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Eddie stops and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, tucked into the shadow of 132’s firetruck, out of the bustle of activity still swarming around the warehouse. The fire is out, mostly, only a small crew working to contain a stubborn section on the southeast corner of the second floor. It’d been a five-alarm, one of the worst he’s seen in a while, with four different houses called to help put it out.
He’s exhausted, grimy with soot and sweat, and missing Buck. In all the chaos and activity, they’d gotten separated, though he occasionally heard Buck’s familiar warm voice over the radio. He knows with something this big, they may need to work in different areas, but he always feels off-kilter without Buck by his side. Others would call them codependent probably, but Eddie thinks it’s good sense to stick close to a partner he can rely on, someone that anticipates whatever he needs.
It has nothing to do with Buck’s bright smile or that Eddie only truly feels safe, settled, with Buck’s shoulder brushing against his as they face whatever challenge is before them.
“Eddie Diaz!”
He startles at the shout, then peeks around the truck and grins when he sees Oliver trotting toward him. He’d seen Oliver in passing at various scenes over the years since they graduated from the fire academy, and they kept up-to-date on each other’s lives via Instagram and the occasional text. Although Eddie was more than happy at the 118, Oliver going to a different house had been a bummer. But then there was Buck, and he was the beginning, and end, of everything.
“Hey, glad I found you!” Oliver calls, holding his hand out to shake while taking off his helmet and propping it on his hip. He’s covered in even more soot than Eddie; the 122 had been in the thick of the fire, while Eddie spent the past hour helping Hen, Chim, and the other paramedics triage and treat patients.
“Looking good, Jacobs,” Eddie says, smirking.
Oliver grins, running a hand through his hair. “Still better looking than you.”
Which is probably true, but Eddie still smacks his chest and grumbles, “Ass.” Oliver’s smile widens, his crooked teeth gleaming brightly in his dirty face. “Did you come over here just to insult me or?”
“Nah. That’s just a bonus. I wanted to invite you to my wedding, but I don’t have an address to send the invite and Claire said it was too informal to send it to the firehouse.” He rolls his eyes, but his smile is fond. It always was when he talked about Claire.
“Congrats, man! Long time coming, huh?”
He nods, smiling wryly. “You have no idea. But Claire graduated from law school and started at a firm, and we finally moved into a house, so we decided to stop letting shit get in the way.”
“That’s awesome. I’m happy for you.” He shakes Oliver’s hand, and Oliver beams at him. “Tell Claire congrats for me too. I’ll text you my address.”
“Great! And bring your husband. The more the merrier, Claire says.”
“Husband?”
“Partner? Boyfriend? Sorry, I didn’t mean to presume, but he’s all over your Instagram with your kid.”
“Buck. He’s—” A strange buzzing fills Eddie’s head, his vision going wobbly. “Christopher loves him,” he says absently.
“You guys look happy together. You’re a beautiful family.”
Family. With Buck.
The buzzing intensifies. Oliver says something else, but Eddie’s brain is stuck several steps back, on the thought of Buck being his husband. His heart kicks painfully against his chest.
“Jacobs! Stop gabbing and come help with the hoses!”
Eddie and Oliver turn to one of the other guys from the 122, standing to the side with his hands on his hips and staring at Oliver in annoyance.
“Okay, okay.” Oliver taps Eddie’s chest and jogs backward, waving. “Text me that address! I look forward to meeting your plus one!”
Seeing him getting farther away snaps Eddie out of his daze, and he calls, “Oh, he’s not—” But Oliver is already gone, lost in the chaos of multiple houses sorting their equipment and packing things away.
He’ll just have to explain things later.
***
“God, Eddie, did you see this view?”
Eddie abandons his suitcase and walks over to join Buck by the balcony doors. The view is spectacular. Sandy beaches with water a shade of blue he didn’t know existed in real life, surrounded by lush green foliage.
“It looks like a postcard,” Eddie says in wonder. His toes curl, wanting to dig into the warm sand.
He hadn’t known until he got the invitation that it was a destination wedding in Hawaii. It gave him pause at first, but Buck, after spotting the invite half-buried under a pile of mail on the coffee table, convinced him to RSVP and take advantage of a short vacation. He asked Buck to come along, because who else would he ask? And since he’s a coward, he put off telling Oliver—and Buck—the truth.
Buck closes his eyes and turns his face up to the sun. He looks peaceful already after only a few minutes at the resort. “What time is the welcome dinner thing?”
“Not until 7.”
“So we have time to go down to the beach?”
Eddie checks his watch. It’s almost 4, Hawaii time, which does his head in. They left LA early in the morning and were only in the air for a few hours.
“Yeah. We’ll just need to come back to the room in time to get ready.”
“Awesome.” Buck bumps their shoulders together and grins.
The brightness of it rivals the blazing sun in the perfect blue sky and hurts Eddie’s heart.
&
Buck in tight red swim trunks, all golden skin and muscles and mile-long legs, is cruel and unusual punishment for Eddie not telling Buck that Oliver thinks they’re married.
He tries not to stare, but it’s pretty much impossible. Buck draws the eye on a normal day. Slicked up with sunscreen, hair shining in the sun, powerful thighs on display? Eddie lays his head on his bent knees and whimpers.
“I’m going for a swim,” Buck says, shading his eyes with his hand while he stares out at the water. “You coming with?”
He kinda looks like a Greek god, and Eddie hates his life.
“Nah,” Eddie replies after a beat too long. “Think I’ll stay here and soak up some sun.”
He so rarely gets time alone, between Chris and work and helping Pepa with whatever she needs—because he’s the favorite nephew, even if she’ll never say it out loud. And Buck, of course. Nine times out of ten he’s choosing to spend time with Buck over doing anything alone, but every once in a while it’s good, especially now that he’s not afraid to poke at his thoughts or feel his feelings.
Buck snorts and turns back to grin at him. “Because you don’t get enough sun in LA?”
Shrugging one shoulder, he wrinkles his nose. “Feels different here. Cleaner or something.”
“Mm.” He tips his head back and closes his eyes, his smile going a bit goofy. “You might be right about that.”
“You go. Have fun. Don’t get eaten by a shark.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Eddie waves him off, then pushes his glasses back up his nose and lies down. Folding his hands over his stomach, he closes his eyes against the brightness of the sun. The sand is soft beneath him, and the noises around him—people talking, kids yelling and squealing, someone’s music from farther down the beach—relaxes him further.
He wakes up sometime later to Buck hovering over him. His wet hair is plastered to his head and dripping onto Eddie’s chin. All Eddie can see is Buck’s bare chest and the water drops sliding down his frankly ridiculous pecs. He wants to pull Buck down and lick him all over.
He blames the sun for addling his brain.
“Nice nap?” Buck smirks, shaking his head and spraying Eddie with water.
Eddie makes a noise of annoyance, but really the cool water feels good on his overheated skin. “Mm. How was the water?” he asks, propping himself on his elbows and watching Buck towel off. Somehow, his skin is even more golden after his dip in the ocean. He curls his fingers into the sand so he doesn’t reach out.
“It was amazing.” He plops next to Eddie. Their bare thighs press together, and Eddie shivers. “You might be right. It does feel different here. I don’t know if it’s because we’re on vacation and don’t have any responsibilities or what, but it’s pretty amazing.”
He looks content, arms loosely draped over his bent knees, expression easy and open. Vacation looks good on him.
He should tell Buck that Oliver thinks they’re married. Buck will figure it out anyway, but Eddie should tell him first.
Instead, he checks his phone and nudges Buck’s shoulder.
“We should head back to the room and get ready for dinner.”
Buck sighs and stretches. “I do need time to get pretty.”
“There’s not enough time in the world for that.”
Laughing, Buck shoves him, then pops to his feet. “Race you back!” he calls, his long legs carrying him strides ahead while Eddie scrambles up.
“Jerk!”
He chases Buck’s laughter across the beach.
***
Buck walks out of the bathroom looking gorgeous and like all Eddie’s secret dreams come true. He rolls up the sleeves of the royal blue shirt, saying something about being starving, but Eddie’s attention snags on the soft hair on his muscular forearms. It’s curly and blonder than you’d expect, and Eddie wants to run his fingers over it.
