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From the group Are We Dating the Same Person? (Los Angeles Edition)
Amber R.
So… is anyone else dating this guy? Tall, firefighter, blue eyes, curls. Always says he has to “get home to his kid.” Pretty sure he’s married. 🥴
(attached: blurry patio photo of Buck laughing, curls shining under string lights)Kelsey M.
YES. Went out with him once. Wouldn’t stay the night because he had to be up early for “appointments.” 🚩🚩🚩Marina L.
Okay but same?? He literally canceled on me for a school project. Said he was helping with “the solar system.” Bruh. 🚩🚩🚩Tanya J.
I saw him at Target buying Goldfish crackers and yogurt pouches. No single man does that. Protect the spouse. 🛑Jay P.
LOL wow. Same guy asked me to grab tacos after my shift. Super charming, kissed me outside the restaurant, then bolted because he had to “drop off groceries.” I thought he was brushing me off. Guess he was rushing home to his husband.DeShawn M.
Can confirm. Met him at Griffith Observatory, had a great night, then he legit LEFT because “his boy” had homework. I thought it was an excuse. Now? Yeah, that tracks.
The kitchen was loud when Eddie walked in—Hen stirring sugar into her coffee, Chim and Ravi in some ridiculous argument about which superhero could bench press the most, Buck already perched at the counter with a plate of pancakes. Just another shift change.
Eddie poured himself coffee, leaning against the counter like he had all the time in the world.
Then Ravi cleared his throat like a man about to deliver a sermon. “Gentlemen. Ladies. Distinguished Captain.” Bobby barely glanced up from the stove. “We have a situation.”
Buck froze mid-bite. “What situation?”
Ravi grinned, pulling out his phone. “Oh, nothing major. Just that our very own Evan Buckley is apparently a married man with a secret family. Facebook says so, so it must be true.”
The room went still for half a beat, then chaos.
Hen nearly spit her coffee back into her mug. Chim barked out a laugh. Buck blinked like he’d been slapped.
“What?!” Buck demanded.
Chim leaned forward like he’d smelled blood in the water. “What did you do?”
Ravi tapped his screen. “Yup. You’re blowing up in the group Are We Dating the Same Person? It’s like Yelp for questionable men, and my dude—” He turned the phone around for everyone to see. “You are trending.”
The post at the top had Buck’s picture—grainy, clearly snapped from across a restaurant patio. Blue eyes, messy curls, that stupid smile Eddie pretended not to catalog every time he saw it.
‘Anyone else gone out with this guy? Super sweet, tall firefighter, always rushing off because of “family stuff.” Pretty sure he’s married. He called a kid “his boy” on our date and left early to drop off a lunch at school.’
Hen cackled. “Oh my god.”
Ravi scrolled. “Oh, it gets better.”
‘YES, same guy! Wouldn’t stay the night, said he had to be up early for his kid’s appointment. Definitely married.’
‘He texted me during dinner—Don’t worry, I’ll stop for groceries on the way home. Who says that unless they’ve got a family waiting?’
‘I saw him at Target buying Goldfish crackers and yogurt pouches. No single man does that. Protect the spouse.’
Attached: another blurry photo. Buck with grocery bags in one hand, the other ruffling Christopher’s hair as they crossed the parking lot.
Eddie was biting back a smile. He knew exactly which Target run that had been—Buck insisting on taking Chris because Eddie had been wiped from a double shift. He’d come home to his kid grinning ear to ear and Buck proudly unpacking groceries like he’d conquered Rome.
Buck made a strangled sound. “Oh, come on!”
Chim pounded the table, tears in his eyes from laughing. “You’re suburban Facebook-famous, man.”
Eddie was looking over at Buck, and, sure, Buck wasn’t technically married. But from the outside? From the angle of a stranger’s camera lens? He looked exactly like what Eddie sometimes forgot he wasn’t. Chris’s other parent. Eddie’s partner in everything but name.
The truth was, he could kind of see it. From the outside, Buck did look like somebody’s husband. Looked like Chris’s dad, if Eddie was being honest.
What surprised him was how much he didn’t mind people assuming.
He’d never let himself go there before—not really—but the picture of Buck in a hoodie with grocery bags and Chris at his side? Eddie didn’t hate it. In fact, he found himself looking at Buck a little differently.
Like maybe all those strangers weren’t so far off.
