Work Text:
In recent years, Christmas has become Buck’s favorite time of year. When he was a kid, Christmas was never the magical, perfect holiday that you see in the movies. He’d normally get a present from his parents, often in the form of a check or some other non personal gift, and then spend the rest of the day either alone or with Maddie.
He’d never understood back then why his parents always seemed to hate Christmas so much, why they’d avoided their children even more than usual on the days leading up to the holiday. Of course, with the revelation of Daniel, a lot of things about his childhood had made a whole lot more sense. A holiday that was supposed to be about spending time with your loved ones must have been a constant reminder to his parents of what they had lost. Not that their grief excused neglecting their children, but he was trying his best to be understanding.
Regardless of the lackluster holiday experience of his childhood, the past few years of spending Christmas with his new family had reignited his love for the holiday season. He knows he always has somewhere to go for Christmas dinner, people to give presents to, holiday celebrations to attend. He finally feels like he has what he’s been chasing for his entire life—unconditional love, people who he knows he can count on no matter what. This family that he’s found, that he’s built for himself, is the best part of his life.
Preparations for Christmas were already in full swing at the 118, with decorations put up in every available space (while obeying fire codes, of course—even the probies fear the wrath of Fire Marshall Buck). They’d had the Christmas tree and garland up for weeks now, and had even managed to sneak a wreath onto the front of the ladder truck (Bobby had categorically vetoed the idea of decorating the ladder with Christmas lights), but there had been several notable additions to their decorations in the past few days—namely, the mistletoe that’s now strung up above every single doorway in the station.
Thus far, this hadn’t caused any issues, and had in fact been a fantastic source of entertainment. Eddie and Hen had managed to walk through a doorway at the same time the other day and had both just laughed it off, Eddie planting a friendly kiss on her cheek and Hen returning the favor. Chimney had been in a similar position later that day with Bobby, and, in true Chimney fashion, had delivered an Oscar-worthy love confession that had the entire firehouse crying tears of laughter. Bobby had simply rolled his eyes and stated that he was flattered but was unfortunately a happily married man. Chimney responded with tearful devastation and an overly dramatic cheek kiss that Bobby accepted with little complaint.
The mistletoe had even worked as a bit of a matchmaker for several members of the 118. Just this morning, Buck had walked in on two of the C shift firefighters passionately kissing in a mistletoe-decorated doorway, and later observed them walking out of the station hand-in-hand, smiles on both of their faces. Most surprisingly, however, was just a few hours ago, when Albert had come to visit Chim and had managed to walk through a doorway at the same time as Ravi. They’d both blushed ferociously, sputtering excuse attempts, before finally giving in and kissing at the urge of the 118. Despite their initial protests, they ended up getting a bit carried away, and only broke apart at Chimney’s loud wolf-whistle. Buck had noticed them exchanging phone numbers not 5 minutes later, so they clearly hadn’t let Chimney get to them too much.
Buck knows it’s only a matter of time before he ends up in the same position, though he has been steadfastly avoiding walking through any doorways when anyone else was near, preferring to watch others be victim to the mistletoe rather than experience it himself. As much as he loves his family, he knows none of them would pass up an opportunity to embarrass him, and he’s hesitant to give them any more material for them to make fun of. It’s still rare to go more than a few weeks without some quip about Buck 1.0’s exploits or Buck’s fondness for the clipboard, and though the loving jabs secretly pleased him, he refuses to ever admit that out loud.
He’s been bracing himself all week for the inevitable failure of his efforts, and has been weighing the various outcomes in his mind. Hen would be fine, they’ve never shied away from affection with each other, and he hadn’t hesitated from giving her a kiss on the cheek last Christmas while he had that mistletoe. Bobby might be a little more awkward, but still ultimately fine. Chimney would likely either do a repeat of his dramatic love confession or make some quip about how he wasn’t the Buckley he normally kissed, which would be entertaining if nothing else. Ravi might melt on the spot, as Buck suspects he might have a bit of a crush on Buck—which had (understandably) diminished somewhat when Buck had kind of chased him around the firehouse with a chainsaw—but was still evident in the number of times he’s caught Ravi’s eyes on him on shifts. And Eddie—
He’s startled out of his thought process by his phone buzzing with a notification. He pulls it out of his pocket and clicks on the message, greeted with the sight of what is quite possibly the cutest picture he’s ever seen in his life—his adorable little niece in a tiny elf costume with a Santa hat perched on her head, a toothless grin on her face, the softly smiling face of his sister just visible at the top of the picture. It’s one of the first times he’s seen Maddie smile since she’s been back, and the sight combined with his beloved niece all dressed up for the holiday season fills him up with joy.
