SophTrev



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Captain Buckley, who is steady, who has his shit together, who definitely does not recognize his new probie because he spent a night eight years ago with his hands in that man's hair whispering things against his skin that would get him fired on the spot if anyone in this building ever found out.

    "You must be Eddie Diaz." His hand goes out. Not shaking, by some miracle that deserves its own cathedral, its own patron saint, the patron saint of men who are dying inside and shaking hands about it. "Welcome to the 118. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Captain Buckley."

    Eddie takes his hand. A firm grip, calloused in places Buck doesn't remember, but Buck's skin recognizes him anyway, every nerve, all at once.

    "Captain." Eddie's voice is level, pleasant, perfectly neutral, and Buck would buy it completely if he couldn't see the tension bolted into Eddie's shoulders. "Thanks for having me." A beat. "You got a first name, Captain Buckley?"

    "Evan. But most people just call me Buck."

    "Buck," Eddie repeats, tasting it, dragging it out, and Buck's stomach drops through the floor. "Suits you."

    Or,
    Captain Buckley WILL NOT fuck his new probie, okay? At least, not again.

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    06 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Some times are worse than others to realize you're in love.

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    06 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Buck asks, "Where is your dad?"

    "He's downstairs buying sodas," Christopher replies. He sits down next to Buck and points at the magazine. "Why are you reading Bridal Guide?"

    "Oh." Buck flushes a little. It's not like he can explain: I realized I'm in love with your dad and keep accidentally planning a wedding we're never going to have. "It was this or Golf Digest."

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    12 Dec 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    "It's not what it looks like," Buck blurts.

    Bobby's eyebrows reach for his hairline. "So you weren't violating the one-firefighter-per-shower regulation?"

    "We," Buck sputters. "I mean, okay, yeah. We were, but we—"

    "We were figuring out breakfast," Eddie cuts in.

    "Well, next time, figure it out in different stalls."

     

    (Or: Five Times They Shared a Shower at the Station and One Time They Shared One at Home)

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    11 Dec 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Say it again?” Shane pleads softly. “Before I leave?”

    Ilya nods, pressing his lips to Shane’s chest. When he speaks, it’s like he’s trying to push it between Shane’s ribs—directly to his heart.

    “Baby.” This, first, in English. Then in Russian: “One day you’ll realize that you’re wasted on me.

    Shane utters a quiet sob, like he understands every word. Hours later, when Ilya’s trying to sleep, he’ll swear he can feel the same sound trapped in his throat.

    Or: Ilya loves pet names. One day, Shane returns the favor.

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    20 Apr 2026