Buck was flushed red, hands flailing. “I swear, I didn’t—look, I go on a couple of dates, and suddenly I’m a serial cheater? I was just helping Eddie with Chris! What was I supposed to say, sorry, I can’t leave, my best friend’s kid needs me? That sounds weird too!”
Everyone stared at him.
Hen arched an eyebrow. “So just to be clear… you’re not married?”
Buck groaned. “No! Not technically.”
Chim's eyebrows shot up. “Do we need to call your wife, Buckley? Give her our condolences?”
Ravi was already typing on his phone. “I’m updating the thread: Confirmed, the firefighter is in denial about his wife.”
Buck groaned, burying his face in his hands. “That’s not what I meant!”
Eddie leaned back in his chair, slow smile tugging at his mouth. He shouldn’t have enjoyed this. He really shouldn’t. But watching Buck flail, watching him get red in the face, hearing him stumble over words? Eddie couldn’t help it.
Eddie chuckled into his mug. “Not technically, huh?”
Buck shot him a look, and Eddie just smirked. He was enjoying this way too much.
“I just meant—me and Eddie—we’re not—” He cut himself off, eyes wide like he’d almost said too much.
The table exploded.
Chim fell sideways against Ravi. Hen nearly spit coffee across the counter. Even Bobby, still at the stove, muttered a quiet, “Lord help us.”
Eddie chuckled, sipping his coffee like this was the best show he’d seen in years. “You know, Buck, usually the answer’s just yes or no.”
“I know!” Buck was practically shrieking. “But it’s complicated!”
Hen pounced. “Complicated how?”
Buck groaned. “Because! It just is! I—” He gestured wildly, then gave up. “Oh my god, forget it.”
Eddie couldn’t resist leaning in, lowering his voice just enough that only Buck caught it. “Sounds like you’re making a confession there, partner.”
Buck blinked at him, eyes wide, pink creeping up his cheeks. For once, he didn’t have a comeback.
Eddie smirked into his mug, warmth curling low in his chest. He’d expected to be embarrassed by all of this, maybe defensive. Instead, he found himself… entertained. And maybe, just maybe, interested in where Buck’s little slip-ups were leading.
The firehouse had finally gone quiet after forty-eight hours of chaos—calls, alarms, too much coffee, too little sleep. The kind of shift that left everyone hollowed out, eyes heavy, desperate to get home.
The laughter from the kitchen still echoed faintly down the hall as Eddie pushed open the locker room door. Soap, metal, and old coffee clung to the air. Buck was already there, shoving gear into his bag, slamming his locker shut like he could trap the entire internet inside it.
Eddie leaned against the bench, arms folded, too tired to bother hiding his amusement. “Rough day?”
Buck groaned, dragging a hand through his curls. “Try rough forty-eight hours. I swear, if Ravi brings up Facebook one more time—” He cut himself off with another groan, burying his face in his hands.
Buck groaned, dragging both hands through his curls. “I cannot believe this is happening. A whole Facebook group thinks I’m some lying cheater dad. I mean—me! Of all people!”
Eddie let his mouth curl into the smallest of smirks. “Well… you did say you’re not married. Not technically.”
Buck froze, shoulders tense. “Eddie.”
“What?” Eddie lifted his brows, all mock-innocence. “That’s what you said. ‘Not technically.’”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Buck’s voice was sharp, defensive, but his cheeks were pink. “I meant—look, I just… it’s complicated. People see me with Chris, with you, and they assume things.”
Eddie tilted his head, studying him. “And you don’t think that’s funny?”
“Funny?!” Buck flailed. “Everyone thinks I’m sneaking around behind my imaginary spouse’s back—”
“Not everyone.” Eddie cut in, tone steady. “Some of them just… saw what’s there.”
Buck blinked at him, caught off guard.
Eddie stepped closer, enough to feel the edge of Buck’s nervous energy crackle in the air. He wasn’t spiraling. He wasn’t ashamed. He was just… curious. And for once, he wanted to poke at the thing sitting between them instead of pretending it wasn’t there.
“So tell me,” Eddie said, low, amused, “what exactly makes it ‘not technically’? Sounds like you almost said something back there.”
Buck’s mouth opened. Closed. He swallowed hard, throat working. “I—uh—”
Eddie waited, calm, letting the silence stretch. Enjoying how flustered Buck got under the weight of it.
