Archive of Our Own

Buck woke up and his head was pounding. Actually, his whole skull—jesusfuckingchrist—it was like his brain was about to explode. But in waves. Painful, throbbing, terrible waves. Ow. And his mouth—shit, he was so thirsty. His mouth felt like it was full of sand. But, like, furry sand. Like a small woodland creature had died a terrible death in a desert, and its carcass ended up in his mouth somehow.

That made no sense—and also, gross. His stomach was roiling, his muscles tight and alcohol-heavy, and his head was killing him. Buck remembered… drinks. Shots. Ugh, so many shots. Why did they have that many shots—and more importantly, how many, exactly, was that many? He remembered Chimney not showing up, so eventually everyone else had left, and then he and Eddie… And where had those other people come from…?

His memories of last night were pretty fuzzy—which, y’know. That probably had something to do with the ungodly amount of shots and whatever else they’d consumed. And—oh no. Speaking of, he might be about to puke, actually.

Buck tried to roll onto his side—and several things happened in rapid succession.

First of all, he couldn’t. Because someone was, uh—sleeping next to him? No, on him. On his chest. His—someone was cuddling him. Yeah, okay. That wasn’t so bad. It felt kinda nice, if he was being honest.

But wait… hadn’t Tommy left? Riiiiight. Because he’d been on stand-by for the night, which had been a little disappointing, admittedly. But…

Buck’s whole body tensed up suddenly, panic hitting him like a lightning strike—sharp and zigzagging, nauseatingly fast, straight into the pit of his stomach. (There was a joke there somewhere about how he’d know what that was like, but he was too hungover to be funny right now.) He blinked his eyes open, ignored the ice pick-pick-pick of pain thrumming through his skull, and lifted his head to look.

Horrifically, he was naked. Very, very naked. And so was—Eddie.

Oh, thank fuck. It was just Eddie.

He let his head drop back onto the carpet with a dull thump. Naturally, that was a huge mistake, since pain shot through his brainstem like a firework in reverse. But he was so goddamn relieved he barely even minded. Just—for a second there, he’d really thought he’d made an orbital mistake last night. But it was Eddie, so it was fine.

Subconsciously, he tightened the arm that was apparently draped around Eddie’s waist, while his other hand scrubbed down his face, rubbing at his temple and eyes to lessen the pain. Unsurprisingly, that did nothing—and then Eddie shifted against him, groaning softly into Buck’s neck as he began to come to—and that redirected Buck’s attention real fast. Because—well, they were naked. And Eddie’s thigh was almost—ahem. You know.

And they were naked.

Oh.

Buck’s eyes snapped open.

“Eddie.”

Shit, his throat was so dry, he barely recognized his voice. It was super hoarse and sort of cracked around the edges.

Eddie stirred again, groaning louder as he buried his nose against the steady thrum of Buck’s pulse, his face adorably scrunched. And Buck kind of—he didn’t—he could barely breathe for a second because... that noise. It echoed inside Buck’s brain—scratching, itching, raw.

Suddenly, other memories came flooding back. Different ones.

Dancing. Drinking. And then... Eddie had already been shirtless, for some reason? And they'd been alone in the hotel room, like, Buck had no clue when or where the others had gone. There might’ve been a small fire, at some point? But maybe that was after…? It didn’t really matter because Buck was touching—for the first time, he could—taut muscles and mouth-watering, tanned skin. Miles and miles of skin. Smooth, and hot, and so, so delicious. He could—he was kissing, licking, biting—everywhere. And then—and then he was being kissed, licked, bitten. Oh fuck. All over. And—hands. Oh, Eddie’s hands—how many times—grasping, gripping, sp-spreading. Buck, uh… he was pretty sure he’d been under Eddie on the floor. Getting ravished by Eddie’s tongue, and Eddie’s—

Oh my God.

Had they…?

They had.

Sex.

Fuck. How could Buck be so stupid?

“Eddie,” he croaked again, panic edging every syllable.

It had to be a testament to how attuned they were to each other—how they could tell, from tone alone, when the other was in trouble or freaking the fuck out—because Eddie actually opened his eyes and pushed himself up with a grunt, squinting down at Buck blearily.

“What’s wrong?” he slurred.

And—and Eddie’s fingers were splayed across Buck’s chest, Buck’s heart jackhammering right underneath his palm. Buck’s face had to be either redder than a firetruck or white as a sheet. He didn’t think there was a less severe option. And he had no idea how to tell Eddie—how—what words.

How do you tell your straight best friend that the two of you had drunk sex and possibly ruined three relationships in one fell swoop? How do you do that without making him hate you?

“Buck?” Eddie’s brow furrowed when Buck stayed silent, frozen in place. He searched Buck’s face, concern etched across his own—and that just made Buck flush harder.

Then, as though searching for context clues, Eddie’s gaze slowly trailed downward—first to their bare chests, then lower still, to the rest of them. The, uh—yeah. Still very naked tangle of limbs on full display.

His eyes widened, snapping back to Buck’s blue ones questioningly. But even before he could ask—maybe even demand an answer—Buck saw it happen. The moment it all came back to him.

Last night.

They stared at each other in stunned silence, Buck’s heartbeat still pounding beneath Eddie’s hand. Eddie went rigid above him, and Buck didn’t dare move a muscle. He couldn’t even look away—could barely focus on getting air into his lungs.

