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Giddiness ran through Buck’s veins. He stretched his arms, his hamstrings, even his calves.
Eddie, on the other hand, leaned against a tree wearing a lazy smile like he was waiting on a weather report.
"You should warm up," Buck encouraged.
"I did."
"But it’s been a half hour. Your muscles will get cold.'' Both of Eddie’s eyebrows crinkled. "Seriously. You don’t want to strain something when the race starts."
"I ate whole grains, clean protein and increased my fruits and vegetables for a month. I’ve woken up at the crack of dawn before our shifts to go running with you."
"Yeah, but--"
Eddie held up a finger. "We’re wearing matching outfits."
Buck stared down at his brand-new shirt, the same one that clung spectacularly to Eddie’s chest. "It’s a high-performance t-shirt."
"Yes, I know."
"It’s like super-soft, lightweight, breathable material, with--
"--moisture-wicking, sun-protective fabric."
"You don’t like the hemlock green color, do you?" Buck stretched out the fabric to get a better look in the sunlight. "Because I asked you if you preferred the green or aqua steel blue."
"I love the color. And the matching black running pants. It's all very efficient and high performance. But it’s race day and we're all here." Eddie rested a hand on Buck’s shoulder. "Let’s just…you know. Enjoy the moment."
"I can do that."
Except it was race day and Buck had a countdown starting in January and Eddie was looking like a freaking three-course meal in the clothes Buck picked out for him, and Eddie agreed to wear without batting an eye. And maybe Buck shouldn’t have bought them such flattering shirts, because looking at Eddie was proving distracting.
Buck started pacing the grass until Eddie shot out an arm like a railroad crossing gate, giving him a fond would you please chill the hell out expression. Instead, Buck headed toward the long folding table and started rummaging through his backpack, checking, and double-checking it for the tenth time.
Water bottle, sunscreen, headlamp, colored markers, notepad, extra t-shirt, water shoes.
"I don’t think anything’s changed in the last five minutes,” Eddie said, walking over.
But there was something he was forgetting. "Did you pack a compass?"
Spotting Eddie’s pack, Buck reached for it when one of the judges cleared their throats.
“We’re partners,” Buck explained of his offense.
The judge stared at him like she might come over and smack his hand with her clipboard.
"My watch has a compass." Eddie made a show of escorting Buck away from the table and whispered in his ear. "What happened to following the rules?"
“I didn’t know I was breaking them,” Buck hissed back.
Eddie gave Ms. Clipboard a small wave while the other participants began to gather. Buck spotted Hen and Chim walking over, Bobby and Ravi hot on their heels.
That started his pacing again, much to Eddie’s dismay. "How many cups of coffee have you had?"
"Only one." Eddie’s eyebrows drew together in his disbelief and Buck relented. "It was a cold brew with MCT oil."
Hen whistled while Chim stood beside them. "MCT oil? Isn’t there something in the rule book against performance enhancing drugs?"
"The only performance enhancing going on is the HITT training I did to prepare." Buck pulled his phone out to show everyone his stats, but Eddie snatched it out of his grasp and stuffed it into his back pocket.
Buck stared at him. "What?"
"Um. You trained for this?” Ravi asked.
Eddie released a long-suffering sigh. "We trained. Every day. For a month.”
Buck could not believe his ears. Did they not grasp the glory of the great adventure before them? He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Running across the scorching plains of Africa, bolting down the steep steps of Shanghai, diving straight into synchronized swimming routines with Olympic athletes in Moscow. These are only a few obstacles we might encounter during…The Amazing Race."
Bobby frowned. "This is for charity.”
Buck spread out his arms to encompass the couple hundred people mingling around the park. "And it’s against all the other firehouses in the city. We do have a reputation to uphold."
"Like what?" Hen asked.
"Like having the most chaotic house in the city." Lena Bosko strolled by, taking a gulp from her water bottle. "Seriously. You guys are trouble magnets."
Buck bit his lip, because on the one hand, she was kind of right, but mostly he didn’t need to hear any smack talk from the person who taped her name over his locker and in a short period of two months introduced Eddie to an unhealthy form of stress release.
Chim glanced between Bosko and the rest of the team. "I feel offended."
Dehler, Bosko’s partner, came over and patted Chim on the shoulder. "Don’t worry, it’s not like any of you have a chance to win."
Buck puffed out his chest and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulder with all the gravitas of a peacock. “Eddie and I will be sure to wave when we pass everyone else to take first place."
Chim took the sunglasses perched on his head and dramatically placed them over his eyes. "First place, you say?"