“Hey, you ready to go?” Buck asks, fiddling with his collar. He has the first three buttons of the shirt undone, revealing silky smooth skin and a hint of chest hair.
Swallowing, he turns away before he can do something he shouldn’t.
“Eddie?”
Eddie hums and checks his pockets for his wallet, phone, and key card.
“What’s Oliver like? You haven’t said much. Hell, I didn’t even know you had other friends in LA.”
“Ha ha.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Buck’s sly grin. “Oliver’s…a good guy. Dependable. Funny.” He’d made Eddie laugh on more than one occasion when he was tired or frustrated, and it was either laugh or cry. “Not sure I would’ve made it through training without him.”
Buck shakes his head, tugging on the front of Eddie’s shirt. “You would’ve done it on your own. You’re so much better than you give yourself credit for, Eddie,” he says seriously, palm splayed flat on Eddie’s stomach.
Eddie ducks his head, unable to maintain eye contact.
“We should head down,” he says, reflexively patting his pockets down again.
Buck opens his mouth, then nods, turning away from Eddie.
“Buck, wait.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “There’s—there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Okay,” he replies slowly, scrunching his eyebrows in a way that Eddie shouldn’t find adorable, especially in serious circumstances.
“I didn’t tell you the truth about why I invited you this weekend.”
“What?”
He sits on the end of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. “Oliver—and probably Claire—thinks we’re married.”
Buck’s mouth drops open, working silently in imitation of a fish. He recovers after a minute and asks in a voice slightly higher than normal, “Why does he think we’re married?”
“Something about you being all over my Instagram? I was so surprised that I didn’t correct him. We were still at a scene, and he got called away before I could say anything.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me before coming here?”
“No, I did, but—”
The crushed look on his face twists Eddie’s stomach. He left it too long and now he’s hurt Buck. He feels like an asshole.
“Did you even really want me here?”
“I always want you here.” He flushes and ignores Buck’s raised eyebrow. “Anyway. The longer it went on, the easier it was not to tell Oliver the truth. He’s excited to meet my husband.” He smiles wryly. “I guess I just didn’t want to be the sad lonely single guy at the wedding again.”
Sighing, Buck settles onto the bed next to him. Their shoulders brush, and it bolsters Eddie.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’ll tell Oliver the truth when we get downstairs.”
Buck is silent for a long time, fingers knotted in his lap. Eddie stares out the balcony doors to the sun just starting to set. It’s too pretty here for the ugly feelings making Eddie’s gut churn. He should’ve told Buck sooner.
“Maybe we don’t have to?” Buck says finally.
Eddie whips his head around to stare wide-eyed at Buck. “What?”
“Maybe we don’t have to tell Oliver the truth.”
“Buck.”
“It’s only for the weekend. It’s not a big deal.”
“You would do that? Pretend to be my husband?”
Buck shrugs casually, but the tip of his ear is bright red. “I kinda like the idea of being someone’s husband, even if it is only for a weekend.” He squeezes Eddie’s knee and grins. “Being your husband? Bonus.”
Shaking his head, Eddie bites back a smile and bumps his shoulder against Buck’s. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” He stands up and holds out his hand, then pulls Eddie up. “I’m gonna be the best fake husband ever.”
Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, but his heart is beating double-time.
This’ll be easy. They already know each other really well so they won’t have to lie or invent too much.
What harm could it do?
“All right,” Eddie says, and Buck grins so wide his eyes crinkle.
&&&
Eddie stops outside the hotel restaurant and smoothes down his shirt. He has his hands halfway up to fix his hair when Buck grabs his wrist and huffs at him.
“Stop. You look perfect. You’re definitely going to outshine the groom.”
He flushes at the compliment and clears his throat awkwardly. “You don’t even know what Oliver looks like.”
“I don’t need to have seen him to know you’re better looking.”
“Laying on the flattery a little thick, aren’t you, Buck?”
He just grins and tugs Eddie toward the door.
By unspoken agreement, they beeline toward the buffet table, laden with every appetizer ever. Buck whistles lowly as he grabs plates off the stack for them.
“What does Claire do, ‘cause I know Oliver didn’t pay for this elaborate wedding off a firefighter’s salary,” Buck asks, filling his plate with a bit of everything.
Eddie’s eyes go to Buck’s long, elegant fingers, and it takes him a moment too long before he answers. “Uh, she just finished law school and started at a big law firm.”
“Ah.” Buck grins, bumping their shoulders. “We went into the wrong profession if we wanted to make a lot of money, huh?”
Which is an understatement, of course, but Eddie knows that Buck never cared much about money and just wanted to do something that mattered, something to help people. He has the biggest heart of anyone Eddie’s ever known.
“Holy shit! Is that Eddie Diaz?”
Eddie quickly sets down his plate and spins to greet Craig with the traditional handshake and bro hug. When they separate, Craig grins and squeezes Eddie’s shoulder.
“Oliver told me you were coming, but I didn’t believe him. Glad I was wrong. It’s good to see you.”
“You too. But it’s not my fault you moved to San Diego.”
Craig laughs, holding his hands up. “Had to follow the fiancé. Speaking of which, you must be Eddie’s husband. I’m Craig, since he hasn’t bothered to introduce me.”
“That’s me,” Buck replies easily, putting his plate on the table and shaking Craig’s outstretched hand. “Buck.”
“Nice to meet you, Buck.”
“Were you at the academy with Eddie?”
“Yep. Unfortunately.”
Shaking his head, Eddie smiles, long used to Craig’s sense of humor.
Buck’s hand settles on the small of Eddie’s back, warm and large. Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t react. If Craig also thinks they’re married, he wonders how many people Oliver told. He represses a groan and leans back against Buck’s hand. Not pausing his conversation with Craig, Buck presses closer and rubs soothing circles on Eddie’s back.
“So, Craig, Eddie refuses to talk about his training at all. Please tell me it’s because he did something embarrassing.”
“Hey!” Eddie protests, elbowing Buck, who infuriatingly just beams at him, revealing his dimples.
“Sorry to disappoint you. He was a model student.”
“Thank you!” He wrinkles his nose at Buck, then startles when Buck kisses his forehead. It’s barely been ten minutes, and he’s already failing at this fake husbands thing, while Buck immediately fell into it without a hitch.
Fortunately, talk turns to Craig’s new firehouse in San Diego and the house he’s building with his fiancé. Craig and Buck get along like they’ve known each other for years, which is hardly surprising. Buck could charm a lamppost, and Craig had been everyone’s favorite in their academy class.
Before long, Craig wanders off to talk to someone else from his old house in LA. Buck takes the opportunity to stuff about five mini crab cakes into his mouth. Rolling his eyes, Eddie picks up his plate and eats some sort of mushroom cap thing.
When he swallows, Buck nudges him. “Tell me the truth. You were the teacher’s pet, weren’t you?”
“Hardly.”
“Right.” He draws the word out like he doesn’t believe him. “I bet you aced everything on the first try, though.”
Eddie shuffles and hides his face against Buck’s chest, mumbling a response. Buck hugs him, drawing him closer, and they slot together like they always do, Buck’s arms wrapped securely around him, his face tucked against Eddie’s shoulder.
“I didn’t ace everything,” Eddie replies after a couple minutes.
“Nonsense. Bobby already told us when you first started that you graduated top of your class, smartypants.”
“I’m not smart,” he protests, a reflex action borne of years of his dad only caring about his grades if it affected his eligibility to play a sport. Athletic prowess was more important than brain power.
“Yes, you are. And no arguing,” Buck adds, tightening his arms around Eddie’s waist.
Eddie huffs, conceding the point for now. Rubbing his face on Buck’s shoulder, he inhales subtly. Buck smells really damn good, and Buck’s hugs somehow always manage to leach the tension out of his body. He could stay like this forever.
“Ooh, they’re about to serve dinner,” Buck announces excitedly.
Eddie swallows a sigh and backs up but doesn’t get far, stopped by the cage of Buck’s arms. “You gonna let go of me so we can eat?”
Buck studies him for a long moment, then nods, his arms falling away. Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets so he won’t reach out for Buck again.
&
“There you are!” Oliver exclaims, grinning as Eddie and Buck approach him. “I feel like I keep getting glimpses of you all evening, but you run away before we can talk. You avoiding me, Diaz?”
