisher somewhere accessible?

Really nice of Emilio to offer you a job, and one that doesn't require you to speak Spanish yet either. Are you learning, while you're there? I guess you must have to. ¿Debería escribir en español, para ayudarte a practicar?

You and Emma better keep in touch. Otherwise, how will we ever form our band? I might be a little nervous about performing, but like you said, we'd be together. You by my side and I could do anything.

Happy belated New Year’s, Ev. I'm glad I met you, too.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ February 2014 ════

Eddie,

Another care package for you! More socks and whatnot, some trail mix. A picture of my house in Peru, isn't it nice? I really got a deal on it. I guess the fire was a blessing in disguise. And yes, I have a fire extinguisher and the house is up to code. My neighbor, Gael, he checked it all out for me.

Being a guest this time wasn't that much different. I didn't really have much part in the planning for Maddie’s, so it was mostly the same. Except less people were looking at me here, because no one knew me and I wasn't the one giving the bride away. 10/10, would wedding again.

Sí, estoy aprendiendo. But, uh, mostly speaking. I've been picking up the useful stuff at work and from Gael, don't have much need for the written, so maybe let's stick to English? I can impress you with it in person, later.

Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way. I thought about you, at the wedding, in my suit. And I've thought about you since then. I've got a house here, and the walls are much thicker than my apartment in Texas. I can… be loud. I know how much you like hearing me. I know how much you like seeing me, too, which is why I maybe snuck in a couple of other pictures. Your eyes only, okay? Hope you like them.

Yours,

B

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Baby,

Are you trying to kill me, beautiful? Calling yourself mine, and those pictures…. The way those pictures made my heart stutter. You are exquisite. You're a work of art and those pictures belong in a museum. Jesus, Buck. How’d I get so lucky? Will you wear that for me, next time I see you? The lacy one. Please?

I… I'm crazy for you, baby. I want to kiss you stupid. I want to take you apart, piece by piece until you forget your own name. Dios, cariño . Te amo .

Your new house is lovely, yeah. I like the color. And Gael seems nice, it's always good to have a friendly neighbor.

I can't wait to be impressed. Think it might actually take me out, to hear you speak Spanish.

I'm yours, too.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

I saw the biggest spider literally ever this morning. Like, I know they’re good and whatever, eating all the other bugs, but wow. That thing belonged in Australia, not my front porch. Gael was sitting on his side of the porch when I came out (he’s got a rocking chair there, just sits and people watches a lot of the time. It’s sweet) and he laughed when I jumped. He’s chill though, even when he’s making fun of me for my accent. The mail guys keep delivering my stuff to his door, and he hasn’t complained or anything, just holds onto it for me until I get home.

Emilio’s restaurant is a great place to work. All the staff help me with the Spanish during my shift, and they’ve been inviting me out with them after work, too. And Delilah and Emilio have me over for dinner like once a month, and I’ve been calling Emma. This is probably the easiest time I’ve had settling into a new place, somehow, despite the whole apartment fire business, and the fact that I spoke basically none of the language before I arrived. The only thing that would make it better is you.

It’s weird that it's colder here in the summer months than the winter ones, in my mind. Like, the temperature is HOT right now, but then in August it’s going to be cool, like 50s, 60s from what I understand. Wonder if I’ll be here long enough to notice? The southern hemisphere, it’s wild.

You’ll get the chance to kiss me stupid one day, promise. I might forget my own name but I’ll never forget yours.

That’s all for now,

Your Buck

════ March 2014 ════

Buck,

If it had been me on that porch, I’d have done more than jump. I’d probably have screamed so loud I woke up the neighborhood. I am terrified of spiders. They creep me out. What do they have so many legs for? And have you seen how they curl up when they die? What is up with that?

With all this practice you’re getting, by the time I get around to hearing it I expect your Spanish to be flawless, at least in a restaurant setting. Make sure you’re learning other stuff too, so we can hold a conversation about something other than food and dishes.

That is strange, yeah. I’ve never stayed long anywhere in the southern hemisphere. Mexico is close to the equator, but still north of it. As for staying, I think you’ll stick around in Peru for a while yet. It’s got to be a lot different than anywhere you’ve been before, not being in North America. It has a lot to teach you. And from what you’ve told me so far, life there suits you. I realize I only have a small window into your life, but still.

I get a bit worried sometimes, that I’ve imagined you, but then you send me letters like this and I can’t help but smile, and all the guys get on my ass about you. Greggs, he started calling you my Juliet and I thought it was a Romeo and Juliet thing until he called me your Victor Hugo. Apparently, he had a lover named Juliette who wrote him twenty thousand letters over the course of fifty years. Greggs did a project on them in school. It was silly, but I thought you’d appreciate it.

Can you imagine loving someone that much? I think I could, Ev.

Talk to you soon.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

Twenty thousand letters, really? That’s. That’s like, one a day, for fifty years. I looked it up, and. Wow. She was his lover, and ran away with him when he was exiled, even. His wife knew about her, too, but she’d had an affair first so she couldn’t really say much even though she didn’t like Juliette. She did try to ruin her acting career, though. And through all that, Juliette loved him and wrote him every day. That’s just, wow. Thank you for sharing, and thanks to Greggs, too. I read some of the letters, and I did appreciate it.

You’re afraid of spiders? In my mind, you’re not afraid of anything. I don’t know why they have eight legs, but the reason they curl up when they die is because they only have the muscles to pull in, not push out. In order to get their legs to push out, they pump this fluid, their equivalent of blood, through tubes in their legs. When they die, the liquid doesn’t move anymore, and the legs curl in. It’s actually pretty cool, but if you don’t like them you might not agree. Sorry.

I sometimes think I’ve imagined you, too. But Emma knows who you are, so unless we’re having a shared hallucination, I’m pretty sure you’re real. It would be easier to tell if I could hold you in my arms, though.

Dans tout ce que je vois de beau, je te reconnais.

I think I’ll think of you every time I see a spider, now.

From my heart to yours,

B

════ April 2014 ════

Dear Buck,

I’m afraid of plenty of things. Spiders, blizzards, snakes, losing you, dying. Getting lost in the desert. Not being able to save someone. I’m not infallible, baby. I just put on a brave face. It’s easier to pretend nothing scares me than to let myself be vulnerable. It’s a little easier here, on paper. You let me feel like I can be vulnerable.

I saw what you did there, with the French. I forgot that you spoke it. Luckily, Mills speaks it too, and she only made fun of me a little when I asked her to translate. Then, after she read it, she made fun of me a lot . Especially when Greggs recognized the phrase from one of Juliette’s letters. They’ve started up the eight-pack thing again, except it's very clearly their sarcastic way of calling me soft. You… I see you in everything beautiful, too. I’ve seen you everywhere, this past year.

Wait, were you calling spiders beautiful?

I don’t know any French, and can’t quote Victor Hugo back to you, but I still remember some Shakespeare from school. To end this letter:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see / So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

That’s… that’s the end of Sonnet 18. You just quoted Sonnet 18 to me. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day” Sonnet 18. Eddie. I want to kiss you so badly right now, this isn’t fair. I met you once, how can I love you this much?

You don’t have to be infallible or put on a brave face for me, Eds. All I need is you, wherever you are, however you feel. We can lean on each other. I’ll protect you from the spiders and the snakes, and anything else you might need. Us against the world.

I got invited to do karaoke with some people from the restaurant last weekend. I didn’t sing What I Like About You, though, because I’m saving that for when you and I can do it together, bang out an awesome duet. I sang Gasolina instead, showing off my Spanish (it wasn’t great, but they said my accent was coming along).

I don’t understand how I can miss you so much when these letters are most of what we’ve had. Each one brings me so much joy, but still, the memory of your laughter is fading. I wish I could’ve bottled it, that sound.

Still yours,

B

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

My darling B,

I’m just a man, and you make me weak. Sometimes I feel like a monster, but you, Buck, you make me feel human. Thank you. I love You mean a lot to me. If quoting Shakespeare to you gives you half of what you make me feel, I will send you every single sonnet. You are more lovely than a summer’s day, after all.

We had some downtime earlier, and you’ll never guess what happened. You’d think we were kids in the schoolyard and not trained soldiers. Chief and Binder decided to brawl, hand to hand. It was all friendly, but they were grappling around in the dust without a care in the world. Chief won, which was to be expected. He’s got like 3 inches on Binder. I was smart enough to bet on him, but Mills was not so lucky. She’s a bit pissed at Binder now, stole his pillow and hid it. It’s been entertaining watching him look for it.

I would’ve loved to watch you singing Gasolina, baby. I’m sure you crushed it.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ May 2014 ════

Eds,

Delilah and Emilio just got a puppy! He’s so sweet, I love him already. I got to meet him when I went over for dinner, he’s a mutt from the shelter and he’s the bestest boy, he already knows how to sit and roll over, it’s so impressive. We never had any pets growing up, and I haven’t really stayed in one place long enough to get one. I wouldn’t want to put them through all the traveling I do, y’know? Maybe if I settle down somewhere back in the US. Have you ever had pets? Do you want any? I’d get a dog, but cats are nice too. There were cats at James’ Ranch, that lived in the barn. One of them had a litter of kittens when I was working, and she showed them off to me all proud.

Congrats on choosing the winning wrestler. Do you ever get in on things like that, the roughhousing? I know you’ve got the muscles for it. And did Binder ever find his pillow? Pretty diabolical of Mills to hide it.

Also, here is your reminder that my birthday is in three weeks. You can’t say I let you miss it this year, unless this letter somehow gets lost in transit.

Here, get Mills to translate this for you: Les indifférents n'ont qu'une âme / Mais lorsqu'on aime, on en a deux.

Hablamos luego,

B

════ June 2014 ════

Buck,

I want you to know that Norwhal has told me to tell you to tell her boyfriend to take notes. That’s a convoluted sentence. It boils down to Norwhal saying we are ridiculous and that you have to stop being so amazing because she’s jealous. I disagree, please continue being amazing, it makes my day. Also, Mills says to stop using her to “avoid saying the sappy sh*t yourself”, a direct quote. I wouldn’t mind hearing it from you instead of her, though, so I’m on her side here.

Does the puppy have a name, other than bestest boy? We had a dog named Oliver when I was born, but he passed away when I was about 7, and we never got another. I guess three kids was enough for my parents to deal with.

I sometimes join in, but not with the roughhousing. If there’s sparing or boxing though, I’m in. My squadron on my last tour, we boxed a lot. I find it pretty meditative now. And yes, Binder found his pillow. Took him half an hour, but he found it. I still don’t know where Mills hid it, neither of them will say.

Thank you for the birthday reminder. I did in fact remember, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Keep an eye out, I might’ve gotten you a present. Happy birthday, beautiful. Enjoy it.

Quote of the day: A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

I can’t believe you actually sent me bubble wrap. How did you even manage that? Gael was so confused when the delivery arrived, I had to explain the whole thing to him and now he thinks I can’t ride horses! Which is untrue, as we’ve discussed. Even Applejack came around in the end.

I did enjoy my birthday, thank you. I went out for drinks with some friends from the restaurant and called Emma. Too bad you weren’t here to give me a birthday spanking, though.

The puppy’s name is Loki! He continues to be cute as button, and he knows how to shake a paw now. I love him and want to take him home with me, but I’m pretty sure Emilio would fire me if I stole his dog.

I see you, with the All’s Well That Ends Well. I didn’t have to trick you into anything, though. Just had to look pretty and congratulate you on a well-played game of pool.

You want me to say the sappy sh*t myself? Alright. You are one of my best friends, and if soulmates exist, I’m pretty sure you’re mine.

From the bottom of my heart,

B

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Hi beautiful,

Sorry for revealing your embarrassing past as someone who’s been bucked off a horse to your neighbor. Glad you got the bubble wrap though, it was a feat to arrange that. I had to ask Emma to get her sister to buy it, it was a whole thing. I can’t believe they managed to keep it a secret.

Please don’t get fired for stealing your boss’s dog, even if he is super cute. At least you can visit him at Emilio and Delilah’s house.

I don’t have much time right now, but I’m thinking about that comment, you know. Next birthday, maybe I’ll get you that instead of bubble wrap?

You didn’t have to trick me into anything. I fell right into you with my eyes wide open. If soulmates exist, pretty sure you’re mine too.

From now until whenever,

Eddie

════ July 2014 ════

Dear Eddie,

This letter is so late, it’s nearly August, sorry. The kitchen in my house flooded and I’ve been swamped with repairs, it sucks. I’ve been able to do most of it without having to hire anyone though, with my background in construction and some help from Emilio and Gael. I’ve refrained from stealing Loki, but only because you asked nicely.

Emma might be coming to visit next month, to see me and her sister! I’m pretty excited, calling isn’t the same and I used to spend hours just chatting with her almost every day. She’s going to bring me pictures from the Ranch, of the horses, so I can see how they’re doing. Speaking of pictures, I slipped one of me and Loki into this letter for you, so you can see that he really is the bestest boy.

I’ve got more repairs to do this weekend, we’re replacing the floor tiles now. It’s going to look like a whole new kitchen by the time we’re done, I swear.

Some Shakespeare from me to you, for a change: So are you to my thoughts as food to life / Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground.

Thinking of you always,

B

════ August 2014 ════

Evan,

I want you to know that when it’s getting rough over here, I think of that day at the bar. Winning that game of pool, sitting with you. Letting you take me home. I close my eyes, see that pretty smile you shot me when we woke up in the morning. Remember how it felt to hold you in my arms. Right now, I’m holding onto that memory like a good luck charm, baby.

I didn’t say it last time. I scratched it out. Maybe you saw it, maybe not. Either way, I’m saying it here. If soulmates exist, Evan, I’m pretty sure you’re mine, too.

I don’t want you to worry, but I won’t be able to write for a while. I’m sorry.

Eddie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eds,

You haven’t called me Evan in a while. Other than my sister, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who still does.

I think of that day a lot, too. It was… one of the best days I’ve ever had, I think. I’d only just met you, but you made me feel safe. It feels ridiculous to write this out, but even that very first day, Eddie, you felt like home.

I’m always going to worry. Please write me when you can.

From now until forever whenever,

B

════ October 2014 ════

Eddie,

It’s been a while. I know you said it would be a while, but it’s been a while. We haven’t gone this long without a letter since that very first one, I’m pretty sure. I don’t even know your squadron number, or whatever. Anything to identify who you're with. I don’t know where you are, other than Afghanistan. I’m not your family, I can’t find you. Even if I did know anything, would they tell me? All I’ve got is Edmundo Diaz, combat medic, gorgeous brown eyes and sweet as sin, mine but not really.

It’s been a while, Eddie. Write me back, please. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Literally just the word hello on a piece of paper. Or call me. You could call me. I’ll pay you back, whatever the stupid international fees are.

Please. I think I’m in love with you.

Always,

Buck

════ November 2014 ════

Eddie,

Please. Write me, call me, have your name in the news. Something. Anything. Please.

Buck

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie,

You said. You said from now until whenever. Every letter, without fail, that was the sign-off. Except for the last one. You didn’t sign your last letter like that.

Is this whenever? Have we reached it?

It’s your birthday today. Did you make it to 26? Happy birthday, Eds.

Buck

════ December 2014 ════

Eddie,

Eddie, it's been almost four f*cking months. Four months, and nothing. God. You better write me back soon. Emma was here when I got that last letter. She keeps asking me if you’ve written, and I’ve got nothing to say. You better not be dead. I’m waiting, Eddie. I love you. Please.

Forever and always, from now until the end,

Buck

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Letter came for you, Buck. They put it in the wrong box, as always.”

“You’d think they’d have it figured out by now,” Evan laughed, grabbing the letter from his neighbor. “Thanks, Gael, appreciate it.”

Gael sat back down in the rocking chair on his porch, and Buck grabbed his keys from his pocket, peeking down at the letter in his hands.

The keys clattered to the ground, Buck following after. His knees just… gave in. There was- there was ringing, in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything.

He couldn’t breathe.

“-uck! Buck, what’s wrong?”

