Chapter Text
July 7
Firehouse 118 looked the same as it always did: shining trucks parked in the garage, glass locker room slightly messy, and the scent of something delicious wafting down from the loft. Buck mapped a familiar path as he walked in, skirting around a bucket and mop leaning on the side of one of the engines. The soft click, click of his cane hitting the concrete echoed off the walls, announcing his arrival to everyone upstairs.
Hen’s face was the first to peer over the banister, beaming brightly when she caught sight of Buck. “Buckaroo!” she called. “You’re just in time! Bobby made stir-fry!”
“Yes!” Buck pumped his fist. “I’m on my way!”
The stairs at the station had once been something he took automatically, without thinking. He’d never counted the steps or wondered if he could do it. Now, he gripped the left rail tightly in one hand, and braced his cane with the other. His right leg moved easily, but the left dragged with every step. Trying to pull his knee up only worked for a few inches, and felt like he’d put on ankle weights. Apparently, being crushed under a firetruck could cause quite a bit of damage to bones, muscles, and nerves. He’d been learning that the hard way.
It took a while, and by the time Buck made it to the loft, he was breathing heavily and sweat was beading at his hairline. He ignored it in favor of smiling at his former coworkers and beelining for a seat.
Despite Buck being forced to medically retire, the whole team had been very clear that Buck would always have a place with them, and they would always show up for him. After being injured, and subsequently broken up with, there had been an unending stream of people visiting, cooking, cleaning, and entertaining. Hen had brought Denny over with a new video game that lasted him and Buck nearly three hours while she made his bathroom accessible. Bobby had stocked his freezer with enough food for a year, and spent several hours teaching him Gin Rummy. Chim had brought over half of his movie collection and forced Buck to watch it with him over bad microwave popcorn and drugstore candy. Buck had never felt so loved in his life.
Bobby passed him a plate, and he filled it up with thin, tender meat, perfectly cooked vegetables, and soft white rice. He’d tried to get the recipe out of his captain for ages, but Bobby stayed tight lipped. Buck had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the sauce, but he couldn’t prove it. “So, any good calls today?”
“No, it’s been pretty Q-word,” Chim said, leaning back dangerously in his chair. “But there is news. Bobby, you want to tell him?”
Bobby bit his lip, not quite meeting Buck’s eyes. “I was going to wait, Chim.”
Buck frowned. What sort of news was bad enough that Bobby didn’t want to tell him outright? Was someone retiring, leaving, sick? “You can’t make me wait now, it’s just going to freak me out. Just say it. It’s fine.”
“I went to the academy this past weekend, started doing some shopping. I found us a new recruit. He starts next week.”
Time slowed, narrowing to the millisecond after Bobby’s words reached Buck’s ears. A replacement. They’d finally done it, after putting it off for months. Buck knew, of course, that they couldn’t keep pulling in temps from other shifts forever. But thinking of someone else using his locker, hanging their helmet on his hook, sitting in his spot across from Hen and Chim-
He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I-I have to go,” he said quickly, turning around before anyone could reply. He was already at the stairs before the others had processed what was happening.
Unfortunately for Buck, stairs were still his enemy. He hadn’t gone more than a few steps before Hen was walking beside him. “Buck, you know nobody can replace you,” she said gently.
“Really? It doesn’t seem that way.” His voice came out sharper than he intended, and he felt a twinge of shame at the way Hen’s expression faltered. “I’m sorry, Hen. I didn’t mean it. It just… feels bad.”
“I know. And trust me, nobody wants to hurt you, okay? We all wish you were back with us. You were an amazing firefighter, Buck. We were lucky to have you.” Hen rested a hand on his arm and he paused, leaning on the railing. “But now that you’re gone, we need to fill that spot. And the new guy won’t be you. He won’t even be close, because there is nobody in this world like you, Buck. But he’ll be here, and he’ll do his job, and maybe you’ll even grow to like him. Just give him a chance, okay? These circumstances suck, but it’s not his fault.”
Buck sighed, the anger melting out of him. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I feel like I lost everything, you know? My mobility, my job, my girlfriend, I had to move out of my apartment and move in with my sister… I feel like I’m starting from scratch.”