“Everyone else?" Bobby repeatedly amused.
“I mean, we are one of the best teams out here."
"I think I hear the siren call of a wager," Chim sing-songed.
"More like the beginning of a giant headache," Eddie mumbled.
Dehler snorted, elbowing Bosko and whispering in her ear. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest like she was annoyed.
"Something funny?" Chim asked.
"Oh, nothing, man. Just saying I’d take that bet. It’ll be easy money." Dehler rolled his shoulders. "Former three-time decathlon runner, chess master, and captain of he LAFD tough man team."
Hen mouthed, tough man team? And rolled her eyes.
Dehler smacked his gum loudly, staring at Eddie like he was waiting on him to personally respond.
Eddie cracked open the widest, longest yawn, covering his mouth with his hand as it stretched on for almost ten full seconds. "Sorry, about that," he waved. "There must be a lack of oxygen around here. You were saying something?"
A flush spread across Buck’s cheeks. Eddie could be a smug, petty bitch sometimes. Buck could eat him up with a spoon.
Chim got a spark in his eye and Hen grinned like a Cheshire cat.
"See you at the finish line," Dehler said, pointing a finger at Buck and Eddie like a cartoon villain.
Eddie glanced down at the finger his brow furrowing like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. Bosko grabbed her partner by the elbow and dragged him away.
Eddie took that moment to pull out his water bottle, taking a long slow drink before looking over at Buck. "We just got paid, right?"
If Buck wasn’t already pumped, he was now primed and ready to go.
There were thirty teams of two. Everyone gathered at the end of the park, the host of the race standing on a platform to be heard over the noise of the watching crowds and spectators.
The host waited for the collective chatter to die down before talking through his megaphone. "The first obstacles should be familiar to all of you. You and your partner will split up; the first will compete in the hose task. Competitors need to lug a hose pack up ten flights of stairs.Five times."
There was a collective groan from the crowd.
"Once you are done, you’ll tag your partner, who will then run through several pylons and drag a heavy rescue dummy for a long distance. After the dummy is across the finish line, you’ll get your first clue for the task challenge."
Buck conferred with Eddie, but they were both on the same page. Buck went first.
Hefting the forty-pound hose pack over his shoulders, Buck ran up the first flight of steps, his feet pounding each metal rung. He ran in a tight spiral, his heart hammering against his chest as he continued upward.
His quads burned with the effort, but this is what he did: carried heavy equipment, expected to take any obstacle, through burning buildings, up any stairwell, up a giant ladder truck.
Up, down, up, down. Buck repeated the exercise five times, and on the final descent, the pack heavy over his shoulder, he tagged Eddie, his lungs ready to explode.
Hands on his thighs, Buck panted, watching the rest of the competition. He and Eddie weren’t in first place. Maybe fourth?
He took the water bottle from one of the volunteers, watching Eddie drag the two-hundred-pound dummy around cones, and over small hills, a smile spreading across Buck’s face.
It wasn’t easy what they did. The physical and mental stress took its toll. But on days like today, Buck could admire the sheer physicality of it all, his eyes drifting toward Eddie’s broad shoulders, his back, and how he passed that jackass, Dehler, halfway through the course.
"You might want to hide your glee just a little," Bobby said before clapping for his teammate. "Ravi! You’ve got this!"
Then Bobby spotted Eddie and sighed. "Pretty strategic, I must say."
Buck tried not to sound too self-satisfied. "I mean, either Eddie or I could have done the hose challenge, although I do more power weights than he does. But with this…."
"Eddie was in the Army."
"Where one of the drills for medics was to practice carrying an unconscious patient to a waiting chopper. Over and over again."
Bobby looked at Buck and shook his head. "Oh, yeah. You’re not smug at all."
"Maybe just a little bit," Buck said with a cheeky grin.
He watched with pride as Eddie crossed the finish and dropped the dummy at the judge's feet.
"That's what I’m talking about!" Buck ran over, smacking Eddie’s hand with a giant clap.
The volunteer came over with a blue card. Buck tore open the envelope while Eddie chugged down a bottle of water. "Make your way to the Old Irish Tavern for your next task."
They’d only been given fifty dollars for transportation for the whole race. But it was already approaching noon and the sun was beating down on them. Buck opted for taking the taxi to the bar to try to stay ahead.
That seemed to be everyone else’s idea, too.
Three teams had already gathered at various tables.
Buck searched the bar rubbing at his eyes so he could see in the low light. There was an empty table at the far end. "Over there."