Gael’s hand was on his shoulder, touching his forehead, grabbing his arm. Evan couldn’t see, couldn’t hear past the ringing. Could feel the tears flooding down his face, the tears he hadn’t let himself cry. He’d been waiting. He’d been hoping, not daring to think that anything was wrong. He’d waited.

Buck stared unseeing at the letter in his hand, lying limply on his lap. At the address he had hastily scrawled, at the stamps he’d licked and stuck to the envelope. At the big blue stamp across the front, covering up Eddie’s name.

Undeliverable: Return to Sender

Evan Buckley knelt in his front garden and wept.

Chapter 4: Try to stop the feeling

Chapter Text

Buck had picked up a fair amount of Spanish over the past year in Peru, enough that he had started working as a server at Emilio’s restaurant when they needed extra help instead of just washing dishes in the back. If you sat him at a desk and asked him to write a test, he’d definitely fail, but he knew enough conversation to navigate a restaurant setting. Bars too, at this point.

He wished Eddie could have-

Buck was thinking about getting a job bartending again. He appreciated Emilio and Delilah, and it's not that he didn't enjoy working at the restaurant, but he'd spent a lot of time the past few years bartending. He was qualified, and it was comfortable. Plus, it would probably help him even more with his Spanish. And he needed to make some more friends. Once again, nothing against Emilio and Delilah, but he needed some friends who weren't married. He had Gael, and Emma, and Eddie, but-

He was going to see about getting a job as a bartender.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck asked around, and it turned out that one of the resorts nearby had been looking for a bartender. It was actually a bonus that English was his first language, because he would mostly be serving tourists. He’d had a really cursory interview, mostly to demonstrate that he hadn’t forgotten everything he'd learned in Virginia, and by the end of the week he had a new job.

After his first day, he got home and called Emma. It was really nice that Texas and Peru were in the same time zone, made calling a lot easier. Too bad he couldn’t have called with Ed-

“Buck! How’s it going?” Came Emma’s voice from his phone speaker.

“Hey Emma! It’s going, it’s going. You know how it is.” He shrugged, trying to mask the sadness that had welled up in his throat. “Started my job at that resort today. I’m still learning the ropes, but, well, bars are bars everywhere.”

“Ain’t that the truth. How’s my sister?”

“What, don’t you talk to her yourself?” Buck laughed. “She’s doing well. Might have some gossip for you, though, actually.”

“Oh really? Do tell.”

Buck settled into his couch, getting more comfortable. “Okay, so, I was over at her place for dinner on Tuesday, right? And you know how much your sister likes wine. She’s basically the unofficial sommelier of the restaurant.” Buck paused, waiting for Emma to respond.

“Mhm, mhm, yes, and?”

“And,” Buck said, drawing out the word, “we opened a bottle with dinner and she didn’t have so much as a sip.”

He held the phone away from his ear as Emma let out a little shriek. “OHMYGOD! Buck! Do you think…” She trailed off.

“Do I think she’s got a bun in the oven? 100% yes. She’ll probably tell you before she tells me though, so keep me in the loop, yeah?”

“Yes, yeah, of course. You’re like, my best friend. What am I gonna do, not tell you that I’m about to be an aunt?”

Buck felt something tighten in his chest at that. He’d only had one best friend before, really, and at this point he wasn’t sure if she counted. Could he still call his sister his best friend, when they hadn’t seen each other in years and she hadn’t replied to his last three emails? And then there was Eddie, but he-

“Buck? You still there?”

He drew in a breath and refocused on Emma’s voice. “Yeah, yeah I’m here. Sorry. Been a long day.”

“I’ll bet. First days usually are. Was it busy, at the resort?”

“A steady stream, but nothing crazy. And there was someone else there the whole time, too. I haven’t learned all of the specialty drink names yet, but a lot of people just stick to vacation basics if they get fancy about it. I’m sure by next week I’ll be able to make a piña colada in my sleep.” He’d served 30 of those just today, he wouldn’t be surprised if his dreams were full of rum and coconuts.

“You’ll have them memorized before you know it, Buck. Your brain is good at stuff like that. I give it until February, at the latest. Speaking of work though, I’ve got to head in for my shift soon. Talk later?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Bye, Emma.”

“Bye, Buck. I’m here for you, if you need me, remember?”

“I know. Thanks.”

Buck set the phone down and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. He spotted a spider in the corner and let out a half-hearted chuckle that quickly turned into a sob. Eddie hated spiders.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck knew he was hot, this was not a surprise to him. And he’d worked at bars before, too. He was used to being flirted with, to flirting with customers to pass the time. He’d never taken it any further than that, really, but some of the people at the resort were truly relentless. Groups of girls getting day drunk on vacation could be very persistent.

And maybe… maybe Buck liked it. Maybe Buck wanted a distraction, maybe he wasn’t making the best decisions. Who cared, though? Not him, and not any of them, that’s for sure. They only ever had good things to say.

“Wow,” came the voice of the woman laying beside him. “You are… really good at that.”

Buck propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her, smirking. “Thank you. I appreciate the feedback.”

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “Thank you, though. Really. I think this is exactly what the doctor ordered.”

“An org*sm on vacation in Peru? They write scripts for that?”

“Hey, don’t fish,” she smacked his arm half-heartedly. “You did good, I’m satisfied, A plus. No more compliments, now.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking for where his shirt had ended up. “Not fishing, it was an honest question! Wondering what doctor I should start going to.”

She just laughed, sinking deeper into the sheets.

“You were great, too,” he said, finally having located his shirt. It was on the chair in the corner, smartly, along with his shorts. And his underwear were right beside the bed. “I’ve gotta head out though, if I want to make it home in time to get a good sleep.”

“Oh, of course. Can’t have you off your game at the bar tomorrow.” She didn’t get up, watching as Buck redressed and slid his shoes back on. “See you around, Evan?”

“At least until you head back to… where was it, again? Louisiana?”

“Mhm. Don’t mention that, though. I’m on vacation for a couple more days yet, I don’t want to think of going back home.”

Buck winked, hand on the door. “I wouldn’t dare. See you around.”

“Buh-bye.”

He exited the room, closing the door behind him, and just stood in the hallway for a moment, getting his bearings. Someone opened a door further down the hall, and Buck startled. Before anyone could see him standing there, probably with sex hair, Buck made his way out of the building and headed home.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Do you even know their names, Buck?” asked Emma, the call on speakerphone while Buck reheated some leftovers that Delilah had dropped off yesterday.

“I- Most of them, yeah, why? What does it matter? We’re all adults, it’s consensual.”

Emma was quiet for a minute. Buck swirled the pasta around with a spoon.

“Just… are you at least being safe?”

Buck rolled his eyes, sighing. “Yes, Emma,” he snapped. “I’m being safe, I’m using protection. I get tested every 3 months. Is that good enough, or do you need a detailed run-down?”

“Buck,” she said, and he could feel her disappointment through the phone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, turning off the heat on the stove. The pasta was probably warm enough. “I’m just… why does it matter, Emma? Why do you care? We’re adults having fun, that’s all it is.”

“I care because I care about you, Evan. And this… it just doesn’t seem healthy, alright? I know you loved him, but-”

“Stop,” Buck interrupted. “Just stop.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit extreme?”

“Emma-”

“He would’ve wanted you to move on, not throw yourself overboard, Buck.”

“You didn’t know him, Emma. I barely knew him, really. But you didn’t know him. How could you know what he wants?” Buck didn’t know what Eddie would have thought about his behavior. He’d probably have something to say about how ethical or unethical it was to sleep with customers.

“You did know him. Maybe I didn’t, I’ll concede there, but you did.”

“Whatever. Can we talk about something else?” He pleaded, grabbing a fork and sitting down, pasta still in the pan. Why bother with a plate when it was just him?

“...Yeah, Buck. We can.” She paused for a second, and Buck took a bite of his dinner. It was delicious, like everything Delilah made. “So, Delilah finally told me she was pregnant today. Five months along, due in July, can you believe-”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Right there, f*ck, don’t stop,” moaned the guy underneath him, facedown against the mattress.

Buck didn’t stop. He kept going, listening to his moaned instructions until they cut off with a muffled shout. The man collapsed, whimpering softly, and a couple moments later Buck pulled out, flopping over to the side and staring at the ceiling.

“Damn,” groaned his partner. Buck thought his name might be Luke, but he wasn’t sure. “You sure are a good lay.”

“Thanks,” Buck chuckled, a bit out of breath.

“I thought they were hyping you up for sure, that bachelorette party that was here last week. After that, though, I’m not sure if they were giving you enough credit.”

The. The bachelorette party last week? The bachelorette party last week. Oh my god, Buck thought. They’re talking about me.

He remembered the bachelorette party. They’d hired a stripper. Buck had been on his way out for the night, been the one to direct him to the room the ladies had rented. And then he had stayed, because he was curious, because he’d never seen a male stripper before. Because they’d asked if he wanted to stay and watch, and his other options were to drink alone or go home to an empty house.

Buck had stayed.

Buck had stayed, and he had done more than watch. They’d gotten him involved. The stripper, he’d given them the name John, he’d walked Buck through what to do, and so Buck had stripped too. And then he’d taken two of the ladies to bed, after. He couldn’t remember their names, but he remembered the night, mostly. He still had John’s business card, phone number written on the back. He’d offered to teach Buck more, if he was interested. Buck was still thinking about it.

“Oh, “ he said finally. “Um, good to know that I live up to the hype?”

“Mm,” hummed Luke (Luca? Liam? Something with an L). “You sticking around?”

“Ah, no. Sorry,” Buck said, not really all that sorry. “I’ve gotta head home, brunch plans tomorrow.”

“Too bad. Could’ve gone again in the morning.” He opened one eye, looking at Buck.

Buck smiled, trying to look apologetic, and got out of the bed. “Another time, maybe.”

Luke closed his eyes again, burying his face in the pillow. “Maybe. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He gathered the rest of his clothes, putting them on as quickly as he could, and left.

When he got home, he found the stripper’s card, tucked into his wallet, and opened up a new text thread.

04/02/2015, 23:42

To: John (?)

Hey, this is Evan from the bachelorette party last week. You still willing to teach me what you know?

04/03/2015, 00:15

From: John (?)

Hi Evan. I’d love to. Are you free Tuesday?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The room was a mess. The sheets were strewn across the floor, pillows too. What little art Buck had put up on the walls was now on the floor, some of the frames cracked, and the small bookshelf he kept beside his bed was toppled over. He was afraid to pick it up, because he was pretty sure all the books would just slide right out. That was a problem for tomorrow, when he hadn’t just spent god-knows how long bawling his eyes out.

It was April.

Buck stared at the chaos, slumped against the wall in the corner where his laundry basket usually sat. His cheeks were sticky with tears, and his eyes stung. He should really put a wet washcloth on them now if he wanted to look okay at work tomorrow. Standing up seemed like too much work, though.

He could hear his phone ringing from the living room. It was probably Emilio, calling to see why he wasn’t at dinner. Buck didn’t know why he wasn’t at dinner. He’d had an earlier shift today, done at 3, home by 4. Dinner was at 8. He’d planned on doing the dishes and some laundry before heading over, and picking up dessert on the way. Clearly, something had happened, because his watch read 20:47 and instead of being at dinner he was sitting on the floor in his bedroom and he felt like he’d fought a shark and lost.

It was April. Two years. They hadn't even gotten two years.

There was a knock at his door. Buck didn’t move. Whoever it was knocked again, louder.

“Go ‘way!” Buck shouted. It came out sounding strangled, his throat raw.

A couple seconds passed, and then there was the sound of keys in the lock, and the creak of the door.

“Buck?” said Gael. Buck could hear him making his way through the house, back towards his room.

“Go away, Gael,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re really not,” he replied, surveying the disaster Buck had made of his room.

Buck just closed his eyes, head thumping back against the wall.

It was April.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Stripping was pretty cool. It required a lot more work than Buck had thought, it was kind of like a dance, and gymnastics? A bit? And there were rules, for giving away just enough to leave them wanting more. It was hard, but Buck was having fun, too. It had been about a month since John had started teaching him, and he said Buck was coming along nicely.

He wasn't planning on doing anything with the skill, really, other than as a bit of a party trick. He'd used it a couple times these past few weeks, giving some lap dances and just generally… seducing people? He guessed? And it was nice to do something that worked on his flexibility other than, y'know, yoga and stretching. John was planning on teaching him some moves on the pole, too. Buck was excited. Learning something new made it easy to take his mind off everything he was running from.

Not that he was running from anything.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Emma! Oh my god, shut up."

“I'm just saying,” She whined. “I'm excited to be an aunt, but it's really weird to be confronted with the fact that my sister and her husband f*cked raw.”

“Yeah, it is, so why're you making me confront it too?”

“You know what they say, Buck, a burden shared is a burden halved.”

Buck stopped pacing, pulling his phone away from his ear to glare at it, like Emma would be able to feel it somehow. “Emma. You better not have traumatized me with that thought as a ploy to get me to talk about something I've told you I don't want to talk about.”

There was silence across the line.

“Emma. Really?”

“Can you blame me, Buck? Delilah told me you missed dinner twice last month, and cancelled on brunch last weekend. She said Gael had to use his key more than once.”

Buck winced. He forgot, sometimes, that two of his closest friends were sisters who talked about pretty much everything. It seemed like him and the baby were their favorite topics of conversation as of late, too.

“I'm-”

“Don't you dare say fine, Evan Buckley.”

“God, don't break out my full name like that. You sound like my sister.” He missed Maddie. He hadn't heard back from her in months now, though he’d kept sending her emails and postcards, just in case. He had- he’d never told her, about Eddie. In the beginning it was because he’d been pretty sure she wouldn’t approve of his… whatever it was, with a solider through the mail. And then it had been too long to mention it casually, and then-

“Stop deflecting.”

“I don't know what you want me to say, Em. I'm fine.” He was done having this conversation.

“Buck-”

He hung up the phone.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Connor was really hot, in a frat boy kind of way. He'd arrived last week with a group of guys celebrating the end of their exams, and while they'd been a bit obnoxious, it wasn't more so than any other group who'd stayed there in the five months Buck had been bartending at the resort. Buck had been a little wary at first that they'd say something off, because he flirted shamelessly with anyone who crossed his bar, but they all seemed chill. Connor was even a bit receptive, if the looks he shot Buck any time it was his turn to grab drinks were any indication.

Speaking of…

“Evan, my man! Another round?” Connor strolled up to the bar and flung himself into one of the seats, smile wide on his face and cheeks a bit flushed.

“Coming right up, Connor.” He reached under the counter to grab 5 bottles from the fridge, and got to work popping off the caps.

“Hey, you remembered my name!”

Buck co*cked an eyebrow at Connor's expression. He seemed genuinely surprised. “Pretty face like yours, how could I forget?”

Connor blushed, adding to the redness already present on his cheeks, his eyes flicking away. “Oh, well, I-”

Buck took pity on him and pulled out the card machine. “Thirty dollars, Connor. Whenever you're ready.”

Connor paid and carefully gathered up the bottles to bring them back to his friends. He got about two steps away before he turned around to look at Buck again. “Hey, Evan? When do you get off tonight?”

Interesting. Buck hadn't pegged Connor as someone who'd initiate that strongly, especially since he was here with ‘the guys’. He decided to have a bit of fun with it.

“I'll get off when you do,” he said, winking. “But my shift ends at 8, if that's what you were asking.”

Connor glanced at his friends before squaring his shoulders and making eye contact with Buck, looking determined. “Come by my room when you’re off? 207, on the second floor.”

Buck ran his tongue along his teeth, giving Connor a blatant once-over before he nodded. “See you at 8, then.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

He sat at his kitchen table, his head in his hands. In front of him was a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, long gone cold, only one bite taken. They were half as good as they’d smelled and twice as good as they’d looked.

Buck didn't have any more tears left to cry.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

He didn't tell anyone it was his birthday. It was a Wednesday, he was 24, Eddie wasn't there, and he didn't care. Delilah and Emilio had him over for breakfast before his shift started and the restaurant opened for lunch, and he'd answered Emma's call around noon, on his break. The day passed. He worked, he went home, he reheated some food for dinner. He got ready for bed.