Eddie smiles and leans in to hug Oliver and then Claire. “Not avoiding. This one’s too focused on food.” Hooking a thumb in Buck’s direction, he cuts a glance at Buck that he knows is too indulgent.
“Guilty as charged,” Buck says, shaking hands with Oliver and Claire. She’s staring up at him with wide eyes, her mouth parted slightly. Eddie understands. Buck can be overwhelming on his scruffiest days, and he looks gorgeous tonight.
“It’s good to meet you, Buck,” Oliver says and takes a sip of his drink. “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised Eddie ended up with someone like you.”
Eddie bristles, and Buck’s hand settles on his lower back again, in the spot that feels perfectly shaped for his palm.
“Oh?” Buck says carefully, puffing his chest out and standing straighter.
Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to roll his eyes or kiss him. Maybe both.
“You’re obviously too good for him,” Oliver says, smirking into his glass as his eyes cut over to Eddie.
“Nah. He’s the one that’s too good for me. I got lucky.” Buck’s smile softens as he looks over at Eddie, something private for him, as if they weren’t in a room full of people.
Eddie’s heart jumps and lodges in his throat and for one wild moment, he forgets that this is fake and Buck is simply a better actor than Eddie expected. Then the real world intrudes with Claire’s “aw!” and Eddie drops his gaze to the floor, to Buck’s shiny black shoe butted up against his own.
“Buck,” Claire says, setting down her mostly full beer and slipping her arm through Buck’s, “I need a refill. Come with me to the bar?”
As excuses go, it’s definitely flimsy, but Buck just grins and leads her away. Eddie watches them go and has the sudden, insane urge to chase after them and snatch Buck back.
“Well, this is new.”
“What?” Eddie turns back to Oliver, scrunching his nose.
“When I met you, you were miserable and overwhelmed and trying to take care of everything on your own. You seemed to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
He shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably, but he can’t deny it. He was miserable and drowning in his responsibilities. And then he joined the 118 and met Bobby, Chim, Hen, and Buck—god, especially Buck. He could breathe again, and Christopher had what he needed. Their lives haven’t been the same; they’ve only continued to get better.
“It’s good to see you happy,” Oliver says, squeezing Eddie’s arm. “And I’m glad you found someone that makes you smile like that.”
Guilt gnaws at him. He feels like an asshole for lying. Oliver is a good man, and Eddie should tell him the truth. It’s selfish not to, because he likes people thinking Buck’s his husband, even if it’s temporary.
He’s saved from having to reply by Buck and Claire coming back, Buck bent close to say something to Claire that has her giggling.
“I’m not sure we should’ve let them meet,” Oliver grouses, but his mouth curves up in a helpless smile. “They’re gonna be trouble.”
“Yeah.” He grins, because it’s impossible not to with Buck’s face full of joy, cheeks tinged pink with mirth and maybe embarrassment.
“Here, babe,” Buck says, passing Eddie a fresh beer and sliding an arm around his waist.
Raising an eyebrow, he takes the bottle, cold seeping into his hand. “Thanks, honey.”
Buck’s mouth twitches. Eddie’s fingers tighten on the bottle, stopping himself from grabbing Buck’s face and smashing their mouths together.
“Ollie, Eddie and Buck have a better meet-cute than we do.”
Eddie chokes on his beer, and Buck runs his hand up Eddie’s spine to rub between his shoulder blades. Eddie leans back against him and only startles a little when Buck brushes a kiss to his temple.
“He was a pissy jerk to me for the first day,” Eddie says. “That’s hardly a meet-cute.”
Buck blushes and mumbles, “I kinda skipped that part. I just told her about the grenade in the guy’s leg.”
“Mm-hm.” He smiles at Buck and takes a slow sip of his drink. “You hated me for the first couple days.”
“I never hated you. I could never hate you. I was just…jealous. And blinded by your abs.”
He scrunches his nose at Buck’s smirk, then startles when Claire lets out a little squeal. He’d forgotten Oliver and Claire were standing there.
“Still,” she says, waving her arms. “Grenade! Ambulance blowing up! We just met standing in line at Starbucks.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” Oliver replies dryly into his glass, and Claire grins at him, sunny and fond.
Eddie’s heart kicks against his chest, jealousy pooling in his stomach.
“I don’t know. I think it’s sweet.” Finishing his drink, Buck sets the empty bottle on a nearby table, then settles back against Eddie, closer now. “In all the Starbucks, hell, in all the coffeehouses in LA, and all the dozens of people you come across every day, you two met and fell in love. I think that’s pretty amazing.”
“I like you,” Claire says, sniffling and leaning into Buck for a side-hug. “The four of us will have to get lunch or something when we get back from our honeymoon.”
Buck cuts a look toward Eddie, his smile dimming, though Eddie doubts anyone but him notices. He swallows his guilt and lets Buck’s steady presence beside him soothe him.
“We’d like that,” Buck says, and Eddie marvels for a moment at how easily he answers for the two of them. As a unit, a couple.
They’ll have to get out of it somehow, because he refuses to keep this lie going after the weekend. His heart can’t take it.
He’s not sure how he’ll square it with Oliver, but he’ll figure it out somehow.
Buck asks about the honeymoon, and Oliver and Claire happily rhapsodize about the tour of Europe they have planned. The words wash over Eddie in a nebulous blur, too caught up in imagining a reality where he and Buck do couples hangouts and Buck comes home with him and never leaves.
He’s grateful for the interruption when Claire’s mother rushes up and pulls Oliver and Claire away to tackle some wedding-related catastrophe.
“Want another drink?” Buck asks, the last part lost in a wide, jaw-cracking yawn.
Seeing Buck yawn triggers his own. “No,” Eddie replies, setting down his half-full bottle. “I’m ready to head up to the room if you are.”
“Yep. I’m pretty exhausted.”
Eddie hums in agreement as they begin winding their way around tables toward the door. They join a small crowd queuing for the elevator.
“It’s been a long day,” Eddie says around another yawn.
“Yes, and some of us didn’t nap on the beach earlier.”
“You slept on the plane!” Eddie protests, crossing his arms.
“Not the same thing!” Buck grins and uncrosses Eddie’s arms, ignoring Eddie’s huff and tangling their fingers together. “Everyone knows plane sleep doesn’t count.”
“Uh-huh.”
Buck’s smile turns blinding, warming Eddie from the inside out.
***
A squeal from somewhere down the hall startles Eddie awake. It’s still somewhat dark outside, the sun just starting to filter into the cracks of the curtains they hadn’t closed properly last night. The sunrise over the water would be breathtaking, but Eddie’s too comfortable to get up and see for sure. His heart rate dropping back to normal after being woken abruptly, he rubs his forehead between Buck’s shoulder blades, then freezes, only just now taking in their positions. They’d gone to bed with Buck on his stomach and Eddie facing away on his side but shifted and gravitated toward each other during the night. They’re both on their sides now, Eddie the big spoon, and so tangled up that Eddie can’t move without waking Buck. He inhales and exhales slowly, trying not to notice how well they fit together, their bodies slotting together like they were made for each other.
“Stop wriggling,” Buck mumbles.
Eddie swears, biting back an embarrassing scream. “Sorry.”
“S’early. Go back to sleep.” He pats the arm Eddie has slung around his waist, then skims his palm down to entwine their fingers, thumb grazing the back of Eddie’s hand in a soothing arc.
Somewhere in the back of Eddie’s head, he’s freaking out. Having Buck this close feels too good, a tease of what he could have if things were different. But sleep pulls at him, making his thoughts sluggish. Buck is relaxed beneath him, his breathing already evening out again. Eddie closes his eyes and lets his head rest against Buck’s back, his t-shirt so soft under his cheek. Buck makes an indistinct noise and snuggles closer and between one breath and the next, sleep claims him.
When he wakes up sometime later, sunshine floods the room, Buck has Eddie’s arm pinned beneath him, and Eddie’s bladder is screaming at him. He hates to disturb Buck—he looks so sweet, all sleep-rumpled with his head half-buried under the pillow—but if he doesn’t get up soon, it’s going to be messy and embarrassing.