Eddie sat down and opened a plain brown box that was waiting on them. "It’s a jig-saw puzzle." He flipped the cover around. "With no picture."
Buck took the opposite seat from Eddie as he dumped the contents onto the table. "How are we supposed to solve it then?"
"I used to make puzzles with my Abuela."
Buck watched Eddie’s hands, his deft fingers laying all the pieces flat on the table. "Is there a strategy?"
"Start with the edges first."
Nodding, Buck began sorting the pieces.
Eddie kept wiping sweat from out of his eyes, squinting. After being outside for so long, both their vision were still adjusting to the darkness inside the bar. Buck fumbled a few times, adrenaline and exertion making his fingers shake. A piece fell to the floor, and he almost bumped his head on the edge of the table, reaching for it.
"Maybe we should take a second to drink some water," Eddie suggested. "We depleted a lot of electrolytes in the last challenge."
Buck wanted to push through, but then he remembered this contest pitted people through physical stress before forcing them to do mental tasks. "Yeah, that’s a good idea."
After taking a few sips of water, Buck started thinking through the puzzle more.
He began laying all the pieces out picture-side up and grouping them by similarities. Browns together, blues together. "I think this is an ocean scene….no, maybe the sky?"
"Both?"
They traded pieces, wordlessly helping the other, finding patterns.
"There’s something mechanical in the middle. Metal or something," Buck said.
If they could figure out what they were creating, it would make it easier to put it all together.
"I think it’s a bridge," Eddie said.
The sound of Hen and Chim shouting distracted Buck. He looked up in time to see them excitedly talking over each other.
"How’d they catch up so fast?" Buck asked.
"Chim’s always playing puzzles late at night."
Buck hurried. "Why does the bridge have so many damn wires?"
"It's the Golden Gate."
Chim jumped out of his chair and danced. "How does it feel to stay winning?" he crowed while hurrying Hen out the door.
Buck urged his brains and fingers to go faster. "Come on, come on."
He slotted the last part of the ocean just as Eddie finished the sky.
Standing, Buck read the message at the bottom of the puzzle. "Head to ASAP Delivery service for your next clue."
It was a four-block sprint to ASAP Delivery. Buck spotted a guy with long hair standing outside the entrance and ran up to him. "Hey, do you have our clue?"
The guy looked around bewildered. "What clue?"
"You know, the clue?"
"Like Colonel Mustard in the library?"
"Huh?"
"Buck." Eddie tapped him on the shoulder and pointed where Hen and Chim were talking animatedly to a young woman on the other side of the stairs.
"Oh, sorry," Buck mumbled.
Jogging over, they were able to catch the explanation of the next challenge.
"Your next task is a detour," the woman explained. "Only one member of your team can complete the next challenge. One person must deliver twenty pieces of luggage to at least five hotels around town using a cargo bike."
"Nope, not it," Hen said, to Chim’s dismay.
Buck clapped his hands together, excited at something geared toward his strengths. "Well, I actually ride a bike every day."
Eddie didn’t argue with him, which in hindsight, should have been the first clue that maybe Buck should have deferred.
ASAP Delivery was bustling. The lobby was filled with couriers coming in to get the packages and first responders trying to find their next clue.
He didn’t try to calculate who was in what place, Buck just ran over to the contest volunteer to get his stuff, pausing a second before making grabby hands at her. "You work with the race, right?"
The woman pointed at the smiley sticker on her shirt that said Amazing Race Volunteer with a grin. "I sure do, hon."
Instead of a bright yellow envelope, she handed him a box. "You can change around the corner."
"Change?"
"Into your bell hop uniform. You must complete the task while wearing it. Any deviation and you’ll have to start over."
The uniform wasn’t just a simple red shirt, it was like a total formal get-up complete with a red fitted waist-length jacket. The collar was trimmed with fancy braids and rows of close-set brass buttons. The cuffs of the jacket had matching gold braids, and the finishing touch was a brimless cap which Buck couldn't get to fit right on his head.
When he walked outside it was like the firehouses were waiting to take pictures.
“Say cheese!” Hen shouted.
Eddie, the traitor, was taking video. "You know Christopher had to dress up as the Little Drummer Boy once for Christmas."
Buck ignored them, but the contest volunteer could bring over his ride anytime now. A lanky guy with freckles came around the corner wheeling the cargo bike toward him.
But the moment Dehler and Bosko showed up to get their clue, Eddie cut the volunteer off by grabbing the bicycle handlebars away from him. “Thanks. I’ve got it from here."