The silence between them felt heavy, too quiet and unbearably loud all at once. Like the room itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what they would do next.

“Shit,” Eddie breathed.

Buck deflated, his whole body going slack. His hand slipped from Eddie’s waist like a puppet with cut strings.

“Yeah.”

Eddie pushed himself up completely, moving away. Buck should have felt relieved—and he did, a little. But more than that, he felt exhausted, guilty, and honestly, just plain awful. He was also so fucking afraid that he’d unwittingly ruined his friendship with Eddie for good this time.

Buck sat up too, staring at Eddie’s back as Eddie looked around for their clothes. The hotel room was completely trashed, which was going to take a sizable chunk out of Buck’s savings account—but he didn’t care about that. He barely noticed.

He didn’t have a great track record with hook-ups. Historically, every person he’d slept with had eventually left him.

His throat seized at the possibility that Eddie might be next.

“Hey.” He coughed lightly as his voice cracked, trying to swallow down the nervousness. “You okay?”

Eddie stilled for a moment, and Buck almost flinched. He looked away when Eddie finally found his discarded pants and started pulling them on.

“Don’t feel great. But I’ll live,” Eddie replied eventually. He didn’t sound upset, exactly—but he didn’t sound like anything at all, either. Buck couldn’t gauge what was going on in his head, which was bad in itself.

“Do you remember…?” Eddie asked carefully.

“Some of it,” Buck said quickly, cheeks flaming. “You?”

Eddie hesitated. He never hesitated.

“Me too.”

Buck nodded warily, not sure what else to say. He thought he remembered most of that particular, uh… part of the night, actually, with only a few fuzzy blanks. But he wasn’t brave enough to admit that just yet—or maybe ever, depending on how he and Eddie even… if they ever talked about what happened.

They should. Buck thought they really should, and he wanted to. But that wasn’t his call alone to make, and he honestly wouldn't know how to start anyway.

He stood up on wobbly legs, gripping the back of the sofa for balance. His eyes scanned the room for his own clothes while also deliberately avoiding Eddie, just trying to give him some space.

Thankfully, his boxers and pants weren’t hard to find, scattered across the floor near where he and Eddie had fallen asleep. Buck yanked them on, even though the pants were completely ruined by multiple wine stains and other marks he’d really rather not name. Then he looked around for his shirt but couldn’t see it anywhere.

“Here,” Eddie said, his voice rough.

Buck turned to see him holding out the shirt, waiting for him to take it.

“Thanks.” Buck reached for it and pulled the stained fabric over his head in one motion. It looked just as bad as the pants, but all of his other clothes were at a different hotel where the wedding was going to—

Oh shit, what time was it? The wedding hadn’t started yet, right? He needed to find his phone.

Eddie already had his—also pretty much ruined, ugh—suit jacket on from the party, but his shirt was gone, except for the collar still fastened around his neck. Buck would’ve loved to ask about that. But there were more pressing issues at the moment.

“Have you seen our phones?”

“I’ll find them,” Eddie offered, probably sensing the slightly panicked edge creeping back into Buck’s voice. “You just go wake up Chimney.”

Chimney, right. Fuck.

Buck had totally forgotten about him.

Was Chimney still asleep? Buck had lived with the guy for months during quarantine—Chim was an early riser, and he definitely wouldn’t sleep in on his wedding day.

But his tux was still hanging on the bedroom door, and when Buck opened it, the bed was perfectly made. No one had slept in it.

Which, now that he thought about it, made perfect sense. They’d been pretty loud last night.

“Eddie…” Buck called, puzzled. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

Where the hell was Chimney?

In the end, they could only find Eddie’s phone—Buck had either lost his at the club or it was still somewhere back in the hotel room—and the battery was, of course, dead.

Charging it in the car was taking fucking forever, so Buck tried to focus on driving, because they were already fifteen minutes late to the wedding, they had no idea where the groom was, and he’d slept with Eddie. He’d cheated on his boyfriend with his best friend, and he might’ve even liked it.

Oh, who was he fucking kidding? He liked it. Of course he did. It was a terrible thing to admit, but how could he not when it was—it was Eddie.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Forget Maddie killing him—which was definitely going to happen once Buck told her he’d lost her fiancé. But honestly? He might just do it himself first.

Eddie hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten in the car. He was just sitting there in the passenger seat, staring into the middle distance and clutching the bottle of water they’d snagged from the hotel lobby like a lifeline.

Buck, meanwhile, was white-knuckling the steering wheel and doing his best not to speed, even though all he wanted to do was ignore every speed limit and floor it. But he wasn’t quite that reckless. Well, not anymore.

He had to say something. Eddie wasn’t going to—and that was fair. Out of the two of them, this had to be a bigger shock for Eddie. Buck at least knew he liked men.

For all he knew, Eddie might be disgusted by what had happened between them. Okay, no. Probably not disgusted. Buck would know if Eddie was disgusted. He would know.

Just—he was trying very hard not to spiral here.

Because he couldn’t lose Eddie.

Losing Eddie would mean losing his best friend. His partner. The person he could count on to have his back, no matter what—and Eddie could count on him, too. It’d mean losing Christopher. And Buck loved that kid so much. He seriously loved him like he was his own.

