Archive of Our Own

Eddie doesn't panic. 

He'd like to say it's just a by product of the job. The prospect of panicking is robbed from you in the military fast and being a first responder leaves no room for nerves when you're the only thing keeping someone safe. But part of Eddie knows it's something sadder than that, that his carnal need to stay collected stems more from him trying to grip onto any sense of control he can.

He's spent most of his life watching it go past him, speeding away whilst he watched helplessly and tried to keep up as challenge after challenge was flung at him. For too long he'd felt the deep pit of regret at every choice he made, like he'd taken a wrong road and ended up somewhere he didn't want to be whilst the exit he wished he taken was just in his periphery.

Whilst his life has never really felt like his, the one thing he knew he could keep constant was himself. Even if things were sprialling out of his control, slipping through his fingers and floating away, he could stay the same. Unshakeable. Hard to ruffle. Never crumbling under the pressure.

Maybe he'd slipped up a few times. Had moments where his body had betrayed him, taken the wheel and said 'you will acknowledge this emotion you repressed idiot' the tears and panic bubbling out of him but for the most part Eddie'd like to say he's been reliably composed.

He's never really done the whole freaking out thing - at least outwardly, the spiralling in his head doesn't count thanks - skipping straight to organising every thought, feeling and event into neat categories that keep things tidy and leave no room for Eddie to overthink. He has a system and there are zero faults and it never violently explodes in his face.

This is why he isn't panicking after waking up from a less than platonic dream about Buck.

He wakes up confused, his t-shirt bunched around his waist, head hanging off the side of his bed and one of his hands tightly clenching the sheets. There's a lingering image of him and Buck walking down the beach, a burning orange and red painting the sky. Chris and Theo had been ahead of them, racing around eachother as him and Buck watched, their hands swinging between them, wound together in a perfect fit. 

Whilst the dream itself is hazy at best, the impression of Buck's fingers slotted between his stays with him, the alignment of their callouses having felt too real.

They've held hands before, not in the simple way, but in the desperate and scared way. In hospital rooms and ambulances and places that were supposed to be safe the feeling of their hands together had become familar. But they'd never done it just because they could, they'd never joined their hands slowly, linking each joint and knuckle with intention, not the way it had felt in his dream.

Which is fine. So fine. It was just a dream and it doesn't mean anything.

Eddie knows their friendship blurs a few lines, that in sharing all the best and worst parts of themselves and their lives they'd gone beyond being just best friends and reached something else entirely. Somewhere along the way they'd learnt to depend on each other, found some semblance of belonging and something reliable. If the world was falling from under their feet they'd still be clutching onto eachother and fighting through it shoulder to shoulder. 

But that's just how they are. BuckandEddie. Which is why Eddie easily brushes the dream aside, catalogues it under 'these are normal things to feel about your best friend so we don't need to think about them again, shush' and moves on.

He gets Chris to school, goes to work, listens to Buck talk endlessly about how amazing Theo is in between every call and doesn't spend any time tracing the shape of Buck's fingers because that would be weird and Eddie isn't even thinking about the dream.

A week later, he has another dream. 

He wakes up as confused as he was the first time, his hand clenched in the sheets of the empty space next to him. It was just as innocuous as the first, a barely there vision of him and Buck in the kitchen their hands tangled on the table whilst he had filled out a crossword and Buck had read something on his phone.

The details of it are vague, but the essence of the dream persists, the warmth and comfort of it following Eddie around as goes about his day trying to ignore how that version of him and Buck had seemed so normal.

Which is a normal thought to have. They're best friends, of course they match up well, even in Eddie's dreams. It is not his subconscious trying to tell him anything. 

He is not going to spend his Saturday morning thinking about it. He's a grown man with errands to run and a teenager to bully out of bed so he files this dream away with the first, keeps it locked away with all the other things he doesn't think about for longer than a second because it doesn't mean anything and dreams are exactly that, dreams. Things that aren't real, just the imagination taking memories and twisting and bending them to be something they're not.

He slides out of bed, his socked feet padding quietly on the wood as he meanders to the kitchen to start making coffee. Because this is a normal morning. One where Eddie isn't panicking about having another dream about him and Buck holding hands. 

Normal.

So normal, that of course, as soon as Eddie's sat down at the kitchen tables his hands curling around his mug - a mug that's covered in cowboys because Buck is a menace who thinks he's funny - there's a commotion outside his door, one he's grown accustomed to hearing in the past few months.

There's the rattle of keys sliding into the door, voices trying and failing to be quiet as feet shuffle into the house, shoes being flung off and then the insistent pattering of someone racing through the halls. Buck's warning shout echoes and then -

"Eddie!" Theo throws himself into Eddie's lap, climbing up the chair to stand on Eddie's thighs and balance his hands on his shoulders. 

"Hey bud, what are you doing here so early?" He directs this to Buck who's made his way to stand in the doorway, a fond smile sitting on his face. His eyes are still shining with their usual energy but there are shadows hiding under the delicate fan of his bottom lashes, there's a small toothpaste stain on the sleeve of his hoodie and there's a crumb nestled in his curls that Eddie's itching to brush away. 

