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you want to want me but you can’t let go - ch. 1

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It starts as a pretty normal shift, which should’ve been his first warning.

They’re just wrapping up their third call of the day—a small fire at an upscale health and fertility clinic. By the time they arrive things are pretty much handled. The sprinkler system has taken care of any flames, not that there were many in the first place, according to dispatch, so it’s just a matter of making sure the building is clear and securing the area.

Eddie’s sweeping through the back storage rooms when he opens a door and is hit with a face full of dust or… what is that, hairspray?

It sticks to his skin like a fine mist, thick and cloying, and he has to tuck his nose into his elbow through a series of harsh sneezes. But it’s simple enough to wipe his face with his sleeve—god knows he’s seen worse while on the job—and he can always grab a shower back at the station.

”Cap, this is Diaz,” he calls over his radio. “Building is clear.”

”Copy that,” Bobby responds. “Meet back outside, Hen could use another set of hands.”

He’s in the middle of treating a few superficial burns on a pair of teary housewives when suddenly something shifts.

He looks up, nose twitching, spine straightening in anticipation. It’s calling to him, over the smoke and flames, the people and pavement—a hint of the most delectable smell Eddie’s ever had the pleasure of inhaling.

Eddie rises to his feet, faintly aware of Hen calling to him, but it’s a distant concern. Inconsequential.

He follows his nose, stumbling a little over the uneven sections of pavement as he goes, and there’s some primal, instinctive part of him that’s utterly surprised to find Buck at the other end of that mouthwatering scent.

Buck. Of course it’s Buck.

As if feeling Eddie’s eyes on him, Buck glances up from where he’s talking quietly with one of the other responders, helmet tucked under one arm. His expression brightens, a smile stretching across that gorgeous face.

“Eds!” he says, lifting a hand like he needs to catch Eddie’s attention. Like every molecule of his being isn’t singularly focused on that which is Evan Buckley. “Looks like we’re good to— Whoa!”

Buck smells so fucking good, Eddie notes with a sigh of satisfaction, craning to tuck his nose into the space behind Buck’s ear. It’s fucking unfair, is what it is, that he’s been keeping it to himself all this time, hoarding it away when he should know better.

Should know that it’s Eddie’s.

He shifts closer, lifting up on his tiptoes so he can press his mouth to Buck’s jaw, can drag his lips down his neck and bury his face in the hollow of his throat.

Buck makes a noise—low and rough and ragged—and a muscular arm wraps around his waist.

“Eddie,” he says, and god his voice. “What—?”

He wants to shove himself into Buck’s uniform right alongside him and live there for the next forever, wants to wear that toasted-cinnamon-sunshine scent like the best kind of blanket.

Wants to lap up the taste of it off of Buck’s skin.

“Chim!” Buck yells. “Chim, something’s wrong with Eddie!”

Nothing’s wrong with Eddie, Eddie thinks, looping his arms over Buck’s shoulders, breathing him in. He’s right where he should be.

“Hey, hey, Eddie,” Buck says, and one of his hands cups around Eddie’s jaw, easing his head back until they can meet each other’s eyes. He’s got such nice hands, warm and strong, and his touch makes something in Eddie’s chest melt. “Eddie, what happened, what’s wrong?”

“Wanna lick your dimples,” Eddie murmurs, transfixed.

“Um,” Buck squeaks, his eyes going wide.

Eddie makes a move to do just that. Buck’s grip tightens, holding him back, and that slight pain cuts through some of the haze clouding his mind.

“Buck,” Eddie says, blinking hard. “It’s... something’s not right.”

“Yeah, I’d figured that out for myself, Eds,” Buck agrees, strain audible in his voice. Louder, he calls, “Chim! I need you over here!”

“You smell so good,” Eddie tells him. “Why do you smell so good?”

“Your pulse is all over the place,” Buck says, not answering his question, his brow furrowed in concern. “And you’re burning up.”

“You’re burning up,” Eddie retorts.

“Are you due for heat leave?” Buck asks. “I thought you were on suppressants—“

“What’s going on?” Chim asks as he jogs over, Hen just a few paces behind. “Who’s…? Oh, shit.”

