"Fire, Meet Medicine: Chapter 5" - E. Buckley
╔ Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader
☆ Word Count: 3.4k
☆ Category: Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, SOME Angst
☆ Summary: After everything you find yourself waking next to Buck. Your day is quickly filled and surrounded by Buck.
☆ Content: Mild emotional tension, hurt/comfort, fluff, romantic intimacy
╚ A/N: Life is giving me the ABSOLUTE worse run around. I've got some chapters lined up but please bare with me! Hopefully this chapter is better than the last and makes up for it. Anyway thanks for reading and I really hope you like it!
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The next morning, you woke up tangled in Buck.
Not metaphorically.
Physically.
One of his arms was wrapped around your waist so tightly it felt less like cuddling and more like a hostage situation.
You blinked slowly.
The room was still dark.
The digital clock on the nightstand read 5:42 AM.
Too early.
Far too early.
You shifted slightly.
Immediately, the arm around your waist tightened.
You froze.
Buck made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan and buried his face deeper into the back of your neck.
You stared at the wall.
"Good morning to you too." You whispered. Another groan came from Buck and you waited.
No response.
You waited some more.
Nothing.
You glanced over your shoulder.
Still asleep.
You rolled your eyes.
"Dramatic."
His grip tightened again.
Somehow.
You weren't entirely sure how that was physically possible.
A sleepy grumble escaped him.
"Don't go."
Your heart betrayed you immediately.
Because he wasn't really awake.
People said honest things when they weren't fully conscious.
You looked down at the hand resting against your stomach.
The same hand that had spent the last week being angry and finally finding peace. The same hand that had knocked on your apartment door last night looking like the world had chewed him up and spit him back out.
And now he was asleep.
Holding onto you like letting go wasn't an option.
Your expression softened.
"I'm literally trying to go to the bathroom." you whispered into nothing. A second later you finally heard him. Sleepy voice and all.
"No." He groaned.
You laughed.
Actually laughed.
For the first time in what felt like weeks.
"No?" You said in between giggles.
"No." You felt his nose drag against the back of your neck like he was shaking his head. Buck's voice was muffled against your shoulder. "Stay."
You twisted slightly so you could see him.
One eye was cracked open.
Barely.
"You realize that's not how human anatomy works, right?"
"Don't care."
"You'll care in about five minutes."
"Future Buck's problem." he shrugs and his grip tightens again. And you snort.
For the first time since Maddie had disappeared, Buck smiled.
Small. Sleepy. Real.
The kind that didn't have panic hiding behind it. The kind that belonged to the version of him you liked best. Not the firefighter. Not the hero.
Just Buck.
For a moment neither of you spoke. The apartment was quiet. No sirens. No hospital pages. No emergencies.
Just morning light slowly creeping through the curtains. Buck's fingers brushing absentmindedly against your side.
Then he asked the question so quietly you almost missed it.
"You're not mad anymore, right?"
You turned your head.
His eyes were open now.
Watching you carefully.
And suddenly he looked younger.
Not in age.
In vulnerability.
Like he genuinely needed the answer.
You reached up and brushed a hand through his messy hair.
"No."
Buck visibly relaxed.
"So we're okay?"
You smiled.
"We're okay."
Another pause. Then:
"Cool."
"Cool?"
"Yeah."
You narrowed your eyes.
"That's all I've been worried about for a week and your response is cool?"
Buck grinned.
"Yeah."
You shoved his shoulder.
He laughed.
The sound filling the room so easily that for a moment you forgot how hard the last few weeks had been. And maybe that was the point. Maybe healing wasn't one big moment. Maybe it was this.
A quiet morning.
A warm bed.
And a man who finally looked like he could breathe again. His arm stayed wrapped around you tightly. Just Buck, holding on like the world might disappear again if he didn’t.
You stayed for a second longer than you needed to. Then carefully peeled his arm off you after you heard a soft snore from him. He immediately rolled toward your warmth like a magnet losing its target.
You sat up.
Buck groaned into the pillow.
“Traitor.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Debatable.”
You stood anyway, stretching out the stiffness in your back.
From the doorway, you glanced back at him.
He was half buried in the blankets now, hair a mess, face relaxed in that way that it was before. The way you remember him being. Not fixed. Not fully healed. But… softer. Alive in a different way.
You left him there.
When you came back ten minutes later, he was still asleep—but turned toward your side of the bed like he’d refused to let go entirely. So you hopped back into bed with him. Found yourself grasping a couple more hours of sleep.