Finally, Buck muttered, “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Maybe,” Eddie admitted, smiling. “But you didn’t answer the question.”
Eddie leaned against the row of lockers, arms folded. He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched. Watched the way Buck’s curls fell into his face, the way his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for another round of laughter.
Finally, Eddie said, voice even, “You realize the reason they think that, right?”
Buck froze, glancing over. “Think what?”
“That you’re married. That you’ve got a kid at home.” Eddie let the corner of his mouth curl, amused but steady. “You basically live at my house.”
Buck’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. “I know! But I’m not going to stop being there for you. For Chris.” His hands were moving as he talked, urgent, like he was pleading his case. “That’s—he’s—Chris is my family too, Eddie. You are.”
Something in Eddie’s chest clenched and softened all at once. He should’ve let it go. Should’ve deflected like he always did. But the words slipped out before he could stop them. “I don’t want you to stop.”
The silence after that was heavy. Buck stilled, eyes wide, lips parted like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard right.
Eddie swallowed, heat creeping up his neck. “…Maybe we should just let them think it’s true.”
Buck went very still. His face shifted—shock, disbelief, and then something else. Something raw and devastatingly hopeful.
“Eddie…” Buck’s voice was quiet, wrecked in a way Eddie had never heard before.
Eddie pushed off the lockers, brushing past like the conversation hadn’t just shifted the ground under them. “Come on. You eaten yet?”
Buck blinked. “What?”
“Burgers. Beers. My treat.” Eddie tossed him a look over his shoulder, just enough of a grin to make it clear he wasn’t asking.
The burger joint was busy but not loud enough to drown out Buck’s laugh. Eddie had picked the place because it was close, cheap, and Chris was at a friend’s, which meant—for once—he didn’t have to be Dad tonight. Just Eddie.
He set down two beers, slid a basket of fries across the table. “Don’t say I don’t know you.”
Buck grinned, wide and boyish. “You remembered the extra pickles?”
“Of course.” Eddie smirked. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t?”
Buck froze mid-reach, eyes snapping up, cheeks pink. Eddie just took a long pull from his beer, enjoying the way Buck fumbled for words.
“That’s not—” Buck laughed, shaking his head. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” Eddie leaned back in the booth, pretending to study the ceiling. “You nag me about groceries, you fix my sink, you make pancakes for my kid. Pretty sure that checks the boxes.”
Buck’s laugh softened, shoulders easing like he’d been waiting to exhale all night. He tilted his head, eyes flicking to Eddie’s mouth for just a second too long.
“Careful, Eddie,” Buck said, voice low and teasing. “You’re starting to sound serious.”
Eddie let his smirk spread, heat curling low in his chest. “Maybe I am.”
Their fries kept disappearing back and forth across the table, fingers brushing in the basket more than once. Neither of them pulled away.
Buck was the one to break first, smirking as he stole the last fry. “If we’re married, does that mean I get the bigger half of the bed?”
Eddie snorted. “You already take it.”
“You let me!”
Eddie raised a brow, gaze lingering a little too long. “Maybe I don’t mind.”
The air between them shifted, light but charged, fizzing like an open beer can. Buck’s knee brushed Eddie’s under the table, and this time, neither of them moved away.
Eddie tipped back the last of his beer, letting the bottle clink onto the table. Buck was still licking salt off his fingers from the fries, grinning like the world wasn’t watching them through greasy diner windows.
“So,” Eddie said, tone easy, “how many of them was it?”
Buck blinked. “What?”
Eddie’s smirk tugged wider. “Dates. All those poor women on Facebook crying about their mysterious firefighter with a family at home. How many hearts did you break, Buckley?”
Buck groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting.” Eddie leaned in, voice low and amused. “I mean, you’ve been busy, right? Running around town, cooking pancakes, sneaking out early… sounds exhausting.”
Buck peeked through his fingers, cheeks pink, eyes bright. “I was just—looking. That’s all.”
“For what?” Eddie asked, genuinely curious now. “Another Target run partner? Someone to share your groceries with?”
Buck huffed out a laugh. “Maybe.”
Eddie let his gaze linger, heavy now, the corner of his mouth curving slow. “Or maybe you just like playing house.”
Buck went still, laughter dying in his throat. His knee brushed Eddie’s again under the table, deliberate this time.
“You think I’m just… playing?” Buck asked, voice low, almost challenging.