He rolls Buck enough to free his arm, then slides backwards off the bed. Buck snuffles and turns onto his stomach. His shirt rides up, revealing a few inches of bare golden skin and the appealing dip of his spine. Eddie stares, longing lodging in his chest, until his bladder makes itself known once more and he has to hurry to the bathroom.
He comes back to find Buck on his back, sprawled across the wide expanse of the bed and squinting at his phone. He tosses it onto the nightstand as Eddie approaches the bed and closes his eyes again. Standing by the bed, Eddie contemplates his options. He’s still not entirely awake. He could sit out on the balcony and let the warm sunshine rouse him, but that’s farther than he wants to walk right now, his limbs still heavy and stiff with sleep. Getting back into bed means touching Buck, though, and he’s unsure if he’s up for that, now that he’s mostly conscious and can overthink everything.
“Your brain is making too much noise,” Buck mumbles, doing a full-body stretch.
Eddie scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”
“Get down here.” He waves a hand, then pats the mattress. “More sleeping, less thinking.”
He huffs, then pokes Buck’s calf. “I would, except you’re taking up the whole bed with your stupidly long legs.”
Buck smiles, soft and sleepy, and cracks one eye open. The urge to kiss him, to reach out and feel the roughness of his unshaven cheek or trace the slope of his nose, steals over Eddie. He curls his hands into fists instead.
Buck shuffles over a few inches, which still leaves Eddie without a lot of room. He sighs and climbs into bed anyway. Buck immediately wraps an arm around him and snuggles in.
“We’ll have to get up eventually,” Eddie says, voice muffled in the fabric of Buck’s t-shirt.
“Mm. Later.” His fingers skim over Eddie’s back, tracing random patterns and soothing his racing thoughts.
He doesn’t fall fully asleep, but he dozes. Sleeping in, without a kid to worry about or a list of stuff to get done, is an indulgence he’s rarely gifted, even rarer to have a lie-in with someone else. He can’t remember the last time that happened. Probably with Shannon before Chris was born. That sends a dull pang of sadness? Regret? through him. Buck must sense his shift in mood because he sinks his fingers into Eddie’s hair and scratches his scalp. Eddie leans into it like a cat and only feels a little conflicted about it.
Eventually, they drag themselves out of bed. Well, they manage to at least sit up against the headboard and order room service. Eddie FaceTimes Chris and pretends it doesn’t make his heart clench when Chris is happier to see Buck than his own dad. He loves how much Chris and Buck love each other. Chris asks for a tour of their room and exclaims excitedly over the view, then rambles for fifteen minutes about his history project on Napoleon, Buck listening intently and no doubt mentally compiling a list of books to buy to help him.
When Chris finally winds down and they get off the phone, Buck says, “That’s the best kid in the world.”
Eddie smiles. “He’s amazing. I don’t know what I did to deserve a kid so great.”
“He’s amazing because you’re an amazing dad.”
Ducking his head, he mumbles a denial.
“Hey.” Buck squeezes his thigh, staring at him with a little frown creasing his forehead. “You are. You’re a great dad,” he insists.
“I don’t—”
Buck squeezes tighter. “That kid is amazing because of you and the amazing way you love him.”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie concedes, because if Buck believes that, it must be true.
&
They lounge around the room for the morning, then go down to the beach after ordering more room service for lunch. The wedding isn’t until late evening, so there’s no rush. He’s enjoying this day of doing nothing, simply lying around on the warm sand and soaking up the sun without having to jump up every ten minutes to check on laundry or figure out if he can afford all his bills this month.
It’s even nicer, spending this quiet time with Buck. They’re both more relaxed here, and it shows in the looseness of Buck’s shoulders and his quick smiles.
Buck goes for a swim and comes back dripping, his skin glistening. It’s an exercise in self-restraint, having Buck beside him on his towel, close enough that Eddie can feel the heat of his body, especially since his red swim trunks seem designed to specifically torture him, but it’s fine. Eddie is fine.
Until Craig and his fiancé Lee find them. Eddie suffers through Buck resting a hand on his thigh and casually calling him babe while they field questions about their wedding and how they navigate working together. Eddie lets Buck do most of the talking, silently marveling at how easily he comes up with details about a nonexistent wedding. His heart aches with how fiercely he wants it all to be true, with how much he wishes he could turn to Buck and kiss him and have Buck pull him closer. He’s full of want and sadness at a future that will never happen, a worm of guilt niggling in his chest for lying to people.
It’s a relief to escape to the hotel to get ready for the ceremony. But then Buck emerges from the bathroom in a burgundy suit that’s molded to his body, and Eddie nearly chokes on his own spit.
“You okay?” Buck asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking.
“Yeah.” Shaking his head, he bites his lip. “You, uh, you look really good.”
He beams, adjusting his tie, then gives Eddie a slow once-over that curls his toes. “So do you.”
Face on fire, he turns away from Buck to pick up his tie off the bed. “We may have a small problem, though.” He holds up the tie, a burgundy the exact shade of Buck’s suit. The salesperson had assured him it went perfectly with his charcoal suit and shirt, but now it seems like too much next to Buck. “We match.”
Buck scrunches his nose and rubs the silky tie between his fingers. “We’re supposed to be married. Couples do this kind of cheesy stuff all the time. We’ll fit right in.”
Somehow, that makes it worse.
He can’t force the issue without Buck asking questions Eddie has no intention of answering, so he slips the tie on and nudges Buck toward the door after checking his pockets for phone, wallet, and keycard.
Buck entwines their hands while they wait for the elevator and only lets go once they settle into their seats outside for the ceremony. Eddie misses the warmth immediately.
The ceremony is simple and beautiful. Oliver and Claire’s love and joy is obvious, shining brighter than the setting sun.
“Weddings always get to me,” Buck says, wiping at his eyes, then smiling in thanks as the woman next to him passes him a tissue.
Eddie hums, blinking away his own tears. When Buck wraps an arm around him and kisses his cheek, Eddie leans against him and pretends his heart isn’t breaking a little.
&
“All right, all you single people, meet Claire on the dance floor for the bouquet toss,” the DJ announces. “No exceptions! She wants all of you up there!”
“I thought no one did that anymore,” Eddie says, watching everyone file to the dance floor where Claire’s standing, swinging the bouquet in her hand.
“It’s a sweet tradition.” Buck taps his foot against Eddie’s, then leaves it there, probably scuffing up the shoe Eddie spent too long polishing.
“It’s antiquated and dumb.”
“It’s silly and harmless,” Buck counters, rolling his eyes. “At least Claire has all the single people up there and not just women.”
Eddie inclines his head to acknowledge Buck’s point.
The noise of the crowd swells and then there’s a thump as the bouquet lands on their table. Buck’s mouth drops open slightly, and Eddie feels a hysterical laugh bubbling up his throat.
They look at each other and then at the bouquet, lying innocently on the table between them, the flowers a little crushed but still vibrant and colorful. If he didn’t know any better, Eddie would think the universe was trying to tell them something.
But he doesn’t believe in that kind of stuff.
“Oops!” Claire says, hurrying over to their table with one side of her dress hiked up revealing fuzzy pink slippers. “Sorry! I have terrible aim.”
Everybody laughs as she scoops up the bouquet, but Eddie can tell Buck’s laughter is forced. It shouldn’t be a big deal—it’s a stupid, meaningless tradition anyway—but somehow it feels like it is. He exchanges a glance with Buck, but for once he can’t read his expression.
“Do over!” Claire calls, throwing her arms up and shaking the bouquet. She wades back to the front of the group of singles and throws the bouquet again. A bridesmaid catches it this time, and she blushes as everyone surrounds her with teasing shoulder pats and hugs.
“Do you want more cake?” Buck blurts, sitting up abruptly and banging his knee on the underside of the table. “I’m getting more cake.”
“Yeah,” Eddie replies slowly. “I’ll take a lemon piece this time.”
Buck nods, then leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t know when that started to feel natural to him, but he’s already mourning the loss when they get back to LA and their real lives.
“How long have you two been together?”
Eddie turns from watching Buck charm his way to the dessert table and glances at the older woman across the table from him.
“Uh, not long,” he says, adding “but we’ve been partners for a few years.”
