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It starts, as most things do in the Diaz household, because of Chris.
Buck and Eddie have developed the perfect system for helping Christopher with his homework. It’s simple, it’s effective, and it works.
It’s Buck.
Since the time Chris started fractions, Eddie stopped being able to help him with his math homework, and he was never really a science guy. Forget about English because Eddie was proudly hopeless when it came to what did the author mean by this? He could sometimes try his hand at history, but more times than not Eddie was happy to let Buck take the reins of sixth grade homework.
Chris’ social studies class is entering their Greek mythology unit this week.
Upon hearing the news, Buck had immediately begun a deep dive. Some of it was pretty official – documentaries, peer reviewed articles, and a couple podcasts hosted by people with more degrees and awards than Eddie could name – and others were more… recreational. The Percy Jackson series became a household favorite.
Now, Buck and Chris sit at the dining table surrounded by packet upon packet that Chris brought home from Mrs. Dandis’ class.
Chris throws his head back and groans. “This is stupid,” he complains.
“Don’t say stupid,” Buck says absently, cross checking the packet with something he has pulled up on his laptop.
Chris groans again, louder this time and accompanied with a toss of his head. “This is not smart. ”
“Better,” Eddie chimes in from across the table. He sips his mug of coffee and glances at his watch again.
He told Chris to get this done last night, but he demanded to wait until Buck was able to come over to help him explain it. Now they’re in crunch time with the minutes ticking down until they have to drop Chris off at school and get to the fire station before their shift starts.
Chris taps the pencil against the table, staring down at the packet with the Greek myth he was assigned to analyze. “I don’t get what’s so important about this. So he goes to the Underworld to get his wife back. The moral of the story is just that he looked back when he shouldn’t have. Orpheus was dumb.” He fixes his pencil in his hand like he’s prepared to write just that.
Buck turns in his seat, and Eddie knows that look on his face.
It’s his infodump look.
“It’s a love story, Chris,” Buck insists.
Chris groans again.
Eddie sets his coffee cup down.
“It is,” Buck says again. “They loved each other, man. Like – like they loved each other. They get married and on the same day, Eurydice gets bitten by a snake and dies and Orpheus –” Buck blows out a long exhale through his mouth, like he can’t quite put into words the gravity of this situation.
Eddie finds himself leaning forward. He listens as Buck retells the story in his own words, and Eddie thinks he could listen to Buck talk all day. Everything from the gleam in his eyes, to the way his hands move to emphasize his every word, to the way his voice gets soft when he really wants to drive his point home, draws Eddie in.
He’s helpless but to fall into Buck’s orbit as he tells his twelve year old about an ancient tragedy.
Chris seems to be caught in the same gravitational pull. His pencil dips from his fingers, the graphite tip dragging against the paper in an abandoned effort to write he was dumb on his answer sheet.
It is written into Diaz DNA to hang onto Evan Buckley’s every word.
“It wasn’t dumb to look back, it was destined,” Buck finally begins to wrap up his tangent. “He loved her so much he was always going to look back. That’s what love does to you,” Buck’s gaze flicks up, and for one time-stopping moment, he meets Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie’s heart lurches in his throat, and he thinks he might be sick.
“Do you think Eurydice was mad at him?” Chris asks quietly, homework entirely forgotten in light of the story unfolding around him.
Buck shrugs, finally dragging his gaze back to Chris.
Eddie feels slightly colder without the weight of Buck’s eyes.
“I don’t know.” Buck says carefully. “Do you think you’d be mad at someone loving you that much?”
Eddie wants to be capable of that kind of love so bad – of being loved like that. He wants it so much his teeth ache with the force of it.
Slowly, Chris shakes his head. “I guess not,” he finally decides. He picks his pencil back up, thinks for a moment before beginning to fill in his first answer.
Halfway through his sentence, he picks his head up to look at Buck. “You would look back,” Chris declares, like he knows this to be an unmitigated fact. He goes back to writing.
He says it simply, like grass is green, the sky is blue, and Buck would look back.
