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“You run out of clean shirts?”
Eddie has been back in L.A. for almost two weeks now, and things have been…weird.
He isn’t sure why, at first. Bobby is back in the Captain’s chair after a lengthy recovery from his latest near death experience. Maddie and Chimney are adjusting to life with their newborn son. He and Christopher have even unpacked the last of their moving boxes, ready to call L.A. home for good. Compared to this time last year, not much has actually changed apart from another little Buckley-Han finally joining the party, so if anything, Eddie’s first day back at the 118 should be uneventful. An easy return to normalcy, a puzzle piece sliding back into its proper place.
Then Buck whips off his shirt and starts bench pressing Eddie’s bodyweight as a warm up, and…yeah. Weird.
“It’s hot as hell in here, man. I’m just trying not to sweat to death,” Buck grunts as he reracks the barbell. He sits up, bare chest heaving and glistening with sweat, and Eddie can’t help but agree– it is really hot in here. “Why, you got a problem?”
“No, no.” Eddie clears his throat. “You just look like you haven’t seen the sun in years, bud. Can’t look at you for too long, I might go blind.”
Buck’s smirk deepens. “Take a picture, then, it’ll last longer.”
“And give you fodder for this year’s calendar?” Eddie snorts, though he can feel his cheeks growing inexplicably warm. “Not on your life, Buckley.”
They both laugh, but they don’t stop looking at each other for at least a few seconds afterwards, and Eddie…
Eddie has never felt like this before.
And that is weird, right? Because he’s not an idiot, he knows what it feels like to be attracted to someone. Or…at least, he thinks he does.
He thinks back to the day he and Shannon first met at the lake. They were just two idiot kids trying to cool off in the Texas heat, but she smiled at him like she knew something that he didn’t, and all Eddie wanted was to be near her. He liked the way the sun bleached the soft waves that framed her face. He liked her baby pink bathing suit because it reminded him of the little crocheted doilies his abuelita kept around her house. He liked the way she stayed up with him until the fireflies came out, twinkling like stars on the surface of the lake, the two of them laughing so hard it made their stomachs hurt.
He liked Shannon so much. Even when they got older, and things got hard, he never stopped liking her.
But then he tries to remember what she looked like in his bed. He thinks back to the taste of her lips, the feeling of her bare skin pressed against his, and it…it hurts. Deep in his belly, the thought of her aches.
And the worst part is, he thinks it always has.
He felt it the day they got married, her baby bump just starting to show. The day he saw her again for the first time in two years, looking like the same sunkissed girl with fireflies in her hair that he met at the lake. The day he met the woman who looked exactly like her and couldn’t stay away, craving the familiar pain like a security blanket. He felt it, and he held it close, because he thought that’s how it was supposed to feel. How a man was supposed to feel when he looked at a woman.
Any woman.
Every woman.
But Buck isn’t a woman.
So when he pops his earbuds in and starts another set, Eddie doesn’t look away. He takes in every second of Buck grunting and panting beneath the weight of the barbell, trails of sweat cutting through his sparse chest hair, and comes to two conclusions.
- Buck works out like he’s auditioning to be a porn star.
- Eddie’s stomach doesn’t hurt. It burns.
His chest tightens like he’s breathing in smoke, his fingers numb and tingly with each shallow breath, his legs barely managing to hold him upright. He’s pretty sure he’s going to pass out if he stands here any longer, but he’d rather die than look away. Buck has him rooted to the spot, completely taken with every stupid, perfect inch of him.
He loved Shannon. He knows he did, in whatever way he was able to– but it’s becoming painfully obvious that no one, not even her, has ever made him feel like this. Like…
Like Eddie would douse himself in gasoline and hand Buck a lighter if it meant he’d never put a shirt on again.
“Woah. You good, Eddie?”
Eddie jumps out of his skin, finally tearing his eyes away from Buck to find Hen watching him with thinly-veiled amusement. His cheeks go bright red– she just caught him staring slack-jawed at his best friend in all of his half-naked glory, and she is clearly struggling not to laugh in his face.
“I’m good,” Eddie stammers, fighting to undo the top button of his shirt before his collar starts to choke him. “I was just–”
“Enjoying the view?” Hen snorts, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She’s teasing, but it’s not unkind, as if she can sense his mounting panic and doesn’t want to spook him.
“Yeah, well…didn’t see a lot of views like that back in Texas.” His eyes flick back to Buck, who has apparently moved on to deadlifts. His shoulders look obscene. Eddie tries not to swallow his own tongue.
“It is pretty nice,” Hen says, a knowing look in her eye. “I mean, it’s not really my thing, but…what do you think?”
Eddie pauses. For once, he knows exactly what he thinks– he thinks that he’s in the middle of a big, fat, embarrassing sexuality crisis, served piping hot on a silver platter shaped suspiciously like his best friend.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve never noticed…” His voice cuts off. He’s not sure how to say it without it turning into a lie.
Hen schools her face into something carefully neutral, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that makes Eddie squirm, crossing his arms tighter across his body to protect the sensitive underbelly she’s about to poke.
“You don’t need to have all the answers, Eddie,” she says, the gentleness in her voice clashing with the loud smack of Buck’s barbell hitting the ground with each rep. “Lord knows I didn’t at first. You can just…feel.”
Eddie grimaces. Just feeling has never been one of his strong suits.
“I don’t think I have any answers right now, but…” He pauses, then takes a breath. “Yeah. It’s nice.”
There’s a beat, and then Hen smiles. She claps a hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.
“I get it,” she says. I see you, she doesn’t say, but Eddie hears it anyway. “You just let me know if you wanna talk about it, alright? I’m pretty well versed in…nice views.”
She leaves him with a wink and the distinct feeling of something sliding into place inside him, something he’s too afraid to name with the haze of lust still clouding his mind. He can hear Buck breathing heavily through his deadlifts, but he knows better than to try and steal another look with Hen watching his every move. His eyes scan the floor for something, anything, to distract him, and he finds it: an unremarkable patch of stained carpet next to the kitchen table.
It’s subtle, but hard to miss once you know it’s there, a misshapen blob where one of them undoubtedly spilled one of Bobby’s home-cooked meals and got mercilessly ribbed for wasting their lunch.
It’s so stupid. It’s right there in the middle of the room, but even when he looks right at it, he can’t describe its shape, its size, its color. It’s just…there, and he doesn’t know what it is.
Eddie doesn’t know a lot of things, apparently.
What he does know, at the very least, is that he’s attracted to Buck. And that’s…sort of normal, if he thinks about it. A lot of people are attracted to Buck! Eddie’s seen the way people of every gender get drawn in by his strength, his kindness, his competence– and when he really thinks about it, is it that weird to be one of them? What, does he think he’s special? Is he too good to have a little thing for his best friend?
It’s gonna be fine. Once he comes to terms with…whatever he is, he’s sure that the hold Buck has on him will loosen its grip and everything will go back to normal. He just has to keep his head on straight—he tries not to snort at the thought—and not fuck this up.
It’s just a crush. Eddie can handle a crush.
~oOo~
Eddie gets proven wrong almost immediately, which has to be some kind of record.
He’s not sure when the 118 decided that monthly Bowling Night is their new thing, but at the end of a grueling 48 his second week back, Buck sweeps into the locker room to give everyone their brand new, custom bowling shirts, grinning proudly over being trusted with the design. It’s simple, a black Hawaiian shirt with red piping and a small “118” embroidered on the left sleeve. On the back of Eddie’s, the name “DIAZ” stands out in bold red lettering over a decal of a bowling pin on fire.
It’s silly. He’s gonna look ridiculous. But Buck’s smile has his stomach doing somersaults, and Eddie Diaz is a weak, weak man.
He shows up to the bowling alley the next night in his deeply embarrassing shirt and is surprised by how warm the place feels, all lit up with neon lights and smelling like cheap pizza and the spray they use to disinfect the shoes. It’s nice, he thinks, apart from the bored teenager behind the counter giving him the wrong shoe size. A night out with the whole team feels like just the thing he needs to keep his mind off of…other things.
Or at least it would have been, if Buck’s shirt wasn’t so fucking tight.
The rest of their shirts fit comfortably loose, but Buck’s clings to him like a second skin, the fabric pulling taut across his shoulders every time he so much as breathes. It’s…fucking indecent is what it is, but when he steps up to take his next turn, Eddie can’t bring himself to look away. He watches as Buck, ball in hand, takes two long strides, winds up, and nails a perfect strike, pumping his fist in the air with a cheer. The hem of his shirt rides up with the motion, showing off the barest sliver of creamy, freckled skin, and Eddie has to dig his fingers into the meat of his own thighs to keep from doing something insane, like touching it.