Your body couldn’t physically sleep past 10:15. So you grumbled about stupid internal clocks and shuffled your way to your kitchen. By the time he woke up properly, the apartment smelled like coffee.
Buck appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing nothing but sweatpants and confusion. And you tried to keep your eyes above his waist. Where his sweats were hanging dangerously low and his v-line was speaking to you in some unspoken code word, and-
“…Did you make coffee?” His voice is thunderous against your thoughts. You jump despite knowing he was there and clear your throat.
You didn’t look up from your phone pretending nothing was happening to you despite your thoughts. “No. It manifested.”
He squinted. “That sounds fake.”
“You also sleep like a koala, so I’m not taking scientific critiques from you.” Your eyes find his and you squint at him. He licks his lips before walking over and leaning on the counter beside you.
“Koalas are cute.”
“Koalas are violent.”
“That’s slander.”
You finally looked at him. Fully looked at him. His hair was still chaos. His eyes were clearer now though. More present.
“You okay?” you asked.
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Yeah.” A pause. Then softer: “I think I am.”
You studied him. That answer wasn’t perfect. But it was honest. That mattered more.
“Are you?” He moves from the counter and finds a mug in one of your cabinets. He pours himself some coffee and makes it to his liking before stepping towards you again. Hand circling your body to pull you flush against his side.
“Mmhm. Why do you ask?” You stop scrolling on your phone and look over at him. His eyes are fixed straight ahead and he’s taking gulps of coffee out of the mug.
“Seen the way you were looking at me.” He shrugs. You don’t even go back to your phone. Instead you lock it and place it down. “Figured I’d check in.” His eyes side eye you for a split second before you hear the slight sipping noise telling you he was done with his coffee.
“Hm.” Comes your response. His hand lets you go for a second as he places the mug in your sink. Then he’s fully behind you. Hands massaging your ass before gripping at your hips. Focusing on your hip bones which made your breath stutter ever so slightly.
“What’s going on in that head of yours huh? Awfully quiet right now.” He pushes into your body ever so slightly and you feel the growing bulge press against your ass. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound. Buck leans down and you feel his lips graze your ear. “Want me to fix it?”
Later that day, after what happened at your apartment, and you having to go to work, Buck insisted on going to the hospital.
Not because he had to.
Because he wanted to.
Which, for Buck, was still a developing concept.
He told himself it was to check in on Maddie and Chimney.
But in the back of his mind he truly knew he was going for you. Because he had just got you back and he wasn’t willing to lose you again.
He stopped with Chimney first. Checked up on him. Told him how the team was doing and then he helped him pack to be discharged. He walked him down to the doors where Hen picked him up.
Hen handed Buck a bag and gave him a hug.
“That’s for our doctor. Cap figured you’d be here and sent me with some food.” Hen grabs Buck and pulls him into a hug before pulling back and grabbing Chim’s bag. “Glad you guys are good again.”
Then he turned and headed to see Maddie. She was being held for a little longer due to her wounds but she was looking better everyday.
“Hey little bro!” Her voice hits his ears before he sees her. He places the food Hen handed him off to the side and curves around Maddie's bed to give her a hug.
“Hey mads.” He says squeezing her. She squeezes back before reaching for the remote to change the channel.
“You okay?” She asks like she knows more than she does and Buck almost wants to question her. But he doesn't. Instead he shrugs and clears his throat.
“Im good.” He deflects quickly. Maddie looks over at him for a split second before she nods. Then, Buck speaks again: “Want some company for a bit?”
Maddie nods before they break into soft conversation. Talking about nothing and everything all at once. Later, you found him in the hallway outside the ER waiting area, awkwardly holding a bag. Unbeknownst to you, it was your lunch. Your very late lunch.
“What is that?” you asked.
“Food.” He answered simply.
“Okay…” You look around before looking at him again. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s food I stole—”
“You stole?”
“Was given,” he corrected quickly. “From Hen. She said I should bring you lunch.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“That feels like a setup.”
“It’s not.” He shakes his head and you grab the bag from him. You make a move down the corridor and he follows like a lost puppy. “I don't think…”
“Buck.” You warn.
“I swear it’s not.” He fisxes it quickly and you look over your shoulder. He smiles softly before you guys make your way to the lunch hall.
You take a look in the bag anyway. Inside: Cap’s famous pasta, some garlic bread and two pieces of cake. There’s a final thing, a note in Hen’s handwriting that very clearly said don’t let him forget to feed himself either.