Eddie watches Buck take the words like a blow. His eyes widen and his chest physically stutters. “Yeah,” Buck says, the word cracking down the middle. Like he can’t help it, Buck turns his head back to Eddie. “I would.”
Oh.
That sick feeling returns to Eddie’s chest, tenfold now, because Christopher is right.
Buck would look back. Buck does look back. Buck has walked through the streets of LA, bleeding and covered in muck, with nothing but a pair of glasses strapped around his neck, and all he did was look .
And all Eddie did was forgive. There was nothing to forgive.
Eddie will never forget the way that Buck had looked at him, like a dog expecting a hit, cowering down but too afraid to flee.
How could Eddie have been mad at Buck when he walked through hell just to try and find his son?
Eddie stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
Buck’s flinch is almost violent.
Chris barely even looks up, so wrapped up in turning his thoughts into words that he couldn’t care less as Eddie stumbles to the bathroom.
Okay, Eddie thinks to himself, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Eddie might be in love with his best friend. Eddie’s best friend might just love him back.
It’s not as life altering as Eddie thought it would be. He loves Buck. Of course he does, how could he not?
It’s slightly more nerve wracking to think that Buck might love Eddie back. He can feel his heart rate kick up and his hands get clammy at the idea of Buck even possibly being in love with him.
Eddie just wants to be deserving of it.
Okay, Eddie thinks again. He nods to himself in the mirror. He can do that. Eddie can be deserving of Buck.
***
Eddie is acting strange. It’s nice, most definitely, but it is also without a doubt very strange.
Buck eyes him suspiciously over the cup of coffee that was practically thrust at his face the moment he stepped into the station.
“Here,” Eddie had said breathlessly, the cup just inches from Buck’s nose. “Figured you’d need some caffeine when you told me you woke up late.”
Buck, at the time still too sleep deprived and so goddamn grateful, could do nothing but snatch the cup from Eddie’s hands. “You’re a good man, Eddie Diaz,” he said after draining half the cup.
It was perfect – from Buck’s favorite coffee shop even though Eddie can’t stand that place. He says the lines are always too long and the drink names are absolutely ridiculous, not to mention way too overpriced.
Yet here Buck sits, with a medium Grandma’s Oatmeal Cookie Latte nestled between his palms. It’s almost empty, all of the residual heat gone from the little eco-friendly cup, but Buck can’t bring himself to throw it away.
Eddie got it for him. Eddie was thinking of him.
Still, even as he fiddles with the empty cup on the couch up in the loft, he glances at Eddie out of the corner of his eye.
Even now, the man is hovering – watching. His eyes flick nonstop between the cup and Buck, like Eddie is still trying to suss out if Buck actually likes it or if he’s just drinking it to be polite, regardless of the fact that Buck profusely thanked him.
“Did you want a sip?” Buck asks tentatively, because why else would Eddie be staring at him like that?
Should he have offered one earlier? Was that the right thing to do even though he knows Eddie hates the sugary stuff that Buck gets? Is he giving Eddie the wrong impression, implying that he hasn’t drunk the whole thing yet since he can’t bring himself to throw it away?
“What – no, uh,” Eddie clears his throat and finally settles down on the couch next to Buck. “That was the right one?” He asks even though Buck knows Eddie knows it’s the right one. Eddie’s legs spread wide as he sits, knees outward like he can’t help it. They brush against the outside of Buck’s thigh.
“Yes, Eddie,” Buck repeats for the umpteenth time. “Thank you. It was perfect.” He pushes his thigh back into Eddie’s knee, like the physical touch will help the message sink in.
Eddie’s cheeks flush and he gets that look on his face, like the satisfaction he gets during a successful rope rescue. His knee presses even closer to Buck’s thigh, his hand come up to rest on the back of the couch – so close to being draped across Buck’s shoulders that his skin itches with anticipation and want , and then –
The bell rings.
The moment is forgotten – no, maybe that’s not right. Buck catches Eddie’s eye, and the adrenaline of a call is rewriting the satisfaction of something, but Buck can still see it lingering beneath the surface.
Not forgotten. Just put on hold.
