Is this out-of-context infidelity? Emotional infidelity? Pining Buck? A valid interpretation of canon that just gives Buck a bit more awareness than he actually has? It's a mixed bag. Enjoy š«¶
This little drawing is part of a birthday comic I posted on Instagram, if youād like to check it out: https://www.instagram.com/p/DaVIU2NjIgg/?igsh=cmQ3Znp0ejBnaW00
For @buckweek 2026, day 6 prompt: birthmark/ āactually, I go by Buck.ā
Rated T, 1,149 words. Buddie, different first meeting, unrealistic minor injury for the sake of the narrative.
The Jeep jolted as it collided with the old truck right behind it, throwing Buck forward against his seatbelt and slamming his head into the roof. The truck that definitely had not been there twenty seconds ago. Buck heard the squeal and crunch of metal on metal. āFuck!ā
He did not have time for this. His shift started in exactly forty-five minutes, and probies couldnāt be late. Which wouldnāt bother him too much, except heād already been late twice this week, and Bobby had threatened to have him scrubbing toilets until the end of time if it happened again.
A man leaned out the window of the truck, glaring at Buck. āWatch where youāre going!ā
āHow about YOU watch where YOUāRE going?ā
āYou hit my truck!ā
Technically true, but Buck couldnāt afford the insurance hike or the repairs for this, so he doubled down. āYou didnāt leave me any space! How do you think youāre gonna get my parking spot if you donāt let me get out of it, dumbass?āĀ
He got out of the Jeep, jabbing his hand between them to illustrate how far over the line this dudeās stupid truck was.
The guy jumped out in return, his movements surprisingly graceful. He flexed his fists like he was restraining himself from punching something, and the move made his muscular forearms bulge. āDumbass!? What are you, twelve?ā
But then the dumbass stopped suddenly, squinting at Buck and gesturing to the left side of his head. āHey, whatās that on your face?ā
Buck had heard that one more times than he could count. He didnāt even blink. āItās a birthmark.ā
āIt looks like youāre bleeding.ā
āVery funny, asshole. Youāve never seen a birthmark before?ā Of course this guy would be extra rude about his birthmark. People sometimes stared at his eyebrow like they were trying to crack a code, some even asked him about it, but they were usually polite at least. Most people ignored it completely. Not this jerk, apparently.
āNo, really, let me see. I was a medic in the Army.ā
āUh, no, you donāt have to-ā
But the guy wasnāt listening to Buck, already pulling a first aid kit out of his glove compartment and getting right up in his face. And- huh. He smelled good. Like cedar and sandalwood and sweat. Buck told himself to ignore it- he was angry, damnit. He was ignoring it so hard he didnāt notice what the man was doing until he felt cold antiseptic spray his face. āHey!ā
āHang on.ā The man was brandishing tweezers now.
āWait a second!ā
āHold still.ā A huge, strong hand gripped the side of Buckās head, spanning his cheek to his the base of his neck. Buck obeyed, breath catching as the man leaned in closer.
āOw!ā A zing of pain, and the man was holding a shard of glass in his tweezers. He pressed clean gauze to Buckās cheekbone.
āThere. Youāre lucky it didnāt get you in the eye.āĀ
The strangerās face, so angry before, broke into a small, sort of lopsided smile. Buck could see his blinding white teeth, one pointy canine poking over his lip. His soft, full lipā¦
Buck was aware they were still standing very close together. He suddenly felt a little short of breath. He could feel the heat radiating offĀ of the guy, and for some reason he wanted to lean into it.
Then he realized heād almost actually been injured in this little fender bender.
āWhat the hell- glass? Where did that come from? I didnāt hit you that hard!ā
āHa! So you admit you were the one who hit me?ā The guy gestured to Buckās hair. āItās plastic, actually.ā
Buck reached up and felt the jagged edge of his broken sunglasses. They must have hit the roof just right when he- when the cars collided.Ā
He smiled begrudgingly. āWell, thanks.ā
Maybe he was more injured than he thought. Maybe a shard of sunglass plastic had been driven into his frontal lobe, and that was the reason he felt this way. Buzzy, off-balance, impulsive.
āLet me just-ā The man brushed his fingers over Buckās cheek, whisper-soft. Before Buck knew what was happening, he had smoothed a bandaid over the small cut.
āYou can pay me back by fixing my bumper.ā
Crap, that might be tough. Buck hadnāt been a probationary firefighter long enough to have built up any kind of savings yet. āLook, is there any way we can handle thisā¦ between us? I canāt take another hit on my insurance.ā
The man studied his face with big brown eyes. Now that they werenāt flashing with anger, Buck could see the warmth in them, the playfulness.
āHmm, I can think of a couple ways we could handle it between us.ā The man smirked at Buck.
And that was- what?Ā
Buck bluescreened for a second. The guy still hadnāt stepped back. His hand was still lightly holding Buckās arm, making the hair there stand up, whole body electrified, on high alert.
āUh-ā He was caught, and they both knew it.