Buck was pretty sure that Eddie would have bodily lifted him off his feet and planted him on his bicycle if Buck hadn’t obeyed his commands.
Handsy, competitive Eddie was really freaking hot. If Buck hadn’t been so preoccupied, he would have growled in Eddie’s ear when their shoulders brushed.
Once he crossed the street, however, he realized he had.
Wearing a bellhop uniform while trying to drive through downtown L.A. was the sixth level of hell. The jacket was too tight, and the collar made his skin itch. Not to mention it was freaking hot outside.
And he had to wear his helmet over the stupid cap?
He was going to make Eddie do the next detour and they better make him dress in a ballerina or clown outfit. With make-up. Lots of make-up.
Buck pedaled around pedestrians and food delivery people while weaving in and out of traffic. "Excuse me, coming through."
Why didn’t anyone pay attention? This was the reason there were so many accidents.
Ching ching.
Buck almost veered into the other lane before correcting his direction.
Coming up beside him was Ravi who was grinning ear-to-ear.
Ching ching.
And he had a freaking bicycle bell. A bicycle bell that he was ringing to get Buck to move out of the way.
What the hell?
Ravi gained on him like he had the legs of Lance Armstrong, ringing the bell as he passed him.
Ching ching.
An hour and twenty minutes later Buck delivered his last piece of luggage and drank half a liter of water while Eddie poured another bottle over his head.
"How are you feeling? Any shortness of breath?"
"I’m fine," Buck said with a wave of his hand. "What place are we in?"
"Seventh."
Seventh? How did six teams get ahead of them?
"What are we waiting for? We need to get the next clue."
Eddie placed both hands on his shoulders, preventing Buck from moving another inch. "Mandatory rest break."
But Buck’s brain short-circuited on the fact that Eddie was physically keeping him in place. "Um, what?"
"Each team is given an hour rest break and allowed to resume the race in the order that they finished."
"Cap and Ravi?"
"Ahead of us by twenty minutes."
"Chim and Hen?"
"I heard there was a mishap with a school crossing guard and a dog walker."
It took Buck a second to parse that phrase in his brain. "And the first-place team?"
Eddie clenched his jaw. "They'll get a thirty-minute head start."
"Which team is it?’
Eddie avoided eye contact.
The rest break was actually a good idea, and it gave Buck time to change back into his race gear.
Buck ripped open the next envelope and read the instructions out loud. “It’s time for a scavenger hunt. Each team will be given a different location to hunt for a specific item. You must make your way south to the California Bunny Museum where you will get your next clue.”
The bottom of Eddie’s jaw dropped. "The California what?"
A contest volunteer wearing a pink nose and white floppy ears was waiting on them. "You’re team number seven!"
Eddie took the envelope she offered with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
The volunteer’s cheeks turned bright pink.
Oh, trust me darling, I know, Buck thought.
Buck read the clue over Eddie’s shoulder.
The Bunny Museum is a staggering collection of bunny-based art, figurines, toys, antiques, and even Rose Parade paraphernalia. More than 35,000 items fill the two-story building, all curated by husband-and-wife co-founders. Your job is to locate the white-bunny model used by special effects artists to create the zombie bunny in the cult classic, Hare of the Devil.
Eddie stared at the doors that lead to the museum with the same type of distrust he reserved for AI technology. "Are you sure this isn’t a detour where only one of us has to go inside?"
Buck took Eddie by the elbow. "Come on, let’s hop to."
Buck didn’t need to look at Eddie to know he’d just missed the most dramatic eye roll in history.
There were a million bunnies. Buck had never seen so many in his life. There were a hundred on the first table alone. A giant glass display case contained stuffed bunnies in every color and shape, all their beady-little eyes staring at them.
"This is really disturbing," Eddie whispered. "Do people really bring their kids here?"
"I don’t know, but I think we should split up."
"Seriously?"
Buck gave Eddie a pat on the shoulder as he set off in the opposite direction.
But splitting up didn’t seem to make searching any easier. Buck was going to dream of rabbits every time he went to sleep. Purple rabbits. Rabbits with missing ears. Acid-induced white rabbits, polka-dotted rabbits, rabbits with little yellow hats.
What the hell was a vampire bunny supposed to look like?
Buck searched for a blood-sucking rabbit with fangs and saliva running down its chin.
It felt like at any moment they might all merge together to create a gigantic bunny that would jump on top of them.
There.
"Found it!" Buck yelled.
He ran towards Eddie, waving the evil-incarnate of Easter Bunnies. "It was sitting next to Peter Rabbit."