It was a simple call, all things considered. Nothing too out of the ordinary with the apartment complex that caught on fire thanks to some free-standing candles left unsupervised next to a stack of papers.
The building was evacuated with ease, the fire put down even easier, and all was well.
Buck sits on the back of the ambulance, not because he’s hurt, but because of the baby in his arms. Her mother, a kind woman who was getting checked over with Hen thanks to a nasty cough and a not-so nasty burn on her arm that just needed cleaned and bandaged over, had asked Buck to hold her.
So Buck sits and stares down at the little girl. Her chubby baby hand is clamped around his finger, and Buck kind of forgot about that ridiculous baby strength. He couldn’t get her to let go of his finger even if he wanted to.
Buck hikes her up a little more in his arms, shifting her so she can watch the last of the fire get put out. He points, explaining to her with the utmost seriousness, what the hoses do and what each firefighters’ jobs are at the moment.
The baby babbles back at him, shaking his hand as she flails her fists about.
“Yeah, exactly,” Buck confirms. “See, you get it.”
“Training up our next probie?”
Eddie leans against the side of the ambulance, peeling his gloves off and staring down at Buck and Baby with a softness Buck usually reserves for how he looks at Christopher.
Buck points Baby at Eddie, “And this is Firefighter Diaz,” he introduces. “He’s the toughest, most brave and strong firefighter out there.” Buck gently moves the baby’s arms out like she’s throwing punches, adding in the necessary sound effects.
Eddie plays along, putting his hands up to block the baby punches, before he sits down next to Buck. There isn’t that much room on the back of the ambulance – not for two grown men still in their bulky turnouts – so the two of them are pressed together like slices of bread. Shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh.
“I think you might have me beat there, buddy,” Eddie says without looking at Buck. He waggles his fingers at the baby girl until they’re snatched up by her free hand.
Buck frowns. “What do you mean?”
Eddie looks up, and the eye contact is jarring. Intimate almost. “You’re a good firefighter, Buck. A great one.” He won’t look away. Won’t even blink. “I’m lucky you’re my partner.”
Buck’s mouth goes dry. He swallows harshly, fighting past the desert to try and say something in response to the sudden sincerity that has rocked him to the core when –
“Thank you so much,” the baby’s mother appears from nowhere, her arm freshly wrapped and the worst of the soot cleaned from her face. “You both are angels,” she reaches out for her baby, who gurgles in delight at her mother’s presence. She’s dropped both Buck and Eddie’s fingers in favor of a much better option.
Buck feels unmoored now, in the absence of the baby in his arms and the weight of Eddie’s words still washing over him. “Um –”
“That’s all Buck,” Eddie says smoothly, dropping an arm around Buck’s shoulders. “He’s a miracle worker with kids.”
The mother gives Buck a soft look. “Well, Penelope certainly liked you too,” she kisses her baby – Penelope – on her chubby cheek before picking up her hand in a wave. “Say thank you to the firemen, baby,”
Penelope lets her hand be waved through the air and blows a spit bubble at Buck and Eddie.
The two of them watch the mother-daughter duo walk away. Buck isn’t quite sure what they’ll do considering their apartment building isn’t exactly safe, but it’s not really any of his business.
He hopes Penelope has a good life.
“Do you want to get breakfast after this 24?” Eddie asks, and when Buck turns to look at him, he’s right there. His arm is still draped across Buck’s shoulders, and they’re nearly nose to nose like this.
Buck doesn’t pull back. “Yeah, sure,” he says breathlessly into the space between them. “My treat,”
“ My treat,” Eddie corrects, “this was my idea.” His breath fans lightly over Buck’s face, and how does it still smell good? Has he been popping mints?
“You got me coffee this morning,” Buck fires back, finally settling into the familiar status quo of their relationship. Yes, this is normal. They argue over who pays for what, just like always.
Eddie’s eyes narrow but his lips quirk up. “Can you just let me take care of you?”
Heat shoots through Buck’s gut, and the familiar footing he had finally found has been ripped underneath him once more.