“Woo! Man, I am hot tonight!” He wheels around, pointing a finger at Bobby with a crooked grin. His sleeve constricts around the bulk of his bicep with the motion, and all Eddie can think is yes, yes you are. “I’m coming for you this time, Cap, I can feel it.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, kid,” Bobby says with a smirk. “You’ve still got three frames left. Plenty of time to screw up.”
“Ooh, big words.” Buck grabs Bobby’s ball and shoves it into his arms, grinning when he lets out a soft grunt. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”
Bobby laughs as he pushes Buck aside, playful and light. Buck beams like he just won the lottery, and something flickers to life in Eddie’s chest at the sight, soft and warm and achingly familiar.
“Speaking of mouths, you might wanna close yours, dude,” Ravi mutters close to his ear. Eddie jumps, slamming his jaw shut with an audible click that Buck seems oblivious to as he bounds over and sinks down next to him on the sofa.
“What are you two whispering about?” he asks, reaching past Eddie to poke Ravi on the arm. Crowding into his space, Buck’s arm lands heavily across Eddie’s shoulders and then just…stays there.
A second passes, then two, and then– then , Eddie’s brain short-circuits, because Evan Buckley has his arm around him like they’re a couple of teenagers in the back of a movie theatre, and he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to breathe. He feels like he’s been branded, Buck’s body heat searing a claim into his skin at every point of contact– and worst of all, Eddie likes it so much that he leans into the touch like it’s second nature. Like this is something they just do.
“Just making things interesting,” Ravi says, sounding far smoother than Eddie could have with his heart going a mile a minute. He nods towards Hen and Chimney. “These two bet two weeks of latrine duty. Hen’s pretty confident you’re gonna lose.”
“Because he always loses,” Hen snarks, though her eyes haven’t moved from where Buck’s hand rests on Eddie’s shoulder. “And I’m never wrong,” she adds with a knowing smirk.
“Hey! Don’t let her get in your head, Buckley,” Chimney says through a mouthful of pizza, seemingly unaware of Eddie’s slow descent into insanity. “You’ve got this. You’re a bowling machine.”
”You’re just saying that because you don't want to clean toilets for the next two weeks,” Eddie says, because if he doesn’t say something, he’s going to dissociate entirely and float away on a cloud of shoe disinfectant spray.
But then Buck leans in closer with a sly grin, setting his mouth a hair’s breadth from the shell of Eddie’s ear, and suddenly dissociating sounds like a really good idea.
“Or lose to Hen. Again,” he laughs softly, like it’s a secret just for them. His breath sends a rush of heat down Eddie’s spine, and that’s it, he has got to get up. He’s got to–
Chimney points a finger in Buck’s face, a wicked glint in his eye. “Those sound like fighting words, Buckaroo.”
“Oh yeah? Well…if you insist.” For a split second, Eddie swears he can feel Buck’s lips brush against his jaw, curling into a smirk just before he jumps onto his feet and drags Chimney into a headlock. Eddie lets himself sag into the empty space he left behind, pink-cheeked and breathless.
“Hey!” Chimney wheezes, punching uselessly at Buck’s massive forearm. It bulges against his windpipe in a way that Eddie really shouldn’t find attractive, but that seems to be a recurring theme for him at this point. “Cap, workplace harassment!”
“We’re not in the workplace,” Bobby says, casually lining up his second shot even as Chimney continues to struggle in Buck’s hold. “You start a fight, you finish it.”
“Yeah, Chim, you started it!” Buck laughs, dodging desperate blows to the ribs. “Jesus, you’re squirmy.”
“Stop it, you–you fucking giant, come here!” Chimney kicks his foot repeatedly into the side of Buck’s knee, cawing victoriously when it finally buckles and he’s forced to loosen his grip. One more shove, and Buck is stumbling off-balance, falling completely off his feet and–
Into Eddie’s lap.
Everything stops. Eddie’s arms hover in the air away from Buck’s body, eyes staring unblinking at the ugly carpet beneath his feet. He has a lapful of a giddy, giggling Buck, who doesn’t seem at all fazed by the fact that he’s sprawled across his best friend’s legs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his arms. The rest of the world fades to a neon blur around him, until all that’s left is the laughter Buck buries into his shoulder, the hand gripping the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, and the slow, humiliating realization that he’s half-hard in his jeans.
“Eddie! You’re up.”
Oh, God. Please let that be it.
Buck slides off of his lap with a casual air that Eddie tries to mimic, even as his heart threatens to punch through his ribcage. It’s going well, mostly, until Eddie starts to stand and Buck decides to brace a hand on his back to help push him to his feet, his pinky just barely slipping past the hem of Eddie’s shirt.
It’s almost nothing. The touch at the small of his back is featherlight, a brush of skin-on-skin that shouldn’t even compare to Buck being in his lap five seconds ago, and yet…
A pinky. A pinky is all it takes for Eddie to break.
In one fluid motion, Eddie grabs his ball, trips over his wrong-sized shoes, bowls a truly pathetic gutter ball, and yells something about bad pizza before he rushes off to the bathroom, Hen’s cackle and Buck’s furrowed brow haunting him the entire way there.
The bathroom is cramped and dingy, but quiet, and Eddie takes a moment to splash some water in his face to chase away the last of his blush. It works, but only somewhat– he can still see it in the mirror, the seemingly permanent state of flushed embarrassment that clings to him whenever Buck so much as breathes in his direction. He braces both hands on the sink, swearing under his breath.
“It never used to be like this.”
“Oh, dude, it totally did.”
Eddie startles, whirling around to find Ravi leaning casually against the sink to his left. A few damp strands of hair fall limply over his forehead and he brushes them away with a shaky hand.
“Ravi, what the hell–”
“I mean, you weren’t like this, ” Ravi says, gesturing vaguely to…well, all of him. “But you weren’t exactly subtle, man.”
“Well, great,” Eddie mutters, splashing his face again. “That’s just perfect.”
“Relax. I think it’s sweet.” Ravi slaps a hand on his shoulder, grinning proudly. “It’s about time you two got your shit together.”
Oh.
Eddie’s blush flares back to life in full force.
“…Hang on,” Ravi says, eyes widening with utter delight. “You’re joking.”
Eddie presses his lips flat and says absolutely nothing.
“Eddie!” Ravi cackles, doubling over with the force of it. “You cannot be serious!”
“Ravi–”
“That, all of that, was supposed to be platonic?”
“Ravi!”
“This is incredible.” He throws his head back, bracing one hand on Eddie’s shoulder and clutching his belly with the other. “Fuck, my stomach hurts!”
“Please shut the fuck up,” Eddie hisses, his eyes darting between Ravi and the door.
“Alright, alright," he wheezes. “Look, as hilarious as that whole thing was, you really don’t have anything to worry about, man. Anyone with a brain can see that Buck is crazy about you.”
Buck is crazy about you.
Buck. Crazy about you.
Something twists in Eddie’s gut at the thought, ugly and cold.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rav,” Eddie says, shrugging Ravi’s hand away. “We’re just friends.”
“Oh, I know a lot more than you think I do,” Ravi says, fighting back a smile. “But that’s a conversation for another day. Just pull yourself together before he comes looking for you, alright?”
Ravi winks and darts out of the bathroom before Eddie can even ask what he means. Alone once more, he slumps against the wall, the words Buck is crazy about you playing on repeat in his head.
He tries not to wonder why they make him feel so nauseous.
~oOo~
Eddie doesn’t believe in “The Universe”. At least, not in the way that has everyone else panicking whenever someone says the q-word on shift. He’s not against the idea that there’s something up there bigger than himself, per se, but he’s not convinced that it spends its time punishing people for opening umbrellas indoors or walking under ladders.
Except for right now. Because now, the Universe has been fucking with him for over a month, and it is really starting to feel personal.
It’s Eddie’s own fault, really. He’s the one who insisted that Buck stay with him and Christopher while he shopped around for a new place. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat, don’t get him wrong– but now that they’re living and working together, there is no corner of the world he can run to where Buck won’t find him.
The showers after a call? Eddie walks in on Buck styling his hair in the mirror, a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin.
The bunk room? There’s Buck, laying flat on his stomach across one of the beds with one leg splayed at just the right angle to show off his perfect ass.
His own bedroom? Buck apparently got into yoga while he was away, because Eddie walks in one morning just as he’s sinking into Warrior 2, the muscles in his thighs bulging with the deep stretch. He’s so close to the bed that Eddie has to flee the room with his fist in his mouth before he gives in to his urge to tackle him onto the sheets and kiss every inch of his stupid, perfect body.