"What kind of sicko would try to destroy childhood dreams like that?"
"Come on," Buck said, hurrying Eddie out the door. "Maybe we made up for some time."
"You’re Team number three!"
Buck held up his hands in triumph and Eddie high-fived him, the two of them clutching each other, holding the other up, adrenaline like a static charge between them.
And for the briefest moment Buck almost pulled Eddie closer, the urge to kiss him almost overwhelming, until he felt the gaze of the volunteer on them, her eyes so wide in anticipation Buck thought she might explode.
Buck cleared his throat and pulled away, Eddie following his lead with a small, perplexed frown.
The girl with the bunny ears wilted in disappointment before begrudgingly handing them the next clue.
They decided to sprint to the next location. The race was in its fourth hour and people lined the streets to clap and cheer as they made their way toward a warehouse.
Buck spotted Bobby and Ravi huddled around a table in deep concentration. Bosko and Dehler were nowhere to be found.
A contest volunteer approached with the next clue.
Eddie opened the envelope. “You must build paper airplanes. Each airplane must complete a series of tasks. Your materials will be at your assigned table."
The materials were reams of white paper and some craft supplies. Buck clapped his hands together. "Okay, I'll let you take the lead."
Eddie picked up a sheet of paper and started absently folding it. "I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I was never good with geometry."
"But you were in the Army."
"The Army. As in ground forces. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure the Air Force uses real planes."
Buck would not be deterred. "Okay, let’s just see what we have to do. It can’t be that hard."
Buck didn't know so many airplanes could crash and burn.
Eddie gathered the remains of all their failed craft and studied them. "The wings need to be more aerodynamic."
"I’m folding the paper in half right down the middle." Buck held up his ruler to demonstrate how precise he was making the imaginary line. "How much more dynamic does it need to be?"
But airplane number nine quickly dived toward the ground.
Eddie grabbed another sheet of paper and stared at it. Hard. Buck wasn’t sure if he was trying to set it on fire with his mind or make it levitate by sheer will power, but he recognized the very moment where the light bulb went off in Eddie’s mind. "You figured something out."
Eddie's brow furrowed in concentration. "Pitch and yaw."
"Pitch and yaw, yeah, I like the sound of that. Go on."
Eddie sighed. "That’s all I remember. I think it has something to do with rudders."
"I thought rudders were on a boat?"
"Maybe planes and boats both have rudders?"
"Wait." Buck snapped his fingers. "The helmsman is like a pilot. They steer the boat. They turn the rudder to increase or decrease the…."
He didn’t even finish his thought. Buck went to work making another airplane, tearing slits at the end where he could adjust the flaps up and down like a flag. "I think this is what Maddie and I did as a kid. One flap made it turn left, the other right."
He paused, the memory weaving in and out of his mind. The giggling, the awe of watching something that he built doing what it was designed to, a smile curling his lips.
He felt a presence behind him, Eddie’s solid body soothing and comforting. “Good memory?"
"Yeah. Maddie and I were in the backyard. We must have used up a whole thing of paper. We’d even you know, draw designs on the wings. She’d make hers into birds. And I’d draw dragons."
Eddie smiled, his eyes soft. "With flames?"
"No. With bright colored wings."
If possible, Eddie’s smile grew larger. He licked his lips pausing, like he was trying to gather his thoughts. "Maybe after the contest is over, we could make some together with Chris. I’d love to see your designs."
Buck beamed. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Eddie inched closer and between one second and the next, Buck felt that electric charge building between them again—
A paper plane whistled over their heads.
Buck looked over in time to see Dehler smirking at them.
Eddie scraped his fingernails over the table. "Please tell me during all your reminiscing, you remembered what technique you used to make the plane go really far?"
"Actually, I do." Finding another sheet of paper, Buck folded the wings into a T shape, but didn't make the front into a triangle.
"That’s an interesting design choice," Eddie said.
"Sometimes the simplest goals get the best results."
Signaling the judge that they were ready, Buck took a deep breath and threw.
It should have struck Buck as odd that the next volunteer didn’t look that excited to see them. In fact, she smiled meekly at them before handing them the envelope and moving away.
Riding high on their latest victory, Buck tore it open, his excitement dying at reading the words. "Another team has given you a U-turn. You must perform an additional task before you can continue with the race."
"What?" Eddie growled.