Buck opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out the stack of letters, tied together with a piece of twine, fuzzy from the knot being done and redone all the time. Right on top sat an envelope that he had sealed himself, unopened, blue stamp across the front.

He set that one aside and grabbed the next one, slipping the papers out and carefully unfolding them. Buck started to read.

He didn’t go to bed until well after midnight.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

07/17/2015, 16:32

From: Hey there, Delilah

Buck, if you cancel on us again I'm going to make Emma come and drag you to dinner.

07/17/2015, 16:32

From: Hey there, Delilah

Is that what you want, Buck? Do you want me to make my sister pay all that money for a flight just because you’re avoiding me?

07/17/2015, 16:40

From: Hey there, Delilah

I am 9 months pregnant and ready to pop, Buck. That doesn't mean I can't come and drag you over here myself if need be.

07/17/2015, 16:58

To: Hey there, Delilah.

I'm coming to dinner, Dee. I promise. I'll see you in a few hours.

07/17/2015, 17:03

From: Hey there, Delilah

You'd better. Loki misses you.

07/17/2015, 17:05

To: Hey there, Delilah

Just Loki?

07/17/2015, 17:05

From: Hey there, Delilah

Shut up, you brat. You already know that I miss you, why else would I be strong-arming you into coming over?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The baby was born on Friday, July 24th, 2015. 6 pounds, 3 ounces. Emilio and Delilah named her Ariana.

“We've been calling her Riri, as a nickname,” Emilio said to Buck a few days after her birth. “Do you want to hold her?”

Buck made sure he was steady before he said yes, and cradled the little girl in his arms. If his tears were more sad than happy, no one but him could tell.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“f*ck,” Buck groaned, hands holding tight to the headboard behind him as Connor sucked a hickey onto his chest, the movement of their hips strong enough to rock the bed. “Harder, Connor.”

He could feel the other man smile in response, and the slapping of skin-on-skin got louder.

A while later, Buck and Connor were sprawled out in bed, limbs tangled together, both of them panting and sweaty.

“Damn, Evan. I'm glad we came back to this place again.” Connor looked at him, eyes half-lidded. “We almost went somewhere new, since we're starting our MBAs in a few weeks and Ty felt like that deserved something special, y'know?”

“Hm,” Buck hummed, relishing in the afterglow for once. “Business? Where d'you go?”

“UCLA. You ever been to California?”

Buck stared at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said. “Once.” When he'd thought he might want to become a SEAL. His life would've turned out a lot differently if he’d gone that route.

“You should-” Connor sat up, jostling Buck. “You should come back with us, Evan.”

He turned to look at Connor, confusion plain on his face. “What?”

“Come to LA with us! We have an open room, one of our housemates moved out in April because he decided he didn't want to get his Master's, you could, y'know, join us. In LA.”

“What are you talking about, Connor?”

“We've got this bitchin’ craftsman in Arcadia, and an empty room. You'd fit right in. Ocean's only an hour away.”

“You guys all live together?” Buck was so, so confused.

“Yeah, we're kind of a family.” Connor brushed a hand through Buck's hair. “C'mon, Evan. LA. A new adventure. What d'you say?”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Buck. What do you mean, you're moving to LA?”

“I mean I'm moving to LA, Emma,” Buck replied, in the middle of packing another suitcase.

“With some guy you just met?” He could practically taste the judgment in her voice.

“I didn't just meet him. It's August, I met him in May.”

“Yeah, for a week, where he didn't do anything other than f*ck your brains out and drink beer by the pool, if I'm remembering correctly.”

“We talked, too. And it was two weeks.” He pushed down on the top of the bag, trying in vain to force the zipper closed.

“I don't know if pillow talk counts, Buck.”

“I didn't call for you to be judgy, Emma. I called so you could help me arrange to get the Jeep shipped to California.”

“Too bad. If you want my help, you have to put up with my very valid concerns, first. What are you even going to do in LA?”

Buck rolled his eyes, but only because she couldn't see it over the phone. “Everywhere I've moved has been with nothing but a hope and prayer, and it's worked out alright for me so far, Emma.”

“So what’s the hope for this move?”

Buck hesitated, unsure how honest to be. “Do you remember how my apartment burnt down, when we first got here?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well, I was thinking… I was thinking I might get a degree in fire safety and then… Become a firefighter? There's a program in Long Beach, it’d take about a year and a half, and then five months or so at the Academy. And then I'd, you know, fight fires.”

“... Wow, Buck. That’s a little more than a hope,” Emma said, shocked. “That's a- that's a plan. For an education, and a career. That's a plan to settle down.”

“Yeah,” Buck said softly. “I guess it kind of is, isn't it?”

“Hey now, don't you go getting shy on me. I think it's a good plan, Buck.” There was a short pause. “Firefighter Buckley. It suits you.”

“Don't jinx it, Em!”

“I won't, I won't,” she laughed. “So, what's this guy's name again? Address? Social security number?”

Buck finally got the suitcase zipped up, and placed it down with the other two. “I'll email it to you, Emma. Just promise not to stalk him online, okay?”

“I promise nothing.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Okay, so,” Connor said, leading him down the hall. “This room on the left is Ty's, next door is Matty, and they share this bathroom here.”

Buck looked around the house as Connor gave him the grand tour. It was clearly a house shared by 4 guys in their early 20s, but he'd seen far worse.

“Kitchen, living room, pretty standard,” Connor continued. “Be careful on the third step, it's kind of wobbly.”

He was careful of the third step, and then watched Connor's ass the rest of the way up the stairs.

“My room is right here at the top, to the right. Ryan's is at the end, bathroom beside it. I've got the master with an ensuite, so it's just you and him sharing that. And then this one is yours!”

Connor swung open the door and gestured inside. It was pretty bare, but there was a double bed, a desk, a dresser, and a built-in closet. The window didn't look onto anything stunning, but it did let in some nice natural light, and it seemed like the walls had been painted pretty recently.

“So?” Asked Connor. “What do you think?”

“I think I’ve got a bed to christen,” Buck smiled, pulling him into the room and closing the door behind them. “And you should call me Buck. All my friends do.”

Chapter 5: A new excuse, another stupid reason

Chapter Text

Buck was in the washroom, in Connor’s washroom specifically, knelt over the toilet and sobbing his heart out. This was maybe not the best way to kick off his move to LA.

Connor sat on the floor behind him, rubbing his back and holding a glass of water. “You, uh, you doin’ okay, Evan?”

“I’m- I’m-” Buck hiccuped, and then gagged.

“Woah, you’re good, man,” he felt Connor gently push his head down. “Keep your head over the toilet, you know the drill.”

Buck did know the drill. He’d been horribly drunk and hungover many times before. Never with so much… turmoil, though.

“He’s f*cking gone,” Buck cried, voice echoing back at him. “Can’t believe he f*ckin’ just, died, or whatever.”

“Uh- yeah. That’s, that’s tough, um-”

“Before, before the, working at the resort, he was. He was like the only person to call me Evan, still, y’know?” Buck looked up, craning to see Connor over his shoulder. “That’s why- I didn’t mean to-” He turned back to the toilet just in time.

Connor kept rubbing circles on his back. It felt nice. “You, uh, you’ve never cried before, when I called you, um, Evan?”

Buck moaned, low and guttural. “Was a year ago today.”

Connor’s hand stilled. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” Buck mumbled, leaning his cheek on the toilet seat.

“No, that’s- I’m sorry, Evan. Buck,” he corrected. “I’m sorry, Buck.” Connor wouldn’t look at him, his eyes flitting around the room.

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the party downstairs drifting through the crack in the door. Buck let his eyes fall closed, the porcelain cool against his face.

“So, um, are you. Are you feeling better, now?”

He opened his eyes, sitting up a bit straighter, and took stock. His stomach was still rolling, but more like a wave pool than the ocean. He was pretty sure he could stand up and be fine. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Here, then,” Connor handed him the glass of water. “Drink that and then, y’know, brush your teeth and get to bed, okay?” He got to his feet.

“You gonna… you gonna head back down?”

“I am, yeah. Night is young, party is still going strong. Looked like Ty had a whole group of girls cheering him on for beer pong, too.” Connor smirked, finally looking at Buck. “Might see if I can beat his ass and have them cheering for me instead.”

Right. Buck had forgotten, for a moment, what this was. Connor and him, they weren’t dating. Buck was fun, and when Buck wasn’t fun, Connor would find it elsewhere. At least he’d stayed until Buck finished throwing up.

“Good luck,” Buck said, flushing the toilet and moving to wash his hands and splash some water on his face.

“Hey, thanks! Feel better, alright?”

“You got it.”

20 minutes later, Buck was in his own room. He’d drunk a couple of glasses of water, brushed his teeth, and changed into some sweatpants. He laid down on his bed, but didn't feel like sleeping yet. Like Connor had said, the night was still young. It was only just after 11, and if he went to bed now, Buck was sure he’d have nightmares. They always came on nights like this

If Buck was doing the math right, though, it was 1 am in Texas. Emma would probably be awake. Chancing it, he picked up his phone and gave her a call.

She picked up on the second ring. “Buck? What’s up?”

Something in his throat tightened, and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes again. God, hadn’t he cried enough today?

“Buck,” came Emma’s voice again, “You there?”

He cleared his throat. “Y-yeah, Emma. I’m… I’m here.”

“Oh, Buck.” He could hear noise in the back of the call, getting quieter, like she was moving further away from the hubbub. Was it really that obvious how wrecked he was?

He laughed, and it sounded wet even to his ears. “I miss him, Em. I miss him so goddamn much. He-” Buck stopped, a sob wrenching its way out of him. “He just blew into my life and changed it like it was nothing, and now he’s gone.”

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“He didn’t even- I told him so much about myself, you know? And just, the day-to-day. Everywhere I’ve lived. You don’t even know everywhere I’ve lived.”

“No, I know a bit of it but…” she trailed off.

“He never even told me where he grew up, where he lived when I met him. I assumed he was from Texas, y’know, but he never told me. How f*cked up is that?”

Emma didn’t say anything.

“I read those letters over and over, hoping to find something else, something new, and it’s never there. They’re in a, a f*cking box. Under my bed. I- f*ck, Emma, I loved him,” he sobbed. “I loved him and I didn’t even know him.”

Buck curled up on his side, holding his knees to his chest, phone on the pillow beside him. Tears dripped down his face and over his nose. The bass thumped below, so loud it shook the floor, and the party raged on.

“I loved him, Emma. How do you move on from that?”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The first time Buck went to school, it’s possible he got kicked out in his second term. Maybe because he used his tuition money to buy a motorcycle (which he then crashed, but that’s neither here nor there). That was in the second term, though. He had successfully completed the first one, which meant he didn’t have to worry about the general English and Math requirements for his degree, they transferred over to Long Beach City College. He could go right into the fire science classes, of which there were quite a few. He’d called with an advisor and she’d helped him sort it all out, because he’d applied, like, really late? It was kind of a hassle, but Buck was dead-set on this, and he was making it happen.

It would be 2 years, 4 terms. He would graduate, have commencement, whatever, in June of 2017. This term, he was taking two fire science classes, intro to Latinx literature, and a course about men’s health issues. And he had to find a job.

sh*t.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck found two jobs, because it was an hour commute to campus and gas was not cheap. He worked at a dive bar near the house on weekends, and a café just off of campus during the week. Buck was a people person, so it worked for him. It kept his mind busy too, because when he wasn’t studying or sleeping, or sleeping with someone, he was working.

“Café Mocha for… Tiffany?” he called out, looking at the small crowd by the pickup counter.

A tall blonde raised her hand in an aborted motion before she took a step forward, blushing. “That’s mine. Thanks.”

Buck slid the cup across the counter with a wink. “Anytime, Tiffany.”

He got started on the next order, an easy-peasy black iced coffee. When he turned around to shout it out, though, he noticed a napkin on the counter with some writing. He handed off the drink (to a guy named Mark) and picked it up to read it.

562-xxx-xxxx Call me ;) -Tiffany

That was… the third number he’d gotten this week. She was really pretty, though, so Buck folded up the napkin and stuck it in his back pocket. He’d text her later. It’s not like Connor would care.

10/21/2015, 21:15

To: Tiffany (café mocha)

Hi Tiffany. This is Buck, from Nordic Cup?

10/21/2015, 21:49

From: Tiffany (café mocha)

OMG you texted me! Hello :)

10/21/2015, 21:53

To: Tiffany (café mocha)

Haha, yeah. Would you be down to grab a drink sometime?

10/21/2015, 21:54

From: Tiffany (café mocha)

I’d love to ;) Are you free tomorrow night?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The bar was f*cking packed. Buck was expecting it, because it was New Year’s Eve, but still. He hadn’t worked on a holiday in a while, and it was crazy. There was a constant crowd at the counter, always someone asking for a new drink. Most of them were courteously ordering shots, beers, champagne, or standard mixed drinks, but every so often someone asked for something fancier. Case in point, Tyler had made his way to the front of the crowd and ordered another cosmo.

The thing that had bugged Buck every time he’d had to make one this evening was that Ty didn’t even really like cosmos. He didn’t hate them, but he was only ordering them because they were pink and he thought the girls would appreciate his “lack of toxic masculinity” if they saw him with a pink drink. What bugged Buck the most, though, was that it worked. And that Ty didn’t tip. None of the guys did, not with any frequency. Buck wasn’t sure if it was because he lived with them, or if they were just sh*tty like that. He didn’t really care about the reason. He gave them discounts when the bar was calmer, the least they could do was tip him.

He handed Ty his pretty pink drink right as Connor reached the bar, arm slung over the shoulders of a girl in a cute dress covered in sequins. Her makeup was super sparkly, too, and she was wearing a pair of the 2016 glasses they’d been handing out at the door.

“Buck! Got any more champagne back there?” Connor asked. “This lovely lady and I need a couple glasses.”

The girl laughed, leaning into Connor. Buck was not jealous. He and Connor had been blowing off steam with one another pretty steadily for 6 months now, but it was casual. Buck could do casual. He wasn’t jealous at all.

“Uh, yeah, two glasses of champagne coming right up, Connor.”

“See,” Buck could just barely hear him saying to her, “Told you I knew the bartender.”

He finished pouring and slid the glasses across to them. “16 bucks,” he said, smiling widely.

Connor handed him a twenty, he handed Connor four ones. Connor put all four of them in his pocket. His company for the evening looked at him. “What, just because you know him you’re not gonna tip? He’s working New Year’s Eve, Con.”

Buck started helping the next customer, watching their interaction out of the corner of his eye.

Connor laughed and rolled his eyes. “Lucy. C’mon. We literally live together. Either way, the dollar is probably going towards the bills.”

She shrugged his arm off her shoulders and pulled the wallet out of her own purse. “It’s the principal of it. If you’re not going to, I will.”

Connor tilted his head to the ceiling and sighed, reaching into his pocket again. “Fine, Lucy. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll give him the dollar. He can give it back to me on the 15th for rent.”

She stared at him as he leaned over to place the bill in the jar on the bartop, clearly unimpressed, and put another dollar in herself. Then she picked up her glass and stepped away from him. “I’m gonna go back to my friends, I think. Happy New Year, Connor.”

Connor watched her walk away, and then downed his whole glass of champagne.

Buck smiled to himself, and when Lucy came back to the bar later to order a round of shots for her friends, he gave her a discount.

She wrote her number on his hand.

Connor ignored him for a week, until he walked in on Buck in the middle of his workout routine one day and decided to drag him to bed. He still didn’t tip when he ordered drinks from Buck, though.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It was April, again. Already, somehow. He was nearly done with his first year at LBCC, only had a couple months left to go, and he was still working at Station and Nordic Cup, still living in what was basically a frat house in Arcadia. It was a very different place than he’d been three years ago, working as a Ranch Hand in Texas. Two years ago, washing dishes in Peru. Last year, working at the resort. The only constant had been Emma, really.

“Buck, hey! Thanks for picking up.”

“Yeah, always,” he said. “What's up?”