Eddie held his stare, the heat between them sparking. “I think you’re practicing.” He let the words hang, leaned back in his seat, smirk tugging at his mouth. “And you’re not half bad at it.”
Buck’s breath caught, his face wrecked in a way Eddie found he liked a little too much.
“Eddie…”
Eddie just chuckled, stealing the last pickle off Buck’s plate like it was nothing. “Relax, I’m only teasing.” But the weight of it stayed, humming between them, thicker than the air in the greasy diner.
Eddie waved the server over for another round, sliding a fresh bottle across to Buck. “You’ll need it,” he teased. “Keep up.”
Buck raised his brows. “Oh, so it’s a competition now?”
Eddie smirked, leaning back in the booth. “Everything’s a competition with you.”
Buck twisted off the cap, took a long swig, then set the bottle down with a thunk. His grin was reckless now, shoulders loose, eyes bright in the neon glow. “You challenge me, I win. Every time.”
Eddie chuckled, slow and low, enjoying the confidence. “Pretty sure I’ve beaten you more than once.”
“Not where it counts.” Buck’s voice dropped, suggestive, just enough heat under the words to make Eddie’s pulse jump.
For a second, Eddie just looked at him—the curls falling into his eyes, the cocky tilt of his smile, the way his knee pressed firmer into Eddie’s under the table like a dare.
Eddie leaned in, elbows on the table, voice dropping just enough to make Buck’s grin falter. “Careful, Buck. I might call your bluff.”
Buck’s breath caught, bravado cracking, eyes going wide like he hadn’t expected Eddie to go there. His lips parted, wrecked and hopeful all at once.
Eddie held the stare for a beat longer, savoring the silence, then leaned back slow, grabbing a fry like nothing had happened. “Finish your beer.”
Buck groaned, burying his face in his hands, but Eddie could see the grin spreading, helpless and bright.
And under the table, their knees stayed pressed together.
By the time the beer bottles had been cleared and the tequila appeared—cheap, sharp, served with lime wedges that Buck immediately stole half of—the booth felt like their own little world.
Eddie licked salt off his hand, tossed back the shot, and hissed at the burn. Buck was watching him, mouth curved like he’d already won something.
“What?” Eddie asked, reaching for his lime.
“You don’t usually drink like this with me,” Buck said, voice lower now, edged with something heavier.
Eddie smirked, biting down on the wedge, juice running sharp over his tongue. “Maybe you’ve never asked right.”
Buck’s laugh was wrecked, soft. He leaned in across the table, elbows braced like he couldn’t hold himself back. “Do you want me to ask?”
Eddie arched a brow, letting the lime wedge drop back into the glass. “Maybe.”
Eddie didn’t look away. He let the silence stretch, let Buck squirm just enough. Then he let his knee press harder under the table, deliberate this time.
Buck’s mouth fell open a little, caught between a laugh and something needier. He dragged a hand down his face, muttering, “Don' tempt me.”
Eddie chuckled, low and rough. “You're buying the next round.”
The tequila burned, but Eddie barely noticed anymore. The booth was too warm, Buck too close, their knees pressed so tight Eddie wasn’t sure who had moved first.
Buck licked salt from his wrist, tossed back his shot, and leaned in across the table, grin crooked. “You know, if we were married, we wouldn’t bother with two beds.”
Eddie snorted, wiping lime juice from his thumb. “We don’t bother with two beds now.”
That shut Buck up for half a second. His eyes went wide, then bright, laughter spilling out, low and wrecked. “That’s different.”
Eddie tipped his head, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Is it?”
Buck’s grin turned sharp again. “Yeah. Because if we were married, I wouldn’t just fall asleep next to you. I’d make sure you didn’t get much sleep at all.”
The words hit like heat straight to Eddie’s gut. He let the silence stretch, let Buck squirm under it, then leaned back in the booth, casual, dangerous. “Big talk, Buckley. Considering half the time you’re out before Chris finishes brushing his teeth.”
Buck groaned, dragging his hands over his face, but Eddie could see the grin hiding there. “Come on, you really think I’d be that boring?”
“Not boring.” Eddie licked salt from his hand slow, deliberate, eyes on Buck the whole time. “Predictable.”