Because he's a good best friend. Obviously.

"Well, we've been awake since five and then we decided we missed Eddie and Chris and had to see them." Buck answers shuffling closer to ruffle the nest of Theo's hair and-

Buck's hand is just there, the strength in each tendon being put away as it slips through the tangle of curls on Theo's head that he'd probably tried to tame this morning. Eddie has the insane thought that he might be jealous of a four year old right now because he has no doubt that a second of Buck's hand in his hair would have him melting.

Which is normal.

He's gonna move past that thought as quickly as possible shifting all his attention to the tornado of energy still squirming in his lap.

He teasingly pokes at Theo, "Missing us, bud?"

Theo ducks his head bashfully looking up at Eddie with wide eyes in the way that makes him look identical to Buck, before nodding frantically.

"You wanna know a secret?" He draws closer, going to whisper in his ear. "I know Chris was missing you too, you should probably go and wake him up so he isn't sad." 

As expected, Theo gasps loudly, jumping off of Eddie and landing with a bang that has him and Buck wincing. He skids on the tile running in the direction of Chris's room screaming wildly about dinosaurs and superheroes long forgetting his prior shyness. 

As soon as Theo's out of sight, no doubt causing mass chaos in Chris's room, Buck lets out a tired sigh sinking into the chair opposite Eddie, stretching his legs out under the table. And, because Buck is ridiculous and made almost entirely of leg, his socked feet brush the backs of Eddie's ankles rubbing against him as he mindlessly as he shuffles around. 

Which is fine.

"Long morning?" 

"He's got therapy in about an hour and it's like his body knows it, he gets all antsy. Took me no less than six and a half different stories last night before he even thought about letting me tuck him in." Buck says with a pout, his shoulders sinking pitifully.

Getting Theo to sleep has been an ongoing challenge. Buck had mournfully recounted how he'd struggled to sleep when he was a kid, how his thoughts had echoed too loudly in his head and his body had ached to just get up and move. Whilst his parents had suggested just closing his eyes, him and Eddie had sat down and read every book on child sleep they could, had spoken extensively to Theo's therapist and tried just about every trick. Even now, it's a delicate routine but Eddie sees how hard Buck's trying, he just wishes he could make Buck see it.

Because Eddie still sees the doubt in Buck's eyes, the uncertainty in his movements, the worry that he's doing things wrong. But the truth is, Eddie knows Buck is doing everything right, because he's not doing this for the first time.

Buck had been there for every complicated night after the tsunami when Chris needed him, had shown up to every school event, dealt with the tantrums and the tears, been there when it counted, not with the answers, but with the unconditional kind of love that only a parent can give.

So Eddie knows, knows that Buck's disbelief in his own capabilities is wrong, he just doesn't know how to make Buck understand it. 

"Better than the meltdown he had last week. You know when he threw his-" 

"Yes, Eddie," Buck groans, "I remember having a cup of water being thrown on my warm and dry clothes, I don't get why you find it so funny." 

Eddie's rewarded to see the defeated slump of Buck's shoulder rising. "I would pay for you to have seen your face, you were so surprised it looked like you were computing."

"It was a shock to the system!" He says indignantly and then, whining with his head in his hands, "That's reminded me the amount of laundry I have to do when we get home, and the kitchen is a mess but Theo's gonna be so overwhelmed when we get back and I really don't wanna disrupt him anymore but I'm also not gonna get the chance to do any of the things I need to do with work tomorrow and-" 

"Woah woah woah," Eddie interjects before Buck can keep talking himself in circles that only end with him disappointed in his inability to do everything at once, "we'll figure it out. I can take Theo to his appointment? Or me and Chris can go to yours and sort the house out? Give us fifteen and we'll be ready to tackle anything, just need to feed Chris first, his stomach is a bottomless pit." 

Eddie gets up, tossing his mug into the sink and taking note of the dazed expression on Buck's face. "You good Buckley?"

Buck shakes his head as though rearranging his thoughts. "Yeah- Yeah um- so good-" and then quietly, "Would you take Theo to therapy? Chris can come with me obviously I just- I think I need a second to just-" 

"Don't have to explain yourself to me." Eddie gives Buck's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he walks past already beelining to his room to get ready. "Besides, this way you have to deal with what a grouch Chris is in the morning."

"He gets that from you!"

He brushes the crumb from Buck's hair before he leaves, Theo precariously sat on his shoulders, because he'd be a bad friend if he let Buck walk around like that.

Three weeks later, and Eddie's had a dream about holding Buck's hand every night.

He'd seen dream versions of them linking pinkies under the table at work, tangling their fingers in the car, lazily entwining their hands whilst watching TV and more than once, dream Eddie had lifted the twist of their hands to trace gentle kisses along Buck's knuckles.

Somewhere, somehow, his treacherous brain had decided 'hey, the PTSD and Catholic guilt isn't enough, here's an identity crisis in your thirties and a bunch of dreams to make you reconsider every interaction you've had with your best friend ever'. 