“You’re very sweet together.. He clearly adores you.”
He flushes and fiddles with his glass, shaking it so the liquid spins inside. “Thank you.”
He’s spared from any more conversation by Buck plopping a plate with a giant piece of cake on it on the table in front of Eddie. He hadn’t wanted any cake, but it looks moist and fluffy and smells heavenly. His mouth waters.
Buck sets down his own plate, then slides into his seat, his knee brushing against Eddie’s. “I sweet-talked the server into cutting you a bigger piece.”
“Of course you did,” he replies, rolling his eyes. His heart stutters at the smile Buck gives him. He stuffs a bite of cake in his mouth to stop from reaching out for Buck, then makes an embarrassing noise as lemon explodes on his tongue. “Holy shit, this is incredible.”
“Better than the double chocolate?” Buck asks skeptically. He’d gone back for seconds of that one, instead of trying one of the half dozen other flavors.
Eddie thinks Oliver and Claire’s choice to go with several smaller cakes in different flavors rather than one big cake is the smartest thing either of them has ever done, except maybe choosing each other.
“I haven’t tried the double chocolate, but this definitely beats the vanilla with raspberry jam I had last time.”
“Nothing is better than chocolate, Eddie,” Buck says seriously, and Eddie rolls his eyes again. “Here, try it.”
Eddie startles as Buck thrusts his fork at him, but he opens his mouth automatically and takes the bite of cake. And, well, Buck might have a point.
“It’s delicious,” he says, hand in front of his mouth while he swallows. Buck nods, smiling smugly. “The lemon is still better, though.”
Buck looks affronted, like he was the one baking these cakes and Eddie just insulted his work. Eddie grins and sips some of his water. The chocolate is rich and creamy, sweet as it melts on his tongue. He kinda wants a piece to himself but won’t admit it to Buck. It’s more fun to wind him up.
“Here,” Eddie says, holding out his fork with a bite of lemon cake on it. “To compare.”
Buck eyes the fork for a long moment, then leans forward and slowly licks the cake off the fork. Eddie holds his breath, realizing his mistake too late. His lips wrap around the fork, his tongue peeking out as he swipes at a bit of frosting clinging to his top lip. Eddie swallows a whimper and drops his gaze to his plate.
“You are such a liar,” Buck says, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. He kicks Eddie’s foot and scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “The lemon is good, but there’s no way you think it’s better than chocolate.”
He shrugs. “All right, you got me.”
Buck taps his foot again, then leaves it there, pressing their calves together. Goose bumps pop up along Eddie’s arms, and he hears a fond chuckle from across the table. Ignoring the distracting feel of Buck’s body heat soaking into him, he dives back into his cake. It’s still good but somehow tastes less sweet after having the chocolate. He must make a face, because Buck rubs their shoulders together and a moment later, half of Buck’s cake appears on Eddie’s plate. Eddie bites back a smile but leans more against Buck, even though it slightly inhibits his ability to eat.
When he finishes, Buck kicks back in his chair, arm over the back of Eddie’s and angled toward the dance floor, where couples drift together, swaying to the slow melody of an Etta James song. Oliver and Claire waltz past, tripping over the steps and giggling against each other’s cheeks. Their joy is palpable and infectious, though it’s shot through with a pulse of jealousy that leaves him feeling guilty and sad.
“Hey,” Buck says, reaching across the table and crowding into Eddie’s space to steal what’s left of Eddie’s water. He grins at Eddie’s noise of protest and sets the empty glass down. “Come dance with me.”
Eddie’s stomach lurches. His first instinct is to say no. A few months ago, he would have, afraid of admitting what he wants and the implications of people seeing him dance with a man. But after months of therapy and learning not to deny himself things, has opened him to possibilities he never would’ve considered before.
Eddie nods, and Buck ducks his head, smiling shyly. He stands up and holds a hand out to Eddie. It should be a simple thing, putting his hand in Buck’s, but it feels bigger than the moment warrants. He ignores the implications and follows Buck to the dance floor just as Journey’s Open Arms starts playing.
Buck snakes his arm around Eddie’s waist, his hand settling in the small of his back, where it’s lived for most of this weekend, his other hand clasping Eddie’s.
“Who says you get to lead?” Eddie asks, sliding his palm up Buck’s bicep to his shoulder.
Buck just smiles and pulls him closer so their chests are flush and Eddie has to tilt his head back to look at him. Buck’s heat seeps into him, inexplicably causing him to shiver. He turns away, toward the center of the dance floor where Oliver and Claire sway together, whispering to each other with small, private smiles.
“What’s wrong?” Buck asks, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “You have a weird look on your face.”
Eddie cocks his head to the side and works his mouth. “Oh. I—This is my first time dancing with a man.”
“Oh.”
“I’m guessing it’s not for you.”
“No. My first was when I was six with my neighbor Scott Randall at his big sister’s wedding.”
“That’s adorable.” He can picture it, Buck in a suit that probably didn’t fit him well. Free even then in a way Eddie never will be. Dancing because he wants to.
“Not everyone there agreed, but we had fun.”
A comfortable silence settles over them. Eddie glances around at the complete non-reaction at him dancing with Buck and catches the eye of Craig, standing by the bar with Lee. Craig grins at him, and Eddie inclines his head, embarrassed. Buck shifts them away with a firm hand on his back to spin them around. They’re doing more swaying and shuffling than actual dance steps. It feels bigger than that, though, like more than a simple dance.
It’s a little overwhelming, being so thoroughly wrapped up in Buck’s warmth, feeling the puff of his breath over his temple and the play of muscles under his hands. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend this is real, that they’re here as partners and not because Eddie invited him under false pretenses. He wants to tuck his face in the hollow of Buck’s throat and breathe him in. He allows himself ten seconds to imagine it, then bites the inside of his cheek, letting the sting bring him back to reality.
“Thanks for coming with me this weekend,” he says, once the silence gets to be too much, the sounds of Garth Brooks singing To Make You Feel My Love causing an unbearable ache to settle in his chest.
“Of course,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “Who would turn down a trip to Hawaii? Or spending time with you?”
“Plenty of people, I’m sure.”
“Well, then they’re idiots.”
Eddie hums, tamping down on the burst of happiness that elicits. “You have to say that because you’re my best friend,” he replies, even though best friend is such a simple way to describe what they are to each other. It’s so much more than that.
He shakes his head. “Eddie, you gotta know you’re my favorite person.”
“Thought that was Chris?” His voice comes out rough, and he swallows.
Buck grins and scrunches his face. “Fair point. You’re a very close second, though.”
“Thanks,” he replies. It’s softer than he meant, and his pulse kicks up at Buck’s even softer expression. “I feel the same way. About you, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“I know.”
His mouth curls into a pretty smile Eddie’s never seen before, something warm and private, and Eddie can’t stop staring at it. The hand on his back flexes. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been dancing—three, four songs?—but he’s not ready to let go of Buck yet.
He’s not sure when he fell in love with Buck. It seems to have been a series of small steps, right from the beginning, and it was an even slower realization. Sitting in Buck’s Jeep, watching him sing along to some Top 40 pop song, the wind blowing his curls over his forehead, Buck turned to Eddie and grinned, and Eddie’s heart said Oh. It’s him. That’s the one. He resigned himself to never having Buck, because Buck’s his best friend. And because of Taylor and then his breakdown and the months of piecing himself back together. He loves Buck. He’ll never have Buck, and that’s okay. But now…
The way Buck’s looking at him now, tender and maybe a bit hopeful, eyes flicking to Eddie’s mouth and back up.
A kaleidoscope of moments from the weekend—and so many more from their lives over the years—comes into sharp relief. Hope blossoms, and Eddie decides that, for once in his life, he’s going to be brave and go for what he wants.
“Buck.” He stops and swallows. “Can I—”
“Yes,” Buck interrupts firmly.
“You don’t even know what I was gonna ask.”
“Doesn’t matter. With you, the answer is always yes.”
“Buck,” he murmurs, his heart thumping so hard Buck must be able to feel it with how close they’re standing.
Time slows, molasses thick and sticky.
Buck’s gaze focuses on his mouth again, and then Eddie jumps as a hand lands on his shoulder.