The Diaz boys were his favorite people in the world. They were his people. Buck had no idea what he’d do without them in his life, and he’d already come pretty close to finding out once, during the stupid lawsuit. He still remembered what it felt like—being at odds with Eddie. How Eddie being mad at him had torn him up inside.

Buck didn’t need a repeat performance. He had to make this right before it was too late.

“I’m sorry,” he started softly, turning to Eddie once they’d stopped at a red light. “I’m really sorry, Eddie. I don’t—I know that you and Marisol are serious. And Eddie—you have to know I’d never deliberately do anything to mess with that. Or screw up our friendship.”

“I know,” Eddie replied. His eyes flicked toward Buck, then back to the windshield. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I feel like I do,” Buck insisted, just a little louder now. “You—look, I don’t know exactly how it started. I think we were on the couch, and then it gets a little fuzzy. Next thing I remember, we were already, uh… kissing. And you don’t—I mean, you’re not the drunken-hook-up-with-your-best-friend type of guy. You’re not even the casual sex type. So I’m assuming—”

“What?” Eddie cut in gruffly. “That you should apologize because you might’ve started it?”

“Well—yeah.” Buck gave a small, self-deprecating shrug. “Wouldn’t be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”

Eddie sighed deeply and dragged a hand over his face. He muttered something under his breath—Spanish, probably, judging by the rhythm—though it was too low for Buck to catch. Then he gestured vaguely at Buck’s leg.

“Your pant leg caught on fire from a cigarette butt,” he explained dryly. “So I helped you take it off, and we put it out in the champagne bucket. Then we started laughing… and I kissed you.”

Wait, hold on—what?

Buck blinked, his brain momentarily short-circuiting.

Eddie kissed him? Eddie kissed him? Eddie kissed him? That was... he didn’t know what to do with that. Except his heart stuttered in his chest, then took off like a freight train at the very idea.

“Oh,” he said faintly. “I think I remember the fire.”

“Great,” Eddie deadpanned, still staring out the windshield. “Light’s green.”

A few impatient honks behind them punctuated the remark. Buck jolted, shifted the Jeep into drive, and rolled forward in a daze.

He was still sort of in a daze by the time they finally made it to the wedding venue, told Maddie that they couldn’t find Chimney, and watched Athena start making phone calls.

Buck hung back a bit, leaning against the back of the couch and just… he didn’t even know what. He was worried about Chimney like everyone else, but it felt like he wasn’t worried enough. He felt—

He still felt like shit, to be honest. The nausea had thankfully passed, but the headache was only getting worse, and he was starting to realize that passing out on the floor had been a terrible idea, because now his back was killing him. But all of that was secondary to what was going on in his head.

Because Eddie had—yeah. He’d really pulled the rug out from under him. And Buck couldn’t—

Now that he had a little more time and wasn’t in full panic mode anymore, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

About the way Eddie’s mouth had felt on his—soft and warm, but so thrillingly demanding. About the way they’d kissed like they just couldn’t stop once they started. Like even the thought was impossible to fathom. How his whole body had felt like it was on fire, and how everywhere Eddie touched was soothed and set newly aflame all at once. He’d never felt like that before. Not with anyone.

It wasn’t just the desperation—though he had been desperate. Desperate to touch, to learn, to have. He’d needed more. He’d chanted it into Eddie’s ear, shamelessly, just to feel him shiver and grip him harder. He’d needed Eddie close—closer. So Buck had strained for him. Twisted underneath him until they couldn’t possibly get any closer without melting into each other.

But it wasn’t just the desperation.

It was the fact that it had been so easily—so completely—reciprocated.

Buck might not fully remember how it all started, which was a cruelty in itself. But he remembered exactly how Eddie had pulled him in and held him like he’d already known how Buck wanted to be held. How he’d licked deep into Buck’s mouth—like a man starving, like a man possessed—taking anything, everything Buck was willing to give.

He remembered Eddie's hands gripping his thighs, rough and certain—and he remembered in vivid detail the scrape of teeth across his collarbones. Had Eddie left marks? Fuck, Buck had the strongest urge to check. Because the way Eddie had touched him, and how he had groaned—dark and breathtakingly raw—when Buck gasped and arched into him, seeking more, more, more… It was everything.

Buck had felt so wanted.

That might be the clearest memory of all, and the most damning.

He'd felt craved.

It had been all too easy to bury that under the guise of guilt and regret when he’d thought that he'd kissed Eddie first. That he'd started it. But even then, he hadn't really regretted that it happened—just that it had happened the way it did. The way it might've looked like a mistake when it felt like the opposite in every way.

But now…

It might be a flimsy excuse, and it didn't mean that Buck wasn't taking responsibility. But he and Eddie… If one of them started something, the other followed suit. That was just how it had always been, and probably how it would always be for them. So if Eddie had kissed him… Buck had kissed him back.

Of course he had.

Was there even another choice? Because why wouldn't he tumble—swiftly, enthusiastically—right into Eddie's arms? If Eddie wanted him—if even a part of him did—how could Buck ever say no to that?

He was a horrible person. Truly.

His sister was in crisis, their friends were all seriously worried, and he was just standing here, daydreaming about his best friend.