“Oh, Buck.” Hen wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. “You’re starting a new chapter, yes, but that doesn’t take away anything you had before. You’re growing and changing, and you have new lessons to learn and things to do. When do you start at dispatch?”
“Next week.” Buck eased himself down to sit on one of the steps and Hen followed him.
“That’s going to make a big difference,” she promised. “You’ll be doing something constructive with your time, you’ll be helping people again, and you’ll get to talk to us when we go out on calls. I think it’s going to be really good for you.”
Buck leaned his head on Hen’s shoulder. “I really hope you’re right.”
“I often am.” Hen rubbed his back soothingly. “Now, are you going to come back up and finish lunch, or are you going to head out?”
“Lunch. Definitely lunch.”
After a lunch that was only a little bit tense, Buck left the firehouse with a bag full of leftovers and headed for his favorite coffee shop. He’d used to stop by before shifts, but now he went every few days just to feel a little bit normal again. Usually, at this time of day, he was the only customer. Today, though, every table had someone at it.
Buck frowned as he approached the counter, using it to lean on while he pulled out his wallet. “You guys giving coffee away for free or something?”
His favorite barista, MK, who had seemingly boundless energy and a constantly changing hair color, gave him a harried grin. “You’d think so. Some influencer posted a review of us, and it’s been nonstop ever since. You want the usual?”
“Yes please. I guess that’s a good thing, then, means you get a lot of business.” Buck leaned his back against the counter while MK worked, taking the time to look around. Most tables had couples or groups of friends, but one in the back corner was home to the most handsome man Buck had ever seen. Even better- he was alone.
The man had tan skin and dark brown hair with a slight wave. One curl fell over his forehead, and Buck thought he might need to fan himself to cope. He let his gaze travel leisurely down the man’s face, admiring soft brown eyes, perfect bone structure and - Buck felt faint - a mustache. Quite possibly the most attractive mustache he’d ever seen. He fell into a fantasy, imagining that mustache brushing his lips as they kissed, trailing down his neck, his chest…
“-uck? Buck, you okay?” MK was holding out Buck’s latte, their dyed green brows furrowed in concern. “Look, dude, I know first aid, but I do not want to test that today, you hear me?”
Buck flinched back into reality, whipping around to take the offered drink. “Sorry. I was just a little… distracted.”
“Mmhmm.” MK raised their eyebrows knowingly. “Tall dark and handsome over there, huh? He’s pretty distracting.”
“No kidding.” Buck shook his head. “Anyway. Thank you for the coffee. I’m gonna-” he gestured vaguely.
“Good lu-uck!”
Buck wandered vaguely toward the man’s table, glancing around to see if there were any other empty seats. There weren’t, of course. The place was packed to the brim. As he got closer, the man lifted his head, looking Buck up and down with those gorgeous brown eyes. “Hey,” he called, gesturing to Buck. “You need a place to sit? I’ve got space here.”
“You sure? I don’t want to ruin your whole ‘dark and broody’ thing you’ve got going on.” Buck grabbed the chair back, smirking down at the man.
The man laughed, and Buck wanted to bottle up the sound and put it in his morning coffee. It was warm and real, and it made his chest tight. “Dark and broody, huh? Is that what you think I am?”
“I do. Sitting here in the corner, all quiet and sexy. You’ve got everybody looking at you.” Buck pulled out the chair and sat down.
The man leaned on the table, a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you looking at me, then? You think my ‘dark and brooding’ thing is sexy?”
“Oh yeah.” Buck matched his lean, grinning. “Dark and broody really does it for me.”
“Good to know.” The man’s voice dropped to a low purr, making Buck shiver deliciously. The things he would do to have that voice in his ear in bed…
He snapped back to attention as the man leaned back, pulling a small notebook out of the bag next to him. It was filled with notes in loopy script, such ridiculously nice handwriting that Buck nearly drooled. Was it possible to have a handwriting kink? He wasn’t sure, but he did know he was actively developing one.
The man tore out a blank page and wrote out a number, then a name. ‘Eddie Diaz’, in the same loopy script. Buck Diaz would be a nice name, Buck thought. Evan Diaz was alright, but he didn’t like using Evan. Buck Diaz, then. It was settled.
“I have to get going, but maybe I can meet up with you later and we can continue this conversation.” The man - Eddie - slid the paper across the table. “That is, if you’re still interested in finding out just how dark and broody I really am.”