There’s no way Eddie meant it like that.
Bobby’s voice echoes through the parking lot, which Buck is endlessly grateful for. There was no way Buck could come up with anything to say back to Eddie.
“118 let’s move out!”
Eddie’s arm retracts, sliding across Buck’s shoulders and brushing across the nape of Buck’s neck as he pushes himself to his feet. “I’m buying,” he says again with finality.
Buck accepts the hand Eddie offers and allows himself to be hauled upright. “Okay,” he says very normally.
Eddie doesn’t let go of his hand immediately, instead just letting his thumb swipe across the back of Buck’s hand for another moment or two before Bobby calls after them again.
The rest of the shift is suspiciously q-word. Buck doesn’t even like thinking it, but it’s almost like the universe is throwing him a bone.
He tries to catch some sleep in the bunk room and, miraculously, Buck is the only person in there.
The caffeine from the latte Eddie brought him has long since faded, and the meager adrenaline rush from the last cat stuck in a tree rescue didn’t even last long enough to be considered a true adrenaline rush, and now Buck is just tired.
Yet, as he lays there, Buck can’t get his mind to turn off.
All he can think about is Eddie.
Does Eddie know he’s driving Buck crazy? Does he even know he’s acting differently? God, it makes Buck want to scream.
And – okay. Buck knows he’s totally gone for Eddie. Like, doodling their initials surrounded by hearts-gone. All Buck can think about-gone. Walk through the Underworld and turn around too early-gone. Forgive Eddie if he turned around-gone.
It’s humiliating because Eddie is straight, but he’s acting so not-straight that it’s making Buck’s head spin. What he wants is being dangled in front of his nose and he can’t even take a chance, because Buck will only get his heart broken.
It’s not fair. He wants to be mad at Eddie, but even a scrap of him is better than nothing, right?
Like he can hear Buck’s thoughts, Eddie creeps into the bunk room. “Hey,” he whispers even though it’s just the two of them and Buck is far from asleep.
“Hey,” Buck intones back, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes like he can force himself to sleep that way.
If he were at the loft – or at Eddie’s – he would throw on his weighted blanket and let the familiar pressure lull him to sleep within minutes. (Eddie bought one for the house after he noticed Buck using it a couple times at the loft, and it has a permanent resting spot over the back of the couch, at Buck’s usual spot, when it isn’t in use.)
But he’s not at the loft or at Eddie’s, and Buck feels so adrift he might actually float away.
Eddie steps closer, his shoes barely making any noise against the linoleum floor. “Can’t sleep?”
Buck makes a noise, somewhere between a whimper and a groan. “I don’t know why. I’m so tired, I just can’t make my brain turn off.”
Hands close around his wrists, gently pulling his palms from his eye sockets. Buck’s eyes pound with the release of pressure, and he didn’t even realize he was still shoving his hands into his eyes in an attempt to sleep.
“Can I try something?” Eddie’s voice echoes through the room, though that might be in Buck’s head. He sounds almost… nervous.
Buck starts to sit up. “What –”
Eddie’s hand pushes gently at his shoulder, easing him back down against the full-sized bed. “If you don’t… if you don’t like it, just tell me. Just –” Eddie clears his throat. “Just let me try this.”
Eddie lays down on top of Buck.
The bed is really not big enough for the two of them, but there is no mistaking that Eddie is not trying to lay next to Buck. He is laying, very purposely, on top of Buck.
His weight is nearly smothering. It’s all encompassing and, despite the fact that Buck is taller and probably a little more muscled, Buck can feel every pound of Eddie’s body atop his.
It’s – Buck makes a sound in the back of his throat and Eddie suddenly pushes himself up, like he’s about to get off.
“Wait, no –” Buck clutches at Eddie’s waist, the closest thing he could grab. “It’s…” Buck swallows thickly. “It’s nice. Good. It’s good.”
In the dark lighting, Buck can just barely make out Eddie staring down at him. His hair falls with gravity, some strands flopping over his forehead and just barely tickling at Buck’s nose.
Buck’s heart pounds so loud he wonders how it isn’t echoing through the room.