Needless to say, he’s grateful that Buck is on kitchen duty today– with him occupied at the stove, Eddie might actually make it through an afternoon without having a… situation to deal with.
For once, he’s kind of enjoying the easy shift they’re having, the hours that pass slow and sweet with the team all lounging around the TV in the loft. Going this long without a call usually makes him want to crawl out of his skin with boredom, but spending his downtime with the people he loves feels like time well spent. It’s been forever since he’s gotten to be with the whole team like this, and now that he’s back where he’s supposed to be, Eddie doesn’t want to waste it. Of all the things he missed while he was away, this was at the top of the list.
“Hey, Eddie! Can you come taste this for me?”
Well. Maybe second from the top.
“Coming,” Eddie groans, hauling himself off the sofa with a soft grunt. Buck looks up from where he’s drying the last of the dishes, and based on his rigid posture and twitchy fingers, Eddie bets that the glass he’s holding has been dry for at least the last few minutes.
He really shouldn’t find that as endearing as he does.
“This better be good, Buckley. I was comfortable.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Buck says, flicking him in the arm with the dish towel before going back to drying the already-dry cup. “But you’re right, this really better be good. It’s the first family dinner I’ve been in charge of since you and Bobby got back, so everything needs to be perfect.”
“Buck,” Eddie huffs fondly, snagging the towel from Buck’s hands and tossing it onto the counter. He looks like he wants to reach out and grab it again, but Eddie’s stare holds him in place. “Relax. It’s just us. You’ve cooked dinner for us a million times.”
“I know, I just…” Buck trails off, staring into the pot of chili simmering on the stove. “This is special. We’re finally all together again, and I just want it to feel–”
“Like it used to?”
Buck sighs. “Yeah.”
Eddie, against his better judgement, braces a hand on Buck’s shoulder. It’s casual enough that it still feels like a friendly gesture, but the way his thumb briefly traces the length of Buck’s collarbone might look less than platonic to anyone else watching.
“It will,” Eddie reassures him. He can’t help but smile when he feels the tension in Buck’s shoulders dissolve under his touch. “Besides, with Bobby’s chili on the menu, what could go wrong?”
“Uh, excuse you, this is my chili,” Buck says, poking his finger into Eddie’s chest.
“Ohhh, it’s your chili.” Eddie throws up a hand in surrender. “So sorry, Chef Buckley, I meant no disrespect.”
“Shut up,” Buck laughs. “I just made a few adjustments to Bobby’s recipe, that’s all. Figured I couldn’t ride on his coattails forever.”
“I don’t know, we all kinda like Bobby’s coattails,” Eddie eyes the chili with faux suspicion.
“Just taste it,” Buck deadpans. He takes a step into Eddie’s space, almost hesitant, and the breath rushes out of Eddie’s lungs all at once.
Buck looks so…soft, like this– sweat clinging to his hairline, curls frizzing at the edges from the heat of the stove, a hand offering up a spoonful of chili for Eddie to taste. Eddie’s still holding on to his shoulder, his grip tight enough to distort the LAFD logo over his heart, but Buck doesn’t seem to mind. He hasn’t stopped staring at Eddie’s mouth once, like he’s afraid to look away and miss the moment the spoon touches his lips.
There’s so little space between them that Eddie can just barely hear the music playing from the earbuds dangling around Buck’s neck, something soft and folksy and– fuck, romantic. The melody swells, and with it comes a surge of heat in Eddie’s stomach that tugs him forward, his eyes slipping shut just as the first drop of chili hits his tongue.
He almost moans. The flavor is savory and rich, the kind of depth that takes time and patience to properly develop. It tastes exactly like the love that Buck pours into everything he does, and Eddie thinks he could eat it every day for the rest of his life and die a happy man.
“Well?” Buck asks.
Eddie swallows, then smiles. “You did good, bud.”
Buck practically glows at the praise, bouncing on the balls of his feet with a smile so soft and sweet and genuinely pleased that all Eddie wants to do is just–
Just say it.
He’s gay.
It’s hardly a secret at this point. Hen knows. Ravi definitely knows.
And when Buck murmurs, “H-Hang on, you’ve got a little–” and swipes the pad of his thumb across the corner of Eddie’s mouth, lifting it to his lips to lick away the drop of chili he’d missed?
Eddie knows. He knows, and it feels good.
“Alright, Buckaroo, how are we doing in– woah.”
Eddie fights every instinct in his body to keep from jumping back like Buck had burned him, even as Chimney stares at them in open disbelief.
“Good timing, Chim. Can you and Eddie set the table?” Buck asks, turning back to the stove and putting a reasonable, casual amount of distance between them.
“Uh…yeah. For sure,” Chimney says slowly. Buck nods before popping his earbuds back in and getting to work.
They start setting the table in silence.
That silence lasts all of ten seconds.
“Ok, what the hell was that?” Chimney finally asks under his breath.
Eddie can feel his cheeks start to heat up. “What was what?”
“The– the whole– Eddie, he just licked chili off of your mouth.”
“He licked chili off of his thumb,” Eddie hisses, watching Buck like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t hear a word Chimney says. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Well it looked like it was about to be!” Chimney insisted. “And if you don’t want to tell anyone yet, that’s fine, but you know I’m terrible at keeping secrets, especially from Maddie–”
“There is no secret,” Eddie cuts him off before he can get carried away. “Buck and I are friends. Best friends. That’s all.”
Chimney levels him with the most unamused stare Eddie’s ever seen, and he lives in the same house as Christopher Diaz.
“Best friends.”
“Yes. Best friends.”
Chimney huffs, setting down the last bowl with a clatter. “Okay, well, I’m pretty sure the only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Buck is you, so. You just let me know when you’re done being an idiot.”
Eddie freezes, a spoon dangling limply in his hand. That’s…okay. That’s a lot.
It’s a lot, because Eddie has spent the last month knowing that he’s attracted to Buck. On paper, it made perfect sense: Buck is a man, Buck is hot, Eddie apparently likes hot men. Simple math.
But love? Love is a different equation altogether, the kind with letters and exponents and weird squiggles that swirl around in his head and make him feel dizzy. Fuck, he’s not even sure he remembers how to breathe, let alone do…romance calculus.
This whole time, he really thought this was all going to blow over. He’s just been waiting for that bubble of infatuation to burst, like it has with every other relationship he’s ever been in, so things could go back to normal and Eddie could finally move on. But maybe…
Maybe he can’t. Maybe he never could.
Maybe it was never just a crush.
“…I’m gay.”
“…And I’m Chimney?” Chimney’s brows pinch together. “Are we just saying things we already know, or–hey!”
Hen slaps him on the arm a second time for good measure. “You are no help, Howard Han.”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to be helping! God, when did you even get here?” Chimney hisses under his breath, rubbing at the sore spot on his bicep. “Cap, can you take over? This might be above my pay grade.”
A firm hand lands heavily on Eddie’s shoulder. He gulps.
“Yeah, I got this one,” Bobby says from behind him. “Do me a favor and distract the chef while we talk?”
“Yeah, good idea,” Chimney mutters. He wanders off towards the kitchen with Hen in tow, likely to ask Buck to explain the difference between panthers and jaguars again. That one always gets him going.
“So.” Bobby steers him towards the couch. “What’s going through your head right now?”
“I…” Eddie goes quiet, because really, what isn’t going through his head right now? His mind is still going a mile a minute, replaying every second of the last seven years to try and isolate the moment his feelings for Buck started to change. “He’s my best friend, Cap.”
“Yeah, he is,” Bobby says, smiling gently. “But people fall in love with their best friends all the time, Eddie.”
Eddie sinks down onto the couch with his head in his hands, trying to keep his breathing steady.
“I really thought it was just because he‘s…y’know, hot,” he mutters under his breath, too embarrassed to say it with his whole chest in front of Bobby of all people. “But now I’m wondering if I was just too stubborn to look at it any closer. Then Chimney drops the L-word like it’s nothing, and I’m–”
“Panicking?” Bobby offers up.
Eddie thinks for a second, then shakes his head. “No, not panicking, just…processing. Trying to wrap my head around it.”
“Hmm…I’m curious about something.”
“Fire away,” Eddie says. Not that he feels like he has an explanation for much of anything right now.
“Being gay doesn’t seem to bother you.” Eddie furrows his brow and Bobby is quick to raise both hands in supplication. “Not that it should, obviously. But given your upbringing, I’m surprised that you seem more hung up on having feelings for Buck specifically than men in general.”
Bobby does have a point. Eddie was raised knowing that there was only one way to be a real man– marry a woman, have a bunch of kids, and provide for your family, even at the expense of actually being a father. Tack on the Catholicism of it all, and Eddie being gay is just about his parents’ worst nightmare. God knows they’re probably giving themselves the Sign of the Cross just from him thinking about it, even 800 miles away.