“Eddie, hon,” Hen says, her voice pitched low and soothing. “How are you feeling?”

“Urgh.”

“He’s going into heat,” Buck tells them. He’s rubbing small circles into the space between Eddie’s shoulder blades, which is very distracting. “I dunno what happened, but something must’ve triggered it early, there’s no way he’d just forget—“

“Onset is too rapid to be anything natural,” Chim says, reaching up to shine a light in his eyes. Eddie grumbles, hiding his face in Buck’s chest. “He was fine at the start of shift—even a stress heat would take a few days to ramp up.”

“It’s a fertility clinic,” Hen realizes grimly. “What are the odds they had inducers on-site?”

There’s a split second of silence, then they both start talking at once.

“—could’ve aerosolized during the fire—“

“—inhaled them while clearing the building—“

“—no telling how much he was dosed with—“

“We need to get him somewhere safe,” Bobby says, taking charge of the scene. “Get him home—“

But Hen shakes her head. “The inducers are burning through him too quickly,” she says. “He can’t just hunker down at home by himself, his heart could give out. We should take him to the hospital, they can sedate him and flush his system.”

“That shit’s gonna knock him on his ass,” Chim disagrees. “His hormones will be out of whack for months afterwards. It’d be better in the long run if he could work through things with a partner. An alpha, ideally,” Chim clarifies.

Alpha, Eddie’s hindbrain agrees, and he presses his open mouth to Buck’s throat, greedily inhaling more of his scent.

Buck gives a full body jolt and that smoked-sunshine scent grows even stronger. Eddie nuzzles closer, keening softly.

“Whatever you do, you need to do it now,” Buck says, and his voice has dropped to this deliciously husky place. “He’s… he doesn’t have much longer.”

“You’re his medical proxy, Buck,” Bobby says. “Does he have anyone he’d trust with this?”

He can feel Buck swallow, hard.

“Not that I know of,” he eventually says. “There’s no one but… there’s no one.”

“Then we need to get him to the hospital before it gets any worse,” Bobby says, with an air of finality.

”Eddie,” Hen says. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay? Can you let go of Buck for me?”

Her hands land on his shoulders, trying to coax him out of Buck’s arms.

”Wha—?” Eddie startles. He’d mostly been listening to the sound of their voices up until now, not what they were actually saying, and it clicks all at once: they’re talking about taking him somewhere, somewhere away from Buck. “No, I— No, I’m not going anywhere except home.”

”No can do, Eddie,” Chim says, and his tone is light but his eyes are serious. “This isn’t something you can deal with on your own.”

”I won’t be on my own,” Eddie says. “Buck will help me.”

He turns back to Buck, waiting for him to agree, to say they have things handled. But Buck’s expression is strange: somehow fierce and gentle and pained all at once, like he’d carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if he just had enough hands to hold it all.

“You know I would if I could,” he says, with something that could be a smile, but isn’t. “But this one’s a little beyond me.”

”But,” Eddie says, and his stomach is churning, something prickling at the corners of his eyes. He’d been so sure. “But, don’t you want me?”

“It’s not—“ Buck looks away, shoulders dropping. “It’s not about if I want you. It’s about if you want me.”

”I do,” Eddie says, almost before Buck finishes speaking. “Of course I do.”

“That’s just your heat talking,” Buck tells him, with that same sad sort of smile. “Your body wants an Alpha and I’m just the first one you came across.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie hisses. “Bull-fucking-shit, Buck, don’t tell me I don’t want you when I’ve been agonizing for weeks now over whether or not to—“

Something twists and cramps, deep in his gut, and suddenly he’s boiling, scorching from the inside out, so hot that his knees give out from under him.

“Eddie!”

The shouts come from all sides, but it’s Buck that catches him as he staggers, hauling him up so fast that he nearly lifts him right off his feet.

“Hot,” Eddie gasps, clinging to him. “Hurts.”

”Okay, we gotta move,” Chim declares. “Get him in the bus.”