Eddie bites back a scream as Oliver and Claire materialize beside them. Buck recovers quicker, managing a genuine smile and letting go of Eddie so he can lean down to hug Claire.
“You look beautiful!” Buck exclaims while Eddie swallows his frustration and shakes Oliver’s hand. “Both of you!”
Oliver laughs, and Claire beams. They look like nothing could wipe the joy off their faces. Eddie feels petty for being mad at them for breaking his moment with Buck and tells them sincerely, “It was a beautiful wedding. Everything’s been wonderful.”
“Thank you!” Claire says, super bubbly, and falls into Eddie for a hug.
She may be a tiny bit tipsy.
Oliver extracts her with an indulgent smile, and she cuddles up to him instead.
Buck talks to Oliver and Claire, but Eddie doesn’t hear a word they say, too caught up in the weight of Buck’s hand on his back and the expectant glances Buck keeps sneaking toward him.
The air between them feels charged, weighted. He can’t stop thinking about what was maybe about to happen.
“Excuse us,” he blurts, interrupting Oliver mid-word but not giving a damn about his rudeness.
He grabs Buck’s wrist and drags him through the reception hall and out onto the balcony, Buck silently following behind him. He guides him toward a shadowy corner, then crowds him back against the rough brick wall.
Fingers digging into Buck’s arms just above his elbows, he leans close and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Buck breathes, palm in the small of Eddie’s back to draw him in.
“You’re sure?”
He cuts off Buck’s exasperated “Eddie” by finally, finally pressing their mouths together. It’s tentative at first, close-mouthed and a little off-center, but then Buck cradles his jaw and moves them into a better angle, and everything slots into place. He tastes sweet like chocolate with hints of sharpness from the lemon. Eddie licks at his lip until Buck opens his mouth with a muffled gasp that Eddie eagerly swallows. Buck’s hands slide into his hair, tugging at the strands but somehow still holding him gently. Eddie’s head spins at the juxtaposition and the possibilities it conjures. Slipping a thigh between Buck’s, he presses closer. He could never be close enough. He wants to fit himself into all Buck’s hollows and empty spaces and never leave.
He’s never been so thoroughly kissed in his life.
“Wait.” Buck wrenches his mouth away from Eddie’s and pants against his cheek. “Eddie. God. Wait, wait, wait.”
“What?” It’s difficult to concentrate on Buck’s words when his mouth is red and shiny, kiss-swollen and so, so gorgeous.
“This—” He waves a hand between them, then presses a thumb against Eddie’s bottom lip. “It’s not a one-time thing for me. I just—I need you to know that before anything else happens.”
“I know.” Smiling, he caresses Buck’s side and kisses him lightly. “Me too.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Upstairs?” he asks, and Buck pushes away from the wall before Eddie can blink. He laughs, feeling drunk even though he’s only had one beer, then leans in to kiss the pretty pink staining Buck’s cheek. “Come on.”
Stopping briefly in the reception hall to grab their discarded jackets, they hurry through the hotel lobby to the bank of elevators. Eddie’s stomach rolls in a heady mix of nerves and anticipation. Buck feels the same, if the jiggling of his foot while they wait for an elevator is any indication.
“What?” Buck asks, tilting his head.
“Nothing,” Eddie replies and tucks away his smile, curling a palm around Buck’s jaw to guide him into a kiss. Because he can.
The elevator dings, but they don’t move for a moment, until Buck smiles into their kiss and murmurs, “Eddie,” sounding amused and fond. There’s always been a sweetness to the way Buck says his name, a cadence unlike anybody else. He’s tried hard not to read into it but maybe…
Eddie stumbles onto the elevator with Buck pressed into his side, mouth attached to Eddie’s throat, sucking a mark there that Eddie will have no hope of hiding. He jams his finger at the button for their floor and sends up a silent thanks that no one follows them onto the elevator.
He yanks Buck’s head up and kisses him, biting at his lip. Buck grinds against him and growls, and it’s about the hottest thing Eddie’s ever heard. Buck’s hand slides down Eddie's stomach to his belt buckle and tugs. Eddie scrapes together his last coherent thought and stops him.
“Not in public,” he pants, and Buck pouts, but the elevator jolts then as it reaches their floor.
The doors ding open, and they spill into the hallway, tripping around the corner to their room, unwilling to separate or stop kissing for even a moment.
His hands shake as he uses the keycard to unlock the door. He barely shuts it behind them before Buck presses him back against it and captures his mouth in a filthy kiss. Eddie moans. Buck's fingers feel like brands on his hips.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt about doing this,” Buck says, mouth brushing Eddie’s jaw and causing him to shiver.
“Yeah? Me too.” He skims his hands up Buck’s muscular arms and wraps a fist around his tie, tugging him into a kiss that goes on and on.
“I want you to fuck me,” Buck gasps, biting at that spot on Eddie’s neck again. He’ll definitely have a mark there tomorrow.
Eddie shudders, lightheaded with the desperation in Buck’s voice, and uses the tie to pull Buck away from the wall and toward the bed. Buck grins and guides Eddie backward with hands on his hips until they spill onto the bed, Buck sprawled half on top of him. Buck laughs, face tucked into the curve of Eddie’s neck.
Threading his fingers into Buck’s soft curls, he lifts his head and brushes a soft kiss to Buck’s mouth. Buck hums and presses closer, rucking up Eddie’s shirt and splaying a large palm over his stomach. The kiss quickly changes from sweet and tame to hungry, their tongues tangling.
“God, Buck, I need—” He cuts off with a moan, arching into the nail Buck scrapes over his nipple. “Need you naked,” he says roughly, tugging at the button on Buck’s pants.
Buck swears and then they’re tearing at each other’s clothes, hampered by the fact they can’t stop kissing. One shirt sleeve gets stuck on Eddie’s wrist. He yanks at it but quickly gives up, cupping Buck’s face with the shirt dangling from his wrist, and sucks on Buck’s plump bottom lip before licking into his mouth. Their harsh breathing is loud in the quiet room, and it only turns him on more.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Buck says roughly, eyes raking over him as he slides his hands down Eddie’s chest and traces the bumps of his ribs to rest at his belt buckle. “Look at you. So beautiful.”
“Me?” He shivers, goose bumps popping up in the wake of Buck’s touch. “You’re perfect.”
He’s seen Buck in various states of undress over the years, of course, but seeing him now, lips spit-shiny from Eddie’s kisses, chest heaving and flushed a faint red, hard-on barely contained by his thin suit pants—Jesus. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been more stunning.
Buck crashes their mouths together again, and it’s several more minutes before they manage to remove the rest of their clothes. They grind against each other, Buck sucking kisses into Eddie’s throat.
“Fuck, Eddie. I need you inside me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, fuck, okay.” It’s hard to think with Buck’s mouth attached to his throat. He wrenches Buck’s head up and sucks in air. “We need lube.”
It takes a second for his words to register, Buck too intent on curling a fist around Eddie’s dick, but then his eyes clear and he sits up.
“Hang on.” He smacks a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and hops up, disappearing into the bathroom.
Eddie swallows, ogling the perfect curve of his ass.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and Eddie can’t wait to get his hands—and mouth—on every inch of his beautiful golden body.
“Like what you see?” Buck asks, standing beside the bed and smirking.
“You have no idea. Get down here.”
Grinning, Buck drops a bottle of lube and a box of condoms next to Eddie, then climbs back onto the bed, cradling Eddie’s face and drawing him in for a long kiss.
When Buck lets him go, Eddie picks up the condoms and raises an eyebrow. “Were you planning on using an entire box of 20 condoms this weekend?”
Buck flushes and ducks his head. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared. There are many applications for lube and condoms, Eddie!”
He bursts out laughing, dislodging Buck from his lap. Buck pouts at him, which only makes him laugh harder. “You’re an idiot,” he says and wonders if Buck can hear the unabashed fondness in his voice.
“Shut up,” he grumps and crosses his arms, causing his biceps to bulge.
Licking his lips, he skims his hands up Buck’s back and into his hair and pulls him close again. He peppers kisses to the red splash of Buck’s birthmark and chin and the tip of his nose until Buck huffs, his smile digging into Eddie’s cheek.