Not that Eddie's reconsidering anything.

Or at least- he wasn't.

This morning he'd woken up and things had been different. He was used to hazy versions of him and Buck as they went about their usual domestic routines, had almost started to expect those dreams. 

What he wasn't used to was the heat of whatever his head had made up last night, the obscure vision of him and Buck and skin and of course, their hands, linked tightly and pinned to the mattress as dream Buck had-

No. 

Eddie is not doing this. He is being betrayed by his own mind. Again.

Maybe yesterday he had spent significant portion of his afternoon tracing the swell of Buck's arms as he'd tossed Theo in the air but, can you blame him? Buck is just so big there was hardly any other places he could've been looking. And maybe Chris has been giving him looks with his eyebrow raised and the distinct look of 'you're embarassing yourself' but Chris is a teenager, he doesn't know anything.

Whatever may or may not have happened yesterday, Eddie did not deserve to wake up with the image of Buck's obscene arms straining above him still sitting behind his eyes as he realised maybe he couldn't find an excuse for this, that maybe this was something he was going to have to face.

The thought ricochets around his skull and knocking things that Eddie had carefully kept hidden. Memories of longing looks and lingering touches and soft words all falling out of the neat categories Eddie had kept them in, tumbling around and shifting everything he thought he knew.

Does this mean Eddie's acknowledging what this probably all means?

Of course not.

He goes to work like a functioning adult and pretends that he'll think about things properly when he's finished his shift and not still coming to terms with the fact he'd had a dream about Buck where they'd-

No.

Eddie's still not doing this.

He does his job, organises anything that could be organised in the ambulance, electing to ignore Hen's concerned looks. He  runs on the treadmill in some downtime focusing on the pounding of his feet and not the pounding of his heart when Buck starts to lift weights, does a crossword in the loft pretending he's not watching the rhythmic movement of Buck cooking. He doesn't think about anything but what's happening in front of him in the moment not allowing himself to dwell on whatever has been happening in his head for the past mont.

He's still mapping the shape of Buck's back as he moves through the kitchen talking to Harry when Hen takes a seat next to him, jostling his grip on the puzzle book that, at some point, must have started to slip out of his hands.

He frowns at her, "What was that for?" 

"Oh I'm sorry, were you doing that?" Her tone is knowing as she raises an eyebrow at him looking over the top of her glasses. 

"Matter of fact I was." 

"Oh yeah?" She snorts. "What's ten down? Shameless idiot?" 

"I thought you knew me better than this Hen, there's not a part of me that isn't shameful." 

"Don't distract me with self-depricating jokes, what I mean is, maybe you should stop staring at the chef." 

Rude. Rude. Rude. Eddie does not stare, he observes his best friend doing something that makes him happy. Nothing wrong with that.

"I'm not staring at anything." 

"Right." Hen replies slowly. "So I'm imagining you following every move Buck's made all shift?"

"I'm always looking at Buck, that doesn't mean anything." 

That makes Hen pause.

She looks at him consideringly for a a few seconds, eyes darting between his looking for something. Whatever she finds, she's unimpressed, disappointment marring her face ws she lets out an exasperated groan. "Eddie, that isn't the defence you think it is."

Right. So. Looking back, maybe admitting that he watches Buck obsessively wasn't his best idea for getting out of an interrogation from Hen but, he'd tried. "Look, it's just that-"

Saved by the bell.

The shrill ring of the alarm reverberates through the station, the sound of feet racing and shouts of commands filling the previous quiet. He's on his feet before he realises it, muscle memory kicking in as he makes his way to the ambulance.

Hen's not far behind him, swinging into her seat. "Don't think you're getting away with this." She says as they speed away, sirens whirring and lights flashing. 

He gives her a cheeky grin, all teeth and crinkled eyes. "I don't know what you mean." 

This is what he needs. A distraction he can throw himself into where the situation is bigger than him. On calls, he can momentarily forget the knot of his thoughts, focus all his attention on the person in front him and the safety of his team, not the mess of whatever is spiralling in his head. 

He'd a bit guilty about gaining some semblance of calm from what is oftentimes the worst day of someone else's life but he knows the rest of the team are the same. That in the broken pieces of their pasts and the chaos of their lives, their work is an escape. A chance to become more than what's happened to them. They can just be the people who help, the people who care, the people who try. 

They arrive at the scene of a minor fire of a cafe, smoke circling in a small cloud and a crowd of shaken but mostly safe victims. By the time him and Hen are parked he can see Buck and Ravi already running into the building. He trails the back of Buck's turnouts until they disappear behind the door. 

And Ravi's. Obviously.

Him and Hen make their way through the mindless task of checking airways and cleaning scrapes trading places seamlessly and switching tools without looking. It's smooth sailing, a precautionary call at best, Buck and Ravi having already cleared the building and meandering around. As soon as him and Hen are finished, they'll be gone. That is of course unless Eddie finds a way to cause a disaster. 