The man chuckled, like Buck was wrong for assuming his suggestion was anything but innocent. āI meant I know someone who owns a garage. He owes me a favor. I bet I could get the work done for a good price. Iāll text you with the quote?ā The words were benign, but that devilish smile still played on his face.
Screw it, Buck hadnāt considered being with a man before meeting this one, but heād always been open minded. If he was interpreting the vibe right, he was into it.
āYeah, sure. You better get my number, then. Let me see your phone.ā He plucked it out of the manās hand and typed in his info, then texted himself and handed it back.Ā
The guy held out his hand. āEddie Diaz.ā
āEvan Buckley, but actually I go by Buck.ā
The man- Eddie- lifted his eyebrows in a very endearing way. āBuck? Thatās funny, Iām training to be a firefighter and my instructorās always talking about this cadet named Buck who broke all the records last year. What a coincidence.ā
āWhat? Are you serious? Thatās me! I was- Iām a firefighter. Went through the academy last year.ā Buck could feel his cheeks heat.
Eddie looked him up and down in a show of feigned appreciation, but Buck could see through it. He was impressed. āWow, didnāt realize I was talking to a celebrity. No wonder youāre such a bad driver.ā
Buck shoved him with his shoulder, more as an excuse to touch him than anything else. āI was gonna offer to help you study, but if you donāt want me toā¦ā
Eddie grinned and nudged him back. āMaybe thereās something else you can help me with.āĀ
Then his lips were on Buckās, just as soft as heād imagined.
When Michael, Harry, and Bobby go on that camping trip in 3x13, Michael tells Bobby that Harry was named after his grandfather, Michael's dad, who died from a stroke before Harry was born. Michael and Athena promised that they would talk about his grandfather so Harry would know him without ever having met him. and Harry does.
so what im saying is. baby robert nash han grows up knowing bobby through his whole family. his honorary grandfather, through stories told by his dad, his mom, his uncles and aunts by blood and by bond, and Harry takes him to plant a tree and says this is how you know people. You listen to stories and you plant seeds in the forest. And you keep coming back to them so you never forget.
"I don't know what I was thinking. Eddie, what was I thinking?"
Eddie raised a finger and opened his mouth, about to speak.
"Don't say it! I know, I know. I wasn't thinking. I was feeling. It just seemed so unfair that Theo had perfectly attentive parents who are- who are gone now, and that he was so little and alone and it just felt so wrong."
Chris, leaning on his crutches in the hall, raised his eyebrows and turned to Eddie. They exchanged glances.
Buck's breathing picked up. "I'm not... I'm not cut out for this! I think rappelling down buildings is fun and sometimes forget to sleep because I'm on a stupid research rabbit hole and I'm pretty sure I never learned how to love-"
"Alright, I'm stopping you right there." Eddie rolled his eyes, walked behind Buck and pointedly closed the front door. The man had the decency to blush.
Chris made his way forward. "You're gonna be a great dad for Theo."
"That's, uh. Said with a lot of confidence, buddy."
Chris leaned into Buck in a way that he used to do more often when he was younger, which meant he wanted a hug. Buck, of course, acquiesced. Rested his chin on top of Chris' curls and resisted the strange urge to cry.
"Buck, you've been a great dad for me since I was seven."
Buck froze and blinked no less than eight times. It didn't stop the tears, embarrassingly.
Eddie, all soft and smiley, pressed his palms to their shoulders and guided them towards the living room.
"How about we put a documentary on, and talk about whatever's happened with Theo to get you so overwhelmed, hmm? Then we can pick him up from Maddie's, and take him as a family to the park. Maybe we can burn off some of that familiar energy of his."
I couldnāt stop thinking about how Theo and Chris look so much like Buck itās scaryā¦ so I wrote about it.
āāāā
Everyone can agree that this isnāt Eddieās fault. He was half asleep, delirious, and his eyes hadnāt finished thawing. So when he walks into the living room and sees three identical heads of golden brown curls, how is he supposed to know which is which? One is his son, one is his other son, and the last is his best friend / soulmate / coparent / whatever the fuck they are.
Like any sleep deprived individual that has barely retained brain function from the best sleep of his life, he stumbles forward and with eyes half closed places a kiss- dramatic mwuah and all- on each of their foreheads.
As has already been established, itās not Eddieās fault, so when the next things he registers is a giggling 4 year old, exasperated teenager, and a fumbling 35 year old man that has turned a shade of red rivaling a ladder truck, itās the last thing he expects at 7:45 on a Sunday morning.
His eyes are shot open when an absolute screech of joy erupts from Theo. Buck is spluttering all over himself, coffee covering his painfully white shirt and leaving what will likely be a nasty stain on the couch, and Chris is watching everything happen as he half-heartedly rubs the back of his hand over his forehead. Apparently, they were watching Sunday morning sitcoms, because a chorus of laughter pours out of the TV in perfect synchronicity with Buck lifting his head to look at Eddie with a face of pure bewilderment.
āMorning.ā The single word seems to be the wrong thing to say as Chris falls into barely contained laughter, Theo starts rolling on the floor, and Buckās eyes practically fall out of his head.
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