“I’m glad you’re prepared for any lube-related emergencies,” he murmurs, “otherwise I wouldn’t be able to fuck you.”
“Planning on doing that anytime soon?”
Buck’s eyes sparkle, then widen in surprise as Eddie sits up and flips Buck onto his back. He reaches for the lube and pops the top, watching Buck’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“Fuck. I forget how strong you are sometimes,” Buck says, a bit breathlessly.
Eddie smirks and nudges Buck’s hip. “On your stomach.”
He rolls immediately, spreading his legs, one knee bent. Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he stares for a long moment. He never expected this, had spent so long pushing down all his wants and dreams, ignoring the pull toward Buck and how his heart beats erratically every time Buck smiles at him. This is like all the fantasies he refused to indulge in, except he never pictured the fruity smell of the lube or the distant sounds of waves crashing on the beach or the way Buck lifts his head to look at him over his shoulder, gaze impatient and so, so soft.
This is real and so much better than his limited imagination.
Pouring lube onto his fingers, he tosses the closed bottle to the side, then smoothes a palm up the back of Buck’s thigh to cup his muscular ass, thumb dipping into the crease. Buck makes a choked-off noise and buries his head in the pillow.
Eddie teases him at first, rubbing over the rim, but his eagerness soon has him slipping one finger in, just to the knuckle. He works him open like that for a long time, occasionally brushing his prostate and loving the way Buck gasps and shudders every time.
He adds more lube, then slips two fingers back in, scissoring them and spreading Buck wide. He presses featherlight kisses to Buck’s spine and the back of his thighs, wherever he can reach.
Buck swears, hands clenching in the sheets. “How are you so good at this?”
“I haven’t been a monk since I came out. You know that.” Sloughing off a lifetime of repression and allowing himself to admit he found men attractive had opened up his world in many ways. He hasn’t dated, exactly, but there have been hookups. Not Buck 1.0 levels, but he had a period where he slept with a bunch of men, having fun and learning what he did and didn’t like. “I’ve learned a few tips and tricks.”
“And I am very grateful for—fuck—whoever taught you that.”
Eddie smirks and crooks his fingers, eliciting a low moan from Buck. He’s so expressive, tiny twitches and soft gasps, hands moving restlessly across the cool sheets. Eddie drinks it all in and commits it to memory so he knows what to do next time to have Buck begging.
“Are you ready?” he asks, voice tight.
“Yeah.” He moans, clenching around Eddie’s fingers. “Yes. God, Eddie, please.”
Removing his fingers, he wipes them on the sheet, then hurriedly tears open the condom and puts it on.
Sinking into Buck for the first time is…well, incredible and magical come to mind, but they don’t begin to describe how overwhelming and right it feels. He closes his eyes, gripping Buck’s hips, and prays he can make this last. That he can make this good for Buck.
“Holy shit,” Buck gasps, dipping his chin toward his chest. His muscles are rigid under Eddie’s hands, and Eddie stills, barely an inch past Buck’s rim.
“You okay?” He strokes Buck’s flank and lets out a relieved breath when Buck nods.
“Yeah. You’re just really thick, and it’s been awhile.”
“Do you want me to—”
“No!” His hand shoots back and pinches Eddie’s wrist. “Don’t you dare pull out. Just go slow.”
“All right.”
Buck’s hand falls away, back to clutching the pillow beneath him, and Eddie starts moving, inch by careful inch, giving Buck time to adjust. When Buck’s breathing eases and his muscles are no longer taut with tension, Eddie thrusts with intent, shallow at first but deeper as Buck’s breath hitches.
It feels so unbelievably good, Buck’s smooth golden skin beneath his hands, his powerful thighs shaking with each deep thrust.
But a thought creeps in. It’s almost impersonal this way. Buck could be any number of faceless hookups. It feels wrong, because Buck is so much more than a hookup. He’s everything.
Eddie slips out, and Buck whines, ass clenching around nothing.
“Can you roll over?” Eddie asks, stroking his thumb over Buck’s hip. “I want to see you. I wanna be able to kiss you.”
“Oh.” He gives Eddie a soft look over his shoulder, then flips over onto his back.
“That’s better,” he says, sliding back in as Buck wraps his legs around his waist. It’s easier this time, since Buck’s used to his thickness now, and he’s buried deep on one long stroke. Caressing Buck’s face, he kisses him. Buck opens to him so beautifully, fingers sinking into Eddie’s hair.
He starts moving, short, shallow thrusts that Buck easily matches. He could stay like this forever, Buck’s powerful body beneath and surrounding him, Buck gasping into his mouth.
“More,” Buck demands in a wrecked voice, heels digging into Eddie’s hips. “More. Eddie, please.”
“I wanna take my time with you.” He’s dreamt of this for so long; he doesn’t want to rush through it.
“We can go slow next time. Right now I need you to fuck me.”
And, well, he’s never been able to tell Buck no.
He pulls out and thrusts back in, building a rhythm, slamming into Buck so hard that the headboard bangs against the wall. His face heats at what their neighbors must be hearing, but Buck laughs delightedly, which turns into a moan as Eddie hits his prostate. Clutching Eddie’s shoulders, he throws his head back, exposing the long line of his throat, and Eddie bends close to nip at the thin skin over his pulse point. He lays a line of kisses up to his jaw, his chin, then takes Buck’s mouth in a deep kiss.
“Fuck,” he growls against Buck’s cheek. “You feel so good, baby.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, rolling his hips in time with every one of Eddie’s hard thrusts. He rakes his hands into Eddie’s hair and guides him back into a kiss, sucking on his bottom lip before releasing him. “I need you to touch me.”
He gets a hand between them and wraps it around Buck’s dick, thumb skimming over the tip, smearing the precome gathered there. Buck gasps into his mouth and arches against him. Eddie doesn’t want this to end, but he can feel his orgasm rising and Buck’s breath growing heavier, their kisses sloppier, just panting into each other’s mouths rather than anything coordinated.
“Eddie, god. I need—please,” he babbles and lasts through a few more strokes of Eddie’s hand before coming with a low moan, fingers digging into Eddie’s scalp and ass clamping around him.
The waves of Buck’s aftershocks have Eddie losing his rhythm, and he can’t hold back anymore. Buck smiles at him, blissed-out and soft, and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, and Eddie’s orgasm floods through him.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans, then collapses on top of Buck.
Buck lets out a breath at the sudden weight but wraps his arms around Eddie, kissing his temple. Closing his eyes, he rests his head on Buck’s chest, listening to the rapid thump of his heart. Part of Eddie braces for the aftermath, the awkwardness or regret or the one-night stand brushoff, but this is Buck. His best friend and partner, an extension of himself in many ways. He doesn’t need to worry about Buck. He’s safe with Buck, always has been.
He gazes down at Buck, and the tender look in his bright blue eyes sends a shiver down his spine.
“Hi,” Buck says, cupping Eddie’s cheek and brushing his thumb in an arc under his eye.
“Hi.” The smile he’s fighting breaks through, and he presses it to Buck’s mouth, reveling in the feel of Buck’s answering smile against his.
&
After a few minutes, Eddie drags himself out of bed and to the bathroom, tossing the condom and grabbing a washcloth to clean them up. Buck smiles dreamily at him when he climbs back into bed. His hair is a mess, curls equally matted and sticking up, mouth kiss-bitten and red. There are scratches along his ribs that Eddie doesn’t remember leaving, three long red lines crossing over his tattoo. It makes something hot and possessive flash through him. Buck looks debauched, well-fucked, and Eddie can’t believe he gets to have this.
“Come here,” Buck tells him, tugging on his wrist until Eddie complies, flopping beside him. Buck wriggles around and arranges them with Eddie sprawled over his chest, one hand combing through Eddie’s sweaty hair and the other resting low on his back, just above the swell of his ass. “That’s better.”
Eddie snorts and presses a kiss to Buck’s pec. They lapse into silence, which is peaceful at first, until Eddie’s brain, sluggish after such an amazing orgasm, starts firing again. Words gather in his throat, but he bites his lip to keep them in.
“What’s this for?” Buck asks, rubbing his thumb over the wrinkle between Eddie’s brows.