“Are you sure?” Eddie finally speaks.
“Yes,” Buck says immediately. “It’s – nice. Like my weighted blanket.”
Eddie slowly lowers himself back down until they’re flush so tightly that not even air can squeak through the cracks. The tension leaves Eddie’s body as he settles himself back in place, and like this Buck wonders how he didn’t realize how tense Eddie was at first.
“Yeah, I figured you could have used one today,” Eddie says into the dark, his head turned to the side against Buck’s chest and –
Buck feels so goddamn much. Eddie is so good. A good dad, a good firefighter, a good friend. He’s being such a good friend, and Buck is just being greedy, because now he’s going to want this all the time.
There’s nothing sexual about it, although Buck thinks there could be if Eddie was like that. It’s a lifeline. It’s a grounding pressure to keep Buck firmly on Earth. There is absolutely nothing that can get to Buck, not without getting through Eddie first.
Buck’s hand is still resting against Eddie’s waist, curling at the top of uniform pants and hooking a finger into one of Eddie’s belt loops.
Eddie can hear his heart racing, Buck knows it. There’s no way he can’t, not with his ear pressed against Buck’s sternum like it is.
“Relax,” Eddie says again, and Buck’s entire body shakes with the vibration of Eddie’s voice. “I’ve got you,”
And he does.
Buck exhales slowly, feels himself sink down more under Eddie’s frame, and lets himself close his eyes.
***
Eddie’s comforting weight is still pressed atop Buck when he opens his eyes, but it feels less like something that he would die without and more like a creature comfort.
More like a guilty pleasure.
Buck swallows hard and lifts up his wrist to check his watch. Their 24-hour shift is almost done, only 87 minutes left.
Eddie exhales wheezily against Buck’s chest. Somehow in the course of their nap, Eddie had managed to shove his arms beneath Buck’s waist. He can feel a faint twinge in his lower back from the odd angle, but he knows Eddie’s arms have to be nothing but pins and needles right now.
Buck glances around the rest of the bunk room.
Still empty. How strange.
He stares back down at Eddie – at the way his eyelashes brush against his cheeks and his hair has escaped the confines of its usual regulation hair gel. Eddie looks so peaceful in his sleep that Buck kind of hates himself for having to wake him, but Eddie will thank him once he’s able to get some blood flow back into his arms.
“Eddie,” Buck whispers, dropping his hand back down to rest on his lower back. “Eddie, c’mon man, wake up. Our shifts almost over,”
Eddie groans into his chest, turning so he’s pressing his face directly between Buck’s pecs.
Buck’s cheeks burn.
“I have to pee,” he blurts suddenly, even though Buck knows for a fact that is not what’s going on with his dick right now.
It’s certainly the less embarrassing option.
Eddie groans again, the force of his refusal traveling through Buck’s bones. “Hold it,” he commands and shifts on top of Buck. Eddie’s voice is still rough from sleep and Buck thinks he might actually die. His arms flex beneath Buck, fingers burning through his LAFD shirt, but make no move to retract.
“Usually I can take weighted blankets off,” Buck tries desperately, clenching his eyes shut as he wills his dick not to take an interest in what’s happening.
“Not this one,” Eddie rumbles. “You’re being a very good pillow right now,”
Buck bites back a whimper.
This is so not fair.
They lay there a little longer, Buck silently cursing every higher being that may be listening. He’s seconds away from saying the q-word, consequences be damned, when Eddie finally slides his arms out from beneath Buck.
Eddie pushes himself up, his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of Buck’s head, and just looks down at Buck. The lighting in the room, better now that the sun has come up and is shining through the cracks in the buck room windows, means that Buck can actually see Eddie’s face this time.
He wishes he couldn’t.
Eddie’s eyes are still sleep-soft, and the lines of Buck’s shirt have been pressed into his cheeks, leaving soft lines imprinted into his skin. His hair is a mess and Buck wonders if some of his hair gel has rubbed off on his clothes.
“This was nice,” Eddie says softly, still just looking down at Buck.