But that’s the thing– Eddie doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks anymore. Not his parents, not the Church, not even the God they claim to speak for. He’s spent enough time trying to be the man they told him he should be, when the people who really matter already love him for the man that he is. No hoops to jump through. No sins to be forgiven.
“When I left my dad behind at that chess tournament in Texas, I left all of the baggage he saddled me with behind with him.” Eddie shrugs. “So if me being gay is gonna be a problem for them, then that’s their choice. But they’ll have to forget about ever seeing Christopher again.”
Bobby’s eyebrows go up. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Eddie says, his voice hard. “I will never let them teach him that it’s wrong to be who you are. He deserves so much better than that.”
A smile half-forms on Bobby’s face, hindered by the profound sadness in his eyes. “You’re right, he does,” he says, pinning Eddie to his seat with a pointed stare. “But what about you?”
Eddie huffs out a breath, his body sagging, the bravado rapidly draining out of him. “…Father Brian told me that I don’t feel worthy of joy,” he finally admits.
“You two know each other?” Eddie nods, and Bobby hums, pondering for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t say he’s…completely off base.”
“Neither would I,” Eddie chuckles ruefully. “And Buck is…”
Bobby quirks an eyebrow. “Joy?”
Eddie’s vision flickers a bit at the edges. Memories, old and new, cycle hazily through his mind.
Buck waits for him at the baggage claim in LAX holding a beautifully shitty sign, the words “Welcome Home” written in wonky block letters and absolutely smothered in glitter. When he finally spots him, he drops it without a second thought, nearly trampling it under his feet just to get to Eddie and haul him into his arms.
Buck holds Christopher tight to his chest as he puts him to bed that same night, burying tears and soft “I missed you’s” into his curls while Eddie watches on from the doorway. Chris pretends to hate it, but he’s smiling even as he moans about not being a little kid anymore. They all know that he missed his Buck just as much as his Buck missed him.
Eddie and Buck are side by side during his first call back, the two of them working in tandem to evacuate residents from an apartment fire. They move with a familiar ease, implicitly aware of what the other will do before they even do it, and when they get the all-clear and Buck grins at him through the smoke and soot, it feels like he never even left.
Buck is in the kitchen at this exact moment, talking emphatically with his hands, chatting the team’s ears off about the intricacies of wild cat taxonomy, his smile so clear and bright it’s almost blinding–
“No,” Eddie breathes, his voice threatening to break. “He’s more than that. He is so much more. So if I’m not worthy of joy, then how can I be worthy of him?”
“Hey,” Bobby says, stern enough that Eddie instantly sits up straighter. “You know that isn’t true.”
Eddie just presses his lips together, his eyes rooted to the floor where that damn stain on the carpet is still there, mocking him. That ugly feeling from the bowling alley hits him at full force, a shard of ice driving into his gut and stealing the breath from his lungs.
“Eddie.” A hand grips his shoulder, and he forces his eyes back up to meet Bobby’s. “I fought for you to join this house because I knew that you could be the kind of partner Buck needed, and you’ve proven me right more times than I can count. But I didn’t pick you because of your performance at the academy, or your Silver Star, or any of the other things that made you look good on paper. I picked you because I knew from the moment I met you that you are a good man, not because of what you do, but because of who you are.”
Eddie doesn’t know what to say.
“…You mean that?”
“I do,” Bobby says firmly. “But even if I didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You don’t have to earn happiness, Eddie. You just have to be brave enough to reach out and grab it when it’s right in front of you.” Bobby squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, teary-eyed. “Take it from someone with more than a few regrets, kid– don’t waste another second worrying that you’re not good enough. Even if you weren’t, he would love you anyway.”
Even if you weren’t, he would love you anyway.
“…I love him,” he finally, finally says. “I love him so much I don’t know what to do with it, Bobby.”
A slow, proud smile splits Bobby’s face in two. He opens his arms. “Come here.”
Eddie collapses into his embrace, the tension flooding out of his body with a rush of breath. Bobby’s words sink into his skin like a balm for the worst of his insecurities, soothing decades old wounds and leaving him nearly trembling with relief when the pain finally subsides. If Bobby hears him sniffle a bit pathetically into his shoulder, he’s kind enough not to mention it.
The tears dissipate after about a minute, and Eddie feels better. Lighter. But something still nags at him, a thorn in his side that his fingers can’t quite reach.
“We’re still making a pretty big assumption here, Cap,” Eddie huffs as he pulls back, wiping away the tears still clinging to his lower lashes.
“What’s that?”
“That Buck loves me back.”
Bobby has the nerve to snort in Eddie’s face.
“Go wash up for dinner.” He leaves him with a pat on the back, but only makes it a few steps towards the kitchen before he turns around. “And Eddie?”
“Yeah, Cap?”
“There is no one in the world who knows you as well as Buck does.” Bobby winks. “So if you don’t want him to figure it out on his own, I’d tell him how you feel. Soon.”
Eddie watches him go, practically skipping his way back to the kitchen as if he didn’t just land another blow to Eddie’s delicate sanity. Bobby’s right– it’s a miracle that he’s managed to fly under Buck’s radar for this long, and now that he finally understands just how in love he really is, he is only going to get worse.
Case in point: he follows Bobby into the kitchen and nearly trips over his own feet when Buck watches him pass, his eyes alight with curiosity and something else Eddie can’t quite place.
“What was that about?” he asks, sidling up next to Eddie at the sink with a new stack of dirty dishes. Eddie’s hands falter as he works a dollop of soap into a lather between his palms– Buck is close, their arms pressed flush from shoulder to elbow, and his body heat alone is enough to make Eddie’s knees feel wobbly.
“Nothing,” Eddie shrugs. He keeps his eyes trained on his hands, the citrusy bubbles coating his skin, and far away from Buck’s eyes staring at him with open interest. “Just a pep talk.”
“Looked like quite the talk. You sure you’re okay?” Buck hums, head tilted.
“Yeah, man, I’m good.”
“You know you can always talk to me, right?”
“Of course I do,” Eddie says, then nearly squeaks when Buck lays a hand between his shoulder blades, the tips of his fingers skating just above his shirt collar. “Look, I know I don’t have a stellar track record, but if something was up, I would tell you. I promise.”
It’s a bold-faced lie, at least in this context, and a pang of guilt tugs insistently at his stomach. He knows he’s being cryptic, knows Buck will worry about him in that very Buck way of his, but what else is he supposed to say?
Hey Buck, I realized that I’m gay because your arms make me want to commit arson just so you’ll have to throw me over your shoulder like a ragdoll. Also, I’m in love with you. Thoughts?
Oh yeah, real smooth, Diaz.
But Buck, seemingly unfazed, just gives him an easy-going smile and soothes his thumb over the downy hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, Eds, I know you will.” And then he’s gone, chili in hand, to join the rest of the team for dinner.
Eddie exhales, slow and shaky, but relieved. Buck always means well, but it feels like Eddie only just finished gathering up all of his missing pieces– the last thing he needs is for Buck to go poking around in the mess of his insides before he’s done figuring out where they all fit.
But in the lingering warmth of Bobby’s knowing smile, he decides not to wait too long. Even if the others are wrong, even if the whole thing is doomed to fail, Buck still deserves to know the truth– that someone loves him. That Eddie loves him.
And when the time is right, just them in their home without an audience of eager firefighters watching their every move, Eddie is going to tell him.
~oOo~
“Christopher, we’re home!”
“He’s not here,” Buck reminds him, yawning around his words as he collapses onto their couch. “Sleepover at the Han’s tonight, remember?”
“Ugh, that’s right.” Eddie drags a weary hand down his face. “God, you’d think we’d have a little more energy after such an easy shift.”
“Nah, that’s the problem. We got to lay around too much.” Buck lets his head fall back onto the armrest, eyes shut. “And when we did go out, it was mostly med calls. Last week we responded to, what, four different two-alarm fires?”
“Five,” Eddie grimaces, nudging his socked foot into Buck’s leg where it dangles off the side of the couch. “And I’d like to avoid starting a sixth, so I’m gonna need you in the kitchen. We haven’t eaten in hours.”
“Mm, no thanks. Can’t be hungry if you’re asleep,” he grumbles, his face already starting to go slack. For a moment, Eddie can’t help but stare– Buck is so pretty like this, all soft and sleepy with his curls fanned out against the couch cushion. He really does hate to ruin it…but not that much.
A quick flick of his finger and Buck is wide awake, rubbing at the side of his nose. “Uh, ow?”
