Chapter Text
“It’s too fucking hot.”
There was no response, not even an acknowledgement, so Buck lifted his head from the couch to make sure that everyone hadn’t just left him in the loft by himself. But no, Chimney was still laying spread eagle on the floor with his eyes closed, Hen was still draped in one of the arm chairs, and Eddie was still sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, his forehead pressed to the quartz countertop.
“It’s too fucking hot,” Buck repeated, louder this time.
“We know,” Hen sighed. She pressed a button on the remote and the channel changed to KTLA, where a reporter was talking about the heatwave, footage of packed beaches and hotel pools filling the screen. The camera zoomed in on a family splashing in the ocean and Buck moaned. “Why is this happening to me?”
“It’s LA in July, Buck,” Chimney said.
“Also the weather is not happening to you personally,” Eddie said, finally lifting his head up. He stood and walked over to the fridge, pulling two cans of Coke from its depths. He held one up so Buck could see, his eyebrow raised in question. Buck nodded and Eddie tossed it to him.
The cool metal of the can felt incredible in his hands and suddenly, Buck had never been so thirsty in his entire life. He cracked it open and drained half in 10 seconds flat, only to choke on a mouthful as his eyes landed back on Eddie, who was running his own can along his temple, down the side of his face, and across his throat. Pull it together Buckley, he instructed himself sternly. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from where the condensation from the can clung to Eddie’s skin and goddamn it. Buck stood quickly, careful not to step on Chimney as he made a beeline to the freezer, opened the door and stuck his entire head inside.
“Buck!” Bobby called as he came up the stairs. “Do not let all the cold air out, there’s chicken in there that can’t be re-frozen if it thaws out.”
Again, Buck groaned and reluctantly pulled back, closing the freezer door. He glanced sideways and saw Eddie leaning against the counter and staring at him, eyebrows raised. “What is the matter with you?” he asked.
“It’s too -”
“Fucking hot,” Eddie finished, laughing and rolling his eyes. “Got it.”
Over their heads, the alarm rang and Eddie clapped Buck on the shoulder, putting his can on the counter and heading down the stairs to the truck. Buck tipped his head back, pouring the rest of the Coke down his throat, threw it in the trash can and jogged to join the rest of the team, pretending he couldn’t still feel the phantom weight of Eddie’s hand on his shoulder.
Their first call was at a pool party and if Buck didn’t think the universe had it in for him before, he certainly did now. All around them, college students in tiny bathing suits were lounging in the sun, drinking in the pool, fanning themselves under umbrellas and completely, utterly unbothered by the presence of fire and rescue personnel on the deck.
They’d been called to treat multiple incidents of heat stroke and Hen and Chim had five patients lined up against the wall, cooling blankets draped over each of them. Like his spidey senses were tingling, Chimney opened a vomit bag and handed it to the guy on the end just in time for him to lose his lunch. Buck wrinkled his nose and glanced away from the patients, surveying the rest of the party.
Everywhere he looked, there were gorgeous people - miles of tanned skin and long legs and ripped abs and breasts that defied gravity - and he wasn’t like that anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. A redhead in a white bikini across the way caught his eye, but then a brunet in short, green board shorts walked past and Buck tracked him across the pool deck, watching as he slipped into the water and oh god, that pool. It looked incredible. The water was crystal clear, so Buck could see every sparkle of the blue mosaic tiles that coated the walls and the pool floor, and he would have cut off one or more of his limbs for a chance to dive in right then.
Beside him, Eddie nudged his shoulder into Buck’s, pulling him out of his trance. “Focus up Buckley,” he said quietly, clearly fighting to keep the laughter out of his voice.
“Would it kill one of them to fall in so I can save them?” Buck muttered under his breath. “I’m not asking for anything major. Just a light drowning.”
At that, Eddie did laugh and Buck smiled, pleased. It didn’t matter how many times it happened, making Eddie laugh always felt like an accomplishment.
“I could push you in,” Eddie offered.
“I think Cap would have both our asses for that.”
As if on cue, Bobby shouted at them, “Buckley, Diaz, transport, let’s go.”
They snapped into action immediately and hurried over to the victims, getting the ones who could walk into the shade with instructions to go home and the one with both heat stroke and alcohol poisoning loaded onto a gurney and into the ambulance to get their stomach pumped at First Presbyterian.
