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Silence. After hours of being on their feet the world seemed to finally go quiet. Or at least it felt that way inside the station.
Everyone taking advantage of the moment almost immediately with things that they don’t often have the time for. An actual nap in the station dorms being quite a popular choice. The dark room filled with beds that squeaked under one’s weight now also full of breathy snores and disheveled blankets. Also - much to Chim’s excitement - Bobby is working on an actual meal for the crew that doesn’t have to be reheated. The smell of boiling chicken stalk filling the air, a thick savory smell that made all their stomachs cry.
Anyone here can tell you that the fire station isn't normally a place where you can enjoy your own peace of mind. Some actually say that if the air stills for an uncomfortable amount of time to expect the worst. An almost calm-before-the-storm type deal. These being skeptics of course, but more often than not it seems the outcome is always the latter. We’re just busy.
A warm breeze blew through the agape roll-up doors, tunneling between fire trucks and engulfing Buck in both the feel and fragrance of a hot summer day. In the wind, a few strands of hair escape the mans gelled updo, tickling his skin and blowing swiftly across his sweat-slicked forehead - hair trying desperately to go curly once again. He huffed, rubbing at them with the back of his hand, flipping a now stained rag over his shoulder. The cloth was cold, damp with cleaning product.
Buck bent down to pick up a crowbar. His palms were weighed down and he felt no less than perfect holding it - it shined, just cleaned, and was as heavy as he anticipated.
Perfect fit for me, he thought. A throaty laugh ran through the man. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he wanted to swing the thing like a baseball bat sometimes. At what? He didn’t know. But it was definitely a thought that ran by him more than once.
Turning a metal handle on the side of the truck and pulling, wide door falling open. Glimmering metal wrenches, crowbars, hammers, and others alike were sitting neatly in their designated spots behind it. He put the tool in his hands into an open slot and shut the compartment door once again, the handle whining as he clicked it closed. In an instinctive gesture, he pats the truck twice in succession as if patting the vehicle on the back and walking away to the staircase.
Each step Buck takes up the stairs is accompanied by a thump from his boots.
Eddie – sitting at the dining table – peers up from the phone in his hand just to smirk at the sight before him. He nudges Hen with his elbow.
“Look who it is,” he chimes sarcastically. They’re both looking to him now, glints of humor in their eyes.
Buck sighs, “I don’t want to hear it please,” pulling out a chair, he sits across Hen with a groan.
“Listen Buck, I got to say, not doing my chores is -” pausing, Eddie sits back nonchalantly, closing his eyes and stretching, “quite nice.”
Buck should have learned by now to stop making bets with people. It never ends good for him. This time around being the outcome of a bet he made with Eddie this morning. A man made a call about being stuck in some sort of travel trailer. Those metal ones that are dragged behind trucks. An urgent call considering it was a hot day, and no normal person could survive being stuck in what’s basically a cooking tin can.
Not even a second after the call Eddie leaned over and whispered to him, “I bet he throws up.”
He did.
“I don’t even know how you would cheat but I’m just going to say you did.” Buck whined; his voice rough.
Eddie scoffed, putting his hand on his chest dramatically “Me? Cheat? That’s crazy talk,” he looked to Hen, “do you hear this, Hen?”
“I do Eddie,” she crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, “someone is just a sore loser, don’t take it to heart.”
After scrubbing basically everything in and on their truck, he couldn’t help but scoff.
“Bobby, come on, this is bullshit right?” Buck insisted, wanting the older man to just back him up. All three of them looked to Bobby who stood over the stove in the kitchen. He gave them a smile and sigh, not looking their way, taking off the lid to the large pot sitting atop a burner. Plume of smoke blowing up into his face, the contents of the pot boiling loudly.
Bobby talked from behind the smoke, “This is a punishment of your own making.”
Taking the ladle laying idly to the side, he stirred the soup. Then after softly tapping the ladle on the rim of the pot he set it back down on the counter. Continuing once again after setting the lid back atop the pot, capping the smoke off.
