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Something was wrong with Buck.
Eddie and Chris had been permanently back in LA for about two months when it started, or, well, when Eddie noticed. But Eddie knows Buck better than he knows himself, and he liked to think Buck couldn’t have hidden this for long, whatever it is.
The thing that Eddie thought of as the first sign was when Buck moved out.
It wasn’t that he thought it was exactly sustainable that they were two grown men platonically sharing a bed, but it was so fast. It was more of Eddie’s MO than Buck’s, if he was being honest with himself — which he’s trying to be recently.
Buck started acting weird on a Tuesday and by Thursday he had a new lease. It was kind of a shit hole but Buck wouldn’t hear anything against it.
“You and Chris need your house back,” he’d said. And when Eddie asked him when the hell anyone asked him to move out, Buck just shrugged.
Now, Buck was the most self-sacrificing person he knew, but running away wasn’t what he did. If anything, he ran towards the danger.
So. That was the first sign.
The first night without Buck, Eddie was laying in their — his — bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep without his best friend beside him even after sleeping solo for years, trying to piece it together.
Had Chris said something? No, Buck would have come to him first. He knows Chris comes first. He gave up his loft for Chris, he gave up his best friend to Texas and Uber driving and his parents because Eddie thought it was what Chris needed. No, it wasn’t about Chris.
Had Eddie said something to make Buck feel unwelcome? He scoured the last week, then two weeks, then two months, every conversation replaying over and over in his head, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything.
He would just have to wait, get more information. He’d figure it out. He knew Buck.
They fell into a pattern again, and it was so close to what it was before that Eddie almost lets himself believe he was mistaken. They laughed and joked and, despite moving out, Buck was over at the house half their nights off anyways. Eddie was thriving as a paramedic alongside Hen, and Buck and Ravi are a well-oiled partnership. Eddie was almost jealous until he reminded himself that Buck’s eyes find his every time he enters a room. He has nothing to be jealous of.
(And yes, Eddie is aware that jealousy over his best friend getting along with their teammate is not exactly healthy, but Buck liked it. And he liked that Buck liked it. So it kinda worked for them. They’re a bit possessive of each other and given everything they’ve been through it’s probably normal to be protective. Possessive. Whatever.
That’s all.)
Anyways, it was all fine and Eddie had almost convinced himself otherwise when he caught Buck throwing up in the bathroom.
The sound is unmistakable and Eddie stood frozen in the doorway, hoping he wasn’t heard. He tried to back out but then the toilet was flushing and the stall door was opening and Buck was wiping his mouth on his hand and —.
He saw Eddie. His hand dropped to his side. There was blood on it.
“Eddie, I can explain.”
“You’re sick.” It’s not a question.
“Yes,” Buck sighed, crossing in front of Eddie to the sink. He rinsed out his mouth and washed his hands before he turned back to Eddie, leaning against the sink lip.
“How bad?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Buck. Please.” He gestured to the where the blood had been.
“I’m working on it.”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment. That’s an odd answer, but he let it stand for the moment. “With a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll tell me if it gets worse? If you need anything?”
“Eddie, I’m fine.”
“Buck, you just threw up blood!” He was trying so hard to stay calm, but his voice caught on the last word and he knew if he let go of the hold he has on his uniform pants that his hands would be shaking.
“I will be fine,” Buck amended. “I promise.”
“And you’ll tell me?” Eddie asked again.
“I’ll tell you,” Buck agreed.
It had to be enough.
“You should move back in with me and Chris,” Eddie said later that evening, trying to be nonchalant.
But Buck shook his head, too fast. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Buck, you shouldn’t be living alone while you’re sick. At least tell me —.”
“No,” Buck cut him off. He sighed. “Drop it, Eds.”
His hands were itching to grab hold of Buck and hold him close enough that whatever is hurting him stops. He wanted to take his face in his hands and promise him everything if he just got better. He wanted to fix this, but Buck didn’t want him to fix it.
Eddie dropped it.
It was another month before Eddie finally put it together. A month of Buck being more and more distant. A month of missed plans and weak excuses. A month of under-eye bags and lost weight and growing fatigue and, and, and.
Eddie couldn’t believe it took him this long, actually.
Buck had Hanahaki Disease.
He didn’t know how he’d missed it. With all the baking and pining and wanting to call that bastard — even though he clearly hadn’t cherished Buck the way he deserved. But Eddie had thought it was over, Buck had moved on, hadn’t he? Only he hadn’t really. He’d put all his energy into missing Eddie and then over grieving Bobby and when he had time to himself again it probably all came crashing back down.
His best friend was heartbroken and it was literally killing him. Tommy fucking Kinard was killing his best friend.
His first instinct — to go hunt the asshole down and make him apologize (at the very least) — was tempting, but it wouldn’t actually help Buck. He had no idea what would, though, which was his current problem.