Let it be known that the chance of getting a concussion whilst treating a minor burn is slim but never zero. 

He's crouched at the feet of a young barista when the sound of something racing towards him builds. Someone's shouting and then abruptly, he feels the sharp and unfortunately familiar feeling of shooting pain flooding through the back of his head. Nausea rushes through his body, his weight tipping precariously as he slides downwards and ringing rebounds through his skull. 

He can just makes out the sound of panicked voices and the buzzing of radios when his vision finally clears. He's slumped on the side of the sidewalk against someone's shoulder, his patient being ushered out of the way as Hen's worried face starts to assess him. 

"You with us?"

"I'm fine." He tries to make it sound normal but it escapes him in a breathless wheeze that has Hen frantically checking the back of his head.

The shoulder he's leaning against rises and falls as the person let's out a resigned sign. "Only you would claim to be fine after being knocked out." 

Buck. 

Of course it is.

"Knocked out?" 

"Someone's stroller went careening into the back of your head," Buck huffs, "you're seriously a magent for ridiculous situations." 

"Don't think that's really fair coming from you," he replies. 

Eddie has the distinct feeling he should be at least a bit concerned about the fact Hen is still insistently prodding at him, but he's had enough training to know he's probably got a simple concussion. The way his vision is swimming and everything feels faintly foggy has him thinking this might be the kind of concussion that throws your brain a few centimetres to the left and has the whole world tilted slightly wrong but he'll survive.

Hen takes one final look over his head before deciding he can safely be transported in his slightly delirious state to the hospital for a final check. Buck's already on his feet starting to help Eddie up, he slides one hand onto Eddie's shoulder and uses the other to grab Eddie's hand and-

Somehow, every dream he's been haunted by for the past month hadn't prepared him for the real thing. Buck's hand is slightly smaller than his, his palm wider but his fingers shorter and their knuckles slot together seamlessly like the satisfying click of the final puzzle piece being put into place. Buck's guiding him to the back of the ambulance but all he can focus on is how perfect the pale of Buck's skin looks next to the tan of his as they keep holding hands, not the way he dreamed it, slow and thoughtful, but holding hands nonetheless.

It's all that's running through his head. Even through the checks at the hospital, and the drive home with Buck sat next to him, and when Buck walks him to the door making him promise to call if he needs anything. It's not just a dream anymore, it's real, it's a memory something that a really happened. They held hands, they didn't even really need to but they did and Eddie-

He's still not thinking about it.

Maybe he just finds Buck attractive. 

That's normal. Or at least it feels more manageable than the thing that Eddie is still not thinking about. Buck is - objectively - attractive, has always turned a few heads regardless of where he was. Eddie - from a purely objective stand point - gets it. Buck's all broad shoulders and long legs towering over people and taking up space, his eyes are magnetic in their lightness, his smiles warm and wide and some people might say they're soft in the way they make you feel seen. Not in the way that feels exposing but in the way that makes you feel like you're worth something.

Not that Eddie's saying that. He's just saying, he has a conventionally attractive best friend, even though he's sort of always been aware of it, in light of recent dreams, Eddie is really starting to be aware of it. 

Maybe too aware.

He keeps dreaming of him and Buck and now, innocent things are starting to make him flustered. Stupid things. Trivial things. 

Buck grabbing something from a high shelf and not even needing to lean up, Buck easily parking the jeep in even the most inconvenient of places, Buck baking a loaf of bread.

Eddie's ashamed to admit he'd nearly crushed his locker door when he saw Buck tying his shoelaces which is just ridiculous because it was so ordinary. But Eddie couldn't bring it in him to take his eyes away instead letting them linger over the stretch of Buck's shoulders in his uniform, the way his fingers deftly tied matching bows and the pleased smile in the corner of his mouth. 

Things are really getting out of hand because Eddie knows he's been sporting an embarrassing blush more than he hasn't been but everything about Buck is just so captivating.

Even the way he snores like a chainsaw directly into Eddie's ear canal doesn't put him off.

Eddie really should've seen the evening ending the way it has. They'd had a draining shift that day and the moment he and Chris had shown up to Buck's for dinner Eddie had noticed the exhaustion clinging to Buck's frame, the fatigue in his usually vigorous movements. It was like even Theo had noticed it, he'd been uncharacteristically quiet, happy to sit with Christopher whilst he did his homework pulling the same Legos apart and putting the back together repetitively.

After an only slightly painful bed time Theo had settled and Chris had disappeared to the spare room that's essentially his to play some complicated game Eddie doesn't understand with his friends. Him and Buck had stayed sprawled next to eachother in the dark of the living room passively watching some documentary they'd already seen millions of times the murmur of it gentle. 

Eddie had just been about to tell Buck they would go and let him get some sleep when Buck's head had started drooping. His eyes were shut, his mouth open and he'd swayed once, then twice before landing on Eddie's shoulder.

There was no way Eddie could move after that. 