Hen reaches for him again, Chim ducking low as if to grab for his legs, to forcibly tear him away and—

And Eddie can feel his hackles rising, his fists tightening in the fabric of Buck’s shirt almost of their own accord, fury rushing through his veins—

But it’s Buck—Buck who’s one of the kindest, gentlest alphas Eddie’s ever met, Buck, who he’s never seen so much as flash his eyes at anyone, let alone pop a claw or drop his fangs—that bares his teeth and snarls, protective and possessive, cradling Eddie tight to his chest.

It’s so impossibly attractive that Eddie can feel himself getting slick in his pants.

“Buck,” Bobby says after a moment of shock, stern and commanding. “Keep your head, kid. We’re trying to help him. Don’t start something you can’t take back.”

The next sound that Buck makes is high and wounded. His hands spasm against Eddie’s back, and then he’s taking two huge steps away, his heat—his presence—leaving all at once. Eddie whimpers at the loss.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Buck stammers. His entire face is flushed pink, the color creeping down his neck and disappearing under his collar. “You gotta get him outta here, Bobby, you gotta— I can’t—“

Eddie shakes off Hen’s hand and surges forward, plastering himself back against Buck’s front.

“No,” Eddie pleads, and Buck makes another one of those soft, throaty noises, like the air’s been punched out of him. “No, Buck, don’t leave, don’t—“

“Eds,” Buck says. “It’s— Bobby’s right, you’re not in control right now and—“ He lets out a loud exhale; Eddie feels his breath whisper over his hair. “—and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Eddie insists. “You’d never.”

“Never,” Buck agrees. “Which is why you gotta let me go, let Chim and Hen help you.”

“I don’t want them,” Eddie says. “I want you.”

Buck’s next attempt at a smile is more of a grimace, something horribly sad glinting behind his eyes. “No, you don’t.”

“Eddie,” Hen tries, carefully shuffling forward. “You’re medically compromised, you’re not thinking straight—“

“The only way Buck could hurt me right now is by leaving,” Eddie declares.

Doesn’t he know? Can’t he feel the rightness of it all, the sheer magnetism that pulls them together—like two planets in perfect orbit?

“Don’t go,” Eddie continues, nuzzling at Buck’s neck, then leaning in to press a fluttering kiss to his pulse point. “Buck, please—“

Buck groans, a deep, guttural noise, and his hands land ever so gently on either side of Eddie’s rib cage.

“Eddie,” he says, voice tight. “You don’t know what you’re asking me.”

“I’m asking you to come home with me,” Eddie says. “I’m asking you to have my back.”

“Eds—“

“Buck,” Eddie says. “Take me home.”

Buck’s eyes search his face and Eddie knows he’s looking for any hint of doubt or uncertainty. Eddie meets his gaze squarely, begging him to understand, to see.

“Are you even capable of consenting to anything right now?” Buck asks, to Eddie and to the world at large.

“Well, technically,” Chim starts.

“I’m still in my right mind,” Eddie says, and it’s true but he’s not sure if it will be for much longer. He’s hot all over, desire blistering up his spine, over his thighs, searing his skin, but for all that it's suddenly become as imperative as breathing, wanting Buck is nothing new.

If anything it’s become clearer, the feeling distilled down into its purest essence. He wants Buck now because he always wants Buck.

“I’m still me.”

Buck chews on his lip, and he can tell his resolve is weakening.

“Please,” Eddie breathes. “Buck, please.”

Buck cups his hand around the nape of his neck, pulling him in until he can tilt their foreheads together.

“And you’re sure?” he asks quietly, and his eyes are as serious as he’s ever seen them, piercingly, perfectly blue. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure about this, Eddie. ‘Cause if we do this, there’s no walking it back.”

”I’m sure,” Eddie promises. “I’ve never been so sure.”

”It doesn’t have to be me,” Buck attempts, like he thinks he needs to give him one last out. “If there’s someone else you’d rather—“

Eddie shuts down that train of thought the only way he knows how: he closes that last bit of distance between them and captures Buck’s mouth in a bruising, claiming kiss.

”It’s you,” he growls, fiercely. “It’s only you, Buck.”

You’re mine.

Buck swallows. Wets his lips.

”Hey, guys?” he says, never moving his gaze from Eddie’s face. “Looks like we’re gonna need a ride.”

#911 abc #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*final cut #I debated over whether to post this or to wait #but I really wanted to get this first half out there

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