“Ah, nothing, really,” She said sheepishly. “Just wanted to hear your voice. Feels like you've been too busy to chat, lately.”

He had been pretty busy. He'd been keeping himself busy on purpose, but it helped that his schedule was packed. He was taking a couple more fire science classes, a course about athletic injuries, and a history one about how to differentiate facts from speculation this term, along with working probably 30 hours a week between both of his job. And then there was homework and all the physical training he was doing to prepare for the tests he'd have to pass next year. He hadn't meant to lose touch with Emma, it had just kinda… happened. He was glad that she'd called him today.

“I've been busy, yeah, but never too busy to gab with you, Em.”

He could hear her smile through the phone. “Good, then,” She said. “Life update, I might have a boyfriend?”

“Wait, really? Did a decent man finally wander his way into the bar?”

“We both know that only one decent man ever wandered in here, Buck,” she paused, letting that settle for a minute before she continued. “No. No, I ran into him at the grocery store, of all places.”

“You hate the grocery store. What did he do, rearrange the aisles to make more sense? Bring you a step stool to reach the top shelves?”

“Shut up, Buckley,” she huffed. “You know the layout isn't logical! Why are the cleaning supplies in between the baking aisle and the cereal? Why is the packaged bread so far from the bakery? It's so stupid.”

“Yes, yes,” he replied, spinning around in his desk chair. “I’m well informed on your opinions about the grocery store. What's this about a boyfriend, though? Are you gonna tell me, or…?”

“Don't laugh.”

“Don't laugh? Why would I laugh?”

“You won't laugh, because I'm telling you not to laugh!”

“Fine, Em,” he placated. “Just please tell me. I'm on the edge of my seat, here.” Metaphorically, of course. He was actually pretty relaxed, just kinda flopped over his chair.

“I was making a fool of myself, jumping up to grab those cookies, the ones with the jelly in them? That are always on the top shelf specifically to spite me, I think. And I knocked over an entire display of Teddy Grahams-”

Buck laughed.

“I said don't laugh! Buck! Shut up.”

“No- no, that's-” He took a deep breath, gathering himself. “Hoo boy. Alright. Straight face, not laughing. Please continue.”

“So I knocked over the display, made a big mess of it, and he turned into the aisle just as it all toppled over, and he started to help me tidy it all without asking or anything, and we literally had one of those movie moments where our hands brushed as we reached for the same bag, and our eyes met, and then he asked for my number and we've been on five dates so far and I just-”

“Take a breath, Emma,” Buck interrupted.

She breathed. “Right, yes, thank you. We've been on five dates, and… I really like him, Buck.”

“I'm happy for you, Em. You deserve it. He seems kind, and if he's making you happy…”

“He is,” She replied, her voice soft. “He really is.”

“Then I'm happy, truly. It sounds like you found a good one.”

“Well, you scooped up the last good man to grace this town. Only fair that I found this one.”

Buck tilted forward, leaning his forehead against the surface of his desk. “I did, didn't I? Three years ago this week.”

“Oh-” Emma started. “I. sh*t. sh*t, yeah, I guess it was. I… I forgot.”

He huffed a laugh, eyes closed. “S'alright, didn't expect you to remember, really.”

“And here I am, talking about my new man. Jeez, Buck, you couldn't've stopped me?”

“I didn't want to, Emma. I like… I like to hear how you're doing, and I like knowing you're happy. I don't want you to dampen that, just because I'm wallowing.”

There was quiet over the line for a minute, until Emma spoke again. “Alright. Try not to wallow too much, okay?”

“I'll try,” Buck said.

“That's all I'm asking, Buck. Just try. There's- there are good things around, if you look for them.”

He hummed in agreement and eyed the stack of papers on his desk, detailing the requirements for applying to the LAFD. Buck was looking for the good things. His world hadn't ended, even if it felt like it sometimes.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The music was so f*cking loud. Buck knew this was what he’d signed up for when he moved in with a bunch of business school former frat boys, but it was really inconvenient when he needed to study and didn’t want to go to the library. The bass thumped, people were singing and sporadically shouting or cheering, and Buck had his nose in a book, trying desperately to memorize fire prevention codes.

The last time he’d ventured downstairs to make a desperately needed cup of coffee, Connor had been in the kitchen, making out with a girl sitting on the counter and oblivious to his surroundings. Ty’d been playing beer pong against Matty, his usual crowd of hype men and women cheering him on, and Ryan had been… Somewhere. Buck wasn’t really sure what Ryan did when these parties went on. He’d probably said three words to the guy in the 9 months he’d lived with him.

Either way, no one bothered him. Buck had gotten his coffee and escaped back upstairs, Connor none the wiser. Ty had shouted an invitation at him to join them when he was done being a bore, and Buck just laughed out a “maybe”. That had been a few hours ago.

It was nearing on 2am, and the words were starting to blur in front of his eyes. He’d stayed up later before, studying and otherwise, but it had been a few weeks now of lots to do and not so much time to rest. Buck had just decided to call it a night, turned off his desk lamp, and closed the textbook, when his door crashed open.

Ryan stumbled backward into the room, saved from falling by the hands wrapped around his waist. He giggled, clearly not all that sober, and burrowed his face into the other guy’s neck. “Thanks for the catch. You’re my hero,” he said, voice dripping with laughter.

The guy rolled his eyes, amused, and then froze, catching sight of Buck, who was watching all of this go down from his desk chair. “Uh- Ry? Is this-”

“I, uh, I think you’ve got the wrong room, Ryan, Ryan’s friend,” Buck said, nodding his chin in the direction of Ryan’s door. “One to the left.”

Ryan stood up abruptly and turned to face Buck, blood draining from his face. “Evan.” He shifted on his feet and stood up straighter, pulling his shoulders back.

“You good, Ryan?” Buck was too tired for this sh*t.

Ryan’s mouth opened and closed, not saying anything. The guy put a hand on his lower back and Ryan flinched.

Buck was really too tired for this sh*t. “I’m not gonna out you, Ryan,” he said. “You know they wouldn’t care though, right? Not like I’m subtle about being bi.” Connor might have been hiding it, but Buck never did.

Ryan relaxed infinitesimally, and then his shoulders shot up around his ears. “I’m not- It’s not- We were just-”

“You were just going back to your room to have some fun, I know, whatever,” Buck had been the guy standing behind Ryan, before. “Just, whatever it is, makes sure he’s on the same page, yeah? I’m not gonna tell anyone, that’s- you get to do that.”

Ryan nodded, his jaw clenched. He looked at his friend, who seemed increasingly uncertain what to do. “...Okay, yeah,” Ryan said. “Thanks.” And then he took the guy's hand and headed back into the hall, closing the door behind them.

Jesus f*cking Christ. Buck was going to bed.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Connor, Matty, Ty, and Ryan were sitting at the bartop, chatting about their plans for the last few weeks of summer break. Compared to the crazy crowd on New Year’s Eve, Station on a Wednesday night in August was downright peaceful. There were a couple of other groups scattered throughout, and a couple people on their own, but Buck was far from swamped tending the bar. He would soon be starting his second and final year at LBCC, but for the time being he was just relaxing. He’d spent a lot of the summer working still, even on his birthday, but he’d also found some time to go surfing and simply relax. He’d even gone to visit Emma in July.

It was August, now, but it was easier. Easier than he’d thought it would be. After the realization he’d had when talking to Emma in April, Buck had been doing better. He’d been rereading those letters so often he hadn’t realized how detrimental it was to him until he stopped. Eddie had sent the last one two years ago now, and reading them over and over wasn’t helping Buck to remember him, it was just forcing him to live in the past, dredging up all those feelings every week. It wasn’t good for him, wasn’t fair to force himself through that. Stopping had made a difference, though he still caught himself thinking about the box under his bed at least once a day.

“Yo, Buck, what do you think about a pool tournament? I’ve been thinking about getting a table for a while,” said Tyler.

“For a while?” replied Matty. “You mean since I brought it up an hour ago?”

Tyler glared at him and turned back to Buck. “So? Thoughts?”

Buck hesitated, mind unwillingly thrown into a memory of another pool table, in a different place, from a different time of his life.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as easy as he’d been making it out to be.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The Fall semester had kicked his ass. Human biology, human sexuality, two fire science classes AND the firefighter physical agility course meant that Buck had been busy and exhausted, and annoying literally everyone he talked to by spouting off random facts he’d learned that week. He’d gotten kicked out of bed on two separate occasions by two separate partners for rambling about anatomy.

His last term was going better so far, but it was… a lot of work. He was taking the EMT classes, an elective about the fundamentals of fire safety, and then a French course, because he kind of missed it. It seemed like he had something due every day he didn't have a lab.

Buck was glad he’d taken the agility course fall term instead of this one, too, because he was in the process of organizing the CPAT for his application to the LAFD. That course had really set him up for success, there. On top of the upcoming physical agility test, he’d completed the written FCA last week. Assuming he got a good enough score, Buck would be going in for an interview with the department shortly.

Fingers crossed, and all that jazz.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck interviewed with the LAFD. They were impressed with his FCA scores. He took the CPAT, almost broke a record. The LAFD was impressed with that, too.

4 years to the day after he met Eddie, he got a conditional job offer. All he had left to do was finish up his last term at college, pass a psych eval, and spend a couple of months in training at the Academy, and then Buck would be a firefighter, one of LA’s finest.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“So, Evan Buckley, was it? Heard good things about you from my friends over in Long Beach. You know we’ve got four Evan’s now?” Said Captain Reinhardt, the firefighter in charge of Buck’s group at the academy.

“Ah, yes sir. Thank you. I, uh, go by Buck, if that helps?”

“Better than just calling you Buckley all the time. I'll try to remember that. Good luck, kid.” Reinhardt nodded gruffly and moved on to the next recruit as Buck walked in the doors of the academy.

He'd been given his schedule along with a welcome packet when he arrived. According to that, he had about 20 minutes to explore before he had anywhere else to be. Buck planned on finding a quiet place to hunker down and start reading the manual. He'd just spent two years studying fire, but that wasn't the same. If he wanted to be the best, he'd have to know the book inside and out.

And probably go to the gym a couple more days a week.

He still had to write his last exams and attend commencement, but after that… and after these next five months in training… Buck was going to be the best damn firefighter in California.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The valedictorian for his graduating class, Jennifer Hicks, stood on the stage and spoke to the crowd, tears in her eyes. “When you are feeling doubtful,” she said, “When you are coming back from a series of failures in life or looking for a second chance at your future, remember that it doesn't matter where you came from or how long it took you to get here.” She paused, looking out at everyone seated in front of her. “Don't be afraid of taking that first step. Remember it's not how you start that's important. It's how you finish.”

The crowd cheered, and Buck cheered with them. Newly 26 and a firefighter in training, Evan Buckley was officially a college graduate.

He wished Maddie had been there to see it.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Connor was on a date at his café. He’d told Buck he was coming there, because Buck had been talking about some of the seasonal summer drinks they were serving. That didn't mean that Buck was any more prepared to watch Connor flirt over a cup of raspberry hibiscus lemonade, though.

The woman's name was Kameron, with a K. Buck knew this because she had ordered and paid for her own drink, boxing Connor out when he’d tried to sneak his card into the machine instead. She seemed nice, and kind, and she was drop-dead gorgeous. Buck had no idea what she was doing on a third date with Connor, of all people. Not that Buck could judge her, really. He knew how much of an asshole Connor could be and still found himself jealous of the girls he dated.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

August had rolled around once more. Buck, different from years previous, had been way too busy to drink copious amounts of alcohol and cry himself to sleep. Also, he was well-adjusted and healing now, so even if he’d had the time, that would not be what he used it for. He would… call Emma more, or something. Maybe hit up Delilah and Emilio, see how Riri was doing.

Either way, Buck had been very busy. His time at the academy was coming to an end, and he was finishing up all the last tests and trials before he got to decide which Fire Station to go to. Earlier today, in fact, Buck had broken a record at the academy. He'd run the CPAT in 6 minutes and 24 seconds, and he was pretty damn proud of himself.

“Hey, Buck!” Shouted Evan from across the courtyard. “That was a wicked run, man.”

Buck jogged over to him where he was clustered around a picnic table with some other recruits. “Thanks, Hill.”

“You going out to celebrate?” One of the others asked.

Buck rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, no, I was just gonna head home, probably.”

“Can't have that, Buckley!” said Hill. “You beat a record today, and not just a personal one. C'mon, we're gonna go to The Station later. Join us.”

“Ah, well, I'm there often enough as-is, I work there on weekends.” He laughed. “I was really just going to go home, guys.”

“Let someone else serve you the drinks for once, then. We'll all buy you a round, you won't even have to pay.”

Buck looked at them, all watching him, hoping he'd say yes and offering him free drinks. “Alright, fine,” he conceded. “Thanks. See you tonight?”

Cheers went up around the table. “See you then!” Hill said as Buck headed back inside.

A couple hours later, showered and changed out of his academy clothes, Buck sat on the other side of the bar for once. His fellow recruits held true to their word and he'd had 6 rounds without paying a dime. It was pretty nice, but it also meant he was already pretty drunk when midnight hit and the clock rolled over. It was a few minutes before Buck noticed the date, and suddenly he felt much too sober.

“Hey, Jacob,” he said, waving over his co-worker. “Gimme a shot of tequila?”

“Comin’ right up, Buck. Who's paying this time?” He laughed.

“I've got this one,” he said, pulling out his wallet for the first time all night.

“Ran out of congratulations?”

“Something like that,” Buck replied. He threw back the shot, no salt, no chaser, just feeling the burn. For Eddie. Whenever came way too soon, he thought to himself. Then he stared at the twenty in his hand. “How ‘bout a couple more?”

Evan Hill called Connor. Buck did not want to see Connor. Connor had- Connor had used him. Taken advantage of the fact that Buck was there and liked sex. And it hadn't- it hadn't felt like that at first, but then he'd go on dates and ignore Buck, only talk to him when he wanted to f*ck, and that. That hurt. Normally Buck could deal with that, especially since Connor had been properly going out with Kameron for a little while, but right now Buck was wasted and exhausted and grieving and so, so lonely.

“f*ck off,” he slurred, pushing Connor’s hand off his shoulder. “You’ve got a- a f*ckin’ girlfriend, Connor.”

Connor stood beside him, hovering but not trying to touch Buck again. Good.

“I know I have a girlfriend, Evan, I’m just trying to get you-”

“Told you not to call me that, Con,” he interrupted. “I'm not- I'm not Evan anymore,” Buck said, tears welling up. “Don’t wanna be Evan anymore.”

“Hey, shh, alright, sorry,” said Connor, placing a hand on his shoulder again.

“f*ck OFF!” Buck shouted, startling the other man and also himself. “I'm not gonna- not gonna be your stress relief f*cktoy tonight, dickhe*d, ‘m more than a piece of ass.”

Connor fully stepped away, hands in the air. “Woah, man. I don't know what you're talking about.”

Buck stared at him, anger and sadness turning to incredulity. “Really? You-” He turned to Jacob, who was standing off to the side with Evan Hill. “He's been- s’been f*cking me since ‘fore he asked me to move in with ‘em,” Buck stuttered out. “an’ now he doesn't know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout?”

Hill and Jacob just stared, eyes flicking between him and Conner.

“Buck,” said Connor, sounding exhausted. “Can I take you home, please?”

Buck tilted forward, laying his cheek on the bar and looking at Connor. He was bright red and looked about as tired as he'd sounded. “Fine, I guess. I wanna- I wanna read the letters, anyways.”

“The letters?” Came Jacob's voice from behind him.

He didn't turn to look, still gazing at Connor as he replied. “Mhm. Eddie wrote them to me, ‘fore he died. Got killed. Went- went missing. Loved him, y'know. Got a letter August 18th sayin’ it was gettin’ rough ‘n Afghanistan… didn't- didn't ever get another.”

Connor stared back at him, looking all kinds of guilty.

“Jesus, Buck,” said Hill. “I'm sorry.”

“That's awful, man,” said Jacob.

Buck just closed his eyes and hummed.