“Yeah, ow,” Eddie mocks him, flicking him again for good measure. “Come on. Twenty minutes on your feet, and then we can relax.”
Buck lets out a put-upon sigh that has Eddie fighting back a smile. “Fine, I’ll make sure you don’t burn the house down.”
“Thank you. Now was that so hard?”
Eddie dodges a half-hearted punch to the shoulder and smiles all the way to the kitchen.
Dinner comes together in record time for two exhausted firefighters. It’s nothing fancy, just frozen tortellini and marinara sauce from the jar, but Eddie doesn’t care– after spending so much time apart, he’s going to savor every moment he gets to share with Buck at this table, in their kitchen, in their home.
“So I was thinking,” Buck says between bites, “Maybe we could take Chris to the aquarium tomorrow?”
“The aquarium?” he hums with faux indifference, fighting the urge to smile. “I don’t know, doesn’t sound like something Chris would like. You know, he’s always hated animals?”
Buck narrows his eyes. “Eddie.”
“Kidding, I’m kidding,” he relents, holding up both hands. “Of course we can go, I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“Oh he will, trust me,” Buck insists, grinning brightly. “They just opened their new sea otter habitat last week, and it’s got this amazing water slide–”
Eddie has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from sighing like a lovesick puppy. Buck is adorable, all bright-eyed and eager over a simple afternoon out with him and Christopher, and it’s so goddamn endearing that for a split second, Eddie stops caring about waiting for ‘the right moment’– he wants to tell Buck now. He wants to tell him he loves him right this second, until he’s blue in the face and his lips are numb and his tongue sits too heavy in his mouth to say another word. He wants to give Buck everything he’s got, and then some.
But Buck deserves so much more than a stilted love confession over bowls of mediocre pasta. He deserves romance. He deserves to be wooed.
Eddie just needs a plan. He can control himself until he comes up with a plan.
“Did you know that sea otters hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart?” Buck continues, easily slipping back into ‘fun fact’ mode. “You can have, like, a dozen of them all cuddled up in a ‘raft’ to protect each other from predators and keep themselves warm while they sleep. One big, happy family in the middle of the ocean…” He trails off, smiling fondly to himself before lifting his eyes to meet Eddie’s. “Kind of sweet when you think about it, huh?”
Oh fuck. Oh God, he’s gonna tell him. Eddie has no plan, no self-control, and he is going to tell him. He can feel the words forming on his tongue, tickling his lips, pounding at the back of his teeth, and he has no fucking idea what to do–
“Yep, nice,” is all he says before shoving a spoonful of tortellini into his mouth to shut himself up. Apparently, that was the best idea his brain could come up with under extreme duress.
Buck tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as if he’s fighting back a smile, before he shrugs and launches into a well-researched treatise on sea otter social dynamics. It’s the second time in two days that he’s piqued Buck’s interest and gotten off scot-free, but Eddie’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when he feels like he’s living in one of those stupid drug commercials: side effects of 30 years of repression may include nausea, vomiting, and all of your brain cells suddenly being replaced with clumps of belly button lint.
After they finish cleaning up, Eddie idles near the sink, leaning back with his forearms braced against the countertop. The setting sun bathes the room in swaths of orange and pink, as if the Universe is trying to make nice by offering up some mood lighting for the conversation Eddie is blatantly avoiding.
Considering Buck is currently bent over rifling through their meager selection of beer, completely unaware of the obscene picture he paints with his ass in the air, it feels like a pretty shitty olive branch.
Eddie’s about to tell him to just forget about the beer so he can escape to the privacy of his bedroom, content to try this whole song and dance again tomorrow after he’s had some time to think, when his phone buzzes on the countertop. Chris’ contact photo lights up the screen, and Eddie scrambles to answer the call, more than grateful for the distraction.
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hey, mijo! How’s it going over there?”
“Good!” Christopher’s voice is a bit garbled through their FaceTime connection, but his smile is clear, even with chocolate syrup coating his mouth. “We miss you guys! Jee, come say hi.”
“Is that Chris?” Buck asks, his voice muffled from inside the fridge.
“Yep, and your niece.”
“Alright, two for one special!” Two random beers in hand, he settles in next to Eddie, putting himself in better view of the camera just as Jee Yun comes into frame, a vision in a pink feather boa and a plastic tiara resting a bit crooked between her pigtails. Denny and Mara crowd in behind her, the four of them wearing matching sugary smiles.
“Uncle Buck!” Jee cheers, waving her sticky hand at the camera. “We made sundaes!”
“I can see that!” Buck laughs. His breath puffs warmly across Eddie’s cheek, who could really use that beer right about now. “I hope you’re all keeping Christopher out of trouble.”
“Nope,” Mara says proudly, popping the ‘p’. “We’re on our third bowls.”
Eddie levels an unamused stare at the camera. “Chimney.”
“What?” Chimney pops his head in from the kitchen, seemingly in the middle of doing the dishes. “You try to say no to four kids giving you puppy dog eyes at once. Especially your kid, Diaz, those things are lethal.”
“Don’t we know it,” Buck laughs, nudging his shoulder into Eddie’s. Eddie fights back a smile, a blush crawling its way up his neck. “I’m guessing my sister is innocent in all of this?”
“Oh, of course,” Maddie calls out from offscreen. “I would never be so irresponsible.”
“Yeah, Aunt Maddie made me eat broccoli, too, I promise!” Chris laughs. The other kids giggle into their bowls of ice cream without a care in the world, seemingly unaware of the way Buck and Eddie have both gone incredibly still.
Aunt Maddie.
“You, uh,” Buck says, running a hand through his curls. “You guys look like you’re having a lot of fun! Thanks again for hosting, by the way.”
“No thanks necessary, you know family sleepovers are our specialty,” Maddie says, finally popping into view with a squirming infant in her arms. “And I will feed your kid at least one more vegetable before I give him back, I promise.”
It takes Eddie a good few seconds after Buck doesn’t answer to realize she’s talking to him.
“Yeah, uh. Good, thanks,” he stammers. “Chris, you listen to your Au– to Maddie, alright?”
“Yes, Dad,” Christopher groans. “You don’t have to remind me.”
“Alright, leftovers are put away, dishes are done, it is finally movie time!” Chimney waves to the camera. “Have a good night, guys, we promise to get your kid back to you in one piece!”
“Eh, just aim for two or three, he’ll be fine.”
“Dad!”
“Love you, mijo,” Eddie laughs. He kisses the tips of his fingers, then presses them to his son’s giggling face. “Have fun.”
“Love you! Love you, Buck!”
“Love you, too, Superman.”
The call ends, and the room descends into silence.
“...So, uh.”
“Have you heard that one before?” Buck finally asks.
Eddie keeps his eyes trained on his phone even after the screen goes dark. He is not going to tell Buck he loves him just because Chris called Maddie his aunt. He is not going to tell Buck he loves him just because Chris called Maddie his aunt. He is not –
“Nope. Pretty sure that’s new,” he says, clearing his throat. “But it’s sweet. I grew up with a Tio Roberto who was just a family friend, too.”
“Right,” Buck hums. He sounds blissfully normal about the whole thing, and Eddie cannot relate. “Same thing.”
Except it isn’t. It is so not the same thing. Chris called Maddie his aunt because she’s Buck’s sister, not because she’s Eddie’s friend, which would mean that Buck–
“Well, as good as beer and a movie sound right now, I’m actually kind of exhausted,” Eddie says, forcing himself to yawn. “And so are you, if I recall, so. Bed?”
Something sparks in Buck’s eyes at that, curious and amused, and Eddie needs to get out of here before he puts his foot any further into his mouth.
“Sure, Eds,” he huffs, an almost-laugh that follows Eddie as he starts the slow retreat back to his bedroom. “See you in the morning?”
Just keep moving. “Yep, see you then.”
“Don’t forget to text Chris about the aquarium so he doesn’t make plans with his friends,” Buck calls after him.
Almost there. “I won’t!”
“Oh, and do you want chocolate chips or blueberries in your–”
“BlueberriessoundgreatthanksBuck!” Eddie forces the words out in one breath, letting them slip past the door just as it closes. “Ay, Dios mio,” he mutters, resting his forehead against the wood. He can’t believe he got out of there unscathed.
Even though he just fought tooth and nail to escape, Eddie can’t help but let his mind wander back to the living room as he goes through the motions of his nighttime routine. Is Buck giving in to the post-shift exhaustion, already curled up and snoring on the couch? Is he scrolling aimlessly through his phone, about to text him some ridiculous meme he won’t understand? Is he lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering why Eddie has been making such an ass of himself over the last month?