Buck grabbed the paper with numb fingers. “I would love to,” he breathed. He was pretty sure he was bright pink now, and they were in public, but he was trying to ignore that. “My name is Buck, by the way,” he added clumsily. “Buck Buckley.”
“Your name is Buck Buckley?” Eddie’s perfect eyebrows furrowed. Buck wanted to rub his thumb over the space between them. The glabella, which he had learned the name of during a late night wikipedia binge while in the hospital.
“It’s… a long story.”
“Well, I look forward to hearing it soon.” Eddie brushed his fingers over Buck’s shoulder, making the skin burn with awareness. “Text me.”
Buck nodded, watching in awe as Eddie walked toward the door, showcasing an ass that was positively sinful in his tight, dark wash jeans. He was already imagining a thousand different ways to rip them off.
First things first, though. He opened up his contacts app and entered Eddie in, adding three pink hearts next to his name before sending a text.
Buck: Hey, this is Buck. I’m free whenever you are. Want to get dinner?
Eddie responded within minutes.
Eddie: I’ll pick you up at 6. Wear something nice and send me your address.
“C’mon, pick up, pick up!”
“Hi, you’ve reached Maddie Buckley. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please le-”
Buck groaned, hanging up and throwing his phone onto the mattress. His bed was draped in every piece of clothing he’d ever owned, and none of them were right. The band t-shirts were too casual, the button ups were too formal, and since he’d gotten injured, the muscle in his legs had changed and his jeans no longer fit the way they had. He was about ready to just give up on the date altogether.
From the pile of clothes, his phone buzzed, Maddie’s contact photo lighting up the screen. It was a picture of the two of them on a beach, not long after the whole Doug incident. There was a cut on her cheek that had mostly healed, one of the last surviving marks from that day. She’d told him she thought about getting a tattoo over one of the wounds, a reminder that she had fought for her life and had won.
Buck snatched up the phone and hit answer. “Maddie! I need help.”
“Is this an actual emergency or a stupid emergency? Because right now, Josh thinks you’re having an actual emergency and if you aren’t I’m going to send Athena to give you a citation.”
Buck pouted. “First off, that only counts if I’m calling 9-1-1.”
“I am 9-1-1.”
“It’s your personal phone! Anyway, I’m having an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“I have a date with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen and I have nothing to wear.”
“Evan Buckley, I swear to god-”
“Maddie, I’m serious!” Buck grabbed a shirt, wrinkled his nose, and threw it at the closet. “Everything is wrong and it’s my first date since the accident and this guy is so hot, Mads, you wouldn’t believe it-”
“Buck.” He could see Maddie pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed. “Fine. Come pick me up and I’ll take a long lunch so we can go shopping.”
Buck pulled up outside Dispatch half an hour later to find Maddie already waiting outside. She slid into the passenger seat of Buck’s jeep and fixed him with a knowing look. “So. Tell me about this ‘hottest guy you’ve ever seen’.”
Buck could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he started to drive. “His name is Eddie. He was at my coffee shop this morning, being all broody and hot, and we talked a little bit before he had to go. He gave me his number and said he’d pick me up at six and to wear something nice.”
“You don’t even know where you’re going?” Maddie flopped back against the seat. “You are impossible.”
“I come to you for help, and all I get is judgement.” Buck stopped at a red light and turned to Maddie, putting on his best sad-puppydog face. “Pleeeease?”
“Oh my god, you’re pathetic.” Maddie smacked his arm. “Fine, just stop making that face.”
Buck chuckled to himself as the light turned green. “Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite big sister?”
“I’m your only big sister.”
“Same difference.”
Maddie shook her head but didn’t argue. Once they got to the store, she handed Buck his cane and followed him inside. “Alright, if you want me to help you, you have to give me full creative control.”
“I don’t know-”
“Full creative control, or I go back to work and I tell Athena you misused 9-1-1.”
“It was your personal phone-”
“Do we have a deal?” Maddie crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised.
Buck sighed, holding out his pinkie. “Deal.”
Agreement sealed, Maddie turned on her heel and started off toward the men’s section. “I will give you three choices,” she called over her shoulder, not bothering to check if her brother was following. “You have to pick one of them. I retain total control over all accessories, including shoes.”