Buck’s breath hitched, his grin faltering into something wrecked. He opened his mouth like he wanted to fire back, then shut it again, swallowing hard. For once, Buck Buckley didn’t have words.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Heavy. Charged enough that Eddie could feel it buzzing under his skin.
Buck dragged his hand down his face, muttering, “You’re gonna kill me.”
Eddie smirked, reaching for the last fry and popping it into his mouth. “Not tonight.” He leaned back, casual.
They flagged the server, tossing cash onto the tray with hands that lingered a little too close. Neither of them mentioned the way their knees stayed pressed together until they slid out of the booth and walked outside.
Eddie tugged his jacket tighter, phone in hand as he tapped through the app. “Uber’ll be five minutes,” he said, voice steady.
Beside him, Buck swayed a little on his feet, not drunk enough to be sloppy, just loose enough that his smile wouldn’t quit. “Good. Gives me time.”
Eddie glanced over. “Time for what?”
Buck grinned, teeth catching the glow of the streetlight. “To prove I don’t bluff.”
Eddie’s chest went tight, heat licking down his spine. He should’ve laughed it off, made some crack about tequila talking. But Buck was right there, curls a mess, eyes bright and wrecked and hopeful.
“You keep pushing, you’re gonna get exactly what you want.” Eddie murmured, voice low.
Buck swallowed, his grin wobbling into something raw. “And if that’s you?”
The words stole the breath out of Eddie’s lungs. For a second, everything stilled—the traffic, the neon, the noise in his own head. Just Buck, right there, waiting.
Eddie didn’t think. He stepped in, one hand curling into Buck’s shirt, tugging him down into a kiss that was messy and hot and far too late. Buck made a sound—half laugh, half groan—and kissed him back like he’d been waiting forever.
It wasn’t graceful. Tequila on their tongues, teeth knocking, the sidewalk under their boots. But Buck’s hands found Eddie’s hips, Eddie pressed closer, and the world fell away.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Buck’s forehead dropped to Eddie’s. His voice was wrecked, soft. “Guess Facebook was right.”
Eddie chuckled, lips still brushing his. “Yeah. Guess so.”
The Uber pulled up to the curb, headlights flashing. Eddie kept his hand fisted in Buck’s shirt a second longer, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Come on, husband. Let’s go home.”
The Uber ride home was a blur—warmth pressed thigh to thigh, stolen glances that felt heavier now that they’d crossed the line.
The next morning, though, Ravi came striding into the kitchen like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.
“Ladies. Gentlemen. Married men of the house,” Ravi announced, phone held aloft like the Word of God. “We have an update.”
Buck, halfway through pouring coffee, froze. Eddie just raised his brows, sipping his own.
Ravi grinned, scrolling. “Direct from Are We Dating the Same Person? ‘UPDATE: He IS married. Saw him last night, all over his husband outside a burger joint. They were kissing on the sidewalk, calling each other husband. Poor spouse deserves better.’”
Hen choked on her cereal. Chim screeched. Bobby muttered something about divine patience and walked out.
Buck went bright red. “Oh my god—”
Ravi shoved the phone toward the table. The blurry photo was unmistakable: two figures tangled on the sidewalk, streetlight haloing them, one hand fisted in the other’s shirt. Grainy as hell, but anyone who knew them would recognize the two of them.
Chim howled. “BUCKLEY! DIAZ! THE FACEBOOK WIVES’ CLUB HAS SPOKEN!”
Hen was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. “They overheard you call each other husband?”
Buck groaned, face in his hands. “We were joking—”
“Sure,” Ravi said, smug as hell. “Joking. While making out on Main Street.”
Eddie leaned back in his chair, smirk tugging at his mouth, calm as ever. “Well,” he said, sipping his coffee, “guess we’re official now.”
Buck’s head snapped toward him, startled. Eddie winked and kissed Buck on the lips before walking away to get started on his shift. And that was when Buck completely lost the ability to form words.
From the group Are We Dating the Same Person? (Los Angeles Edition)
Lexi P.
UPDATE: HE IS MARRIED. Saw him outside a burger joint last night, kissing his husband on the sidewalk. Overheard them call each other husband. Blurry pic attached.
(attached: streetlight-blurred photo of Buck & Eddie kissing, Eddie’s hand fisted in Buck’s shirt)
Caroline H.
Honestly? Respect. He looked happy. 🥺
Vanessa G.
Okay but now I’m invested in the husband. Where’s HIS profile??