Back at the engine, Buck pulled water bottles from the cooler stashed under the bench and handed them out to the team so they could all rehydrate. Once the bottles were drained, Buck collapsed against the side of the truck and opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Chimney cut him off. “Don’t even say it Buck. We know.”
The majority of their shift passed relatively easily. With few calls, they actually had a chance to do chores around the firehouse - mopping the floors, reorganizing and restocking the gear on the rigs, cleaning out the fridge - and get some rest. They were even able to sit down for an uninterrupted family lunch of hoagie sandwiches, coleslaw, and water melon slices.
“It’s called a Heat Dome,” Buck said through a mouthful of melon. He chewed and swallowed, scrolling past an advertisement for portable air conditioners and kept reading aloud. “It’s caused by a strong ridge of high pressure that traps warm air underneath it and causes a heat wave.” He paused, his eyes scanning the article. “Jesus Christ, they say it’s basically a pressure cooker. We’re living in a pressure cooker.”
“Climate change,” Hen said, shaking her head.
“The entire West Coast, all the way up to Canada, is under an extreme heat warning.” Buck turned to look at Eddie, his eyes wide. “Canada.”
Eddie bit back a smile and nodded. “It’s only supposed to last a few days, Buck.”
“A few days is too long,” he muttered, already scrolling through another online article.
Chimney pushed away from the table and started clearing the plates. “I love it when Buckaroo gets fixated on weird weather phenomenons. Remember when he couldn’t stop talking about Dust Devils?”
Eddie stood, grabbing his plate and Buck’s, and asked, “What are Dust Devils?”
“Don’t get him started,” Bobby warned. Buck ignored him and spun in his chair to face Eddie in the kitchen. “They’re basically small tornados,” he said. “They form when hot air near the Earth’s surface rises through a pocket of cooler air above. The air starts to spin and sucks in more air which causes it to spin faster which pulls in debris and then they’re just short columns of hot spinning air and junk.”
“Cool,” Eddie said sincerely and Buck smiled. “Remind me to tell you about Lenticular Clouds,” he said.
“Tell Chris, he loves clouds,” Eddie said, bending to load the dishwasher.
“Yeah, okay,” Buck agreed softly.
Above their heads, the alarm sounded and a voice on the PA announced, “Three alarm fire at 5230 Pacific Concourse.”
“A fire?” Buck shouted incredulously as the 118 sprung into action, running down the stairs and starting to pull their turnout on.
“Yes Buck, that happens,” Bobby said, stepping into his trousers and fastening the suspenders.
“But a fire? Today?”
Eddie shrugged his coat on and punched Buck in the shoulder as he walked past. “The universe is still not out to get you.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Buck called after him. He sighed loudly and grabbed his helmet, jamming it onto his head as he hopped into the truck beside Eddie.
Buck wanted to die.
Actually, he thought, he probably died twenty minutes ago and just hadn’t noticed because he was pretty sure this was hell.
It wasn’t a huge fire, it had only spread to three floors of the office building before it was under control but they’d been methodical with their sweep of the building, ensuring everything was secure and everyone was out, and climbing 11 flights of stairs in full turnout was not Buck’s idea of fun. Especially not when it was hotter than Satan’s asshole outside.
At the very least, it was their last call of the day and Buck knew that there would be a cold shower and (hopefully) a cold beer waiting for him on the other side.
He kicked the door of the last office open and ran in, checking under the desk, beside the filing cabinets, behind the door, until he was sure it was clear. He walked back out into the hallway and paused, taking a deep breath as Eddie walked out of a conference room. Eddie pulled his helmet off and wiped a hand across his forehead, leaning against a wall.
“You good?” he breathed.
Buck nodded. “I feel like my soul has left my body, but sure, good.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh, put his helmet back on, and they headed down the stairs and out into the blazing hot sun.
Back at the truck, Chimney handed them both bottles of water and before Buck could blink, Eddie had ripped off his helmet and dumped half of the bottle over his head. Buck watched, dazed, as the rivulets of water streaked through the soot on Eddie’s face, down his throat, over his Adam’s Apple, which bobbed as he swallowed. He forced himself to look away, tearing his gaze from his best friend and looking straight at… Hen. Who was staring at him with a single eyebrow raised. Buck flinched and tried to cover it up by opening his own water bottle and taking what he hoped was a nonchalant sip. His gaze flickered back to Hen and she was still watching him, but her face had softened and a smile was playing on her lips.