He’s so focused on the picture that he’s not paying attention to where he’s going, and jolts back to attention when he slams into a solid body, firm hands steadying him so he doesn’t tumble over. “You okay, man?” Eddie asks. “You seem a little distracted.” His voice is tinged with concern, his hand still resting on Buck’s arm.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine, Maddie just sent me this picture and I got a little distracted.” He turns the phone around to show Eddie, whose face immediately breaks into a smile at the sight. Eddie admires the photo for a second longer before directing that smile at Buck. The sight sends warmth down Buck’s spine, an odd sensation fluttering in his stomach, and he suddenly feels a bit unsteady for some reason. He leans back against the doorframe to regain his balance and—
Doorframe. Fuck. A quick glance up confirms his suspicions. Shit. A sprig of mistletoe hangs directly over his and Eddie’s heads. Eddie follows his eyes upwards and comes to the same realization a split second later. His eyes snap back to Buck’s, and Buck is instantly hyper aware of how close Eddie is. Barely six inches between them, the warmth of Eddie’s hand still on his arm, his deep brown eyes close enough that Buck can see the flecks of green in them, and Buck feels a sudden urge to move closer, to bridge that gap. He takes a half step forward, Eddie drawing in a sharp breath at the closeness, the grip on his arm tightening, and Buck feels his heart skip a beat in his chest, and they’re almost—
The sound of the bell pierces the air, and Buck jumps so hard he smacks into the doorframe. Eddie wrenches his hand back like he’s been burned, hurriedly turning away from Buck and practically sprinting down the stairs. Buck is stunned for a moment, then shakes his head slightly to clear the fog from his mind before following Eddie down the stairs, climbing into the truck and taking his usual spot. He tries to catch Eddie’s eye, hoping to find some clarity on what the hell just happened, but Eddie studiously ignores his attempt, fixing his gaze on some point outside the window.
Eddie practically gives him the silent treatment on the scene, barely saying two words to him the entire time. It’s a simple medical call, so they’re not doing much more than standing around and handing Hen and Chim things when they ask for them, but the absence of their usual banter is notable enough that even Bobby raises an eyebrow in question.
Buck tries his best not to spiral, but he can’t help but worry about what he did that upset Eddie. Did he push too far? Is Eddie uncomfortable about what happened—or, almost happened—under the mistletoe? Buck hadn’t even really been thinking about what he’d been doing, following nothing but his instincts and that sudden desire to get closer, closer, closer—
What if Eddie hates him now? What if that’s why he can’t bear to look at him or speak to him anymore, if it’s because the mere sight of him is so awful that Eddie can’t stand it? Buck tries his best to take deep breaths and calm himself down.
The rest of the shift passes in a blur, a couple calls here and there, all minor issues except for one pileup that keeps them busy for a few hours, but surprisingly results in only a few superficial injuries. At the end of the shift, Eddie changes and packs up his stuff in record time, already out of the locker room and halfway to the parking lot by the time Buck has put up his turnout gear.
Buck considers for a moment going after him, but rejects the idea almost immediately. Eddie clearly doesn’t want to talk to him, and he’d probably only make things worse anyways. He instead slumps to the locker room, changing and gathering his things in an almost daze, running over the events of the day in his mind to try to figure out what he could have done differently.
He startles at the sudden sound of his locker door slamming shut, whipping his head around to see Hen standing next to him, eyebrows raised in her typical concerned/judging face. “Buckaroo? You still with us?” she says in a way that indicates this is not the first time she’s tried to get his attention.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Hen, I’m just—tired,” he says unconvincingly, the excuse sounding feeble even to his ears.
“Mhm, sure you are,” she responds. “So I guess Eddie was just tired too?” He can see on her face that she knows something happened between them, even if she doesn’t know exactly what it is, and he decides it’s better to just bite the bullet now rather than try to avoid it any longer.