He woke up the next morning laying on the floor with a dry throat and pounding headache, surrounded by the letters. As he carefully packed them away, he decided that this was the last time. He wasn't going to read them again. He couldn't afford to break down like that anymore.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Maddie,

Hi! Here's my biweekly update haha. This one is a doozy.

I just finished training at the Academy! And they assigned me a fire station. I'm going to be working with the 118 :) I'm super excited to start.

I hope everything's okay in Boston!

Love you big sis,

Evan

Chapter 6: Good luck, Babe!

Chapter Text

The 118 was pretty cool. Buck was still getting the lay of the land, figuring out their existing structure and routine and interpersonal relationships, but he was good at fitting himself into wherever he needed to be. He’d slotted himself in, been taken under Hen and Chimney’s wings kind of like an annoying little sibling (something he had practice with), and had fallen into a sort of… father-son dynamic with his captain, Bobby? He called the man Pops, and they’d gone to a concert together, and would sometimes grab burgers after a shift. It was nice. Buck had never had that kind of relationship with his own father, and he was kind of loving it.

In the four months since he’d started his probationary year, Buck had learned a lot. He’d been the man behind often in the beginning, but Bobby had started letting him tag along on calls, and before he knew it, he was helping the team out, putting his training to use. There was still so much to learn and he knew he’d never learn it all because every emergency was different, but he loved it. He loved firefighting. This was… this was what he was meant to be doing.

He’d quit his job at the café and the bar, though he still ended up at the Station fairly often considering how much of a hot spot it was for firefighters and how often his housemates went. He was still living with Connor and the other guys, though all of them had graduated by now. Things were a bit... stiff, with Connor, after everything that happened in August, but they managed.

And alright, maybe he was still making poor decisions and sleeping around a lot and generally not thinking things through. Which might explain why he had essentially, um, stolen the firetruck, earlier. To hook up.

“Listen,” said Bobby. “I like you. You’re a good firefighter.”

Buck smiled at that, proud.

“I know we got this thing- you call me Pops and I give you a hard time for being a dumbass kid. We went to a Springsteen concert together.”

That had been a good day.

“But this is not a family.”

It felt more like a family than Buck had experienced… ever, really.

“It’s not a clubhouse,” Bobby continued. “So I’m writing you up.”

f*ck. “Come on, Bobby,” he whined. “See the fire, put out the fire. The rest is blah-blah.” Buck knew that wasn’t quite true, but really? Pops was gonna write him up, for this?

“No,” He said sternly. “The system and the rules are not arbitrary.”

Buck knew this. He knew it. He’d taken multiple courses about it, spent two years preparing to be here.

“First infraction. Two more and you’re out,” he grabbed the plate Buck had snagged off the table when he’d bounded up the stairs. “Wash your hands.”

Well, at least he cared.

So, Buck did not react well to authority figures, or authority, or being told what to do, generally, except in some very specific situations that were… not whatever he and Bobby had going on.

Buck flirted with the snake lady. Buck took the truck, again. Buck had sex with her on a roof, or at least that was the plan. He’d forgotten about the GPS beacon.

Bobby looked pissed.

“You’re fired.”

What? “What?” he said. “That’s not fair! You said I got three strikes.” He could count. This was definitely only two.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve made this choice yourself and you rubbed it in my face. The same exact infraction, two days after I wrote you up.”

Buck could maybe concede that doing the same thing twice was… not the smartest move. Chicks dug the rig, though.

“It’s not 1950 anymore, Buck. We work with women side by side. When you swing your dick around, you disrespect them.”

Buck didn’t think this was the right time to mention that he was an equal opportunist. Maybe the other thing, though? “Wait,” he said as Bobby started to walk away. “Bobby, I- I think I may be a sex addict.” Emma had mentioned something about that, the last time she called. Said she’d expected him to stop, to cool down, but it had been almost three years and Buck was so far from being able to even estimate his body count, at this point.

Bobby turned to look at him, unimpressed, and Buck shrugged. “Self-diagnosed.” Peer-diagnosed, but same difference.

“You think this is a joke?” Bobby looked livid as he stalked towards the younger man and Buck… Buck stumbled back, heart racing. Raised his arms, palms sweating, trying to keep a couple feet between him and his angry Captain.

“How much does your kit weigh, when you’re fully geared up, huh? How much? Bobby demanded.

Buck felt like he was 11 years old again. “Uh, I don’t, I don’t know, 60 pounds give or take-”

“Right, 60 pounds,” Bobby said. “So when you choose this life, you find a way to leave everything behind you, except that 60 pounds. I don’t care if you got problems with your wife, with money, with alcohol, with keeping it in your pants.”

Buck looked to the side. He could feel heat budding behind his eyes, wanted to blink away the tears before Bobby saw them.

“All that stuff,” the man continued, “weighs you down, it slows you down, and if we lose a couple seconds, people die.”

Buck… he knew this. He knew it. It just seemed to, like, flee his mind or something, every so often.

“So you wanna disrespect yourself? That’s fine with me.”

Buck did not want to do that, actually.

“You want to disrespect these women that you chase around, that’s on them.”

Buck didn’t mean to do that, either.

“But you are done disrespecting our firehouse and this fire department.” And Bobby started to walk away again.

He ran after him, scared and ashamed and desperate. “No, Bobby. Bobby! I need this job! Look, I love this job.” He really did. He loved it so much. “Don’t do this to me. I don’t… I don’t have anything else.” Nothing else that mattered, that made him feel whole in a way he hadn’t in years.

Bobby just looked at him, gave him the same look his mother used to. “I’m sorry, kid. I said you’re done.”

Sirens blared in the distance, and Buck cried.

Hen sat down across from him in the locker room as he packed up his bag. “I guess you heard?” he said.

“Yeah,” she replied, drawing the word out. “For what it’s worth, everyone thinks it sucks.”

It did suck, but. “It’s my own fault.”

“Yeah,” she said again. “Everyone thinks that, too. I’ll be honest, when Bobby first brought you on board I told him he should just get a Dalmatian instead,” she chuckled. “But I’m legit sorry to see you go. You got some skills, just not a lot of discipline.”

Yeah. Lack of discipline had been the issue his whole life. Lost him his parents, probably lost him his sister, and now it had lost him this job.

And then he helped Abby Clark at dispatch, and Sergeant Grant, and blasted a bad guy with a firehose. And when he pulled back into the station, Bobby was waiting.

“You’ve used all your chances. So have I. Because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.” Bobby walked away.

Buck followed him. “You’re wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here. And you know what? You were right to fire me.” Bobby stopped. “I was a punk. I, uh, I still am one. But I’m a punk who understands what he lost. Just needed you to know that.” Because Buck felt at home in this firehouse, and he had taken that for granted. Life had been really looking up for once, and he’d acted out, like he always did. Ruining it before it could ruin him.

“I hope you mean that,” Bobby said, his back still turned. “Go get dressed.”

Wait. Wait, really? Buck turned to Hen. “I think I’m not fired.”

“Your shift’s not over yet,” she replied.

Buck smiled and felt something inside him settle back into place. He didn't call Bobby Pops again, though. He didn't want to risk it.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Abby was… she was really considerate. She’d seen him on the news, recognized him from the other day, and given him a call to check in on him. It had- it had helped, a bit, what she said. But he still felt horrible, still blamed himself, and Devon's sister’s blame hadn’t helped with those feelings at all. And then after the building rescue…

“Don’t, alright?” Buck said as Bobby walked into the locker room. “I- I know I let you down.”

Bobby just looked at him.

“A couple years back, I got it in my head to be a Navy SEAL.”

“I didn’t know you were in the Navy.”

“I wasn’t. I didn’t- I met all the physical requirements. But mentally… the recruiter… Following orders wasn’t my best quality, never has been, but hey, I’ve been working on it. And they… they wanted machines, people who could flip a switch in their heads and turn off their emotions.” Buck tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. “I can’t do that. I don’t want to. This job… this job, I get to help people. But I couldn’t help him.”

Bobby told him about the first patient he’d lost, said he didn’t want Buck to flip that switch. It wouldn’t make him a better firefighter. And then he gave Buck the card of a department trauma counselor.

Buck called the counselor, set up an appointment, dressed in clothes that he found comfortable but nice enough, clothes that had followed him from Texas to Peru to LA. Talked to the counselor, Welles, and spoke a bit about Devon, about fear and blame. He brought up the sex addiction, how Emma had suggested he was using sex to run from everything else. Asked if Welles had friended him on Facebook.

f*cked her on the couch in her office. Got kicked out of said office the second they were done. Par for the course, really.

When Abby called him again later, after Devon’s sister came to explain and apologize, Buck made the decision to try something new. Maybe… maybe it didn’t have to be par for the course, anymore.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck and Abby decided to take it slow. He’d told her about the sex addiction, and Dr. Welles, and she agreed that slow would be nice. They called a lot, talked on the phone, texted. He learned about her mom, about her life and her struggles. He shared some of his own. The 118 made it through some massive accidents. Chimney got rebar through his head, he almost lost Bobby in a plane crash… Buck learned about all of his coworkers, a bit more, and managed to tell them pretty much nothing about himself. Managed to tell Abby pretty much nothing about himself, too.

And then he and Abby went on a Valentine’s Day date and he almost died. Emergency tracheotomy because he was stupid enough to choke on bread and drink water.

Embarrassing.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Emma. Please don’t worry, but I’m in the hospital.”

“You’re WHAT?” Okay, so she was definitely worried.

“I’m okay! Abby and I… we had our first date, really, and I uh… I choked? On bread. She had to cut a hole in my throat to get me breathing again. I’m okay though, now, pinky promise!”

“It is only because I know how sacred pinky promises are to you that I am not booking the first flight out to LA, I hope you know.”

Buck laughed, wincing a little at the pain. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you… want me to come out anyway?”

“No, no. I’m alright. I just wanted to let you know, y’know?” He could hear Bobby in the hall, talking to the nurse about his discharge paperwork. “I’ve gotta run now, they’re discharging me. Talk on Sunday?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Bye, Buck.”

“Bye,” he said, hanging up the phone just as Bobby walked back in.

“You’re all good to go, Buck. Who was that you were talking to?”

“Ah, a friend.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, and Buck just smiled. He didn’t ask any follow-up questions, and Buck didn’t offer up any answers. If someone asked, he’d tell them, but no one ever did.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

In spite of the kerfuffle of a first date, things with Abby continued to go well. Buck was… in a relationship. He had a girlfriend. They talked, they went on dates, and yeah they had sex but that was far from everything they did. And Abby didn’t kick him out as soon as it ended, which was a massive step up from everything he’d had since Evie in Virginia, and, well, Eddie, for the night they’d had in Texas.

Buck told Abby about Eddie one evening, after a couple glasses of wine. He told her how he'd waited, how it killed him slowly. How he still thought about him, all the time. Abby held him when he started to cry, wiped the tears from his cheeks. He slept over, and all they did was sleep, and Buck thought that maybe… maybe it was his turn to be happy.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The 118 dealt with the chaos of the full moon (he knew that was the cause, no matter what anyone else said). Buck delivered a baby. They found out Bobby had magic blood. Saved a man from a garbage truck and some hoarders from their house. Buck was saving lives, taking names, doing what he was meant to do.

And then Abby’s mom died, and it all came crashing down.

First, Abby’s brother didn’t like him. Then Buck’s picture got used by a catfish who died. No one believed him, because everyone at the station knew Buck 1.0, knew he’d slept around. It took until they found the corpse for him to be believed, but Buck still had to deal with the jilted girls who didn’t know any better. When that was sorted out, Buck went to Abby’s to explain and apologize for the misunderstanding, since she had been there for two of the incidents.

It was only after they’d discussed the catfish debacle that Abby told him she was leaving, when Buck saw the suitcase on her bed.

“I bought a plane ticket to go to Dublin.”

“Dublin as in… Dublin, Ireland?”

“Yes, Dublin, Ireland,” she replied. “I’m- I’m gonna go, for a while, probably.” She shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know how long. Eight months, maybe?”

She was leaving. Abby was- she was leaving. “Why?” He whispered.

“For mom. She always wanted to go to Ireland, she never went. So I need to go. Also because…” she paused.

Buck watched her, unsure what to say, how to behave.

“I’m kinda lost, Buck. And I just lost my mom but… I realize I also kinda lost myself a long time ago. And, I don’t- I don’t know. I think somewhere along the way I just started caring so much for everybody else that I stopped caring for myself.”

Buck knew what that was like, a bit. Abby had helped him find himself again, after years of being lost, of letting himself be used for the one thing he knew he was good at.

“I mean, I used to be a person who would travel the world swimming in competitions, and I demanded so much from myself… and I feel like I need to find that again.” Abby started to cry. “Because I feel like. I need to have something to give. To my job, and to the people who are counting on me, and to the people that I care about. I care about you so much,” she said to Buck. “You’re amazing. And these last few months, I think you’ve gotten me at least halfway to the person I want to be. But I’ve gotta do this. So that I know I have something to give.”

Buck wanted to cry. He wanted to leave. He wanted her to stay. “I am excited for you,” he said, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “Almost as much as I am… sad, for me.”

They looked at each other, eyes wet.

“I’m going to miss you,” Abby whispered.

“I’m gonna miss you, too.” They hugged.

Buck dropped her off at the airport.

“You’re not gonna come in with me?” She asked when he stopped at the doors.

“I learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors.” That was for hospitals, mostly, on call. But this felt similar. Felt like he was taking her somewhere he shouldn’t follow, lest he bring himself more pain.

She stepped closer, holding his hands. “I must be crazy, to be leaving you behind.”

Everyone left him, eventually. He wasn’t really surprised. He’d hoped that their relationship would break the pattern, but clearly Buck just wasn’t built for anything to last.

“You’re not leaving anything behind,” he said anyway. She needed to hear it. “You’re moving towards something.”

She nodded, and Buck… Buck kissed her and then stepped away, dropping her hands. “I, uh. I can’t wait for you, though. I can’t do that again, sit here waiting for someone to come home. You- you got this, okay? And you have my number, if you need it.”

She looked at him knowingly, and sad. “Take care of yourself, okay? Call Emma, talk to Hen and Chimney and Bobby. They’re your friends, they’re here for you.”

“Take care of yourself, too, Abby.”

He kissed her one last time and watched as she walked into the airport, not looking back. Leaving him standing there alone.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck let himself be sad, for a couple of weeks, let himself wallow. And then he threw himself back into his job and doubled his efforts to get closer to Hen and Chim. They went out for drinks at the Station and Buck let them find out that he used to work there, told them about the café, too. He still didn’t mention his degree, those two years at LBCC, or anything that came before LA, but… baby steps, y’know? Buck didn’t like to talk about himself, as much as he liked to chat. He could spout fun facts and small talk for hours, but anything serious and he tended to shut down, as Emma could probably attest to.

On his terms, a little bit at a time. He’d let them in eventually.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Bobby had arrived at the station in an amazing mood. Buck was pretty sure he was seeing someone, but couldn’t say for sure yet. He’d even said he was considering submitting for the Hot Days, Smoldering Nights: Men of the LAFD wall calendar, which Hen continued to think was a stupid idea, despite it being for charity. Buck was just happy to be bantering, to be honest. He was puffing himself up, bolstering his own confidence when Chimney interrupted him.

“Okay, that is a beautiful man,” he said, looking over Buck’s shoulder.

“Where’s the lie,” said Hen, “And I like girls.”

Buck turned around to see who they were looking at. In the changing room, putting on a shirt, was, indeed, a gorgeous brunet with amazing arms, looking as if he’d poured his ass right into the uniform pants.

This is familiar, Buck thought.

“Who the hell is that?” he murmured with trepidation, hoping and fearing at the same time. Because the man standing shirtless in the changing room- he looked a helluva lot like Eddie. Eddie, who was dead. Eddie, who'd said he was going into something tough, said he wouldn't be able to write for a while, who hadn't replied to Buck’s last letter. To his last letters, really. Who'd not written again in the whole year Buck had stayed in Peru, waiting. Eddie, who he'd only seen once, for one day, for a night and a morning 5 years ago. Who'd called him Evan, Ev, Buck, who'd called him beautiful, called him baby. Who'd stopped calling him anything at all.