After another miserable shift watching Buck pretend to be fine, he decided he’d had enough and jumped into Buck’s passenger seat, leaving his own car behind without a thought. They could come back for it. Or Buck could just stay at the house until their next shift. That was probably easier. Buck shouldn’t be alone right now anyways.
Buck just sighed and started the engine, driving to the house on autopilot as though he had never moved out.
Eddie got a couple of beers and sat on the couch next to where Buck had flopped down, evidently resigned to his fate. He took the beer without a word and downed a significant portion before he set it down on the coffee table.
“You figured it out,” Buck said to the air, not meeting Eddie’s eye.
“I think so,” Eddie confirmed, studying Buck’s profile. “I’d like it if you told me, though.”
Buck closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s Hanahaki. I have Hanahaki disease. And it’s not getting better.”
Eddie nodded. Buck dropped his gaze to his own lap. “Do you want me to go beat him up? Because I will. Buck I’ll do anything to help, just name it.”
This, finally, got Buck to look at him.
Eddie leaned towards him. “Kinard didn’t know how good he had it, having you love him. He didn’t deserve you. I know you love him, Buck, I can see it, but he isn’t worth it. He just isn’t. You’ve got to let him go.”
Buck stared at him another moment, then stood abruptly, grabbing his keys off the table and bolting for the door. “I have to go.”
“Buck, wait!” Eddie jumped up and grabbed his wrist, pulling Buck around to face him. His eyes were wet with tears.
“Eddie, let me go.”
“Buck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please stay.”
Buck relaxed a fraction and Eddie took it as a sign to continue. “He broke your heart so I kinda have to hate him on principle, as your best friend. I don’t get it, but I want to support you. Tell me how?”
“We hooked up,” Buck said. “About a month before… before.”
Before Bobby. Eddie nodded, encouraging Buck to continue.
“It was a coincidence. We ran into each other at a bar and suddenly it was like old times. The next thing I know, we’re back here and we’re kissing and… you know.”
A deep breath. “Then the next morning he told me he wanted me back.”
Eddie gasped, squeezing Buck’s wrist instinctively. “But, Buck that’s great, if he wants you back then why —?”
“I told him no.”
“No?”
“No. I didn’t want him back. Not then and not ever.”
“But…” Eddie blinked, trying to make sense of it all.
“I don’t love Tommy. I never did. It was a rush being with him, but it wasn’t love. It couldn’t be.”
Eddie still couldn’t piece it all together. Buck had Hanahaki. It wasn’t about Tommy.
Buck had met and fallen in love with someone else and hadn’t told him.
Buck loved someone else who didn’t love him back. That jealousy was back again, raging to life at the idea of an unknown stranger not loving Evan Buckley.
“Whoever it is, they’re not worth dying over,” Eddie whispered, trying to take Buck’s hand but he tore it out of his hand and turned again towards the door.
Shit, he’d fucked up again. He had to stop insulting this person! Whoever they were, Buck loved them, and that had to be good enough for Eddie.
“Buck!” he called after him, stepping onto the stoop in time to see Buck bent over on the front walk, choking out flower petals in front of his son. Chris, just arrived home from school, stood staring at Buck in shock, then to his dad.
“Chris, go inside please.”
In the split second his attention was elsewhere, Buck jumped into his car and sped off. Eddie cursed his stupid impulse to leave his car at the station as he looked back to Chris, who had made it to where Buck had stood only a moment ago.
“Dad, look.”
Eddie stepped off the stoop and looked. It was a pile of flowers. Blue flowers.
“Bluebells,” he whispered.
“Well?” Chris asked. “What are you waiting for?”
“What?”
“Bluebells, Dad!” Chris rolled his eyes. “Why aren’t you going after him already?”
“What?” he said again. Sometimes Eddie didn’t know how his kid was so much smarter than him.
“Oh my God,” Chris whined. “They’re bluebells. For Texas. For you.”
“Oh,” Eddie said.
“Go after him!” Chris shouted.
Eddie closed his eyes. “My car is at the station.”
Chris sighed. He was such a teenager these days. (Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.) “I’ll call you an Uber.”
Thirty minutes later, Eddie was standing outside Buck’s apartment door. He’d spent the whole ride deep in thought, putting together the last few months of Buck’s behavior, combining it with his own, with his own feelings.
Helplessness as he watched Buck in pain.
Anger at someone else for hurting Buck.
Fear of losing his best friend.
Jealousy at the idea of Buck in love.
Wanting to fix it, wanting Buck to be loved back. Wanting Buck to be loved how he deserved. Determined to love Buck how he deserved. Wanting to touch him. Wanting to hold him. Wanting...
Ultimately, only one conclusion was possible. Buck loved him, and he loved Buck. And when he thought about showing that love in more physical ways? Let’s just say the idea appealed to him more than he’d ever imagined and he had to reign in those thoughts before he had a very inappropriate boner in the back of this Uber.