You sighed. And then you found a table, sat down and split your very late lunch with your not so very boyfriend. And Buck just sits there with a goofy smile on his face. Digging into the lunch you shared. Talking aimlessly about everything and nothing.
A couple of days pass and you're back to working the grueling shifts. overnights, 14 hour shifts, the ones nobody else wanted. The locker room was quieter than the rest of the hospital, but never truly quiet. Lockers clinking shut. Shoes scuffing against tile. The low hum of people decompressing after long shifts—shoulders dropping, voices loosening, exhaustion finally catching up now that they didn’t have to hold it together anymore.
You were sitting on the bench, pulling off your ID badge, rolling your shoulders like it might fix something deeper than muscle tension. You don’t realize how much tension you’ve been carrying in your shoulders until your shift finally ends.
One shoe already off. The other halfway there.
That’s when you noticed him.
Dr. Hayes.
He had just made his way into room when he caught a glimpse of you. He straightened when he saw you. “Hey.”
You paused, then continued untying your shoe. “Hey.”
A beat. Then he gestured lightly toward you. “Rough shift?”
You let out a short breath that could’ve been a laugh if you had more energy for it. “Do we ever have anything else?”
That made him smile. He stepped a little closer—but not too close. Careful. Practiced, even if he didn’t realize it.
“True,” he said. Then, after a pause, like he’d been waiting for the right moment all day, “Hey, a couple of us are grabbing food after this. Nothing crazy. Just tacos, honestly. You should come.”
You stopped what you were doing. Not dramatically. Just enough. You looked up at him fully now. There it was again. The assumption.
Not aggressive. Not pushy.
Just…hopeful in a way that didn’t quite read the room.
You tilted your head slightly. “You’re asking me to dinner after a 14-hour shift in a trauma center?”
He shrugged, like that was normal. “Yeah. I mean, we all need to eat.”
A beat. You went back to your shoe, slower this time.
“I’m going home,” you said simply.
“Oh,” he said, a little too fast. Then, he tried to recover it with a smile. “Yeah, of course. Another time then?”
You finally stood up. Your converses were fully on your feet now. Laced up and everything.
That made him straighten a little too, like he thought maybe that meant something different.
You shook your head once. “No, I don’t think so.”
The air changed immediately. Not uncomfortable. Just…corrected.
He blinked. “Oh. I just thought we had a good vibe at work.”
You nodded once, calm. “We do. That’s why I want to keep it that way.”
That landed. You saw it.
The moment it clicked that this wasn’t hesitation—it was a boundary.
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
“It’s not weird,” you said, softer now. “You’re fine. I just don’t mix work and personal stuff.” You shrug it off and sit back down to grab the rest of your things.
Then, lightly—trying to salvage his pride: “Fair enough. I’ll survive the heartbreak.”
That earned a quiet huff of a laugh from you despite yourself. “I’m sure you’ll recover.”
He stepped back, hands up slightly like he was officially backing off. “No hard feelings.”
“None.” you say with a smile. And then he was gone—folding back into the rhythm of the locker room, grabbing his things, disappearing into the noise like it never happened.
You grabbed everything you needed from your locker and rolled your shoulders again. And stood for a final time. Your phone buzzed as you left the locker room.
Buckley: you on your way out?
You stared at it for half a second longer than you meant to.
Then typed: yeah. finally.
And somehow, that felt easier than the whole conversation you just had.
Buckley: Come with me.
That makes you pause.
Not in a bad way. Just…in a Buck way. Where nothing is ever simple, but somehow still feels safe enough to say yes to.
You: Where?
Three dots appear. Disappear.
Buckley: Maddie’s.
That lands differently.
You stand there for a second, thumb hovering.
You haven’t really met Maddie. Nor have you seen her, not since everything. Not properly. Not outside of hospital hallways or check ups or rushed updates from Buck.
You: Is she okay?
Buckley: Yeah. She’s home. I just- I don’t want to go alone today.
There it is.
Honest. Unpolished. Very him.
You don’t overthink it after that.
You: I’ll meet you there.
The drive there feels quieter than it should.
You don’t bother to turn on music. Part of you is too scared to. You know logically that you’re walking into something harmless, but realistically you’re petrified.
About meeting his sister mostly but also about what this means for your relationship.
Buck is leaning against his jeep when you pull up, hands in his pockets, hair still slightly messy like he ran his hand through it one too many times before you got there. When he sees your car, his face softens in a way that still catches you off guard sometimes.