Now, Buck looks peaceful, his face smooth and free of any tension as his breath caresses the base of Eddie's neck. There's the slightest bit of drool on Eddie's t-shirt and Buck is snoring so loudly yet Eddie feels nothing but endeared. 

He should probably feel vaguely disgusted, maybe even trapped considering the giant using him as a pillow but all Eddie feels is calm. And it's not the kind of calm where he's convincing himself everything's fine, it's the calm that makes him feel weightless, that makes him feel like things are far simpler than his head is making them out to be, that makes him feel grounded.

Buck's hair is tickling at Eddie with every rise and fall of his chest and Eddie wants with a wild fierceness to run his fingers through the curls. He lifts a shaking hands to brush through the spirals laying on Buck's forehead, twirls his fingers through them and watches mesmerised as they spring back into place. Somehow, Buck shuffles closer, nestling his face into the space between Eddie's neck and shoulder, letting his weight fully lean on Eddie with a content hum.

He knows Buck likes having his hair played with, he'd confessed it years ago when they'd still barely known each other, raving about how the best way to get him to relax was to wind a hand through his hair. So he keeps going, happy to finally see Buck resting, gently scratches his nails along Buck's scalp in a soothing back and forth pattern. 

He's entranced by it, the repetitive motion of his hand disappearing into silky curls and reappearing again. All he really wants to do is lay his head on top of Buck's, let himself sink into the bubble that seems to exist in this room but then-

"Seriously?" Chris says with a disbelieving whisper. He's standing in front of them, an exasperated look on his face and like this, he reminds Eddie of a disapproving parent walking into something they wish they hadn't seen. "You two are so embarrassing." 

"What?" Eddie's not sure what's he's doing to justify the level of teenage sass currently being directed at him.

"All the lovey dovey stuff, we get it, you're obsessed with eachother." 

Eddie doesn't really know what's happening right now and he must show his bewilderment because Chris starts raising an unimpressed brow at him. "Are we still doing the whole pretending I don't know thing?" 

Eddie is so confused. "Buddy, I have no clue what you're talking about." 

Chris stares at him for a few terrifying seconds before letting out another, but more incredulous whisper of, "Seriously?" 

Eddie cannot emphasise enough how confused he is right now.

"You're telling me, all of this," Chris gestures at the tangle of him and Buck on the catch, "and you two still aren't together?" 

Eddie lets out a shaky breath. "What?" 

"Oh my god you're serious. Dad, what the hell, when are you gonna catch up and see what's right in front of you?" He sounds so much like Buck when he says it, all indignant and confused trying his best to untangle Eddie's thought process but, the way he looks. He looks just like Shannon, so much so it leaves an ache in his chest, not the way it would have before but an ache all the same. 

Chris looks exactly the same as she did when she was fighting to remind him where home was, fighting to teach him that home shouldn't be awkward conversations and lifeless rooms, that it should be laughter and happiness and fighting yet always coming back together and having the things you want close but the people you want even closer and-

Oh.

Oh.

Well shit. Turns out the thing to force him to see what he was refusing to was his own child verbally slapping him in the face with it alongside Shannon somehow finding a way to hold him accountable the way she always did.

"Tell me you aren't realising things right now."

"Uh- I think we need to go home and have a conversation about all this, go grab your stuff."

Chris starts collecting his things with a skeptical look on his face but at least he still has some sense of respect for him. With great reluctance, Eddie shuffles out from underneath Buck cradling his head and slowly placing it on the back of the couch. 

Buck grumbles lightly, shuffling slightly. "Eds?" 

Eddie is so fond of this man it's probably concerning. The rumble of his voice spills out his throat and worms it's way through Eddie's being, something warm moving down his spine and into his heart.

"Me and Chris are heading home okay? Make sure you get to bed."

"Mhm, good night," Buck murmurs already halfway back to falling asleep.

Eddie takes one final look at him before he leaves, the way his eyes are compulsively drawn to Buck starting to make sense. Every moment he'd kept catalogued away is coming back in sharp focus as he drives, moments that should've made things obvious, feelings too intense for Eddie to have played them off the way he did. It's a bit embarrassing actually, the way he'd rewritten things to avoid the truth.

When he gets home, he's still thinking about it.

Right.

So.

Eddie might be a little bit in love with Buck.

After an enlightening and humiliating conversation with Chris it seem possible he has been for years. In all his denial, he might actually be the last one to know this. He'd called his sisters when he'd gotten home, frantically asked if they knew he's been in love with Buck all along and they'd laughed.

They'd thought he was joking.

All's to say, Eddie's had some rather life altering revelations. He's not just a little bit in love with Buck, he's in love with Buck in the all consuming way, in the way that has Eddie feeling it flow through his body travelling in his veins. To top it all off, last night he'd had another dream about him and Buck, hands woven together.

This time, they had matching rings.

Eddie's not panicking, it's just that his brain has pulled an alarm and things up there are getting hectic, thoughts he'd ignored breaking through his carefully constructed walls and out the categories he'd forced them into. Eddie had taken Chris to school in complete and total stupor earning him a slightly concerned look from Chris as he asked if he'd broken him. 