“Do you want to pick my underwear, too?” Buck wasn’t as fast as he had been, but his long legs allowed him to almost match Maddie’s pace. Almost.
She stopped sharply at a display full of jeans, flipping through them with concerning speed. “That depends. Is he going to be seeing your underwear?”
Buck smirked. “That depends on how the night goes.”
“Ew!” Maddie threw a pair of jeans at him. “I don’t want to think about that!”
“You asked!”
“That doesn’t mean I want to think about it!” Maddie tossed a sweater at him, then a button up, then another pair of pants. “One more outfit, then we try them on and see what we’re working with.”
Buck sighed, balancing the pile of clothes on his left arm while he trailed after his sister. She added one more pair of pants and a polo shirt, then gestured at the fitting room. “Go try these on. And come out to show me, don’t just try them and take them off. I need to see how they look.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Buck locked the fitting room door behind himself and dumped the clothes onto the bench. He sat for a moment on a hard cube-shaped ‘chair’, just looking at himself in the mirror. He’d used to stare at himself all the time. He’d carefully build muscle, sculpt his body into the kind that dominated fireman calendars. That was before his leg had been crushed. Weeks in the hospital and still more recovering at home had changed that. He’d learned from one of his PTs that even a day of bedrest started to shrink muscle. Use it or lose it. He’d been doing PT since a few days after his surgery, and continued when he left the hospital, but the pain and weakness in his left leg was taking its toll. His right leg was stronger for compensation, his arms were bulking up from the wheelchair, then crutches and canes. Looking in the mirror now meant seeing all the ways his body had changed, shaping itself around the injury like a tree growing around a fence.
Buck let himself wallow for exactly one minute, then took a deep breath. “Alright,” he mumbled to himself. “You can do this.”
He slipped off his sweatpants and tugged on the jeans, only coming close to falling one time, which was a massive improvement. The jeans hugged his ass, which he liked, and flared a bit around his leg, which he wasn’t sure about. The button up that went with them was a light blue that made his eyes shimmer. He considered it in the mirror. It was nice, but not too formal, and it did make him look good, but it wasn’t stunning.
Maddie seemed to have the same idea when he walked out, gesturing for him to give a spin while she looked him over. Her nose scrunched. “It’s good, but it’s not great. Try the next one.”
Buck saluted her and went back in. The second outfit was fancier- slate grey slacks and a polo shirt with a subtle vine pattern, pale green on cream. Buck frowned at the man in the mirror. He looked like someone his father would do business with. Immediate no.
He still showed Maddie, because he knew not following her orders would end in a fate worse than a firetruck to a leg - and he was allowed to say that, because he’d lived it, thank you very much, Hen.
Maddie shook her head as soon as he stepped out. “Go back in. I don’t know what I was thinking with that one.”
Buck hesitated at the last outfit. He knew it was good. It wasn’t something he would have worn Before, but he wasn’t that Buck anymore. He was After Buck, Buck 2.0. Buck who had had his life completely demolished and was learning how to build it back, brick by brick.
He caught his own eyes in the mirror, and, for the first time since the accident, he saw himself. The real Buck, the one who had been inside him for so long. He let out a slow breath, then turned around and opened the door.
All the humor slipped from Maddie’s expression. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes went soft and misty like they had the first time she’d walked into his hospital room after surgery. She pressed a hand to her chest and stepped forward. “Oh, Evan.” She lightly touched the sleeve of the burnt orange sweater, perfectly fitted to hug the curve of Buck’s waist and the broad expanse of his shoulders. The pants were a chocolate colored corduroy, perfect for Buck to rub his thumb over to hold back the tornado of emotions that threatened to burst out of him at any moment. “This is… perfect. You look incredible. You look… happy.”
“I feel happy.”
“Good.” Maddie patted his cheek. “Get changed. It’s accessory time.”
Forty minutes later, Buck walked out into the sunshine, feeling like a changed man. He felt confident for the first time in a long time.
“So,” Maddie said carefully, watching the asphalt of the parking lot instead of Buck’s face. “Does he know that you’re…”
“He can see the cane, Mads.”
“That’s not what I meant. Does he know you’re a carrier?”
Buck scoffed. “Does it matter?”
