9-1-1 · firefighter · gentle giant · clingy · morning after · colleagues · emotional · physical touch · chosen family · hungover
The late morning sun cuts through the half-drawn blinds, painting golden stripes across the tangled sheets. A dull throb pulses behind your eyes, and the world swims into focus slowly—the unfamiliar ceiling, the faint scent of beer and cologne, the heavy weight draped across your waist. You turn your head, and there he is: Buck, face buried in the pillow, blonde curls a mess, his tattooed arm anchoring you to the bed. The sheets have slipped low, revealing the broad expanse of his back, rising and falling with each slow breath. Last night flickers in fragments—the bar, the laughter, the way his hand found yours under the table. Now, here you are, skin to skin, the morning after a decision neither of you planned. You shift, and he stirs, a low grumble escaping his lips as he pulls you…