Buck nods dumbly. “Uh-huh,” he agrees, “yeah, th-this was nice. Really nice.”
Still hovering over Buck like he is, Eddie’s lower body has drifted into the space between Buck’s legs. He’s pushed himself to his knees, the outsides of his thighs pressed against the insides of Buck’s, and Buck forces himself to think of roadkill and vomit and crying babies.
Eddie’s eyes trail over Buck’s face one more time before he finally pushes himself upright and swings his legs off the bed. He groans, twisting as he cracks his back, and Buck pretends the reason he’s covering his face is to wipe the sleep from his eyes.
“C’mon,” Eddie rolls his shoulders and steps back from the bed, allowing Buck the room he needs to get up, “you whined enough about having to pee.”
Right.
Because that is what Buck is thinking about right now.
***
The shift ends with no more calls.
Buck exists in a strange limbo between settled firmly in his bones while also going out of his fucking mind.
That wasn’t normal, right? Not super chill and platonic?
Buck tries to imagine Chim or Hen offering to do something like that for him and comes up blank. No, that was definitely not a normal thing.
Nothing about today has been normal with Eddie and Buck thinks he might be clinically insane now.
“Hey, you still good to get breakfast?” Eddie asks, appearing next to Buck between one blink and the next.
Buck doesn’t flinch, because despite the suddenness of Eddie’s arrival, his body is also acutely aware of Eddie’s every movement, regardless of how messed up his brain currently is.
“I think I might have to cancel,” Buck forces himself to say, even though he wants. He wants breakfast. He wants every meal with Eddie. He wants to let himself be taken care of – wants Eddie to be the one to take care of him.
Eddie frowns, like that was the last thing he expected. “Everything okay? Did something come up?”
“No, um,” Buck swallows. Why is this so hard? “I just think I need to get back home. Really. Everything’s fine, though. T-totally fine.”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie says slowly. Yeah, Buck totally nailed that one. “Can I follow you back to your place? I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Buck’s heart rate kicks up. Never has anything good ever followed I wanted to talk to you about something.
“Yeah,” Buck forces himself to say. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
It is not fine. It is not fine at all. Buck has that strange feeling that he’s about to get broken up with, which is weird because he isn’t even dating Eddie, because Eddie does not like men.
But Buck says goodbye to the rest of the crew. He ignores the strange looks that Hen and Chim share and the way they can’t seem to help the grins on their faces. He does not ask why Bobby looks so pleased as Eddie follows him to where their cars are parked.
Buck forces himself into his Jeep and pulls out of the parking lot.
He fumbles for his phone, pressing Maddie’s contact and immediately putting the phone on speaker as he drives through the heart of morning LA traffic. Eddie must be freaking out behind him.
“Hello?”
“Maddie, I think I’m going crazy.”
Maddie doesn’t respond for a moment. He can hear shuffling in the background and wonders if she’s getting ready for work or if she has the day off to spend with Chim. “Why do you think that?” She finally asks.
Buck inhales deeply. Where to even begin? “Okay, so Eddie was acting so weird at work yesterday. He got me a coffee from my favorite place that is so out of his way, and he hates it anyways. He always says the lines are too long and the drink names are dumb and they’re way too overpriced, but he went anyway and got me a coffee? And he was so nice all day. Like complimenting me and paying attention to me and –” Buck flushes at the thought of the Bunk Incident. Maddie doesn’t need to know that. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“And what’s the problem with this?” Maddie asks slowly, and how can she not see the problem?
Buck glances in the rearview mirror. Eddie’s truck is still faithfully following along. “The problem,” he hisses, lowering his voice like Eddie will be able to hear him, “is that –” Buck cuts himself off. “It’s –” Buck curses, and something like shame rises in his gut.
“Evan, what’s the problem?” Maddie repeats, her voice gentle. Is this how she is on dispatch calls? Does she become a big sister to everyone in her ear?
“I’m in love with him,” Buck finally says. “I’m so in love with him, and he’s just being a good friend. He doesn’t – he doesn’t see me like that.”