That last thought has heat rising in his cheeks as he crawls into bed. He hasn’t actually dated that many people, but Eddie always thought he was pretty smooth when it came to relationships. Making his girlfriends blush from a few pretty words almost felt like a game, one he learned how to win from a young age because getting girls to like you meant the other boys would think you were cool.
In hindsight, he really should’ve realized he was gay a long time ago.
But that’s the thing– he’s never had to do this. Being in a relationship has always felt like a performance, a costume that he could put on and take off with relative ease. Guilt twists in his stomach at the thought, but he won’t pretend it isn’t true. For a gay man, he has been unfairly lucky to get to be with some really amazing women, but whenever they weren’t around, it was easy to just…stop thinking about them. He didn’t want them the way he wants Buck.
Buck, who isn’t even in the room right now, and yet he’s all Eddie can think about. What he looks like, what he sounds like, what he smells like. The movie they could be watching if Eddie knew how to be normal around him. The words he desperately wants to say, because if he has to wait any longer to know if Buck is gonna say them back, he is going to lose his mind.
That’s what it boils down to. Buck drives Eddie crazy, and he never learned how to pretend to be sane.
He covers his face with his hands, burying a groan into his sweaty palms. He’s made himself look like an idiot more times in the last month than he can remember, but his brain still tries its best, cycling through a highlight reel of his worst moments entirely against his will. The constant blushing, the stumbling over his words, the lingering stares every time Buck entered a room. God, no wonder the entire 118 has already caught onto him– everyone except Buck, of course.
…Wait.
“There is no one in this world who knows you as well as Buck does. So if you don’t want him to figure it out on his own, I’d tell him how you feel.”
That’s not–
“I’m pretty sure the only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Buck is you.”
Okay…okay, but Buck never–
“If something was up, I would tell you.” “Yeah, Eds, I know you will.”
Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt.
Will. Not “would”. Will.
“…Son of a bitch.”
Eddie throws himself out of bed and stumbles to the door, his vision pulsing red at the edges. He doesn’t have a plan so much as a half-formed desire to wring Buck’s neck in his sleep, except–
When he opens the door, Buck is already standing there. Awake, pink-cheeked, his fist hovering in mid-air like he was just about to knock.
“…Hey.”
Eddie doesn’t say a word. He only scoffs as he takes a step forward, pointing at Buck with a knowing stare that screams “you are a dead man”.
Buck has the audacity to smile, far too self-satisfied for Eddie’s liking. “Guess you figured it out?”
Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’.
“Got it.” There’s a pause, and then Buck’s gaze meets Eddie’s head on, his face softening into something sincere. “Would it help my case if I told you that I’ve been in love with you this entire time?”
Hearing those words come out of Buck’s mouth, several things happen to Eddie’s body all at once.
His heart races.
His spine stiffens.
His ears start to ring.
But worst of all, his lungs seize around a laugh that Eddie has to physically swallow back down into his chest to keep it from ruining the moment.
Not that there’s much of a moment to ruin, he thinks deliriously, because Buck just told him he loves him on a random Tuesday. He’s standing in the open doorway of Eddie’s bedroom in an old t-shirt and the pair of boxers with a worn-out waistband that he only wears to sleep, curls wild and pillow-mussed atop his head, and he loves him. There’s no pretense, no fanfare, no plan, just. Them. And Buck loves him.
It’s ridiculous.
It’s perfect.
But he has another thing coming if he thinks he’s getting off that easy.
“Depends,” he says, jaw tight, barely holding his stern facade together. “You gonna tell me why you’ve been fucking with me?”
A flicker of satisfaction flashes in Buck’s eyes. “Pretty sure I just did.”
“You–” Eddie chuckles, dark and a bit delirious. “No me lo puedo creerte ahora mismo. Juro por Dios, si no fuera tan jodidamente feliz, te mataría.” I cannot believe you right now. I swear to God, if I wasn’t so fucking happy, I would kill you.
Buck’s blush crawls its way down his neck, barely visible in the dim light from the lamp on his nightstand.
“I don’t know what you just said, but it sounded kind of pissed,” he says. Eddie just crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyebrows raised– he’s the furthest thing from pissed, but Buck doesn’t have to know that yet. “Okay, that’s fair.”
“Just– get in here.” Eddie snags him by the elbow and drags him into the room, shutting the door behind them. He gestures expectantly. “When did you figure it out?”
Buck has the decency to look sheepish. “Uh…probably earlier than you think.”
“When, Evan?”
“Alright, alright.” Buck sucks in a breath. “It was your first shift back, when you were watching me work out.” Eddie’s nostrils flare, and Buck can’t hide his wince. “Told you.”
”No, it’s–” Eddie sighs. “It’s fine. I just…was I that bad?”
Buck presses his lips flat, amused. “Eddie. Your son just called my sister his aunt.”
“I meant at the firehouse, smartass,” he deadpans.
Buck runs his fingers through his curls, a nervous habit he indulges in more often now that they’ve grown out a bit longer.
“Well, you were…different,” he says. “But I didn’t know what it meant, at first. I mean, you’re my best friend, you’re– you were straight. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but…”
“But?”
Buck ducks his head, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a shy, lopsided smile. “You made it kinda hard not to.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He takes an unconscious step closer.
“Keep talking.”
“So I went to Maddie,” he admits, a bit hesitant. “Just about how I felt, not about whether or not you might be– anyway. She basically told me to just keep being myself, and if things were meant to change between us, then they would.”
“Mhm,” Eddie hums, only slightly amused. “Is that why you ordered your bowling shirt three sizes too small?”
Buck shrugs. “Well, after I talked to Maddie, I also talked to Josh. His idea was better.”
Eddie’s pretty sure his eye starts to twitch. Of course, of course that was Josh Russo’s doing. He doesn’t know whether to kill him or send him a gift basket.
“So you were testing me.” Eddie takes another step forward. “The teasing. The touching. Ending up in my lap.”
“Now that, that one was an accident.” Buck’s smile turns wicked, his eyes flickering briefly to Eddie’s waistband. “But definitely a happy one.”
Eddie furrows his brow. What did he– oh. Oh no.
Eddie’s cheeks practically burst into flames, his eyes wide and apologetic. “Buck, I’m so–”
“Don’t be. I’m not.” His fingers slip easily over Eddie’s wrist, holding him steady. “I mean, talk about the final nail in the ‘straight best friend’ coffin.”
Eddie drags his free hand down his face, groaning pathetically into his palm. “God, that’s so fucking humiliating–”
“It’s cute.”
Eddie goes still. Butterflies burst to life in his stomach.
Buck tugs him closer, his eyes alight with gentle mirth. “I mean it,” he insists. “I barely had to do anything, and you just…it was so cute, Eddie.”
Eddie lets out a slow, shaky breath. They’re close enough now that he has to tilt his head to meet Buck’s eyes, an unfamiliar feeling that swoops dangerously inside him.
“So that’s why you decided to keep doing it?” Eddie asks, his icy facade finally starting to melt. “Because I’m cute? ”
Buck gives him a boyish grin. “I mean– that’s not not why.”
“Buck.”
“I know, I know. I should’ve said something sooner, but I didn’t want to pressure you,” he finally says. “I mean, showing off a little is one thing–”
Eddie snorts, eyebrows raised.
“Okay, a lot,” Buck admits. “But I know you, Eddie. If I told you how I felt, you would’ve felt like you had to say something back, and I just– I wanted you to have time to figure yourself out without having to worry about me.” He swallows roughly. “About being with me.”
The implication hangs heavy in the air, honey-sweet and tantalizing.
“And is that what you want?” Eddie’s hands find Buck’s face, thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. “To be with me?”
He feels more than hears the rush of breath that leaves Buck’s mouth.
“Yeah,” Buck huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
Eddie wonders, vaguely, if this was the temptation that Eve had to face that day in the Garden– the promise of knowledge, of fulfillment, of joy. Was she afraid of how badly she wanted it? Did she regret it the second the fruit touched her lips, no matter how sweet it tasted, how desperately she wanted another bite?
It’s an interesting thought. But as Eddie soothes his thumbs gently over the apples of Buck’s cheeks, watching his blush deepen with each pass, he decides that he’s had enough Biblical allegory for one lifetime. Slowly, reverently, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss where the color burns brightest.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he breathes into the flushed skin. He pulls back just enough for their eyes to meet. “Buck, I–”
“I know.” Buck tilts his forehead down to rest against his, both hands clutching desperately at his waist. “I know, Eddie.”
“No, you don’t,” Eddie says, a bit mischievous. “I haven’t even gotten to say it, yet.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I want to.”
“I know, Eds, I just–” Buck’s fingers curl white-knuckled into his shirt, balling the fabric in his fists. “I wanna kiss you so bad right now and I don’t think I can wait.”