Buck muttered, “You sound like a fortune cookie.”
“You never learn,” Bobby shook his head, smile still plastered on his face, “how many times have I told you that bets are not worth it?”
“How about a ‘Yeah, I think this all really sucks Buck’ instead,” he tilted back in his chair, balancing on the seat’s hind legs.
Bobby stepped out from the kitchen and walked over to him. “How would I get anything through that thick skull of yours if I said that?” He grabbed the back of Bucks chair and pushed it steady, “And how many times do I have to tell you not to do that in the chairs?”
Hen and Eddie laughed in unison. As if on cue, Chim walks out of the dorms, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. Plotting.
Chim exclaimed happily, “is it make fun of Buck time?” looking between everyone, “You know it’s my favorite time of day.”
“Something like that,” says Bobby patting Bucks shoulder, “Now he is going to help me with a bit of cooking.”
Buck rolled his eyes, “You picked the one person in this room that can’t cook.”
“You’ll just be cutting up the salad for me,” he sits at the end of the table with a relaxed sigh, “and wash your hands.”
He reminds him as if he wouldn’t have done it. That Buck, the grown adult, would have handled all their meals with grime riddled fingertips. Not that he wanted to handle any food in the first place. He wasn’t made to cook for anyone. It was as if the food just burned at the thought of Buck preparing it.
Not only that but Bobby actually wants him to cook. It has been a few weeks since Bobby started subtly pushing him to try his hand at cooking more. If one can consider cutting things, and only cutting things cooking. Cheese, fruit, various assortments of meat. Buck has, and probably will chop it up at this rate.
Standing up, Buck strides over to the kitchen area making sure to side eye Eddie on his way over. Chim steals his seat once its empty.
He turns on the sink. Pumping some of the clear, minty soap into his palm before scrubbing his hands under the water. The water steams, hot on his skin but doing wonders against the dirt. Calloused hands now tinted red but as clean as they could get. Drying them off against a hand towel draped atop the oven handle.
Unceremoniously unsheathing a knife from the wooden knife block, the overhead light reflecting off its metal surface.
There is already a strainer filled with various vegetables. He places a head of lettuce, freshly cleaned, on the cutting board. Cold droplets of water run down his knuckles.
Then he cuts.
It’s hard not to just guess where he was supposed to cut the stupid vegetable. Assuming the stem comes off first, then from there he sort of just cuts randomly amongst the leaves. Edge of the knife clicking atop the wood beneath it, the lettuce crunching as he pushes through it.
Chim muttered something. Considering he missed the first half of the conversation; he couldn’t pinpoint what they were talking about exactly in that moment.
“I want to do something special ya know?” He scooched the chair closer to the table. It scraped across the floor with a screech.
Women, of course they were talking about women.
“Maddie is like the queen of giving gifts, there is no way whatever I get will beat what she gets me,” he had a hint of worry in his voice.
“I don’t think this is supposed to be a competition,” Hen considers.
The Bane of his existence. Valentines’ day. It was coming up this weekend and it doesn’t bother him. At least that’s what he tells everyone.
“Just take her somewhere special, Eddie states calmly.
“And where does the Eddie consider somewhere special?”
Buck scrapes now chopped lettuce to the side, taking out the yellow and red bell peppers sitting in the strainer. He would never admit it but he listened more intently now that Eddie has been brought up.
“I don’t know,” he ponders, “I always just took Ana to the fanciest place I could find.”
Ana.
He didn’t hate her. There was literally nothing about the woman to hate. She is an amazing teacher and too kind for her own good.
But every time her name came out of Eddies mouth his heart leaped. Every time Christopher talked so highly of her, he felt that familiar ping of jealousy. It was relief that flooded over him when things didn’t work out between the two. Right? Should he feel guilty about that? That’s not something a supportive friend would hope for.
“Aww, we have a little lovebird on our hands.” Hen exclaims sarcastically.
“Okay okay you are no help at all Eddie.”
“You’re literally the one that asked me,” Eddie breathed through his nose as if to sigh.