The crackle of Maddie’s sigh echoes through the Jeep. “Oh, honey,” she says softly. “Evan, I know you don’t see it, but Eddie cares for you. If you could see him the way we all see him when he’s with you –”
“He doesn’t,” Buck insists, somewhat desperately. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but I can’t get my hopes up. Not about this.” Buck swipes at the tears that have begun to well up in his eyes. “And now he wants to talk about something back at my place, and I think he knows.” Buck laughs, but nothing about this is funny. “I’m about to lose my best friend because I fell in love with him.”
Is Eddie going to let him see Christopher again? Will he be able to help with his homework if Eddie wants nothing to do with him? Will Christopher ask about pancakes in the morning and movies at night, not understanding that Buck has taken advantage of the friendship that his father offered?
“Evan, don’t get ahead of yourself. You don’t know what’s going to happen –”
“Can I come over tonight?” Buck interrupts again. “After… after this, I think I’m really going to need my sister.”
Maddie sighs again. “Of course,” she promises. “Jee-Yun misses you.”
Buck can’t bring himself to smile. “I miss her too.”
He pulls into his apartment complex, Eddie pulling in behind him. “I gotta go,” he says and hangs up before Maddie can say anything else.
They park next to each other, and Buck forces himself to get out at the same time Eddie does. He can’t prolong this. Best to rip it off like a bandaid really.
The two of them walk in silence, opting for the stairs with wordless agreement. Is Eddie planning his I can’t be friends with you anymore speech? It sounds so juvenile, so middle school.
I don’t want to be your friend anymore.
Friend doesn’t feel like the right word to encompass what they truly were. Eddie is family. Eddie is so deeply ingrained in Buck’s life, his existence pressed into his very skeleton, that Buck thinks this might actually kill him.
Buck unlocks his door with numb fingers, pushing it open and immediately going to his fridge. It’s too early for a beer, so he makes himself grab a gatorade, two of them. A purple one for him and an orange one for Eddie. He slides it wordlessly across the kitchen island, straight to Eddie’s hand.
“Buck, I –”
“I’m sorry,” Buck rushes out, clutching the plastic bottle like a lifeline. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Eddie frowns, narrowing his eyes and glancing around like he might have missed something. “You're sorry?” He repeats carefully. “Buck, what are you sorry for?”
Buck begins to pace. He scratches his fingers down the flimsy wrap around the bottle, catching his fingernails on the edges and pulling it out of shape. “I know you don’t feel the same, and I get it – I do. I – I just couldn’t help it.” Buck's voice grows thick the longer he speaks, and pressure begins to well up behind his eyes. “You gave me a family and purpose, and – and a new outlook on life, and I’m sorry I’m taking advantage. I never meant for it to get this far. I thought I could ignore it, but I couldn’t and now –”
“Buck, what the hell are you talking about?” Eddie abandons the orange gatorade on the counter, rounding the corner until he’s standing in front of Buck and the proximity burns.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” Buck whispers and his voice cracks down the middle. “I swear, I didn’t.”
And Eddie just stares.
He stares, eyes wide and uncomprehending as his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.
“Can you say something?” Buck demands, half crazed now as Eddie just keeps staring.
Eddie breaks from whatever horror-induced trance he was in. “I’m looking back at you,” he blurts out.
What?
Of everything Eddie could say, Buck certainly didn’t expect this.
“Excuse me?”
Eddie holds his arms out towards Buck, gesturing in a way that Buck really doesn’t get. “I’m looking. I’m – I’m turning around,” he says again, and there’s a desperation in voice now.
“You’re turning around?” Buck repeats, his frantic confession sizzling out. “You’re – you’re leaving?”
“No,” Eddie bemoans, raking his hands across his face. “I would turn around for you,” he clarifies, except it really doesn’t. Not at all.
Oh God, Buck made Eddie go clinically insane. Buck broke him.
“I’m that guy!” Eddie cries out. “The guy from Chris’ homework! I want to turn around for you, and I want you to turn around for me.”