Plus, the fact that he'd cheated on his own boyfriend—who was supposed to be his date for the wedding that Buck guessed was cancelled now anyway—didn't help.

Fuck.

He might’ve only been dating Tommy for a couple of months, but the man had still been Buck’s first in a lot of ways. He didn't deserve to have his trust broken. Nobody did.

Buck had to tell him.

They were probably going to break up, but he wasn't about to make the same mistakes he had with Taylor. That time, it had been just a stupid, drunken kiss that hadn't meant anything, and Buck had still tied himself in knots over it. Then instead of coming clean like he should have, he’d overcorrected—like an idiot.

He knew, looking back, that both he and Taylor had regretted the way they had moved in together. It hadn’t been working, and they’d ended up breaking up anyway—not solely because of that, sure, but it had been part of the reasons.

Tommy wasn't Taylor, though. Buck knew that. They didn't have that kind of history, for one.

Tommy might choose to forgive him. He might not even want to break up with Buck over this. They hadn't really talked about exclusivity, after all.

But that was just the thing.

They should break up.

Tommy shouldn't stay in a relationship where Buck's heart wasn't in it. It wouldn't be fair—to either of them.

Buck would still have to call him to let him know the wedding was off, and maybe to ask him to keep an eye out for Chimney. But he couldn’t tell him about last night over the phone. That would be a real dick move.

He owed it to Tommy to tell him in person—even if the idea of waiting put him on edge, like the longer he held in the truth, the more it became a lie. But Buck was just going to have to suck it up and deal with that.

Right now, what he needed to do was pull it together and focus on helping his sister.

Maddie had already tracked Chimney’s phone through Find My Friends, but none of it made sense. According to the app, he was all the way across LA—and he wasn't answering his phone or leaving messages for either of them. Something was clearly wrong. Chim wouldn’t just disappear. He wouldn't get cold feet. He loved Maddie.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” Josh asked gently. Maddie had just decided to head over to Dispatch after one of Athena's contacts confirmed they’d found Chim’s phone, but there was no trace of Chimney anywhere nearby. “I can go alone, check the security footage, pull the call logs. Let you know if there's anything.”

“I need to go,” Maddie replied. Her voice was steady, but Buck could see the tension in her shoulders. “I can't just sit here and wait. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Josh nodded. Maddie loved Chimney, too.

Hen was already outside bringing the car around, and Athena and Bobby had gone to meet the police patrol on the scene.

Maddie grabbed her phone and gathered the skirts of her delicate white dress. Her gaze swept over the room—over all their friends and family—until it landed on Buck, like she was searching for reassurance.

“Go,” Buck said firmly, straightening up. “We’ve got things covered here. Just find him.”

Maddie's face crumpled, for just a second. Then she took a deep breath, steeled herself, and walked out with Josh.

As it turned out, Buck didn’t have to do much at all. He spent maybe ten more minutes in the bridal suite before he and Eddie were both gently ushered out to shower and make themselves presentable. Thankfully, his parents and the Lees had taken it upon themselves to shut everything down—talking to guests, politely sending them home, informing the venue and catering staff, and handling last-minute cancellations. Karen—an actual saint—volunteered to take Jee-Yun home with Denny and Mara, freeing the rest of them to focus on wrapping things up at the hotel and joining the search for Chimney.

Buck still had a headache that refused to quit, but after a hot shower, clean clothes, and a couple of painkillers, he felt loads better.

He caught his parents just as they were leaving the bridal suite. With the last of the guests gone, they were on their way downstairs to coordinate clean-up and finalize things with the event planner. After that, they planned to swing by Hen and Karen’s to pick up Jee and take her home.

They didn’t talk for long—just a quick run-through of logistics—and Buck was a little relieved by that. Things between them weren’t as strained as they had once been, but he still wasn’t exactly holding his breath. Once the crisis was over, he fully expected a few disappointed looks and some mom-typical, thinly veiled remarks for the whole bachelor party mess.

Chimney hadn’t wanted one in the first place. If Buck had only listened, maybe they would’ve realized that something was wrong sooner. But maybe that was just the tired, cynical part of his brain talking. Sometimes, he wasn’t as hopeful and optimistic as he liked to pretend.

Instead of dwelling on it, he turned his attention to packing up Maddie’s stuff inside the room. Most things went into her suitcase, but he also set aside a change of clothes in a smaller bag to bring to her at the dispatch center.

He was just zipping it up when the door to the suite eased open and Eddie stepped inside, carrying a catering tray. He’d showered and changed—his hair still a bit damp, curling slightly at the ends—and Buck’s heart, unhelpfully, chose that exact moment to skip a beat and leap into his throat.

“H-hey,” he stammered. It was the second time today that he’d had to wrestle his nerves around Eddie. “I thought you might’ve left already.”

Eddie gave him a look Buck couldn’t quite read, then shook his head.

“Just called Carla to let her know what’s going on,” he said as he crossed the room. “And I figured you probably haven’t eaten, so I went downstairs and grabbed you something.”

He set the tray down gently on the coffee table. Under the lid, there was an assortment of sliders and hors d'oeuvres that would’ve been served at cocktail hour, probably since the hot dishes had already been packed up.

Buck looked at Eddie.

He was in love with him.