Buck chugged from his water bottle and vowed to get himself under control.
Back at the firehouse at the end of their shift, Buck had been out of the showers and dressed for five minutes and he was already sweating again. His skin was tacky, his gym tank was sticking to every inch of his torso, and he felt disgusting.
“You got plans for the rest of the day?”
Buck turned to see Eddie walking towards him, raking a hand through wet hair, his gym bag on his shoulder. He ignored the way his heart rate sped up - at this point, he was used to ignoring how his body responded to Eddie’s proximity - and said “Nah, it’s too hot to do anything.”
“Want to come pick Chris up with me?”
Buck felt something loosen in his chest and he smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
In the parking lot, they bypassed Buck’s Jeep and slid into Eddie’s truck. They both hissed as their thighs hit the hot leather seats and Buck lifted his hips, muttering curse words under his breath.
“Why didn’t you park in the shade?” he whined.
“I did,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. “But the sun moves, genius.” He turned on the air conditioning and two minutes later, they were on the road, enveloped in cold air. As the temperature dropped, Buck’s mood improved. He snatched the aux cord and pulled his phone out of his pocket, already thumbing through his library to find the most obnoxious country song possible, just because he knew Eddie would hate it. Before he could plug it in, Eddie reached across to stop him, his hand gripping Buck’s wrist.
“Buck, I swear to God if you put on any of your twangy bullshit, I will kick your ass out of this car.”
“Fine,” Buck said, laughing. After a beat, he pulled up Leon Bridges and hit play on “Shine”. Eddie hummed his approval, cranking the volume.
As they drove, Buck’s eyes drifted shut, lulled by the music, the steady movement of the car, and the sound of Eddie tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm. After a long, hot shift, this was exactly where he wanted to be, exactly what he needed - to be sitting in this truck, beside his best friend, on their way to hang out with the best kid - even if it sometimes felt like he was being eaten alive by how much more he wanted.
They pulled up to the curb in front of a little yellow house with a front porch and Eddie killed the engine.
“I’ll wait -” Buck started to say.
Eddie didn’t even glance over as he dropped down to the asphalt and said, “Get your ass out of the car. I’m not explaining to my abuela why you didn’t want to say hello.” And what the hell was Buck supposed to say to that? He sighed and followed Eddie out of the truck and up the path to the front door.
“Edmundo!” Isabel said with a smile. She spotted Buck and clapped her hands together. “And Buck, what a lovely surprise.”
“Hola Isabel,” Buck said, smiling softly.
“Hola,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Buck’s hand. She looked back at Eddie. “Christopher is still out back and I just made a fresh batch of gazpacho so you can’t leave yet,” she said, taking a step back so they could enter. Buck and Eddie exchanged a quick glance - a raised eyebrow from Eddie, a twitch of a smile from Buck - wordless communication that was honed on the job and had become second nature, and stepped inside.
In the small, fenced backyard, Christopher was sitting in a blue inflatable wading pool under the shade of a large tree. “Buck!” he called as soon as they stepped onto the back deck.
“Hey buddy!” Buck said, jogging down the steps and squatting beside the pool, ruffling Chris’s wet curls. “You’re lucky to be hanging out in this pool,” he said. “Your dad and I had to walk through fire today.”
“It’s too hot for that,” Chris said seriously.
Buck laughed and looked up at Eddie. “You are absolutely right Chris, it is too hot for that. I’ve been saying that all day.” Eddie rolled his eyes and ignored Buck completely. “You want gazpacho bud?” he asked Chris. “Your bisabuela made some fresh.” Christopher nodded and reached his arms out so Buck swooped down to lift him up before Eddie could even take a step forward.
The three of them moved to the deck and sank into lawn chairs as Isabel brought them each large bowls of gazpacho. She returned moments later with beers for Buck and Eddie and Buck was so grateful he could have kissed her. “Muchas gracias,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. Isabel patted his cheek, smiling softly. “De nada.”
They dug in and Buck moaned around the spoon in his mouth. “This is so good.”
Eddie hummed and ate another spoonful. “Chris, you should tell Buck about your science project.”