Buck sighs, dropping down onto the bench and putting his face in his hands. “Eddie and I—we—uh—we got caught under the mistletoe earlier.” His words come out as a mumble, and he peeks through his fingers to see Hen’s reaction. She doesn’t look the least bit surprised, and he wonders for a moment if she’d seen them earlier. There aren’t exactly that many out of the way places in the firehouse.
“And?” she prompts. He really thought there’d be more of a reaction, but at this point he should probably be used to Hen knowing everything before anyone else does.
“And—nothing, I guess,” he says. “I mean, for a second I thought—we sort of, almost—but then the bell rang, and he flipped out, and then refused to talk to me for the rest of the day.” He keeps replaying the moment in his mind, how Eddie had physically flinched away from him, like being that close to Buck was painful.
Hen nods understandingly. “So, does this mean you’ve finally admitted to yourself that you’re head over heels for him, or are we still not there yet?” Her words, said so casually and matter-of-fact, shock him straight to his core, and he snaps his eyes up to her to see if this is some joke, only to find zero humor in her expression.
He searches for words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he attempts to gather his thoughts. In the end, all that comes out is an indignant “ What? ”
Hen raises her eyebrows again. “I’ll take that as a no.” Buck sputters in indignation, still floundering in the wake of her words. She rolls her eyes at his attempts at speech. “Buck, I love you to death, but sometimes you can be pretty damn stupid.”
“I don’t—I’m not—with Eddie—” he manages to get out, Hen cutting him off with a wave of her hand.
“Buck, you have been completely gone on that boy since the second you laid eyes on him, and everyone but the two of you can see it.” Hen says it so simply, but Buck reels from her words.
He can’t help but flash back to the moment in question, when he first spotted Eddie through the glass walls of the locker room—shirtless, his hair artfully tousled, biceps bulging as he pulled a t-shirt over his head—and Buck had felt something in the pit of his stomach, something he’d dismissed as mere jealousy at the time, but knows now was much more than that. He’d been such a dick to Eddie at first, because yeah, maybe he had felt a bit threatened by him, but maybe there had been some deep, dark part of him that had wanted to push Eddie until he snapped just to see how he’d react, if he’d put his hands on Buck and—okay, maybe Hen has a point.
“Okay, sure, maybe I thought he was hot at first, but so did everyone else ,” Buck says defensively. “You don’t even like guys and you thought he was hot.” He knows as the words are coming out of his mouth that it’s a weak argument, but he refuses to consider the alternative, the realization threatening to dawn on him too huge and life-changing to possibly deal with.
Hen just gives him a look, and he feels his argument crumble under the weight of that look. “Yeah, but no one else has spent the past three years being his best friend. No one else is the legal guardian of his kid, for God’s sake,” she says pointedly.
Her words trigger a series of snapshots in his mind. That Christmas elf assuming Christopher was Buck and Eddie’s son and Buck not even trying to correct her. Eddie putting his hand on Buck’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye, and telling him that he trusted him more than anyone else in the world with his son. Buck being all cocky and challenging that night in the kitchen, moving closer with his hands on his belt, and just for a second thinking he saw something more in Eddie’s face. That well collapsing and Buck being unable to do anything but scream Eddie’s name and try to dig him out with his bare hands. Eddie supporting him through everything with his parents, holding that punching bag while Buck let out all of his anger, understanding him entirely when it felt like no one else did. Eddie coming home from his date with Ana while Buck was watching Chris and feeling for a moment that this, them, felt somehow right. Standing in the middle of that street and feeling Eddie’s blood spray on his face, the moment their eyes locked and Buck felt frozen, the sheer terror gripping him the entire ambulance ride to the hospital. Eddie looking him right in the eye and telling him about the will, calling him by his name and telling him he wasn’t expendable. The look on Eddie’s face when Ravi had assumed Ana was Eddie’s wife, and Eddie telling him that he’d had a panic attack over the thought of a family with Ana. Eddie looking at Buck on the balcony and seeing right to the heart of the problem, giving him exactly what he needed even if he didn’t know what that was. Those prisoners threatening to hurt Chris and Buck feeling a surge of protectiveness and white-hot anger at the mere suggestion, hearing that gunshot and immediately feeling like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.
And then today, when he’d been faced with the possibility of kissing Eddie, and all he’d wanted to do was move closer. All of that plus Hen’s words adds up to one fairly obvious conclusion.