Now, Eddie's pacing back and forth in the kitchen, his phone sat on the table because, he isn't panicking, he really isn't, but he knows that if he were to be there's only one person he'd call.

Realistically, it's not like he can call Buck about this, not without all of it spilling out of his mouth because truthfully, now that Eddie's consciously aware of what his feelings mean, the words are just sitting in his ribs begging to be let out like they know that Buck deserves to be loved loudly. 

Eddie's sure his heart is screaming at him, to tell Buck everything sure, but also to warn him of some nonexistent threat, beating with a violence that has him feeling the thrum of its pulses in his head. His hands are shaking, he realises, from where they're resting on his hips and things are alarmingly starting to feel like they running away from him-

He calls Buck.

It rings once, twice and then a worried, "Hello?" 

There are an endless amount of things Eddie could say right now, a greeting, a how are you, anything that will reassure Buck he's fine. Of course what Eddie runs with is a hasty, "I don't panic!" 

Buck takes a deep breath. "Right." 

"That doesn't sound like you believe me." 

"No, no I believe you. You don't panic." The pause he takes feels intentional. "But..." 

"But I'm kind of freaking out." 

"I'm on my way, I just dropped Theo off so it'll probably be about ten. Stay on the phone with me yeah?" Now that Buck's mentioned it, Eddie can make out the mechanical whirring of the jeep, the sounds of honking that is all too common in LA traffic and the faint sound of Buck's playlist. The world is spinning on the way it always does, meanwhile Eddie is having what some might call a minor breakdown in his kitchen.

Not that he's panicking or anything.

"Can I run a purely hypothetical situation by you?"

He is about to do something stupid though.

"Of course." 

There's only ever been one person that's always listened to Eddie's woes and understood them like they're easy, even through his half words and twisted sentences. There's only one person Eddie wants advice from right now, even if this isn't something Eddie should be going to Buck for. 

"Let's say, I've been having dreams about my best friend." This is so, so stupid, Eddie knows it's stupid. He's still doing it. "Dreams that aren't exactly uh- friendly." 

Suddenly, Buck's choking, spluttering over his words. "What?" 

"Oh shit, not like that. Well- technically- Wait, no, no. Mostly just silly things like holding hands or whatever."

"Or whatever," Buck says sounding winded.

"And I," Eddie stops, clearing his throat awkwardly, "I don't really know what to do about it, cause it's been like over a month-" 

"A month?" Buck squawks, so loudly the words get stuck in the speakers, turning static and crackled.

"In an entirely hypothetical situation? Nearly two months," he admits quietly. "There's a pretty high chance there's some feelings there that I'd been ignoring for a while and I'm- I'm scared." 

"Okay." Buck seems to be trying to pull himself together. "Nearly two months. That's- fine. Oh my god. And- feelings- Jesus. Okay."

This is a mess. This is the worst idea Eddie's ever had and now Buck is definitely panicking. 

"It's fine. I just needed your help I guess cause I don't really know how to get over this guy-" 

"Get over- Eddie I really need you to stop talking until I get there because this is- this is insane and you're moving through this way too fast. You've been dreaming about me for months?" 

When he says it like that, Buck's shock seems much more justified. "In a totally hypothetical situation. Because if this was real, I would've handled this in a much better way but I-" 

"Panicked?"

"I don't panic," he insists, even though his broken breaths have been filling Buck's car this entire time.

"Right, my bad." 

"I'm serious."

"I know you are and, since you don't panic I'm just letting you know I'm two minutes away so-"

"Two minutes?" It comes out rattled and far too exposing.

"Two minutes," Buck confirms. Eddie's sure if he was in the car, he'd be seeing Buck exaggeratedly nodding his head up and down like a bobble head.

Two minutes. 

Fantastic.

All too soon, Eddie can hear the sound of a car pulling up to the house, a door slamming and then echoing around the kitchen, the resolute sound of Buck hanging up. Eddie waits for the sound of Buck's keys jangling in the door, the tune of it the same as it always is but, it doesn't come.

Five minutes later, Eddie's still standing in his kitchen like an idiot.

He cautiously makes his way to the door, steps feeling heavy, steeling himself when he reaches the door that he knows Buck is hiding behind instead of letting himself in the way he always does. 

Eddie should probably wait, let Buck have a moment but he's really not running at his usual capacity the minute, any common sense having left him the moment he woke up this morning so he swiftly tears the door open. It bangs against the wall with the force Eddie uses, the sharp crack reverberating through the hall leaving him and Buck engaging in the worlds most pathetic stand off.

"Hi," Buck says shakily. He looks- well, he looks terrified, something manic swirling through his eyes as they dart between Eddie's. "Sorry, I've been standing here like an absolute creep, I just-" 

"Panicked?" 

"You know what," Buck says, finally walking into the house, "yes. I panicked and I'm willing to admit it unlike this other guy I know. You wouldn't happen to know him would you? Same guy who had a crisis with me over the phone?" 