“Then shut up and let me say it!” Eddie laughs.
“Oh my God, you are such a–”
Eddie rolls his eyes and drags Buck down into a firm, desperate kiss, swallowing the rest of the sentence into his mouth.
He’s instantly struck by how different this feels– to kiss someone bigger than him, to be swallowed up in the bulk of Buck’s arms, to have to reach up to sink his fingers into his hair. Eddie isn’t even that much smaller than him, not really, but the way Buck’s massive hands span his back makes him feel like it, and he wants more. He wants so much more.
He forces himself to pull away with a wet smack, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. He looks at Buck expectantly.
“There. Can I say it now?”
“Uh.” Buck blinks, eyes hazy, mouth hanging open like he’s waking up from a daydream. “Y-Yeah.”
Eddie smiles. The air goes thick and molten between them, and Eddie just can't help himself– he leans in to kiss him again, slower, softer, letting his lips linger when it finally breaks.
“…I love you.”
No stress. No strategy. Just them.
And apparently, that’s all Buck needs to claim Eddie’s mouth with a broken groan, guiding him backwards towards the bed.
Eddie molds himself to Buck’s body as they fall onto the mattress, laughter spilling into his warm mouth, running his fingers through his curls just because he can. He’s dreamed of this exact moment for so long, and now that he gets to have it, he wants to commit every bit of it to memory– the dark glint in Buck’s eye as he strips him out of his shirt for the first time, the wet drag of his lips biting a trail of purple marks down the length of his neck.
A shaky gasp of “Buck” rips from Eddie’s throat, and Buck sinks his teeth into his skin like he wants to taste it at the source.
“I can’t believe I get to have you like this,” he groans, soothing the reddened mark with his tongue. “You sound so fucking good, Eds.”
“Yeah?” Eddie tugs at Buck’s hair until he lifts his head, resting his chin on his breastbone to meet his playful gaze. “Bet I’ll sound even better when you–”
“Not yet,” Buck begs sharply, fingers digging into Eddie’s hips. “Please.”
Eddie’s lips curl into a slow, wicked smile.
“Ohhh. You’re all worked up, huh?” he purrs, tracing his thumb over the flushed edge of Buck’s ear. “That was fast.”
“Eddie,” Buck whines, long and low, burying his face in Eddie’s chest. “I’m really trying to keep it together here, man.”
Eddie hums, pondering that thought for a moment. And then–
Buck lands flat on his back, staring wide-eyed and breathless as Eddie smoothly straddles his hips.
“First of all,” he says, snagging Buck’s wrists and pinning them both to the bed. “Don’t call me ‘man’ when we’re in bed together.”
Buck squirms a bit, testing the strength of Eddie’s grip. “Did you seriously just–”
“Second of all.” Eddie’s voice drops a full octave. Buck’s mouth shuts with an audible click. “You have been teasing me nonstop for weeks. If I didn’t get to ‘keep it together’, then neither do you.”
“Fuck,” Buck breathes, finally melting against the mattress. “Yeah, yes, just– Eddie, please–”
Eddie covers Buck’s lips with his own, and from there it’s a mess of tangled sheets and wandering hands and clothes being shed and tossed to random corners of the room. Buck kisses him like he was made for it, huffing out sweet little whimpers that Eddie takes greedily into his mouth. He really is so sweet like this, pliant and needy in the palm of Eddie’s hand, and it makes something possessive burn hot in his chest as he turns his attention to Buck’s cock, straining valiantly against the confines of his underwear.
“Take these off.” Eddie tugs at the waistband, the elastic snapping back against Buck’s stomach. “Wanna see you.”
Buck shucks them off so forcefully, the fabric nearly tears. His cock springs free with a wet smack, and Eddie’s mouth starts to water– it’s just as big and thick as the rest of him, the head already flushed and weeping, and Eddie wants it in his mouth. He wants it in his mouth yesterday.
“If I blow you, are you gonna cum?”
Buck nearly chokes on his own spit. “Wha– Eddie, you can’t just fucking say that– ”
“If I blow you, are you gonna cum?”
Eddie watches as Buck struggles to keep his hips flat on the bed, squirming under the weight of the gaze locked onto his stupid, massive cock. He takes a deep breath, fingers curling into the sheets like he’s bracing himself for impact.
“No.”
Eddie smiles.
He keeps smiling even as he takes the head of Buck’s cock into his mouth, eyes slipping shut with a blissed out hum.
“Oh– fuck,” Buck grunts, one hand flying to the back of Eddie’s head, gripping desperately at his hair. “Oh my God. Eddie. H-holy shit, I– mmph.”
It’s at this moment that Eddie realizes he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. In all his pining over Buck, he never thought he’d get this far, never stopped to consider the fact that the only cock he has any experience with is his own. But here he is, the spongy head of Buck’s dick resting on his tongue, and he–
Fuck, he loves it.
Inexperience be damned, Eddie dives in with enthusiasm, taking care to tuck his teeth behind his lips as he slides them down the length of Buck’s cock. His eyes roll back into his head at the way it pins his tongue to the floor of his mouth, his jaw aching deliciously as it stretches to fit him inside. He can only take about half of it without gagging, but that doesn’t stop him from bobbing his mouth eagerly over every inch he can manage, soaking in every one Buck’s strangled moans.
Above him, Buck’s back arches off the bed like he’s been struck by lightning a second time, his fingers tightening almost painfully in Eddie’s hair.
“E-Eddie,” he gasps, almost scandalized. “You– oh fuck, just like that, so fucking good, baby.”
Heat flares to life in Eddie’s stomach, his cock straining almost painfully where it rubs against the bed. His eyes flutter open to take in the absolute mess he’s made of Buck– thighs trembling on either side of Eddie’s head, face crumpled with pleasure, mouth hanging open around a stream of garbled praise. He’s a wreck. He’s gorgeous.
Eddie wants to make it worse.
Buck whines sharply as Eddie pulls off his cock with a soft pop. “Eddie, what–”
“I need you inside me.”
Buck sits up, chest heaving, and then–
“Get up here.”
Eddie scrambles into Buck’s lap, dragging him by the hair into a filthy kiss. He licks into his mouth, letting him taste himself on Eddie’s tongue as he yanks his underwear down and off. He wraps a hand around Eddie’s cock just as he ducks down to take one of his nipples into his mouth, a broken cry falling softly from Eddie’s lips.
“I don’t know who taught you to suck cock like that,” Buck croons, nipping at the swollen bud. “But they deserve a medal.”
“Shu—mmph—shut up, Buck,” Eddie laughs, cradling Buck’s head against his chest with a tight grip on his curls. “Where’s your lube, Jesus Christ–”
“I got it, I got it,” Buck giggles, fumbling blindly at his nightstand. He keeps Eddie balanced on his lap with a hand on the small of his back, pressing short, sweet kisses over his pounding heart. “God, I love you. I can’t believe this is real.”
Eddie buries a smile into Buck’s hair. “Neither can I.”
And really, he can’t. He can’t even believe he’s the same person who doubted if he could have this, if he should have this. Worthiness feels like a faraway concept when you have Evan Buckley in your bed, his marks bitten into your skin, his cock smearing a sticky trail of precum into your hip.
Buck snags the lube from the drawer, tossing it next to them on the mattress. He presses a final kiss to Eddie’s chest and lets it linger, as if he wants to memorize the feeling of Eddie’s heartbeat against his lips. Eddie lets the warmth of his embrace ground him, settling into his arms with a happy sigh.
“Have you ever done this before?” Buck asks, eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s.
Eddie shakes his head, carding his fingers through Buck’s curls. “Nope.”
“Not even by yourself?”
“Never thought to try,” Eddie says. Admitting it feels silly, considering how desperate he is to have Buck split him in half right now, but it’s true. “Guess you’re just gonna have to take good care of me, huh?”
Now that– that has determination sparking in Buck’s eyes, an eager grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, I will.” He pulls Eddie down into another kiss, popping the cap on the lube with a soft snick. “Gonna make you feel so good, Eddie.”
And Buck is nothing if not a man of his word. When the tip of his finger presses inside him for the first time, Eddie’s head lolls forward, nose nuzzling into Buck’s hair with a cut-off whimper.
“Too much?” Buck asks. So attentive. So good.
“Not enough.” Eddie clings to Buck’s shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss over his birthmark. “Keep going, baby. I won’t break.”
Buck does as he’s told, panting hot and wet against Eddie’s collarbone as his finger slides all the way inside him. Even with how gentle he’s been, it feels fucking huge , so much so that Eddie has no idea how he’s going to manage to take a second one, let alone the monster between Buck’s legs.