He might not have known it until a few hours ago, but once it hit, it was undeniable. And it made so much sense. Even looking back… so many things made more sense, knowing this was how he’d felt all along.

Now, the only problem was that he didn't know how Eddie felt. Not really. He had an inkling—maybe. Because of last night. But wanting him while they’d both been drunk out of their asses was not the same as wanting him, full stop. Buck knew that all too well—he even had the bedpost to prove it.

And then there was also Marisol.

“Thanks, man,” Buck said once he’d finally found his voice again. “You're a lifesaver.”

“It's also an apology,” Eddie said, catching him off guard.

Buck’s brows furrowed in confusion. “An apology?”

Eddie let out a quiet breath. “Listen, I know I was kind of harsh in the car. I didn't mean to be.”

Oh, that?

“It's okay. I get it,” Buck said quickly, brushing it off. It was instinctive—but also, Eddie was way off base if he thought that was what had been eating at Buck, when he actually—

“Do you, though?” Eddie cut in, looking at him pointedly. His gaze was steady and solid, like a physical weight. It was almost overwhelming. “Because I'm standing here trying to tell you I'm not upset with you, Buck. We were both drunk. We were both—there. Neither of us forced the other to do anything we didn't want to, right? So this whole martyr routine you’ve got going on?”

Buck let out a slow sigh. It rolled through his entire body before he could exhale it. “I'm gonna drop it.”

“Thank you.”

There was a beat. Buck ducked his head, old fears and insecurities creeping in. He was more aware than ever of how much was on the line, and suddenly terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. But he couldn’t stay silent.

“I just can't have this ruin our friendship, Eds,” he said softly, barely above a breath. Because that was what it all boiled down to. Not the sex. Not even his feelings—if they ever led anywhere. None of it mattered as much as Eddie staying. “I can't.”

Eddie’s eyes softened unbearably.

“It won't,” he said, tilting his head until he caught Buck’s gaze. “It won’t, I promise. Come here.”

Eddie’s hand landed on Buck’s shoulder before he could even make the conscious decision to move. But then Buck was already stepping into Eddie’s warmth and being pulled in at the same time.

He let out a breath of relief as their arms came up around each other and they hugged tight.

God, he needed this. He hadn’t even realized it until just now, when Eddie was already holding him—but fuck, it meant the world. Buck could have just sunk into this moment and never come back up.

He leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder, unable to stop himself from nuzzling in just a little—and Eddie only tightened his arms around him in response.

“We can talk about it later,” Eddie murmured close to his ear, rubbing his back with slow, steady strokes. “For now, let’s just get through the day, alright?”

Buck closed his eyes. Breathed in. Held it—one, two, three, four—then finally eased his grip and stepped back.

“Yeah—yeah.” He nodded, still a little unsteady, but already feeling lightyears better than he had all day. “Almost everything’s been taken care of here already. We should go. I need to get this to Maddie.”

He swung the duffel he’d packed over his shoulder, and Eddie grabbed the tray of food.

“You can eat in the car,” he said. “I’ll drive.”

After the wedding had been cancelled this morning, Buck hadn’t expected it to be back on—at least not the very same day. But this was Maddie and Chimney, so he really should’ve known better.

He still wasn’t clear on all the details, and the doctor had said Chim might not remember everything from the past twenty-four hours either. But one minute, they’d still been out on the street, combing through the neighbourhood where their friend had last been seen—and the next, they got the call from Hen that Chim had been found and rushed to the hospital.

By the time Buck and Eddie arrived at Downtown Medical with Bobby and Athena, Chimney was already in surgery to relieve the swelling in his brain. So Buck took a seat beside his sister and let her squeeze his hand until he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

It had been worth it, though. Less than two hours later, the surgeon came out to inform them that the operation had gone well—Chim was going to be okay. A couple of hours after that, he woke up, and Maddie announced to the whole waiting room that they were, in fact, still getting married.

“You know,” Buck said, leaning against the doorframe with an easy smile, “if you ask me, this feels more fitting than a hotel anyway.”

Maddie scrunched up her nose as she adjusted the sleeves of her dress. “Weirdly, it does.”

Bobby and Hen had managed to pull a few strings, and a highly amused older nurse had let Maddie use the staff locker room to change. Their mom had helped her into the dress, but now she was off making sure everyone else was in position. So Buck had stepped in.

He watched as his sister smoothed down the fabric of her skirt and swept her hair over her shoulders, checking herself one last time under the harsh fluorescent lights above the narrow mirror in the corner of the room.

“You look beautiful, Maddie,” Buck said, his voice catching and eyes soft with emotion. So much had happened today, and he’d been so stuck in his own head, only now was it really hitting him—his sister was marrying the love of her life today.

Maddie looked over, and her mouth wobbled before she could catch herself. Then she did—catch herself, that is—quickly shaking her head and pointing at him.

“Don’t you dare make me cry again,” she warned, hastily fanning her face with her other hand. “I just finished retouching my make-up.”

“Alright, alright—sorry,” Buck chuckled. “You okay, though?”

“I'm just happy he's in one piece,” she replied, her voice still a little watery, but full of relief.

“Don’t worry.” Buck reached out, gently squeezing her hand. “I am fully convinced nothing can kill Chimney at this point.”

Maddie huffed a laugh, squeezing back. “Well, you better be right about that.”