The man looked like Eddie, but he couldn't be Eddie. He couldn't be here, because he died. Buck had mourned him. He died. That couldn't be-

“Eddie Diaz, new recruit,” said Bobby.

f*ck.

That was- That was his name. That was him. Eddie Diaz. Edmundo Diaz. Eddie was- Eddie was dead.

“Graduated top of his class just this week,”

Eddie was dead.

“The guys over at station 6 were dying to have him,”

Eddie was dead.

“- but I convinced him to join us.”

Eddie wasn't dead.

Eddie was standing in his firehouse, putting on an LAFD shirt.

(He's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive-)

“What do we need him for?” What. Why did Buck say that? What. He was- he wasn't dead. Buck needed to breathe. Everyone was laughing. Buck couldn’t breathe.

“He’s served multiple tours in Afghanistan as an Army Medic. Guy’s got a silver star. It’s not like he’s wet behind the ears.”

Eddie had served multiple tours in Afghanistan. Buck knew this, knew he’d served two, had been serving his second. As a medic. An Army medic, a combat medic. Buck knew this, Eddie had told him. Eddie had written to him, on his second tour. He knew that. But- a silver star? That's- Buck didn't know that.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to him, he likes to be called eight-pack.”

(He's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive-)

Eight-pack? He liked to be called eight-pack? That was- Buck started the eight-pack joke. Buck had started that joke in a letter, that was Buck’s joke.

Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

(He's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive-)

Eddie was alive.

“Wooow, silver star,” said Hen, walking past Buck who stood there, frozen.

“Better drop some more body fat there, butch.” Chimney patted Buck’s stomach and followed Bobby and Hen.

Eddie was alive.

Buck breathed.

Wait, what the f*ck. Eddie was alive.

Chapter 7: And the walls kept tumbling down

Chapter Text

Buck watched them all go over to say hello to Eddie, and Bobby introduced Hen and Chim. And then Bobby must have said something, must’ve said his name, because Eddie looked up, looked right at him. Very suddenly, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. As if Buck was the one who had gone off to f*cking war and Eddie was the one who’d gotten a letter returned to him, undeliverable. As if Eddie had spent the last 4 years in a weird state of half-mourning, only for Buck to show up at his place of work.

Buck stared, watched Eddie as Eddie watched him and then jolted back to himself, tuning back in to whatever Bobby was saying. What do you do, when your not-even-boyfriend-but-also-the-love-of-your-life comes back from the presumed dead? And shows up at your job? Also working with you?

Buck didn’t know. So Buck ignored him and pretended that Eddie wasn't there, that this wasn't happening. He was at work. They had a job to do.

“So, silver star, huh?” said Chimney, leaning across Buck in the truck to talk to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie said curtly. He shot a glance at Buck. Buck continued to pretend Eddie did not exist.

“You save a platoon or something?” Chim continued.

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just a convoy.”

sh*t. Eddie's team, his squadron- No. Not right now. Buck was not thinking about this right now.

“Eddie,” Hen chimed in. “You heard about the hot firefighter calendar?”

“Sorry, the what?” Eddie laughed out. It was cute. He was cute. And alive. f*ck.

“It's for charity!” Hen said. Bobby laughed, from the front.

f*ck this, Buck thought.

“So,” he said. Eddie's eyes snapped to him instantly. “Is your full name Eduardo?” Daring Eddie to say something, anything.

“You know it-” He cut himself off, taking a breath. “No.”

“People ever call you Diaz?” Buck knew Eddie didn't like to be called that, he had mentioned it that first night at the bar.

“Not if they want me to respond,” replied Eddie, not giving anything away.

“Something's gotta give,” Buck said, not meaning his name at all. “We got Cap, Hen, Chimney, Buck… we can't just call you Eddie.” It was always Eddie giving him names though. All Buck ever called him was Eds or Eddie. Buck was Evan, Ev, Beautiful, Gorgeous… Baby.

“I can't tell if he's being serious or not.”

“I always operate under the assumption that nothing he says is serious,” said Chim.

They arrived at the scene, and Buck hopped out of the truck. “I'm plenty serious, Eds. Something's gotta give,” he said under his breath, just loud enough for Eddie to hear.

Eddie stared at him, eyes like daggers on the back of his head until they got to work.

Eddie was so f*cking hot when he was working, even though Buck was pissed and trying to ignore him. And he had experience, and knowledge, and just- it was f*cking hard to pretend he wasn't there.

“That was a good call, Eddie,” said Bobby afterward.

“Nice job,” added Chim.

Buck and Eddie were left alone at the side of the rig, for a second. Eddie looked at him like he might say something, and Buck couldn't- Buck couldn't deal with this right now.

“Yeah, good call,” he said. “Could've called.” And then he walked away, headed back to his seat in the truck.

Their shift ended and Buck had managed to avoid being alone with Eddie for longer than a few seconds the entire time. It had been remarkably difficult because they'd had quite a bit of downtime between calls, but he'd done it. Towards the end, Eddie had been looking pretty desperate to take him aside and talk. Buck ducked out while Eddie was showering, still nowhere near ready to deal with… whatever this was going to be.

When he got back to the house though, something was off. Like, he lived with four other people, so sometimes things were different than they were when he'd left, but something just felt off. There was a bottle of wine, half drunk, and a glass, dirty, sitting on the counter. None of the cars had been in the driveway and it was 3 pm on a Wednesday so they all should've been at work anyway. Buck could hear the water running upstairs, too.

Maybe one of the guys had someone visiting? Buck brushed it off, since the day had been strange enough already, and headed up to his room. He was in the middle of changing his clothes when the door swung back open.

He turned around, ready to snap at whoever it was for not knocking, and dropped the shirt he’d been holding. In the doorway stood Maddie, her hair wet and a big towel wrapped around her.

“Um. Hi, Evan,” she said.

“Maddie?” he asked, just, totally stupefied. First Eddie, and now this? “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was in town and wanted to see my little brother.”

Buck stared. He'd been doing a lot of that today.

“Any way I could… get dressed?” Maddie said, gesturing to a little suitcase in the corner that he hadn't even noticed.

Buck picked up his shirt and put it on as Maddie walked a bit further into the room. “Yeah, yes, of course,” he said, backing out. “I'll just be… downstairs. When you're ready.”

“Okay. See you in a few minutes.” She closed the door behind him.

What the f*ck.

09/23/2018, 15:37

To: Em

You are never going to believe the day I'm having.

09/23/2018, 15:38

From: Em

Call?

09/23/2018, 15:38

To: Em

Yes, but later. My sister is upstairs and she'll be coming down to talk soon.

09/23/2018, 15:38

From: Em

Your sister??? The one who's been ignoring you for years??

09/23/2018, 15:39

To: Em

And that's not even the half of it.

Maddie came down the steps, nearly silent, and joined Buck at the breakfast bar where he sat with two glasses of wine in front of him.

“So, how'd you even get in here?” Buck asked, sliding one over to her.

“I got here this morning, one of your roommates answered the door? Connor, I think. Told him I was your sister. Had to show him my driver's license, but he let me in and showed me to your room, said you'd be getting home this afternoon.”

“Well, at least he kind of checked your identity.”

“Yeah. He just let me have free reign as soon as he let me in, though.”

“Nothing's perfect,” Buck said, taking a sip from his glass. “How'd you know where I live?”

“I just… went to the address the Christmas cards kept coming from.”

“Wait. So you did get those Christmas cards?” Why was this a theme in his life?

“I'm sorry I haven't been in touch much lately-”

“Lately? Maddie, it's been years. What is it about today that has everyone who's left me rolling back into my life?”

“Yeah, I know- wait. What?”

“Nothing, whatever, doesn't matter.”

She looked at him suspiciously. It reminded him of Emma. It reminded him of her if he was being honest, but he'd seen the look more recently on Emma's face. “Okay. Well. I know, and it's not what I wanted.”

“Where is Doug?” Buck asked, a rock settling into his stomach.

“Don't know, don't care,” said Maddie.

“You left him?”

“Finally,” she said. Buck felt like he could breathe again, for the second time in 24 hours.

“Geez, Mads. What took you so long?”

“What can I say, I guess Mom was right.”

Mom thought that Doug wasn't good enough for Maddie. Buck was inclined to agree, loathe as he was to agree with their mother, because no one would be good enough for Maddie. Something sounded… not quite right, though, in her voice.

“Do they know?” Buck asked.

“No. No one knows. And I don't want you telling them. Please don't tell them, if they call.”

“C'mon Maddie, as if they'd call me. I don't even think they have this phone number.” He rolled his eyes. “Kind of sounds like you're hiding out, though.”

“More like laying low. So, what happened to you?”

The misdirect was so obvious, but Buck would let her have it. She was his sister, and she was here. He stood up and started to put together an early dinner for the two of them, and got to talking.

“For context, we'll start back in Texas. There was someone I never told you about…”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Okay, Buck, spill. Your sister is there? What did she say? Why is she there? What else happened? I've been dying to find out.”

Buck laughed, sprawled out on the couch downstairs since he'd let Maddie take his bed for the night. “Hello to you too, Emma.”

“Hi, yes, hello. Spill.” She demanded.

“Fine, fine, I'll spill. My sister is here, yes. Just showed up at my door. Apparently, she left her husband. Finally. She didn't really give a reason for ignoring me for more than four years, but I got the impression it was possibly because of him.”

“Oh, damn. How long is she staying?”

“Just a couple of days. Might see if I can't convince her to stay longer, though.”

“That'd be nice. Either way, though, must be great to see her.”

Buck lay down across the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “Oh yeah, for sure. A lot less complicated than the other person.”

There was silence over the phone. Buck pulled it away from his ear to make sure he hadn't accidentally hung up when Emma spoke.

“That's a heavy tone you got there, Buck. Who else showed up today?”

Buck closed his eyes and steeled himself. “Eddie,” he said. “He's alive.”

“What?” she said, disbelief evident.

“He's alive. Don't know how, don't know why. But he's alive, and he showed up at my work today.”

“How did he even know you worked there?” she sounded shocked, like she hadn't quite processed what he'd said. Not that he could blame her, he was still trying to process it himself.

“Oh, no, he didn't know I worked there,” Buck said. “He looked almost as surprised as I felt.”

Emma was quiet.

“Eddie wasn't there to see me, Em. He was there for his first day. Fresh out of the academy. He's our new probie, at the 118. Eddie Diaz, firefighter.”

“... What the f*ck.”

“That's what I said.”

“What did he say to you? What did you say to him? What- what the f*ck.”

“Ah, well,” said Buck sheepishly. “I kinda maybe… ignored him for the whole 24-hour shift and then ran away?”

“... Of course you did.”

“I didn't really… know what to do?”

“Hm. That's- Yeah. Yeah, I don't know what I would do, either. What the hell happened to him? Why couldn't he contact you?”

“I don't know, Em. He's got a silver star now, and that's about all I know. I'm gonna have to talk to him, at some point.”

“Yeah,” She said. “You are.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

On his next shift, Buck was working out, lifting weights when Eddie came over and started to box. He knew Eddie liked to box, found it meditative. No idea what was up with the f*cking kick spin, though. Buck grabbed a couple of extra weights and then started to take some selfies, candidates for the calendar.

“You're in the wrong light, man.”

“Thought you went into the light,” Buck mumbled before raising his voice to a normal volume. “Some of us don't need lighting to look good.” He was going to force Eddie to make the first move. He refused to start the conversation because Buck was very sure that the second he asked Eddie about it, he'd be crying.

Chimney asked Eddie about the lighting. Eddie explained and then showed some pictures. Said his cousin had taken them, just, all blasé. Dropping that info out and about for him and Chimney to hear. And maybe Buck was a bit of a dick, after, but really? Really?? Months of letters and not a peep, second shift at the 118 and he's revealing family members to Chim? f*cking ridiculous.

“What's your problem, man?” Eddie said, walking over to him.

Evan gaped and Eddie winced, probably running that sentence over in his head. Before he could retract or reword it, though, Buck answered.

“You.”

He looked at Eddie, watching as his face went through probably every single emotion.

“You're my problem,” he continued. “You just walked in here like you've been here for years. But you haven't. You haven't been here, Eddie.”

“Hey, you were a probie once, Buck.” Chimney chimed in. “All of us were.”

“Yeah,” Buck said, having forgotten that the other man was still there. “That's not what I'm talking about.” He moved to leave the gym area, but Eddie grabbed his arm.

“Ev-”

He jerked out of Eddie's grasp. “Don't f*cking call me that.”

Chimney was probably wondering what had gotten into him, but he didn’t care. What was his problem? This whole situation was the problem.

It was a tough couple of hours, with a few easy calls and a lot of avoiding Eddie in between. And then they got the call about the grenade.

“You gotta learn to play nice, it's one team, Buck,” said Bobby after instructing Buck to ride in the ambulance with Charlie and Eddie.

Buck rolled his eyes and got in the back.

“I guess you've seen a lot of shrapnel wounds,” he said as they worked on Charlie's injuries.

“My share.”

“Anyone I'd know?”

Eddie's eyes flicked to him, flashing with hurt. “Some.”

Buck was trying to figure out what to say to that when Eddie moved, lightning fast, to grab Charlie's hand.

“Hold on, I thought you said this was a practice round?”

“It is!”

Eddie stared at the grenade in their patient's leg, and Buck stared at him.

“Practice rounds have blue caps,” Eddie said.

Buck looked at the cap. It was gold.

“Gold caps are live,” Eddie continued, before slamming his hand on the wall that divided the driver from the back. “Pull over!” He shouted.

They pulled over. They got out. They analyzed the situation. Eddie explained the grenade. The bomb squad said they couldn't do jack sh*t, and also Buck knew that Charlie would bleed out before the people they'd sent for arrived.

Eddie volunteered. He had some practical experience, maybe, that might help. Buck volunteered, too. He did not. Nothing in any of his fire science classes had covered live grenades.

“Listen, Buck,” said Bobby. “You don't have to do this.”

“I thought I lost him once already, Cap. I'm not- I'm not going to lose him to this, at least not without me.”

Bobby looked at him, confused, but let him go.

He and Eddie got in the ambulance, reassured Charlie, and got to work. The patient leaned back, voice fading, and Eddie looked at Buck. “You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Buck replied.

And then they removed a live grenade from the guy's leg.

“You're badass under pressure, Buck,” Eddie said, after.

“Me?”

“Hell yeah.” He smirked. “You can have my back any day.”

Buck looked at him and smiled sadly. He was done waiting for Eddie to bring it up. “I thought you were dead, Eddie.”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out.

“I sent you so many letters and got no reply, and then my last one got returned.” Buck could feel himself starting to cry. “Undeliverable, return to sender. I… I didn't know what had happened to you, Eds. You were just… gone. I thought you were dead. For four years, Eddie, I've mourned you.”

“Evan-” Eddie said.

And then the ambulance blew up behind them.

Buck flinched, crouching down to protect his head. A few feet away, Bobby did the same. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t look away from Buck at all.

“I wrote,” he said as Buck stood up. “I wrote you, when I was settled again, when I felt like I could. I didn’t…. It came back to me, mudarse written across the front in Sharpie.”

Buck felt conflicted. He hadn’t known that, but also… “I didn’t move from that house in Peru until August of 2015, Eds. And- Emma? You knew her address, or you had her number or something. From the bubble wrap.”

“I lost her address, it, I don’t- I dunno Buck, I just lost it, somehow. I looked for it, believe me,” he said. “And I… It took me a long time, Buck, to- to feel like I could write to you. To feel like I deserved to. Greggs… I lost him. We lost him.” Eddie finally looked away, choking back a sob and no longer staring directly into Buck’s soul.

Buck wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Nice work fellas, glad you made it out of there,” said Bobby, walking over to join them. Buck put his happy-go-lucky mask back on and turned to him, watching Eddie do the same.

“The guy’s a professional, Cap. I was never really worried.”