The guy from Chris’ homework? This might be worse than Buck initially thought. Unless –
“Orpheus?” Buck asks, eyebrows pinching together as he resists the urge to check Eddie’s temperature. “You’re Orpheus?”
“Yes!” Eddie claps his hands together, the sound jarring in the silence of the loft. “I would do that – the walking and the deal and the turning around. I would do that for you – I – I want to do that for you,”
“Eddie, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Does Chris need more help with –”
“I’m trying to say I love you too!”
Buck inhales sharply. “Oh.”
Eddie sighs, rubbing his hands back over his face. “That was way more romantic in my head,” he promises. “I had a whole speech planned out, and it was really good – I swear – and then you beat me to it, but you kept apologizing and I –”
“You love me?” Buck cuts him off. “You love me?”
“Yes,” Eddie repeats into his hands, “that’s what I have been trying to tell you –” Eddie picks his head up suddenly. He stares at Buck, and Buck feels like he’s been flayed open. His insides have been put on display for Eddie and he’s waiting for the verdict, and he thinks he might melt right out of his skin.
“I love you,” Eddie says, pressing the words into Buck’s very being. “I love you, Buck, and I’m sick of dancing around it.”
“Thank fuck,” Buck breathes, collapsing back against the island. He presses his palms into his eye sockets, just like he did back in the bunk room. “I thought I was going insane.” Buck can’t help but laugh, now that his heart is still racing but in a good way and not in an ‘imminent destruction’ type of way.
Eddie shakes his head, a smile creeping across his face. “You’re not,” he promises. “I love you.”
Buck lowers his palms, his eyes peeking out behind his hands. “Say it again?”
Eddie smiles wider. “I love you.”
“Again?”
“I love you.”
The edges of Buck’s smile can be seen behind his palms. “One more time?”
“Are you gonna say it back?” Eddie demands.
Buck scoffs, “I said it first,”
“And I’ve said it more.”
“Are we keeping track now?”
Eddie shrugs easily. “I can count on one hand how many times you’ve said it. I’ve said it at least five times.”
“It’s not a competition,” Buck defends, stepping closer.
Eddie matches him. “If it was, I'd be winning.”
“Well, I love you,” Buck declares. “I love you a lot.”
Eddie steps closer, tipping his head up until they’re sharing the same breath and he looks so smug. “It doesn’t seem like –”
Buck kisses him.
Eddie’s hands latch onto his waist immediately, pressing Buck tighter against the kitchen island as Buck pries his mouth open.
It’s wet and hard and absolutely perfect.
Both of Buck’s hands rise up, one tangling into Eddie’s hair and the other cupping his jaw, his thumb caressing the stubble underneath his ear and Eddie moans at the touch.
They break apart with a slick noise that makes them both blush, and Buck drops his forehead to Eddie’s.
Both of them breathe heavily, like they’ve run a marathon instead of making out in the kitchen, and the knowledge that Eddie is breathing in what Buck breathes out and vice versa makes Buck’s head spin.
“I’m turning around,” Eddie whispers, breaking the silence. “I’m always turning around for you.”
Buck laughs wetly, pressing another kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I can’t believe your son’s history homework made you realize you’re in love with me.”
Eddie laughs too. Buck loves Eddie’s laugh. “He can never know.”
Buck slides the hand in Eddie’s hair to the other side of his jaw, both hands now framing his face. “I really do love you, Eddie,”
“I know you do,” Eddie smiles broadly and the sun from Buck’s windows dances across his face. “I really love you too.”
(Chris does end up finding out, but only because he caught Buck calling Eddie Orpheus when he thought Chris was in the bathroom. Chris thinks Orpheus is dumb all over again.)
(Buck and Eddie will receive a text from Hen later that night, after Chim texts her because Maddie told him after Buck called her back. It’s a picture from yesterday of the two of them asleep in the bunk room. Both of Buck’s arms are wrapped around Eddie’s waist, his face tipped down until it’s partly obscured by Eddie’s hair. Eddie is so tightly pressed to Buck’s front that it is impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. They both look so peaceful.)
(Eddie makes that picture his lock screen.)
(Chris has to show him how.)