"You must get strangers to give you money until you’ve collected a hundred dollars." Buck looked at Eddie whose face looked like it had just sucked a lemon. "You can sing, you can dance, you can be as creative as you want." A line of fine print at the very bottom caught his attention and Buck squinted as he held the card closer to his face. "You may be as creative as you want as long as it doesn’t include removing any clothes."
He glanced over at Eddie. "Why do they think we’d do that?"
The streets of downtown L.A. were not very kind when it came to panhandling.
"Excuse, miss…," before Buck could finish his sentence the young woman had already walked by him.
"Um, hello," he tried again to no avail.
Feeling crushed by the weight of the unkind masses, Buck sat down beside Eddie who was sulking on the sidewalk. "This is really hard."
"This is L.A.," Eddie mumbled, "people don’t give something for nothing."
"So, we ask for money in exchange for, I don’t know. Goods or service."
"We still have paper and a pen, right?" Unshouldering his pack, he dug through the contents and pulled out a notebook. "We need to advertise what we’re willing to do."
Eddie stared at him in suspicion. "And that is…?"
Things weren’t going bad. Buck already had twelve dollars. He held up his$1 for Hugs sign up high and glanced over at the near-empty tip jar.
An elderly lady who was pushing a laundry cart stopped and opened her arms wide. Buck gently gave her a hug, holding her for as long as she wanted.
And when she handed him a ten-dollar bill, he wouldn’t accept it.
"I think you’re missing the point of charging, son," she told him, stuffing the money into his hands.
He checked in with Eddie who had carried someone’s groceries to their apartment building, walked a person’s dog, and gave a couple of tourists directions.
"I’ve got twenty bucks."
"Okay, a third of the way there," Buck said. "But I think we need to raise prices or find something that charges more."
"I can think of a few things that you can charge more for," a woman said, walking by.
Buck was considering the idea of crossing-out the word hug with the word kisses, but Eddie must have developed the ability to read minds, because he pulled the notebook and pen out of his hands and shot him a look that made Buck hold up his hands in surrender. "It was just a thought."
But they did need a plan. Before Buck could make another suggestion, Lena Bosko came out of nowhere, pulling the pad of paper out of Eddie’s unsuspecting hands and started scribbling her own sign.
"Um…," Eddie started to protest.
"Look. Dehler is an ass and he’s the one who U-turned you both. I’m just evening up the odds, because I like to beat people fair and square."
Then she shoved the new sign into Eddie’s hands. "This should do it," she said before walking away.
Eddie glanced down at what she wrote and slowly held it up for Buck to see.
Two dumb, pretty guys in need of money for a stupid contest. Incapable of winning otherwise.
While they were both gawking at the sign, someone dropped money into their jar.
After seven hours of physical and mental tasks, Buck and Eddie finally arrived at the city park for the final challenge. Hundreds of people gathered to watch, a DJ played techno from a small stage, everyone vibing together in fun.
They were all on a thirty-minute rest break and each team’s scores would be tabulated based on the time they’d arrived.
Buck scanned the scoreboard, noting only four teams were ahead of them. Not bad given we were U-turned. Eddie tapped Buck's shoulder, and nodded at Bobby who was walking toward them alone.
"Where's Ravi?" Eddie asked.
"He sprained his ankle on a pogo stick."
"I don't remember a pogo-stick challenge," Buck said.
"We had to search for a baseball bat inside a sports museum when he spotted one," Bobby sighed. "He thought it’d be fun to try one out."
Eddie grimaced. "That sucks."
Buck looked around. "What about Chim and Hen?"
"Speak of the devils," Bobby pointed.
Chim held up his hands in a sheepish manner, Hen walking beside him with her arms crossed.
"What’s wrong?" Buck asked.
"We had to find a two-inch Astronaut Barbie at the Barbie Museum," Hen said.
Bobby looked confused. "And?"
Chim shrugged. "I took pictures of all the displays and used a search program to find her."
Hen glared at him. If looks could kill Chim would be charred dust. "And we got disqualified for cheating."
Oh.
"So, that means," Bobby looked over at Buck and Eddie. "The reputation of the 118 rests on both of your shoulders."
No, pressure whatsoever.
Clipboard judge stood on the stage to give the instructions for the last task.
"That’s the meany who disqualified us," Chim whispered.
Hen elbowed him in the side.
"The final competition is called: Greek Games. Teams must complete two of four events from the ancient Olympic Games: discus, 100-yard sprint, javelin throw, and Greco-Roman wrestling. You will draw your events from a hat and be paired against another team by random drawing."
Buck waited for it….
"And to keep to the tradition of the Ancient Games, all contests must be completed in ancient Greek attire."