“I’m trying not to be a cliché right now.” He tucks his face into Buck’s shoulder and for a moment, gets lost in the smell of his smooth skin—sweat and coconut leftover from all the sunscreen he’s worn this weekend and something citrusy that always makes him think of Buck.
“Why? Clichés can be good.”
Eddie huffs, and Buck tightens his arms, lightly scratching at Eddie’s back.
“Hey,” Buck says, flipping them over and pressing Eddie into the mattress. “No more secrets, okay?”
Nodding, he lifts his head for a kiss that Buck eagerly gives him. “Okay. No more secrets.”
“Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Eddie traces his fingers over Buck’s birthmark and down the curve of his jaw. “I love you,” he says, and the steady way Buck gazes down at him melts all his fear away at finally admitting it aloud. “I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t know when it started.”
Buck smiles softly and kisses him. “I love you too. You and Christopher are the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He gets lost in Buck’s kiss for a long time, until the need for air breaks them apart.
“These past two days, pretending to be your husband?” He pauses, blowing out a breath. Buck kisses his palm. He combs his hand through Buck’s hair, wrapping the soft curls around his fingers. “They’ve been amazing but also awful, because it was all fake and I wanted it to be real. I liked the thought of being your husband, of having a future with you.”
Propping his chin on Eddie’s chest, Buck grins. “Is that a proposal?”
Eddie’s stomach swoops. “We should probably date for a bit first.”
“So a couple days? A week?”
Eddie laughs and guides Buck up for a kiss that he means to be short, but Buck hums and licks Eddie’s bottom lip. They’re both breathing hard when Buck pulls away, pressing his mouth to the underside of Eddie’s jaw.
“You know I’d go to the courthouse and marry you tomorrow, right?” Buck says, gazing up at Eddie with the softest look in his beautiful blue eyes.
“I know.” He traces a thumb over Buck’s eyebrow and along his birthmark. “Let’s at least wait until we get back to LA. Chris would never forgive us if we got married without him.”
Buck snorts, then nuzzles his neck, nipping at his pulse point and working his way farther down, leaving a blazing trail wherever he licks or bites. “Does this mean I can call you my fiancé?” Buck asks, swirling his tongue around Eddie’s nipple. The look he gives Eddie, heavy-lidded, through his eyelashes, jolts Eddie’s pulse.
Fisting the sheets, Eddie gasps. “You can call me whatever you want, just keep doing that.”
Buck smirks at him, then presses kisses between his ribs, mapping his way down Eddie’s body.
***
Buck falls asleep before takeoff, head on Eddie’s shoulder and curled toward him as much as the cramped plane seat will allow. Eddie brushes the hair off Buck’s forehead and smiles. His cheeks hurt from doing that so much in the last 12 hours. Buck’s hand rests on Eddie’s thigh. Eddie wraps his hand around Buck’s and closes his eyes. Eddie can’t usually sleep on planes, but he drifts off once they’re at cruising altitude. They didn’t get much sleep last night, spending the times before rounds two and three talking and kissing lazily. They’d only managed an hour nap before Buck’s phone alarm got them out of bed in time to head to the airport.
A flight attendant shakes them awake in time to disembark. Buck sits up and blinks owlishly at him. He has red creases on his face, and one side of his hair is flat and also sticking up. He looks so adorable and sweet. Eddie bites his lip to keep from cooing at him like an idiot. He runs his fingers through Buck’s soft curls, mostly just because he can now, and presses a kiss to his cheek. Behind him, the flight attendant pointedly clears his throat. They sheepishly gather their stuff and leave.
“Can we swing by Abuela’s and pick up Chris instead of waiting for her to drop him off?” Buck asks as they walk through the airport toward baggage claim.
“Sure,” Eddie says lightly, trying not to let it show how much that pleases him, that Buck loves Christopher too. “Let me just text her to let her know we’re on the way.
“Yeah, I should tell Maddie we made it home safely.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket and stops abruptly. Eddie barely misses running into him. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” But then he understands Buck’s reaction. His phone—and he assumes Buck’s as well—has blown up with notifications. So, so many notifications.
Sophia: CALL ME! WTF EDMUNDO!!!!!!!
Chim: I KNEW you were lying!!! You guys SUCK!
Chim: Congrats though 🥳
Bobby: Please come in early on Monday so you can sign HR paperwork and discuss what happens on shift now. Happy for you two.
Adriana: Eddie!!!! ANSWER YOUR GODDAMNED PHONE!!!!!!! 🔪🔪🔪❤️🔪
Ravi: 💍 🥳 🍆 😉 💩 🍆 👍
Those are the first he reads, but there are dozens of others, some from people he hasn’t heard from in years, plus nearly a hundred missed calls and a bunch of voicemails that he already plans to delete without listening to. He can’t process anything he read. Nothing makes any sense.
“Oh, my god,” Buck mutters, scrolling through his phone with a growing expression of horror. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. We would’ve heard if something happened in LA, right?”
The texts aren’t precisely alarmed or worried, but he can’t imagine what else caused everyone to message-blast their phones.
He swipes out of his message app and pulls up the news, but there’s nothing about an earthquake or anything particularly newsworthy in all of California. Frowning, he goes back to his texts just as Buck lets out a horrified “oh, no.”
“What?”
“Instagram,” Buck says and brings the phone closer to his face, squinting.
Eddie uses Instagram sparingly, randomly posting batches of pictures of Christopher or Christopher and Buck. Instagram is what got him into the mess with Oliver and faking being married to Buck. It makes sense that’s what’s blowing up his life again.
There are dozens of notifications on Instagram too. Eddie groans but doesn’t open the app, moving Buck’s phone closer to him with a hand under Buck’s elbow instead. Buck scrolls through pics from the wedding reception, Buck and Eddie tagged in each one. He hadn’t even noticed the photographer lurking nearby, and it’s obvious why in all the pics; he’s too focused on Buck to see anyone else in the room. They’re all innocent, mostly. They stand close together in a few. Buck’s hand rests low on his back in others. The most damning one is on the dance floor, their bodies pressed flush together, a starry-eyed look on Eddie’s face, Buck's gaze soft and hungry at the same time and zeroed in on Eddie’s mouth.
It’s hash-tagged #husbands and #true love and #get a room, boys! with half a dozen fire emojis and even more hearts.
“Well,” Eddie starts, but he has nothing to follow it up with and closes his mouth with a noisy exhale.
“I didn’t know you looked at me like that,” Buck murmurs, thumb hovering over the screen.
“Neither did I.” Buck looks back at him, and Eddie brushes a kiss to his cheek. “That picture would definitely let the cat out of the bag if we hadn’t figured things out already.”
Buck huffs, but the smile he gives Eddie is so soft and full of love that Eddie’s knees go a little weak.
“What do you want to do?” Buck asks. “Should we tell everybody the truth?”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t true at the time the pictures were taken, but they are together now, though they’re not quite married yet. “Do you want to tell people what happened?”
“It’s up to you,” Buck says.
“Maybe an abridged version of the truth?” Eddie says. The whole thing is embarrassing and kinda dumb, and Eddie doesn’t relish telling people how lame he is.
“Hmm. Just maybe leave out the mind blowing sex part.”
He snorts. “We’ve gotta tell them something. They’re all waiting for an explanation.”
“Yeah.” Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he squeezes Eddie’s hand. “Whatever you want to say. I’ll follow your lead.”
Eddie flushes. “Okay,” he says, biting his lip in thought.
After a minute, he leans in to kiss Buck, keeping it light and chaste since they’re still standing in the middle of baggage claim, then unlocks his phone and scrolls to the latest text, one from Hen full of caps lock and exclamation points. He types out a reply with Buck hovering at his shoulder, his breath fanning over Eddie’s neck, the warmth and feel of his big body against Eddie’s side familiar already. He sends the text, then slips his hand into Buck’s. It’ll only fan the flames, and they’ll have to explain everything soon enough, but he can’t resist, Buck’s beautiful dimpled grin egging him on.
Eddie: So, funny story…
He attaches a picture of him smiling at the camera, Buck crowded close and kissing his cheek. He turns his phone off before waiting for a reply, then nudges Buck.
“Come on. Let’s go pick up Christopher and go home.”
Buck nods happily, slipping his hand into Eddie’s, and leans close for a quick kiss. “Sounds perfect.”