Eddie’s lips twitched up in a facsimile of a smile, and Bobby patted them both on the shoulder. “I’m just glad it blew up once everyone was out,” Bobby replied. “Let’s head back to the station and get cleaned up. We’re offline until Hen and Chim are back.”

Back at the station, things were quiet, subdued. Bobby cooked, Buck helped, and Eddie puttered around tidying up and doing the same type of cleaning that Buck had to do, as a probie. He’d only had his shield ceremony a couple of weeks before Eddie arrived, so it was all very familiar to him. They… they didn’t ignore each other, and they didn’t try to catch the other’s attention. They just existed in the same space, both of them dealing with the fallout of the short conversation they’d had.

Hen and Chim returned, they had a few more calls, and when the shift ended… Buck and Eddie looked at each other, gazes lingering, and then got in their own cars and drove home.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

They saved a guy with a microwave cemented to his head. They worked together like a well-oiled machine. They continued to not talk about it, this time out of an unspoken mutual agreement.

Both Emma and Maddie thought this was not a great course of action, but really, what the hell were you supposed to do when your not-boyfriend love-of-your-life came back from the dead after four f*cking years to be your coworker? Buck was still trying to get it through his head that Eddie was even alive.

Oh, and Chimney was picked for the calendar.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Doug was an asshole. Doug was the worst kind of asshole. But Maddie was staying, now. She was staying with him, and he could keep her safe. Connor was moving out soon, to get an apartment with Kameron, and he’d talked it over with the other guys too. Maddie was going to stay, move into the primary room with the ensuite. She would live just down the hall from Buck, and she was going to be a 9-1-1 operator. Everything was going to be fine.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

On Maddie’s first day, an earthquake hit LA. A massive earthquake, the biggest they'd had in twenty years. The 118 was called to a collapsed high-rise hotel, but since the second they’d felt the quake, Eddie had been compulsively checking his phone, the same as Hen.

“Is everything okay?” Buck asked him.

“Yeah. There’s no service,” he replied, not looking up from the screen. “Texts won't even get through.”

“Who’re you trying to get a hold of?”

Eddie looked at Buck, hesitating. “... My son. I’m trying to reach my son.”

Oh. Oh, his son. Eddie’s son. Eddie… Eddie had a son, now. Sometime in the last few years, Eddie had found someone else, and now he had a son. That was- great. That was great. Buck was fine.

“Woah,” he said aloud. “You got a kid?”

Eddie looked back at his phone, away from Buck’s prying eyes. “Christopher,” he said, and handed his phone to Buck with a photo pulled up. “He’s seven.”

“And super adorable!” Buck said. “I, uh,” Wait. Seven? “I love kids.” Seven?

Buck had met Eddie five and a half years ago. They had- they’d written letters to each other, for over a year. Not once… not a single time, had Eddie mentioned a son. He’d had a kid the whole time Buck had known him, and not mentioned it once. An entire kid.

“I love this one. I'm all he's got,” said Eddie, ignorant of Buck’s turmoil, or maybe just deciding to ignore it. “His mother's not in the picture.”

Well, at least there was that. At least he hadn’t helped Eddie cheat. Probably. sh*t. Nope- Buck was not going down that train of thought right now. They’d just had an earthquake, and Eddie couldn’t get a hold of his seven-year-old kid.

“He’s at school?” he asked.

Eddie looked at him again. “Yeah.”

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine,” Buck reassured him.

They saved who they could. It was a little dicey in the middle, he almost watched Eddie fall to his death, he almost got squashed by a falling elevator, and they almost lost Hen, but they did it. They saved who they could. And that was- that was their job.

They got back to the station and Eddie’s car was boxed in, trapped by debris. The Jeep was accessible, though. The Jeep was accessible and Buck had nowhere else to be, he'd already texted Maddie and she was doing fine at dispatch.

“Hey, Eds, I could, uh, drive you? To get your son,” he offered. “If you'd like.”

“Really?” Eddie looked at him and that face- Buck would do anything for that face. f*ck.

“Yeah, ‘course. Hop in.”

They both got into the Jeep and Eddie pulled out his phone, probably to message whoever Christopher was with.

“Buckle up,” said Buck.

Eddie chuckled, though it was pretty lackluster. “Okay, mom.”

Buck looked at him, heart in his throat. “That was five and a half years ago,” he said. “You still remember that?”

Eddie froze. “Um. Yeah. 47% of accidents, right?”

“Yeah, yeah that's right.” Buck turned away from him, clearing his throat, and started the car. “Where am I headed?”

Eddie told him the name of Christopher’s school, and they started to drive. They had about half an hour of drive-time to fill, and Buck didn't particularly think this was the time to be getting into the nitty-gritty, so he went with the next easiest topic.

“Tell me about Christopher. What's he like?”

He could see Eddie light up from the corner of his eye. “Oh, he's the best. Just this morning, y’know, he asked me if dogs know they're dogs-”

By the time they made it to the kid, Buck felt like he knew him. And watching Eddie run to his son, wrapping him up in his arms… Buck was prone to tears, but he was pretty sure anyone would've cried watching that.

“What's up, little man? I'm Buck, I work with your dad.”

Chris looked at Eddie.

“My car got stuck because of the earthquake, buddy. Buck is gonna give us a drive home, alright?”

The kid's eyes bounced between the two of them for a minute before he shrugged. “Okay, daddy. Hi Buck! I'm Christopher, but you can call me Chris!”

Buck laughed. “Nice to meet you, Chris. Your dad’s told me a lot about you. What’s your favorite animal, again?”

“Sharks! They're so cool.”

“They really are!” Buck enthused as Eddie got Chris set up in the back seat. “Did you know they recently found some sharks that glow in the dark? It was-”

Buck and Christopher kept chatting, trading fun facts about sharks, and then dinosaurs. Eddie directed them to his house, interrupting only when Buck was about to miss a turn. He kept watching them, looking all kinds of sappy any time Buck saw his face. He must've been so grateful that his son was safe.

When they pulled into Eddie’s driveway, he turned to Buck and lowered his voice so Christopher wouldn't hear. “Do you want to come in and have a beer? Maybe… maybe talk, for a bit, once the kiddo’s in bed?”

Buck wanted to do nothing more, and also literally anything else, but it was probably a good idea. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

So they went inside, and Buck got stationed on the couch with a cold bottle of beer and the news on the TV while Eddie put his son to bed.

Eddie came back, after a bit, grabbing his own beer and taking a seat beside Buck. “So…”

“So,” said Buck.

“I’m sorry I never told you about him.”

Pretty solid start, in Buck’s opinion.

“I… I was running, when I met you. Standing by Emma’s bar, inviting me over with all the confidence I pretended to have…” He trailed off, glancing up at Buck. “I enlisted for my second tour without telling his mom,” he continued abruptly. “It was soon after he was born. I wasn't ready- neither of us was ready for a kid. We were, we were just kids ourselves.

“I got to go home for his birth, and I just. The doctor’s, after, they told us there were complications, that Chris had CP, uh, Cerebral Palsy… And I knew he’d need more than, more than I could give. Which,” he sighed. “Which wasn’t true, but it felt like it. So I re-enlisted. Returned to Afghanistan, finished my tour, went home for a few months after my first tour ended… and then I met you when I was heading out again. He… He needed more help, more care than I knew what to do with. I didn’t know how to take care of myself, of Shannon. What was I going to do for this kid? So I figured I'd do what I felt I could… Bring home some money for them. Shannon was pissed. I told her I was providing for them…

“But I was running, really. I was running.”

Eddie looked down at the coffee table in front of them, and Buck wanted to feel sorry for him, wanted to understand, but he just… Couldn’t. Not yet. “And… and in the months and months of letters, Eddie? I get it, at the beginning. It was a one-night stand. But then it wasn’t,” he said. “I've got almost a book's worth of words from you and not one mention of that amazing kid, man.”

The other man didn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the table. “I'd barely met him, Evan. And he just-” Eddie shook his head. “You felt like a different part of my life, than them. Shannon and I… we weren't ready for any of it. Not Chris, not marriage, not my deployment.”

He’d started strong, but it was starting to go downhill. Buck felt like he’d been hit by a truck, like his heart was breaking all over again. Marriage.

“I got her pregnant, we were… we’d been dating on and off since middle school, and we’d had breakup sex again. I swear-” he laughed, but it sounded pretty sad. “I swear we only got back together so we could fight and have amazing breakup sex, sometimes. She loved a good fight.

“So we broke up, supposedly for good this time, and then like two months later I got a call. She was pregnant. We only… we only got married because that’s what you do when you're barely twenty-one and you knock up your high-school sweetheart, you know?” He looked at Buck, finally, as if… as if Buck would understand, as if he might laugh, too.

“Married,” Buck said. “I guess you, uh, I guess you have been to a wedding, then. You never answered that question, in the letters.” And here Buck did laugh, bitter and hurt. “Which, uh, makes sense. Since you were hiding this.”

Eddie had the good sense to look ashamed, at least. “I, uh, yeah. It was- I wasn’t sure how to tell you, so I just… didn’t.” He sat up straighter, desperation on his face. “But it was only because we had to! Catholic families, both of us. We were… I told you, we were falling apart already. Never stopped falling apart, even then. And I had barely seen her in two years, because of, because of the Army. We’re… Shannon and I, we’re married on paper. And for Chris. Not much else.”

“Married,” Buck said again, ice filling his veins. “You’re still married. Currently. Right now. You’re married to Christopher’s mom.”

“Yes, but-”

“The whole time,” Buck said over him. “The whole f*cking time.” He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream and throw things and maybe f*cking punch the man in front of him, the man who’d had a whole life to go back to, who’d made the bare minimum effort to contact Buck and then just… left him to think he’d died. He wanted to break down. But Chris was trying to sleep, so all Buck could do was whisper. He stared at Eddie, willing him to look up, to look at him. To correct him. He wanted Eddie to tell him it wasn't true, that what he'd just said wasn't true. That he hadn't been married longer than Buck had known him.

That Buck hadn’t helped him cheat.

But he didn’t. He just stared at the coffee table, bottle sweating in his hands.

“You’ve been married the whole time I’ve known you. Went I met you, when we flirted, when we f*cked. You were married when you wrote me that letter, telling me I had a gorgeous smile. When I sent you those goddamn photos,” Buck… Buck thought he should be crying, at this point, but his chest was on fire, his hands felt numb and his eyes were dry as the desert. “You were married when you told me you loved me. Scratched out, in Spanish, but you wrote it. When you said you thought we were soulmates, too,” He stopped there. He could feel himself getting worked up, and he didn’t want to yell.

Eddie mumbled something, but he was too quiet. “What?”

“... Yes.”

Right. Of course. “Greggs-” Buck’s heart broke a little more saying his name, remembering what Eddie had told him, but he powered on. “Greggs called me your Juliette. Called you my Victor Hugo. Did he know how true it was? Were they all laughing at me, your f*cking… mistress, sending you letters? Pinning after you? At least Juliette knew he was married. You didn’t even give me that.”

Buck stood up, leaving his barely drunk bottle on the coffee table as he walked to the door. He grabbed his bag from where he’d dropped it on the way in. Slipped on his shoes, pulled open the door, and had one foot over the threshold when Eddie grabbed his arm.

“Evan, please,” he pleaded, voice wrecked.

Buck didn’t move. Didn’t turn to look at him, but didn’t wrench himself free either.

“Please. Please, Ev, come back inside. Sit down, talk to me, please. Let me-”

“Don’t call me that,” Buck whispered.

“What?” Eddie said, interrupted.

Buck jerked his arm out of his grasp. “Don’t call me that, Eddie. You don’t get to call me that.” He took another step away and turned to look at Eddie, standing in the doorway. He looked lost, adrift, like he didn’t know which way was up.

Fitting, because Buck had felt like that for years.

He sighed. “I think… I think you know me better than I know myself sometimes, Eddie. Even after all these years. I told you things I’ve never told anyone, I let you in, in ways I don’t even know. You know I speak French, for god’s sake. Even Maddie doesn’t know that.

“I trusted you. I trusted you with everything I’ve got. I thought you were the same, or at least… or at least getting there.” Eddie looked like he wanted to jump in, to say something, and Buck continued before he could. “I thought I knew you, Eds. Turns out I don’t know you at all.”

Buck left him standing there and continued out to his car. Eddie didn’t say anything, didn’t follow. Not this time.

Chapter 8: Never gonna hold the hand of another guy

Chapter Text

Bucked ignored him. More than he had ever ignored anyone before, Buck ignored Eddie. Oh, he still worked with him, of course. Buck wouldn’t be leaving A-shift at the 118 and it didn’t seem like Eddie would be either, so Buck worked with him. But the second the calls were over, the moment the patients were safe or the fire was out, as far as Buck was concerned, Eddie Diaz did not exist.

Buck refused to even look at him when he didn’t have to, much less hear him out. As such, a lot of his days looked like this:

“Buck-”

Nope,thought Buck, turning on his heel and heading back upstairs.

“Could I-

Buck got into the Jeep and drove away.

“Buck, we saved you a seat, come sit with us.”

Buck looked over at Chimney, where he was gesturing to an empty spot on the couch. He glanced at where Eddie was sitting on one of the chairs around the TV, looking hopeful, massive bags under his eyes.

“I’m okay, Chim. Maybe next time,” he said.

Chimney looked between the two of them, expression calculating. “Alright, Buck. Your loss.”

“Evan-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Buck, please-”

He closed the door.

“Buck, I just want-”

“Hey Bobby, I’m going to go sharpen the axes!”

Bobby didn’t look away from where he was prepping lunch. “Sounds good, Buck. Don’t forget your safety gear.”

And Buck left Eddie standing at the top of the stairs, off to grab the safety gear and sharpen some axes using the very loud grindstone.

…So yeah, you could say that Buck was ignoring Eddie. And maybe it wasn’t affecting their work, but it was affecting their workplace, and people were noticing. Namely, Hen and Chim. Bobby too, but it seemed like he was letting Hen and Chim handle it, considering it was them who confronted Buck in the kitchen one day while Eddie was snagging a couple of hours of sleep in the bunkroom.

“What’s going on, Buck?” asked Hen.

Buck pulled down a plate from the cupboard and started getting together things for a sandwich. ”What are you talking about?”

“What is she talking about?” asked Chim incredulously. “She’s talking about this cold front you’re giving Eddie. We thought you guys had sorted out… whatever it was, after the grenade.”

“Well, we didn’t,” said Buck.

“But why, Buckaroo? What’s up with you and him?”

“Nothing is up with me and Eddie,” he snapped, slamming down the jar of mayo with a bit more force than he meant to. “sh*t. Sorry.”

Hen and Chim raised their hands, backing off a bit. “Hey, cool it,” said Chim. “We’re just asking.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to ask.”

“Is it… is it something we should mention to Bobby? You like everyone, Buck, he had to’ve done something pretty serious.”

“Hen…” Buck sighed. “It’s fine. He’s fine. You don’t have to mention anything to Bobby, and you don’t have to stop being friendly to him. Be friends with him, if you want. I don’t care.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Except you clearly do.”

And Buck was twenty-three again, propped up against the wall of his bedroom in Peru, his bedroom that looked like a hurricane had gone through it. He was sitting there, voice hoarse from all the sobbing he had done, saying he was fine. And Gael was in the doorway, saying “you’re clearly not.”

He shook his head, coming back to himself in the kitchen of the firehouse. “Okay, fine, whatever. I do care,” he said. “So I won’t be his friend. You can, though.”

“But why not, Buck?” Chim asked.

Buck hesitated.

“What’d he say, Buckaroo?”

“Not a damn thing, Hen,” Buck replied. “He didn’t say anything.” He picked up his plate and turned around, facing his friends. The two of them shared a look that Buck couldn’t read. “Just drop it, please,” he said, exhausted. And they did.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Buck hadn’t noticed how much damage control Hen and Chimney had been doing until they stopped. While the two of them had dropped their line of inquiry and let Buck continue the cold-shoulder treatment he was giving Eddie, it seemed like they had stopped fending Eddie off and keeping him too busy to bother Buck. It was suddenly much harder to avoid the other man. That didn’t mean Buck couldn’t do it, it just meant he had to get a bit more creative.