“Hey,” he says when you get out.
“Hey,” you answer.
There’s a pause where neither of you moves right away.
Then he nods toward the house. “She just got home today.”
You nod too. “I know. I released her Buck.”
“Oh right. Shit.” You breathe in a sigh and then you both laugh it off. Another pause. Then Buck exhales like he’s been holding something in all day.
“Thank you for coming. I just didn't want to be alone.”
You glance at him. “You didn’t have to ask twice.”
That earns a small, tired smile.
Inside, Maddie looks like someone coming back into herself slowly. Still fragile in places, still quieter than she probably used to be, but present. Real. She smiles when she sees you—small but genuine. SHe offers you food, drinks, something to lighten the mood but you just turn her down and you all opt for sitting and chatting.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says. “Outside of the hospital I mean.”
You raise an eyebrow slightly and turn your head towards Buck. “That sounds dangerous.”
Buck groans immediately. “Maddie.”
“What?” she shrugs, smiling a little more now. “It’s true.”
And something about that—about her teasing, about Buck relaxing just slightly beside her—makes your chest feel less tight than it has in weeks.
So you stay for a while. Long enough for the conversation to stop feeling careful. Long enough for Maddie to drift off in the middle of a sentence, head tilted against the couch cushion, exhaustion finally winning.
And that’s when Buck finally leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t realize how tired I was until I stopped moving,” he mutters.
You hum softly. “That’s usually how it works.”
He looks over at you then.
Not in a casual way.
In a thinking way.
Like something’s been sitting in his head for a while and he’s only just now deciding to say it.
“Alright Maddie,” he says. He stands and so does Maddie. “We’re gonna head out. Get some sleep.”
She blinks slowly and walks you both to the door. “Okay. Good night. Love you.”
“Love you more. Lock the door.” He says it like a big brother. Not like he’s younger than Maddie. Not like he’s the baby. Then you’re at your car. Body leaned against it, Buck’s covering yours blocking you from the night air.
He’s silent again. Staring at you. Through you rather. Thinking again.
He nods once, like he needed confirmation. “What are we?”
That hits clean.
Not dramatic. Not loud.
Just… direct.
You blink at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean—are you my girlfriend? Am I your boyfriend? Are we just… whatever this is that shows up at each other’s lives and pretends it’s casual until it isn’t?”
There’s no panic in his voice.
Just honesty.
And a little fear underneath it that he’s trying very hard not to show.
You stare at him for a second longer than necessary.
Then let out a breath through your nose.
"You picked a really quiet night to have this conversation, Buckley.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah. I noticed that too.”
You lean back slightly, thinking—not because you don’t know the answer, but because saying it out loud suddenly makes it real in a way texts never did.
“You’ve been acting like my boyfriend for a while now,” you say finally.
His eyes lift immediately.
“But,” you add, “you also disappear when life gets messy, and then come back like nothing happened.”
That lands. And you hear his breathing stutter for a second. His expression shifts slightly. Not defensive. Just aware.
“I know,” he says quietly.
You tilt your head. “So what are we, Buck?”
He doesn’t hesitate this time.
“I want to be your boyfriend.”
Simple. Clear. No games.
That sits in the air between you for a moment.
Then you nod once. “Okay.”
That’s it. No speech. No buildup. Just acceptance.
Buck blinks like he wasn’t expecting it to be that easy. “That’s it?” he asks.
You shrug. “Did you want a presentation?”
He laughs, real this time.
“No. I just—” He stops, shaking his head slightly. “Okay.”
Then, softer: “So I’m your boyfriend.”
You nod again. “Yeah.”
He steps back like something has finally settled inside him. Like everything just settled into place. And for the first time in a long time, he looks like he can breathe normally.
“Can I come back to your place then?” He asks when he fully steps back as you reach for your door handle.
“For what exactly?” you ask. You open your car door and watch him quietly. He shuffles on his feet for a second before twisting and clearing his throat.
“To spend time with my girlfriend.” He says the girlfriend part slowly. You hear the full word roll of his tongue. It makes your heart flip for a few seconds before it settles. You pretend to think about it for a bit. And then you hop in your car, start it, and roll down your window.
“You know where to park.” is the last thing you say before you smile, blow him a kiss, and pull off.
In your rearview you see him standing there for a second.
Looking into the night sky.
Then, he gets into his jeep, starts it, and makes a U-Turn to follow you home. To follow his girlfriend home.
