Chapter Text
Chapter One
“If I’m Ever In The Way”
Buck
Buck rolled his eyes, stifling another groan in hopes to preserve the night's silence. He knew the housing market was in a whole other world at the moment, but this? This was bad. He banged his fist on his laptop before slamming it shut.
So much for "preserving the night's silence."
He planted his nose between his tented hands and forced himself to breathe. He rubbed his face, combed back his curls. And then, finally, his racing, frustrated heart began to slow.
"I’ve earned a beer," he thought.
He couldn't care less that it was well past nine o'clock on a weekday.
Within the next minute, the promising beverage is his. Buck tilts his head backwards to let the subtle burn and sharp taste of the drink take over. While it already felt like the alcohol was working, Buck knew that that was likely just a placebo effect. But again, he couldn't find the energy to care. Instead, Buck leans against Eddie's kitchen counter and lets go of alllllll his mental ailments.
Eddie enters the kitchen with a chuckle, presumably laughing at how Buck is drinking well after nine o'clock on a weekday.
"That bad?" Eddie teases.
"Mmm-hmm," Buck hums, nodding his head, his eyes closed for optimal frustration release.
Eddie snorts, followed by the clinking and clanking of the fridge opening and closing.
Buck opens his eyes and sighs, watching Eddie grimace as he dealt with his stubborn bottle cap. Then, the two raise their beers in a loose "cheers" and take swigs, relishing in the sweet, forgiving quiet together.
Work had run late, and, while they loved being first responders, right now everything was ten times as hard. But, on the plus side, overtime tended to look good in the form of a paycheck.
"You doin' alright Buck?"
Buck hoists himself onto the counter behind him and rests his head on the cabinets.
He shrugs.
"Maybe you should go to bed now? Instead of doom scrolling for apartments?" Eddie suggests, putting the finishing touches on the sandwich he was packing for Christopher’s lunch.
Buck shakes his head. "I've got no use for sleep right now Eddie. I need to be on the hunt for apartments as much as I can be. You know, so I can get out of your hair as soon as possible," he says, waving his hand as he takes another sip.
Eddie frowns. "Get out of my hair?" He slips the lunchbox into the fridge.
“Yeah I mean. I can't stay here forever."
"Well, I guess not, but—"
“I was just subletting so you could come back."
"I know, and that was—"
"I just don’t want to interrupt you and Christopher’s whole ‘settling-back-down’ process or impose on your routine." He swallowed. "I'll find—"
"Evan!"
Eddie's snap — much less the sound of his name, — causes Buck to stop short. And when the silence falls around them, Eddie lifts his hands to talk.
"You're right, you can't really stay here forever, I guess. But—imposing on our routine? Interrupting our routine? No, Buck, you're forgetting that you're the whole reason we even have a routine here."
Buck opens his mouth to talk—
"No, stop it, okay? You gave up a lot for me—for us," Eddie corrects. "You do understand that, right? It's important to me that you understand that."
Buck is quick at attempting to counter Eddie's lecture. "I mean, it wasn't that big of a deal. Sure, I… I loved that loft, but I just, I don’t know."
Spiraling is a good word for what Buck is both feeling and doing in this moment.
"Point is," Buck tries again, willing his thoughts to slow down. "Everything is back to normal now. So, I need to find a new place soon."
Looking at Eddie, Buck wonders how someone could appear so baffled and yet so understanding at once.
"Alright, fine. How about this," Eddie breaches, placing a palm down on his kitchen island.
"Yeah?" Buck tenses, his shoulders locking uncomfortably.
"Just listen to me for a moment," Eddie urges softly, his floating hand slowly dropping.
"For one, I need you to accept the fact that I am beyond grateful for you subletting in the first place. Accept the fact that it was a kindness that I never thought anyone would do for me, okay?"
Buck draws in a breath, and submits to the fact that Eddie's words fought against a few layers of his insecurity.
They always did.
"Really?"
Of course, Buck knew that not everyone had the luxury to just move themselves into their best friend's place to hold down the fort for them, but really? Eddie didn’t believe anyone would do anything remotely similar?
"Really," Eddie repeats.
"Okay fine. I'll accept the fact that I did you a huger kindness than I realized," he tries, wincing at the attempt.
"Perfect," Eddie beams, causing Buck’s worry to fade. "Now the hard part," he continues, which latches the worry right back onto Buck’s mind. "I need you to listen."
Buck scoffs and rolls his eyes, amused. "Dick."
Eddie allows himself to laugh, the corners of his mouth raising. "Yeah, sure, call me a dick. Whatever makes you feel better, bud. Anyway. I want you to take as much time as you need with everything."
Buck blinks, then frowns. "What?"
Eddie closes his eyes and purses his lips, and Buck watches his shoulders rise as he draws in a wisp of air.
"I said—" he starts, voice lower than before "—I want you to take as much time as you need. Take as much time as you need to find a place, Buck. Another week, two months, a year. I honestly don't care. It's my way of thanking you, alright?"
Oh.
"Oh… I mean…" Buck trails off, struggling to find a rebuttal. He chews at his bottom lip, rubs the back of his neck. "You’re sure?"
His shoulders fall in surrender, deciding for him that he's done arguing. If Eddie is being serious, then he wins this round.
Eddie nods. "One hundred percent sure, Buck. There's no way I'm letting myself pressure you into moving out anytime soon. Especially after what you've done for Chris and I these past few months, okay?"
Reluctantly, Buck nods. "Okay," he sighs, throwing up his hands in defeat.
The change in Eddie’s demeanor is nothing but relief, but Buck still can't help but feel bad that he had stressed his friend out, that he had worried him. He felt even worse knowing that his rush to get out of the Diaz residence didn’t just come from feeling like he was inserting himself into the wrong dynamic, but somewhere he shouldn’t be entirely.
“I mean, you’re living in the guy's house!”
Tommy’s words had done nothing but haunt Buck for the last month, and Buck was getting tired of feeling pathetic or having his actions attached to reasons that didn't correlate. So, at the end of the day, this was Eddie's house, and it was time that Buck started acting like it.
"Okay, well," Eddie sighs, looking down at his beer and frowning again. "I don't really know why I got this out."
"Are you going to bed?" Buck dangles his legs over the counter, palms folded over and gripping the edge of the polished stone.
Eddie nods.
"I'll just finish it for you," Buck offers, reaching out a free hand to take the bottle. He places it beside him, where it is destined to be forgotten.
As Eddie passes Buck on his way to bed, he pauses, taking a moment to meet his friends gaze. Buck shivers under his stare.
"Goodnight Buck," Eddie bids, squeezing Buck's shoulder.
"Goodnight Eddie," Buck whispers in return, to the man that was already gone from sight.