There was a small pause. Then, with a playful glint in her eye, Maddie turned to rummage through the duffel bag sitting on the bench behind her, only to pull out a small plastic box with a single white flower inside. Buck narrowed his eyes, then instantly lit up with glee when he realized it was a boutonnière.

“Really?” he asked, grinning as his sister stepped up to him, gingerly lifting the flower from its box.

“Oh, absolutely.”

Buck straightened, tilting his chin slightly to give her access. Maddie’s eyes sparkled as she pinned the flower to his blue hoodie, fingers brushing his chest as she adjusted the stem.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“What? Why?” Buck asked with a frown.

His sister looked up at him knowingly. “Evan.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him that, even after a full day of worrying about Chimney, Maddie had still managed to pick up on Buck’s weird mood. The only person who probably knew him better at this point was Eddie, and that was only because they’d been virtually living in each other’s pockets ever since Eddie joined the 118. Maddie was at a slight disadvantage because she had missed a few years.

That was an interesting thought. Eddie knew him better than his own sister.

They worked long, often gruelling shifts together, and yet still spent most of their free time outside of work with each other, too. Dinners, movies, game nights—but also the boring, mundane stuff. Like grocery runs, or even doctor’s appointments for Chris. Chris. He was technically Eddie’s kid, but Buck had been helping raise him for years. Hell, he was in Eddie’s will. He’d moved into the Diaz house more than once—first after Eddie got shot, then after Christopher called him when Eddie broke down. And Eddie had been at the loft practically every day while Buck was doing his PT after the truck bombing, and again during quarantine. Strangers thought they were a couple so often, they’d stopped correcting them a while ago.

Was Buck really only figuring this out now?

Wow. He was an idiot.

He swallowed, then gave a nervous little laugh. “It's nothing bad—I think. No, I know. Just, uh… something happened. And it might turn out to be something really great.”

God, he hoped so.

He’d been alternating between hopeful and devastated ever since Eddie hugged him at the hotel. He’d gotten through the search and the wait during Chim’s surgery by doing his best not to think about it. Telling himself to wait. To be smart. To not spiral. Not until he and Eddie could actually sit down and talk. But pretending that nothing had happened was hard as hell when all it took was one accidental glance across the room—and suddenly Buck remembered exactly what kissing Eddie Diaz felt like.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted, finally meeting Maddie’s gaze. “And I can’t really tell you about it until I’ve figured it out.”

His sister looked—well, Buck didn’t think he wasn’t imagining the pleased little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Which made no sense. Unless she knew something. But that was impossible.

Right?

“But you will?” Maddie asked, like she wanted him to make her a promise. “Soon?”

“Yeah.” Buck found himself nodding, a quiet smile blooming on his face. “Soon.”

Maybe it wasn’t as impossible as he’d thought. And for some reason, that made him feel strangely calm and happy.

“Well, alright then. We better get this show on the road before this wedding gets cancelled again,” Maddie joked, breaking the moment with a beaming smile that Buck instantly mirrored.

She got her small bouquet from the bench and puffed out an excited breath.

“Would you like to walk me in?”

His face went blank. “What? You mean, like…?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t hesitate. And the soft smile on her face told Buck she meant it.

Still, he couldn’t help asking, quieter now, “But don’t you want Dad to walk you?”

Maddie just looked at him, her expression so full of love it made his throat tight. She reached up and patted his chest gently.

“This feels more fitting.”

Buck didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded and let Maddie slip her arm through his, her hand resting lightly at the crook of his elbow.

They stepped into the hallway and walked the short distance down the hospital corridor toward Chimney’s room, Jee-Yun strolling shyly ahead of them as their friends looked on. The ceremony itself was brief, heartfelt, and imperfect in the way all the best things tend to be—and it absolutely made Buck tear up.

It was already over by the time his phone buzzed in his back pocket. A quick look told him it was a text from Tommy, saying he’d be there in a few minutes.

The room was full of laughter and love. Everyone was crowding around to hug the bride and groom, so Buck took the opportunity to slip out quietly.

There was something he still needed to do.

It was late when he finally got home, and he was exhausted enough—understandably—that Buck just took a quick shower, wolfed down some take-out, and all but collapsed into bed.

He considered calling or texting Eddie, but he was too tired for the Olympic-level mental gymnastics it would’ve taken to figure out what to say. The conversation they needed to have wasn’t meant to happen over the phone anyway. So, in the end, he just scrolled through TikTok until he started to doze.

He wasn’t quite asleep when he heard his front door unlock. Only two people had a key to his place, and one of them was spending the night at the hospital with her brand new husband—so Buck had a pretty solid guess who his late-night visitor was.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows as Eddie quietly climbed the stairs to the loft, his heart thumping a little faster. Eddie was still in his jeans and green henley from earlier, but he looked softer now in the warm orange glow of Buck’s bedside lamp, and just as worn-out as Buck felt.

“Hey,” Eddie said softly as he reached the top of the stairs.

“Hi,” Buck replied just as quietly.

“Did I wake you?” Eddie asked, hesitating at the edge of the bed.

“No, it’s okay,” Buck assured him, sitting up a bit more. “I wasn't sleeping.”

“Scoot over,” Eddie said after a beat, already toeing off his shoes.