“I mean… you should probably tell him. If you’re going to be… intimate… then it’s relevant.”
Buck shook his head, stopping at the jeep and opening the trunk to load his purchases. He hated telling people he was a carrier. It got one of two reactions: either people got way too excited, or they got disgusted. The excitement was flattering but uncomfortable. The disgust just reminded him of his parents. Nothing could be more disappointing than a son that didn’t live up to standards. Even if the world had gotten more progressive, Margaret and Philip Buckley had their expectations, and woe to anyone who fell short. Buck always fell short.
“It’s fine, Mads. He’ll figure it out eventually. We’ll use protection. Come on, you gotta get back to work.” Buck shut the trunk with a little more force than was strictly necessary.
“I’m sorry. I just want to look out for you.” Maddie touched his shoulder, but he pulled away.
“I know. Let’s just forget it, alright?”
Buck was anxious.
He never used to get anxious. He used to go on a date almost every night, wake up in a stranger’s bed every morning, get up, and go about his day like it meant nothing. He’d go just about anywhere for the sensation of falling asleep next to someone, even if he’d never see that someone again.
Usually, that wasn’t his decision. People just didn’t want him for more than a one night stand, and he was willing to take what he could get.
But tonight was different. Not just because Buck was different, although he certainly wasn’t the same person he’d been just a few months ago. No, tonight was different because of one Eddie Diaz.
Something about him just felt more than anything Buck had ever felt toward a hookup before. It was like a little pop up in his mind saying This one is important. Don’t fuck it up.
He was going to try his best not to.
Buck took a deep breath, forcing his shoulders to relax as he looked in the mirror. The sweater hugged his torso perfectly, the pants fit like a dream, and his hair was curling just like he wanted it to. The belt Maddie had picked out fit snugly on his waist, matching with the watch band on his left wrist. He looked good. Good enough for Eddie Diaz, the dark and broody stranger.
The devil in question rang his doorbell at that exact moment, making Buck nearly shatter his ceramic soap dish. “I’m coming!” he called, shoving his feet into shoes as fast as he could before grabbing his nice cane, one made of wood that looked more like an accessory than a medical device. He’d decided early on that if he was going to need mobility aids for the rest of his life, he was going to have fun with it.
The door opened to reveal the most breathtaking sight Buck had ever witnessed in his 28 years of life. Eddie Diaz himself stood on Buck’s porch in a forest green button down that accentuated his glorious arms and dark grey slacks that Buck just knew were hugging his jaw-dropping ass. His hair was gelled just a bit, but that one curl was loose on his forehead and his mustache was perfectly trimmed. Buck was pretty sure he was drooling just from looking at the man.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes sparkling playfully. “Well? Are you going to make me stand out here all night?”
Buck blushed vibrantly. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. I just… wow.” He shook his head. “You look incredible.”
Eddie’s laugh was deep and smooth. “I could say the same for you. Are you ready to go?”
“Absolutely.”
Eddie led him to the truck parked in the driveway, opening the passenger side door for him. “Do you need a hand up?”
“Nah.” Buck set his cane inside first, then grabbed the handle and used his good leg to pull himself up. “I’ve had some practice.”
“I can tell.” Eddie looked him over slowly, appreciatively, then closed the door.
The restaurant was downtown, a pricey Italian place that Buck had been coveting since it opened. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “This place is a little fancy for a first date, isn’t it?”
Eddie smirked like he’d been waiting for Buck to say that. “It’ll be great to come back for anniversaries, won’t it?”
Buck gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. “Anniversaries?”
“Well, I don’t know about you,” Eddie replied, leaning on the center console. “But I don’t really do one night stands. I’m a nester. I nest.”
Buck’s skin prickled with awareness of just how close the other man was. He was actively fighting the urge to climb over the console and sit in Eddie’s lap. “Nests,” he said breathlessly. “I love nests.”
Eddie squeezed his arm, then pulled away to hop out of the truck, leaving Buck dazed and aroused.
They made it inside without any incidents, although Buck was certainly training his self restraint, and got a table with an ocean view. The menus were trimmed in red leather and gold accents, there were real candles and embroidered napkins, and Buck was pretty sure he’d seen someone wearing a tiara as they passed by. He wondered if he should have gone with the more fancy outfit, if he was going to stick out and humiliate Eddie by being underdressed and-
A knee pressed against Buck’s under the table, warmth bleeding through the fabric. He lifted his head to see Eddie, eyes warm and smile soft. “I believe you owe me a story.”
