training wheels. // evan 'buck' buckley

xix. echoes of the past

the 118 firehouse was buzzing with the usual activity - hen was fixing something in the common area with chimney, bobby was cooking up something in the kitchen, and eddie and buck had just finished up with a workout. i had swung by the station after my shift at the call center, hoping to catch some of the team before they were called out again. it was starting to feel like my second home, and i wasn’t complaining.

“hey! look who decided to drop by!” buck’s voice rang out as soon as i stepped through the door. he had that familiar mischievous grin on his face, the one that always made me feel a little warmer.

“couldn’t resist the five-star cooking,” i replied, tossing my bag onto the couch as i made my way into the kitchen, where bobby was whipping up some sort of stir-fry. “what’s on the menu today, chef?”

“something edible,” bobby said, stirring the pan with exaggerated enthusiasm. “but you’re here just in time.”

eddie walked over, towel draped around his neck. “good timing. we just finished up in the gym. buck's convinced he’s faster than me on the treadmill now.”

“i am faster!” buck protested, shooting eddie a playful glare. “i just don’t feel the need to gloat about it.”

i chuckled, shaking my head as i leaned against the counter. it felt good to be around them, like slipping back into something comfortable. and for a while, everything felt easy. the banter, the jokes, the laughter - it was all part of the usual rhythm. but there was still an undercurrent, something just below the surface that had shifted between me and buck ever since that night, ever since i confessed my feelings.

buck leaned against the counter next to me, casually reaching for a glass of water. “remember that time we did that charity run?” he said, his voice laced with nostalgia. “you were convinced you could beat me.”

i raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “i did beat you. you were just too stubborn to admit it.”

“you wish.” he smirked, eyes sparkling. “things were different back then.”

the comment seemed innocent enough, but there was a weight to it - a subtle reminder of the change in the air between us. i felt the familiar tug of discomfort, but i forced a smile and brushed it off, quickly redirecting the conversation.

“speaking of runs, bobby,” i said, “you should’ve seen how buck nearly tripped over his own feet during the last one. classic.”

bobby laughed, the tension dissipating for a moment. “i believe it. guy’s got two left feet sometimes.”

but buck wasn’t letting up. every now and then, he’d drop a comment, a hint at our recent conversation - about how things had changed, about the unspoken feelings lingering between us. i deflected each time, steering the conversation back to safer topics, refusing to confront the elephant in the room.

it wasn’t just buck’s words that unsettled me. it was the way he looked at me sometimes, like he was trying to figure something out, trying to gauge what i was thinking. i could feel his eyes linger on me a little longer than usual, and it made my pulse quicken in a way i wasn’t ready to face.

after lunch, the group disbanded - hen and chimney headed out to run errands, eddie retreated to the bunk room for a nap, and i found myself alone with buck. he suggested a walk outside, and before i knew it, we were strolling around the firehouse parking lot, the afternoon sun warm on our backs.

“feels like old times, huh?” buck said, hands in his pockets as he glanced over at me. “just us, hanging out.”

“yeah,” i agreed, though the unease hadn’t left me. it did feel like old times, but it also didn’t. there was a new layer now, a complexity i wasn’t ready to unpack.