Well. Shit.
His realization must be written all over his face, because Hen’s expression softens somewhat, and she sits down on the bench next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You okay, Buck?” she asks gently.
He’s at a loss for words for a moment, still reeling from the realization. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Buck says helplessly. Hen squeezes his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.
“Buck, I swear to you, that man is just as gone on you as you are on him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she says, like there’s not even a question about it.
Buck still can’t quite wrap his head around it, the idea that Eddie could somehow feel the same way. “How does he look at me?”
Hen fixes her gaze on him. “The same way I look at Karen, or Bobby looks at Athena, or Chim looks at Maddie. The same way you look at him. Like you’re his whole world.” Her tone is so soft, and without even a hint of doubt. Buck feels tears prick his eyes, and he blinks rapidly to try to stop himself from crying.
“Chris is his whole world,” he defends weakly, a tear rolling down his face.
Hen just cocks her head slightly. “And who’s the one he trusts Chris with the most?” Buck can’t help but laugh, tears rolling down his cheeks—not out of sadness, just out of sheer, overwhelming emotion. “Eddie handed you his heart on a silver platter when he changed his will, and your dumb ass just couldn’t see it.” Her words are teasing, but he knows every word she says is true.
“I have to tell him, don’t I?” he asks, already knowing the answer. Hen just nods, a soft smile on her face.
“Go get your man, Buckley,” she says encouragingly, clapping a hand on his shoulder and turning to leave.
“Hey, Hen?” She turns around at his words, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, knowing that without her, his head would be an even bigger mess right now than it already is. She smiles at him, then walks out of the room, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and the overwhelming weight of words unsaid.
He manages to gather up the rest of his stuff and make his way to his Jeep without anyone else interrogating him, which is admittedly a relief—he’s not sure he can handle a speech from Bobby or Chim right now. Once he’s in his car, he’s faced with the choice of going home or going straight to Eddie’s. He resolves to go home and shower and attempt to collect himself before making any life-altering confessions. If he manages to get enough courage to make said life-altering confession without losing his nerve.
One step at a time, Buckley. One step at a time.
After showering and changing, he unfortunately doesn’t feel any more ready to talk to Eddie. Maybe he should wait, sleep on it and go talk to him tomorrow—no. If he doesn’t do this now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to. So, he grabs his keys and makes his way back to his car, the adrenaline coursing through his veins overpowering his exhaustion from a 24 hour shift.
The drive to the Diaz house is so familiar he’s practically on autopilot the entire way over, so he tries his best to plan out what he’s going to say. Every single thing he comes up with sounds unbearably stupid and cliché, and he fears that when he opens his mouth he’s going to sound like a goddamn Hallmark Christmas movie. Not that there’s anything wrong with Hallmark movies, but Eddie deserves better than that. So, he makes the (probably horrible) decision to simply wing it and hope for the best.
He pulls into Eddie’s driveway, gets out of his car, walks up to the door, and is immediately frozen with panic again. What if this was a mistake? What if he’s wrong and Eddie doesn’t feel the same and he hates him forever for ruining their friendship? And then he hears Hen’s words in his head: Like you’re his whole world.
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and knocks on the door. He sends a silent prayer up to the sky that Eddie isn’t asleep yet, that he didn’t put all this effort into psyching himself up only to be forced to come back another night.
He’s seconds away from giving up when the door swings open to reveal Eddie, looking unfairly gorgeous in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, his expression unreadable. “Buck? What are you doing here?” His tone betrays a hint of confusion. So, he genuinely is surprised that Buck came by. Maybe he hoped Buck would forget about the whole thing and never talk about it again. Oh God, this was a mistake.
He realizes after a long moment that he’s just been standing on Eddie’s doorstep staring blankly at him for God knows how long. What does he even say? He really should have thought this through more. “Uh—can I come in?” he manages to get out. Eddie looks at him for a second before nodding, opening the door wider and stepping aside to let Buck in.
Now he’s standing in Eddie’s living room, and Eddie’s standing three feet away from him, arms crossed, looking almost apprehensive at his presence. “Is this about earlier?” Eddie says hesitantly. “Cause it’s—it’s fine, we don’t need to talk about it.” Eddie refuses to meet his eyes while he’s speaking, and Buck feels every inch of the distance between them.