"Why don’t I like the sound of that?" Eddie mumbled.
"Because the athletes competed naked," Chim answered with a smirk.
He and Eddie did not have to compete naked, but they did have to change into togas.
Buck swapped his high-efficiency running pants for a pair of shorts, then proceeded to take off his moisture-wicking shirt in exchange for a bedsheet. Okay, not a bed sheet, but close enough: it was one long piece of white, breezy fabric.
One of the contest people helped him drape it over his left shoulder, leaving the right side bare, then wrapped it around his middle, under his arm and across his chest. The rest of it hung loose around his knees.
"Is it supposed to be this short?" Buck asked, but the volunteer was gone. It felt like he was wearing a short dress.
Huh. It was actually comfortable.
When he stepped out of the dressing tent it was to more camera phones. Even Bobby was in on the act, gesturing for him to turn around.Then he heard a few whistles and Buck immediately gravitated toward Eddie wearing his own toga, the wispy fabric teasing his broad shoulders, the sprinkle of chest hair.
Buck didn’t know anything about Greek culture, but they sure knew how to make a bed sheet sexy. Or maybe that was just Eddie who could probably make a brown potato bag risqué.
"You might want to cover your mouth, or you'll drool everywhere," Hen whispered in his ear.
Buck snapped his mouth closed, but based on Eddie’s wandering eye, he wasn’t the only one admiring the view.
"I think these two need to get a room," he heard someone else say. It wasn’t any of his teammates.
The race came down to a draw in a hat. Buck pulled out the piece of paper. Javelin throw.
Buck had no idea how to throw a javelin. The contest supplied an instructor who went over safety protocols and the basics of throwing, but Buck was still a little unnerved.
"Remember you will be competing against another opponent’s score by random drawing."
Rebecca was from house 141 had already thrown. He needed to beat 30 meters. The same distance as a semi- tractor trailer or two volleyball courts.
In other words,really freaking far.
Everyone yelled advice.
"Hold the javelin above your shoulders!"
"Aim it in the direction of the throw!"
"Throw with the tip pointing down!"
"Put all your force on your right foot!"
Eddie walked right up to him, and placed his hands on Buck’s shoulders, gripping them hard. "Listen to me, Buck. A javelin was used to kill people in battle. You are the very image of a warring Greek God. Now go out there and strike down your enemy."
Buck had never been so turned on in his life.
Blood pumping, heart racing, Buck started running, the mighty javelin in his hand.
On the twelfth step, he thrust the javelin forward, the giant spoke sailing in the air, and landing past his opponent’s marker.
Buck did a giant fist-pump, the rest of his teammates cheering him from the sidelines.
He spun around in time to be embraced by Eddie, who lifted him off his feet. "You did it!"
Buck laughed and cheered along with him, riding the arousal of enthusiasm, and praying that Eddie didn’t feel how excited Buck really was.
When Eddie eased Buck back onto the ground, he dipped his mouth toward his ear and whispered. "I think we’re both lucky that these togas are so roomy."
The crowds had increased, their chatter competing with the techno beat in the background. Using his crutches, Ravi hobbled over to join them.
And to add to the drama, Dehler had pulled Eddie’s name as his opponent.
"You know, I could slip some zolpidem into his water bottle," Chim whispered.
Bobby did not look amused.
Dehler cracked his knuckles while Eddie pulled out the card for the final challenge. He showed it to Ms. Clipboard.
"The final contest will be Greco-Roman wrestling," she announced.
"Like against each other?" Buck asked.
Ms. Clipboard stared at him. "We do not pit contestants physically against each other."
"That’s too bad," Lena mumbled.
"The contest will be timed," Ms. Clipboard announced. "Each contestant will have five minutes to try to score a pin against one of the trainers of the L.A Wrestling Club, Mr. Fred Tower."
Fred Tower waved to the crowd.
"I wonder if his mother knew she was raising a giant when she named him," Hen commented.
Eddie glanced at Tower then at Ms. Clipboard, tugging on his toga. "Can we get rid of this before the match?"
"That's within the rules."
Before Buck had a chance to process the question, Eddie unraveled his toga, leaving only his running shorts and miles of sweat-slick muscle.
Buck nearly swallowed his tongue.
Buck couldn’t stop staring at Eddie. Which was ridiculous, they changed in front of each other all the time at the station. But that was routine, the removal of the work uniform and into their civilian attire.
This?
Eddie was listening to the rules and safety instructions clad only in a pair of black shorts that hugged his ass. Buck could trace every line of muscle with his mind, the curve of his back, the definition in his chest.