Buck blinked, his eyes catching on Eddie’s lips. “A story?”
“You told me your name was Buck Buckley and that it was a long story,” Eddie reminded him. “I’d like to hear the story.”
“Oh. It’s kind of funny actually. My legal name is Evan, but when I joined the fire academy, there were three Evans. The instructor called us all by last name, and eventually Buckley got shortened to Buck. It worked really well, because I… I kind of changed a lot, joining the academy. I didn’t feel like the same person anymore. So I was called Buck, and it felt more like me. Now, everyone calls me Buck except for my sister. I don’t really mind, though, if it’s her.” Buck rubbed a hand over his own thigh, feeling the ridges of the corduroy against his palm.
“I like it. It suits you.” Eddie rested his elbows on the table. “I have two sisters, both younger than me. Sophia’s in college now, in Arizona, and Adriana’s still living with my parents.”
Buck laughed softly. “Maddie’s older than me, nearly ten years. She practically raised me.”
“Seems like she did a pretty good job.” Eddie’s knee tapped against his, and Buck couldn’t help but smile. “So, I’ve never been here before. I have no idea what the menu is like. Do you know what you’re getting?”
“Ooh, good question…”
Their conversation travelled from the menu items to cooking (Buck explained that Bobby had been teaching him, and Eddie admitted he’d once burned box mac ‘n cheese), to movies. Buck admitted that he hadn’t watched most movies, and Eddie was offended on behalf of movies in general. Buck just fluttered his eyelashes and said “maybe you can show me a few sometime,” and Eddie’s cheeks went a delightful shade of rose.
Eddie opened the wine list, turning it toward Buck. “Do you see anything you like? Within reason, of course. Not the $10,000 stuff, please.”
Buck bit his lip. “I, uh… I actually don’t drink. I stopped after my accident because of the painkillers, and then I just… never started again. It just doesn’t really appeal to me anymore.”
Eddie closed the wine list and set it aside. “Sounds good to me. I saw some really good looking juices on the menu. How do you feel about grapefruit?”
“I think it’s stupid. Grapes are a fruit already, what’s the point of calling something grapefruit?” Buck scoffed. “I’ll do the mango peach juice. At least those aren’t plagiarism fruits.”
“Plagiarism fruits.” Eddie snorted and shook his head. “You are something else, you know that?”
“I’ve been told a time or two.”
The food was delicious, the juice was incredible, and the dinner was over far too soon. Eddie grabbed the check before Buck could even look at it, signing with a flourish before standing and offering his hand. “Ready to go?”
Buck took Eddie’s hand with his free one, slotting their fingers together as they walked back to the truck. “So… what now?” he asked, feeling suddenly shy.
“Well…” Eddie paused at the truck, leaning against it. “I can drop you back home, kiss you on the cheek, and drive away, or…”
“Or?”
“Or… I come inside with you.” Eddie leaned in, warm breath ghosting along Buck’s jaw and making him shiver. Eddie was maybe an inch or two shorter than Buck, putting him at just the perfect height to tease.
“I think…” Buck swallowed, trying to make his mouth work. “I think you should come inside with me.”
“Good choice.”
July 8
Buck had woken up in a lot of beds. It wasn’t something he was proud of, per se, but it was a fact. He’d woken up in big hotel beds with stained sheets, in cramped twin beds, and once, memorably, in a tent with half a sleeping bag twisted around his waist.
Every time, he woke up, he got his clothes (if they were intact), and he got out. Then he would sit in his Jeep or Uber on his way home, and he would try to ignore the heavy weight in his chest and the emptiness of the seat beside him.
He blinked his eyes open slowly, taking in the sunlight flooding through his window. The pleasant ache in his hips reminded him of the night before, of Eddie. Buck turned over, ready to wake him up, but-
The other half of the bed was empty. Cold, like it had been a few hours. The sheet was slightly wrinkled, and there was a half empty bottle of water on the nightstand, but those were the only signs Eddie Diaz had ever been there.
For the first time in his long string of hookups, Buck wasn’t the one leaving. He was the one who had been left.