Buck takes Eddie’s cock in his hand, stroking him with practiced ease. “You feel so good, Eds. So fucking tight. If I come too fast, you gotta promise not to make fun of me.”
Eddie huffs a laugh into Buck’s hair. “That’s if we can get you inside me at all, bud. You’re kinda…”
Buck quirks an eyebrow. He twists his wrist just right on the upstroke. “Big?”
“Y-yeah,” Eddie moans, hips stuttering in his grip.
“Hm. So are you,” Buck muses, watching the way Eddie’s cock fills his hand. “Bet I could feel you in my throat.”
Eddie’s insides go molten at the thought. Each careful thrust of Buck’s finger comes easier now, the added pleasure of a hand on his cock and filthy words in his ear sapping all the tension out of his body. He sags in Buck’s grip, resting his forehead on his shoulder, letting him do all the work to keep them both upright.
“That’s it,” Buck breathes into Eddie’s ear, chuckling when he feels him shiver. “Just relax. Do you want another?”
“H-holy shit,” Eddie cries, grinding back against Buck’s finger. “I– yeah, I’m good. Give me another.”
Buck doesn’t make him wait. He prods at his hole with a second finger, adding more lube to ease the way, and watches Eddie’s face fall to pieces as he presses inside, carving out space inside of him for his cock.
“So pretty,” he sighs, laying a sweet kiss on Eddie’s temple. “Tell me how it feels, Eds.”
“It’s…f-fuck, full.” Eddie sucks a mark into the hollow of Buck’s throat just to ground himself, to keep from floating away on a cloud of whatever insane sex magic Buck has been hiding from him for the last eight years. “You feel– oh, fuck!”
Buck adjusts the angle of his wrist, curling his fingers just right, and Eddie nearly comes on the spot.
“Mm. There it is.”
“There what is?!” Eddie demands, eyes wide, panting like he just ran a marathon.
“Eddie, meet your prostate,” Buck says, grinning proudly. “I’m sure you two will be fast friends.”
“Oh my God, you’re insane.” Eddie pounds his fist half-heartedly into Buck’s chest. “I fell in love with an insane person.”
“Yeah, you did.” Buck nudges his fingers right back into the same spot, satisfaction curling through him as Eddie’s eyes roll back into his head, a wail tearing its way up from his throat. “But something tells me you don’t really mind.”
Eddie doesn’t mind. He can’t mind. He doesn’t have a brain anymore, or a body, or a single thought other than fuck shit oh fuck oh my god yes please more.
“Don’t stop,” he pants, clutching Buck’s curls in a death grip. “Don’t fucking stop.”
And that is all Buck needs to hear.
Eddie seizes in Buck’s grip as he redoubles his efforts, driving his fingers into Eddie’s prostate with a growl that borders on feral. He feels insane, riding Buck’s fingers like he was made for it, pleading for more until his tongue gives out, reduced to a stream of helpless, senseless sounds against the hollow of Buck’s throat. By the time he has three fingers inside of him, stretching him beyond anything he ever thought possible, Eddie’s not sure he even knows his own name.
But he does know Buck’s.
“Buck,” Eddie cries, bucking up into his hand and back against his fingers in a single mind-numbing motion. “Buck, I’m gonna come. I’m– I can’t, I’m gonna come, Buck–”
“I've got you.” Buck drags him into something he can barely call a kiss, their mouths sharing space and breath as Eddie soars towards his peak. “So good for me, feel so fucking perfect. Fuck, I wanna see you come. Let go, Eds, come on. I’m here, I love you, come for me–”
Eddie comes with a broken wail. It tears through him like a wildfire, flames licking at his nerve endings, and all he can do is sit back and let Buck carry him through it. Buck tilts his head to watch Eddie’s cum spill over his fist, murmuring sweet praise and “I love you’s” into his hair as he trembles through what has to be the most intense orgasm of his life.
In the aftermath, Eddie realizes his foot is asleep. His knees ache, his throat burns, and he’s pretty sure he pulled a muscle in his back.
He feels incredible.
“…Wow. That was–”
Buck cuts him off with a desperate kiss, clutching at his hair, pawing insistently at his ass.
“Eddie, I need to come,” he pleads, eyes wide and wanting.
Eddie gives him a wicked grin. “Oh, I bet you do.”
“Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.” Buck kisses him again, and again, his fingers slowly slipping out of Eddie’s ass so he can wrap his dominant hand around his own cock. “Can’t believe I made you come before I could get you on my cock, fuck.”
“Is that what you need?” Beneath him, Buck goes still. Eddie strokes a hand down his cheek with a knowing smile. “You need to come inside me, sweetheart?”
Buck’s face crumples beneath his touch. “Yes."
With gentle hands, Eddie switches their positions, sprawling against the sheets and guiding Buck on top of him. “Then do it.”
“Wha– Eddie, you just came, you’ll be too sensitive.”
“I don’t care,” Eddie insists. He strokes his fingers delicately over Buck’s birthmark. “Take what you need, Buck. I wanna give it to you.”
“I–” Buck sighs, turning his head to press a kiss to the pulse point in Eddie’s wrist. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He cradles Buck’s face in his hands as he lines up with his entrance. “I’m sure, come on, baby–”
And when the fat head of Buck’s cock slips past the first ring of muscle, Eddie muffles his strangled moan with a kiss, swallowing the sound into his mouth.
Buck was right. He is too sensitive, the stretch of his cock bullying its way inside him flaring with pleasure-pain that has Eddie fighting back a wince. It’s strange, and it aches, but God, he fucking loves it. He loves knowing that Buck needs to be inside him so badly, loves getting to see him all whiny and desperate as he chases his peak, taking it all in without the haze of his own pleasure getting in the way.
“Eddie,” he groans, head hanging low, curls tickling at Eddie’s collarbone. “I can’t– I’m not gonna last.”
“I know,” Eddie says. He hooks his ankles around Buck’s hips, guiding him into a hard, steady rhythm. “You don’t have to. This is all for you, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Buck breathes, eyes boring into Eddie’s, hand clutching desperately at his hip. “For me. Mine.”
Something flares in Eddie’s belly at that, hot and insistent. Buck has a possessive streak a mile wide, and if Eddie could get it up again, he’d be rock hard in seconds.
“You want me to be yours?” Eddie tugs him closer, resting their foreheads together, panting against his lips. “Then show me. Come for me, Buck. Fill me up. Need to feel you, need- fuck, please.”
One, two, three thrusts, and then Buck is spilling inside him with a sharp cry. The hot rush of cum soothes the worst of the oversensitive ache until it’s nothing but pleasure, nothing but the intoxicating feeling of Buck claiming him from the inside out, marking him in a way no one else has or ever will again. Eddie knows that now– this is real. This is forever.
The come down is slow, Buck panting in the space between them like his lungs have forgotten how to breathe. Eventually, he guides his softened cock out of Eddie’s ass and flops into a boneless heap at his side, both of them staring breathlessly up at the ceiling.
“…We could’ve been doing that for weeks,” Eddie deadpans.
Buck groans, embarrassed, dragging his still shaking hand down the side of his face. “I know. What the hell was I thinking?”
Eddie snorts. “I ask myself that question every day.”
“Hey!” Buck smacks half-heartedly at his chest. “You love me, you’re not allowed to be mean to me anymore.”
“Was that included in the relationship agreement?” Eddie tilts his head to the side, meeting Buck’s eyes with a teasing grin. “Not that we have one of those, since you still haven’t asked me to be your boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry, I was a little busy making you come your brains out.” Buck props himself up on his elbow, hovering over Eddie. “So maybe you should ask me to be your boyfriend.”
“Wow, glad to know our relationship is so transactional,” he snarks, gripping Buck’s chin between his fingers. “Guess if you can make me come twice next time, I’ll have to get down on one knee.”
Buck stiffens above him. Eddie's eyes go comically wide, his mind scrambling for anything he could possibly say to make that sound even a little less insane. Fuck, oh God, he is such an idio–
“Is that a challenge?”
Buck’s eyes lock onto his, warm and wet and completely fucking serious. Eddie’s panic falters, then fades away completely.
“Talk to me about it in the morning,” Eddie laughs, a bit shaky. “Or better yet, after you get something to clean us up with. That’s real marriage material right there.”
“Well, then,” Buck croons, the air between them simmering with possibility, “One wet rag coming right up.”
Buck drags himself out of bed and shuffles off towards the bathroom, and Eddie sinks into the pillows, grinning up at the ceiling. The bed is still warm in his absence, an afterimage imprinted on the sheets that Eddie wants to cling to– until he remembers that he doesn’t have to.
Buck is coming back. And if Eddie has any say in it, he is never letting him go.