Chris brightened and started talking quickly about everything he had learned about space so far in summer school - “Did you know that there was another planet that they decided wasn’t a planet? Now it’s just a Dwarf planet” - the diorama he was planning to make and the paper he had to write on his favourite planet. Buck could feel himself smiling the whole time. He would gladly spend an entire afternoon listening to this kid talk - about space, about dinosaurs, about lego, about whatever.
“What’s your favourite planet Buck?” Chris asked.
“Good question,” Buck said, considering it. “Earth is pretty cool.”
“Because we live on it?”
“Exactly,” Buck said. He scraped his bowl with the spoon and ate the last bite of his gazpacho. “I think my favourite is probably Mars though.”
“Why?” Chris asked.
Buck put his bowl on the table and glanced up at Eddie, who was watching their exchange with an indecipherable expression on his face. He blinked and refocused on Christopher. “Well, Mars has mountains and valleys just like Earth and it has the biggest volcano in the entire solar system - it’s three times taller than Mount Everest,” he said. “It was also named by the ancient Romans for their god of war because the red colour reminded them of blood. Isn't that cool?”
Chris nodded, his attention rapt on Buck.
“But I think what I like most about Mars is how hard all the scientists are trying to learn more about it. No planet other than Earth has been explored as much as Mars and NASA has a fleet of spacecrafts dedicated to studying it from all angles - on the ground, in the air, and even in orbit - but they still want to learn more.” Buck paused. “Have you ever seen The Martian?”
Chris shook his head. “Next movie night,” Buck promised. He looked up at Eddie again and saw that his face had softened into a small, amused smile. “Not sure that movie is appropriate for ten year olds, Buck,” he said.
Buck smirked at him, then winked at Christopher, “Next movie night without your Dad.”
Christopher laughed and said, “Deal.”
“Hey,” Eddie protested weakly. “No conspiring against me.”
Their bowls empty, Buck gathered the dishes, stepping inside to rinse them in the sink of the empty kitchen before returning to the deck. It was almost 8pm but the sun was still high in the sky and the heat hadn’t broken. “Why is it still so hot?” he whined.
“Heat dome, remember?” Eddie said.
“Stupid heat dome,” Buck muttered, collapsing back into the lawn chair.
Eddie rolled his eyes and stood. “You’re a giant man-child,” he said as he made his way down the stairs and over to the garden hose affixed to the wooden fence. Eddie unspooled the hose and connected the sprinkler head, bending down to turn the faucet. Instantly, water shot out in an arch and Eddie dropped it on the grass as it oscillated away from him.
Buck leapt to his feet and laughed, clapping his hands together. “Yes!” he shouted.
He reached at the base of his neck to pull his tank top over his head, tossed it on the deck and bounded down the stairs to run through the spray. The water hit his chest and face as he leaped over the sprinkler and Buck felt instant relief. On the other side, he came to a halt right in front of Eddie, wiping the water out of his eyes and running his fingers through his hair, still smiling.
And Eddie— Eddie was smiling back, holding Buck’s gaze steadily, his eyes dark. “Better?” he asked.
Buck’s heart rate sped up and, not trusting himself to speak, he just nodded and swallowed hard.
The sprinkler’s spray swung back in their direction and blasted Buck in the back with freezing cold water, snapping him out his trance. He blinked and plastered the smile back on his face as he dragged his eyes away from Eddie and jogged back over to Christopher, crouching in front of the boy.
“What’d ya say kid?” Buck said, opening his arms.
“Yeah!” Chris cheered. Buck picked him up, throwing Chris over his shoulder in a fireman carry and ran through the sprinkler again, Christopher’s peals of giggles making him laugh too. Eddie walked back over to the deck and leaned against the wooden railing, watching them.
Buck placed Chris on his feet on the grass. “Want to try it this time?”
Chris nodded and reached his hand out to Buck, who took it in his, and together, they slowly walked back through the water.
“Dad!” Chris called on the other side. “Come on!”
“Okay Superman,” Eddie said, laughing. He stooped as he ran forward and picked Chris up, throwing him over his shoulder and running through the sprinkler, still fully clothed, cheering the whole time. The vice around Buck’s ribs tightened painfully as he watched them, a lump forming in his throat. In that moment, he didn’t care that they were still in the middle of a heat wave, he didn’t care that they had to work again the next day in triple digit temperatures, and he didn’t care that he wanted more than Eddie could give him, because he would take whatever he was offering if it meant he could have more days like these.