Buck lay back and shimmied to the side to make space, and Eddie practically faceplanted into the pillow beside him with a groan.

Buck chuckled, amused. “Long day?”

Eddie let out another noncommittal noise—somewhere between a sigh and a grunt—that Buck supposed counted as a yes.

They lay there in silence for a couple of minutes, content to just be. Buck had been afraid it might feel awkward or uncomfortable—being this close to Eddie again, sharing the same space like this after last night—but it wasn’t. Not even a little. And that alone spoke volumes.

“Where’s Chris?” he asked softly. This time of night had that particular stillness where anything louder than a whisper felt almost sacrilegious.

“He’s spending the night at Pepa’s,” Eddie murmured, voice muffled by the pillow. Then he turned his head toward Buck and added, “I broke up with Marisol.”

Like it wasn’t the kind of thing that could stop a man’s heart. Or at least, Buck’s.

For a moment, he was completely floored by the sheer force of relief and hope crashing into him like a tsunami. And that wasn’t even an exaggeration—Buck had a very accurate point of reference. But this time, the nerves flooding him were the good kind. The best kind.

“You broke up with her…?” Buck asked carefully. He didn’t want to sound too eager, but his heart was racing.

“I didn’t tell her what happened between us,” Eddie clarified. “I thought—it would’ve been cruel. She didn’t deserve that.”

Buck thought he understood what Eddie was saying. He’d needed to tell Tommy the truth so Tommy wouldn’t blame himself—so he wouldn’t think he had done something wrong, when that wasn’t the case. Eddie had needed to do what felt right for his own relationship—even if, on the surface, it looked like the opposite of what Buck had done. It wasn’t, though. Not really.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth,” Eddie said simply. “What I should’ve told her weeks ago instead of asking her to move in with me. Then immediately asking her to move back out.”

Buck sent him a questioning look, prompting him to go on.

“We weren’t working, Buck.” Eddie sighed, turning onto his side to face him. “I tried to force it. Tried to… pretend. Like with Ana. But we were never going to work. It’s not her fault, and I guess it’s not mine—it's just how it is. And you had nothing to do with that.”

The way Eddie said it, with such quiet conviction, Buck almost believed him. But he knew better.

“I had something to do with it, though,” he said evenly. He didn’t blame himself, but he still felt the weight of it. And he knew Eddie did, too.

But Eddie shook his head, gaze steady. “Not the way you think.”

Buck took a deep breath, his lungs expanding. Still, it felt like his chest was too small for all those enormous, wonderful, terrible feelings it was supposed to contain.

He turned onto his side, their bodies now mirroring each other completely. He was desperate for Eddie to elaborate—to spell it out for him. To say the thing Buck didn’t know if he was allowed to ask for. He would’ve done anything for those words to mean what he thought they meant.

“How did Tommy take it?” Eddie asked eventually, when the silence had stretched too long.

Buck let out an involuntary noise—a strange mix of a squeak, a snort, and a huff. He’d kind of hoped Eddie wouldn’t ask about that, because he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

“That was… interesting. He, uh—he wasn’t surprised.”

“That you cheated on him?” Eddie frowned.

“No. Not that.” Buck bit the inside of his cheek, and then he decided to bite the bullet. “That it was you.”

“You told him it was me?” Eddie’s frown deepened.

“He guessed.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

Buck had been surprised, too. The implications there were… Well, they were clear enough.

He just couldn’t believe that Tommy, who had only known him for a few months, had figured this out before he had. Buck had been so oblivious this whole time, he kind of had to wonder if his entire relationship with Tommy had just been built on a bunch of misplaced feelings.

Excellent material for his next therapy session.

Eddie sat with that particular piece of information for a few moments, clearly turning it over in his head. But it didn’t take long for that familiar look of determination to settle in his eyes. Buck had seen it countless times before, yet it never failed to—

It never failed to make him fall a little more in love with Eddie.

“For all your freaking out today…” Eddie started tentatively, “I noticed none of it was specifically about us sleeping together.”

Oh. There it was. They were really doing this.

Buck swallowed. “Well… I was kind of waiting for you to freak out about that.”

“Not freaked out.”

“No?”

Eddie shook his head.

“Why?” Buck asked, genuinely bewildered.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to be freaked out…?”

“No. Of course not,” Buck said quickly. “I just—I thought you’d—because—”

“I liked it,” Eddie interrupted his stammering, quiet but firm.

That sentence sounded so simple that it barely felt like a confession. But it was one. And fuck, Buck had already known. He’d known it deep down—had known it this morning, when he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Eddie had touched him. He just didn’t let himself believe it.

“You did?” he asked softly, staring at Eddie like he’d just hung the moon.

“I think so,” Eddie replied, a strange glint in his eye that—oh.

Oh, he was such an asshole.

“Do you now?” Buck shot back, lifting his brows, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He wanted to kiss this man so badly it was almost funny.

“Can’t be sure, can I?” Eddie teased, voice maddeningly casual. “We were drunk.”

“Mhm. Right.”

Buck bit his lip, rolling onto his back and stretching out a little—mostly to keep himself from doing something stupid like climbing into Eddie’s lap.

His head lolled to the side again, eyes finding Eddie’s with a smile. “So you don’t regret it?”