He chopped the top of the yellow pepper off. Various small seeds fell from the now open vegetable onto the cutting board. Running his finger along the side of the blade getting the sticking seeds off before continuing to cut. Buck then glanced quickly to the dining table, just in time to see Hen roll her eyes. Then he noticed another set of eyes were actually on him.
Eddies.
The moment their eyes locked – brown meeting blue – and the amount of tension in just that moment weighed heavy on him. Eddie seemed to panic. Making sure to look away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous tick.
His brain fluttered, floating away from him in that moment. So much so that movement didn’t connect with thought and the knife in his hands chopped down into not just pepper, but flesh as well.
Steel met skin, snagging against the surface of his index finger and tearing through, dragging to the top of his palm, ripping it apart in one fluid motion.
He inhaled sharply through his teeth, dropping the knife, it clattering atop the countertop.
In an instant, all eyes turned to Buck.
“Fuck!” he swore to no one but himself. Stepping away from the counter and holding his own wrist with his other hand. It took a second for blood to start seeping out of the wound. Plain flesh turning a wet crimson red. Dripping and Pooling where it could, dark fluid highlighting every line and indent on his palm. The thick droplets falling to the floor at a slow consistent pace, like a steadily leaking faucet.
“Jesus Evan!” Bobby stammered.
They were all up and over to him in second. Although it was Eddie who grabbed him first. Pulling his hand toward him by the wrist just to look at the wound closer. He was gentle, letting the back of Bucks hand sit atop his own palm. Wanting to hold the injury without bothering it more than necessary.
He set a palm atop Bucks shoulder, pushing and leading the man to the kitchen sink. The water ran cold before he put the wound under it. Even then, it hurt.
Blood consistently clouded the water before seeping down the drain.
“It looks nasty, but probably won’t need stitches.” Hen said looking closely at the wound as well.
“Lucky me.” Buck breathed, gritting his teeth.
“Gotta put pressure on it,” Chim pointed to the hand towel, “with you on blood thinners I wouldn’t trust a paper cut let alone a wound like this.”
His entire palm felt warm, the edges of the cut stinging constantly. It was as if there was a heartbeat inside his hand, a throbbing feeling just as intense under the skin.
“Go get some bandages from the ambulance, there should be plenty.” Bobby stated. He grabbed the hand towel on the stove, taking Bucks hand and putting the cloth on the injury. “You can be man behind now if you need to be?”
Buck immediately shook his head. “It’s just a cut, I’ll be fine,” voice seeming more monotone now as he tried to cover up his disdain for the new wound on his hand. The thought of being man behind once again was absolutely terrifying. Once he got a bandage around it, he can pretend this never happened. Just the fact that they are all huddling around him made hot embarrassment run through him. He can fix this.
The towel in his hand was already turning a shade of red as it soaked up his blood. Blood thinners obviously doing their job.
He stepped away from Eddies touch, his hand falling to his side as Buck started away from the group.
“Hey wait,” Eddie called. His hand was right back on Bucks shoulder. He knew just by the feeling of warmth that a flush was now growing across his face. “Let me help. Patching up wounds is basically a part of my job.”
Eddie clicked open the rear doors of the ambulance before climbing inside. The rustling of plastic and medical supplies following soon after. Buck felt a bit ridiculous getting patched up, kind of like a child after scraping their knee, but the look Eddie gave him made his throat squeeze up and unable to protest.
“Alright,” Eddie then placed a pile assorted of ointments, bandages, and wet wipes on the floor of the vehicle before lugging himself down and out of the ambulance “hop up,” he pats the floor of the ambulance next to all the supplies.
Buck rolled his eyes with a reluctant sigh, then using his good arm he pushed himself up onto the ambulance. His legs dangled over the back of the vehicle, heels of his shoes hitting the bumper as he swayed his feet back and forth.
“My life is now in your hands Eddie Diaz,” Buck stuck out his injured hand, putting the back of his other hand to his forehead as he pretended to be a damsel.