To avoid Eddie’s pestering, Buck did something he didn’t do often, if ever. Buck… talked about himself.

“Oh, Lake Michigan is nice! Erie is by far my favourite, though.”

“Wait,” said Chimney. “Have you been to all of the Great Lakes? How do you have a favorite?”

“Yep,” said Buck. “I spent like, thirteen months? Driving around the Northern states, staying in a new place every couple of weeks.”

Eddie hovered on the peripheral, pretending to do a crossword. If he got any closer, Buck would leave. He had a pretty rapt audience though, so there wasn’t really space.

“That was after Montréal,” he continued.

“Montréal?” chimed in someone else. “Like, in Canada?”

Buck didn’t embellish his stories, didn’t make them any cooler than they already were, but everyone was happy to listen because, well, none of them knew anything about his life before the 118, except that he had an older sister. So he told them about business college, about buying and crashing the motorcycle, about the lobster boat in Maine, and the mechanics in Montreal. He told them about the Great Lakes and Virginia Beach, construction across the coast. About the SEALs. He mentioned Texas, and Peru, and told them about Emma. Explained his history with The Station and made everyone fancy coffees.

Didn’t say a word about Eddie, or to Eddie, through any of it.

If anybody noticed the holes conspicuously left in the more recent stories, no one said anything. It wasn’t like Buck had sat down and decided to narrate his whole adult life, though. It was just that he started chiming in, sharing his own stories when something relevant came up. The Great Lakes was because Rosen had mentioned that her parents had bought a place on Lake Michigan to retire to. Hen and Chim were talking about expensive meals when he brought up the lobster boat. Virginia Beach, because Daniels was wondering about surf lessons, and construction when Hen asked if anyone could help build a playset in her backyard for Denny. Barnett was looking into getting a motorcycle. Buck didn’t go outside before he picked up, the next time Emma called him on shift. They had a patient who’d dropped a hot casserole on her foot when her son told her he’d been kicked out of school. He brought up his Fire Science degree in a conversation about qualifications. Another time, they had a patient who spoke Spanish but not English, and Buck got to them before Eddie did.

He didn’t tell anyone he spoke French, though.

Buck hadn’t realized how much he avoided talking about himself until he stopped. It was easier than he'd thought it would be. Since people knew some things about him, they would come and ask him questions, ask for relevant advice or just to know more. And by the time he’d mostly run out of stories, he’d run out of anger too. He was still hurt, he was pretty sure he’d always be hurt, but he was done being angry. It took far too much energy and effort to keep blocking Eddie out when they saw each other this often.

The next time Buck walked into the living area and Eddie was already there, he didn’t leave. He just took a seat beside Chimney and asked to get in on the next round of Mario Kart.

“Buck, can we talk? Please?”

“No,” said Buck as he climbed into the Jeep. “We can’t. I don’t have anything to say to you, yet.”

“Yet?”

“Just stop asking, Eddie. Not- not yet.”

Eddie stepped away from the car, and Buck went home.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Okay, so maybe Buck had overheard Eddie complaining about Christopher’s school, red tape, and the pains of bureaucracy, and maybe he was upset with Eddie, but Chris… Buck had nothing against Chris. And Buck had a solution. A solution by the name of Carla.

Maybe texting Eddie to meet him for lunch was a bit underhand. Okay, very underhand, considering Eddie had been trying to get him alone to chat for weeks now, but Buck didn’t feel too bad about it.

“Uh… Buck? Who is this?”

“This, Eddie, is Carla Price. The answer to all of your red tape-related problems.” Buck gestured for him to sit in the chair he had just stood up from. “Carla, this is who I’ve been telling you about. Eddie Diaz.”

Carla smiled and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Diaz. Buck here seems to think I might be able to help you out. Mentioned something about a son and way too many forms?”

“Uh, yes, yeah,” Eddie said, taking a seat. He looked like the rug had been pulled out from under him, which it kind of had, in a way. “Call me Eddie, please.”

“Only if you call me Carla.”

“Okay,” Buck said. “I’m gonna leave you to it. See you at work, Eddie. Text me later, Carla.”

“You know it, Buckaroo!”

Eddie just opened and closed his mouth, like a fish. Buck gave a little wave and walked away, good deed done.

10/15/2018, 14:23

From: Eddie Diaz

Thank you.

10/15/2018, 14:23

From: Eddie Diaz

I know you didn’t do it for me, but thank you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Hey, Buck, Hen and I are gonna go to Station on Friday after the shift,” said Chimney as Buck came up the stairs at the firehouse. “Trying to get all of A-shift to come. We already convinced Rosen and Daniels.”

He didn’t have any plans, so, “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

Chimney hesitated, and Buck raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I was… going to invite Eddie, too.”

While things had sort of evened out, him and Eddie still weren’t on very good terms. Buck was… done with the whole situation, if he was being honest. Which meant that he wasn’t going to exclude Eddie from something that was supposed to be for the team, nor was he going to remove himself from the outing. “Invite him. It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Chim. It’s fine.” There would be enough people there that it wouldn’t be hard to avoid talking to Eddie.

Chimney looked doubtful, but he nodded his head and wandered off, presumably to invite the rest of their coworkers.

The end of the shift rolled around, and Buck showered off the grime from the day, along with a couple other guys from A-shift. He was getting dressed and tidying up his hair when he noticed that Eddie’s stuff was already gone, and he was nowhere to be seen. “Yo, Chimney,” he said, getting his attention.

“Yep?”

“Thought you said Eddie was coming with?”

Chimney looked surprised that he was asking. “Uh, he said he couldn’t come. Mentioned something about dinner with someone named Shannon? Pretty sure it has to do with that school he’s trying to get Christopher into.”

Buck wasn’t sure what his face did in response to that, but it couldn’t have been good, because half the people in the locker room looked at him like he might be about to collapse. Which he wouldn’t. He was fine. Eddie was having dinner with his wife to discuss their son’s education. Everything was fine.

“Oh,” he said.

“Are, uh, are you still… good to come out, Buck?”

He turned back to the mirror and fixed a piece of hair that was probably not out of place. “Yeah, ‘course. Love the Station. It’ll be good, I’m excited.” He smiled at Daniels, who was still watching him like he might fall over, and then turned back to Chimney. “Ready to go?”

Jacob was bartending when Buck strolled in with most of A-shift on his tail. “Buck! Good to see you, man, it’s been a while.”

Buck went over to give him one of those clasped-hand shoulder-pat hugs that guys liked to do, and then nodded his head at the group. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Brought a crowd for you, though.”

Jacob laughed, popping the cap off a bottle of Buck’s preferred brew. “I can see that. Thanks,” he said, and then turned to Chimney, who’d been close behind. “What can I get you today, Chimney?”

Buck left his coworkers to grab their drinks, and snagged a couple tables close to the dartboard for everyone to sit at. He sipped at his beer as everyone trickled over to join him, the familiar cacophony of conversation settling around him. A couple of them got a game of darts started, and he’d been watching them absentmindedly when Hen dropped down beside him, setting a tray of shots on the table.

“Damn, Hen. We having a party tonight, or something?”

“Nothin’ like that, Buckaroo. Just been a long week, figured we deserved it,” she said, picking two shots up and handing one to him. “Vodka. Bottom’s up?”

“Cheers,” he said, and downed it.

Hen immediately picked up another one, not drinking it yet, though.

“Woah, those aren’t all for us, are they?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” she said. “Karen and Denny are going out to see a movie tonight, and I let ‘em know I might not be home until morning.” She smiled, chuckling a bit. “Guess it depends how f*cked up you wanna get.”

Buck thought about Eddie, out on a date with his wife. His wife that he’d been married to for probably eight years now. And then he looked at Hen, and the tray of shots. “Let’s get f*cked up, Hen.” He picked up a second shot. “Real f*cked up.”

“Hell yeah, Buck,” said Chimney, joining them and picking up a shot of his own. “You live near here, right?”

“Yeah,” Buck laughed. “Can’t promise anything more than a pillow on the floor and McDonald’s for breakfast, but yeah.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Chim and Hen in unison. All three of them looked at each other in silence for a moment.

“I’ll cheers to that,” said Buck, and they all threw back their shots.

A few hours later and they had done as they set out to do: gotten real f*cked up. Most of A-shift had left by this point, trickling out over the course of the evening, but the bar had stayed pretty full with the regular crowd and people who were there just because it was Friday.

Hen, Chim, and Buck had taken a seat at the bar and were trying to figure out if they were the last ones there from the 118.

“No, no,” said Chim insistently. “I just saw her. I swear.”

“That was like an hour ago,” fought Hen. “Rosen’s gone.”

Chim was silent for a minute, holding a hand up like he was thinking. “Oh!” he said. “Eddie! Eddie’s still here, right?” He shifted his gaze to Buck, who was sitting between the two of them and following the conversation like a tennis match.

Buck frowned and sniffled. “Eddie didn’t come. He’s out with his wife."

Chimney’s mouth dropped open. “His wife? I thought she was like, someone from the school.”

“Who?” chimed in Hen.

Buck looked at her. “Shannon. Eddie couldn’t come ‘cus he was having dinner with- with her. His wife.”

“That’s so crazy,” said Chim. “I didn’t know he was married.”

“Neither did I!” said Buck, a little too loudly. “At least you didn’t send him f*cking Polaroids of you in lingerie!”

Chim and Hen were silent. Jacob came over, looking a little bit concerned. “You okay there, Buck? Can I get you guys some water?”

Buck looked at him, having a bit of a revelation. “Jacob,” he said. Jacob looked at him. “Jacob, do you remember Eddie?”

He looked a bit confused.

“Eddie, Jacob. He was dead. I had a- a whole, um, a whole thing, about it. Connor was here. And- and Hill! Evan Hill.”

The confusion cleared, and he nodded. “Yeah, yeah Buck. Your soldier.”

“Mhm!” Buck nodded emphatically. “He’s not dead.”

“What?” The confusion was back.

“Dead?” said Hen.

“I got a- a letter. Returned. Saying- sayin’ it was undeliverable. After he told me that- that- that it was gettin’ rough. ‘N then I heard nothin’ for years,” Buck said, turning between the three of them. “So I thought he was dead. Until!” He put both hands on the bartop, for emphasis. “Until he showed up at my firehouse like nothing’ happened!”

They all stared at him, and he could tell they didn’t believe him. He continued anyway. “And- and it turns out, it turns out that he’s married an’ he has a- a kid.”

Buck looked at Jacob, willing him to understand. “We wrote love letters for over a year, Jacob, an’ he had a wife the whole time.”

“That’s, uh,” Jacob was at a loss for words. Someone called him over from further down the bar and he took the chance to escape.

“Buckaroo,” said Hen. He turned to face her. “Are you- are you saying you knew Eddie before?”

He looked away. “Met him in Texas, in, uh, 2013.”

“2013!?” said Chimney.

“Mhm. We- we hooked up. Emma’s bar.”

“Sounds like it was more than that, Buck.” He felt Hen’s hand on his shoulder, but he kept looking at the empty shot glass on the counter in front of him.

“I told ‘im to write me an’ he did. For, uh, for 16 months, or so,” he mumbled. “But then somethin’ happened. That- that accident. The one that got ‘im his star.”

“sh*t, man.”

“Yeah.”

“And then he just turned up here, no word, no nothing?”

“Yep. Four- four years of, of radio silence. I was- I was just starting to get over ‘im and he came back.”

Chimney must’ve waved Jacob back over, because a glass of water slid its way into Buck’s field of vision. He picked it up and chugged it.

“And… and his wife?” asked Hen.

“Didn’t know about her. Not ‘til the earthquake.”

“The earthquake. Right, things uh, got frosty, around then.”

“I took ‘im to pick up his kid after, an’ he invited me in for a beer. Told me why he never wrote. Explained why- why he never mentioned Christopher.”

“And told you he was married.”

“And told me he was married.” Buck placed his forehead on the bar top. Chimney’s hand landed on his other shoulder.

“That’s really f*cked up,” he said.

“Yeah,” mumbled Buck to his knees. “It really is.”

Next thing Buck remembered, he was waking up in his bed at the house in Arcadia. There was a bucket on the bedside table, thankfully empty, and a lump that looked suspiciously like Chimney lying on the floor.

“Chim?” he said.

The lump groaned. Buck took that as confirmation, and sat up slowly. He downed two of the pills sitting on the table beside the bucket, along with one of the glasses of water. There was a note tucked underneath in Maddie’s handwriting.

I’m not making you breakfast,it read.

Buck smiled, and very gingerly made his way out of bed and out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. He went downstairs and passed Hen who was unconscious on the couch, a similar water-and-pills situation on the coffee table for her. Following his nose, he went to the kitchen, where he found Maddie waiting for a pot of coffee to brew. The clock on the microwave read 9:14 am.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rough.

“Hey,” she replied. “Head okay?”

“I’ve had worse.”

She laughed quietly. “I’ll bet. You look like hell, though.”

“Yeah, sounds about right. Sorry for waking you last night. I don’t, uh- I don’t remember, really.”

Maddie grabbed a second mug from the cupboard and poured them both full of coffee, before passing one to him. “You were really out of it,” she said, leaning back against the counter. “Want to tell me why you were rambling about Eddie being married?”

Buck blanched. He had, possibly, not told Maddie or Emma about that development. Emma was easy because she’d been busy with Thomas (her grocery store meet-cute man) so he could put off calling her and just text. Maddie though… He’d been lying mostly out of omission, whenever she asked about Eddie. He knew it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t been willingly engaging in adultery or anything, but he felt kind of embarrassed anyway.

“... No,” he replied finally, opening the fridge and adding a splash of milk to his mug.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck caved. “Okay so- I found out on, um, the day of the earthquake?”

“That was- that was almost a month ago, Buck. You came home late and went right upstairs. I thought it was weird, but figured it was just a bad day.”

“It was. A bad day, I mean. But not for work reasons. Turns out that, uh, Eddie’s been married and had a kid the whole time I’ve known him. And I did not know.”

She paused, mug halfway to her lips. “He what?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“And,” came Hen’s voice from the doorway, “he was on a date with his wife last night, instead of out with the rest of us. Hence the… state we arrived in.”

“Ah,” said Maddie, eloquently.

“Yeah,” said Buck again.

“Does Emma know?”

“... No.”

“Buck.”

“... I’ll go call her.”

“THAT ASSHOLE.”

Buck held the phone away from his head, legitimately worried about his hearing.

“I cannot believe- GOD. That. Utter. Asshole. What the f*ck is wrong with him?”

“I-” started Buck.

“Who the f*ck does that?” Emma continued. “I mean really, what the f*ck!”

Buck settled into his seat at the breakfast bar and put the phone on speakerphone on the counter. Emma continued to rant. He sipped his coffee.

By the time Emma was winding down, Maddie and Hen came back with McDonald's, and Chimney was wandering down the stairs.

“Hey,” Buck interrupted her. “I’ve got to go now.”

“Wha- Now?”

“Yeah. We can talk more about it later?”

“You bet your ass we’re talking more about it later.”

Buck smiled to himself. “Bye, Emma.”

“Bye.”

He hung up the phone and grabbed the Egg McMuffin his sister handed to him.

“So what are we doing about this?” asked Hen, biting into her own breakfast.

“Doing about what?” Chim said through a yawn.

Maddie passed him a wrap that Hen must’ve ordered, blushing far too much considering Chimney was hungover, had just woken up, and was his coworker. Buck elected to ignore this.

“About Eddie,” Hen said.

Buck groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “Nothing. We are doing nothing. I am moving on.”

“You’re just… moving on?” said Maddie.

Yes,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and going to pour himself another mug. “I’m not letting him take up any more space in my mind. It’s over, it’s in the past, we are doing nothing.”

Hen and Chim shared a look. Buck still didn’t know what it meant.

“Alright Buckaroo, if you say so.”

Buck didn’t like that they were just… giving in. It felt too easy. He was too hungover to question it though, and just unwrapped his breakfast.

Meddling friends were a problem for tomorrow.