"Right. I did do that." 

"You did." Something in Buck's face changes then, something soft taking over his features. "What's going on Eddie?" 

In Eddie's state of stress - because it was not panic - he hadn't really stopped to think about what would happen after he called Buck. He'd naively thought maybe Buck would let it go which, was a ridiculous assumption to make in reality. Now, Eddie isn't just going to have acknowledge the feelings in his head, he's probably going to have to talk about them because now every fibre of his being is desperate to let the words fall from his lips. 

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Ignoring the problem it is. He turns his back and heads to the kitchen sticking his head into the fridge and scanning the pitiful shelves consisting of leftovers and open cartons of juice for a way to escape this conversation.

"A drink- what? Eddie," Buck stutters, slipping off his shoes to follow Eddie.

"I bought this new juice-" 

"Eddie." 

"We should try it-" 

"Eddie, I swear to god-" 

"Chris said he had it on-" 

Eddie blinks and then Buck's there, crossing into his space and shutting the fridge door with one hand. He then pushes Eddie to turn around giving him no choice but to look at him and the firey determination that's taken over the old uncertainty in his eyes. 

"We're talking about this."

Eddie, still recovering from the display of strength Buck had shown, the way he'd manhandled him like it was easy, can only nod.

Buck thankfully moves away hopping onto the counter - which honestly might be worse for Eddie's wellbeing because how can Buck look like that - and Eddie leans onto the fridge behind him, arms crossed like that's going to do anything to protect him.

Maybe, if he just stands there silently, Buck will get tired of waiting and drop it and then Eddie can pretend to live in a world where there isn't happening. 

"You know talking involves words leaving your mouth right?"

Wishful thinking.

"Yes Buck, I'm familiar with the concept." 

"Just checking cause you're not really giving me much to work with here." 

Eddie takes a deep breath, what's he suppose to say? I'm in love with you and I only realised it after the child we've been raising together told me. Not a chance. "I don't really know where to start," he confesses.

"Why don't you start with the uh- dreams?" 

Eddie groans, banging his head behind him. "Do I have to?" 

"You are such a child. If you don't like that idea, why don't you just start talking?" Eddie can't even blame Buck for losing some of his composure, if Eddie had to do this conversation with himself he probably would've already put a fist through a wall.

"I- okay. Okay, I'm gonna just- say something and I- I need you not to freak out, okay?" 

Let it be known, Eddie has no idea what he's going to say but if he stands here as Buck tries his best to be patient and supportive, all earnest grin and wide eyes, Eddie's going to do something drastic.

"Cause you've done a great job at reassuring me there's nothing to be freaking out about so far." 

"Buck."

"Sorry," he says sheepishly, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise I'll try not to freak out."

Eddie takes an unnaturally deep breath, his shoulder rising and falling with the movement. "You already know about the um- the dreams and I don't even really wanna get into it cause it's- it's the tip of the iceberg. I just- they maybe should've given me a bit of warning sign actually for everything that followed."

"Okay..." Buck says slowly. "So if we're not talking about the dreams, which we're absolutely going to at some point by the way, what about the-"

"The what Buck?" It's not like Buck to stop himself around Eddie, to take the train of his thoughts and bring them to a grinding halt.

"The feelings." 

Uh oh. 

Eddie feels something like dread crawl up his spine and take home in his chest, he doesn't remember saying anything about feelings. In fact, he can't really remember much of what he said in the phone at all.

"Did I say something about feelings?" His voice breaks embarrassing in the middle of the word feelings, the vowels going high and erratic.

"Pretty sure you did, right before you said something about getting over the guy you've been dreaming about."

This is much worse than Eddie thought it was. He is possibly the biggest idiot to walk the earth, how could he forget saying any of these things. "Oh" 

"And just to be clear, this guy, from the totally hypothetical situation is- is me?" 

"Buck, I am so sorry, I didn't even realise what I was saying I was just-" 

"Panicking?" 

Eddie would disagree, purely on principal, but Buck's probably losing his patience with all of Eddie's riddles and nonsense. "Maybe." 

"Eddie, trust me, you have no reason to panic. Just- just say the thing we've been avoiding cause I think I know what we're talking about but I also think that, for your sake, you need to say it."

"Buck, I-" Buck gives him an encouraging smile, something small and tucked away but something soothing all the same. "I'm in love with you."

Buck's face drops.

His eyes are comically wide, his mouth open in a perfect 'o' shape. He'd be a perfect statue if it wasn't for the twitching of his left eye. 

"Why do you look like that?" Eddie asks frantically, he is so lost.

"Like what?" 

"Like you're freaking out! You told me you knew what I was talking about!" This is somehow getting worse. How is this getting worse?

"I- I thought you were coming out to me!" 

"Buck, what the hell?" 

"Oh I'm sorry, was I supposed to anticipate a love confession?" Buck sounds incredulous now, he's waving his hands in huge arcs, swaying them with each word.

"The dreams were about you, I know you know that, and then I- oh my god Buck I was so obvious. I was talking about feelings for god's sake." 