While tearing open a sanitary wipe with his teeth you could see the edges of Eddies mouth lift up slightly into a semi smirk, a quiet muffled chuckle being his response.
Letting the back of Bucks hand sit atop his own, Eddie lifted the now damp towel off the wound. The cloth slightly sticking to his skin in the process thanks to some blood around it drying, making the cut sting. Bucks arm jolting in response as if wanting to pull his arm away but remembering not to last minute.
Eddie threw the dirty towel to their feet, “Sorry sorry, hang with me for a minute,” his words tinged with concern but utter intent to fix the problem in front of him. A warm but soothing tone that made Bucks heart race.
The wipe was cold against his skin. Eddie being gentle but firm enough to clean the area that surrounded the cut. Wet white cloth now turning a shade of crimson and dark red, old and new blood mixing.
Buck watched Eddies hand reach over, putting the used wet wipe down and picking up some gauze. Focusing on his fingers at first before scanning up his arm, then neck. He couldn’t help but notice every indent, every rise and fall in Eddies stature. The way his fingers grazed over his skin, warm and gentle. How Eddie leaned closer to wrap his cut in the gauze, and his leg touching Bucks in the process. It was mindless. Eddie didn’t think when he patched people up, he could just do it.
It was quiet now except for both of their breathing and the distant murmuring of the 118 upstairs.
He didn’t realize it but he was staring at Eddie, caught in his own thoughts. It only took his eyes meeting with Eddies for him to break out of this type of trance. Realizing then and there that Eddie was watching him. He was watching him watch Eddie. This made his heart lurch, face going red with embarrassment.
“I’m done,” Eddie stated softly still looking Buck right in the eyes.
Buck was the one to break eye contact looking down at his now bandaged hand, and back up to Eddie who seemed to never look away.
Buck stammered, “Thanks,” air going still for a brief moment after.
“Fixing people is my job remember?” Buck knew that was true but he hated being anyone’s patient. “Stop that.”
Bucks’ eyebrow furrowed in confusion, “Stop what?”
“Thinking so hard, I can see that brain of yours churning.”
“I don’t think I could stop that even if I wanted to,” Buck exclaimed.
There was another brief pause between them. It was nothing but absolutely everything at the same time. Eddie seemed to look into Buck, but Buck couldn’t retain the eye contact, glancing away every few seconds. Eddies hand still held Bucks in it. The warmth of Eddies skin seemed to burn into him.
In some sort of desperate attempt to make the tension end Buck started talking out of the blue again. “Well! I’m sure the others are probably wondering what’s taking so long, lets -”
“Can I kiss you,” Eddie interrupted calmly.
The air seemed to leave Bucks lungs at that moment.
Not even a second later Eddie started to stammer, “Unless I read this moment wrong, then just forget I said anything!” It was a complete turn around from the calmness a second ago and made a smile grow on Bucks face.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that?” Buck stated but wasn’t able to get another word out before Eddie placed a hand gently atop the side of Bucks face, pulling him in with little hesitation. Like he was waiting to kiss the other man as well.
A feeling of warmth spread across Bucks body as they kissed. Tasting the bitter sweet taste of his morning coffee as he hungrily leaned into the soft lips of the other man. Smelling his cologne, feeling his thumb caress across his cheek. It was utterly overwhelming but everything he had ever hoped for.
Then, like that, as soon as it started it ended. Both of them pulling away and breathing deeply, catching their breaths.
It took a moment but Eddie found his voice eventually, “You’re perfect.” His eyes scanned over Bucks face, taking in every piece of the man before they both had to separate.
Buck didn’t want to leave his warmth; he wanted to freeze time and stay against Eddie for as long as possible.
But life had other plans.
The fire alarm rang abruptly over the two’s heads. The stomping of boots running around them suddenly filled the air and before anyone could see them together, they separated.
But before they could join the others in rushing to whatever the world had in store for them, Buck gripped Eddies shirt.
“Don’t you dare let that be the only time that happens,” he stated sternly but with a hint of comedy.
Eddie laughed, giving Buck a wink before running off with the others.