“Please don’t do that, Eddie,” Buck says softly. “Please don’t shut me out again.” Eddie’s gaze snaps to him, and Buck sees the conflict in his eyes.
“I’m not shutting you out, I just—I can’t talk about this. I can’t do this if you don’t—” he breaks off, turning away from Buck as if to hide his face. If I don’t what? he wants to ask, terrified of the answer.
“You don’t have to talk. Just—just listen,” he says shakily, taking a step closer to Eddie. “Today, standing under that mistletoe with you—I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t know what I was thinking. All I knew was that all I wanted was for you to keep looking at me that way, and all I needed was to be closer to you.” Eddie turns around at that, his eyes hopeful and his face flushed slightly. Buck takes another step closer. “And I had a very enlightening conversation with Hen today, where she helpfully informed me that I was an idiot—and she was right.” Eddie laughs softly at that, taking a half step towards Buck. There’s not even a foot of space between them now. “She was right, because I have been an idiot. I’ve been an idiot for the past three years, because everything I’ve ever wanted has been right in front of me this entire time and I was too blind to see it.” He moves in even closer, and Eddie’s chest is almost brushing his. He can barely breathe, his heart pounding so loud he can hear it. “Eddie, you’re—you’re my best friend, and I didn’t realize until today that you’re a hell of a lot more than just that. I’ve never—I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you, and I just—”
“Buck,” Eddie says softly, cutting him off, and he’s so close Buck can feel his breath against his face. “Shut up.”
Buck just laughs. He’s still frozen, so close to Eddie but unable to bridge the gap. He stares into Eddie’s eyes and thinks, fleetingly, that he could live in this moment forever.
Eddie reaches a hand up, just like he had earlier today, except this time he doesn’t stop. Then there’s the warmth of Eddie’s palm on his cheek, fingers softly stroking his cheekbone and down to his jawline, tilting his head down just slightly.
“You owe me a kiss, Buckley,” Eddie says, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper, full of heat and promise and everything Buck has ever needed.
“Whatever you say, Diaz,” he says back, the words barely a breath against Eddie’s lips, before leaning in, bridging that gap, and then finally, they’re kissing, and Buck feels his entire world shift just an inch to the left and fall perfectly into place. Eddie’s lips are so soft against his, the rasp of stubble against his jaw a perfect contrast, and Buck has never understood what people meant about kisses taking their breath away until this moment.
He melts into the kiss, his hands sliding around Eddie to pull him even closer, and then they’re pressed all the way against each other, and Eddie’s fisting his hands in Buck’s hair to deepen the kiss, and Buck’s mouth is opening against his, and this definitely has the possibility of getting carried away if he doesn’t stop soon.
Eddie’s the one to break away after an indeterminate amount of time spent kissing, breathing slightly heavily and his face flushed. Buck’s in a similar state, and he’s certain his hair is a mess from Eddie’s hands being in it.
In that moment, he can say with one hundred percent confidence that Eddie is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. “Your eyes have a bit of green in them,” he whispers, because apparently that’s the only thing he can think to say.
Eddie grins in response. “I hadn’t noticed.” He moves his hand just slightly to rest on Buck’s cheek, softly stroking his birthmark with his thumb. The gesture is so heartbreakingly sweet Buck thinks he might cry. He didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.
This is what it’s supposed to feel like.
“I love you,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can even stop to consider them. He panics for a brief moment, but then Eddie’s face splits into the widest smile he’s ever seen, and any hint of regret vanishes immediately. “I mean, I’m in love with you. Very not platonically. Head over heels, hopelessly in love with you.”
He’s definitely babbling, but apparently Eddie finds it endearing, as he cuts Buck off with another kiss, long and sweet and full of promise, stealing his breath and heart away in one fell swoop. Eddie breaks away after a long moment, with the softest goddamn look Buck has ever seen on his face. “I love you too. Also very not platonically,” Eddie says softly, a hint of teasing in his tone.
Buck feels so unbelievably, overwhelmingly, deliriously happy that he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “Well that’s good, or else this was about to get pretty awkward.”
Eddie just looks up at him, his expression so full of love that Buck can barely breathe. Like you’re his whole world.
Screw Hallmark movies. This is what perfect feels like. He leans in to kiss Eddie again, and in that instant, he knows, more fully than he ever has in his life, that he’s home.