Fuck, he was in a weird mood. Stupid heat dome.
Eventually, they collapsed on the dry grass in the sun to dry off. Buck threw an arm over his face to shield his eyes and let himself enjoy the feeling of grass on his back, sun warming his skin, and soaked shorts keeping him cool. It was the perfect evening.
Minutes, or maybe hours, later, Isabel returned to the deck and told them that, as much as she enjoyed their company, they should get home before Christopher’s bed time. Eddie scooped his son from the ground, where he was already nodding off from a full belly and a full day of sun, and carried him back out to the truck, slipping him into the backseat.
When he had closed the door, Eddie turned to Buck. He hesitated briefly and then said, “Want me to drive you back to the firehouse to get your Jeep?”
Buck felt disappointment flare in the pit of his stomach, but he said, “Sure.”
“Or—” Eddie started. “Or you could just stay at our place? We can go in to work together tomorrow.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Get in the car Buck.”
Christopher woke up on the drive back to Eddie’s and as soon as they were through the front door, he was grabbing Buck’s hand and dragging him to his room to show Buck the new lego figure that he’d put together last week. “It actually looks like the picture on the box!” he cried.
Buck almost laughed, thinking about Eddie’s words when he had brought Chris to his place after the tsunami: “Between us, he’s never built anything that kinda looks like anything. He just likes sticking things together.” But this did indeed look like the picture on the box.
“It’s the Millennium Falcon,” Chris explained.
“It certainly is - good job bud!”
“Dad helped.”
“Don’t worry, I know you’re the smart one in the family,” Buck said, ruffling Chris’ hair.
“Alright,” Eddie called from the doorway. “I’m not going to stand for this slander any more. Come on Christopher, bed.”
Buck retreated to the living room and sank down onto the couch, listening to the familiar sounds of Chris’ bedtime routine - a bath, pyjamas, a chapter from his latest book, quiet ‘I love yous’ and the easing shut of his bedroom door - before Eddie reappeared, holding two beer bottles.
He handed one to Buck and sank down on the couch beside him while Buck tried not to read too much into the lack of space he’d left between their thighs.
Eddie grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, and flicked through the stations until he landed on a LA Clippers game with only 10 minutes left. Neither of them were basketball fans, but he was grateful that it gave him something to focus on that wasn’t the warmth radiating from Eddie’s arm as it brushed against his own every time Eddie lifted the beer bottle to his mouth.
On a commercial break, Buck pulled up his phone and opened the weather app. “It’s almost 10pm, how the hell is it still 90 degrees outside?”
He looked at Eddie and saw the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Heat dome,” he said.
Buck bit back his laugh and shook his head. “I hate you.”
The game ended and Buck didn’t even register the final score; someone could have had a gun to his head and he was pretty sure he still wouldn’t be able to name the opposing team. Eddie stood and snagged Buck’s empty beer bottle, disappearing down the hallway and coming back with a pair of shorts and a pillow, which he lobed directly at Buck’s head. “Night,” he said.
Buck caught the pillow and hugged it to himself. “Hey,” he said just as Eddie was moving to head back down the hall to his bedroom. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
Eddie hesitated and then smiled. “Open invitation.” Buck’s heart stuttered in his chest as he nodded and clutched the pillow tighter. “Night.”
When Eddie’s bedroom door clicked shut, Buck changed into the fresh pair of shorts and stretched out on the couch, but he didn’t fall asleep.
The heat had finally faded into something bearable, but Buck couldn’t settle down. He felt like he was vibrating, adrenaline buzzing in his bloodstream, his limbs restless. If he was at his place, he would have gotten up, gone for a run, maybe jerked off - anything to release the tension - but instead he was doomed to spend the night like a live wire, thinking about Eddie and his smile when they were running through the sprinkler, about Eddie’s hand on his wrist in the truck, about the look on Eddie’s face when he’d been talking to Chris about his science project.
He could practically taste all the questions he wanted to ask, all the words on the tip of his tongue every time Eddie looked at him for a beat too long, all the things he swallowed every day so he didn’t risk fucking everything up.
Buck rolled onto his side and punched the pillow into a ball at his neck, shutting his eyes tight, and tried not to think of warm brown eyes and hard won smiles.