“No, Buck. I don’t regret it,” Eddie said, his voice soft and certain in the dim light.

“Me neither,” Buck replied, his heart doing that annoying little flutter again.

Except—y’know. It wasn’t really that annoying. Buck thought he could get used to it, actually.

“So… you’re gonna offer?” Eddie asked, voice low and just a little smug. A little playful, too. And like—wow. He was so hot.

Buck had no idea what he was talking about. “Offer what?”

“To help me make sure.”

Oh fuck.

Buck’s breath hitched. “Eddie—you. Are you sure? I mean, you and Marisol just broke up, and me and Tommy—”

“Would it be too fast for you?” Eddie interrupted gently, and the care in his gaze made Buck absolutely melt.

“I—no. It wouldn’t,” Buck admitted. How could he not? Part of him was genuinely miffed he wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to jump Eddie right now. But the other, bigger part was a little overwhelmed—and more than a little terrified of messing this up.

“But maybe that’s an issue?” he continued uncertainly. “Because—you know how I always—I rush into things. And then I make a mess. And I can’t do that with you, Eddie. You’re too important to me.”

Eddie paused, taking that all in stride before nodding. “Okay. That’s fair.”

Buck let out a small breath, starting to—

But then Eddie pushed himself up a little, shifting closer on the bed until he was right at Buck’s side. He leaned over him with unambiguous intent, and Buck’s eyes immediately widened in recognition. He could only think—this is almost exactly how we woke up this morning—and then instantly, with a thundering heart—but better, because he’s going to kiss me this time.

“But have you considered…” Eddie murmured, his voice smooth as sin, “after the glacial pace we’ve been moving at so far… that maybe we really ought to rush?”

He leaned in, closing the distance slowly, so slowly—but so surely. His gaze flicked between Buck’s eyes and his mouth, silent but unmistakable in what he was asking.

And wasn’t that at least a little funny? Because when had Buck ever denied Eddie anything?

He closed his eyes and lifted his chin just a fraction—and there.

Eddie’s lips on his.

It started slow.

Not tentative—no, nothing about it felt uncertain. But Buck was holding his breath, and he knew Eddie was too. Something thick and electric hung suspended in the air between them as their lips moved in gentle, deliberate swipes. Like the tension winding tight inside them was building—higher, and higher, and higher—until Buck was dizzy with it.

Because this wasn’t just a kiss. This was the kiss. He could feel it in his chest, in his spine, in his soul. In the way his fingers curled helplessly into the sheets of their own accord, while his body thrummed with relief.

This was the rest of his life.

He finally let out a breath, and Eddie swallowed it down with a hunger Buck felt in his bones and echoed through his ribcage. His hand slipped behind Buck’s neck like a firm tether, holding him close and grounding him in the moment. Buck arched into him instinctively, one hand sliding into Eddie’s hair while the other scrabbled over his back frantically. Needing him. Needing this.

God, he felt buzzed. Like he was getting drunk on Eddie’s kisses and the sheer desire in them, all over again. Eddie’s tongue licked into his mouth—dirty, confident, hot as hell—and for a moment, Buck was transported back to the night before. He was lying in his bed in his apartment, but he was also sprawled over the beige carpet of a ruined hotel room, Eddie above him, around him, possessing him and being possessed by him—the only constant.

They were just kissing, but Buck felt gloriously wrecked. His head was swimming with the almost overwhelming intensity of each desperate, starving, devastating press of their lips. His body was alight, surging with want—but it was more than that. He’d never trusted anyone he’d been with before the way he trusted Eddie. In every possible way. So completely. Eddie was his partner, in every meaning of the word, and Buck finally got it.

They finally got it.

Suddenly, Eddie broke away—but only to press his lips to Buck’s jaw, then down to his throat, trailing open-mouthed kisses down to the hollow. Buck gasped, his eyes fluttering shut, but he couldn’t stop the massive grin from spreading across his face. It almost hurt how good this felt. Like something in his chest could take flight any second now, elated and perfectly happy.

He grabbed for Eddie’s shoulder, hauled him back up, and they kissed again—short, messy, giddy kisses that made no sense and all the sense in the world. They kept it up until they were both laughing into each other’s mouths, breathless and stunned. Smiling so hard it really was impossible to keep going.

Eddie’s hand slid from the nape of his neck to cradle Buck’s jaw, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. Buck gentled at the touch, leaning into it. He stared into Eddie’s gorgeous brown eyes, breath catching, chest full to bursting—and Eddie stared back like Buck was the sun, the stars, and everything in between.

“So what's the verdict?” Buck whispered, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Are you?”

Eddie’s gaze dropped to his mouth for a beat—just long enough for Buck to catch it and feel very smug about it.

“Am I what?”

“Are you sure now? Do you like it?” Buck clarified, blue eyes glinting teasingly, like he already knew the answer.

Eddie let out a breathless chuckle, gaze tipping heavenward in mock exasperation.

Then he shifted—down and a little to the left—nudging Buck’s legs apart and settling in, right between his thighs. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he rested his chin on Buck’s sternum and slipped his hands under his loose tank, fingers skimming lightly over his flanks. He smirked as Buck shivered at the touch—lazy, smug, and undeniably pleased with himself.

“What do you think?”

Buck sank comfortably into the mattress, smirking back.

Oh, it was on.