The blow of a whistle startled him out of his racing thoughts as he watched Dehler circle Tower. And circle him again.
"This is a timed event!" Bosko yelled at her partner.
But Dehler was too busy feigning an attack, getting close to the other wrestler before dancing away.
"Where’s the head locks and submission holds?" Hen asked.
"This is a charity event," Bobby pointed out. "I think the captain is only supposed to play defense."
Which would explain why two excruciating long minutes of Dehler attacking or trying to attack had failed. Because trying to grapple pure muscle wasn't easy and Tower was like a giant oak tree, shoving Dehler away like an annoying, tiny yapping dog.
"I thought there was technique involved in this?" Chim commented.
"My partner wouldn't know what technique was if it slapped him across the face," Lena sighed.
"Why is he such an asshole, anyway?" Chim asked.
"Because he was born that way. Not to mention…I might have spoken about my time at the 118 and all the drama you guys attract."
Ravi snorted. "That’s something to be jealous of?"
Watching Dehler get increasingly frustrated was entertaining, though.
Dehler yelled, growled, and even took a running tackle, but nothing he did could bring the other man down for a pin.
Until finally, the whistle was blown, and time was called.
And like a sore-loser, Dehler stalked away without thanking his opponent.
The ring was just a circle made of pebbles and Tower stood in the middle, watching Eddie watch him.
"You can do it, Eddie!" Ravi shouted.
"Go for his knees."
Smack.
"Hey. The other guy’s a freaking statue."
Buck lost track of who was yelling what, he was too engrossed at the unfolding match.
Eddie grabbed Tower around the waist, but unlike Dehler, he focused on leg work, trying to hook his ankle around Tower’s to get him off-balance.
Instead of standing there, Tower reacted, grabbing Eddie around his shoulders, the two of them grappling for control.
While Tower was only supposed to pay defense, it was obvious that Eddie was giving him a run for his money. He’d shoved Eddie away and Eddie grabbed him from a new angle.
It was a flurry of arms and legs, grappling and grunting. Each man vying for control.
"Wow, this is …."
"Very homoerotic?"
"Um, yeah."
When did it get so hot outside? Buck wiped the sweat at his brow because the only thing he could think of was what would it be like if Eddie grabbed him like that—
Tower tried to grab Eddie. But Eddie side-stepped him then using his knee, swept Tower’s leg out from underneath him, knocking the other man down, pinning his shoulder to the ground.
"Time!"The judge called.
"One minute and thirty seconds."
Eddie barely took three steps before his team surrounded him, smiling and cheering. Hen gave him a jacket to put on and Chim handed him a bottle of water.
Before Buck could make his way into the happy pile, he felt Bobby’s arm around his shoulder. "They're about to announce the winner."
"Ladies and gentlemen, after tabulating the time and points, we are happy to announce the winners of the Amazing Race are…Tami and Rebecca from Firehouse 141!"
Despite all the sad expressions of his team, Buck wasn’t that disappointed, in fact, he was still flying high with adrenaline from watching Eddie win.
Eddie started to make his way over, the rest of the 118 parting like a wave in the ocean when Tower, cut in front, clapping hand over Eddie’s back. "Congrats, man. You displayed some impressive technique."
"Um, thanks."
Oblivious Mr. Captain Wrestling Man couldn’t read the death-stares of all the 118 because he continued talking. "I think you’d really fit in with one of my classes. We could talk it about it, maybe over—"
Oh, hell no.
"Excuse me," Buck said, stepping in between Tower and Eddie. "But Eddie and I have a lot to celebrate tonight."
Eddie looked up at him with the softest, knowing smile.
"But you guys didn’t win," Tower said.
"Are you kidding me?" Buck laughed, content."Eddie and I won the moment we started the race."
There might have been a collective awwwwww, but it was just blended in with the crowd, the DJ, everything in whir of white noise in the background. Nothing else mattered.
Buck gently cupped Eddie’s sides, drawing him closer. "Hey."
"Hey." Eddie laid his hand on Buck’s biceps. "So, after ten hours of running around the whole city, what prize do we get to take home?"
"Oh, I could think of something," Buck growled low in his throat.
"Yeah, me, too."
Feeling on top of the world, Buck pressed his lips to Eddie’s, the two of them kissing deeply to the excited applause in the background.
Fini-
This angst monster wrote something light-hearted! \o/ I think :) It was fun to work outside my comfort-zone.
Comments are always appreciated :)