Not straight then. It made a lot of sense in hindsight, actually. Well, he’d deal with that later.
Now, he was in front of Buck’s apartment door, hand raised to knock but frozen in space. He wondered if he should have brought flowers. No, that was probably insensitive given the situation. Chocolates? He had no idea, he just felt extremely under-prepared for what awaited him on the other side of this door.
Before he could force his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing one Evan Buckley, nose red and eyes wet, and still the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen.
“Buck.” Again his hands itched to grab him, hold him, keep him safe from all that would harm him. Kiss him. Love him. God, how had he been so stupid?
“How did you get here?”
“Chris called me an Uber.”
Buck scoffed.
“Can I come in?”
Buck stepped back and let him pass, closing the door behind him and planting himself in the entryway.
“Just say it, Eddie.”
“I love you.”
It was the truth, but Buck’s face closed off.
“Don’t.”
“Buck, I —.”
“Eddie,” Buck cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you dare fucking pity me. Don’t you dare come over here and tell me you love me as a friend, that you want to help but you're straight and you don’t like me like that. I can’t take it.”
"Well it’s a good thing that’s not what I came over here for, then, isn’t it?”
Buck just glared at him.
“Look, I may have just speedrun a gay crisis in an Uber, but I need you to believe me when I say that nothing else has ever made more sense in my entire life than how I feel about you.”
Buck’s glare faltered, eyebrows rising a bit. Eddie continued.
“You know I’m not good with expressing my emotions.”
Buck snorted a laugh and Eddie smiled. Progress.
“With you, I’ve never had to be. You know me. I know you. And every time I picture the rest of my life, I picture you in it. I picture you in our house, where you belong. You, in our bed. God, Buck, I can hardly sleep without you next to me anymore, do you know that?”
A shake of his head.
“I never considered this, us, not really. I couldn’t let myself. Wrote everything off as just being best friends. But the moment I let myself think about it? Buck, our whole lives rolled out in front of me.”
Buck’s arms dropped to his sides and he nodded for Eddie to continue.
“I want everything with you.”
“Everything?” Buck asked, his voice small, and Eddie just had to touch him. He gave into his earlier impulse and framed Buck’s face with his hands. Buck’s eyes were wide as they stared at each other, the space between them hot with their breath and anticipation.
“Everything you’ll give me and more.”
Buck nodded and that was all Eddie needed. He pulled Buck’s face down to his and kissed him fiercely, pouring into it all the words he couldn’t yet speak. He would find a way to for Buck. Buck, who deserved everything. Buck, his best friend, his favorite person, the first thing he thought of when he woke up, the last thing he thought of before sleep, the first check he did on a call, the first glance he exchanged at a joke.
Buck, the goddamn love of his life.
They kissed until they couldn’t breath, panting into each other’s mouths, noses nuzzling.
“I love you,” Buck said at last. “I think I have for a really long time.”
“I love you, too,” Eddie said. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Buck shook his head, his hands squeezing Eddie’s hips. “We’re here now.”
Eddie kissed him again.
Eventually, they made it to the couch, where they made out like teenagers for minutes or hours or days (Eddie couldn’t tell), Eddie climbing into Buck’s lap when he couldn’t get close enough side by side.
They were interrupted by Eddie’s phone ringing.
“That’s Chris’s ringtone,” Eddie murmured apologetically.
“I know,” Buck said with a smile, moving so Eddie could get his phone out.
“Hey Chris,” Eddie answered. “You’re on speaker.”
“You fix it?”
“He did,” Buck confirmed, grinning at Eddie like the cat that ate the canary.
“Good. Are you moving back in then?” Chris continued, like this was a normal course of conversation.
Buck looked at Eddie, eyes wide, but Eddie just grinned.
“You beat me to asking,” he told Chris.
“Really?” Buck asked.
Eddie kissed him softly. “Really.”
“Okay.” Buck agreed with a shy smile. "Guess it's a good thing this is month-to-month."
“Good,” Chris said. “You never should have moved out. If you’re not back in an hour I’m ordering pizza without you.”
The line went dead and both men burst out laughing.
“Well, it seems we have a pizza date with our kid,” Eddie said fondly. He stood, offering a hand to Buck, who took it and rose after him. They let the momentum carry them back together and Eddie’s lips found Buck’s again, losing himself in the kiss as easily as breathing. How had he missed this for all these years?
“If we keep this up we’ll never make it in time for pizza,” Buck murmured.
Eddie sighed and pulled back, reminding himself they had a lifetime for this, no need to rush. “Pizza awaits.”
He laced his fingers through Buck’s and they made their way back down to Buck’s car.
“Bluebells, huh?”
“Literally shut up,” Buck grumbled, but squeezed Eddie’s hand tighter.