"I thought you meant gay feelings, not love feelings! I thought maybe you'd gotten confused and I'd been in the dreams because of- I don't know, proximity."

"Jesus Christ Buck," Eddie exclaims, clenching his hands in his hair. This might be the worst conversation they've had in this kitchen and they've had some horrible ones. He's going to have to redecorate just so he never has to look at his cupboards and be reminded of this. 

Eddie closes his eyes in defeat, tilting his head back until the crown of his head hits the fridge door with a gentle thud. He's accepted his fate, happy to wait in silence until Buck takes pity on him and leaves him to recover. 

That is until Buck let's out a mistified whisper of, "Holy shit."

Eddie opens his eyes, quickly zoning in on Buck, still perched on the counter but now looking directly at Eddie. 

"Holy shit," he repeats.

What the fuck is happening?

"Eddie. You're in love with me."  Buck points at him, ignoring the visible grimace on Eddie's face. 

"Yep." 

Buck points at himself now. "And I'm in love with you." 

If Eddie thought he was lost before then he's in the middle of another universe right now. One where, apparently, Eddie hears the things he wants to hear.

"Buck, what the fuck are you talking about?" 

Buck hops down from his spot, a bounce in his step as he once again crowds Eddie into the fridge. He still can't handle it, can already feel a flush rising from his neck to the tips of his ears. "We're in love with eachother. We," Buck waggles his finger between the two of them, "are in love."

Holy shit. 

He gets why Buck had sounded so stupified before. Eddie's body feels weightless suddenly, kind of feels like it's floating into another dimension all together whilst his physical self stays rooted to the spot looking up at Buck with sheer astonishment and probably humiliating heart eyes. 

"Holy shit." 

"I know." 

"Buck-" 

"I know." 

"We-" 

"I know." 

They sound a bit insane, saying the same words over and over again but Eddie doesn't care. He's not sure he can remember the last time he felt this happy, a gleeful smile rises on his face, wide enough to match Buck's.

"We're so stupid," Eddie gets out through a disbelieving laugh.

Buck shrugs. "We got there eventually." 

They're both speechless for a second just taking eachother in, gazes skating across familiar features helplessly, relearning the way their faces fall now that they both know. Eddie drags his eyes from Buck's faint freckles, the tops of his ears, the charming shape of his birthmark, the stray curl on his forehead that Eddie is desperate to push back.

Which is maybe something he can do now.

Eddie slowly lifts a hand, draws it up as Buck watches its movements. Warily, Eddie slides a hand into Buck's hair, combing the loose curl backwards as he studies, transfixed, by the way the morning sun turns it golden.

Buck sighs softly, leaning into Eddie's ministrations and that's all the permission Eddie needs, his hand drifting lower to cup Buck's cheek. He rests his other hand in the space on Buck's shoulder that it belongs in, rubs a thumb back and forth in the ridges of his collarbones before trailing it downwards. It glides across sculpted muscles, the delicate bone of a wrist and then, finally, Eddie's entwining their fingers the way he's been craving, their callouses lining up perfectly.

Buck squeeze their hands, uses his others to squeeze at Eddie's waist. His eyes are suspiciously watery, droplets clinging to his lashes and Eddie's sure he looks the same. 

Gradually, so gradually Eddie hardly notices it, Buck leans in, keeps going until there lips are meeting in a soft kiss. It's gentle, Eddie humming into it and feeling safe, warmth flooding through him. He pushes in, only slightly, moulding the kiss into something deeper but keeping it slow, something deliberate in every press, intentions clear every time they touch. 

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls back, places a series of pecks on Buck's lips in response to his disappointed whine and rests his forehead against Buck's, their breaths mingling. 

"I love you." The words taste sweet in his mouth. He makes a promise to himself to make the shape of the words familiar, promises he'll say them as many times as possible now that he knows he can. 

"I love you," Buck responds easily, adoration evident in his voice. 

Eddie gives into the want simmering under his skin, grabs Buck by the shoulder and pulls until he can place a reverent kiss on his birthmark. Eddie's delighted by the way Buck's face blooms pink, a pink he hides in Eddie's neck.

"This is crazy," he murmurs.

"The craziest," Eddie agrees winding his arms around Buck's shoulders. 

"I love you so much. Just- just in case that wasn't clear."

"Me too Buck, me too."

For a while, Eddie has peace.

"You ever gonna tell me about those dreams?" 

Eddie groans loudly.

"As long as you explain to me why you're reaction to me coming out was going to be whatever that was earlier." 

"Eddie," Buck whines. "You try having your best friend, who you're in love, tell you something that suggests they're not straight even though, minutes before, you would've bet actual money on their straightness." 

Eddie thinks back to a conversation from years ago, the plummet in his stomach and the words 'this doesn't change a thing between us'. "Been there bud."

Buck pulls back from his hiding spot. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Buck grumbles, goes back to nestling himself in Eddie's neck, placing a few kisses there. "I guess I panicked."

Eddie knows the feeling.